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writing-for-marvel · 3 years ago

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Why Are You Keeping Me Up?

Neighbour!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

< < PART 3 | Series Masterlist | {4.5} PART 5 > >

Summary: Your attractive neighbour struggles with letting you in.

Warnings: nightmares, violence - during a nightmare Bucky grabs reader and for a moment she struggles to breathe, but no one is injured, y’all this part is angsty, but it does have a happy ending, swearing, mentions of a shitty ex-boyfriend, steamy kiss, implied sex

Word count: 3.5k

A/N: this part is a lot longer than previous, but I needed the length to really delve into the angst and give a happy ending in this part - also, I know the titles are stupid, I just can’t help myself

Dividers by @maysdigitalarts

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From the night John made his brief reappearance in your life, it was no longer just you who comforted Bucky to sleep, he now had an excuse to stay over at your apartment each night, hold you close and remind you that if John tried anything like that again, Bucky would ensure he’d not live to see another sunrise.

He had even gone as far to buy and install new locks for your door just in case John had made a copy of his key from the time you were together. He was taking no chances when it came to your safety, which made your heart flutter with gratitude.

After that night, in which Bucky’s strong arms held you against his chest, placing a soft kiss to your hairline that didn’t go unnoticed even though you were on the brink of falling asleep, there was a change in the dynamic of your relationship - it was no longer I’m here to prevent you having nightmares, it had evolved into having you in my arms as we drift off to sleep is my favourite part of the day.

Granted, it had never progressed past cuddling in the same bed, the occasional forehead kiss when you thought the other were sleeping, and he couldn’t bring himself to reveal any information surrounding his previous nightmares, but you had never felt so safe and cared for in your entire life.

It had only taken James ‘Bucky’ Barnes three weeks from the day he moved in next door to steal your heart, and you were more than prepared to let him keep it.

But it was a night just over one week after the altercation with John that the perfectly happy bubble you and Bucky were living in popped.

The faint light of the full moon seeped through the window as Bucky started to stir in his sleep, the movement of his shoulders waking you as your head rested on his bare chest. His dissonant thrashes grew in severity as he started grunting and flexing the plates of his metal prosthetic.

“Bucky?” You asked in a sleepy daze, but your soft voice was unable to penetrate the merciless nightmare which was forming in front of your eyes. This was unfamiliar territory for you, every night you laid beside him he always slept peacefully.

“Buck.” You repeated his name, firmer this time, placing your hand on his shoulder, trying to shake him awake.

Before you had time to react, Bucky's left, metal arm had your own pinned across your chest. The weight of him now on top of you, pushing your arm painfully back into you, restricting the movement of your thorax, making it difficult to breathe. His eyes were now open, but glossed over, face expressionless, muttering words in a language you couldn’t understand.

“Bucky…” You tried to move underneath him, shove him backwards to provide your chest some room to expand, to take a deeper breath, but he was too strong for you to move solely with your upper body.

Kicking your legs, you managed to find a weak spot on the inside of his thigh, kneeing him with enough force that he recoiled for half a moment, long enough to strike him on the chest.

“Bucky!” Even in the almost pitch black room, you could see his consciousness invade his eyes at your scream, realisation at what he had been doing indisputably dawning on his features as his grip loosened completely.

You coughed and spluttered as you hopped out of bed, trying to draw as much oxygen into your lungs as possible.

“I’m fine, Buck. I’m okay.” You assured him before he could speak, turning on the room lights in some kind of effort to show him that you were indeed fine. With the new light in the room, you could now see the struggle playing out in his eyes, as if he wanted to be your source of comfort but was also too afraid to touch you at the same time.

“You need to leave.” Bucky demanded after a long period of silence as you caught your breath, although his voice lacked conviction.

“Leave? Bucky, I’m fine. I promise you, I’m perfectly fine.” You approached as he kneeled on the bed, hand reaching out to cup his face but he recoiled from your touch, breaking your heart more than the experience prior had.

“You need to go. You can’t stay here if I’m going to do that to you.” The lump which had formed in his throat while holding back tears was clear in his voice. Refusing to look you in the eye, he stood from the bed and walked into the living area.

“Don’t you think I should be the one to decide what is or isn’t enough for me to handle?” You argued, following him, only to speak to his strong, bare back. The scar tissue formed around his shoulder, a permanent reminder of his suffering.

“Do you not understand what I just did? I could have killed you, Y/N!” His voice shook with self-disgust as his fists clenched at his sides.

“You had a nightmare, that’s not your fault. And if you’re trying to push me away because you think I’m afraid of you, I’m not.” You tried reaching out to him again, but he evaded you. Still unable to look you in the eye, he walked up to and opened his front door, asking again for you to leave.

“What if John returns?” This was your last line of defence, knowing that if there was one weakness Bucky had, it was John posing a threat to you. “He’s the one I’m scared of.” Bucky’s eyes darkened as he seriously contemplated your words, and for a moment, when he took a large sigh, you truly thought he would relent.

“We’ve changed your locks and I’m right next door if he does choose to come back.”

“Bucky please don’t do this. I care about you, so much, more than I have been able to put into words these last few weeks. Please…” You couldn’t contain the tears slipping from the outer corners of your eyes at your admission. It was the first time either of you had verbally acknowledged that whatever was happening between the two of you meant more than just preventing nightmares.

He finally met your gaze, his expression difficult to read, but the conflict behind his eyes raging like a storm.

You had the strong urge to cup his face, crash your lips onto his and show him just how much he meant to you, when your words themselves clearly weren’t sufficient in helping him understand. You wanted to hold him, comfort him and repel every dreadful self loathing thought that dared enter his mind.

“You can’t be around me Y/N, it’s not safe.” And with an assured finality to his voice, he closed the door in your face.

You stood in disbelief, hand pressed against the door, staring at what moments ago had been Bucky but was now a solid wooden barrier that might as well have been made of 10-inch steel.

“Bucky, please.” You begged, only to be met with the sounds of locks snubbing and latches fastening, which was enough to tip you over the edge into a complete blubbering mess.

You didn’t sleep for the rest of the night. You couldn’t. Not only had Bucky’s strong arms become the security blanket you needed to fall asleep peacefully when you believed John could return wanting revenge for his broken nose, but simply the absence of his weight beside you, small snores and tendency to hog the covers meant you felt out of place in your own bed.

There wasn’t a peep from Bucky’s side of the shared apartment wall either. You speculated that he too was awake with a troubled mind, too tense to fall back to sleep. As horrible and selfish as it sounded, you hoped he was kept awake with the same discomfort you felt - because your mind didn’t want to contemplate that he could actually be sleeping peacefully without you, that he didn’t need you.

The next day as you hopped off the elevator and walked to your apartment, you checked to see if Bucky’s door was open. He would leave it unlocked for you so that you could enter once you had changed out of your work clothes for the day, before proceeding to spend the rest of the night together. Your heart sank when you found it locked, the handle moving up and down, but the hinges refusing to swing open.

“Bucky? Can you please let me in so we can talk?” You asked whilst knocking gently. You waited for a moment but there was no response. “We can listen to all the Jimmy Dorsey music you want. You know, I’ve been playing it for you so often my Spotify is now recommending other jazz music for me, completely messed with the perfectly tailored playlists I had created.” You let out a small chuckle which was only met with silence.

You knocked and called out his name again to no avail. Conceding defeat for that night, you took out your keys and entered your own apartment. You were so fatigued that you did manage to get some uneasy sleep that night, the type where you wake up feeling even more tired than before.

No noise came from the apartment beside you. In fact, it was so deadly quiet, you thought perhaps Bucky wasn’t in his apartment at all. However, that didn’t prevent you from knocking on his door the following day.

“Can you please give me a sign that you’re alright? I’m worried something’s happened. Do I need to report you as a missing person?” You were just about to give up on receiving any response when you heard the sound of a lock unfastening.

The door swung open fractionally, but the chain link lock only allowed the door to open a crack. One of Bucky’s dazzling blue eyes, which were distinctly his, along with stubble which may have been long enough to start calling a beard, peeked through the opening.

“I’m fine. Not missing. Can you please stop knocking.” You were so taken aback by the fact that he actually opened the door and responded to your question, you were stunned speechless. Before you could get a word out, your brain scrambling to find anything to say, the door closed again.

* * *

After an excruciating week, Friday finally came around, and you were plain exhausted. You probably didn’t have more than eight hours combined rest the entire week, and your resolve had worn thin not only by the horrible week at work, but also by not having seen Bucky.

There was a calmness you felt in his presence that couldn’t be replicated with anyone else, or even by yourself. You missed that feeling, the tranquillity which washed over you every time you saw his smiling face as you entered his apartment.

