#based off the dream I had where I somehow hit Peter in the head with a rock and he was just stunned like 'girl wtf???'

[homicidal-slvt]

Kurt: So... You're really fast.

Peter, holding an ice pack to his face: Yep.

Kurt: And yet... Somehow Y/N managed to hit you- in the face- with a rock.

Peter: ....

Peter: Their just so hot.

Kurt: What-???

[moonbaby26]

Title: Escape

Pairing: Peter Maximoff x Reader

Notes: Actual pairing interaction starts in the second section after the Reader character gets out of the elevator, feel free to skip down to that if you like. Reader thinks about Peter in the first section, but it is more setting up how they got so separated from the others, plus a Wolvie cameo. I wanted Peter x Reader to be able to have more interaction away from the group.

Summary: Continuation of previous chapter. Set during X-Men: Age of Apocalypse. You and the others have been taken to Stryker’s base and must survive to find your way out together.

Warnings: Wolverine cameo advisory with a 100% chance of stabby stab. Mild language.

Chapters: Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Taglist: @drikawinchester , @n0obmaster69 , @alexloveskili , @what-a-silver-lining , @bluesprings18 , @weakmoony-stuff , @slytherinsi-mp

Peter Maximoff x Reader Masterlist

——————————

“The day of reckoning is here.”

Your eyes opened at once, that unmistakeable voice now reverberating through your mind as fluorescent lights passed one after another above you.

“Professor?” You breathed aloud, immediately trying to sit up on the moving gurney.

But the restraints were drawn too tightly as your head only rebounded backward just as quickly when your torso didn’t rise in tandem.

“Shit!” the guard to your left cursed, his hand drawing back from the gurney rail at your sudden movement.

You turned your head towards him, confused, even as the professor’s words continued in your mind.

Yet Xavier’s voice sounded strange, forced. And you didn’t understand the context. Was it a warning? A threat to someone?

It didn’t really seem to fit the current circumstances to say it was directed at you or your captors. But he only kept speaking.

“The dawn of a new era will emerge. For there is nothing you can do...to stop what is coming.”

The two guards were looking around too then, reacting in sync with the telepathic message leaving you no doubt that they could hear it as well.

But why would Xavier be in their heads too? Did he already know where you were?

One guard chided the other, as if the two of them didn’t both have the same frightened expression. “Damn stun pulse is wearing off it is all, just hurry up and finish this transport. Colonel Stryker wants it taken to the lower testing bay,”

“Don’t tell me you aren’t hearing that voice?” The other guard retorted, “What the hell is that?”

Did they just call you an ‘it’? What was this place? Not a hospital surely. But you could barely dwell on the implications of the guard’s words ‘lower testing bay’, and the impending threat that represented as your last memories finally began to bubble up.

The X-Mansion in rubble, the helicopters swooping in over the trees, the students and staff unconscious in the grass, that soldier cracking your ribs, and-

Peter.

He was a stranger to you still, but he’d been right there against you. Surely you had drawn more attention to him just because your powers had let you resist a few moments longer than the others. Because you’d been so stubborn, not going down until you’d been forced to.

If these men had hurt any of your friends, you would be furious. But if Peter, who had also saved so many of your friends was now in more severe danger because of your actions, you wouldn’t forgive yourself.

“Where did you take the others!?” You arched against the restraints abruptly, your palms opening to face upward, trying to summon any bit of your energy at all. A wisp, an orb, anything that could have helped you right now. You had to find your friends.

But nothing came. Not even a glow or flicker of what you truly were as you now had both guards’ full attention.

“Freak! Just shut up!” One of them shoved the gurney in retaliation to your outburst, the caster wheels rattling across the concrete floor before the bed rail hit against one of the walls, jarring you painfully.

“Those with the greatest power. Protect those without. That's my message to the world.”

Xavier concluded his words then. And somehow, that sounded more like himself than any of the rest of it. The real meaning still eluded you, but hearing him in that tone at least meant he was okay. He was somewhere urging the rest of you on. At least this part you knew was true as you took a calming breath, realizing panic and anger would serve you nothing right now.

Something was blocking your powers. That much was obvious. It would be unrealistic to think that the effects of any stun weapon would be this long lasting though.

On the other hand, you knew chemicals existed that could also temporarily block mutations. Hank used one almost medicinally whenever he didn’t wish to be in his true “Beast” form. But it had to be injected direct into the veins to have any real effect.

You could feel that they hadn’t removed any of your clothing, nor had they rolled up the long sleeves you were wearing. You doubted they would risk a chemical like that wearing off at an inopportune time and likely would have started an IV if they possessed anything of that nature.

There were no tubes or lines attached to you that you could tell, only the restraints now holding you to this bed. Leather straps across your body, metal cuffs on your ankles and wrists-

But wait, you were able to move your head as you’d already discovered. You shifted it again, trying to get a better feel of what was around your neck. Metal as well, but loose as you could still lift your head up enough to see it just a bit. It and its dull, red status light.

Inhibitor collar, you realized with an all new dread sinking in. You had heard of these of course, but it was the kind of thing that students sheltered at Xavier’s school would never have to dream of really. Something you never thought you’d have to experience personally.

How naive.

But you still couldn’t give up. Your mind was racing as you tried to come up with any strategies now. Your options were so limited, but they couldn’t keep you tied down forever. Surely they’d have to move you to a more permanent containment at some point, untie you if even for a moment.

Yet, there were guns as well. You hadn’t missed that detail, but you considered it more fully now as you glanced to the long barrells swaying behind each guard’s back as they pushed you along.

They were slowing now though. You raised your head enough again to see elevator doors nearing. The lower testing bay, you remembered them saying.

But just as one guard had started to reach for the keypad beside the doors, an alarm blared, all three of you startling at the sound.

Orange lights lit up along the walls, spinning in time with the sirens.

“Weapon X is loose. I repeat, Weapon X is loose!” A man’s unnerved voice sounded over speakers you couldn’t see, echoing down the corridors.

You could only watch as both guards spun around on their heels at that, guns immediately drawn. The one thing you could be absolutely sure of then, was that you were now the very least of their concerns.

Before you could consider how to use this surprise in your favor though, screams and the echo of gunfire erupted seemingly on top of you all.

The guards were terrified. This could be your only chance.

“Take this collar off of me, please! I can help you!” You weren’t begging as much as you were truly trying to reason with them. “Look, this is serious right!?”

More men were screaming just around the corner. Only feet away now. Clearly their time to consider had run out.

You saw one of the guards glance down at you, weighing your offer if just for that moment. The other was still staring straight ahead, gun braced, body rigid.

“FIRE!” The one not looking at you screamed, and that was it. It was too late.

You flinched as the gunfire rang deafening in your ears, the muzzle flashes just above you while empty bullet shells rained onto the floor.

You didn’t know how many bullets their gun magazines could hold, but the barrage seemed to just go on and on until an inhuman snarl rose even above the pounding gunshots.

Like a blur he was upon them. One guard was immediately thrown against a nearby wall, as if he were made of paper. His gun didn’t even faze the attacker.

You were frozen as you had to watch him die in front of you. Metal blades impaled the guard, blood splatter running down the wall as his body fell. You wished the other guard would have just turned and ran, but that probably would have been fruitless now too if you were being honest.

The attacker had turned immediately back around, one slash knocking the gun away from the remaining guard, and the second taking out his throat.

You were too in shock to do anything but close your eyes in the moment you felt some of the blood hit you. It was warm was all you could really process, before you opened your eyes again to now see the killer standing over you.

His breath was fast, eyes black, no emotion evident but rage. He had no clothing on him above the waist, just muscular and bloodied with metal cords coming out of his body and attaching to some sort of helmet.

You heard the random sound of more bits of metal hitting the ground, and thought you saw a few bullets working out in reverse from his flesh.

He was one of you then, a mutant.

But you were afraid to speak. Anything could set him off again.

He was looking down at you, through you really. You thought you saw his eyes go to your throat. The collar? Or maybe you just imagined it. Everything was happening in just seconds.

His arm swung suddenly, those blades were part of him you realized, attached to his fists as they came for you. At least it would be a quick death.

You felt a burning, heard ripping and even the metal of the bed breaking as he struck more than once.

“He’s here!” Someone else screamed from back down the hallway and the gunfire started all over again.

You moved at the sound, why you didn’t know, it should have been all over regardless. But in your amazement, you realized you could move. His claws had broken through the restraints, broken the bolts that held you to the bed. You were bleeding, but only from cuts as he’d grazed you.

He’d freed you.

The gurney tumbled over with a clatter as you jumped from it. But bullets were hitting all around you as the guards continued to fire at him. You still had the inhibitor collar on, so you couldn’t defend from that. You weren’t bulletproof like him.

And he was already charging them again, but there were so many this time. A bullet grazed your arm, and you knew you had to get out of there now.

You turned, hitting the elevator keypad. You had no choice as you wouldn’t make it out of this hallway otherwise. You ducked inside as soon as the doors opened, trying to stay against the sides even as bullets were now hitting the back of the elevator. The only way was down, and you took it.

As the doors closed, and the elevator finally sank below the firing line, you allowed yourself some real breaths.

To think, just hours ago your main concern had only been whether or not you were ready for Hank’s organic chemistry final. You’d laugh if you weren’t still trembling a little, clothes torn and blood all over, most of it not even your own.

Now it was time to find the others and a way out.

—————————

“(Y/N)?” You heard in your mind, pausing in the abandoned hallway you were now wandering down. You’d left the elevator behind some time ago, but hadn’t yet found any other way back off this level.

“Jean?” You answered aloud, both surprised and relieved. “Are you okay?”

“Yes. We are now. I saw them take you too, but where are you?”

Talking to a telepath was always a bit strange. You could feel her own stress and anxiety as she began to fill your mind. She wanted to see what you were seeing.

You looked around you to oblige her, but from what you could tell every corridor only looked like more of the same in this labyrinth.

“I got into an elevator when all the shooting started, when that man-“

“Logan. We met him too. He’s escaped now, he-” She paused, your recent memories now visible to her. “He helped you.”

“He did.” You felt she both was and wasn’t surprised at this.

“Anyway,” She continued as if something was distracting her, like she was physically talking to someone else, while mentally talking to you. “The Professor needs us. We’re sending Peter to find you. He’ll bring you to us and then we’re leaving together.”

“Okay,” Was all you could answer, as you felt Jean leave your mind abruptly at that. You remembered Xavier’s odd speech earlier, something you really hadn’t had time to deconstruct any further with everything else that had happened immediately after. You supposed they would fill you in when you were all reunited.

But you did feel a significant weight leave your shoulders at the mention of Peter’s name, even though it sounded like this horrific day was still far from over. He was okay too then at least. You hadn’t screwed up enough to get him hurt in a way you couldn’t take back.

Yet how long would it take for him to find you? Should you just stay in place, or go back to the elevator now? You hadn’t found any stairwells or other-

“(Y/N)?”

You’d be lying to say you didn’t almost fall over in surprise as a tiny gust of air was the only other thing that announced him as Peter was suddenly standing beside you.

“You’re as bad as Kurt!” You gasped, before you could stop yourself. You clenched one fist at your side, at least having the self control not to punch him right in the arm as you might have done with some of the boys at school if they had given you that kind of scare.

“That’s the blue kid with the tail right? Not to be confused with the big blue hairy guy, he’s the one that told me your name by the way, or the blue famous chick from TV?” He shook his head, but his eyes were amused. “You guys have some kind of quota on the color blue or what?”

You stared at him. He did like to talk didn’t he?

When you didn’t respond right away, you saw his eyes wander down, then back up. “Red said you’d be a bit of a mess, but you sure you’re okay?”

Your shirt was torn from well, now you knew him as Logan...that man’s claws. Those cuts were still bleeding a bit, but the guard’s blood was on you as well. The metal shackles were also still on your wrists and ankles, though their chains had been broken, and the inhibitor collar was around your neck. Yes, you must look quite a sight.

“You mean Jean,” you corrected. She must have given him some warning at least before sending him. “Yeah, I’m fine. So you found another way out of here, we should-”

But he didn’t seem to be listening, either that or you weren’t very convincing on the being okay sentiment.

He looked quite serious all of the sudden. “I’m sorry I didn’t help you when Colonel douchebag was trying to work you over.”

You blinked. What was he talking about?

“Stryker I guess they said his name was, the guy that kicked you back at the house.” He just continued. “That piece of shit bailed already.”

“How did you know about that?” You asked honestly. Peter had been unconscious as far as you’d known.

“I mean I was in and out,” He answered, seemingly understanding your confusion now. “But uh...” He hesitated, kind of an awkward smirk building then. “I definitely remember you laying on me. The impact wasn’t that great, but afterward was pretty nice.”

Your felt a heat rising to your face immediately. The absurdity of being physically embarrassed at his implication and tone, as you stood here literally bleeding in the belly of some mutant torturing black ops lab was not lost on you.

“Look, I...” You didn’t even know what to say, but you knew if you didn’t start talking now you were never going to recover control here. “I’m really glad they didn’t hurt you, and I’m sorry too if I got you involved deeper in all of this. And I want to thank you for pulling everyone out of the mansion this morning. We owe you so much. I just-” Oh man, where were you even going with this? You looked to him still feeling like you were just digging yourself deeper, “You can stop me anytime now you know?”

He was now outright grinning. “You’re welcome, babe.”

Not helping. AT ALL.

You were staring at him again. “They’re going to be waiting on us, you know,” You felt you were going to be pleading with him in a moment.

“I know, places to be, worlds to save...” He just moved closer and you tensed a little bit. He noticed, but stood his ground. “I have to brace you or you’re just going to be hurt even more when I run you back to them.”

“So is that how you do it, then? You’re just that fast?” You asked honestly. His actual mutation wasn’t something there’d been any chance to discuss. You could infer only so many ways he would have been able to evacuate those in the mansion almost instantaneously. But you knew teleporters too, even people who could move through reality on other planes. There was always more than one way to do something.

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” He chuckled, smirking enough for you to know he was still just picking with you as one of his hands went behind your head and the other to your ribs to brace you. He really did know where you’d been hit then.

His hands were warm, and you could smell that damn cologne again now as you tried to ready yourself for whatever was about to happen.

You didn’t know what you had expected. You knew how it felt to take off in a jet, or slam the gas pedal down in one of the Professor’s expensive cars, or ride on a really intense roller coaster. But this wasn’t that. There wasn’t even any time for your brain to register the acceleration. It felt like just a single heartbeat before you were standing back in front of those elevator doors with him.

It was the deceleration that hit you. By the time your body knew it was moving, it had already stopped again, your organs lurching and your equilibrium completely thrown off as vertigo took over. You leaned forward immediately, trying not to dry heave as puking seemed almost imminent.

He took one of your hands, his other hand moving down from your ribs to your waist as he helped support you still.

“It’ll pass. It happens to everyone the first time,” He spoke, probably the softest tone you’d heard from him to this point.

“You’re telling me there are people who have been-” You swallowed, fighting that nausea back down. “have been with you multiple times?” You meant to say multiple times like that. People who needed to be rescued this way multiple times. You stood up, still queasy as you tried to face him and correct this blunder immediately. Why did this guy have you so flustered!?

“I’m not normally like this,” you stammered, waiting for some great retort from him as you’d just left yourself wide open with that slip.

It was only then that you realized he still had one hand on your waist, and you were now facing him, just inches apart. And the silence was worse. It was much worse while he was just looking back at you.

“No,” He finally said, “I uh...I don’t have anyone that’s stayed around long enough for that.”

He wasn’t joking at all now and you knew it.

“I didn’t mean...” You started, but stopped again when you didn’t know how to finish.

But the vulnerability was gone just as soon as it’d come. His smirk returned as he let go of you, moving forward to hit the keypad for the elevator. “I did look for stairwells by the way, if you were wondering. It only took me as long as it did to find you down here because this damn elevator is slow as hell.”

You actually were a little relieved to finally be focusing back to the task at hand. But you still felt an unspoken conversation lingering that would need to be continued later. You wanted him to know who you really were.

And honestly...you now wanted to know who he really was.

The harsh buzz from the keypad brought you back to attention as Peter hit it again.

A tiny screen blinked “CODE ERROR” in red as he groaned. “It didn’t need a damn code to come down, that makes no sense!”

You responded in a few moments, realizing the likely truth fairly quickly. “But it would make sense if you were more concerned about things getting out of the lab than you were of things getting in.” The same would be true for the lack of entry and exit points. They surely weren’t concerned with fire safety or anything else but keeping their specimens captive when they built this place.

“Ugh, that’s dark,” He answered, glancing at you and then back to the keypad. “You’re almost making me not feel so bad for all the guys that looked like swiss cheese on the way down here. But lucky for you, you’ve got me, and these five hombres.” He waved his fingers at you before immediately beginning to punch in multiple codes in faster succession than of course would have been possible for anyone else.

“Peter, I don’t think-” You started, already having a good suspicion of how this might play out, before the keypad abruptly quit accepting inputs, the tiny screen then blinking LOCKOUT. The only thing that did surprise you was a new even thicker door suddenly closing over the original elevator doors.

And you couldn’t help it then. You laughed. A real laugh. It was just the dumbest icing on the cake. “Okay, Han Solo. I think that will do.” You didn’t care if he would understand the reference or not. You needed that laugh right now.

But he didn’t let you down. Not even for a moment. “Okay then Leia, then you show me how we’re getting past here to save the ugly little ewoks.”

You were still snickering a little, but you shook your head. “I can’t,” You motioned to the inhibitor collar still around your neck. “Not with this on. It’s blocking my powers.” You had hoped once you were all back topside that Hank would be able to disarm the thing. It was probably radio controlled or something like that. “We’ll have to wait on Jean and the others to realize we’re taking too long, they’ll come for us.”

“I don’t wait,” Peter retorted. “Besides, like I said, I showed you mine. Time to show me yours.” He tilted his head, eyeing you. “Really, I’ve been dying to know.”

“Sure you have,” You were skeptical, but it was actually hard to read him right now. Was he actually that curious about you? “And I’ve already tried to take it off, it doesn’t budge.”

“Again, babe. You didn’t have me before.” The smug tone was back, as he evidently had some plan you didn’t know if you were going to like or not.

“You realize, this thing is nearly against my jugular veins, right? What are you going to do?” You had every right to be hesitant you thought. Especially after the keypad failure.

“Just be still. I’m going to vibrate it apart.” He answered confidently.

Okay, now you really didn’t like this. “Again, head, throat, things I need to stay in one piece. What if it has some self destruct thing and explodes?”

“I can pull you away from that before it even burns you. How do you think your friends lived when your house blew up this morning?”

You could have mentioned Alex’s fate then, but that would have been needlessly cruel. Alex must have already been gone before Peter even entered the building. He did save everyone else you thought.

“Trust me,” Peter looked you in the eyes and you could feel yourself relenting.

You really did believe him it seemed. Hopefully that faith was not misplaced. “Please be careful,” You closed your eyes, going stock still.

“For you? Of course.”

You heard his jacket move, which told you he was raising his arms. Internally you tensed-

And then all you heard were pieces of metal and circuitry skittering across the floor in every direction. You were still standing exactly as you had been as you opened your eyes to a too pleased with himself Peter.

“Some shrapnel did try to go into your face, but I moved the pieces. No kaboom though.” His expression changed then to happily expectant, “So come on, I’ve helped three times now, the stage is now yours,” He made an exagerrated motion to the big metal door now blocking the elevator. “What’s your poison?”

Poison? An interesting way to put it, but you knew what he meant. All mutant abilities were both a gift and a curse. Yet even after all these years of meeting people of your own kind, it was still very personal to show someone your real self for the very first time.

Especially when you evidently cared what he thought of you as you realized your nerves were suddenly about much more than just being able to get open a door or not. How would he react?

You took a breath, still extremely aware of his eyes on you as you turned your palms upward. It was always easiest to start with your hands. But you’d need to bring the energy all the way through you to get the kind of power it was going to take to pull this door out.

There was a slight relief in you as your hands began to glow white after a moment. At least you knew you were no longer defenseless, that these people hadn’t taken your abilities permanently.

In your peripheral vision you could see Peter shift, but you didn’t look to him, trying to concentrate as the energy spread up your arms and you closed your eyes. It always felt so warm, like being in the sun on a clear day. It spread to your chest, legs, up your shoulders and over your face. Even through your hair as you willed the energy to lift you up, now completely enveloped until you were a silhouette of a person. Glowing in soft white light and levitating about a foot off the floor.

You opened your eyes again, feeling you had things in control enough now to speak to him. The tone of your voice changed slightly in this form though. There was a hum to it, the energy moving across your vocal chords like every other part of you.

“I’m going to try and pull the door out of the way and into the hall. Please be ready to move as I won’t have a lot of control over it once it gives. My effort is going to all be on breaking it.”

You looked to him after a moment though when he didn’t respond. You knew he was fast enough to keep himself safe obviously, but you had to be sure he was ready. Was he really just staring at you? “Peter?”

He blinked. “Yeah, uh. That’s...” He stepped back from the door, but never took his eyes off you, this weird expression on his face. “That’s cool.”

“Please mind the door,” You reiterated gently, not quite sure what to make of his reaction to your powers.

“Sure, sure thing.” He sounded more like himself then. “Do your deal.”

Your deal as he put it, involved willing this same energy now in a field around the door as you rose your hand up to control it. Once you were sure you had it solidly, you began pulling your hand back, trying to pull the door out of its railing.

It gradually started to creak, but like you’d thought, this was going to take some real doing. You pulled harder and harder, the metal just groaning louder. “Come on,” You spoke, not really sure if you were talking more to yourself or the door.

Your arm was starting to really ache with the effort. But just when you thought you might have to try something else after all, you finally felt the door give. And when it gave, it did so spectacularly. This massive chunk of metal collapsed, exploding out of its rail as it rocketed down the hallway. You just moved to the side to avoid it, the smaller pieces hitting you harmlessly in this form.

To your eyes it only looked like Peter disappeared and then reappeared as he also easily missed all the debris.

Once that obstacle was out of the way, you glided down, back to the normal elevator doors. They were slightly damaged from the removal of the larger door. But now it only took minimum effort to force them open.

You entered the elevator, the inner keypad was also blinking that same “LOCKOUT” error from earlier. So the elevator itself was going nowhere. But this was now no longer an issue for you.

“I can carry us up,” You looked to Peter, though unsure how comfortable he would be with this new idea.

He was standing at the entrance of the elevator already, watching you still. You could see the wheels in his head turning. And then he finally asked. “So, you’re glowing...and flying. Is this like radioactive glow, or I just need some sunscreen kind of glow?”

“It’s just light energy in the visible spectrum.” You answered reflexively. “But not even UV, the wavelength itself doesn’t cause any damage. It’s only when I make it solid or make it unstable that I can do anything harmful with it.”

You could see he may have skipped the lessons on long and short wave energy and radiation in science class as he just kept staring.

“You’re fine, it’s safe” You smiled. Certainly not the first time you had heard such questions. “The Professor and Hank had me tested from the very beginning, I never would have been allowed so close to other students without more precautions if I was that dangerous.”

“So you’re...close to some other students?” He asked almost tauntingly, one eyebrow raised, and it took you a moment before you realized he may be getting back at you for your comments from before.

It was probably just the fact that you were in your energy form now, but you felt confident enough to respond just as quickly, “It’s more like the Brady Bunch than what you’re thinking. Like having a whole house of little brothers and sisters.”

You had already opened up the ceiling of the elevator while the two of you talked, looking up now to the empty shaft and elevator cables. It’d be much easier to move the two of you rather than to try and lift the whole elevator. You reached a hand out to Peter. “I can lift us up the shaft to the floor that the others are on and open the doors, then you can take us to them. Deal?”

You had trusted him to bring you here, as well as to remove that collar from you. Would he now trust you to bring him up several floors without dropping him?

He was looking at your hand. “I probably could just run up the walls you know.”

You paused, realizing you hadn’t considered that. You didn’t really know what all he was capable of truly. But just as you started to lower your hand, he surprised you by grabbing and holding it.

“Yet how many guys can say they flew with you, huh?”

“Practically none,” You admitted. “I don’t make a habit of picking up my friends.”

“You aren’t quite building confidence here.”

“I’m sure that door weighed more than you.”

“And look how it ended up. Again, not comforting.”

This guy was truly something else. “Come here, we take much longer and they really are going to be sending a search party for us.”

You extended the energy from your hand across his body gently. He was obviously much lighter than the door, and the closer you kept him, the easier it would be to move the both of you.

You tried not to make eye contact with him again as you levitated the two of you through the top of the elevator and up through the shaft. Even though you knew you were fully capable of doing this, you still didn’t want to lose focus.

But his voice didn’t sound frightened at all as he spoke up to let you know how high to go. “They’re on the top floor, we’re stealing a jet to get out of here.”

“Wow, but okay. Got it,” You sped up a little at that, no longer worried about passing your landing point as you went straight to the top.

When you reached the highest doors, you were able to force them open with a turn of your free hand, bringing you and Peter safely through and back onto solid ground.

You powered down immediately as your feet met the floor, the light fading back into your body until you were just standing there in your torn, bloody clothes once more. “Okay, I’m ready to get nauseous again, let’s go.”

He actually squeezed your hand before he let go of it in order to brace your head and ribs again. “For the record that felt pretty good. You’re really warm. Zero g’s was cool too. Thanks.”

“Um...you’re welcome?” You answered, a little flustered all over again to your own dismay, and really not knowing what else to say before he whisked you away in an instant.

It really was going to be the longest day ever.

——————————

(Continued in next chapter here)

[jazy3]

Thoughts on Grey’s Anatomy: 18X01

SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

I was really excited for the Premiere and I have never been so disappointed in my life. It took me a few days to write this review because I’m just so unimpressed. I feel like the only interesting parts of the Season 18 Premiere were the Meredith and Hayes FaceTime call, Levi in that outfit and Jo with that hair, and the interviews. That's it. I mean Teddy and Owen’s two weddings were interesting if you’re a Teddy and Owen shipper, but I never have been so that didn’t really do anything for me.

The pacing of the episode was super slow and it was just altogether boring. There were also just so many inconsistencies. For example, Teddy and Owen originally planned to get married at the park with just Megan, Farouk, Evelyn, Leo, and Allison which doesn’t make sense because prior to their break up they were talking about planning their dream wedding. Now they finally get married and Richard didn’t even know about it? They asked Megan to fly in, but they didn’t tell their friends at the hospital after they just all attended Maggie and Winston’s wedding two weeks earlier?

It’s also not clear if Meredith knows that they got married which is weird because she’s the main character of the show and was an integral part of Owen’s previous two weddings one of which was held at her house. Also, Amelia and Link weren’t there and it’s not clear if they even knew about the wedding which is weird because Meredith, Amelia, and Link were all present when Owen proposed to Teddy at Christmas at Meredith’s house and they are all co-parenting Leo together.

While I appreciated the shift to a lighter tone and that they chose to have this season exist in a post-COVID alternative universe where we can see the actors faces again without the PPE and return to escapism the Premiere didn't pack the punch I was expecting. The premieres are usually super shocking and action packed and this one just wasn't. It was just boring and all of the most interesting stuff happened off camera during the two weeks between the Season 17 Finale and the Season 18 Premiere which is just stupid.

I saw the priest getting hit by one of the cyclists coming a few minutes before it happened based on the promo and the context of the scene and there wasn't a big shocking event like there usually is. The pace of the Premiere really felt off to me. My friend Amy who I watch with every week described it as the pacing you usually associate with a nice stroll through a moonlit garden. Fine for episode two or three or a connecting episode but not the Premiere. I feel like they really misjudged what fans were looking for and I’m hoping that they do the work and course correct now that the Premiere has aired and the completely dismal fan reaction as come out.

One of the few bright spots for me was the introduction of Peter Gallagher as Dr. David Hamilton. I love him as an actor! He's great! His recent roles in Grace and Frankie and Zoey's Extraordinary Playlist were fantastic! I was super excited when I heard he was coming to Grey's. I like Dr. Hamilton so far and I'm interested to see how his relationship with Ellis and Meredith having dreams about her mother following her battle with COVID will play into the story this season. While it would be interesting to see Meredith work in Minnesota temporarily like Cristina did back in Season 9, I don't want her there permanently. Seattle is as much a character in the show as any of the main characters we've come to love, and something would be missing for me if she moved.

To be perfectly honest, it doesn't make much sense to me for Meredith to move to Minnesota permanently when she only knows a few people there. Who would watch her kids? If she's going to move to me, it makes more sense for her to move to Kansas where Alex is or Switzerland where Cristina is. Her kids have already lost their father and so many other caregivers and Meredith has stuck it out in Seattle for so long after everything that's happened that her moving to Minnesota for me would be bonkers.

Also, where were her kids in the Premiere? All of the interviews that came out prior to the Premiere talked about how Meredith’s focus at the beginning of the season would be on her work and her kids, but they were nowhere to be found in the Premiere and it’s not clear whose watching them while Meredith is in Minnesota. The interviews also made it seem like Meredith and Hayes would still be circling each other at the start of the season with quotes about how timing hadn’t been on their side, that they still needed to have an official drink and go out on a date, and that while Meredith wasn’t looking for a relationship one might find her.

That had literally nothing to do with the Premiere we saw whatsoever! The kids were MIA and it turned out that Meredith and Hayes started dating off screen following Maggie and Winston’s wedding and we didn’t get to see ANY of the firsts they talked about so much over the last two seasons. So stupid. The Premiere was a total rip off. I hate that Nick Marsh is back and I’ve never gone from liking a character and an actor to hating them in such a short period of time ever. My God. I’m so pissed off about this. What the hell were they thinking? Why did they think we would want this at all?

Don’t get me wrong, I loved Nick Marsh as a character and Scott Speedman's portrayal of him when he first showed up in Season 14. I was all ready for him to be Meredith's next great love and I was on board. But then he disappeared and was never heard from again and it was reported that Speedman wanted to take a break from TV for a while so I mourned the loss of what could have been and moved on. I sat through the out of character nonsense that was the DeLuca storyline in the belief that eventually that storyline would end, and Meredith would get a real proper love interest that made sense and would be her post-Derek endgame.

So, I was really excited when they introduced Hayes and I have really come to love his character and his budding relationship with Meredith. I feel like I've been waiting forever to finally see them go on a date and I am super pissed off that we didn't get to see it. I would have loved this storyline with Nick if they had introduced it at any previous point in time, but now after they've spent so much time setting up Meredith and Hayes it's just infuriating. I feel immense rage over how they handled Meredith and Hayes and Meredith and Nick’s storylines in the Premiere. I'm so angry. The whole thing just made no sense. That Premiere should never have aired. It never should have gotten past the draft stage. It was that bad. The first date and all of the firsts that come with a new relationship are the most exciting parts of a romantic storyline for me and I love seeing all of that on screen. They hyped Meredith and Hayes’ relationship up so much and even had the two of them talk about 'firsts' and dating after death so for their first date to happen off screen along with Austin's panic attacks and bad reaction to his Dad starting to date again is just such a rip off.

I have stuck with this show through thick and thin and for them to reward that loyalty by having the most interesting parts of that storyline happen off screen while showing a bunch of stuff on screen with other characters that they could have just told us about? So ridiculous. I was so excited for this season and now I'm just angry. I'm hoping that they are building to a big mid-season finale where Meredith is going to return to Seattle and by that time Bailey will have helped Hayes out with Austin and the two of them will finally get together on screen but I'm starting to feel like every time I get invested in one of the Meredith's new love interests, they pull the rug out from under me and I'm getting really fed up.

In other news, I'm not too surprised that Megan and Riggs broke up off screen only because Virgin River, which I love, just got picked up for two more seasons and I imagine Martin Henderson is busy filming that and it looks like Megan is going to be around for a while and they had to explain it somehow. I loved Meredith and Riggs together and I hated how they ended that storyline so I'm not sad about them breaking up off screen.

The Premiere also broke my heart over Amelia and Link’s storyline. It’s just so stupid. It’s drama for drama’s sake that’s all it is and it’s tired. When did marriage become so important to Link? In the span of a few months, he went from being totally fine with not getting married and checking in with Amelia every few weeks on how she felt to convincing himself that Amelia wanted him to propose so he did so at her sister's wedding and used her dead brother's children to do it. Amelia's right the whole thing was super messed up and manipulative and she was right to say no.

Link decided marriage was important to him and that fostering Luna would be totally fine without ever talking to Amelia. Yes, Amelia should have shared her thoughts with him too, but he also should have paid attention. Now their otherwise healthy relationship is over because she doesn't want to participate in an archaic ritual that involves signing a contract and exchanging vows? That's just stupid. I hope they find a way to work it out and get back together because I really like them as a couple.

I like Dr. Michelle Lin the new Head of Plastic of Surgery that Bailey and Richard are looking to hire. I thought for sure after that photo of the other guy made the rounds on social media that he was going to be the new Head of Plastics, but then he said that he doesn't do "free" and I knew he was out. I'm excited for there to be another female surgeon of colour on the show as the gender and racial balance on the show has been more white and male as of late and I think Grey's is at its best when you have a roughly equal number of women and men and as many different races being represented as possible.

I think it makes the storylines more interesting and authentic and personally gives me more characters that I can identify with. This new doctor seems driven, determined, and could have a potentially interesting dynamic with Richard and Bailey. She’s also giving me some Cristina Yang vibes and I’m all for that. I love Cristina. Always have. Always will. That being said, I'm a bit confused as to where they are going with Jo's storyline as I thought for sure the new Head of Plastics would be a guy and her new love interest. But Bailey did say they still needed to hire a new general surgeon and a new neurosurgeon so maybe one of them will be for her?

I can't really say that there was anything I loved about the Premiere which is disappointing. Jo's parenting hair dye mishap was funny, Levi's outfit cracked me up, and I liked that Bailey agreed to help Hayes out, but that's about it. The thing I was most excited for coming into this season was Meredith finally being back on her feet and seeing the romantic storyline between her and Hayes finally come to fruition.

Finding out that she's going to be in Minnesota for the foreseeable future, she and Hayes started dating off screen but had to call it quits because seeing his Dad date someone new caused Austin to have panic attacks, and finding out that Nick Marsh is back? I hated it. I don't understand how the same person who wrote the Season 16 masterpiece “Snowblind” with that amazing snow scene between Meredith and Hayes wrote the Premiere. I just don't understand. I really hope they're not going to do a love triangle with Meredith, Hayes, and Nick because that would just be so stupid.

She's a forty something award-winning surgeon who's a widowed single mother of three. Love triangles made sense when she was young intern, but at this point it's just dumb. I also didn't feel the chemistry this time around between Meredith and Nick like I did the first time. It felt forced and flat. I like Maggie and Winston together, but I didn't find their storyline in the Premiere particularly engaging. I'm glad that Amelia stayed true to herself, but I hate that Link has decided marriage is the only way forward and that they're still fighting.

The only moment that really made me laugh out of the hour was when Jo opened the door and Levi was in that ridiculous outfit. I loved the FaceTime call between Meredith and Hayes, but I hated the context. Honestly, I'm not really excited about any upcoming storyline this season which makes me really sad. I'm usually super positive and hopeful when it comes to this show, but this episode just stomped all over my dreams. All I can hope for now is that they pull a twist and everything I was hoping for happens in the mid-season finale otherwise I don't think I'm going to like this season very much.

Until next time!

[piratewithvigor]

My first thought in regard to every band that gets played on my radio station

ACDC: Every dad’s favourite band

Adams, Bryan: Every mom’s favourite singer until Michael Buble came along

Aerosmith: haha they thought Vince Neil was a lady

Alice Cooper: he’s a Game Of Thrones fanboy and I have proof

Alice In Chains: my sister doesn’t like them because she decided AC were Alice Cooper’s initials ONLY

Allman Brothers Band: good music for dropping acid to

Allman, Gregg: That’s too many Gs for one name

Animals: House Of The Rising Sun, or who even cares

Argent: Sometimes Hold Your Head Up is really catchy

Asia: Tuesdays

Autograph: one of the members went on to be a pharmacist

Bachman-Turner Overdrive: There are just so many pop culture jokes about Taking Care Of Business that whatever I say won’t be as funny

Bad Company: with their song; Bad Company, off their album; Bad Company

Benatar, Pat: Always getting her confused with Patti Smith

Black Crowes: I like them for Lickin, but it doesn’t seem to exist outside of one shoddy video on youtube and my old CD

Blackfoot: this band name feels kind of racy

Black Sabbath: Dio was not better or worse than Ozzy; just different

Blondie: I like Call Me, but Blondie confuses me stylistically

Blue Oyster Cult: MORE COWBELL

Bon Jovi: Hello, childhood trauma, I missed you

Boston: ONE GUY. ONE GUY DID IT ALL AND NO ONE KNOWS

Bowie, David: Don’t let your children watch The Man Who Fell To Earth, or David Bowie’s will end up being the third penis they see in life

Browne, Jackson: Another musician ruined by Supernatural

Buffalo Springfield: Jack Nicholson was at the riot they sing about

Burdon, Eric: no ideas, brain empty

Bush: ditto

Candlebox: ditto once more. Who are these people?

Cars: This band feels so gay and so straight at the same time, I can only assume they’re the poster children of bisexual panic

Cheap Trick: I played Dream Police on Guitar Hero so fucking much because it was the only song anyone who played with me could keep up with

Chicago: Chicago 30 exists, but they do not have 30 albums. Fucking riddle me that

Clapton, Eric: 6 discs in one Greatest Hits is too many. That’s called “re releasing your discography”

Cochrane, Tom: For some reason, everyone thinks Rascal Flats did it better

Cocker, Joe: Belushi did it right

Collective Soul: who?

Collins, Phil: If his biggest hits were done by MCR, they would be emo anthems, but because he’s 5′6″ and from the 80s, they’re not

Cream: *Vietnam flashbacks on the hippie side*

CCR: *Vietnam flashbacks on the war side*

CSNY: David Crosby; meh

Deep Purple: THEY’RE SO MUCH MORE THAN SMOKE ON THE WATER

Def Leppard: the only music for when you’re a heartbroken bitch but also a sexy one

Derek And The Dominos: Clapton and ‘Layla’ broke up

Derringer, Rick: Tom Petty if he was from the midwest

Dio: You thought it was an anime reference, but it was me, Dio

Dire Straits: You can tell how bigoted a radio station is based on how much of Money For Nothing they censor

Doobie Brothers: I have yet to smoke weed, but I listen to the Doobies, and I think that’s pretty close

Dylan, Bob: I take back everything I said about him in my youth

Eagles: Hotel California isn’t their best song, but the memes that come from it are second to none

Edgar Winter Group: @the--blackdahlia

Electric Light Orchestra: Actually an orchestra and sound a fuckton like George Harrison

ELO: I really hesitate to ask what happens with the 7 virgins and a mule

Essex, David: no prominent memories of him

Fabulous Thunderbirds: cannot spell

Faces: Who on earth thought that was a good album name?

Faith No More: I got nothing

Fixx: One Thing Leads To Another is a damn bop

Fleetwood Mac: I ain’t straight, but I’m simply not enough of a witch to enjoy them to full potential

Fogerty, John: He got sued cause he sounded like himself

Foghat: Slow Ride slowly becoming less coherent feels like a drug trip

Foo Fighters: He was just excited to buy a grill

Ford, Lita: deserved better

Foreigner: dramatically overplayed

Frampton, Peter: a masterful user of the talk box

Free: dramatically underplayed

Gabriel, Peter: leaving Genesis changed him a lot

Genesis: if someone likes Genesis, clarify the era, because yes, it does matter

Georgia Satellites: sing like you have a cactus in your ass

Golden Earring: Twilight Zone slaps, but it doesn’t slap as hard as this station thinks it does

Grand Funk Railroad: Funk

Grateful Dead: I like their aesthetic more than their music

Great White: there are so many fucking shark jokes

Greenbaum, Norman: makes me think of Subway for some reason

Green Day: the first of the emo revolution

Greg Kihn Band: RocKihnRoll is literally the most clever album name I’ve ever seen

Guns N Roses: They have more than three good songs, but radio stations never recognize that

Hagar, Sammy: I’m still trying to figure out where he lived to take 16 hours to get to LA driving 55 and how fucking fast was he driving beforehand?

Harrison, George: He went from religious to rock, and if he had continued rocking, he would have gotten too cool 

Head East: I respect people who use breakfast foods as album names

Heart: Magic Man and Barracuda are played at least once every goddamn day. They’re not even the best songs!

Hendrix, Jimi: I have both a cousin and a sibling named after Hendrix references

Henley, Don: Dirty Laundry gives me too much inspiration

Hollies: Somehow sound like they’re both from the 60s and the 80s at the same time

Idol, Billy: he’s doing well for himself

INXS: Terminator vibes

Iris, Donnie: knockoff Roy Orbison

James Gang: too many funks

Jane’s Addiction: if TMNT had a grunge band representative

Jefferson Airplane: *assorted cheers*

Jefferson Starship: *assorted boos*

Jethro Tull: The only band to make you feel not cool enough to play the flute

Jett, Joan: icon

J. Geils Band: I requested them on the radio once and it got played

Joel, Billy: he really did just air everybody’s business like that

John Cafferty And The Beaver Brown Band: literally wtf is that name

John, Elton: yarn Elton sits in my basement, unstaring. Please someone take him from me

Joplin, Janis: Queen

Journey: Stop overplaying Don’t Stop Believing. It takes away from the rest of the repetoire

Judas Priest: literally started the gay leather aesthetic

Kansas: another fucking band Supernatural stole

Kenny Wayne Shepherd: the man confuses me to the point where he isn’t in the right place alphabetically

Kiss: Mick Mars and I will simply have to disagree on the subject

Kravitz, Lenny: runaway vibes

Led Zeppelin: Fucking fight me if you don’t think they’re the most talented band (maybe not the most talented individually, but collectively, no one comes close)

Lennon, John: My least favourite Beatle for reasons

Live: I got nothin

Living Colour: slap a decent amount

Loverboy: do you not get TURNT the fuck up to the big Loverboy hits? Who hurt you??

Lynyrd Skynyrd: Sweet Home Alabama is a Neil Young diss track

Marshall Tucker Band: no opinion

Manfred Mann’s Earth Band: VERY STRONG OPINIONS THAT THEY AREN’T GOOD

McCartney, Paul/Wings: Power couple

Meatloaf: I have nothing but respect for a man who willingly named himself Meatloaf

Mellencamp, John: voted cutest lesbian of 1987

Metallica: I liked their appearance on Jimmy Fallon

Midnight Oil: I get them confused for Talking Heads a lot

Modern English: who?

Molly Hatchet: Hollies vibes, but also Georgia Satellites vibes

Money, Eddie: DAN AVIDAN, IF YOU SEE THIS, COVER TAKE ME HOME TONIGHT

Motley Crue: Stan Mick Mars and John Corabi. They’re the only ones who deserve it

Mott The Hoople: no one loves them except for David Bowie

Mountain: props for naming an album ‘Climbing’

Nazareth: I want to make a John Mulaney joke here, but I can never come up with one

Nicks, Stevie: witch queen

Night Ranger: I get them confused with Urge Overkill

Nirvana: Kurt Cobain was the ally grunge needed

Nova, Aldo: he’s Canadian, at least

Nugent, Ted: *serves a ghost as jerky*

Offspring: nothing here

Osbourne, Ozzy: this bitch crazy

Outfield: Your Love is kind of a sketchy song, but it slaps hard

Palmer, Robert: low quality Eddie Money

Pearl Jam: *grunts in Eddie Vedder*

Petty, Tom: I have so many feelings about Tom Petty and they are all good

Pink Floyd: which one is Pink?

Plant, Robert: solo career is a crapshoot, but his voice is unparalleled

Poison: I want them to write a song called ‘Alice Cooper’

Pretenders: I want to say good things, but I have nothing to say

Queen: A doctor of astrophysics, a screaming girl, a disco queen and a diva walk into a bar. It’s Queen; they’re there to play a gig

Queensryche: neutral opinion

Quiet Riot: they got big because of a song they hated. I love that

Rafferty, Gerry: the second-sexiest sax opening in all of music

Rainbow: Ritchie Blackmore created something very magnificent

Ram Jam: one good song and they didn’t even write it

Ratt: I’m sure they have more than Round And Round, but I don’t know it

RHCP: funky, but if you have paid money to hear them, you’re going to The Bad Place (I don’t make the rules)

Red Rider: basically Golden Earring

Reed, Lou: Walk On The Wild Side would be such a cool song if it wasn’t so dull

REM: American Tragically Hip

REO Speedwagon: Props for having a dad joke as an album title

Rolling Stones: Never in my life could I imagine the drummer being named anything but Charlie

Rush: How to make being uncool the coolest fucking shit

Santana: The world needs more Santana

Scandal: There’s something really funny about The Warrior being my brother’s “song” with his girlfriend

Scorpions: Was Wind Of Change written by the CIA? Only the spotify podcast I got an ad for once could say

Seger, Bob: A different variety of Eric Clapton (frankly a better variety, but that’s just me)

Simple Minds: we ALL forgot about you

Skid Row: Sebastian Bach is prettier than all of us

Soundgarden: music that makes you feel like you dunked your head underwater

Springsteen, Bruce: my arch-nemesis. Maybe someday, he’ll find out about it

Squeeze: according to my friends, the stupidest band name ever, but they’re theatre kids, so you know

Squier, Billy: If he can make it through 1984 alive, you can make it through whatever bad day you’re having

Stealers Wheel: Yet another band who I always mistake for George Harrison

Steely Dan: my house’s nickname for the Robber in Settlers Of Catan

Steppenwolf: Either makes me think of Jay & Silent Bob, Jack Nicholson, or that time I had to cut 6lbs of onions

Steve Miller Band: when you’re in the right mood, they slap hard

Stewart, Rod: my soundtrack to summer 2015

Stills, Stephen: Love The One You’re With Is Catchy, but the lyrics are questionable

Stone Temple Pilots: the only band to write a song about goo you smear on yourself

Stray Cats: an obscene amount of merch is available for them

Styx: Supernatural would have ruined them for me too if I hadn’t been into them previously. 

Supertramp: I hunted for Breakfast In America for two years and it was worth every hunt

Sweet: I will never understand my two-month obsession with Ballroom Blitz when I was 15, but it was legit all I listened to

Talking Heads: you may find yourself in a pizza hut. And you may find yourself in a taco bell. And you may find yourself at the combination pizza hut and taco bell. And you may ask yourself; ‘how did I get here?’

Temple Of The Dog: I keep confusing them for Nazareth

Ten Years After: somehow still relevant

Tesla: not the car or the dude

The Beatles: Evokes a lot of opinions from people. Mine is that I love them

The Clash: I showed my sister the ‘Lock The Taskbar’ vine ONCE and it still kills her

The Doors: evokes teenage terror from deep within my soul

The Guess Who: Canada’s answer to confusing question-themed band names

The Kinks: kinky

The Police: wrote the theme of 2020 and everyone somehow forgot it was about a teacher resisting becoming a pedophile

The Ramones: playing all of their songs in a row wouldn’t take more than 2 hours

The Romantics: you don’t think you know them, but if you’ve seen Shrek 2, you have

The Who: If someone can explain Tommy to me, I’d be glad to hear it

The Zombies: I think they happened because of the 60s

Thin Lizzy: Could the boys maybe leave town?

Thorogood, George: blues, but make it modern

Toto: the most memed song behind All Star

Townshend, Pete: just makes me think of the end of Mr. Deeds

T-Rex: Mark Bolan is an icon

Triumph: The no-name brand of Rush

Tubes: like the yogurt

Twisted Sister: they did a christmas album and my mom does NOT hate it

U2: U2 Movers; we move in mysterious ways

Van Halen: RIP Eddie

Van Morrison: honestly, who’s named Van?

Vaughn, Stevie Ray: Steamy Ray Vaughn

Walsh, Joe: The Smoker You Drink The Player You Get

War: Foghat, but even groovier

Whitesnake: the most successful band to be named after a penis

Wright, Gary: the 90s thanks him for writing the song every movie used for the “guy sees cute girl and it’s love at first sight” scene

Yes: To Be Continued

Young, Neil: The best part of CSNY

Zevon, Warren: the album cover of Excitable Boy makes me deeply uncomfortable for reasons I don’t understand

ZZ Top: has been the same three guys since 1969. Lineup unchanged. 

3 Doors Down: They feel a little modern to be on a classic rock station, but whatever

38 Special: Why 38?

[route22ny]

BY MICHAEL J. MOONEY | PHOTOGRAPHS BY DAVE SHAFER

Staring at the front of the Royal Theater, I feel as though I’m looking backward through time. Taking in the cerulean marquee, the painted red fringe around the box office, the vertical ROYAL sign jutting into the afternoon sky—it’s easy to imagine why the denizens of Archer County flocked here for decades. The theater was a dark, cool respite from the blazing sun, a still escape from the whipping winds of the North Central Plains, a glimpse of entertainment from the outside world.

The theater—or what’s left of it anyway—peers out from the northeast corner of the town square. Without the storied theater, this could be any small town in Texas. Weathered barns and rusted oil pumps dot the landscape. Anchoring the town is the imposing three-story Romanesque Revival county courthouse, with stone archways and provincial peaks. There’s also a small café (Murn’s), a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it police station, a few antiques stores, and a single four-way stoplight swaying in the breeze like an apparition.

The Royal Theater as it is now and as it was then.

This isn’t just any small town in Texas, though. Archer City is the Texas small town. It’s the setting of both the novel and film versions of The Last Picture Show, a coming-of-age story rendered in black and white that earned eight Academy Award nominations, including Best Writing (Adapted Screenplay), Best Directing, and Best Picture. In Larry McMurtry’s book, published in 1966, the town is called Thalia. In the movie, directed by Peter Bogdanovich and released in 1971, it’s called Anarene—a name taken from an abandoned town 8 miles away. But rest assured, both places are Archer City: the looming courthouse, the blinking stoplight, and the Royal Theater, where so many of the most dramatic moments of The Last Picture Show take place.

The novel, which McMurtry called a “spiteful” book intended to “lance some of the poisons of small-town life,” received critical acclaim when it was published. But it was Bogdanovich’s film that truly introduced the entire world, in utterly unromanticized fashion, to the intense, sweeping sagas of everyday life in Archer City. The Last Picture Show turned this particular and peculiar town into art.

Both the novel and movie contain language that was considered lewd at the time. McMurtry’s own mother, Hazel, once said that after reading the first 100 pages she hid the book in the closet and called her son that night. “Larry, honey,” she said to him, he revealed in his 2002 travel memoir Paradise, “is this what we’re sending you to Rice for? Those awful words!”

The film, with its nudity and frank depiction of teenage sexuality—including Cybill Shepherd’s first and only topless scene—absolutely scandalized upright, moral Americans all over the country. Nowhere more so than in Archer City, where it was regarded at the time as a “dirty” movie.

Now, 50 years after the film’s release, the town’s past dalliances with Hollywood are somehow simultaneously scuttled and omnipresent. There’s no billboard at the city limit announcing the place’s cultural significance, no notation on the water tower. But there are echoes of the art formed here, about this place, along every street, around every corner. Some might even feel the spirit of McMurtry, who passed away in Archer City earlier this year.

Over the last five decades, Peter Bogdanovich, a New Yorker who operated in Los Angeles, has told the story of the movie’s origin many times. He’d seen the novel in a store, liked the title, saw what it was about, and immediately put the book back down. Then actor Sal Mineo, who’d starred alongside James Dean and Natalie Wood in Rebel Without a Cause, gave Bogdanovich a copy of the novel, saying he thought it would make a good film. Bogdanovich still didn’t read it, but gave it to his wife, production designer Polly Platt, and asked her to read it. When she inspired him to finally read it himself, he was intrigued by the challenge of conveying small-town life in Texas and eventually co-wrote the screenplay with McMurtry. Bogdanovich, Platt, and McMurtry took a long road trip scouting locations in Texas, but ultimately the director realized he wanted to shoot the movie in McMurtry’s hometown.

Set in the early 1950s, the story follows three teenagers—the co-captains of the football team and the so-called prettiest girl in school—through their senior year of high school, as they each struggle to make sense of adult concepts like love and sex and the fragility of human life. Sonny Crawford is the sensitive, thoughtful boy from a broken home. Duane Jackson is Sonny’s lovelorn best friend who escapes first into the oil fields and then the Korean War. Jacy Farrow is the coquettish rich girl who yearns wholeheartedly for something beyond the confines of her surroundings. The Last Picture Show also famously includes an ensemble of carefully rendered adults trying to cope with their own expired dreams and broken lives.