You longed to feel his strong arms wrap around you, the tingle of your skin as his leg touched yours under the blanket when you were watching a movie, hear his laugh as you tried to explain the meaning behind the new ten minute version of a Taylor Swift song which you were blasting on repeat, and the butterflies you felt in your stomach when you opened your eyes first thing in the morning to find that he was already awake, looking at you like he could wake up beside you for the rest of his life.

How could you let one man, whom you had only known for about a month, consume all your waking thoughts?

Thoughts that in the past week consisted of anxiety and worry for his well-being and if he would ever let you into his life again. The only piece of knowledge that was keeping you going at this point was that Bucky hadn’t had a nightmare all week - although you suspected that meant he also had a week filled with sleepless nights.

Your willpower diminished and lack of energy from having little rest all week, was topped off with despair as you heard the all too familiar groans and thrashing of sheets from Bucky’s apartment. Tears poured down your cheeks as his screams shook the walls.

You couldn’t even remember getting off your bed, but you found yourself banging on Bucky’s door, crying out his name in hopes that he would open the damn door. You could hear movement on the other side of it but you remained locked out.

“Bucky, I can’t do this anymore. It’s not even been a whole week and I can’t stand you pushing me away while you’re in there suffering.” You stopped knocking, turned around and slid down the door until you sat at its base, tears still flowing. “I care about you Buck, and it’s breaking my heart to be only an apartment apart, yet feeling a whole world away when I know I could be doing something to help you.”

You could hear his movements hault inside, and you could have sworn your heart stopped beating in that moment. He must have heard you, otherwise it was a very untimely pause. Throwing caution to the wind, you continued.

“I missed you Bucky. I missed everything about you. I missed waking up beside you, missed your smile and your laugh, missed your scowl when I turn on any type of music that’s not 40’s jazz, missed that embarrassed blush on your cheeks when you you aren’t sure how to cook something, missed that playfully agitated glint in your eye when I beat you in every board game, missed those shallow little breaths you take just as you’re about to fall asleep. I just missed you.” There was a long silence where you waited for a response - perhaps he missed you too? You waited in agony for his reply, that with every passing second seemed less and less likely to come. Just as you were about to stand, having given up, you finally heard his voice.

“Doll, move away from the door, I’m opening it.” Your heart soared with anticipation as you quickly stood, waiting impatiently for the door to swing open so you could find relief from your heavy sorrow in his eyes.

You couldn’t stop yourself, as soon as you saw his broken, tear filled eyes, you did the one thing you thought would comfort him, something you had waited weeks to do. Jumping into his arms, wrapping your arms around his neck, you kissed him.

Your lips connected with his soft, plump ones as your eyes fluttered shut. You clearly caught him by surprise as it took him a moment to recognise what to do before responding to the movement of your lips, but the kiss only lasted a brief moment before he pulled away.

“I’m sorry. God, that was stupid. You didn’t even say you felt the same.” You mentally cursed yourself, cheeks heating with embarrassment.

“I do.” He admitted shyly.

“You do?”

“Of course I do, which is why if something happened to you, if I seriously hurt you, I couldn’t live with myself.” The anguish was clear on his face, and you suspected he had been grappling with that thought the entire week.

“But you are hurting me, Buck. By pushing me away, you are hurting me.”

“Doll…” He let out a large sigh, his internal struggle evident on his face, in his teary eyes, biting the inside of his cheek as he wrestled with finding the right words.

“You don’t have to say anything, you don’t have to tell me about what you went through, or why you have nightmares, okay? Just please, please, let me be here for you.” You cupped his face in your hands, eyes desperate, treasuring the feeling of his soft skin against yours, something you had missed, craved, the past week.

“Y/N, what they did to me - it’s in my nature to hurt people.” He feebly tried to push you away, but you stood your ground.

“I don’t believe that for a second.” You responded without missing a beat, your words soft and sincere.

“You saw me with John, my first instinct was violence-”

“Bucky he grabbed me, if you weren’t there he could have done so much worse.” You were now wiping away tears which escaped his eyes, stopping their trajectory before they could reach his scratchy stubble.

“And then that night I was- I hurt you. My hands…” He looked down to his open palms, examining the skin and metal as if the atrocities he claimed to have done were permanently carved into them.

“Every nightmare I had prior to your… assistance wasn’t just a figment of my imagination - they were memories. Replaying every brutal act and violent deed as clear as day in my sleep. That night, when I- when I grabbed you, that was the first time I couldn’t place the memory. And that’s because it wasn’t a recollection, my brain showed me killing you. Then when I woke up, I was on top of you, actually hurting you.” His voice broke and his hands shot to the hair at the front of his head, firmly tugging on the strands as he let out a devastated weep.

“Shhh…” You hushed, pulling his head into the crook of your neck, fiddling with his fingers to loosen the vice-like grip on his hair. You weren’t sure how long he stayed sobbing into your shoulder for, as you rubbed circles along his back, his hands moving to grip tightly onto your shirt instead of his hair, but ultimately, he managed to stop crying.

“You said ‘what they did to you’, who is ‘they’?” You asked as he pulled away from you, sweeping the stray tears from his skin with your thumbs. His puffy, red-rimmed eyes met yours, the agony behind his slate blue irises shredding your heart. “You don’t have to tell me, Buck, it’s okay.”

“Once you know that part of my story, what they did, what I did, you won’t want to know me.” Nothing could have prepared you for how defeated his voice sounded in that moment. Your thumb ran over a thin, white scar just below his bottom lip.

“Yes I will.” You assured, holding back your own sob.

“When I say that it is the most horrific, violent, murderous past, I’m not joking. I’m not exaggerating, doll. The things they made me do… I don’t know if I can say them aloud.” His eyes brimmed with tears again, and you instinctively brushed your thumb over his cheekbone, a gesture to remind him you were right here.

“Bucky, you keep saying they did this to you, they made you do things, were you in control? Did you have any say or choice in what happened?” You asked, hoping you weren’t overstepping with the question.

“No.”

“Could you have left without them threatening your life?” He shook his head. “Then nothing you did, no matter how extreme, was your fault. You hear me? None of it.” He looked at you with a mixture of adoration and as if you were absolutely out of your mind. Maybe he couldn’t believe that you thought the world of him, but you had come to know his tender soul and knew categorically that he was no villain.

“But none of that changes the fact that I could seriously hurt you.” Bucky detailed, never once breaking the intense eye contact you reciprocated.

“You were not made for cruelty Bucky. You are one of the most compassionate people I’ve ever met.” You said, placing a tantalising kiss to the side of his sharp jaw. “How ‘bout you let me show you how you can use these hands for much more pleasurable activities?” You whispered, moving to kiss the other side of his jaw as you grabbed his wrists, helping him run his hands gently over the curves of your sides, down to rest on your hips. You looked back up into his yearning eyes, silently requesting permission to proceed. With a slight nod of his head, your hands left his to delicately cup his face, your lips lightly brushing over his.

What started out as a gentle, slow kiss quickly became a passionate, open mouthed make out session. This time Bucky was most definitely prepared for the show of affection, his hands gripping your hips as yours tangled in his hair, sliding his tongue into your mouth.

His smooth metal hand was cool on your skin as his hands slipped below your shirt. He pulled you down to straddle him as he sat on the couch, only breaking the fervent kiss to tug your shirt over your head.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” He remarked before kissing you again, but you were so eager to even the score in pulling his shirt off that the blissful feeling of his lips on yours only lasted a matter of moments.

“Bucky, please.” You moaned as his lips attached to your neck, sucking on your sweet spot.

“I missed you too, doll, so much.” He uttered against your skin which was hot under his touch, his hands running down your back as he laid you down on the couch.

“Show me.” If he missed you even a fraction of how much you missed him, you were in for the best night of your life.

{Part 4.5 > >} | Part 5 > >

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stficblog · 2 years ago

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Lucid Dreams part 4 (end)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Summary: Morpheus saves you from the kidnapper and you see sides of him that you’ve never seen before.

Warnings: Honestly nothing. I’m boring like that.

Word count: 1k

A/N: I hope this isn’t a disappointing ending for y’all T^T

You opened your eyes to a pitch-black room. Your head was still spinning, and your mouth was uncomfortably dry.

“Morpheus…” You croaked.

Instantly, you felt a shift in the air and heard the hiss of swirling sand just a few feet away from where you lay. A light flickered on above you, revealing none other than the King of Dreams, standing in the middle of the room. You now saw that you were lying on a mattress on the floor of a windowless basement. Wooden stairs along one wall led up to a door that was surely locked.