McMurtry repeated over the years that the characters he created weren’t based on any real-life individuals, but the people of Archer City always suspected otherwise. A man named Bobby Stubbs, who was photographed with McMurtry in their high school yearbook, believed he was the inspiration for Sonny. Stubbs had a troubled home life and worked nights like Sonny, and he drove the same kind of pickup truck. He was also once hit in the eye by the boyfriend of a girl he liked. “It kinda pretty closely followed me,” Stubbs used to say.

A woman named Ceil Cleveland Footlick was often asked if she was the inspiration for Jacy. She was “very good friends” (her words) with Stubbs and had been voted “Most Beautiful Girl” in her class. For years she brushed off the question, but in 1997 she published a memoir with the title Whatever Happened to Jacy Farrow?

Because of the book’s reputation, getting actors to audition was a challenge. Randy Quaid was cast as Lester, an awkward, sleazy suitor of Jacy’s. He’d only read the parts of the script that involved his character, which mostly centered on Lester taking Jacy to a naked swimming party. “I just thought it was going to be like this B-movie, teenage, soft-porn movie,” Quaid would later say. “Something you’d see at the drive-in.”

None of the young stars had much experience in film. Timothy Bottoms, who’d only been in one movie before, was cast to play Sonny. Jeff Bridges, cast as Duane, had been a professional actor nearly all his life, but at 21 years old, this would be his first major film role. And Bogdanovich cast Shepherd as Jacy after seeing her face on the cover of Glamour magazine.

Most of the adults in the movie were played by established Hollywood actors, including Cloris Leachman, Ellen Burstyn, and Eileen Brennan. For the role of Sam the Lion, the wisdom-dispensing owner of the town’s pool hall, Bogdanovich cast Ben Johnson, the champion-rodeo-cowboy-turned-stuntman-turned-Western-movie-icon. At first Johnson turned down the part on account of the foul language, but Bogdanovich called in a favor from his director friend John Ford, who convinced Johnson to do it.

Almost as soon as filming started, real life began imitating the art being created. While making a movie about illicit sex and barely veiled scandal, the set was awash in illicit sex and barely veiled scandal. The actors spent a lot of time drinking and smoking together in their hotel rooms 30 minutes north in Wichita Falls, and that led to drama. Bottoms fell in love with Shepherd. Bogdanovich started an affair with Shepherd, dissolving his own marriage while his wife, Platt, continued to work on the movie. (Most mornings Platt styled Shepherd’s hair.) “It was quite a soap opera,” Burstyn said in the documentary Picture This: The Times of Peter Bogdanovich in Archer City, Texas.

This was everything the locals had feared: all the immoral luridness of Hollywood, right here in a part of Texas not so comfortable with unwholesomeness that didn’t stay behind closed doors.

Outside of Archer City, it was a different story. The movie received great reviews from coast to coast. Johnson won the Oscar for Actor in a Supporting Role and Leachman won for Actress in a Supporting Role. The film is still beloved today and maintains a spot in the coveted National Film Registry.

But at the time of its release, most of the locals disapproved. Strongly. The Los Angeles Times ran a story about it with the headline “Movie Riles Town It Depicts.” McMurtry, who was involved in Bogdanovich’s vision, eventually got so annoyed by the vicious gossip in town that he sent a letter to the editor of the Archer City newspaper, challenging anyone in town to a public debate.

His offer went unrequited.

Archer City’s population is 1,848, only a couple hundred larger than it was when McMurtry grew up there in the ’30s and ’40s. The town is the seat of Archer County, created in 1858 by the Texas State Legislature and named after Branch Tanner Archer, former secretary of war of the Republic of Texas. Ranching and oil have long been the predominant industries—by late 1926, there were more than 400 oil wells within 13 miles of Archer City—but many people are increasingly attracted to the town for its proximity to prime hunting.

Many of the locations where The Last Picture Show was filmed are gone now. Where Sam’s dusty pool hall once stood, with its door flapping in the wind, there’s nothing but an empty dirt lot. The Rig-Wam Drive Inn, the burger joint where Jacy dangled french fries over Duane’s head as if he was a trained seal, is just a plot of asphalt and patchy grass. The West-Tex Theater in the neighboring town of Olney, used for the interior movie theater scenes, was torn down in the mid-’80s. Today it’s a small, quiet park with a gazebo.

Some places are still here, but different. The restaurant where Brennan’s character worked turned into Booked Up No. 4, one of four bookstores McMurtry set up around the town square before shuttering all but one in 2012. The high school has some of the same old features, though it’s been updated and decorated with a handful of granite statues marking state titles the school has won through the years.

Much of the town looks and acts remarkably like it did when The Last Picture Show was made. Boys about the age of Duane and Sonny still speed through town in pickup trucks. Men the age of Sam the Lion still stop them to talk about football. The dance hall at the American Legion, where Jacy and Duane twirled around the room and Sonny ran into his estranged father, looks like it could host the same event today. On a recent evening, four or five locals were perched on barstools, sipping cold beers, listening to songs on the jukebox. They got rid of the old Wurlitzer years ago, but the updated digital version there now still plays all the Hank Williams Sr. songs from the movie.

In time, feelings in Archer City softened a bit. Mostly, the people here don’t talk much about the movie, or about McMurtry, the town’s most famous son. You can spend all morning at Murn’s Café and all night at the American Legion, the only bar in town, and never hear The Last Picture Show mentioned once. It’s not the source of tension it once was.

The public change of heart was most apparent in 1989, nearly 20 years after The Last Picture Show was filmed, when Bogdanovich returned to Archer City to shoot the sequel, Texasville, based on a book of the same name by McMurtry. This time the townspeople lined up to participate as extras. People came from miles away to sell concessions or to take photos or just get a glimpse of the nearly $20 million production.

“The bad taste that the movie left for some folks, that’s gone now,” then-high school principal Nat Lunn told the Austin American-Statesman at the time. “Especially with money being short in town, they’re ready for another dose of Hollywood.”

By the late 1980s, the three leads in the first film—Bottoms, Bridges, and Shepherd—had all become stars. While the entire budget for the first movie was around $1.3 million, Shepherd alone was paid $1.5 million to reprise her role. Bridges was reportedly paid $1.75 million. Bottoms, who’d complained publicly about Bogdanovich and said he didn’t like any of his co-stars, would only agree to return if he was given an additional $100,000 to fund the Picture This documentary.

In the two decades since the first movie, Bogdanovich’s career had soared and crashed. He and Shepherd had broken up; he went on to have multiple relationships, and she had two divorces. Bottoms was also divorced and remarried, but on the set he confessed the crush he’d had on Shepherd. Platt returned, too, and brought the 21-year-old daughter she and Bogdanovich shared. It became a grand, twisted Hollywood reunion, right there on the streets of Archer City.

Drawn by the potential spectacle of what was by then some sort of love-octagon, media outlets from across the country sent reporters to town. There were long feature stories in both Entertainment Weekly and the Los Angeles Times. By all accounts, though, the entire production served as a therapeutic experience, healing the wounds of the past. At one press conference, the often-sullen Bottoms hugged Bogdanovich. Behind-the-scenes footage caught Shepherd hugging Bottoms. Residents of Archer County took photos of themselves on the set.

But when the movie was released, it tanked. It received middling reviews, earned back only a fraction of its budget, and even today it’s not easy to find on any of the major streaming services.

A lot of people associated with The Last Picture Show are dead now. Stubbs, who claimed to be the basis for Sonny, died in 1992. Johnson in 1996. Sam Bottoms, the real-life younger brother of Timothy Bottoms who played the mute boy Billy, died in 2008. Platt, the producer and production designer who somehow never pulled Shepherd’s hair, died in 2011. Then Brennan in 2013.

In January of this year, Footlick, the woman who wrote about being the real Jacy Farrow, died in North Carolina. Leachman died almost two weeks later. And on March 25, McMurtry, the writer who created all this beautiful trouble, died at the age of 84.

A few days after his death, nobody answered the doorbell at his house in Archer City, a majestic, three-story mansion just down the road from the high school. Looking through the front window, everything seemed to me to be just the way he left it, from the table made from a giant dinosaur fossil to the towering shelves of books in every room. McMurtry bought this place, the biggest home in town, after he won the Pulitzer Prize for Lonesome Dove. He’d wake up early in the morning, type for an hour and a half or so at his long oak table, then go to the bookstore to price antiquarian volumes. Most of the locals would leave him alone.

On the house’s front porch, a single rocking chair was situated to look out over the front yard into the surrounding neighborhood. Someone sitting there could see the comings and goings of a lot of people. As the early-evening wind moved through, the chair began to rock ever so gently.

These days, I sense the people of Archer City think differently of The Last Picture Show. It’s a part of the town’s story, just like the cattle industry and state titles. The movie is even mentioned on the town’s website, though it’s certainly not prominent.

There’s also a tiny park just off the square with a fiberglass horse covered in brands from local ranches and a display that chronicles a bit of the town’s history. The welded metal wall has separate panels for the town’s founding, the first successful oil well drilled here, and the giant fire that swept through in 1925. There’s also a panel explaining how the town was the filming location for The Last Picture Show and Texasville. Bogdanovich’s last name is misspelled.

A couple hundred feet away is the Royal Theater. Most of the building is a burned-out hull, popular for weddings, photo shoots, and occasional performances. The front of the building has been restored, though. It looks just like it did in the movie, the image that begins and ends the film. It’s haunting and beautiful, weathered and damaged—but still here, still standing, still looking at that single blinking light swaying in the wind.

***

The Last Picture Show wasn’t the first movie based on a novel by Larry McMurtry, and it certainly wasn’t the last. You might besurprised by just how many films and TV shows have been made from his novels. Here are a few:

Hud, 1963 (based on Horseman, Pass By) The Last Picture Show, 1971 Lovin’ Molly, 1974 (based on Leaving Cheyenne) Terms of Endearment, 1983 Lonesome Dove, 1989 Texasville, 1990 The Evening Star, 1996

https://texashighways.com/culture/how-the-last-picture-show-changed-the-worlds-view-of-small-town-texas/

[pretoriafics]

Russian Roulette - Pt. 6

In this series, you will find: Alternative Universe, Soulmate plot, Angst, Fluff. In this chapter, you will find: Scott tells you Derek is missing, right on the night you got a nightmare with him. Then, Peter came to your bedroom trying to find out where his nephew is. Word count: 1.496 Pairings: Reader x Alpha!Peter Hale Original characters of this chapter: Sebastian, your host dad, and boss. Warnings: English is not my main language <3 Yeah, it was based on Russian Roulette by Rihanna Russian Roulette series: Chapter Five | Chapter 7 RUSSIAN ROULETTE MASTERLIST TEEN WOLF MASTERLIST

You took Derek to your bedroom and take care of his injuries. The girls were already sleeping as soon as Bennie and Sebastian. Both of you had spent part of the night talking about all the situation, and you finally found out how Scott became a werewolf. But then, Derek leaves, saying that he needs to hide, and you fell asleep.

But that night, you had a weird and terrifying dream.

You were trapped. You had chains on your wrist, and you were trapped in some kind of basement. A door opens, and a blond woman got in. And when she put a light over your face, you saw a scared Allison looking at you.

Then, you realized that you aren't trapped there. Derek was the real prisoner of that scene. You were just watching things from his perspective.

Sweating as hell, you woke up scared. When you met Derek that day in the car accident, the weird lady came to you. Then, when both of you come to the hospital, you suddenly had learned how to fight. And now after taking care of his injuries and chat with him through the night, you had a nightmare with him.

Always when you see him, something weird happens to you. Is that something common when you deal with werewolves?

You stand up from your bed, ready for another day of work. You go to your bathroom and take your clothes off, ready for a relaxing bath because, God, you need it already. When you turn your back, you remember about your mark.

You put your hair up and go to the large mirror close to you. The red lines in your spine, now, are black, just like a tattoo. The quote "Ad Lunae Lumina" is legible than ever. And you have no idea of how it happened.

With your thoughts a complete mess, you finish your bath, put on your clothes, and give the girl's breakfast. Then, Sebastian entered the house with a box. You gave him a smile.

"Morning, Bash."

"Morning, super Au pair." He gave you a weak smile, and you look at him. Something is wrong. "I need to talk with you. Can we go to the living room?"

"Sure."

You gave a smile to the girls and follow Sebastian to the living room. He put the box on the floor.

"Look, (Y/N)..." He says, letting out a long sigh "I know you did a new friend. Haytham, am I right? You said he's an old and lonely man, so you were doing some company on him."

"Yeah," You said, knowing there's something wrong "What's happened with him?"

"A woman found him dead this morning. Animal attack, you know. Or just a Derek Hale thing. Me and Sheriff Stilinski still don't know why he does all of this seems like an animal attack, but we're working on it."

Your heart failed a beat for one instant. Oh, god. That was how Peter escaped from your bullet: He killed Haytham to stole the bullets as a way to heal himself.

"But, look" He opened the box and, there, he takes an envelope "He left you this letter and some books. I'm sorry for your loss. Do you need time to absorb this?"

Still shocked, you shook your head.

"No, no, I'm fine. I'm just... in shock. I really don't saw this coming."

"Okay. Let me know if you need a break, okay?"

You nod positively for him.

"Thank you, Bash."

Sebastian walks to the kitchen to talk with Sarah and Nat, and you open the envelope Haytham let you:

"Dear (Y/N),

I know I haven't finished my job with you, but I'll let those books and the name of someone who can help you. You'll find him at the Animal Clinic of Beacon Hills. His name is Deaton, you can trust him.

Sincerely,

Haytham."

You let out a long sigh. God, you were so fucked up.

.

You had just put the kids to bed and, gosh, you were so tired! When you took your phone, you saw a message from Scott.

"Hi. Be careful. Derek's on Peter's side. I saw them together. Also, Derek just simply disappeared. Be careful if he appears to you, okay? Call me if you need any help."

You narrow your eyes. Is Derek on Peter's side? Damn. Seems like thing is getting worse and worse. Well, during the circumstances, you think you should sleep with your silver dagger under your pillow.

You take your clothes off and take the second bath of the day, this one because you really need to relax your body. You put on your pajamas, and when you leave your bathroom, you almost got a heart attack: Peter was in your bedroom, with crossed arms. He is clearly waiting for you.

"Oh, good night, (Y/N)." He looks at you, even with some lust in his eyes. "It's a really tiny pajama. Matches perfectly with your... perfect skin."

His comment gave shivers to you. The last thing you need now is a psycho werewolf hitting on you.

"Sorry, but you aren't my type."

"Unfortunately." Peter give some steps forward, getting close to you. "But I'm pretty sure Derek is your type, so... I'll ask politely: Where is him?"

Yeah, he definitely was your type, but this isn't on discussion right now. You arch your eyebrows, pretty confused about the question.

"Why do you think I know it?"

"Because I felt your scent the last time I saw him. So, answer me."

"Of course, you felt my scent on him. He was here last night. I took care of his injuries."

"And you don't know where he is?"

"No."

Peter put his claws out and slides them by your skin with his eyes red as blood. His actions were a warning.

"You spend the night together, and you really think I'll believe that shit? Answer me: Where is him?"

A shiver of fear runs through your body, and your heart was punching inside your chest. God.

"Say it," Peter says, with a low and threatening voice "Or believe me, I'll love to rip Bennie's pretty neck."

"Derek just said that he needed to hide, and then he leaves. I don't know where he is, I swear!"

Then, your mind had a click. Maybe you knew where he is.

"What?" Peter looks at you, knowing you thought about something.

"You'll think I'm crazy, but I don't care. I had a dream with Derek."

"Oh, God." Peter rolled his eyes, turning his back for you, and moving away from you "I don't have time for your sexual dreams."

"He was locked, with chains on his wrists, and I saw a blonde woman. I had the feeling that she was showing Derek to Allison."

When Peter heard you, he stops to walk and turns to glares at you.

"Go on."

"I had the impression that he was in a basement."

Peter approaches you again.

"And what your feelings say about the place? Do you think you can say a place he is right now?"

"I don't know."

"No, I'm serious. Try to concentrate on yourself."

You are feeling ridiculous talking about a dream with a man who is threatening you with death. However, you lock those feelings somewhere in your heart and just act instinctively: You close your eyes and takes a deep breath. Suddenly, you feel a cold breeze on your skin and whispers in your ears - those who you just simply can't understand so well, but you are pretty sure those whispers are carrying you somewhere. Then, you felt: It was him. Somehow, you are feeling Derek. You feel his warmth, his presence, his smells. It's just like he is close to you.

You also felt he had a familiarity with the place he is right now. And you open your eyes.

"So?" Peter was looking at you, full of expectations. Your heart was beating fast as hell. You haven't even known you could do that thing! Maybe all of that was possible because of the mark you have on your back...

"I think he's on his old house... The one who was on fire."

"Wow..." Peter was looking at you completely fascinated "I had never seen one of you before."

You cringe.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"You have a mark on your back, Am I right? Just like a tattoo, who says..."

"Ad Lunae Lumina. Yeah, I know. But I don't know anything about it. I'm trying to find out."

"Let me see your arms."

You show him your arms, and Peter notices, on your forearm, a few red lines taking forms. It was another mark that was being created.

"Oh, it's pretty recent..."

You pull your arms back to you, staring at Peter with a serious face.

"Don't tell anybody."

"I won't, but... I'll need your help."

"I've already helped you."

"Not enough. Come on, put on your clothes. You'll go with me."

[popculturebuffet]

President’s Day Special: Masters of Horror: The Washingtonians (Comissoin for WeirdKev27)

Happy President’s Day all you Happy People! I’m Jake I review stuff and for this oft forgotten aside from the day off it gives us holiday, I got a really special one for you, courstey of patreon and frequent comissioner WeirdKev27. Seriously while Kev knew the bonkers premise, and comissioned it based on that, he hadn’t seen it before doing so. And god bless that as this film is a so bad it’s good gem more people need to see. It’s an attempt at horror comedy that fails at being scary due to it’s gloriously dumb premise, funny on purpose due to half the cast taking this way too seriously and the other half hamming it up so much you can’t possibly take it seriously, It is the kind of So Bad It’s Good gem a critic like me dreams of finding. 

But before I can dig into the femur of this wonderful bit of nonsense, some backstory. The Washingtonians is an episode of Masters of Horror, a showtime tv series from the late 2000′s. The series came about when horror director Mick Garris had dinner with a bunch of other horror directors, and enjoyed the camraderie they all had, complementing each others work and having a good time. So he got them together for a series and it was a huge hit. And honestly i’m not judging the series on this: besides the fact that, at least according to tv tropes, season 2 marked a bit of a downturn, even among season 2 this episode is apparently widely regarded as laughably stupid. It’s very clear director Peter Medak, who did direct a film I still badly want to see with the changeling that looks and sounds like a moody, slow horror masterpiece, had no idea how to ballance comedy and horror and what tone to go for, and as such we have the main cast being wooden and underplaying it (Which I don’t play them for. The mom, played by Venus Terzo is a talented voice actress and you can only do so much with bad direction and a terrible script), and the villians hamming it up like no tommorow. The result is a terrible film but one of the funnest times i’ve had watching something for this blog. 

So before we dig in your probably wondreing what this is about.. and trust me that alone will hook you to see how much more insane this thing gets. And what it’s about is very simple: A man finds a letter in his recently deceased grandma’s house that reveals George Washington was a secret cannibal. Trust me it somehow gets more batshit than that and you can see what I mean under the cut. 

Our story begins with a young woman running away from something at night. Given this is a horror film, she’s naturally dead meat, real dead meat. So far so standard horror stuff.. but what gives us our first hint at what we’re in for is HOW she dies. Two men in powedered wigs, riding horses and carrying sabers chase after her and DECAPITATIE HER WHILE ON HORSE BACK SENDING HER HEAD FLYING. 

So we get to our real protaganists soon after whose names I genuinely did not pick up over the course of the movie so i’ll be using a variety of nicknames because i’m a smart alecky weirdo and that’s what I get paid for. They are a dad with a huge forehead, his wife and their easily scared daughter. Their also listening to talk radio talking about how politicans lie to you and make up the narrative nad how they KNEW there were civilians being killed in iraq and did so anyway. GET IT POLITICANS LIE AND DO HORRIBLE SHIT TO PERSUE THEIR OWN AGENDAS THIS. GET IT. GET...

So our heroes head to the house where they encounter Creepy Old Guy. He has a name, but frankly much like our heroes it does not matter. Their your standard “Family about to get thrown into horror” you see in horror films good and this one, and Creepy Old Guy is, on paper your standard “Mildly creepy but seemingly friendly person.” In fact the guy gives off more red flags than a man in a bear suit standing in front of you with a large blood stain holding a knife.  On the bright side Creepy Old Guy is an utter delight, as he just.. radiates “RUN” while every delivery of his is inherently odd in the best way possible, from showing off his teeth because CANNIBALS AMIRITE, to whiping out a sucker that he keeps in his coat which normally, a horrifying predatory adult giving a child a sucker would be terrifying, especially since I have nieces and nephews.  But in this case he’s just so cartoonishly over the top I can’t remotely take the threat seriously. Also just to make this even funnier the Wife in a later scene refers to him as “that sweet old man” yes just like their sweet, innocent never harmed a fly neighbor, right buddy?

He’s her soccer coach. Anyways the daughter, who is afraid of everything which in the case of this film makes her the smarter than her own mother half the time, goes down to the creepy basement and thinks she saw a man. Turns out it’s GEORGE WASHINGTON... all caps becaue I can’t type GEORGE WASHINGTON half the time without hearing leslie odom belt it before Georgie does a sick rap. I just can’t. I”m not made of stone. 

The Dad calms her admitting that thing freaked him out too.. though he didn’t come down here often anyway because his grandma usually had it locked. So the daughter does what any normal child would do: scream i’m not afraid of you at the portrait till it ends up falling over. Her mother’s reactoin to a giant canvas nearly falling on her daughter.. is to ask what her daughter did. 

But they soon have bigger problems as Dad finds a letter and a fork made of human bone behind it. The letter is a threat to skin and eat someone’s children.. signed G.W.... George Washington.

The wife brushes this off as entirley fake, but husbando isn’t so sure.. which is fair. If it’s a fake then why would anyone hide it, much less the bone fork. Unless his grandma was into sick pranks this might be real and just because George Washington is seemily untouchable historically dosen’t mean he wasn’t hiding something. And while the script often tries and fails to make some sort of message this is the one message it has right: Sometime’s history is alterted to tell the narrative people WANT to hear instead of what actually happened. We’re dealing with that shit right now with Critical Race Theory and many white dumbasses not wanting the country’s long ass history of whitewashing it’s worst decisions. I could see a horror having this sort of thing as the center now and being done much better by someone who actually wants to be here and dosen’t just want a quick paycheck making a story about george washington eating people. The core, a hidden history, a secret society of privlaged asshole cannibals, that’s good stuff.. it just falls apart because they stapled george washington to it and decided the villlians should dress in powerded wigs , george washington wigs and false teeth. I’m not joking but I am getting ahead of myself. 

So the next day’s the funeral where a bunch of creepy old people come up to the daughter.. and the parents do absolutely nothing despite the daughter’s clear discomfort and you know again, these all being strange people. She’s right to be at least a little nervous. 

So Creepy Old Guy has a letter and has a pow wow with big foreheaded dad. He wants the letter and instead of you know trying to be SUBTLE about it after the Dad says no, he keeps trying to bring up a friend who has it and trying ot take it in any way possible. And one up I can give the film is that the dad.. is not remotely stupid. The guy offering so much intrest is a red flag that not only is the letter REAL, but that he’s going to hide it or destroy it. Creepy Old Guy dosen’t help by INSTNATLY getting threatning demanding the letter and getting pissed at the meer implcation daddy daddy do would make it public and tells him to “sleep on it”. 

So our family goes out to eat that night and we get a scene of people ating things messily that I can’t get the tone for, and when our heroes return home... they find the place ransacked, the bone fork gone (Daddy-O was smart enough to keep the letter with him), and themselves rattled. The dad being confronted by some weirdo on horseback earlier didn’t help. They also find a heart left there and the police are utterly usefless.. and intentonally as SHOCKINGLY the white dumbass police officers in a small town ran by a cult of old people are in on it and tel lhim to sleep on it. Once again daddy guy makes the right call and immdietly heads back home with the family. And shockingly for a horror movie.. it works. Presumibly the locals didn’t want to call attention to it.  

Things escalate quicker than that though as the daughter sees a creepy man try ot get her to let him in, in said powerded wig, white makeup, uniform I forgot to mention and wooden teeth I certainly didn’t, scaring her and once the parents belivie her them... and he’s not alone as soon a group of them are pounding at the door. And this is when things gear shit into full blown insanity. yes the decaptation and creepy old man were just the appitizer. This is the main course. So the soundtrack, the family’s actors , everything tries to play this seriously.. but instead it’s a bunch of hammy guys in powerded wigs asking for the letter while looking thorugh the peep hole, whcih for some reason is shot like their in some sort of alternate dimension. Even then threatning ot eat the daughter..just makes me laugh because they look like some evil mirror universe verison of bulk and skull with the sort of evil bad guy voice a child would come up with. It’s great. 

Dad”s Dad Dad calls the police.... and it works. This time there aren’t any molls and the fuckers run off, but there’s enough evidence presmuibly, i’m guessing foot prince to get our heroes protection. Daddy Was in Fact There calls in a historian friend of his. The Historian is our exposition guy, you know the guy in a horror movie whose been hunting this monster a long time and knows how to take it down. Upon being told what these guys were like he not only recognizes them but knows of them, and confirms that yes, Washington was a cannibal, the truth covered up to tel lthe proper narritive other historians wanted. As for these guys, their the washingtonains, a cult that not only wants to keep this truth to themselves but eats anyone who gets too close to it. And this is again why the dad’s smart: he went to someone he trusted, only told him about his perdicament in person to prevent someone else from hearing it and sending goons sooner, and gives the guy the letter to run. He knows he and his family might die.. but likely gets their dead either way: even if they gave them the letter they know the hidden truth and as for the daughter, they apparently like eating virigins. Which is creepy but for once intentonally

So the idiots storm the castle, and in my faviorite moment of the film one of them hammilys houts HERE WE ARE!. It’s just.. I love this dumb fucking movie so much. Our heroes are kidnapped and taken to Washington’s first secret dining club where the whole bunch is there, with Creepy Old Guy being their leader and giving us backstory. And I hope you strap in because while this film has been stupid so far, it’s saved the dumbest for last: So for starters the bone fork is one of a set.. made of continental congress members femurs. I’m not kidding. George Washington hutned down and ate the continential congress here. Oh and it hasn’t begun to get silly as we find out WHy George is a cannibal: he was desperate at valley forge and found it sharped his focus and brainpower to eat humans. Yes George Washington apparently had the power to get smarter by eating human flesh. Which granted i’ve seen done much better in a story I’ll be covering soon enough on this blog, but is still VERY weird in this context. So the cannibals, after grossly snacking on a human which isn’t so much underving as it is just... ughhhh and that’s onlyd ue to my delicate sensablities, i’m sure most horror fans would be unphased adn the bodies all look hilariously fake, and plan to eat the wife and child in front of him.

Cue the historian arriving with the govverment’s secret coverup crew. And what STARTS looking like a big brawl between them and the washingtonians.. is instead just the privlaged dicks being realistically gunned down because they only have canes and dueling pistols to fight modern guns. Seriously tha’ts how it ends.. just lots of shooting and Historian guy having them double check. He then has dad and fam run to get the word out and give them the letter.

Six Months later suprisingly given this fucking country, the campaign worked. Our heroes are now vegetarians, fair enough and we get one last ATTTEMPT at humor and easily the worst as a sterotypically chinese delivery man gives them some new ones... with George W Bush. GET IT THEY SWAPPED OUT GEORGE WITH GEORGE! And they make sure to tell you this! Also while this is played as the bad thing it is.. I..don’t get the toning here. I mean yes again the guy who took us into a war that cost millions of lives for oil intrests is bad, I get that. But is the story saying our heroes should’ve been eaten? That history is worth lying for the bigger picture? That Geroge W Bush Sucks?

It’s just really fucking weird in a movie full of it. 

Final Thoughts:

If it wasn’t clear from the premise of “Actual Cannibal George Washington” this film is gloriously stupid. As I said the main family acts straightly.. but also with the intenseity of a rotted plank of wood.. as Plank has proven an in tact piece is a master thespian. Contrast this with the villians all acting like they did a mountain of cocaine together and you have a bloody so bad it’s good treat you’ll want to gobble down again. While the Washingtonians was rightfully mocked upon it’s release I feel it’s my patrotic duty to try and give this film the so bad it’s good second life it deserves. It may be the second dumbest thing i’ve reviewed for this blog but by god, it’s one of the funnest. Thanks for reading, the movie’s free on Tubi along with the rest of Masters of Horror, check it out. 

If you’d like to help me support more reviews of great media and also tire fires like this, please consider joining my patreon. Patrons get a free review on signup and even if you can’t, following and reblogging is still much appricated

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Have a good presidents day. 

[lululawrence]

lululawrence’s July 2020 Fic List

Click here for previous months’ fic lists.

Hellooooo! Can you believe another month is nearly over? It’s so crazy! With another month gone by, I’ve found ever more wonderful fics! Here’s my list celebrating the ones I read this month :D 

As always, be sure to show your love and appreciation for all of the hard work our fandom authors have put into their fics with kudos, nice comments, and (when applicable) reblogging their fic posts!

i'll be by your side (anytime you're needing me) by genuinelylarry (4k, G, Harry/Louis, a/b/o fest fic, omega/omega, roommates, friends to lovers, pining, there was just so much softness and caring in this fic i love it)

The Prince and the Thief by @jaerie / jaerie (19k, E, Harry/Louis, a/b/o fest fic, alpha thief Louis, omega prince Harry, Tangled AU, royalty AU, first time, hurt/comfort, fairy tale naiveté, scenting, kidnapping, basically it’s a soft thief louis kidnapping/saving innocent prince harry and i for one am here for it)

Compete Against the Stars by @daggerandrose / amomentoflove (31k, M, Harry/Louis, Big Bang fest fic, a/b/o, alpha Harry, omega Louis, pack dynamics, uni au, arranged marriage, plot twists, pining, shifting, scenting, basically all of my very favorite things about a/b/o are in this fic and it’s fab)

Dare you to move by @shining-louist / Whoopsiedaisiesss (6k, NR, Harry/Louis, a/b/o fest fic, alpha Harry, omega Louis, blogger Harry, activist Louis, insecure and shy Harry, this fic was just so soft and I really liked how it played with traditional alpha/omega roles between the characters)

One Way Road To Something Better by @femstyles / Femstyles (13k, T, Harry/Louis, Walls fest fic, Song Fic, based on DLIBYH, established relationship, angst and fluff, bank robbery, this fic basically takes the music video for dlibyh and puts it into a storyline where what happens basically makes sense, and it was super interesting and fun to read)

battling on the regular by @louandhazaf / YesIsAWorld (6k, E, Sam Fender/Louis, Walls fest fic, Song Fic, friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, jealousy, friends with benefits, famous/famous, basically i had no idea i needed a sam/louis fic until i read this and now i need more soft northern boys)

I'm Here by mynameispiaivy (2k, NR, Gen but also kind of Michael Blackwell/Louis, Walls fic fest, Song Fic, baed on Only the Brave, Pining, Canon Compliant, secret crush, they don’t end up together in this one which is kind of lovely in that it is different, but also the feelings contained within are so real and relatable, it was a really great read)

lost in my head by @louandhazaf / YesIsAWorld (13k, E, Harry/Louis, Walls fic fest, Song Fic, Exes to Lovers, Love Island, famous/non-famous, Love Island, dual POV, this one just really hit me hard and had me crying in bed in the middle of the night, so there’s that lolllll, i love the pain so it’s okay)

The Colors Are Different by @goodmorningtoyouuniverse / GMTYUniverse (47k, E, Nick/Louis, Walls fic fest, Song Fic, based on Defenceless, BBCR! DJ Nick, CapitalFM DJ Louis, mutual friend famous Harry, enemies to lovers, pining, there’s so much depth and emotion that is so perfectly displayed and shown in their actions and decisions and motivations, it is such a great fic and so well done)

tempests of dust by @scrunchyharry / scrunchyharry (31k, E, Harry/Louis, Big Bang fic fest, historical, royalty au, prince Harry, secret identity, angst with a happy ending, oh gosh when things fall apart they come apart hard and it hurt so bad, but it was all okay in the end)

Almost Always by @kingsofeverything / kingsofeverything (FullOnLarrie) (2k, NR, Harry/Louis, Walls fest fic, Song Fic, based on Just Hold On, a strange sort of time and space travel, it’s based off the music video, Las Vegas wedding, this fic was so fun and had such a great dream like feeling to it)

Still, Somehow, You're Perfect Now by @fallinglikethis / FallingLikeThis (3k, T, Harry/Louis, Walls fic fest, Song Fic, based on Perfect Now, footie captain Harry, popular Harry, implied homophobia, emotional hurt/comfort, this fic was so soft and tentative and so perfectly encapsulates the song imo)

Strong Enough by @jacaranda-bloom / jacaranda_bloom (21k, E, Harry/Louis, Walls fic fest, Song Fic, based on Fearless, rock band au, frontman Harry, drummer Louis, back from hiatus, ex-friends to lovers, miscommunication, angst and so many feelings, happy ending, this fic takes you on a journey and i loved how it worked around all of their friendships and emotions and history)

These High Walls (Fly With Me) by @fallinglikethis / FallingLikeThis (4k, G, Harry/Louis, Walls fic fest, Song Fic, based on Walls, Rapunzel/Peter Pan mashup AU, Rapunzel Harry, Peter Pan Louis, magic, escape, faith trust and a little bit of fairy dust, hehe, this really was so lovely and I loved the way it all worked together)

face to face at the kitchen table by @disgruntledkittenface / disgruntledkittenface (NR, 2k, Harry/Louis, Walls fic fest, Song Fic, based on Too Young, Exes to Lovers, talking it out, hopeful ending, I really liked how she gave such beautiful snippets of before perfectly woven with the now, and I have no idea why but I’m so attached to Clifford in this fic even though he’s basically just a mention)

Might've Took The Long Way by @loveislarryislove / LiveLaughLoveLarry (21k, M, Harry/Louis, Walls fic fest, Song Fic, based on Too Young, Exes to Lovers, Hook Ups, Getting Back Together, but first there’s plenty of angst and pain, with of course a happy ending, there is so much for both of them to work through and they make mistakes but eventually get there, and that is part of what i love about them, these characters aren’t perfect and I love that for them)

We Had Everything by @lightwoodsmagic / lightswoodmagic (sarah_writes) (3k, NR, Harry/Louis, Walls fic fest, Song Fic, based on Too Young, Exes to Lovers, Famous/Non-Famous, getting back together, i really love how they’re like magnets in this and they can’t keep apart even though they’re trying)

This Morning I Woke Up (Still Dreaming) by @fallinglikethis / FallingLikeThis (3k, T, Harry/Louis, Walls fic fest, Song Fic, medium Louis, psychic Louis, dreams, dealing with loss and grief, Harry’s father passed away before the fic begins, the fic is so sad but so incredibly healing and cathartic, it is really very beautiful)

[marvelousmarvelimagines]

Angry Kisses

Pairing - Peter Parker x Reader

Summary - Based on a request and the prompt angry kisses. Peter Parker has been your best friend in the Avengers for years now. After risking his life to save yours though, you can’t help but be pissed at him. 

Word Count - 2,090

Warnings - Language and steaminess? They don’t actually do anything, but there’s a bit of thigh riding and clothing removal. Also this takes places when they’re both in college so around 19/20.  

People had told you that instead of a resting bitch face, you had a resting murder face. It was one of the reasons you thought you and Bucky Barnes got along so well. Never before had it been an attribute that you were proud of, but right now, you were directing every bit of that resting murder face straight at the boy sitting across from you. 

Peter Parker was not an easy guy to piss off, but from the look on his face, he was as mad at you as you were at him. 

“All right you two, it’s time to work this out.” Bucky said, glancing from you to Parker, with an annoyed look on his face. 

“I’m not speaking to him.” You snapped, crossing your arms over your chest and avoiding his gaze. 

“Fine, you don’t have to speak, but you have to fight.” Natasha said. “You’re both acting like children, and you need to get this anger out somehow or we’re not letting either of you back in the field.” 

That sure caught the attention of both of you. “What?! You can’t do that I -” Peter backtracked at the look on Natasha’s face. “Ma’am,” he added, looking down at the ground. 

You snorted, still finding it hilarious at how intimidated he was by her. 

“And no powers.” Natasha added, fiddling with the tablet in her hands as the lighting in the room changed. 

It was something that Bruce and Tony had been working on for some time, a way for everyone to be on equal ground when sparring. They had only got it right about a month ago, and you hadn’t had the opportunity to try it out yet. 

You already didn’t like it. “Nat, that’s not fair! We never have to fight without our powers!” 

“You’ve been training with Barnes for months now. You’ll be fine.” Natasha said, brushing off your worries. 

“You know what you’re doing.” Bucky assured you. “Now, we’ll leave you two to it.” He said, giving you a little smirk before he and Natasha left the gym, leaving you and Parker alone. 

The two of you sat there and stared at each other, tension and irritation on both of your faces. With how stubborn you knew you both were, the amount of hours Peter and you could sit there staring at each other were infinite. The thing was, you didn’t want to do that. Not being able to feel your powers made you uncomfortable, and you wanted to get out of here as soon as possible, so if that meant fighting him, you would. 

You stood up and Peter did the same. Keeping your eyes locked on him, you reached for the tape to protect your hands. You weren’t about to bust them up for him. You did forgo the gloves though. While he did the same, you stepped forward to the inner circle on the mat, waiting for him to finish. 

“This is dumb,” Peter said, tossing the tape aside with more force than was necessary. 

“Agreed,” You replied, crossing your arms over your chest. 

“Fighting isn’t going to stop you from doing stupid stuff.” He added. 

You? You doing stupid stuff? Was he fucking kidding? You let out a scoff. “I hope you’re joking, because we all know who is the King of doing stupid stuff here, Parker, and I’ll give you a clue in case you didn’t catch on, it’s not me.” You snapped. 

“I was trying to help you!” He replied, his hands waving in the air in frustration. 

“I didn’t ask for your help!” You said, just as angry. “You know what, maybe this isn’t such a bad idea at all. I kinda want to hit you now.” 

Peter scowled at you. “Fine, go for it.” 

And you did. Bucky had taught you a great deal in the amount of time that you had been training with him, and it showed. It was clear at the beginning that Peter hadn’t expected it as he struggled to stop your punches and kicks. Within a few moments he got into a rhythm as well, and you found yourself on an equal playing field until he got a kick in, knocking you down on your back. 

For a moment, Peter looked panicked. He hurried over to you and crouched down beside you, glancing over your body for injuries. “Are you okay?” You could tell no matter how angry he was at you, he hadn’t wanted to hurt you. He never did. 

Then you swiped your foot out and knocked him on his back as well. You stood up, crossing your arms over your chest. “I told you. I didn’t need your help.” 

Peter stood up then, his jaw tense and eyes narrowed. “If you didn’t need my help you never would have been in that situation in the first place!” 

“And think about how much help you were! You almost got yourself killed!” Flashes of him falling from the sky . . . the bloody slashes across his suit . . . the sound of cracking bones as he hit the concrete wall . . . Just thinking about it sent a wave of anxiety through your body. You had thought you were about to lose him. It scared you so much that you had been hurt because of it. “All you did was distract me!” 

The fighting started again, swinging punches so fast it was hard to keep up. It was clear that your words had pissed Peter off more, and his movements became faster and harder to predict. “How do you think it felt?! Watching you almost die?” You almost got hit, you were so surprised by the emotion in his voice. You didn’t even notice he was pushing you back into a wall. “I can’t watch another person die on me! Especially not you!” Peter exclaimed. 

You grabbed the fist heading towards you, and you both froze. Your gazes stayed locked on each other as you slowly guided his hand back down to his side, both of you breathing much heavier than you had a few moments before. The tension in the room was palpable, and there seemed to be something lingering there under the anger. Something that had been there for a long time, but neither of you had ever acted on. Now though, it was simmering under the surface. Peter’s words made his feelings clear if you chose to finally bring that realization to fruition. “I can’t lose you either dumbass.” You said, almost a whimper, the terror you had felt at the thought of it leaking into your voice. 

The dam broke. Your back hit the wall and his hands grabbed your hips in a bruising grip that had you gasping into his mouth as your lips met for the first time. It was like you said, a dam broke inside of both of you. There was no gentle, soft, barely touching lips like you had imagined your first kiss with Peter Parker might be like. No, it was as if emotions in the form of water crashed over you and spilled from your lips. The kiss was demanding, not allowing your attention to drift elsewhere, not that it could with him invading your senses like he was. 

Your hands gripped the soft, slightly damp cotton of his t-shirt, squeezing your fists into the fabric, making sure that he stayed right where he was. You didn’t want him to go anywhere, now that you were finally getting to learn what being kissed by him felt like. His lips felt so smooth against your own as his mouth slanted over yours, and you were surprised by the technique in them, even more so when his tongue slipped into your mouth at the same moment his body pressed entirely against yours. A whimper left your lips at the feeling, your knees going weak at the intensity. It was almost too much, too hot, too passionate for it being a first kiss. 

At the same time, it was also perfect. You wanted more, you wanted more of his lips, his tongue, his skin, you wanted to curl your fingers in his hair and tug until he groaned. The image you had only dared to dream about filled your head, and your hips jerked against his, startling him so much that he pulled away for a brief moment. 

Peter’s eyes were dark, his face flushed, lips swollen and red, and you didn’t think he’d ever looked more attractive than at this moment. The way he was staring at you as well made your toes curl with desire. No one had ever looked at you like that. Like you were the most beautiful thing in the world. Then, in contrast to the bruising kiss from earlier, he ducked his head, trailing a line of kisses from your jaw to your collarbone in a way that had you gasping for air. 

Still it wasn’t enough. You pushed him away just far enough to breathe, and taking charge, you gripped the bottom of your tank top and lifted it over your head. You threw it to the side, leaving you in your leggings and sports bra. Following your lead, Peter’s shirt was next to go. 

You took in the sight of him, and felt a flash of heat weave through your whole body. Of course you knew that he was . . . well, built, but seeing it in person? He seemed to be having the same thoughts, your skin flushing as you watched his eyes trail over you. Unable to stand it anymore, you grabbed his hands, pulling them all the way around you until you were both chest to chest, skin to skin. Once his hands rested on your back, you reached up to run your fingers through his hair like you had imagined. His eyes closed at the tenderness of your touch, and he rested his forehead against yours, his breath caressing your lips while his hands stroked your back. 

It felt like you were melting into his strong arms, feeling more safe than you had all day. You wished that you could stay in this moment forever with him, all soft and sweet, but then his mouth met yours again, tugging on your bottom lip with his teeth. The sensation had a groan leaving your lips and your hands pulling on his hair. 

He grunted, and heat went straight to your core at the sound, pleased that you pulled it out of him. Faster than you expected was possible, he had gripped your ass and lifted you in the air, settling you back down on one of his thighs, the pressure causing you to let out a gasp. At the sound, Peter pulled back, looking concerned. “I’m sorry, is that - is that okay?” 

You nodded. “Definitely okay,” You told him with a soft smile before leaning forward to meet his lips again. As good as the kissing was earlier, it was even better now with the added pressure against your core. You ground against his muscular thigh, desperate for an increase in friction as his hands splayed across your back. 

For so long you had only dared to dream of a moment like this. Peter had been the unattainable crush, the best friend who’s relationship you didn’t want to lose, the person you had never thought returned your feelings for him. However, it turned out that he did, and it was better than you could have imagined. 

Until the door opened. 

“What the hell?!” 

The two of you jumped apart just in time to see Sam and Bucky staring at the two of you. Sam was covering his eyes, reaching out his hand to find his way back out the door that he couldn’t see while Bucky looked close to throwing up. 

“When I said you two needed to work this out, this is not what I meant.” Bucky said, before heading back out the door. “If you’re not out in thirty seconds I’m coming in again!” He called, picking up your shirt from the floor and tossing it to you.  

You grimaced, slipping it back on and turning to Peter who looked even more embarrassed than you did and was tugging his own shirt back on. “So um . . . do you wanna go get some takeout? I think we should talk.” 

A little smile formed on Peter’s face, and he nodded. “Yeah, let’s do that.” 

Maybe almost getting killed was worth it after all. You thought to yourself as Peter took your hand, slipping his fingers through your own.

[zrtranscripts]

Season 9, Mission 14: Fort Knox

Tour group

~

JANINE DE LUCA: All right Runner Five, Mr. Yao. There is only audio surveillance in this room and I have muffled the microphones. We can talk freely.

SAM YAO: I really don't like this, Janine. I mean, okay, they did let us into Van Ark's mystery base, but then they stuck us in this tiny room, insisted we take medical exams. Peter and Maryam still aren't back from the med bay. I can't believe we let them just inject us with tracking devices.

JANINE DE LUCA: We had no choice, Mr. Yao. It was take the subcutaneous trackers or leave Red Scorpion Base. General Bakari claimed he would meet us on arrival, but so far we have only been escorted by soldiers. The security here is intense. Barbed wire fencing, perimeter guard towers, patrols in unmarked uniforms. If our operation goes wrong, escape will not be... [door creaks open] Someone's approaching. [loudly] Which is why they'd better pay well for this job! Don't you agree, Sven?

SAM YAO: Uh... yeah. Yes. Mercenaries, us. Money, ooh, we want it.

GENERAL BAKARI: You can relax. I've relieved the guards in this section, shut down the cameras.

JANINE DE LUCA: General Bakari, there are others in our team -

GENERAL BAKARI: - still in the medical bay. We can't wait. The trackers you've received are a new security provision powered by bioelectric energy. They didn't tell you this, but it takes about 40 minutes for a tracker to stabilize in its new host. We've got that long before your every movement is monitored. That's just enough time. [drops bag on the floor] There are maintenance uniforms in the duffel bag. Put them on.

JANINE DE LUCA: General -

GENERAL BAKARI: I trust you weren't counting on a sentimental reunion, De Luca? There's a mission at hand. Red Scorpion Base has a secret you're going to help me liberate. All of you, out into the corridor. No time to dawdle.

~

SAM YAO: This place is just a maze of metal hallways, isn't it? Shh. Hey, do you guys hear that?

[distant metallic footsteps]

GENERAL BAKARI: A patrol coming from the intersection ahead. Duck into that store room, quick. [cloth rustles, footsteps pass] They've passed. Those maintenance uniforms will help at a distance, but the patrols here know all the authorized faces. Come on, this way. Speaking of faces, it's Runner Five, isn't it? You gave me this gammy leg. My own stupid mistake, I admit, chasing you on that motorcycle.

JANINE DE LUCA: Perhaps if you had not sided with Prime Minister Hakkinen, General, you might have avoided injury.

GENERAL BAKARI: Is that reproach I hear, De Luca? You were always so quick to judge. Sigrid was a monster, but with impressive ambition. It seemed folly to oppose her, so i toed the party line loudly when she was listening. Soldiers served their country, after all. I hear there's a thief in charge these days. Not sure your vote turned out much more righteous than mine.

SAM YAO: Hey!

JANINE DE LUCA: Don't let him needle you, Mr. Yao. The base, General. It is in excellent condition, especially given we have seen evidence it predates Z-Day.

GENERAL BAKARI: Very good, De Luca. Yes, Red Scorpion Base has been here for many years. Once we get to the next intersection, you'll see where it came from. Where's Tom, Janine? I was sure he'd be with your team.

JANINE DE LUCA: Tom... Tom was killed in action some time ago.

GENERAL BAKARI: Unfortunate. He had a weak heart, that boy. I saw it every day I sheltered you two after your parents passed. Thought I taught you to watch out for each other!

I'm not authorized for this part of the base. I've stolen passes, but if we're caught here, we will be shot. Do you see the turrets bracketing the door ahead? Machine gun emplacements, automated. Look at the symbol on the turret mountings below each gun barrel.

SAM YAO: Those are stars and stripes. Flags, American flags.

[door rattles open]

GENERAL BAKARI: And past the door, a flag painted on the wall. They're not allowed to fly one outside. Red Scorpion Base was established by the American military 20 years before Z-Day. Black ops research, top secret, and they're still very much running it today. Quickly, all of you, there are a lot more patrols in the next section. Follow the corridor branch left, on the double.

~

SAM YAO: Look, Five, by the water cooler. That's the portrait of the last US president. God, this is crazy. There's still a US military and they're hanging around a base in Tunisia!

JANINE DE LUCA: A base somehow connected to Ernest Van Ark and V-type fungus.

GENERAL BAKARI: You already know about the local fungus, eh? The US military heard rumors of it decades before Z-Day, whispers unearthed by archaeologists in North Africa. They thought it had martial potential, set up a base here to dig for it. They hit on caves of the stuff underground. There's an archive room on our way. I'll show you what they found.

SAM YAO: Wow! Janine, look! Down the corridor to the right, that looks like the war room from, well, every movie with a war room ever. Ah, there must be a hundred screens in there.

JANINE DE LUCA: All cycling through images of landmarks. The Brandenburg Gate, Times Square full of zombies, a toppled Eiffel Tower. General, are these images current? What reach does this army have?

GENERAL BAKARI: Honestly, the US isn't what it was, but the man in charge of Red Scorpion Base likes to keep eyes everywhere. [drones whir] Come on, there are surveillance drones in these corridors. I hear some coming. Forward.

SAM YAO: [whispers] Likes to keep his eyes everywhere? Yeah, yeah, that sounds like Van Ark, doesn't it, Five? If the Americans are running Red Scorpion Base, is he backed by their army? The others are getting ahead. We'd best speed up.

~

[door rattles open]

GENERAL BAKARI: We're in the main research annex deep underground. This is an archive room, oldest on Red Scorpion Base. If you want to know about the fungus, this is the place.

SAM YAO: But it's just a room full of dusty filing cabinets. Oh, and Polaroid pictures of scientists stuck up on the wall. Scientists in a cavern full of black ash.

GENERAL BAKARI: Certain branches under the Department of Defense saw huge promise in the fungus. They dreamed of perfecting a symbiosis to make humans faster, better, stronger. The early experiments went poorly. People died. The decision was made to destroy the fungus after it nearly escaped containment, every trace burned away.

JANINE DE LUCA: General, the glass tank in that corner, the blackened lump inside...

GENERAL BAKARI: A relic. This room is a memorial. The old research data is all locked away. The lump is a museum piece, scorched rock from a once red cave, long dead now.

JANINE DE LUCA: Then... the fungus is not why you summoned us?

GENERAL BAKARI: Not at all, De Luca, though not a bad guess. What I have for you is much more important. Come along through the far door. Incidentally, you see the old photo on the left, the one showing a team in bulky armor scouring rocks with flamethrowers? They still call Red Scorpion’s emergency response the fire team. These days, they wear powered exoskeletons, flamethrowers integrated. They're what comes for us if we make a mistake. We're short on time. Go.

~

SAM YAO: Loads of fancy computers in here, Five. Must be in a sciency bit.

GENERAL BAKARI: Ancillary data storage. From here, we can access files from the Red Scorpion's latter day experiments. Listen carefully, De Luca. The base contracted your team on my recommendation. Since Z-Day, Red Scorpion's been short-handed. They sometimes recruit outside personnel. Three months ago, one of my aides went MIA. Any deserter is viewed as an unacceptable security risk.

SAM YAO: Did you kill him?

GENERAL BAKARI: Fellow took a bad fall. I disposed of the body, arranged evidence of his flight to the mountains, suggested we needed help to locate him. Obviously, no one's ever going to find him outside, and our security head is getting desperate. Once she briefs you, she'll send you into the mountains to hunt down the deserter. There, you'll divert to designated coordinates. You'll find buried parts of a vehicle I've had hidden. Assemble it and escape.

JANINE DE LUCA: You are not coming with us, General?

GENERAL BAKARI: I'm rarely allowed off the base, and I don't intend to return to the UK to stand trial. I know you're thinking it, De Luca.

JANINE DE LUCA: You betrayed your nation. It would be my duty.

GENERAL BAKARI: And you always loved duty. As a child, you used to turn your night light out on principle. [computer beeps] Give me a minute with the computer. I'll get what you're here for.

SAM YAO: Um, which is what, exactly?

GENERAL BAKARI: Research from Red Scorpion Base, something that can change the future. The file I'm giving you is encrypted, I can't open it. Did you bring a computer expert?