“Y/N!” You scrambled to your feet as Morpheus rushed toward you, crashing halfway in a tight embrace. “Come on,” he whispered into your hair, “let’s get you out of here.” Still dizzy from whatever drug was in your system, you had to hold on to his arm as he guided you up the stairs.

You were nearly to the top when the lock clicked above you and the door swung open. It was Jerry. He froze in the doorway, a look of bewilderment on his face.

“Who-”

Wordlessly, Morpheus flung a handful of sand into Jerry’s eyes, causing him to collapse like a ragdoll. There was a darkness in Morpheus’ eyes that you had never seen before. Nonetheless, he led you slowly up the stairs, making sure you didn’t lose your balance as you stepped over Jerry’s sleeping body.

“Wait,” you spluttered, “why is Jerry here? Was he trying to save me too??”

“No” said Morpheus, “he’s the reason you’re here.”

You stopped in your tracks, forcing Morpheus to stop as well. “What?” You thought you must have heard him wrong. There was no way that Jerry, of all people, would have done anything to harm you. “Say that again!”

Morpheus looked down at you with a pained expression. “Y/N,” he said gently, “Jerry drugged you. He was going to keep you locked up in his basement like-” He stopped suddenly, his eyes darkening again. “He is not a good man.”

You looked back at Jerry, lying in a heap on the floor. Then it clicked. “The dream. I told him to follow his dreams and the next day he said he was going to make things happen!” You turned to Morpheus, horrified. “I did this.”

Morpheus placed a soothing hand on your cheek. “No, he did this. It’s his fault, not yours.”

Tears welled up in your eyes. It was all too much. You were exhausted, lightheaded, and all you wanted was to go home and sleep. Seeing how overwhelmed you were, Morpheus swept you off your feet and into his arms. You couldn’t help but notice how effortlessly he carried you, as if you were weightless to him.

Sand swirled around you, obscuring the world for barely a second before it dissipated, revealing the living room of your apartment. By now your eyelids were becoming unbearably heavy. Morpheus walked straight to your bedroom, carefully laying you on the bed.

“Sleep,” he whispered, “I’ll take care of the rest.”

Morpheus went back to Jerry’s house to deliver his punishment: a nightmare in which he was locked in his own basement for a century. The dream would only last an hour to an outside observer, but in Jerry’s mind he felt every single minute of that century. He would be found days later by his neighbors, curled up in the corner of his basement with no sense of time or reality.

In your own apartment, you slept for just a few hours but woke up feeling as though you had slept for a week. Opening your eyes, you found Morpheus sitting on the floor by your bed with his back against the wall. His eyes were closed. For a moment, you just stared at him. Never in a million years would you expect to see the King of Dreams sitting on the floor.

You shifted to a more comfortable position, sighing contentedly. Immediately, the Endless straightened his posture, his eyes snapping open. “Sorry, did I wake you?” You asked in the middle of a yawn.

“I do not sleep.” Morpheus stood gracefully, placing a hand on the top of your head. “How are you feeling?”

“Good. Really good.” You sat up, taking his hand in both of yours. “What happened to Jerry?”

“He will not be a danger anymore, to you or anyone else.”

There was a moment of silence as you processed everything that had happened. Morpheus brought up his other hand to stroke your hair comfortingly. Finally, you looked up with a frown.

“What do you mean you don’t sleep?”

He blinked at you. “The Endless have no need for sleep.”

“But… don’t you get tired?”

Seeing the concern in your eyes, his expression softened. “Yes.” His voice was barely a whisper, as if he was afraid to admit such weakness.

You squeezed his hand before releasing it and scooting back to make space for him on the bed. He looked at you questioningly as you patted the space beside you. “Come. Rest.”

Morpheus hesitated. He was Dream of the Endless. He didn’t need rest; he had a realm to maintain. Duties to attend to. But… you were the one thing he had been shirking his responsibilities for, and not just because he was curious about your abilities as a lucid dreamer. He liked you. More than he would ever admit.

Making up his mind, Morpheus sighed and removed his coat and boots, willing them out of existence in the blink of an eye. You watched silently as he climbed onto the bed beside you. It was such a strange feeling to see the King of Dreams doing something so mundane. He looked so… ordinary.

You lay facing each other, foreheads pressed together. He allowed his legs to become tangled with yours, one hand clasped between yours while the other rested carefully on your waist. He looked at you through his eyelashes and you swore in that moment that he was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen.

“Thank you.”

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#dream of the endless #morpheus sandman #morpheus x reader #dream x reader #the sandman #netflix the sandman #the sandman fanfic #fic

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pastelwitchling · 3 years ago

Text

Alex and Michael talk about Deep Sky.

Alex rested his chin on the console, his lids heavy. He felt like he’d been here for minutes, for all the work he’d gotten done, but the sun had only been setting when he’d arrived at what was once the Project Shepherd bunker. Now the sky outside was pitch black, lit with stars.

He’d thought, since he’d spoken to Kyle days ago, that he’d been done looking for more answers. Then he found out about Max, and now he thought that if he just stared at these codes long enough, then the solution would present itself. It wasn’t working.

His eyes closed for no longer than two seconds when he heard the creak of the front door. He didn’t need to see to know who it was.

“Thought I’d find you here,” Michael said in lieu of a greeting.

“Were you looking for me?” Alex sat up, rubbing his eyes. “You could’ve called.”

“I tried,” he said, and pulled a chair up. “Wouldn’t answer.”

Alex’s brows furrowed and he patted down his pockets. His shoulders slumped. “Damn it, I must’ve left my phone back at the house.”

“Had me worried,” Michael said with a smirk. “The look on your face at the junkyard . . .” he tilted his head, narrowing his eyes. “I know your Captain America face anywhere.”

Alex rested his cheek on his palm. “My Captain America face?”

Michael seemed to hesitate, then he reached out and touched Alex’s jaw. His hand fell and he looked away. “When you’re planning to save everyone, whatever it takes.”

Alex huffed a weary laugh. “That’s flattering.”

Michael wasn’t smiling. “How long’s it been since you’ve slept?”

“Don’t worry,” he sighed. “I’m okay.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“Honestly?” he huffed. “I don’t even remember.” At Michael’s look, he chuckled. “Guerin, I’m okay.”

Michael leaned in. “I didn’t tell you so that you could fix it, Alex. I told you because . . .”

Alex softened. “I know, Guerin. I just can’t help but . . . think about the writings on the spaceship piece, and maybe they have an answer.” He swallowed, hesitant to mention it. “You know . . . if someone had an archive of this stuff . . . maybe someone who’s been around for a while –”

“No,” Michael cut him off edgily. “No, Alex. We already talked about this, you’re not letting Deep Sky recruit you.”

“Well, actually,” Alex reminded him, “we didn’t really talk. I just told you what Forrest told me, and you said –”

“Not a chance in hell!” he snapped.

“That.” He sighed. “How’re you so sure these are the bad guys? Forrest said –”

“Oh, Forrest said?” he scoffed. “Well, I feel better then.”

Alex leaned his head back, closing his eyes. “Who am I talking to?” he murmured. “I know you don’t like him, but –”

“No,” Michael argued. “I didn’t like him at the barn, when he kept undressing you with his eyes.”

Alex’s brows pinched, remembering Forrest’s cute little “Interesting historical footnote.” Was that what passed for mentally undressing someone these days?

“We’re way past disliking him, Alex.”

“He told me not to join, too.”

“Awesome,” Michael smirked bitterly. “The Nazi nerd does one thing right. Mark it down.”

“Forrest is a good man,” Alex defended. “The only thing he worried about was that I would get cut off from everyone, but –”

“Yeah, exactly,” Michael argued. “Didn’t we get enough of that when you enlisted? You said you were staying this time, Alex.” He swallowed, and when he spoke again, his voice was small. “You promised.”

“Guerin, I have no intention of leaving Roswell again, not while . . .” he trailed off, his gaze on Michael meaningful.

Something in Michael’s shoulders relaxed, his cheeks tinted pink. Alex looked away, his own cheeks warm.

It took him a second to remember what he was going to say, then he cleared his throat. “I just meant that if they really want to recruit me as badly as Forrest made it out to be, then I have conditions.”

Michael visibly swallowed. “Like what?”

Alex licked his lips nervously, then leaned his elbows on his knees and took Michael’s hands in his. “I don’t want to do this without you, Guerin. First my own father, then the military, then Project Shepherd . . .” he shook his head, “I’m sick of something always pulling me away. I don’t want to do it anymore.”

“Careful, Private,” Michael said slowly, eyes narrowed as a cautious smirk smile tugged at his lips. “This is starting to sound like a proposal.”