SAM YAO: Sort of. We, um, lost our equipment, though.

GENERAL BAKARI: The file is too big to transmit without powerful equipment. If you were able to decrypt it, you might have been able to send key details out. As it is, you'll need to get this thumb drive to the UK intact. If anyone suspects you're smuggling data off the base, you're dead, understand?

JANINE DE LUCA: General, if we leave you here -

GENERAL BAKARI: I'll be fine, so long as the operation succeeds. Humanity, kin, and hope, De Luca. That's what this is for. Do not let me down. The head of security just pinged me. The rest of your team is done in the medical center. She wants to brief you all, stat. We need to get back. There's one more thing I need to give you. Through the door on the right. The doctors should be on their break. This way, run!

~

JANINE DE LUCA: General, is this a hospital ward?

GENERAL BAKARI: It's an emergency care area. Ah, here it is. Five, give me your arm. My research indicates you'll be the best subject for this.

SAM YAO: Wait, what-what are you doing? You can't just inject strange substances into people!

GENERAL BAKARI: The bio data in the injection is a crucial component of the information in the files. The only way to transport it is inside a living host.

JANINE DE LUCA: It's long past time you explained exactly what this information is, General.

GENERAL BAKARI: It's a cure, Janine.

SAM YAO: For what?

GENERAL BAKARI: For everything. Every ailment that plagues humanity, every virus, every infection. A panacea.

JANINE DE LUCA: That's impossible.

GENERAL BAKARI: No. It may take years, even generations to formulate a usable vaccine, but the germ of it is here. The zombie plague has brought such pain to humanity. I accept I played my part in it. But this data, the antibodies in Five's blood, and the files on that drive, they may be the one worthwhile thing to come out of all that death.

JANINE DE LUCA: Then I leave the decision to you, Five. Very well. Proceed, General.

SAM YAO: I'm just gonna, um, not be here watching that. Injections always make me feel queasy.

GENERAL BAKARI: Your trust will be repaid, Janine, I promise you.

JANINE DE LUCA: I hope so.

SAM YAO: Oh my God. Janine, Five, over here! There's a door with a little porthole. On the other side, it's-it's Van Ark! He's unconscious, hooked up to, well, it's like a giant dialysis machine. Looks like it's draining him.

GENERAL BAKARI: I was saving him until last. Good bait to get you here, but if I explained too soon, you'd only get distracted.

JANINE DE LUCA: Is Van Ark running the research department? What are the Americans giving him through those tubes?

GENERAL BAKARI: Van Ark running the place? [laughs] Not at all. The fellow at the top, no one ever sees. Nasty piece of work by all accounts. But Van Ark here, he isn't in charge of anything. Van Ark is one of the experiments.

~

[jitteryjive]

FANTSY AU OH BOY*sits down and brings out a bag of popcorn and a large fanta* I WANA LISTEN ABOUT THIS ONE

HELL YEAH!!!

also apologies for this taking so long to answer!!! I wanted to write everything down :)

warning: this will be a long post even though it’s incomplete! also this will contain ode/pmtok chapter three spoilers since I’m not ignoring the fact that the game exists

tags contain all triggers.

-

okay, so basically, this niche au is entirely centered around the protagonists of my normal pmtok fics, consisting of Sea Captain, Ode, Prof, Cherub, DJ, and Shroomses. I’m sorry I don’t know why it’s such jitteryjive-protags-toadcentric but whatever, sorry guys

let’s start five thousand years ago. five thousand years ago, a pirate by the name of Captain Ode stole a legendary item from the heavens called the Marino.

it was simply a simple barter for the crown of the desert, belonging to a widespread king named King Shroomses (not to interrupt but HOLY FUCK his later designs in this story are like YES). for a while now, he’s held a grudge against him, as he’s much more skilled in stealing in this au and does stuff to fuck with him.

so, one day, Ode comes to make a deal with the King. he proposes that, if he lets him inherit the entire kingdom right now, he’ll have in possession both the Marino and boundless riches he’d stolen from aristocrats and oligarchies.

however, things don’t go as planned. Ode is captured by the King in response to the deal, surprising him.

he’s told to return the Marino to the heavens or else. like the crafty pirate that he is, Ode creates a plan to get away with the crown, and to seal the deal in a way the King won’t realize.

he tries to become king in the dead of night. he’s found attempting to steal the responsibility of being a ruler of the Kingdom, and apparently, this was the last straw.

this is where canon goes downhill. instead of being frozen and revived yadayada, he’s brutally executed on the spot (it’s not relevant to the plot but he was guillotined if you were wondering, ouch).

even though he’s, well, dead now, the King is still upset over his fuckery, and with necromancers growing stronger around him, he decides to take measures to ensure he will never walk the earth ever again.

he creates an elaborate labyrinth and hides the body of the pirate, convinced no one will ever revive his presence, and he goes back to his throne.

that isn’t the end of his story, though— he feels worse and worse for executing him in such a painful way, all on a personal grudge. it isn’t kingly at all to feel petty and take a technically innocent person’s life, even if everything he said was genuine.

over time, in his head, his morals degrade and his ruling abilities deteriorate as he falls into madness, believing he isn’t fit to rule at all with such a sin committed.

King Shroomses goes to Sedjet, the Fire God, to receive punishment. however, as a divine being due to his blessings, he cannot die from fire (MARY SUE ALERT /j).

he is severely injured, though, earning permanent magic scars all over his body that reek of flames and intended death.

so, what does he do now, to step onto the gallows and rid his kingdom of his evil doings?

the King decides to put himself into eternal sleep (contrasting from the non-au theory that he didn’t intend to sleep for a couple thousand years lmao). he curses himself a flower called the sleeping lily, shutting down his body and sending him into what is essentially a magic coma. he cannot be woken up, unless the lily is destroyed (causing him immense pain), or his living conscience is taken over. the way the curse works is that he allows himself to only think— his intention is to suffer and think over everything he’s done, to rid his body and his kingdom of anymore of his madness and horrible intention.

he orders his kingdom to set a new ruler, and to seal him into a room where his flowers will be kept and connected to his immobilized body. combined with the heavy doors, the flower’s intense properties, and the now hidden key to the room, there is essentially no way to wake him up. the King has finally gotten his wish— he will do the same as Ode and never live again.

he earns the new nickname of the Sleeping King, the once proud and prominent ruler dissolving into nothing more than a mysterious legend and a locked room. again, it’s what he would’ve wanted, to lose everything he’d built up to.

now, present time! woohoo!

five thousand years later, the story now focuses on a young bard by the name of Peter (this is DJ in the au, it’s his first name). Peter is a necromancer bard who comes from a long line of.. oh, pyromancers. they’re not very happy he’s chosen a different route in magic. (this is based off my headcanon/theory that he’s the Lighthouse Keeper in pmcs, just for kicks n laughs lol)

they have dreams of being able to revive someone great, to be known as an important necromancer who’s skilled at what they do. he’s had a dream to revive those important to him, too, considering an incident from long ago when a face-stealing monster (hole punch, not derogatory) took his friends’ lives and nearly took theirs.

however, Peter has no opportunity to revive any great figures of the past— where in the world would he find someone, asking for a necromancer to try their skills and revive an ancient person fo the past?

he finds a scholar named Baker (ahhh prof the homosexual), who also happens to be obsessed with archeology and a certain dead figure in history that he has direct plans to revive and.. okay, on second thought, they find him sort of strange.

he wants to revive a dead pirate named Captain Ode, just a fantastical legend, to have him explain the entirety of his long-dead time. it could provide context for the backstory of the Sleeping King or perhaps the barren desert kingdom that once held the two figures of legend and wonder.

well, it works for Peter, considering they’ve got similar focuses, and they actually become friends! they’re besties now.

to practice the skills of an experienced necromancer, he goes around the world with Baker, the two practicing their skills and gradually collecting what little information they can scavenge for about the infamous pirate, now a shadow to the world’s past.

one day, though, things drastically change and pick up the pace. as they’re passing through a forest, known for its holiness and direct paths into the heavens, an angel falls down from heavens.

and not gracefully, as the fucker just like— *THUNK* hits the ground and doesn’t wake up.

now Peter (an inexperienced necromancer) and Baker (a wimpy scholar) are standing in front of an angel, pale and covered in feathers that fell off their small wings.

I think you can guess who this is, lol.

after taking the dead? unconscious? whatever angel to safety, they wake up. and instantly start freaking out, because through the jumble of words they’re spitting out, the two friends make out essentially:

they were walking through the heavens, guarding the clouds like usual, when the angels all around them began to panic and freak out. somehow, a monster with blades (scissors, not derogatory once again) had gotten in, and was now killing angels by slicing them in half and causing awful chaos all around.

at some point as they were running away, someone said a warning and shoved them from behind, breaking the magic barrier in the clouds and sending them falling all the way through the heavens to the vines to the canopies, and now onto the ground they were on.

so, essentially, this terrified angel going by the name of Cherub had just survived an attack from a monster and had fallen an impossible height onto earth, where they were now trapped. great.

they agree to take them into their care until they’re back to full health, and they’ll find a way to return them to the heavens— it’s safe to assume they’ll be in trouble for befriending a (literally) fallen angel.

the thing is, they don’t want to go back.

Peter and Baker are confused until they elaborate. recently, Cherub has taken up interest in a long-dead pirate by the name of Captain Ode. they’d already gotten punished for researching such a horrible, damned name in the heavens. he’d stolen the Marino, a precious artifact that was perhaps lost to time now, ruining any chance of letting those on earth to enter the heavens.

since they were so interested in Ode’s character, and that they held the belief he wasn’t as bad as the angels swore he was, they didn’t want to return to angry attendants who despised their growing opinions.

they proceed to ask if they can join them in adventuring, and their quest to revive Ode for answers of everything— they’ve always wanted to see the world.

with even more opportunity for information on a silence figure of the past, they accept them into their party. together, Peter, Baker, and now Cherub set off into the wide world of fantasy, still searching for an answer on the Pirate of Dreams and the Sleeping King.

the three become close friends, stringing quite tightly together that there is no room for anyone else— it’s just Peter, Baker, and Cherub against the world’s judgement, adventuring and fighting monsters and studying dead people.

which messes with a lonely Ken, a sea captain (Sea Captain) who considers himself ‘friends’ with the three. he isn’t sure where he stands in their relationship— he believes that all he is is a figure of transportation, boating them across oceans and supporting their adventures despite his buried jealousy and growing sadness.

he oh-so-wishes he could be part of their world. Ken wishes he could show his unused swordfighting abilities, be able to research whatever legend they’re investigating, join them and be considered an actual friend.

but, every time he asks, the three worried adventurers always say that they’re afraid he won’t be safe enough to come with them. he technically doesn’t own a sword he knows how to wield (why did he choose such a specific weapon..?), and they would hate for him to perish on a certain adventure. besides, they were scared, thinking about how he wasn’t adapted to the environments they’d been in— would he actually survive if he came along?

and every time, Ken’s pleas are refused. when will he ever get his wishes, to be part of them? to be as esteemed as Ode, the seafarer they’ve been researching?

but those are childish dreams, he tells himself. he knows he will never be important to them.

so Ken spends his days, sailing the ocean, wondering what his purpose is when his former purpose was nothing more than expectant ramblings. he’ll never be an adventurer, and he knows this.

the first section of this story is spent detailing Ken’s issues with his loneliness and yearn, and detailing the adventures our three journeyers are going about on, leading up to the true plot of the story.

Baker comes to find information that there is an ancient city deep in the desert, a kingdom of forgotten dreams and necromancers. as Peter is a necromancer bard and likes gathering crowds to their music, a small city full of necromancers is his place to be.

it’s also confirmed by Cherub that this is the assumed kingdom where the Sleeping King resides, the only ‘living’ person left who knows the location of Ode’s body. is he exactly alive, though, they’re not sure.

all they have to do is wake up the basically-fictional-at-this-point King, and they’ll be on their way to getting their precious answers about the history of the ancient times.

also, by this point, the strange party the three have created has taken up a name. they call themselves the Sun Keepers. (this is essentially a way to stop saying “the three” “them” “the group”).

the Sun Keepers head to the Sandcastle Kingdom (YES THIS IS A REFERENCE), asking the long-time residents where to find the Sleeping King. but for some reason, they get ridiculed and laughed at.

one of the residents elaborates that there is no way to find him, because his chambers were magically sealed with the only key that could open them. really, no one knew where the keeper of the key was, or even if she was still alive, narrowing down their chances of ever meeting the Sleeping King in general. woah, plot shit.

their journey takes a brand new turn when they go out, searching everywhere they know for the key that could lead them to the Sleeping King and then Ode.

eventually, more “oh HELL YEAH” plot shit happens where they have to duel the keeper in a battle of wits for the key. Baker’s actually being put to use 😳 also CHERUB USES THEIR AXE. IN SOME OF THE SCENES HERE

once they have the key in their possession, they head to the Sandcastle Kingdom, ready to open the chambers of the Sleeping King after all eternity of slumber.

when they break open the doors, they discover they’ve forgotten the fact he can’t be awoken— considering that he’s spiritually and physically connected to quite a few sleeping lilies, it’s going to be very hard to wake up the, well, Sleeping King.

they attempt a few things (avoiding the last resort of cutting off the lilies and causing him pain) such as naturally trying to wake him up I.e shaking his shoulders, having Peter try to revive him with necromancy despite him being alive, and using heavenly methods to wake him up.

with no way to wake him up, they, downtrodden, leave and lock his chambers. despite all this, hope was not entirely lost, meaning they had to take a forbidden path as to not risk his life and kill the king.

Cherub finds a way to cast a spell that will temporarily allow them to ‘intrude’ his mind, aka just fucking with his thoughts to get him to wake up. it’s difficult at first, as there are no thoughts to be able to intrude (his mind is oddly empty), but they’re able to wake him up.

the sleeping lilies disconnect, he starts breathing again, and King Shroomses is once again awake.

things go VERY differently that expected. instead of standing up or speaking or doing anything, he’s simply in shock and dumbfounded at the fact that he’s actually awake after thousands of years of thinking to himself, preserved in the ancient chambers of his palace.

he then says that he’s confused that two peasants and a divine being had woken him up with no guards in sight— was this some kind of mistake?

the Sun Keepers explain that they’ve woken him up to find the location of Ode’s body, to resurrect him for answers of a pirate’s past.

knowing he was the one who despised Ode and executed him, they expected him to put up a fight and to protest against bringing him to life, he accepts, saying he’ll allow it.

Shroomses explains that he doesn’t care whether Ode is alive or dead at this point— he is nothing more than a legend of the past, and he has nothing to lose or gain from bringing him back to life. so, bringing the one he so awfully killed to fruition, it’s not wrong in his book in the slightest.

he also elaborates that Ode’s body is hidden in a large labyrinth from thousands of years ago. originally, before he had his downward spiral, he despised the thought of Ode returning to mortality, so he’d created this elaborate prison for his body so no one could find him.

their goal won’t be easy to reach if they’re literally going to have to fight tooth and nail to get to the bones of a dead pirate. it’s really sucky for them that, now that Shroomses doesn’t care about whether he’s dead or alive anymore, there’s no reason for the labyrinth to be there.

he lends them a couple things to aid them in their journey, hands them the key to open the labyrinth, and wishes them off.

Shroomses also passes over the old clothing of Ode, his trustworthy, recognizable coat. if he’s going to be alive again, he may as well have the clothes he’s always worn.

he doesn’t even bother to leave the room or follow them or greet anyone— he simply sits back down into his ancient throne, amongst the dead sleeping lilies, and thinks about things for the first time in a long while.

with their road rocky, the Sun Keepers nervously set off to achieve what they’ve come for.

Ode, the Pirate of Dreams, soon to breathe the air of life once again.

(also, if you’re thinking they could’ve asked Shroomses about the past, they were specifically looking for Ode’s insight, as he traveled everywhere and Shroomses did not.)

the trip isn’t easy in the slightest at all— the three risk death and peril as they make their way through the endless structure, holding the bones of the dead man somewhere in its hands.

the worst part is is that they don’t know his location in this maze— it’s a mystery to where his bones might be hiding. good thing Baker has a shovel, though.

and Peter’s afraid to tell his friends that they might not be able to fully/actually revive Ode. they might not be strong or magically potent enough to bring the body of an ancient, ancient man back to life and somehow reverse its decay so the body is all back together.

hopefully, this won’t all go to hell and be for nothing. right?

after hours of staving off the magic of the labyrinth, a defense system to keep out people like them, they’re finally at the end of their path.

a small, simple room, with a grave marked with Ode’s name.

Peter casts the spell. at first, it’s messy— there’s blood, there’s guts, there’s things he wished he hadn’t seen.

but Ode walks again. he’s, surprisingly, acting normal— unlike Shroomses, who sat there for at least thirty seconds processing his existence.

they give him his coat, and now he’s in the full, depicted appearance of himself— the Pirate of Dreams, with his red spots and his blue coat.

he asks who they are, and the Sun Keepers explain just that. Peter, the young necromancer who’d just revived him. Baker, a scholar who’s been waiting to ask him so many questions. And Cherub, a fallen angel who’s been adventuring with them.

Now that he knows who they are, he nonchalantly agrees to teaching them everything he knows. although he is ruffled his peaceful deaths was interrupted, they’ve come this far to learn about him.

Ode doesn’t exactly have any opinion on this— besides, he’s got nothing better to do.

they depart together with small talk and no fanfare.

the four spend the next months learning all about the pirate. Ode does as they say and gives up everything he’s ever seen and learned. Ransacked ships, treasure islands, dead kingdoms of the past, everything an adventuring pirate would see on their travels.

they learn everything he’s been holding onto, the sights he’s taken in and the world he’s experienced.

every word out his mouth is written down and stored away for reference, everything now a symbol of the life he lived before his execution.

Ode bonds with the three, learning about them too and how they all met— even if it’s not an equal exchange, he still finds it usefully interesting.

finally, nothing’s left for them to learn. the three thank him profusely for his help.

he leaves with a simple goodbye to the three, off to apparently re-see the world in new eyes, walk on the modified land he’d ran across thousand of years ago.

the Sun Keepers know their lengthy, strenuous adventure is over now, but they’ve grown so close to one another they can’t help but want to keep going in their futures together, journeying through lands untouched and keeping their reputation as reviving such a famous figure of the past.

everything is well.

of course, that’s what they think. they’re under the oblivious impression that Ode had been cooled down to an unbiased legend, happy to comply to anything.

they’re painfully wrong, because he hates them.

at first, Ode didn’t know who they were— he assumed they were random adventurers who didn’t understand who he really was, which was technically true.

but when they explained that King Shroomses had helped them, he understood who they were. they were evil. they were malicious people, working with the man who’d so shamelessly killed him without a single thought.

and he was offended by how much they used him. at first, when he rested in his grave and grew dormant, he was upset that he was wrongfully executed. but after time, he’d gotten used to the blissful silence and approaching eternity of sleep. it was peaceful, really— no more panic or anger or joy or sadness.

he was dead, and he was fine with that. and that was where he expected to stay.

until these things that held themselves so high revived him with their shitty magic and said they needed him for— what— writing a book or something?

Ode couldn’t believe they’d brought him back into life, overwhelming and miserable for him now, just to learn about them.

they so happily worked with the King he hated, treating him like he was nothing more than a project to be studied. actually, that was who he was to them!

Ode analyzed their behaviors and got them to give up the things they were so vulnerable with.

he was finding the best way to kill them.

they were clearly affected by the state of Shroomses’ deteriorating mindset, nothing more than arrogant adventurers who gave him bad purpose. if he killed them off, he could move onto his bigger goal— the King.

and then he’d finally be at rest.

he targets the Sun Keepers first. he hears they’ve gotten off a boat in a maritime town, so he heads there to find and quietly take their lives.

however, as he’s searching the area by the docks for the sight of a purple haired bard, a scholar in brown, and a small angel with an axe, he hears.. crying.

Ode’s torn. he can either find them and kill them, or he can find the person who sounds like they’re sobbing their eyes out.

he chooses the latter— as morally screwed as he is, he isn’t going to abandon whoever’s crying.

he then discovers the crying’s coming from the boat that he hears belonged to the Sun Keepers. either one of them has been separated, which is lucky for him, or they’ve hurt someone dearly, only adding to the reasons to despise their guts.

Ode finds a freckly sailor, clad in blue, crying very hard in the corner of the boat’s cabin.

he won’t leave them behind, so he sits down next to them and asks who they are.

they admit they’re confused someone’s actually talking to them, then explains that their name is Ken. he’s a sailor who’s friends with a very popular adventuring team, the Sun Keepers.

oh.

Ode mentions that he’s.. ‘looking’ for the three, which prompts Ken to immediately direct him towards them, but he refuses his offer— some foolish adventurers don’t matter when he’s in pain.

the sailor is still perplexed by how considerate he’s acting (even though he’s literally asking what his name is..?), apparently not being used to people so nice to him. it’s been a while since someone’s considered his feelings, boating around so many people around the world.

after a bit of coaxing from Ode, he eventually lets slip that he hates his life. he’s such a miserable, greedy person who’s overly jealous of everything about the Sun Keepers.

they won’t let him adventure because they think he’s too weak for it. they’ve got such strong relationships with one another that it’s painful to even watch them stand together. he’s been friends with Baker for so long, so why did it take so little time for him to be painted over with new friends?

he finally confesses that he wants to know just why they ignore him so much, what they’ve been doing that’s making him a ghost in their lives.

Ode painfully reveals how he’s technically the reason why— they’ve been searching for him.

he expects the downtrodden Sea Captain to retaliate or get angry with him, but all he does is sadly accept the truth. it’s really his fault he’s so obsessed with the three.

the pirate backs up his feelings and opinions, however— this isn’t normal behavior in a friendship. this is neglect on their part, and he is a pawn in their game of pathetic research.

he finally speaks up. he says he hates the Sun Keepers, because they’re working with the man who wrongfully killed him over a stupid grudge of his. and they support this! they brush over it like some kind of mistake!

Ken is horrified to hear this, now knowing the deeds of the ones he is now ashamed to call his friends. how could he have been so blind to their horrible tolerance?

and that’s not all— Ode had been revived only to be used for research. he was treated like a lab rat, being continuously squeezed for answers about the past and everything he could remember. it was torture to do it, working tirelessly to give them what he needed.

combined with the fact Ken was only needed just to boat them around (as assumed), they were used in different ways by the same people.

they’re so much worse than he thought, it’s realized.

then Ode asks him something he’d never expected to be offered— if he’d like to join him in killing the Sun Keepers and King Shroomses, to finish off the ones causing them both pain.

it’s a hesitant thought, but he finds it’s the only way to feel better. obviously, they don’t care enough to listen to his pleas to adventure or even be friendlier with them.

Ode promises he’ll never treat him as awfully as the two have been treated— he’ll genuinely be his friend in exchange for working together.

that day, Ken left behind his role as an unsatisfied way to ferry a ‘friend’ around, and he became the best thing he’s experienced—

a bad person. he’s tired of being good, he wants to do bad things.

now that his hunger to be so much better than his measly past self is only temporarily satiated, he’s ready to use those swordfighting abilities he’d left idle, and join Ode on his journey to kill the Sun Keepers and the King of the Desert.

the two set off on foot towards the Sun Keepers’ distant direction, ready to complete the first targets in their intertwined destinies.

-

anyways! that’s all I have so far. it might be kinda cringe but this au is legit one of my favs of any I’ve written from how interesting it is to me. I’m probably gonna update/make my better refs for all the important characters and post em :)

if you’ve gotten this far in this wall of text, thank for reading about this! it’s incomplete, but again thank you for giving it attention.

peace out 💜

[shadedrose01]

hi! can u pls do number 14 (in the angst section thing) on ur latest prompt post? maybe hurt/comfort or just whump if possible? thank u :D

If The World Was Ending (You'd Come Over, Right?)

A/N: you ask for whump and hurt/comfort, I give you whump and hurt/comfort hehe. Thanks for the prompt, anon, I hope you enjoy it!! :D ❤💖

Read it on ao3 here!

Based off of the prompt:

14. "Just get home as soon as possible, okay?!?"

~~

"Hey Pete." A sigh, low, quiet, sad. "I know I'm the- the last person you probably want to hear from right now and definitely the last one you want to talk to, but..." A pause, some shuffling in the background. "We're all worried about you, Peter. You left, and didn't tell anyone where you were going and-" Another sigh, similar to the first. "Just- call someone, please? It doesnt-" quiet, more subdued, "Doesn't have to be me, just- call Tony, or May, or somebody, let them know you're okay. That's all I ask." Another pause, longer and quieter than before, full of tension, empty words, broken promises. A puff of breath. "Come home as soon as possible, okay? I-... I love you."

A beep signaling the end of the message echoes in the larger, almost empty room, and Peter throws his arm over to press the end button before the robot lady can ask if he wants to listen to it again, or delete it, or whatever. He rubs away the stray, angry tears from his eyes, feeling his stomach clench with the swirl of intense emotions, feeling as it shrivels from the heat of his frustration, rocks from the waves of his sorrow, and bitterness and- and- god he doesnt even know.

Hes just... tired. Bone aching, soul crushingly tired. With everything. With his work load at school growing and growing everyday, spiraling out of his control. With Tony yelling at him in the lab, because he always messes something up. With Harley, who finds something to argue with him about every single day, the screaming matches getting louder and louder every night. With May, moving on with Happy and forgetting about him more and more, time and time again. With his friends, who always seem to be hanging out, but never with him, never inviting him anywhere anymore. With Spider-Man, and the way people seem to keep dying on his patrols, on his watch, because god, he cant even do that right. The one thing he thought he could do with his eyes closed, and he keeps fucking that up too.

And now, now he did the worst thing possible. Worse than fighting every night with someone he thought was the love of his life. Worse than getting scolded at his dream job everyday, by his mentor and father figure. Worse than being forgotten by the only mother he really remembers, by his friends that he grew up with.

He ran away. He broke down, freaked out, and ran. Stuffed as much clothes as he could find into a suitcase, called the first hotel away from the city he could think of, booked a suite for the night and took off without telling a soul. Not his boyfriend, not his mentor, not his aunt, not his friends. Nobody. Because he just couldnt take it anymore. He couldn't handle the constant fighting, the barrage of stress and anxiety a mountain high that he knew he couldn't climb, the loneliness, bitter and cold and empty that surrounded him, suffocated him even as he laid beside a warm body every night, and talked with people everyday. The piercing, heartwrenching thought that everyone he loved was going to leave, to break up with him, to get tired of him, to forget him, and he was going to be all alone.