Alex squeezed Michael’s hands once more, watched as false amusement revealed hope and fear of that hope underneath, and let go. He and Michael sat there facing each other for a while in silence.

“I want you with me on this,” Alex confessed quietly. “I’ve done so much alone, and I’m tired.” He shook his head. “But I can’t let it go. I know you didn’t want me to fix things, but this could. Not just for you and Max and Isobel. For me, and – and Kyle, and Rosa . . . it could fix everything.”

Michael said nothing a moment, then he heaved a sigh and put his boots up on the opposite desk. “Well, hell, you know I’m in.” At Alex’s look, he smirked. “Oh I don’t care about Valenti, and Ortecho is the other Ortecho’s problem.” His smile dimmed, and something fierce and protective settled in his eyes. “But you . . . I’d do anything for you. Anything. So if you really want me with you, Alex, I’m with you.”

Alex clenched his jaw and his eyes burned. He swallowed the lump in his throat and huffed a relieved chuckle, his body sagging in his chair.

“Thank God,” he breathed, and Michael, startled, laughed.

Y’all, the spontaneity of this fic, you wouldn’t believe it...

#alex manes #michael guerin #malex #malex fic #malex fanfic #malex fanfiction #roswell new mexico #roswell nm #malex angst #malex fluff #tyler blackburn #michael vlamis

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bonny-kookoo · 4 years ago

Text

Bunny Boy (JJK x Reader)☁️⚠️🔪(💜)🔞 Part 1

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Angst, Yandere!AU, Stalker!AU, questionable romance, smut, Oneshot

Warnings: (oh boy) Stalking, Obsession, Yandere themes, cute Koo but aggressive, he ready to fight, graphic description of violence, blood, very twisted JK, oblivious! Reader, kinda Stockholm-syndrome Reader?, soft romantic lovemaking, body worship, Dom! Jungkook, Sub! Reader, Handjob (fem. receiving), oral (fem. receiving), protected sex because even with your mind scrambled up in a frying pan we still wrap it before tapping it y’all hear me STDs ain’t cute Susan

Summary: It all started with a hello kitty charm.

A/N:(IMPORTANT) I’d like to note here that I do not condone nor romanticize any of the things depicted in this. This is purely fictional, and only to be seen as a work of art, not as a depiction of real life relationships. For short: if he a creep, kick his balls, don’t kiss. Thank you.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part?

Whenever you slept, he had to think of an angel portrayed in an old painting displayed in a museum he'd seen when he had been a kid, years ago. He remembers its features, flawless and so carefully drawn that it edged on perfection. It couldn't have been however, he knew that much. Because the painting wasn't of you.

The sheets had fallen all over the place during the night- you sometimes moved during your period of unconsciousness he'd noticed, which wasn't unusual for you. It had been more often and severe these days however; probably because of the stress you experienced at work nowadays. It was okay though, he though to himself. He'd taken care of that for you, just so you could finally rest in peace again. Just like he'd decided almost a year ago.

"You lost this, I think.." A voice spoke behind you, as you turned around, eyes looking straight at some american writing on a black t-shirt, then a jean-jacket thrown over, until your eyes raised, spotting a silver chain necklace- not one of those large ones guys wore to impress, but a rather delicate looking one. Your eyes found soft looking lips, the upper one smaller than the lower, slightly parted like a doll frozen in time, before you saw a prominent nose, a slight scar on his cheek, and eyes wide open; a dark chocolate brown, reflecting the artificial lights of the grocery store, shining all around you as they tried to advertise several products to the people browsing the isles. His hair was a bit curly, dark and only mildly styled you assumed. He stood way taller than you did, the main reason you had first made eye contact with his chest rather than his face-

He was handsome.

You stuttered a bit as you looked at the hello kitty charm, a simple one you'd hung on your phonecase, for the aesthetic and sole reason that you liked the cat character a lot. "T-Thanks.." You said, and your voice made his eyes widen even further, before he flashed you a bright smile, bunny like teeth giving him a charm that completely contradicted his entire punk-like attire he wore, combat boots stepping back a bit to give you a bit more space, sensing how his close presence made you feel pressured.

What a nice gesture.

"Jungkook." He said, and you nodded, giving him your name as an exchange.

Unknowing where this would lead.

His phone chimed with the familiar tune of his alarm, making him simply tap away at the screen without breaking eye contact with you. This was his favorite moment of the start of his day.

You moved around a bit more, the screen of your phone bright and annoying, just how you intended it to be. He knew that you were quite the sleepyhead, cherishing your dreams and cozy blankets like no other around him he knew. That's why your phone had an extra obnoxious tune to it to wake you up, screen as bright as possible to drown the entire room in its glow, so you had to move around. Your eyes opened slightly, pout ever so endearingly present on your lips as you sat up, raising your arms to stretch them above, making him swallow his saliva as he saw how your shirt raised up, revealing the soft skin of your belly, and the slight peak of your cotton underwear. He loved how you always put comfort over visual appearance- you didn't need fancy clothing to look absolutely divine in his eyes, after all.

He had to remember his task at hand however, grabbing his phone with a bit of hectic, before he dialed a number, waiting until your screen lit up. You instantly took on the call, not looking at who's calling.

Did you know it was him? Or is were you so careless all the time?

"Goo'mornin' Kookie.." You drawled into your phone, and his entire previous thoughts flew out his window, his eyes closing at the sound of your slightly raspy voice, his nerves instantly soothed at the fact that for another day he'd managed to become the first person you would talk to.

"Good morning angel." He said, voice low and smooth, just how you always told him you liked it. He watched as the corners of your lips turned upwards, a smile only dedicated to him, even if he technically wasn't supposed to see it. It made it the more special to see. "Did you sleep well?" He asked, and you nodded. Silly girl he thought. You noticed your mistake before sleepily giggling to yourself, yawning before answering him verbally. He cooed at you internally. You were so cute.

"Hmhm. Had a bad dream though." You said, and his heart clenched at the way your lips lowered a bit with the remembrance of whatever had happened during your slumber. He wished he could invade your very thoughts, keep even your own demons tormenting your precious time of rest at bay, kill them off with a shot straight to their cores, just to have you safe. "but you were there 'n fought the monsters." You said with a smile, and his eyes widened. Maybe he really was invading your thoughts just like you did with his. Was your connection really already that strong? He watched the clock on the very corner of his laptop, keeping an eye on the time. He didn't want you to be late, after all.

"That's right, I'm always keeping you safe." He hummed, and you sleepily replied with a confirmation of his statement. "Now get ready, or you're gonna be late baby." He said, the nicknames still foreign yet oh so sweet on his tongue whenever he said them. He could finally speak them out loud, finally give them to you regularly, and it had been a firework of emotions ever since. He could never get tired of the way it made you squirm, giving him a teaser of what you could look like underneath him, bare and ready for his taking. Just the thought alone made his pants tighten around him, making him force composure down his throat- at least for the moment. "I know you're still in bed. Go and get dressed, don't make your coworkers wait. Love you angel." He said, and waited for you to say the same words to him again, as a form of farewell and confirmation alike.

"Hmhm, love you too, Kook." You said, and disconnected the call, giving him finally freedom to groan out loud, hands scrambling with his pants, fingers working on the button and fly with desperation as he pulled his half hard length out of his underwear, moving his fingers around as his eyes never left your form on his screen, bare legs softly walking up to your dresser. As you discarded your shirt, leaving you bare, his grasp tightened a bit, air coming out in gasps as you stretched yourself so deliciously like a feline did- your back arching enticingly, breasts on full display for him, before you started to bend down, looking for something to cover them, probably.

His mind started to come up with visions of you, arching your back underneath him like that, speared on his cock, mewling alluringly, delicate hands frantically searching for something to hold onto as he would push himself inside you again and again, your name falling from your lips in a manner he couldn't even imagine yet.

Would your voice raise in pitch? Would you only huff, gasping without a tune? Or were you a screamer?

He didn't know yet, but he knew he was close to making these mere dreams a reality with you. He'd finally managed to show you his love for you after all, finally making you see how you belonged to him and him only- you had finally accepted him and your destiny at his side. When he'd first met you, you were so sweet yet so.. dumb. You didn't notice, didn't feel the connection- but he was patient. He was able to wait, to hint you at it the best he could, to softly lead you into his awaiting arms, to serve you and worship you like the goddess you were. You had started to finally connect the obvious strings of fate to him, kissing his lips in such a shy manner that he still felt his veins buzz from the euphoria he'd felt that day.

The day he got kissed by an angel, by his soulmate, his other missing part.

He spied on you as you worked away, busy like a bee, ever so hardworking he thought. You didn't deserve to work at all in his opinion, your hands too delicate to be endangered by maybe scolding yourself on hot water or coffee that you made every day for absolute strangers or regular costumers; yet you were so happy at your job that he had to be gentle at slowly showing you that this wasn't where you were supposed to be. The amount of people looking at you every day made bile rise in his throat, making him feel like vomiting every time he saw the way you smiled at another man.

It was even with woman, he'd noticed recently. He didn't care much about the elderly, but he could sometimes spot girls your age eyeing you down like you were a rare diamond behind glass, admiring you like they shouldn't be allowed to. He understood them to an extend, he'd admit that much; your visuals were magical, absolutely breathtaking, making him almost sympathize with the people being drawn towards you. Your soul was so soft and gentle that people naturally felt comfortable around you- too comfortable, if anyone would ask Jungkook himself for his opinion on that matter.

Just like right now; the guy you once went to school with as he'd found out after photographing his face and running a google search on him, finding his facebook and other social media accounts on his hunt. He hadn't really tried to stay in contact with you after you both graduated, dating girls left and right like he was a 12-year old collecting pokemon cards, posting disgusting things such as post workout pictures, bathing in attention of strangers who'd never really met him. It was disgusting, really; Jungkook himself had given himself away to others before as well, but his counter was standing at a number easily displayed on one hand. With this guy however, that was way more difficult to portray. He'd collected information on his past affairs as well, after all. He wondered what you would say if you knew he even slept with men in his freetime, selling himself like a whore just for animalistic pleasures and his own satisfaction. He almost felt himself gag at the thought of you possibly falling into this man's trap.

Thank the heavens he'd found you first.

He saw how uncomfortable you felt around that guy however, even your naive self sensing something malicious behind his attention seeking behavior towards you. He'd overheard you telling him multiple times how happy you were with Jungkook, yet the guy simple did not take the hint, speaking over your words as if they didn't hold any significance at all, uncaring of how you hated not being taken seriously by others.

How nauseating.

Jungkook looked at the passenger seat next to him, cold eyes gazing at the silvery tape and plastic bag, his glove clothed hands gripping the steering wheel in determination as he turned his face again, patiently waiting as that demon payed for his coffee, finally leaving the cafe after sending you another look. Jungkook cracked his neck. He had to do it.

He was doing it for you.

You'd understand.

Seoul's nights were mostly starless, due to the amounts of artificial lights blending out the galaxies above everyone's head's. It was quite tragic to him, really, because as he watched the colourfully lit up Bridge blend into the distance behind him as he drove further and further away from the city, the nightsky above him got clearer and clearer, as if the earth was revealing itself with every kilometer he brought between himself and the buzzing citylife.

He'd bring you out to a trip far away one day. Maybe camping, you always told him how you found these things quite romantic- roasting marshmallows over a small fire, stargazing, and sleeping in each others arms to converse heat in stuffy sleeping bags. Oh, he loved this already. He'd work a little overtime at his job to get enough money together so he could maybe even rent a small van. Or would his small car suffice for you? Maybe it was better to use the smaller space of his own vehicle- the less space meaning being closer to you, after all.

As he opened his window a bit, he breathed in the almost icy air from the outside, not much sound heard apart from his car's engine and wheels on the road, monotonous sound making him feel less concentrated than he should be. But he knew these roads, thankfully. Luckily for him the air inside his car was waking him up a little bit, as he turned around a corner, Jungkook clicked his tongue in annoyance as he felt something on the backseat of his car tumble down behind the seats. Hopefully the bag didn't rip. He had a spare one with him though.

He was organized, after all.

It was something that you always praised about him, making his chest feel all warm and fuzzy inside. He loved whenever you told him how handsome he was, how you always felt so appreciated whenever he held the door for you or helped you with simply mundane things. He didn't care about anyone else's comments about him; when you were happy with him, he was happy with himself as well. Your opinion of him mattered most- everyone else's only served as a safety cushion if you will.

He knew you would probably feel a bit upset with the tragedy that befell your former classmate- but he was insignificant. He had no good intentions, he knew that much, and now, he'd ridden the world of such a nuisance, cleansing it from another rotting soul. In a way he felt like he'd done a great job, as if he'd done something important. If ghosts existed, Jungkook hoped that this young man's was thankful for finally being freed of it's miserable existence. Even though he have had all the rights to make him suffer, he'd made it quick and simple, keeping things clean and sharply cut.

Pulling on the parking break in his car, he shut down the engine, before he opened his car door, stepping outside and stretching his arms. He'd definitely pulled a muscle carrying this dudes body into his car- the weight much more heavy than he'd initially thought. But that would pass. Maybe it was his punishment for not acting sooner, not getting things done immediately. His dad had always slapped that part of his neck too whenever he messed things up. He still remembered that to this day.

The memory made him shudder.

Sighing, he opened the door to the backseats, part of the plastic-wrapped body falling a bit out, making Jungkook huff a bit in frustration. He pulled on it, assuming it was his head, letting the weight fall down onto the ground, a low thud and a bit of dust covering his black sweatpants and combat boots.

He'd clean them up at home.

Heaving the body onto his back as to not rip the well made covering, he began to collect rocks nearby, stuffing them into the bag carefully, adding weight as much as he could, while still making it possible for him to shove the body over the banisters placed on the edge of the cliffs before finally securing more tape around the bag to make sure the rocks couldn't simply tumble out and leave their destined place inside. Jungkooks gaze was still cold, icy, as he finished his work with an almost bored expression, finally hefting the heavy weight over the metal bars, before he let it fall with a groan on his side, Neck still hurting. He watched as the body hit the water's surface, white splatters shooting in circle formations around the bullet-like hole in the waves before the darkness swallowed it whole, leaving nothing behind but a few air bubbles.

Jungkook took a deep breath, watching for a moment before turning his gaze to the stars above, clouds slowly shielding the nightsky from his vision as if the heavens above closed their eyes- not looking at his actions.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, making him remove his black glove, unlocking it with his fingerprint skillfully, smile already on his lips. 'I'm gonna be done in half an hour. Do you wanna get some late night Ramen with me and eat it at my place?' you wrote, silly emojis making him imagine the pink hue on your cheeks as you wrote these lines to him.

Now that he thought about it, he was quite hungry.

"Jungkookie, here!" You said, waving at him as he spotted you, bunny grin sent your war as he walked over, immediately pulling you into his open arms, his nose nuzzling your neck as if he needed to claim you like an animal. It tickled you a bit and you giggled, making him chuckle as well as he kissed your cheek, before he took your hand into his, walking you to his car as he looked at the plastic bags in your hand.

"Why did you buy them yourself angel? You could've waited and I could've payed." He whined, and you scoffed a bit, blushing at the way he seemed to be pouty over the fact that he couldn't be all gentlemanly like he always said he wanted to. Having told him how it made you feel so special inside whenever he did these things, he made sure to do them for you as much as possible. He shuddered at the fact that you'd once told him that your ex boyfriend never did these things such as holding the door for you or help you grocery shopping. The same night however you thankfully told him that you were still pure; having never been touched intimately before, a piece of information that had made his pants tighten embarrassingly fast, the simple revelation that you were still untainted and his for the taking making him feel starved. Yet he had controlled himself, not wanting to rush things. You were a bit skittish, easily overwhelmed with things, so he knew not to push anything too fast too far.

Loosing you could be fatal for the both of you, after all.

"Ah, but its fine Kookie." You said, thanking him after he'd opened the car door for you, closing it after you had gotten inside the passenger seat after you with a smile. Jungkook really was a special guy; he seemed to cherish the old ways of courting a girl- something that had made him be seen as a 'softie' in your group of friends, the girls constantly making fun of the way he acted around you. It made you feel more and more upset the more time went by; after all you really loved Jungkook and the way he made you feel. You both were happy- why did they need to make fun of that?

"Angel?" He asked, and you snapped your head towards him, humming an answer and proving to him that you weren't paying any attention. His eyebrows furrowed a bit, and for a split second you thought he was mad, but his voice didn't hold any bad feelings at all- only slight concern. "Is everything okay? If you're tired I can drive you home-" He said, stopping at a red light and using that moment to look at you. You didn't look physically sick to him, yet your face told him how something was bothering you inside. He'd studied your features for longer than he'd like to admit, making it impossible for you to hide anything from him at all. "Or is something troubling you?" He said lowly, his eyes suddenly fogging over with a look you could not quite describe.

It made your spine tingle and your skin shudder, however.