So, instead of facing it and communicating about his fears like a normal, mature adult, he ran. Like a fucking coward. And, instead of relaxing him and giving him a chance to get away like he thought it would, it just made everything so much worse.

Now, he was stressing out even more, thinking about all the classwork he was missing, all the assignments piling up. Thinking about Tony, waiting for him to show up, trying not to panic when he doesn't, probably checking the monitor on his watch and his suit activity, to see where he had went. Thinking about his aunt, waiting for him to come bake with her like he had promised, and worrying when he doesnt show, because he always shows. Thinking about... Harley. Harley, coming home after a long day of schooling. Harley, noticing that Peter wasnt home, like he usually was. Harley, noticing that most of Peter's clothes were gone, his side of the room left in chaos. Harley, probably thinking the absolute worst.

Peter remembers the calls. The way his phone vibrating again and again as Harley called him over and over, leaving voicemails, telling him he was worried, telling him to call him back, that they could work it out, whatever it was, voice frantic, and then Tony, joining the mix an half an hour or so later, probably when Harley had fully begun to panic. But then, the silence. After about an hour of constant ringing (and Peter trying his hardest to ignore it), the calls suddenly stopped. Harley called one last time, ten minutes later, leaving one last voicemail, but after that... nothing. Pure, unfiltered, crushing silence.

After Peter had gotten to his hotel and broken down once more in the tiny, too clean room, he had listened to that voicemail on repeat, just to drown out his screaming thoughts that plagued his mind, just to listen to the ending again and again and again.

"I...I love you."

When was the last time they had said that to each other? Through text, maybe a few days or weeks ago, but in person? Peter couldn't remember. A while. Too long.

His escape was turning into a nightmare the longer he sat in this room, getting smaller and smaller, almost suffocating as the minutes turned to hours, as the day turned to night, and he couldn't take it anymore, he had to get out of here. Had to do something, go for a walk, clear his head, something, anything.

He basically jumps out of the hard, creaky bed, grabbing the card key had haphazardly thrown onto a table when he first walked in, and exiting the room, the building as soon as he physically could. He takes in a long, deep breath, feels the mid October air chill his lungs, giving a nice tingling sensation before he exhales, already feeling his muscles beginning to relax, his heart beginning to slow.

He looks left and right, before beginning his trek, feet crunching against frost with each step against the frozen concrete, the wind whistling against his red tipped ears, quiet, a whisper, definitely not enough to drown out his racing mind, his screaming thoughts, his growing anxiety creeping and wrapping around his neck like a noose, pulling tighter and tighter the more he thinks, the more he steps, the more he moves and breathes and functions. He takes another deep breath, trying to ward off another attack, another episode, but it doesnt work, the feeling getting worse and worse.

He feels a tingle at the back of his neck, sharp and harsh, but ignores it in favor of his breathing, trying to keep his lungs working as they should, trying to get oxygen to his overworking brain, to his stampedeing heart.

Rookie mistake.

He feels a prick on the side of his neck, and his instincts kick in before he does, his body flinching violently and whipping around, throwing a punch that sends the perpetrator flying back, hitting multiple bystanders before landing on his ass. Peter would've found it funny if there wasnt three others, surrounding him on all sides, grabbing at his arms, legs, torso, anywhere they could reach. And if he wasnt feeling so damn dizzy all of a sudden, the world spinning off its axis, vision doubling. He tries to fight back, tries to struggling, but his limbs feel like lead, his head feels fuzzy, and darkness envelops his vision before he can even blink.

--

Conciousness hits him like a ton of bricks, jerking him awake. As soon as his eyes are open, he's alert, on edge, wary, glancing around the unfamiliar room and trying to pinpoint where he is. It's a dark room, the walls, floor and ceiling all seemingly made of concrete, the only light shining through a sliver of a window near the roof on one of the walls. He must be underground, then, in what looks like some sort of basement, the room too small, and too familiar to be a warehouse or a base for an evil team somewhere. He notices a new more details, like a frayed rope on the ground, a table with some tools on it, and a few darker stains on the ground that Peter tries his best not to think too much about, and comes to some conclusions.

It's a one man job, definitely, not a group of people, and definitely not some well known group like Hydra. 'But there was more of them', he remembers, fuzzily, three men who had grabbed him once the sedative was given. What part do they have to play? Aside from that mystery, he also knows that they've done this before (from the stains that looks conspicuously like blood), and, the most terrifying fact of them all, that they know he's Spider-Man, the strong metallic cuffs that have to be vibranium holding him back, even as he tries with all his might to break through. He doesnt know how they found out, he's kept his identity pretty lock and key, but apparently they know somehow. So that's great, just perfect.

He doesn't know what he's going to do. His first thought is that he'll wait for Harley in his Iron Lad suit, or for the Avengers, or both to come save him, get him out of this mess, but then he remembers they can't. They don't know where he is, he never told them, so they wouldn't know where to look, where to start. They wouldn't even know he was kidnapped, much less know how to save him.

He feels his heart start to race, his chest start to squeeze, this throat start to close, before he forces himself to take a long, deep breath, shutting his eyes and calming himself down. Having a panic attack wont solve anything. He's alone in this, he needs to think clearly.

Okay, where to start, where to start? He needs an escape plan. He opens his eyes, and glances to the slim window, leaning forward and looking closer, seeing faint bars blocking the outside. Okay, so that's a no go for an exit, but what about the door? He looks to the old wooden door, the brown turning gray in its age, with a metal handle and a simple key lock. He could probably pick the lock, or break down the door if he couldnt. Good, now, he just needs to figure out how to get out of these cuffs-

Way too soon for Peter's liking, a loud click echoes in the room, and the door creaks open, a shorter, bigger man walks in, dressed head to toe in black and wearing a white anonymous looking mask. Cause that's not cliche at all. He feels a spike of anxiety either way, and swallows, wishing he had his mask on so he could hide a bit of the fear he knows he's expressing on his face (Harley always said he wore his heart on his sleeve, said it was one of the things he loves about him. Used to love about him anyways.)

"Good evening, Mr. Parker." The man says, voice low and rumbly, sounding pretty much exactly as Peter expected him to sound, surprisingly enough. Stereotypical villain smokes-three-packs-a-day kinda voice.

It's the greeting that causes Peter to snicker, grinning. "Ooo, so formal! You're like a James Bond kinda villain, I dig it! Yo, how do you like your drinks, shaken or-"

He's in the middle of doing his godawful impression when the man shoots forward and punches him across the face, and ow that hurt waaaay more than a punch should. He feels the burns of cuts on his face, the tingling of liquid running down his cheek, sees the brass knuckles reflect off of the sunlight through the window, and thinks 'huh, that makes sense.'

"Shut it, Spidey." He sneers, and Peter winces, his face scrunching up instinctually before he forces it to go blank. Sure, he knew that the man knew he was Spider-Man, but actually hearing him say it, hearing him confirm it sends a chill down his spine, cooling him from the inside out. He must've seen the flinch on Peter's face, because the man continues menacingly, starting a slow walk around Peter's chair. "Yeah, I know who you really are, Peter Parker. I've been watching you for a while now. Know about your wall climbing, your webs..." The man yanks at his handcuffs, making Peter's body crash back against the chair. Peter struggles to keep his face neutral as pain seares up his back, his neck, the back of his head. "Your super strength." He breathes into Peter's ear, before letting go, Peter slumping back against the cool metal, trying to look smaller than he really is. "I know it all, Mr. Parker."

Peter glares at him when he comes back into view, hoping his eyes dont give away his true emotions, dont give away how scared he really is. "That's really creepy, dude. Don't you know anything about personal space?" He gets another punch to the face for that, his teeth throbbing as a warm, metallic taste fills his mouth. He spits out the blood, the bright red a stark contrasting against the older stains on the concrete, and mutters "guess not" under his breath.

"Personal space." The man grumbles, before laughing bitterly, no taste of humor in the tone. "As if you know anything about that."

Peter's face scrunches up, and he tilts his head, feeling bitterness rise up this throat. "Sorry, I'm not following, how do I not know about that? I'm not the kidnapping people after stalking them. I dont even know who you are, dude." He braces for another hit, but it doesnt come, the man just chuckling harshly again.

"Oh no, you wouldn't." The man leans forward, mask almost pressing against Peter's face, and theres a line about 'again, personal space, man' on the tip of his tongue, but the words die and his head drops straight to hell as soon as the man finishes his sentence. "But your boyfriend would."

Harley... Harley's involved in this? How? Why? What did he do? His shock, his fear must show on his face because theres a hint of mirth, of amusement in the man's voice as he speaks. "Oh, the great and mighty Iron Lad, the hier to Iron Man, the savior of us all." His tone is bitter, mocking now, and Peter feels cold, colder than he's ever felt, icy cold horror freezing his heart, his lungs. "That's what everyone said. That's what everyone thought. That's what I thought." The man snorts, short and careless, bitter. "And then he killed my family."

"He would never." Peter spits out venomously before he can even think, his heart racing, aching. He wouldn't. Even if they were on bad terms, even if they were on a break, or whatever he could call what they were going through, he knew for a fact Harley would never hurt someone intentionally, especially not someone innocent.

"Oh, but he did." The man leans back, basically growling now, voice strained, crazy, beginning to pace back and forth. "He did, he killed her, he killed them, all of them. Crashed into our building, our house, our home, and he killed them all."

Peter just stares wordlessly, eyes wide, wracking his brain, trying to think of a time Harley crashed into a building. It was during a fight most likely, but Peter always remembers him in the air, on the ground, never getting hit, never-

Suddenly, a memory floods over him, and he swallows roughly, chest squeezing. "August 1st, 2024." He murmurs solemnly, quietly, and the man's head suddenly stops, head jerking to face Peter.

"You know." He wasnt a question, so Peter doesnt treat it as one, lost in the memory of Harley sobbing loudly against his shoulder, wailing that he had the window, that the wall had collapsed, that there was a woman, and a kid, and that he couldn't save them. It was the first time Harley had ever lost anyone, the first time Harley had watched someone die. It was one of the roughest nights they ever had.

"He tried to save them." He whispers instead, his heart aching at the reminder, at Harley's description ringing through his head. Of how he lifted the rubble off of the bodies. Of how he checked the mother first, finding no pulse. Of how the kid, the son, was still alive, but his legs, his body had been crushed. Of how Harley had tried to help, tried to save him. Of how the boy had coughed up blood, had wheezed, had looked Harley in the eye, his own full of fear and agony. Of how he had taken his last breath in Harley's arms, broken and beaten and bruised. It had taken Harley months, years to get over it, and he still couldnt look at the date without rushing to the bathroom to vomit. Peter shakes his head, shaking away the thoughts. "He tried. There wasn't anything he could do."

"He killed them." The man snarls, apparently not in the mood to listen to Peter's truth. "He murdered them, with his own two hands and-" he pauses, straightens, his voice going soft, quiet, eerily calm and collected when he says "And now, he's going to get what he deserves."

Peter can almost hear the maniacal grin on his face as he grabs Peter's chin and tilts it up, until Peter's eyes connect to the eye holes of the white, porcelain mask, covered only by a thin black mesh. "Because now, I'm gonna take away the thing he loves."

It's barely a whisper, what he says, but with his enhanced hearing, Peter hears it crystal clear, and he freezes, paralyzes, terrified. He yanks at the handcuffs again, and again, the cuffs getting tighter and tighter, cutting into him as he does, but not breaking, not freeing him, barely even moving-

The man walks over to the table, and grabs something Peter hadnt even seen earlier, his phone, and turns it on. "What's your password?"

It would be such an innocent question, if they werent in this situation. Someone someone, a friend usually, would ask carelessly, casually, something like "what's the wifi password?". Peter just narrows his eyes, and keeps his lips shut.

The man doesn't like that very much, as there's suddenly a very real pistol pointed at his forehead, coming out of seemingly nowhere, 'he hadnt even seen the gun, where the-' "Tell me, now."

He sounds serious, grave. Peter swallows a whimper threatening to escape, and gives it to him, making sure to keep his tone level, confident, firm, like he knows he'll be fine, like he knows hes going to get out of this, even though he feels the exact opposite. But he can't, won't let this man find that out, so he tries his best to act brave. To act like Spider-Man, even if he feels like cowardly Peter Parker. Man, he wishes he had his mask.

The man puts the code in, humming to himself as if this is normal, a regular routine act, before a loud ringing echoes in the room, and Peter's stomach drops. Of course he's going to call Harley. Of course he's going to make sure Harley knows what's happening to Peter.

Of course he's going to make Harley listen while he dies. Why wouldn't he? He wants revenge, revenge for something Harley didnt even do, and this how he's gonna get it.

Peter looks to the sky, swallowing roughly and blinking the tears out of his eyes, he's gotta be strong, gotta seem unaffected, gotta have hope. But that hope, that little light in his chest is dwindling more and more as the seconds pass, as the phone rings again and again, as horrible scenario after horrible scenario runs through his head, until-

"Hello?? Pete, are you there??" Peter cant help the silent sob that shutters his body, some of the tears in his eyes spilling down his cheeks as Harley's, his boyfriend, the love of his life, the one he thought he was going to get to marry one day's voice rings out in the cold, cold room, sounding almost breathless with relief and hope that it crushes Peter's already shattered heart even more. Theres so many things he wants to say,  so many words he wishes he could take back, so many he wishes he could say again and again, over and over until it was engraved into Harley's head, never moving, never wavering.

But before he can speak, the man speaks up for him, voice filled with a mock amusement. "Hmm, not quite. Mr. Parker's a little-" he chuckles, dark and ominous. "Tied up at the moment."

There's a pause, long and dwindling, full of palpable fear that causes a few more tears to slip from Peter's eyes, knowing, knowing how terrified Harley is, and when he speaks back up, voice low, shaky, angry, Peter knows he's right. "What have you done to him?"

"Oh, nothing." The man singsongs, grabbing underneath Peter's chin and forcing his head upwards, before brushing away his tears with a thumb. With anybody else, itd be a soothing gesture, an act of delicacy, of love, but all Peter can feel is disgust, bile rising in his throat, and he jerks his head of his his grip, glaring heatedly. The man drops his hand, and his body posture stiffens. "At least, not yet." He mutters harshly.

Another pause, and some shuffling, before Harley's voice cuts back in, sounding stronger this time, calmer, but it's an act, Peter can tell, Peter can always tell- "What do you want?"

"You can't give me what I want!" The man yells, suddenly slamming his fist into the table, Peter flinching from the loud bang that results from it. "I had everything I ever wanted, and you took it away from me! You took everything away from me!"

A puff of breath comes through the speaker, trembling. "I dont know what you're talking about-"

"You dont?" The man interrupts, breathing hard, harshly, before laughing manically as Peter starts to tug at the cuffs again, glancing around the room and trying, trying to think of a way out, of an escape route, of something, anything- "You don't remember? The night you killed my wife and son? Crushed them under the rubble of your mistakes?"

Harley makes a heartbroken, aching, painful noise, the sound reverberating as Peter shouts at the man, spits, "He didn't mean to! It was an accident!-"

The man whirls around and smacks Peter with his gun, hard, making his vision tunnel, the room spinning, his head suddenly pounding where it was only a light throb before. He grimaces, closes his eyes, grits his teeth with a wince, feels the hair on the side of his head grow wet and sticky with blood as he tries to settle this dizziness that's overwhelming him. "Shut up!!" The man roars, causing Peter to flinch again because its so loud, it's too much- "He killed my family! And now," Another laugh, the barrel of the gun now pressing against Peter's forehead, the cool of the metal seeping into his skin. Peter opens his eyes to stare at it, wide eyed and unfocused. "Now, he's going to listen as I take his."

Peter struggles even more, even though his limbs now feel like concrete, as the gun clicks, the safety coming off, the bullet lining up with the barrel, ready to shoot, ready to kill him-

"Wait!" Harley cries, his calm exterior deteriorating, leaving his true emotions on full show, the panic, the distress. "Please, your wife and son wouldn't want this-"

"You dont know that! You dont know anything!" The gun presses further into his forehead, finger laying on the trigger and suddenly, Peter is calm.

It's a strange, out of body calmness that washes over him like a wave, gentle, soothing. He stares up at the anonymous like mask, at the man wearing all black, and the faint sight of deranged eyes he can see through the black mesh of the eye holes, at the reflective gray of the pistol, and he feels calm. He's going to die, staring at this mask, this person, knowing that the love of his life, his soulmate is listening, and all he feels is an eerie calm, everything slowing down to a stop. He gives a faint smile, barely a twitch of his lips, before saying, loud enough so the phone can pick it up, "I love you."

He closes his eyes, and waits for the inevitable. He doesn't hear hear the sob like scream that Harley let's out, calling his name. He doesn't hear the door burst open, and three bodies rushing into the room. He doesnt hear the repulors and guns going off, killing the man almost instantly. He doesnt hear anything but his heart beat, pulsating in his ears, and a loud constant ringing, until the gun shifts against his head, until hands grab at his shoulders and shake him violently, until he opens his eyes and sees Harley's face two inches away from his, blue, ocean eyes wide with terror, mouth moving frantically, the one curl of hair always in front of his face flowing as his body jerks with his movements.

Then, suddenly, everything rushes back. The tsunami of emotions, of fear, of grief, of pain and hurt and 'god I'm so sorry' floods back over him. Sounds, Harley blabbering "Come on, Pete, answer me, please," in his ear, while others (he cant even tell who they are, can't even-) talking beside them, over the dead body of his captor, 'they got him, he's dead, I'm not dead, he's dead-'. His vision, blurry with tears he didnt even know he was shedding, spinning with the concussion he knows he has, going back and forth as Harley's actions get more frantic, more worried, his voice getting higher the longer Peter doesn't answer.

"Peter, baby, please say something, please be okay, please be-" Peter just leans forward and presses his lips to Harleys sloppily, almost missing from the dizziness still plaguing his mind, his thoughts, successfully shutting him up. Harley makes a strangled sound, before kissing back passionately, hands on either side of his face, salty tears pooling out of his eyes and into their mouths.

They pull away after a few moments, only for Harley to pull Peter to his chest, breathing out, chanting, "Oh thank God, thank you, thank you-" and Peter presses his face into his neck, feeling himself start to shake, to tremble as he slowly falls apart, wrapping his arms around his back and grasping onto the metal of his suit tightly, sobbing loudly. "I'm sorry, I didn't-"

"Shhhhh," Harley soothes shakily, rubbing a strong hand up and down his back. "It's okay, you're okay. Everything's okay."

Peter pushes through anyways, needing to say this, needing to- "I-I didnt- didnt mean to run away, I-I just- I need-needed to get away, and-"

"I know," Harley murmurs, cutting him off gently, "I know, baby, I know, it's okay." He sighs quietly, sounding sullen, guilty. "I'm sorry too. But it's okay. We're okay."

Peter nods shakily, hoping, believing him, squeezing his eyes shut and shuttering, curling more into Harley's chest. "I love you." He whimpers, "I love you, I love you so much."

"I love you too." Harley whispers back, pressing a light kiss to Peter's cheeks, carefully missing the bruises and cuts, pulling the trembling boy even closer. "So so much. Forever and always."

"Forever and always." Peter echoes, sniffling.

Things aren't perfect, Peter knows. He knows that they still have a long, long talk about everything that's happened, and that things arent going to click into place immediately. They may not for a while, but as long as they're here, safe, warm, alive and loved... Peter knows that they'll figure it out, together.

[darnloveablecharacters]

Prove Me Wrong, Part Twenty-Seven: Burned

Series Summary:  Caithwistë, born from the only known pairing of an elf and a dwarf has spent most of her life in hiding. When an old friend, (or a certain meddling wizard) finds her in the woods, everything changes. Now, she will have the chance to prove the world wrong about her value. A ‘The Hobbit’ fanfiction based off of the following imagines from @imaginexhobbit: This One is the basis of the story, and This One and This One will be added in later. If you recognize it, it belongs to Professor Tolkien or Peter Jackson. But, as usual, the story and all of the mistakes are my own!

Prove Me Wrong - Masterlist

Chapter Notes: Super excited to post this one! This means we’re just one step closer to the battle! *squeee*

Warnings for this Chapter: mentions of burns, mostly angst

Tagged: @imaginesreblogged @chevycastiel1967 @rices4me93 @tschrist1​ If you want to be added just let me know!

Caithwistë walked through a dark passage. It seemed as if an eternity had passed since she last visited this place in her dreams. Taking a deep breath, she pushed the heavy chamber doors open to find him there. He was turned away from her, but he was there nonetheless. “I did not expect to find you here, My King.” She said, breathing a sigh of relief.

Thorin raised his head at the sound of her voice, but still did not turn. She padded toward him slowly, reaching out to touch him. As soon as her fingers wrapped around his arm, she jerked her hand back harshly as pain coursed through her. She glanced down at her hand and gasped at the marks that were spreading. The contact had burned her. “Thorin?” She asked warily, holding her burned hand tightly to ward off the pain.

Thorin turned to her slowly and she let out a shaky breath at the sight of him. His eyes were not the familiar blue that she had known, instead, they burned like fire. Glowing brightly with life and somehow appearing dead at the same time. “You should be with me, by my side.” He said slowly. His voice had even changed. Every word came out as if it were a low growl, the voice of Smaug.

Caithwistë took a small step away, shaking her head as if it would rid her of the sight. “I do not understand.” She said weakly.

Thorin sneered at her. “You abandoned me, but all will be forgiven if you return now.” He said, holding his hand out to her.

Caithwistë regarded his outstretched hand for a moment, then took another step back. “Thorin, I did not abandon you. You sent me away.”

Thorin took swift steps in her direction, bearing down on her as he would an enemy. “Lies.” He growled. Caithwistë had not realized she was still moving away until her back hit a wall. She was more frightened of him now than she had ever been. Thorin’s eyes flashed down her quivering form and he scoffed, turning to move back to his original position. “It does not matter now.” He said, facing her again from the opposite side of the room. “You are mine, and I protect all that belongs to me.”

“This is wrong. This is not you. Thorin please, tell me what is happening to you!” Caithwistë pleaded.

Thorin smiled at her and spread his arms. “I am home. The wealth of Erebor is once again mine, and I will never lose it again.”

Caithwistë’s eyes flicked to the still open doors and back to Thorin, hoping he missed the movement. “You are unwell, Thorin. Please tell me how I can help you.” She said, taking a small step away from the wall.

Thorin frowned at her. “I am the wealthiest of all, but my Queen is not by my side. I only wish for what is mine to be returned to me.”

Caithwistë frowned at his words. “I am not a treasure to be hoarded. My heart does belong to you, but I know you would never speak to me in this way.” With that, she simply gave up her façade and began to walk toward the door.

“You will abandon me again?” Thorin asked from behind her.

She stopped at the door, turning to look at the beast disguised as Thorin that stood before her. “I will never truly abandon Thorin Oakenshield.” She said brusquely. As she turned to leave again, she saw another flash of fire in in front of her and screamed while Thorin laughed sinisterly behind her.

~

Caithwistë woke up gasping for air. As she attempted to catch her breath her eyes darted around, taking in her surroundings. She was still in the small room she had found after they reached Dale. The morning light was pouring in through the gaping hole that had been left from Smaug’s first attack. She was safe.

“It was only a dream.” She muttered to herself. She moved to stand but hissed when she placed her hand on the ground and it stung. Taking another shaky breath, she slowly turned her palm up to inspect it and let out a gasp. It was burned, with the same marks she had received in her dream. “Just a coincidence.” She told herself, shaking off her fear. She quickly grabbed a clean cloth and wrapped her hand then strode out of the room hoping for something to distract her. In a moment that came as both a relief and frustration, she walked out to the sight of Thranduil and his army waiting in the courtyard as carts of food filed into the town.

She approached just as Bard was addressing Thranduil. “You have saved us. I do not know how to thank you.”

Thranduil gave him a disinterested look. “Your gratitude is misplaced. I did not come on your behalf. I came to reclaim something of mine.”

Caithwistë scoffed. “Of course, you would only show when there is a benefit to you.”

Thranduil’s eyes snapped to her at her remark. “What is That doing here?” He asked with a grimace.

Caithwistë smirked. “Thranduil, how lovely to see you again now that the dragon has been slain and the danger has passed.” She said with a mock bow.

Thranduil’s hand moved to his blade but Bard stepped in between them, shooting Caithwistë a look of warning. “She is our guest; she helped our people during and after the attack.” He said, holding his hands up.

“So be it.” Thranduil said. He turned his great elk to his army and tilted his head toward the Mountain, silently commanding them to begin their march.

Bard shared a concerned glance with Caithwistë before they took off after Thranduil. “Wait!” Bard pleaded. “Please, wait! You will go to war over a handful of gems?” He demanded.

“The heirlooms of my people are not lightly forsaken.” Thranduil said in a bored tone.

Bard shook his head. “We are allies in this. My people also have claim upon the riches in that Mountain. Let me speak with Thorin.”

Thranduil gave him a sidelong glance, eyes flicking to Caithwistë before responding. “You would try to reason with the Dwarf.”

“To avoid war? Yes.” Bard stated calmly.

Thranduil stared him down, but Bard held his ground and Thranduil eventually waved his hand in a shooing gesture. “Have it your way then.”

Bard nodded and grabbed Caithwistë’s arm. “Come with me.” He whispered.

She nodded and began to follow him until Thranduil spoke again. “No. That will stay with me.”

Caithwistë huffed and turned back to him. “You do not command me.”

“No, but I do command the lives of all in this city now.” Thranduil retorted smugly.

Caithwistë frowned, knowing what he meant. He could easily take all that he had given back and would do it simply on a whim. “Go.” She muttered with frustration to Bard.

Bard hesitated, eyes moving between the two of them nervously. “Do you promise that she will not be harmed?” He asked Thranduil.

Thranduil looked as if the question had hurt him. “I give you my word.” He said, placing his hand over his heart. “We will simply watch together from the bridge.”

Bard looked as if he wished to protest but Caithwistë shook her head, urging him to drop it. Bard nodded at her and gave one last look to Thranduil before dashing toward the gate.

“Come, half-breed.” Thranduil said, riding his great elk forward. Caithwistë had to jog to keep up with its long strides but it did not take long for them to reach the bridge and they watched in silence for a few moments as Bard rode swiftly toward the Mountain. “Impressive, how you have fooled so many into trusting you.”

Caithwistë crossed her arms. “It is no trickery. It is simply the reward that comes for caring for something other than oneself.”

“Perhaps.” Thranduil mused. “Betrayal comes in many forms though. Tell me, do you believe that Thorin will hold to his word?”

Caithwistë flexed her burned hand as her mind wandered to her dream. The image bothered her, but she still held to the hope that it was nothing more than her own fear manifesting itself in the visions of her mind. “I trust Thorin.” She said firmly.

“Oh?” Thranduil asked, amused. “Then tell me half-breed, why are you not by his side?”

“That is none of you concern.” She snapped.

“He cast you away did he not?” Thranduil continued mercilessly. “He found out what you are and deemed you unworthy.”

“That is not what happened.” Caithwistë growled, clenching her uninjured fist.

Thranduil still continued, amused at her feeble attempt to hide the truth. “I wonder, what does it feel like to be cast away by those you love most?”

“I am not certain, where is your son?” Caithwistë asked bitterly.

Thranduil’s eyes snapped to her, the edge of anger beginning to show through his calm mask. “That is none of your concern.” He said, face falling back into disinterest. “Besides, the dragon slayer returns.”

Caithwistë glanced to the approaching man and frowned. He looked upset. “What happened Bard? What did Thorin say?” She asked fearfully.

“He will give us nothing.” Bard replied with a scowl.

“Such a pity.” Thranduil said cocking his head to the side. “But still you tried.”

Bard shook his head with frustration. “I do not understand. Why?” He asked, turning to Caithwistë. “Why would he risk war?”

Caithwistë just shook her head. “Thorin is honorable.” She said meekly, mind racing.

“It is fruitless to reason with them. They understand only one thing.” Thranduil said, drawing his sword. The sound made Caithwistë jump and she glanced between the pair fearfully.

Thranduil shot her a victorious smile and turned the Great Elk back to the city. “We attack at dawn. Are you with us?” He called out to Bard.

Bard looked back to Caithwistë and sighed. “I am sorry Miss. I know you care for them, but I don’t know what else I can do.”

“I understand Bard. You must do what you feel is right for your people.” Caithwistë replied grimly.

Bard nodded, equally as disturbed and guided his horse forward to the city to ready his men for battle.

~

Caithwistë had never felt so torn in her life. She watched with a grim detachment as the fishermen who had never wielded anything deadlier than a fishing pike practiced at swords.

“If it does come to war, we will spare the Dwarves if we can.” Bard said, stepping to her side. “We only wish for what was promised. We only want to survive.”

Caithwistë smiled. “I must admit, I simply appreciate that you did not imprison me for my attachment to the Company.”

“That would not do us any good.” Bard mused. “I don’t believe there is a place to lock you up here.” He said, giving Caithwistë a sidelong glance.

Caithwistë met his gaze and he smirked, making them both dissolve into a fit of laughter. It felt good to laugh, even though everything felt so wrong.

As their laughter died down, the sound of Alfrid’s voice rang out in the courtyard. “No, no, no!”

“What is it now?” Bard groaned, walking toward the commotion.

“Oi, you! Pointy hat!” Alfrid called again.

“Pointy hat?” Caithwistë asked no one in particular, excitedly moving to follow Bard.

“Yes, you. We don’t want no tramps, beggars nor vagabonds around here. We’ve got enough trouble without the likes of you. Off you go. On your horse.” Alfrid was saying.

“Who’s in charge here?” Came the unmistakable voice of Mithrandir. At the sound, Caithwistë quickened her pace.

“Who is asking?” Bard asked warily, stopping a few paces in front of her.

“Mithrandir!” Caithwistë cried when she saw him. She dashed around Bard and slammed into the wizard who let out an ‘oof’ as she hugged him fiercely.

“Caithwistë! It is so good to see you, My Dear.” He said with a chuckle. He pushed her away slightly to examine her. “And what on Earth has happened to your hand?”

Caithwistë glanced down at her wrapped hand and grimaced. “Dragon fire.” She said waving it nonchalantly. Mithrandir narrowed his eyes at her but chose to say nothing as she took him in as well. He looked as if he had been traveling for months without ever stopping. “Where have you been?” She asked him, furrowing her eyebrows.

Mithrandir looked uncomfortable, as he does when he intends to avoid a topic. “That is a story for later, right now we must speak with those in charge.”

Caithwistë rolled her eyes at the expected dodge, but motioned to Bard nonetheless. “That would be Bard here.” Bard nodded respectfully at his name.

“Mithrandir?” Bard asked holding his hand out.

“You may call me, Gandalf.” Mithrandir said with a smile, shaking the man’s hand. He glanced around then, noting the training men and elves. “I suppose this means Thranduil is here as well?” He asked both of them.

“Yes.” Caithwistë said through gritted teeth, jerking her head toward the well-lit tent the Elven King was residing in.

“Very well.” Mithrandir said, tone growing serious. “We all have much to discuss. Lead the way, My Lady.”

Caithwistë huffed but led Mithrandir and the dubious Bard toward Thranduil’s tent, wondering what the wizard could possibly be plotting now.

~

Caithwistë remained silent while Mithrandir pleaded with Thranduil to see reason. She could hardly believe herself that what he told them could be true. Sauron, the Lord of the Rings has returned and now an army of Orcs, bred for war, was on their way to the Mountain to claim it. “So much for staying out of the politics of the world.” She muttered quietly to herself. She remained in a daze until Mithrandir raised his voice.

“Since when has my council counted for so little? What do you think I’m trying to do?” He demanded.

“I think you’re trying to save your Dwarvish friends.” Thranduil replied with a disdainful glance to Caithwistë. “And I admire your loyalty to them. But it does not dissuade me from my cause.” He stood to his full height then and bore down on Mithrandir. “You started this, Mithrandir, you will forgive me if I finish it.” He said softly before turning to the tent opening. “Are the archers in position?” He asked the Elf standing guard.

“Yes, My Lord.” The Elf replied respectfully.

“Give the order. If anything moves on that Mountain, kill it. The Dwarves are out of time.” Thranduil commanded, and the Elf bowed before leaving to give the command.

“You cannot do this!” Caithwistë cried. She leapt toward him, but Mithrandir grabbed her and held her in place.

“I already have.” Thranduil replied smugly.

Caithwistë struggled against Mithrandir’s grip but he kept a firm hold on her. “You, bowman! Do you agree with this?” Mithrandir asked Bard, who looked as if he wished he could be anywhere else in this moment. “Is gold so important to you? Would you buy it with the blood of Dwarves?”

Bard regarded Caithwistë who was now watching him with glassy eyes while she struggled against the wizard. “It will not come to that.” He said, trying to reassure her. “This is a fight they cannot win.”

“That won’t stop them.” Bilbo said from behind them. Mithrandir was so shocked that he lost his grip on Caithwistë, but she was also frozen in place at Bilbo’s sudden appearance. “You think the Dwarves will surrender? They won’t. They will fight to the death to defend their own.”

“Bilbo Baggins!” Mithrandir exclaimed.

Bilbo glanced at him and gave him a toothy grin.

“Bilbo!” Caithwistë squealed, pulling him into a tight hug.

“Kili told me he had seen you in Lake Town.” Bilbo said with a chuckle as he hugged her back. He released her and gave her the same grin. “I am so relieved to see you alive.”

“If I’m not mistaken, this is the Halfling who stole the keys to my dungeons from under the nose of my guards.” Thranduil said, glaring at the poor Hobbit.

Caithwistë could not help but smile as Bilbo shuffled his feet. “Yes. Sorry about that.” He muttered bashfully. He stepped toward Thranduil cautiously, holding out a small package and placing it on the table between them. “I came to give you this.” He unwrapped the package and revealed a gem.

This was no ordinary gem though, and Caithwistë had never seen anything more beautiful. It was smoother than a river stone, and glowed brighter than the stars. Even more impressive were the colors that danced inside it, as if a rainbow had been captured and stored inside it for safe keeping. “The Arkenstone.” Caithwistë breathed in awe.

“The Heart of the Mountain. The King’s jewel.” Thranduil said with an equal reverence in his tone.

“And worth a king’s ransom.” Bard said thoughtfully as he stepped toward the table. He furrowed his eyebrows at it and glanced at Bilbo. “How is this yours to give?”

Bilbo bounced on the balls of his feet before he answered. “I took it as my fourteenth share of the treasure.” He said proudly.

“Why would you do this? You owe us no loyalty.” Bard asked him with suspicion.

“I’m not doing it for you.” Bilbo said with a shake of his head. “I know that Dwarves can be obstinate and pigheaded and difficult. And suspicious and secretive with the worst manners you can possibly imagine, but they are also brave and kind and loyal to a fault. I’ve grown very fond of them, and I would save them if I can. But Thorin values this stone above all else.” He said, shooting Caithwistë an apologetic glance to which she simply shrugged. “In exchange for its return, I believe he will give you what you were owed. There will be no need for war.” He concluded.

“Bilbo…” Caithwistë sighed. If Thorin finds out what he had done, there is no telling what he would do.

Thranduil shared an intrigued look with Bard before addressing them all. “Have it your way. We will use this to barter with.” He said gesturing to the Arkenstone and Bilbo breathed a sigh of relief.

They bowed respectfully and Caithwistë followed Mithrandir and Bilbo out of the tent.

“Rest up tonight, Bilbo. You must leave on the morrow.” Mithrandir said as they walked through the city.

“What?” Bilbo asked, surprised.

“Get as far away from here as possible.” Mithrandir continued.

Bilbo stopped in his tracks and looked at Caithwistë for help, but she could give him none. She agreed with Mithrandir. “I… I’m not leaving.” He stammered.

Mithrandir stopped as well and turned to the hobbit. “Oh?”

Bilbo nodded. “You picked me as the burglar. I’m not about to leave the Company now.”

Gandalf let out an exasperated sigh, shaking his head. “There is no Company, not anymore. And I don’t like to think what Thorin would do when he finds out what you’ve done.”

“I’m not afraid of Thorin.” Bilbo countered.

“Well, you should be. Don’t underestimate the evil of gold. Gold over which a serpent had long brooded. Dragon-sickness seeps into the hearts of all who come to this Mountain.” Mithrandir said ominously. He quirked his head to the side and smirked at Bilbo. “Almost all.”

Mithrandir turned and called Afrid to them, sharing hushed words with him.

Bilbo glanced at Caithwistë. “And you? Do you think I should leave as well?”

Caithwistë studied him for a moment, taking in the hobbit who had come so far in this journey and survived at times where it seemed impossible. “I cannot presume to make this choice for you Bilbo.” She began, and he frowned but Caithwistë put a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I can only say that I do not want you to be harmed and if that means running from here then yes, I do wish that for you.”

“And what about you?” Bilbo demanded. “Why do you get to stay, and I don’t.”

“I am a fighter. And… because this is the only place I have ever felt could be home.” She said with a sad smile. Bilbo considered that and dropped his gaze in defeat. Caithwistë glanced back to the wizard who was still speaking with Alfrid before stepping closer to Bilbo and whispering in his ear. “I know you will sneak out tonight anyway, just promise me that if you are in danger you get out of there.”

She leaned back and Bilbo smiled at her, giving a conspiratorial wink. “You have my word, Miss Caithwistë.”

Author’s Note: Okay, so I watched the movie Dodgeball shortly before I wrote this chapter and…. It actually took a lot for me to not have Caithwistë tell Thranduil to “cram it down your cramhole” lol.

[arigatouiris]

daughter of artemis // p.p — [06]

c h a p t e r  s i x

Pairing: Peter Parker x Demigod! Reader [Female pronouns]

Warnings: swearing; angst [a lot of it]; greek mythology rewritten [completely my interpretation of it, oops]; slightly based off the games god of war and assassin’s creed odyssey; hurt/comfort; cliche; fluff [on later chapters sometimes]; mentions of sex and gore; slight alternate universe

Follows events after Endgame, but Tony, Natasha, Steve, Loki are alive in this universe.

Author’s Note: Finally it’s post Endgame now! Peter makes an entrance in this chapter, and there’s a change in POV as well. Hope ya’ll like this! 

Word count: 4396

06 // φίλος friend

❅

Everything was strange. Peter never realized how much he valued being alive, until he saw Tony being quickly evacuated into a capsule to preserve his life. He had done it—snapped Thanos off the face of the universe; but almost at the cost of his own life. Peter thought he was dead, that was it, but when Pepper felt a faint pulse, they knew he was still there. Now, back on Earth, even if the doctors did say they were unsure, Peter knew one thing: Tony Stark had saved the world.

He felt strange, and not only did the world move without waiting for anyone who had been snapped five years ago, he had to pick up where he had left off. While the nurse cleaned his wounds, all he could ask about was Tony. If Tony is okay, if he’ll be fine, every question went unanswered, but it left Peter hoping. Tony was alive, and he damned well stay that way.

    “Peter,” came Pepper’s voice as she walked into his room. She smiled softly at him, and he thought he could offer one back, but to no avail. They were currently in what used to be the Stark tower, but rebuilding this whole almost destroyed piece of land would take an incredibly long time.

    “May’s back. I called the shelter. I’ve told her you’ll be coming to see her as soon as your wounds are cleaned.”

Peter stood up without thinking and rushed to the door, Pepper smiling a bit at the ground. Happy would be waiting for him at the front, ready to take him to where his aunt was. The last time he saw her was at the shelter, and he hoped and prayed things were alright now. He knew he should have felt happiness, but like he kept repeating in his mind, everything felt strange. He looked and felt like he was 18, but five years had passed.

He was quiet during the whole drive, Happy wasn’t even trying to engage in conversation.

    “The shelter’s fine, kid. I… I took care of it while you were gone.”

    “Thanks, Happy.” Peter’s voice was dry.

On reaching the shelter, his eyes welled up with tears. It looked the same, but there were new trees near the entrance he hadn’t seen before. His memory was fresh, and this ached his heart more than he thought it would. Walking inside, he came face to face with May’s back, as she was standing and reading something, two people near her.

    “M-May?” Peter’s voice broke, and he was a small boy again.

May turned around and her hand went to her mouth in surprise. Running to her nephew, she embraced him as tightly as she could, letting out breaths of relief and happiness at the sight of this boy. Peter hugged her back, as if his life depended on it, and he was starting to feel that happiness he thought he wasn’t going to feel.

It’s alright, he told himself, breathing in his aunt’s presence. It’s going to be okay, he could finally tell himself. Pulling back, he smiled at her, as she did the same, rubbing his face with her hands.

    “How is he?”

Somehow, Peter knew this question was about Tony. Nodding, Peter offered a small smile, indicating that things weren’t as bad as he thought would go. May’s relief calmed him. Suddenly, his eyes began to fill with tears, May pressed her lips together and waited. She knew what was coming, and she knew it had to come. Bursting into tears, Peter covered his eyes with his hand and cried—to cry was to release all sorts of ugly little pressures and tensions. Like waking out of a long, dark dream to a sun-filled day. And right then, he felt it leave his body; the pain, the sorrow. May was holding him, school would begin, he would go back to being Spiderman, Tony Stark was alive, and things were slowly going to get better.

That night, as he had dinner with May, she brought up the topic of school.

    “Midtown’s offering a whole different system of schooling from a month now. They’ve pushed reopening the school to mid-November now because of the kids returning.”

    “That makes sense.” Peter said, eating his rice as normally as he would have five years ago.

    “You’re in Senior year.” May grinned, tilting her head a bit.

Peter smiled back before focusing on his food. He found it funny that he had an appetite, but it wasn’t as if it was anything extraordinary. He felt as hungry as he normally would have on any weekend.

    “Peter,” he looked up to meet his aunt’s gaze. “Give it time.”

Smiling at her, he finished his meal and headed up to his room. He froze at the entrance; it felt as if he hadn’t left the room at all. Five years? He asked himself again, tears filling his eyes. He quickly rushed in and looked around his room; everything was in place, left in order. He had heard from Pepper that Happy kept this place the way it was, which proved that the man had hope that everyone would return.

However, he couldn’t sleep that night. Grabbing his suit, Peter quickly pressed the device to wear his suit, and webbed himself out of his room. Maybe this’ll take my mind off things, he thought swinging through buildings. It wasn’t that late out, and he could see people look at him with awe, and another emotion he couldn’t quite explain.

    “Welcome back, Peter.” Karen’s voice startled him.

    “Karen! Uh, is there something happening?”

    “People are at their homes, trying to figure out what’s really going on. Everyone’s back, and surprisingly, the crime rate is really low tonight. You can relax.”

    “Thanks, Karen.”

Swinging through buildings, Spiderman sucked in the air of Queens that night, letting the breeze heal his mind. As he passed a building, to his right he saw a girl on the terrace, with a bow and was trying to shoot a target. Blinking confusedly, Peter perched on the building opposite, and watched from above. What is she doing? He thought, It’s dark out, she can hurt herself!

Peter found it almost too easy to jump right behind her, but apparently it was a bad decision. The next thing he felt was the girl had roughly pushed him down and pinned him to the ground, his web shooter was kicked away, a few feet away from where he was being held. His eyes widened, which caused the eyes on his mask to widen, only to meet the girl’s surprised expression.

    “Spiderman?” Her voice was slightly familiar, but there was no mistaking it. He had seen her before.

She stepped back and pulled away, and Spiderman took a good long glance at her. Her (h/c) hair reached her shoulders, and waved around in the breeze; she was pretty, more than pretty, but there was something about her that screamed as if she was not from around here. She wore a black jacket, a white top inside, and black jeans. Strangely, she was barefoot.

    “Are you okay?” She asked again, cocking her eyebrow.

Standing up, Spiderman remembered her like it was yesterday. Because it was, he thought, unaware that a smile had crept on his lips.

    “You’re her.” He said, his voice in awe.

She blinked at him before offering him a smile, but it was a different sort of smile. She was teasing him.

    “I go by ‘her’, yes. Try not to make that assumption with everyone though.”

    “N-No! I meant, you’re the girl from the shelter. The one who—”

    “—also beat you to the ground the last time we met, did the same this time.” She chuckled, crossing her hands in front of her chest.

Peter couldn’t believe his eyes. She looked older, prettier, and not to mention, sassier. There she was, standing in front of him, after having pushed a superhero to the ground twice in a row. However, if she had grown up from the last time he had seen her, then that meant…

    “You… You’ve—”

    “I wasn’t turned to dust, if that’s what you’re saying.” She smirked.

Peter’s heart went out for her. It must have been lonely. “What about your family—”

Stepping one step closer to him, she looked up at him and said, “It’s very nice to see you again, Spiderman. This place has missed you.”

Peter’s heart warmed at her words. He remembered having saved her from getting too flustered in the middle of the road, and he remembered bringing her to his aunt’s shelter; she had changed so much in these five years, a battle he probably would never learn about. Hearing her say that this place missed Spiderman gave him the closure he needed.

    “I still don’t understand some of it, but… I’m glad I’m back. I’m glad everyone’s back, um…?”

She chuckled once before saying, “(y/n).”

    “You know who I am now at least.” Spiderman teased, remembering how she didn’t know him the last time they had met.

The girl turned to the target and then looked back at her bow, thus bringing Peter to ask her the question he had been meaning to ask her since he laid eyes on her the second time.

    “Why are you shooting arrows in the dark?”

(y/n) shrugged before pulling the arrow against the bow and just as she released it, “I can see better in the dark than most people.”

The arrow hit the mark, right at the center, stunning Peter in hindsight. He saw how she turned to the moon after that, a small smile on her features.

    “But, it’s not safe.” Spiderman said, sounding like a puppy.

    “What you’re doing isn’t safe either.”

    “But, I’m a superhero—”

    “What if I’m a demigod?” She said, smirking widely.

Peter deadpanned at her, but the mask just stared at her without expression.

    “Yeah, and I’m stronger than the Hulk. Come on, (y/n). Don’t joke around. You can really hurt yourself.”

For some reason, (y/n)’s laugh after what he said sounded as if she was hiding something. Choosing not to press more buttons, Spiderman folded his arms and waited for her to respond. There was no way he’d let her do something so stupid when he was around.

    “Alright, Spiderman. I’ll go home now. Go and save people or something.” She said, smiling back at him.

Laughing, the superhero gave her a thumbs up, waved her goodbye, and left the area. Peter left the area in two minutes, but he wouldn’t deny how he felt much better than he did when coming there.

❅

He wanted to laugh out loud, but he didn’t want to startle her. There she was, doing the same thing again, the next night. It was now as if she knew he’d come and stop her. Jumping right behind her, Spiderman tensed and waited to see if she’d try and pin him to the ground again.

    “Are you stalking me now, Spiderman?”

Standing up straight, “You train a lot for what exactly?”

She didn’t say anything, and shot another arrow. Moving to her right, Spiderman noticed her put down her bow and face him, offering a kind smile at him while doing so.

    “Friends call me Spidey.” He said, waiting for her answer.

    “So, I’m a friend now?” She asked, eyes widening a bit.

    “W-Well, yeah, I mean—”

    “Relax, I was just teasing.” (y/n) giggled before placing her bow on the ground. She walked over to the edge of the roof and sat down, letting her legs dangle at the side. Spiderman followed suite, and sat beside her.

    “So, you still didn’t tell me.”

(y/n) placed her hands on her lap and looked at them. “It takes my mind off things.”

    “Do these ‘things’ bother you a lot?”

The girl then looked up at the moon. It wasn’t in full today, a little less than full, but a smile came her way either way.

    “You like the moon?” Spiderman asked, without knowing.

    “Oh, yeah. I love the moon.” She said, almost as if the moon were a person.

    “Don’t you have any friends you can talk to about those ‘things’?” Spiderman asked.

    “Well, I’m sure you have things bothering you too, Spidey. You don’t talk about them to everyone, do you?” She hit the nail.

Turning away from her, he sighed. “I wish I could.”

    “It won’t help.” She said, shaking her head a bit.

    “You can talk to me.”

(y/n) smiled, her eyes turning small as she did. “Because I don’t know you? And sometimes it’s best to trust you because I don’t know you?”

Spiderman let out a laugh, “You remember very clearly my exact words. You must be a fan.”

    “I’m a fan of anyone who’s trying to do the good thing.” (y/n) said.

These meetings continued on most nights. Spiderman would often find her busy with either shooting arrows, or landing kicks and punches to a very tattered looking punching bag. Some nights, he doesn’t bother her. He knew she knew what she was doing, so he let her be. Other nights, he’d join her, and they’d talk. He’d tell her about Liz without ever mentioning her name, and she told him facts about animals he never really knew about.

She was so down to earth it was startling. Some nights, she looked vulnerable, like she needed a friend to sit by her side in comfortable silence. Other nights, she looked almost like a deity—the perfect balance of danger and charm, she was at the same time fascinating and inaccessible, distant because of her demonstrated flawlessness, and possessing such strength of character that she was dismaying and at the same time utterly attractive in an enticing and forbidden way.

Before he knew it, it was already mid-November. Which meant school would reopen, final year of his schooling, and he might not meet (y/n) on the rooftop again. Crime was slowly beginning to pick up, and with school starting, Queens would go back to being regular.

Regular meant crime would follow.

One night before school reopened, he spotted (y/n) sitting by the edge, all by herself. Jumping down to the roof, Peter sat beside her as Spiderman and waited to see if she wanted to talk. She was playing with her fingers, being absolutely comfortable with herself.

    “No training today?”

    “You’re late so you missed it.” She answered, looking ahead of her.

He was impressed with her in so many ways. She had never asked him once who he was, she had never asked him anything about what Spiderman does, or about a robbery; it was as if she wasn’t curious about him at all, and had no questions for him. It was in a way great that he didn’t have to deal with lying to her, but it was all too simple.

    “Aren’t you… curious about me?” Spiderman wasn’t intending on asking her this, but the words slipped out.

She looked at him and blinked, “Would you rather you lie to me?”

He couldn’t believe it. “So, you’re not asking because it’ll be hard for me?”

She shrugged, “People have their secrets, Spidey. We all do.”

Of course she did, Peter thought. She was training almost every single day for something or someone he had no idea about. And when he thought about it, she had never answered a single question about family or why she was training. She had her secrets, and this was the sole reason why she could respect that he had his.

    “So, when you first came here,” Spiderman began, “You were from some other place.”

    “Greece.” She said, nodding.

    “That’s so cool!”

    “Is it?” She asked, grinning amusingly.

    “It is, it’s an insane place. I’ve always wanted to go there.”

(y/n)’s smile almost died. I never want to go back, she thought.

    “I came here after my mother died. I came looking for my father. But, at some point, finding him became secondary. I train because I want to be strong.”

    “I’m sorry about your mother.” Peter’s voice was low. He of all people knew what death felt like. Having lost uncle Ben himself.

    “I too had someone who passed away. Right before I got these… powers, it killed me when I lost them. Ever since then, I knew I had to use these powers for good. And so, Spiderman was born.”

    “It is loss that pushes us to do better things.” She said, smiling at him.

Spiderman nodded. “My mother was everything to me. Ours was a… traditional joint family. No one else accepted me because my mother was a single mom and things didn’t exactly run that way where I come from. But she always made me feel so loved.” (y/n)’s voice broke at the end, Peter noticed.

A second later, he hugged her from the side, startling her. Her eyes were wide, and she remembered how her uncle had hugged her last. This was the first time in five years that she was being hugged. It felt nice. Once he pulled away, she offered him a kind smile.

    “You’re really a good guy, aren’t you?”

Spiderman scoffs, “I try to be.”

Looking away from her friend, (y/n) thought about school.

    “School starts from tomorrow.”

    “You don’t sound too excited.”

She laughed as she replied, “Nah. My classmates literally have labelled me the ‘mysterious exotic girl’. It freaks me out a little, honestly.”

She felt Spiderman’s hand on her shoulder as he said, “I hope you find good friends this year.”

Smiling at him made her recall the eyes of the brown eyed boy she had seen in her visions. She hadn’t had any visions of him these past few years, but whenever she thought of him, her heart felt warm. There was something utterly heartbreaking with the way he looks at her, each time she thinks of it, a part of her dies for not knowing.

❅

Walking into school felt familiar and strange to him, all at the same time. Not a familiar face in sight, as his heart raced in his chest, his stomach doing backflips with all the anticipation. However, just as he was about to head into what was supposed to be the senior class, a familiar face made him almost want to cry.