"I just.." You said, trying to figure out what to say concerning this topic. Jungkook was emotionally very easily affected, you knew that; something that made it even more difficult to bring that topic up. You didn't want to hurt his pride or his ego concerning his manliness. "The girls at work they uhm.. they were making fun of you a little bit for being so, you know, soft and sweet to me-" you said, making him raise his brows and open his eyes more, his innocent doe-look returning into his face as he looked forwards to continue driving. You immediately raised your voice a bit, hand instinctively touching the one not on the steering wheel as a form of confirmation for your next words. "But I don't think that at all, I think you're really nice, and strong, and you know, manly and all that.." you said, ears slowly turning red as you noticed how that sounded. Jungkook simply smiled, his eyes reflecting the traffic lights like mirrors.

It made him seem almost ethereal to you.

"So you think I'm hot?" He asked, and you sunk down in your seat, fiddling with your fingers as you nodded, making him giggle a bit, and ruffle your hair playfully, before interlacing his fingers with yours, holding them towards his lips to kiss the back of your hand. "Thank you Angel. So that's what you were worried about? That I'd feel hurt by the words of your friends?" He asked, glancing your way for a split second before looking forward again. He wished he could look both ways at the same time; the short image he'd gotten of your form so shy and adorable sitting right next to him looking like a scene out of a movie he'd never stop watching. You nodded again, and he parked in front of your apartment complex, grinning your way as he turned off the engine. "You're so sweet, angel." He said, while you whined, opening the door to escape his laughter-

While failing to wipe your own smile off of your lips, uncaring on how his car had smelled a bit weird.

You were still so oblivious to everything around you.

When he'd left after your last dinner together, you'd again refused to let him drive you to work. You had a split shift during the week, working in the mornings for a few hours before continuing your shift later that evening. It made him feel uneasy knowing that you had to get out of the house so early, and coming home so late at night- yet you still trusted your own driving skills enough to not let him help you with these things. He knew this was okay, but it didn't make the fact less frustrating for him.

He needed to keep your trust. He needed you to be scared of things. He needed to keep you needing him.

The only way to do that would be to show you what could happen when you didn't trust his judgement enough. He knew that you were just so fast at giving away important things such as trust to others; even to yourself. Yet Jungkook knew that he knew better- he knew best what was the best for you.

Even better than yourself.

He knew it would hurt, but you would understand. In the end, he was only showing you what would happen if you didn’t listen, if you didn’t trust him, didn’t do what he said- he needed you to feel your mistake, needed you to get scarred so you would always remember to stay at his side loyal like a dog, never to leave his sight ever again. He thought about this dream like vision, your hand in his, desperately seeking his attention, as his oil stained hands cut through the proper cables underneath your admittedly old car.

He never liked you driving by yourself anyways.

You were still so innocent, so stupidly oblivious to the dirt underneath everyone’s fingernails around you that it made his blood boil. But that was okay. Angels were naive creatures, he knew that. He would teach you how disgusting the world was to untainted beings like you, and afterwards he would keep you safe, keep your hand in his at all times, so no one could ever touch you again and blemish your skin. No one but him was allowed to corrupt you, to feel you, to have you lay in his arms as he filled you up and became one with your physical form at night.

And also;

Who said that you would ever find out that he was at fault?

"The breaks aren't working Jungkook, what am I supposed to do?!" You sobbed through the speaker of his phone, the one which he held calmly in his hand, his own vehicle parked at the sidelines of a road a bit further down your typical route, waiting. "I can't slow down- I'm so scared Jungkook what should I do-!" You whimpered again, and he closed his eyes for a moment, praying to the heavens above that they would forgive him for hurting one of their most precious fallen doves. But it was for the greater good- they'd understand, he was sure of it.

"Don't worry angel, you're gonna be okay-!" He said acting as if he was hurrying as well, even though he was still sitting peacefully inside his car, watching as the sun slowly turned the skies into twilight shades. Quite beautiful, really. "Can you slow down, somehow?!" He said, his voice cracking a bit as he got into his role, your voice telling him that you couldn't- the only way would be to drive into the woods and maybe try and crash the car. "Angel no, there's gotta be another way-" He sobbed, as he suddenly heard the line go silent.

He sniffled a bit, drying his eyes with the sleeve of his sweater, before he turned on his car, his phone showing the location of yours just a few meters away from him.

And there you were.

You car was a wreck, yet it seemed like it took most of the blow- you had actually taken the wood-option, using the bushes, foliage and brushwood as a form of emergency break before hitting a tree, which had split a bit from the impact, mushing your car against it like a piece of gum onto the underside of a shoe.

He carefully got out of his car, walking up to the drivers side, opening the door with a bit of difficulty- but he'd always loved working out, so in the end, his strength succeeded in opening the bent metal. He immediately caught your falling body, his heart breaking at the small cut over your eye, marks on your bare shoulder from where the seatbelt had pulled on your skin too roughly. Your arm looked like it was swollen, your leg bent in a direction it naturally wasn't supposed to as he pulled you out of the wreck, laying you down onto his lap as he sat down on the grassy ground, softly brushing the hairs away that had formed groups of single hairs stuck together by the blood that was already clogging and turning a bit darker. Oh how his soul hurt seeing you like this.

But this had needed to happen.

And as he called the ambulance with his phone, careful to sound as desperate as possible over the line, he failed to notice how your eyes weren't fully closed.

You were still conscious.

#bts #bts imagine #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts smut #jungkook #jungkook imagine #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #bts reactions #bts yandere #bts yandere au #yandere jeon jungkook #yandere jungkook #yandere bts

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midknight-hour · 3 years ago

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y’all remember this

bc i was bored and couldn’t sleep last night so i made a littol drabble. it’s not much and i’ll probably actually work on a story at some point but i thought i’d share to the riddlebat stans <3

btw this is literally a mash up of any canon i enjoy <333333333333 it’s my fanfic and i get to choose the backstory and ships

— — — — — —

It wasn’t often that Edward was allowed to watch television at home. His father would kill him if he even saw him near the thing, of course. He couldn’t be trusted with such expensive items with his lack of sense. Though it seemed as though everyone in the city was currently tuned into the news… all because their royal family had been slain.

It had dominated the public sphere since the moment the press caught news of the killings. Martha and Thomas Wayne, Gotham’s saviors, had been gunned down in a back alley in front of their own son. It was a tragedy, though clearly one the news was choosing to sensationalize for their own gain.

Or at least that was what Ed had surmised.

He’d been following the story intently, sneaking into the living room late at night to watch the news as his father slept on the couch. The ceremonies and court hearings. The crime itself, and the manhunt that went on without any sort of breakthrough for days. The media treated it like some sort of twisted crime thriller, or a mystery novel. No sympathy, just unabashed curiosity. No stone was left unturned as they pried into the personal lives and final days of the deceased.

The funeral was mostly attended by cameras and anchormen, the young Wayne boy sitting in front beside the old butler of the house. It was a replay, obviously. The midday sun, barely visible behind the dull rain clouds, a stark contrast to the pitch black night he was currently enveloped in.

The procession was grim, the burial quiet, but that was all that the bereaved were allowed before the storm of questioning began.

“Bruce Wayne! Over here!”

“Mr. Wayne! A word, please!”

“Sir- Sir! Are you the legal guardian of the boy? I’d like to speak with him.”

The older man seemed to be attempting to guard Bruce from the onslaught of camera flashes and clamoring voices, but there wasn’t much he could do as they began the treacherous walk back to the limousine. It made Edward feel sick. He couldn’t imagine how he would have felt if things had been so hectic on the day of his mother’s burial. Though perhaps his own father had been enough of a spectacle to make up for it. Either way, he felt a deep connection to the other boy, even through the screen.

The Wayne boy was still being cornered by the hounds, each question being barked somehow worse than the last.

“Who are you wearing?” “Do you have any family coming to the manor to claim you?” “Bruce Wayne! How are you feeling about your inheritance? How much did your parents leave you?”

“Please…. Just leave me alone.”

Edward’s blood ran cold.

“I just want to go home.”

No. It can’t be.

“Get out of the way!” The boy snapped, his sadness morphing in anger at the frothing crowds. And just like that, he was whisked away by a police officer to his vehicle to avoid any further confrontation. And the clip ended.

Now, one would expect Edward to be feeling nauseous simply due of the exploitation of someone his age at such a vulnerable time. Which he was, partly. It was despicable. But it wasn’t the main reason he felt like throwing up as he stumbled back to his room and slammed the door behind him.

He locked himself in his bedroom, ignoring the sounds of his waking father down the hall. Then he fumbled with the edges of his shirt as he pulled it up and over his head, reading the dark lines embedded in his skin, across his chest just like it had always been.

“Please, just leave me alone.”

After years of his life assuming his soulmate would be rightfully disgusted by him in their meeting moments…

“I just want to go home.”