Ned’s surprised expression didn’t go past him, as Peter rushed to his best friend and embraced him. Thank goodness, he thought, holding onto his friend. Ned pulled away and smiled at Peter, who smiled back, a familiarity not being born again but only restarting.

It’s quite early for class to start, but there was already someone there. Peter stopped dead in his tracks, not a word of what Ned was saying reflected in his ear. His eyes widened at who was sitting there, and he forgot his own name.

But, he didn’t forget hers.

    “(y/n).”

Ned paused and looked at his best friend and followed his gaze to the girl sitting near the last bench, reading a book. She looked comfortable, and really really pretty in Ned’s eyes, but she also looked like she didn’t want to be disturbed. But, seeing that she had earphones on, Ned nodded to himself once and turned to his friend.

    “She can’t hear you, she’s got earphones on.”

Peter walked inside and sat down, surprised that she didn’t even look up from her book. He wanted to walk over to her and say hello, but that was the problem. He knew her as Spiderman and Peter had no idea who she was. There was nothing he could do.

A short while later, people poured in to class and for some strange reason, no one interacted with her. As Peter was watching her, a hand fell around his shoulder and a very annoying voice whispered in his ear. He was thankful that it wasn’t Flash.

    “That’s (y/n). She’s so mysterious and cold, dude. Don’t even try with her.” He said, teasingly.

Peter was annoyed. So this is what she meant, he thought in his head and snapped, “That’s because no one’s tried to get to know her.”

The boy blinked, “Oh, but people have. She’s just too intimidating.”

She’s nothing close to intimidating, Peter thought before turning to his books. For him, it felt as if he had read off a book just yesterday. It’s been five years, Peter, he thought before sighing. Once the first class was done, they were supposed to move in to the other. Luckily for him, the kids who were brought back from the snap shared all classes so that they could pick up what they had left off.

    “I sort of feel bad for her too.” Ned said, looking at the ground.

Peter didn’t say anything, and he didn’t know why. He could have told Ned that he was friends with her as Spiderman.

    “I have a great idea,” Ned said, grinning. “We should invite her over to build a new Lego Death Star—”

    “What if she doesn’t like Star Wars?” Peter asked, rolling his eyes.

    “Then we stop trying, I mean come on—”

    “Ned.” Peter scolded, fighting back a smile.

    “Just ask her!”

Walking to his locker, Ned and Peter both find her standing in front of her’s, reading the last few pages off a book. Peeking in closely, he read the title of the book ‘Leaves of Grass’. Ned ushered Peter to go to her and the secret superhero glared at him. Walking over to the girl, Peter cleared his throat before expecting to be blown away.

Her eyes widened when she met his gaze. Her jaw opened just a bit, almost as if she had seen him before, somewhere, a hint of familiarity sparked in her eyes; she knew the face she was seeing, it was quite obvious.

Peter freaked out. Oh my god, he thought, feeling his heart beat faster in his chest. What if she recognized me? Did she recognize me? How could she? There’s no way, right?

    “Uh, I’m uh… Parker. Peter. Ugh, Peter Parker.” Peter said, feeling stupid.

The girl instantly broke out a grin and replied, “Hi, Peter Parker.”

Peter stops talking and just looks at her, a soft smile on his lips as she cocks her eyebrow at him. Pressing her lips together, she folded her arms in front of her chest and waited. She was blinking at him, slowly, and his heart slowed down as well. He could spend hours looking at her the way she was looking at him.

    “Hi.” He said, slapping himself internally.

Giggling, she replied, “Hi.”

He could feel Ned hit himself on his forehead. “I’m (y/n).” She said after.

    “I know.” Peter said, smiling like an idiot.

He noticed her features stiffen and immediately regretted his answer. Putting his hands in front of him apologetically, “No, no! I meant, I mean—”

    “What’s up, Peter Parker?” She asked, tilting her head.

    “So, uh… Ned and I,” Peter gestured to Ned, who was behind him and waved at her—(y/n) sent a wave back, “We were wondering if you’d like to come build a Lego Death Star with us—”

    “I’m sorry, but I have no idea what that is.” She said, slightly wide eyed.

Peter stilled. “No way. Star Wars?”

(y/n) shook her head, chuckling. “Where I come from, we don’t really watch movies.”

    “Greece?” He asked, blinking.

    “Yep.” She said, popping the ‘p’.

    “No movies in Greece?” Ned suddenly asked, standing beside Peter.

    “Hi, Ned. I’m (y/n).”

Ned smiled a lovely smile at the girl.

    “And no, my family is very… traditional.”

Standing in silence for what felt like a minute, (y/n) picked up her book, closed her locker and grinned at them as she said, “Sorry boys, but I’ll have to pass this time. Maybe next time.” She looked at Peter, eyeing him funnily, and walked off.

    “She’s so dreamy.” Ned said, watching her leave.

❅

The very next day, there was a new English Literature teacher who was assigned to their homeroom. (y/n) couldn’t care less about who would teach her, no one compared to Athena or even her uncle, but he hadn’t shown himself around in quite a while. However, when this new teacher walked in, brown hair, strong jawline, thick framed glasses—anger surged in her veins.

What the hell is he doing here? She thought, glaring at her uncle who stood in front of the class. Suddenly, girls and a few boys began to whisper to themselves, hearing words like ‘hot’ and ‘cute’ being thrown around. She was certain her uncle heard everything the kids were saying, and she was not impressed. Sending him the ugliest glare she could conjure, (y/n) sat there. Apollo looked at her and immediately looked away, not wanting to reveal much at the moment.

Peter, on the other hand, noticed this exchange. He was sure it was because of his spider senses, but for some strange reason, (y/n) looked quite angry with the new professor, Alec Stavros. Turning back to the teacher, he probably wouldn’t want to ask her.

Just as class ended, Apollo raced out, (y/n) following quickly behind him. She caught up to him easily, however, despite his worry.

    “What are you doing here? And what is this? You’re wearing a disguise!” She hissed, frowning at her uncle.

Apollo grabbed her arm and turned her around. (y/n)’s eyes fell on the janitor at the far end of the corridor. Turning back to her uncle, she glared at him questioningly. Apollo kept still. Blinking, (y/n) turned around and spotted the janitor, doing his work, his back turned to them, but a symbol so familiar from her past was staring right back at her.

Her eyes widened as they landed on the symbol of a Hyena.

    “He doesn’t know what you look like. But, if he finds you, he won’t care if it’s public or inside a sheltered area. He will try to kill you.”

There was no fear in her heart. Only anticipation. As if wild dreams were beating inside her, (y/n) wanted to laugh to channel her rage. It had begun.

Smirking, she looked up at her uncle and said, “I’ve been waiting for five years. Let them try.”

❅

series taglist: 

Those I could not tag, I’ve added your urls here!

@maddie-laufeyson​, @mscoloneldanvers​, @https://dancing-flame.tumblr.com, @daughter-of-stark​, @spider-mendes​, @nerdyandproudofitsstuff​, @someonekeepstakingmyusernames​, @alina-margaret​, @yourwonderbelle​, @viarogers​​, @https://huangsushii.tumblr.com, @eridanuswave​ @oliviaisnotlistening​ @mizpotatobiscuits​ @editsbyjenny​ @abbieroseb​ @justtrynagetthroughlife​ @secretlittlewonders​​ @missmulti​ @shallowshawnshallowshawn.tumblr.com  @eunoiametonia​ @adistiany​ @justletmesleeptillidie​ @ppunderoos​ @myheartonthemove​ @heir2chaos​ @honeybutterparker @truthdaze @mvmakki @-thatgirloverthere- @growingthornz @freddies-fried-chicken @jinxedleo https://www.tumblr.com/dashboard/blog/wrongyuckie @gogoca 

[hpdabbles]

Jump On In

Sirius Black was going to die. He felt it the moment Bellatrix’s curse hit its mark. He felt his body falling backward from the force of her magic. Nothing was stopping him from falling through the Veil which will be the end. 

He only regretted one thing.

As his world tilted, his feet lifting from the floor his gaze went across the room and for one fleeting second locked with green horrified eyes. Oh, the mental scar this will leave on that poor child. 

He hated Bellatrix more for the pain that mental scar will bring then her being the reason he would cease to be a living man. After twelve long years, after crawling his way out of hell- both in the physical and mental sense- he still managed to fail those green eyes that had only a few weeks ago looked up to him with such bright adoration. 

I’m so sorry.  He thinks desperately wishing he could say the words quick enough. Or say anything at all. His body was paralyzed. I’m so sorry I promised you a family and then let you down. Please know I love you. Please be happy.

Once the green was out of his sight Sirius closes his eyes, not wanting to see it happen. Not wanting to watch himself fade. He was tried. Tired of being lock up,  he was tired of living in his childhood nightmare home, but most of all he is tired of being unable to protect someone he was entrusted.

The deep sorrow he was suddenly filled with isn’t new. Its something he often felt when thinking of James, of Remus and of what he lost that Halloween night but it burns none the less that it will be the last thing he will ever feel. 

Sirius never wanted a grand ravished life, it wasn’t his goal, but he had always dreamed of having a happy one. After he escaped Azkaban, there had been a small hope he would maybe re-build his life once he got the Rat, but that was a dream was quickly turn to dust the moment Peter escaped him again.

Now, he would forever be known as a murder, a man who betrayed his best friend and his godchild was still in grave danger. 

Once more, Sirius prove his worthlessness. 

Just as his shoulders began to touch the Veil something unexpected happened. 

For something did fall from the Veil but it was not something going into it, instead it was something coming out of it.

There was a scream, long, masculine and almost muffled before something else, or more accurate someone else crashed into Sirius’s body, this time from behind, lunching them both forward. 

They landed in heap on the floor, Sirius’ nose being pressed into the ground as the male who landed on him somehow had twisted mid-air and he was awkwardly lying across the Black’s back. 

The stranger let loose a string of colorful curses, his magic swirling aggressively around them and from where Sirius could get his pupils to glance at- the only part of his body he could move- sparks of magic bursts in bright red around them.

The rest of the room was too in shock to react, as the sparks fall glittering. to the ground.

Hell, even Bellatrix was stun by the turns of events, her hand still pose in the last spell she fired at Sirius.

“That’s the last time I let them convince me to come to this stupid department again.” The stranger mumbled rising. Sirius couldn’t see him but he did hear the sicking snap of bones and the man’s strain hiss of pain. “Now where the hell am -oh shit! Did I kill someone!?”

A foot jabs into his ribs, forcing Sirius onto his back. He looks up, into the face of a long past ghost. His skin pales, while his mind rebels at what he’s seeing even when it’s everything his heart ever wanted for the past decade. 

And Sirius couldn’t even say the ghost’s name.

“James”  Remus gasps for him, somewhere in the room, sounding both horrified and amaze as Sirius feels. “James is that..you?”

Sirius watches James- it’s James! He’s back, he’s alive! Sure he looks younger than what Sirius remembers but it’s him- twist his head to look in what he thinks is the werewolf’s direction but his head stops short on the way. 

Instead, his childhood best friend seems to have noticed a certain witch.

James’ face clouds over in cold hatred. His hand shoots down to his wand and he has it pointed at Bellatrix. “You”  

The next thing Sirius knows, a fight breaks out. The ceasefire of which James cause by his arrival apparently lifted and everyone went back to what they were doing. Which was trying to kill one another?

Sirius felt useless there on the ground, back against cold stone, with a green eye teenager hovering next to him, fighting off any of the Death Eaters that came near them. The young girl had made her way over once breaking from Remus’ shock slag hold.

Marlin, but his goddaughter is a fierce fighter when she wants to be. If only she didn’t need to, she’s just a kid. 'He’s the adult that should be doing the protecting!

“I’ll keep you safe Sirius! Just hold on. I’ll move you-”  Hyacinth shouts cutting herself off to scream “Expelliarmus!” in a direction then quickly aim her wand in another “Flipendo!”

“You killed my godfather!” James sneers somewhere in the room, further away now, his magic washing over everyone in a near suffocating wave that causes some of the fighters to stumble. “Prepare to die!” 

Desperately, Sirius tried to crane his eyes in the direction of the battle while hands grab him from under the armpits attempting to drag him to safety. There was a bright light of red and Bellatrix screams. 

James seems to have landed a hit, diving one of the most talented witches away. He is familiar with her favorite quick escape. Sirius bites back a smile when he hears James swear viciously about her getaway like he knew he would.

The Potter then turns his attention to the rest of the room and the remaining players.

Suddenly more spells, more flashes, and voices shoot as the chaos of battle rages on. Sirius misses most of it but eventually the Death Eaters all retreat and he can hear the relieved sigh of the winning side. They had won this battle but the war was far from over, in fact, this may as well be the beginning of it.

Sirius hates to think he’s going to have to live through another blood socked era but at least he will live. Would see his goddaughter grow. He is grateful for just that.

Then James is back staring at everyone, with a frown.

He doesn’t look worse for wear, even though there is a cut on his cheek bleeding and he still seems too young. Sirius tears up just looking at him, as the numb feeling in his limbs began to fade away.

He reaches a desperate hand towards him at the same time Remus rushes in for a hug. Everyone else tenses up, wary and unsure of what’s happening. 

They both pause when James points a wand at them.  “Alright, what kind of sick game is this? Showing me these faces, do you all want to die?”

“J-James?”  

His best friend’s face cools a few degrees, his lips press into a tight line. “Don’t call me that. Not while wearing his face. It hurt too much the first time he did it but now it’s just plain rude.”

It’s an expression that belongs more on a Slytherin than the fun-loving Lion he knew that makes Sirius take a deeper look at him and realize with a heart-crushing start.

His eyes were green. He was shorter. He was leaner. He had more soft curves.

This...was not James. But then, who was he?

“Dad?” Hyacinth whispers stepping forward, looking at the Not-James with wide hopeful eyes. Sirius almost kicks himself. He let her get around him! Hadn’t he just been thinking he needed to protect her!?

“Sorry, I’m not your dad. Name’s Harry Potter. Who are you? Why do you look like me?”

“Potter?” Hyacinth repeats straightening from the disappointed slouch she fell into.  “I’m Hyacinth Potter! Are we related?”

Harry closes his eyes as if pain and the Order move to stand protectively around Hyacinth. He may have fought with them, but that doesn’t mean he’s on their side especially if that’s his reaction to the Girl-Who-Lived.

No one is expecting him to curse Hyacinth’s boyfriend.  

“Dammit Ron, you just had to push me, didn’t you?”

When he opens them again Sirius suddenly thinks of Lily, after she caught the Manderlers doing something mischevious. Tired, fond and a bit put out upon.

“Alright, so my idiot best friend, Ron Weasley, anciently pushed me though the Veil while I was holding one of the Deathly Hollows. Based on what my other best friend Hermione Granger said, the Deathly Hollow should keep people alive when they fall through but not in their own world. She theorized that this could lead to an alternate dimension and we were studying the Veil to prove or disprove it.   Are you following me?”  Harry pauses to watch Hyacinth nod before carrying on.  “I guess you and I would be considered siblings? My parents are also James Potter and Lily Potter, so we are the same person but I’m from a dimension where I’m a boy, obviously. What’s different here? I may be able to find a way back home if I can figure out how different, and thus how far our dimensions are from one another.”

“Er, um, well, I’m a girl and, um, Ron’s my best friend but he’s also my boyfriend” Hyacinth scrambles to answer riling back from the amount of information Harry, her “older brother”, dump on her.  

Harry’s eyes widen then a brilliant smirk of triumph bloom on his face. It was such a James expression, Sirius almost cried. “You got Ronald Weasley as a lover? Good job. I’m still trying to bag mine, but it’s great to know one version of me succeded”

Hyacinth turns bright red but she looked oddly, please. Maybe since it was the first time someone congratulated her for her relationship.

“Who confessed to who? What was your first date? You must tell me everything.” Harry continues.

“I confessed first, towards the end of the second year, but our first official date wasn’t till the summer. He came to get me with his big brothers, Fred and George.” Hyacinth darn near swoons and Sirius makes a mental note to thank the red-heads again for rescuing her from her abusive aunt. “We went ice-skating and then-”

“Um excuse me?” Remus cuts in. “Are we really doing this? Now?”

Harry looks sad but shrugs. He tilts his chin at Hyacinth “We’ll continue this later.”

She doesn’t answer but a small smile stretches her cheeks as she bobs her head in turn.

“Right” Harry claps his hands.  “We best get this all straighten out. So who’s going to stun me so they can start the questioning? Oh please don’t look so surprised. I fought a war with you guys. I’m training to be an Auror right now too. I know how this works. Can’t trust me until you prove I’m honest. Let’s get this over with”

As soon as he says it, a spell hits him square in the chest. Harry drops like a bag of bricks.

“Remus!”

“What? He said to do it”

[unabashedly-here]

Summary: Y/N has been living on the streets for a few months now and finds a temporary home near a street market where pickpocketing is common practice. She might have contributed to the reputation as well, but she had to survive somehow. Peter Parker, once a nobody, is revealed as Spider-Man by Tony Stark and given a place on the Avengers. It was his dream come true, but being locked away in the Avengers Compound was not the fantasy he envisioned. After trying to sneak out, Peter finds himself angering a vendor in the street market where he catches the attention of Y/N.


Word Count: 2.1k


Warnings: swearing, threats.


masterlist // next chapter 


Like every morning, despite how the weather might have been, the streets became quieter as the people went inside. Well, quiet for a city. It is never truly quiet, after all. In the quieter parts of the city, the bustling streets changed into the quiet neighborhood it will most likely remain until the end of the day. Only a few people remained, like a woman walking her dog, cursing herself for going out without a proper jacket, a couple with a stroller, just glad that the baby has stopped crying, and the man fumbling with the papers in his briefcase before running down the street and hoping his boss will be in a good mood. Even then, they soon disappeared, leaving only you. You were dressed in a black coat that did not completely shield you from the cold, but you weren’t bothered.


You were far away from where you have been staying for the past few months. The night before, you started walking and didn’t look back once. It was quite cold, but you didn’t really care. Fumbling with the pack in your pocket, you managed to get the last cigarette out. Your lighter wasn’t as new as it once was, but the black lighter did its job. As well as providing a bit of warmth, the cigarette also managed to calm your shaking hands. Taking a few long drags, you smiled slightly and leaned back on the bench.


As you started the walk back to Greenwich, you realized just how quickly your last cigarette went. Looking at the butt in your hand, you remembered when your mother first found out that you smoked. It was after a party and you came home, not trying to hide the unmistakable scent at all. Her expression was unreadable, almost as if the smell transported her somewhere else. The disappointment in her voice wasn’t enough to get you to quit the habit, but it did make you perfect hiding that you smoked. Nothing made you quit, not even your mother’s death. 


Your hands started shaking slightly and you cursed yourself. The nicer neighborhood slowly shifted into the gritty neighborhood you knew and hated. Your cigarette butt was thrown on the ground, joining the many others littering the sidewalks. Maybe the taxes were supposed to keep the streets clean, but you didn’t pay taxes so why would you expect it? Shoving your hands in your pockets, you slouched your shoulders and kept your head down as you walked past the slightly more active part of the city. It was just not a nice activity, compared to where you found yourself this morning.


The street market seemed friendly enough if someone was a tourist, but the nice enough exterior hid what really went on. Stealing and pick pocketing were common occurrences in the market. A purse gone there or some food stolen there. Tourists who are not overly cautious normally leave the market with a few less things without ever knowing. You should know. You contributed to quite a few of these minor acts of thieving.


Most of the time, you stole food to live off of. Maybe you took some money when it was out in the open, but you rarely stole things like rings, watches, or phones from unsuspecting people. Stealing was your last resort to survive on your own, but you didn’t feel particularly hungry right then. The effects of smoking on an empty stomach might hit later and you couldn’t care less. Finally you stopped in front of an abandoned building. There used to be a For Sale sign, but it was long since kicked over. Anyone else might have been scared to entered the old factory with untold terrors and creaking floors. Checking to see that no one was noticing you, you ducked into the building through a hole that was covered on the inside by a piece of old cloth. 


You rarely spent the night inside unless it was too windy and you needed the walls to shield it. More likely, you were hanging out on the roof which gave you the perfect view of the shitty place you called home. Four months ago, your mother died in a car crash and, to escape being put into the foster system, you ran away. The two of you weren’t very well off financially and there wasn’t a lot of money to take before you left so you had to make do with what you had and learn to survive. Tears prickled in your eyes and you aggressively shoved them away. Living by yourself in an abandoned factory and stealing until you were eighteen and not legally considered a runaway. ‘Mom sure must be proud of me,’ you thought bitterly. 

A sound from the market place below interrupted your pity party. Curiously glancing over, you saw someone with their hood up getting pushed around. “Poor sucker,” you muttered to yourself, prepared to rest a bit after your night away. Whatever was happening down there was none of your business and the guy had to learn not to wander into bad areas if he couldn’t defend himself. The ruckus continued as you glanced one more time. Someone you vaguely knew had a grip on the guy and anyone from a mile away could see the threats coming from his mouth. There were oranges all over the floor and the guy had one in his hand. Debating with yourself, you shook your head and stated, “Fuck it.” 


While you found yourself in a nicer neighborhood early that morning, Peter Parker was planning his escape from the Avengers Compound. Ever since Tony Stark revealed to the world that he was Spider-Man, he had been trapped in the compound everyday with school work and training. Sure, it was cool, but Mr. Stark was very strict about letting Peter leave to visit his friends. He only really let him visit Aunt May and only when he was with him. Well, Ned managed to save up his money to get the Lego Millennium Falcon and wanted Peter to hang out for a bit. Mr. Stark said no, but Peter was determined. 


Karen helped him alter FRIDAY so that Mr. Stark would see him training for the next few hours. Not wanting to draw much attention, he packed his Spider-Man suit and went out in normal clothes. It took him a while to get into the city, but he managed after an hour. It had been a long time since Peter was in the city and, although he remembered most of the streets to go down, he thought he saw Happy further down the street. It must have been paranoia, yet he dared not to take any chances. 

He pulled his hood up and turned suddenly down a street. 
The street he went down was full of markets and he dared not look at the vendors in the eye. Peter was fully aware he was in a bad part of New York so he just had to get through quickly without drawing too much attention to himself. With his head down, he managed to get through most of the street. It wasn’t until a vendor noticed him and tried to stop him. Peter violently jerked in the other direction only to bump into another guy. The burly fellow merely shoved Peter away. His reflexes kicked in and he steadied himself. Peter caught his breath and took another step. 


A stand selling questionable looking fruit was in front of him, but Peter’s reflexes, which were still high wired from his little situation, saw that it was going to fall after a girl accidentally knocked into it. The oranges went everywhere, much to the vendor’s dismay. Peter managed to pick a few up quickly and walked closer to hand them over. The man looked at him with pure hatred and placed a meaty hand on Peter’s shoulders. “I wouldn’t run away, thief,” he threatened, “I’mma show you why people know not to steal from me.”


“No, sir,” Peter said meekly, trying to hand over the oranges, “I was just trying to help.” He would be able to easily get out of the man’s grip, yet the man would know something was up and Peter just wanted to get out with no issue. His nose crinkled at the man’s foul breath as he tried to smile, as if that would make the man trust him more.


“Oh, sure. People like you just want to “help”, do you?” His sarcasm was practically dripping from his voice. “Do you think I was born yesterday?”


Based on his nearly graying hair and the wrinkles around his eyes, Peter could have guessed. “Seriously, I don’t want trouble-”


The man scoffed, “Think I wanted this either?” His grip went down to Peter’s wrist and his beady eyes seemed focused. He wouldn’t try to break his arm, would he? He would heal, but then Mr. Stark would definitely know that Peter had snuck out. Before he could slip out of his grip, he heard someone very close. “Oh, there you are!”

 He turned to see a girl, seemingly his age. You were expertly dodging people as if you’ve had years of experience. You weren’t necessarily dirty, but Peter could only guess that your home, wherever it might be, wasn’t the best. Your clothes were worn down and smelled like smoke. 
However you might have looked, you seemed to be talking to Peter and you might just be his way out of this. “Uh, yeah!” he tried to say confidently, “Here I am!” 


Your eyes sparkled mischievously and you subtly winked at him before turning to the man, still gripping Peter’s wrist. “Axel, this is a complete misunderstanding!”


“Are you telling me that I’m stupid?” Axel growled, his hand tightening. “You better head out, Y/N. I have no problem with you, but, if you stay, I might.”


Peter worriedly looked at you. He didn’t want someone to get hurt for him. He had to use his powers even if that meant getting in trouble with Mr. Stark. Before he could do anything, he jumped when you grabbed his free hand. “I’m not saying you’re stupid,” you said calmly, “This is my cousin, Damon. He just doesn’t know how things are done here.” Looking around, your eyes met Axel’s in a knowing glance. “His father is a police officer. You don’t want the police here more often than they already are, do you?”


The fire in Axel’s eyes died quickly at the mention of police and he dropped Peter’s wrist as if it burned him. “Okay, just keep him out of here,” he tried to threaten the two of them. 


“Ah, don’t worry,” you reassured, “He won’t be around here much longer. Damon’s just here to pick something up.” With that, you led him away from Axel who began picking up the oranges and mumbling. Quickly, you dragged him to the edge of the street and took a side street to an abandoned factory. Turning back towards the boy you just helped, you noticed how, even though his fiddling hands and facial expressions suggested an awkward teenage boy, his body language was deliberate, as if he was aware of everything going around him. “That’s a main street,” you mentioned, gesturing to the street next to them, “You’ll be fine there. I wouldn’t come back.” Looking back into the vendors, you stated, “Axel holds grudges like no one you would believe.” 
The boy only nodded so you went towards your makeshift entrance. 

Checking to see if any police were passing by, you met the boy’s eyes. He seemed still surprised to be in this situation. The two of you stared at each other for a while until you realized just how tense he was. The boy was on edge and seemingly jumpy as hell. “Hey, it’s okay,” you tried to comfort him, “It’s over now.” With that, you went into the factory without looking back. You just wanted to plan for how you were going to eat later.


Peter looked back at the busy street and took a small step before looking back at where you just entered. Why were you hanging out in an abandoned factory? It seemed suspicious and Peter knew, that if he didn’t go inside to check out what was going on, it would be the only thing on his mind. He quickly sent a text to Ned, saying that he couldn’t make it, and moved the cloth out of his way. You were wrong, to say the least. It was far from over.