— — —

Bruce was a drastically a different person then he had been in his youth.

As he stood vigilant in his superhero’s fortress, which Alfred had lovingly nicknamed his “bat cave,” he thought back to that day in the cemetery. The way his anger had suddenly surged, like a wave. Over the years he had learned to aim his anger and vengeful spirit at something more productive, starting out with the task of finding his parents’ killer. Though when that didn’t pan out, he found it in himself to instead focus on the public good. To prevent others from feeling that same pain he still held in his heart. But unsurprisingly enough, that made him a lot of enemies.

He had been on the case of a rather curious criminal the past few days, one which seemed to have some sort of vendetta against the law. He merely went by the name of E. Nigma, and he had been terrorizing the GCPD by hacking into theur systems to release sensitive information to the masses, despite any and all security measures put in place.

He’d left cryptic hints as he went- some mentioned him by name. “The Batman.” Others were addressed to Gordon or Bullock. Each was mysterious, and vague, though seemed to allude to a bigger picture. Names of specific officers had been sprinkled throughout by means of codes and ciphers, so he’d been holed up in his cave researching each named figure on the GCPD’s archives.

He had some of the most advanced technology in the world at his disposal, and his main computer was no different, so he hadn’t expected this so-called enigma to find his way into his system any time soon. But then again, underestimating the enemy was so often the folly of confident heroes.

All at once, just as Bruce felt like he was beginning to get somewhere, the monitor went dead.

There was a sharp ringing in the air as the speakers crackled around him, a deep, malicious laugh pouring around him. The screen sporadically began to flash- off, on, off on, before a single, pixelated, green question mark floated in the middle of the dark plane before him.

“Riddle me this, detective~”

Oh.

Well.

This is going to be interesting.

#riddlebat #soulmate au

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tchallasbabymama · 3 years ago

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Troubled Waters Chapter Three

Hello, my lovelies, I’m back 🥰 Recovery is going well, so I started working on this chapter a few days ago, and voilà, c’est fini! I hope y’all enjoy the chapter but know I’m still working on some requests so these probably won’t be weekly updates. I’m shooting for every other week with requests in between, but we’ll see how it goes. Let me know if you want to be tagged in anything, and check out my masterlist to read my other stories and oneshots. There’s plenty of content for y’all to enjoy! As always, likes are appreciated, but your comments and reblogs really make my day.😘

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Word count: 5,759

Sego watched with concern from across the garden as yawns replaced Nia’s usual morning ballads. After the third yawn stretched over her usually cheery face, he set his magazine down on the metal bistro table and interrupted her daze, “You didn’t sleep well last night?”

“No,” Nia pouted as she turned to face her friend. “I kept waking up every couple of hours and then when I finally got to sleep, I kept hearing a voice talking about ‘the thinning’ over and over. I don’t even know what that means.”

“Sounds ominous. Did you ask Celeste?”

“Of course I did,” she snapped and immediately regretted it. “Sorry, I’m tired.”

“Clearly,” he rolled his eyes and she narrowed hers before spraying him with the water hose. “Hey!”

Nia giggled and went back to her plants as she pondered the message from her dream. Sego picked his fashion magazine back up and flipped through the colorful pages. He wasn’t one for clothing around the house, but when he was in public in his human form, he liked to keep up with the trends.

A comfortable silence fell over the two of them, and minutes passed before an idea came to Nia as she stroked a large monstera leaf. “You know, mama wasn’t much help, but someone else might be.”

Sego set down his magazine again and his face turned serious.

“Plan B?”

“Plan B,” she nodded.

Sego cracked his knuckles and stood up, “I’ll get the drum.”

Nia finished up outside and washed her hands before piling a plate full of the excess sausage and grits she had cooked with Sego in mind. He wasn’t hungry that morning, so it seemed her leftovers weren’t meant for him in the first place. Nia opened the ritual by placing the plate in the center of the altar and lighting her frankincense resin. She wafted the smoke around their bodies and Sego’s drum, opening them to the spirit world as she hummed the unnamed tune that always came to her during rituals. Once Nia set the small clay pot of burning resin back on the altar, they were ready to begin.

The two friends got into position with Sego placing the drum between his legs and rubbing his hand lightly over the head to set his intentions while Nia stood tall with her head and shoulders back as she waited for him to begin. A few moments later, Nia came alive at the first strike of the drum. She let go and allowed herself to get lost in the sacred sounds, stepping in rhythm. Her feet carried her counterclockwise as her upper body snaked forward and back, being pushed and pulled by unseen forces. When her head began to tingle, she fell to her knees, triggering Sego to pick up the pace as she swayed from side to side with her eyes closed and head tilted back. Nia’s ears began to ring with a high-pitched tone that grew louder and louder until her body grew warm and her eyes flew open. She saw a swirling aura above her, and even though she had hoped to contact Bast, she welcomed unknown spirit. She figured it had something important to say since they usually just communicate through the veil. However, this one felt the need to deliver it’s message in person. Nia’s irises turned white as she parted her lips, allowing the being to enter her body. Goosebumps appeared all over her skin as the high of possession took over her, and the spirit settled into her flesh. The room went quiet as Sego carefully observed his friend. She showed no signs of danger, but he held tight to his drum, ready to banish the strange spirit if necessary.

“Who are you?” he asked, and Nia’s head quickly shot to his direction.

“I am Oma,” she spoke in a gravelly voice that unnerved Sego. Despite the chill that went down his spine, he recognized the name as one of Nia’s distant ancestors, and his apprehension waned. However, his curiosity grew as he wondered how she was able to travel to them so easily.

“What do you want?”

“To warn you.”

“Of what?”

“The realms, they are moving.”

“Moving how?”

“Closer. Space between getting smaller and smaller,” she droned.

“What do you mean?”

“The dead will walk among the living, and the humans among your people.”

“But how is that possible?”

“Bast. Her magic weakens.”

Sego’s heart dropped into his stomach.

“Well, how-”

“You cannot stop them. Worlds collide.”

“Who is ‘them’?”

Nia’s head rolled back, and her body began to convulse as the spirit prepared to leave her host.

“No, not yet!” Sego tried to stop her, “Who is doing this!?”

“Be careful. She is precious.”

“Who?!”

Nia’s mouth flew open, and Oma exited her body before disappearing back into the realm of the dead. Sego rushed to his friend and caught her head before it hit the floor, laying it softly on her altar pillow. He grabbed the blanket Nia’s ugogo had woven for her only grandchild and laid it over her shivering body. Confused by what he just witnessed, Sego returned to his drum and closed the ritual with his skilled hands striking the instrument in rhythm. The sound cleared the air, and the vibrations traveled to Nia’s passed-out form, waking her from her state. He played softer as her chest heaved, and she reoriented herself with the world. Nia sat up slowly when her breathing returned to normal, her chilled fingers clinging to the blanket as she looked to her friend. Sego nodded and laid his palms flat on the drum.

“It was...scared,” Nia spoke softly as she ruminated on the spirit’s emotions. “Who was that?”

Sego pointed to the photo of her great-great-great grandma and her sisters. His finger landed just above the shortest one, all the way on the left. Her smile was the brightest of all her sisters, and her wings the biggest.

“Oma?” Nia asked through her brain fog as she tried to piece together what had just happened. As usual, she could only remember how the spirit felt in her body. This one felt anxious and in a hurry. “She’s never spoken to me before. What did she want?”

She attempted to stand, but Sego picked her up and carried her to her bed.

“I will tell you later. Right now, you need to rest.”

Before she could even protest, Nia’s body betrayed her, and she fell into a deep slumber. She slept the day away and woke up to fragrant smells wafting from the kitchen. Sego knew she would need to refuel after what she had just experienced, so he had prepared a hearty dinner to build her strength back up. Nia dragged herself into the kitchen right as he scooped the stewed meat and vegetables over a large bowl of rice. No words were spoken as she slid into the chair and dug into her food as though she hadn’t eaten in days. Sego took a seat on the other side of the table and waited for her to finish. It didn’t take long at all, and when Nia’s body finally felt full, she leaned back in her chair and took a deep breath.

“So, what did she say?”

Sego’s face contorted into a grimace as he spoke, “She, uh...she said the human realm and the realm of the dead are moving closer to ours.”

Confusion clouded Nia’s face as she tried to wrap her mind around Sego’s words.

“But how? Bast-”

“Is weak. Oma didn’t say how or why, but her magic is failing.”

Nia’s breath caught in her throat, and she looked down at her hands, testing her powers and making them glow a vibrant purple.

“I don’t feel any different, though.”

“Maybe because your magic was gifted to you, she doesn’t have to maintain it like the veils?”

“I didn’t think they required upkeep.”

“I didn’t either, but they’re thinning somehow.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes as Nia thought about Oma’s message before another question entered her mind.

“Why her?”

“She didn’t say,” Sego shrugged, “but she said to be careful and that ‘she is precious.’”

“Who?”

He shrugged again, and Nia stood from the table with conviction, “We should go see my dad. Maybe he’ll know more about her.”

“It’s worth a shot,” he lisped as his forked tongue flickered out and his body melted to the floor. His spotted skin turned to brown and black scales as his arms absorbed into his torso. Nia left to grab her bag, and she returned as his legs melded together. Sego slithered up her body and draped himself over her shoulders. When he got settled, Nia closed her eyes and felt the atmosphere thicken as she transported them to the magic realm. It was much easier than it was the last time she visited over a week ago. Usually, traveling through the veil felt like swimming through water, but it felt more like walking through a downpour this time.

“Did you feel that?” she asked Sego, and he nodded lazily.

Nia walked out her front door and warded it up tight before turning around and facing her other world. She smiled at the vibrant blue sky and breathed in the fragrant floral air before taking the first step into the magical realm. Her stomach twisted with anxiety as Sego’s words echoed through her head, but she was quickly pulled from her trance when a little voice called out on her right.

“Sawubona, Nia!” Adana waved excitedly, and Nia couldn’t help but grin at her young neighbor as she played with her doll on her front porch.

“Sawubona, Adana. How are you feeling today?” she asked as the girl glided over and hugged her waist. Sego slid down Nia’s shoulder a little, and his tongue tickled Adana’s cheeks, making her giggle.

“Good!” she said proudly as her wings flapped behind her.

“Let’s keep it that way,” Nia chuckled as she booped the little girl on her round nose. “I see you’ve been practicing flying.”

“Mhm. Umama said I’m not allowed to fly higher than this yet,” Adana said as she motioned to the few inches between her feet and the ground.

“That’s probably best. You remember what happened last time.”

Adana nodded, thinking back to when her mother had to carry her to Nia’s late one night with a broken wing.

“Umama says she’s gonna teach me how to go higher when I get bigger, and-”

“Adana, dinner!” Zita called from her kitchen, and the little aziza’s wings fluttered even faster at the thought of whatever her mother had prepared for her. Everyone in the neighborhood knew Zita was a fantastic cook, and despite having just eaten, Nia’s stomach grumbled at the thought of another meal. Especially one prepared by Zita.

“Tell her ‘hi’ for me,” Nia called out as Adana quickly waved goodbye and flew indoors. Sego shook his head fondly at the little girl as the door closed behind her, and Nia was thankful for the brief interaction calming her nerves.

As a known healer to all, Nia was very popular among the residents of Birnin Umlingo, the Magic City. She returned waves and short greetings as she made her way to her father’s place, which wasn’t too far from her own. When Nia and Sego arrived at the baobab tree Amare had fashioned into a cozy home for himself, she found him lounging on a limb with a book in his hand. Amare looked up from the page when he felt someone near, and joy spread across his face at seeing his greatest creation. Both of them started to glow faintly as they laid eyes on each other, and his large orange wings spread out as he flew down from his resting spot. Amare enveloped Nia and Sego in a warm hug and kissed her cheek before rubbing the python’s head.

“What are you doing here?”

“What? I can’t come visit my old man?”

“Who are you calling old?” he playfully scolded her as he held the intricately carved door open for her to come inside. She looked around at all the human gadgets that filled his home and smiled warmly at his treasures. Nia had always loved his collection, but the books and records were her favorite. Sometimes, they were all she had during the lonely days of her childhood.

“Oh, nobody,” she played coy as she removed Sego from her shoulders and set him on the ground. “How are you, ubaba?”

“I can’t complain, especially today,” he winked.

“Because your favorite daughter is here?”

“Of course! And I have a date in an hour.”

“A date?!”

“Yes, he’s taking me to a restaurant opening in the town square.”

“Sounds fancy. Who is this mystery man?”

“I’m sure you’ll still be here when he arrives. You can meet him then,” Amare said excitedly before another thought crossed his mind. “Oh, and I forgot to tell you! I popped over to the human realm and got these.”

He held out his arm, and Nia marveled at his brand new kimoyo beads, “Ooooh, those are nice.”

“Aren’t they? Top of the line,” he bragged as he examined the new bracelet that he had almost no use for in the magic realm. “Enough about me, though. Is something up? You never drop by unannounced.”

Nia sighed and plopped down in her favorite high-backed leather chair.

“Something’s wrong, ubaba.”

Amare’s eyebrows furrowed, and his wings sank a little as he sat across from his daughter.

“What is it?”

Nia explained her dream and the ritual to him and watched as his face contorted in confusion and disbelief.

“-and then she was gone.”

Amare leaned back in his chair and ran a hand over his face.

“Oma, huh?” he asked, and Nia nodded. “She was a powerful medium when she was alive. I guess if she can communicate with the dead from this realm, then she can easily communicate with the living from the realm of the dead.”

Nia nodded and continued, “I was trying to reach Bast when she cut in.”

“Hm...maybe she didn’t ‘cut in.’ If Bast’s magic is failing, she might not be able to hear you wherever she is.”

“Maybe you should ask T’Challa,” Sego quipped from the other side of the room as he changed back into his human form. Nia shot him a look to be quiet, and he smirked.

“The king?”

Nia sighed, “Yeah, I forgot to tell you I saw him again.”

“Sure, ‘forgot’ to tell him,” the shapeshifter mumbled.

“Sego!”

He put his hands up in defense, “Ok, I’m done.”

“So what happened this time? Did he recognize you? I hope you gave him a piece of your mind. King or no king, nobody hurts my baby and-”

“Ubaba.”

“What? I’m just saying. So what happened?”

“A bad man tried to hurt me, but before I could do anything, he showed up. He insisted on cleaning my wounds, so I let him, and…”

“And?”

“And he saw Zita and Adana, so I had to tell him about us.”

“You what?!”

“He had questions! What was I supposed to do?”

Amare sighed. “Ok, well, what did he say?”

“He was shocked, but I think he responded well. He didn’t treat me like a freak or anything.”

“That’s good. He seems like a decent, level-headed man.”

“I don’t think he’ll tell anyone. He was-” Nia was cut off by a ringing in her head as the protective wards around her home warned her of a visitor. She could tell by the low pitch that they were coming from the human realm. “I have to go, ubaba. Someone’s at my door.”

Amare and Nia stood while Sego sank back down into his python form and slithered over. The father and daughter hugged each other tightly and said their goodbyes before Nia and Sego were out the door and on their way home.

--------

Earlier that same day, T’Challa sat on his throne and halfway listened as the council argued over trade agreements between the tribes. His attention waned somewhere between the third and fourth attempt to compromise, and his mind wandered to the conversation he had with Nia almost a month ago. He hadn’t been able to get her off his mind lately. Not just her, but what he learned that night, too. He could barely wrap his mind around magical species existing in the first place, much less within his borders.

He was jolted back into the present by a nudge on his left arm and frowned at his cousin.

“What?” he whispered under his breath, knowing N’Jadaka could hear him. The prince also had the heart-shaped herb pumping through his veins from his coup attempt a year ago, so his senses were just as enhanced as T’Challa’s.

“Quit daydreaming,” he responded, equally as low so as not to give their conversation away to prying ears.

T’Challa fought an eye roll and straightened up in his throne.

“Let’s table this discussion for next week,” he cut the conversation short. “Now, is there anything else on the agenda for today?”

“No, my king, but I have one more thing I’d like to bring up,” said the Merchant tribe elder tentatively.

T’Challa nodded for her to continue.

“There have been some strange happenings among my people,” she began. “Just yesterday, a woman wandered into the market yelling about creatures nobody had ever seen before, then she collapsed and started seizing.”

“You’re concerned about a psychotic or epileptic episode?”

“It’s not so much the episode as what came after, your highness.”

“Ok…”

“She died before the doctor could get to her...and then she disappeared before the coroner could examine her body.”

“What do you mean ‘disappeared’?” T’Challa’s eyebrows furrowed as he leaned in closer.

“The men who transported the body were found knocked out cold...and when they woke up, she was gone.”

“Sounds like there’s a sick motherfucker around here somewhere,” N’Jadaka muttered with his signature scowl on his face. “Bodies don’t just disappear for no reason.”

The king ignored his cousin and focused on the Merchant elder. “You said she mentioned strange creatures?”

“Yes, my king. She looked deranged, and she spoke of creatures with dripping claws and visible skulls...She seemed terrified.”

T’Challa leaned back in his throne, and his mind wandered to Nia again, but this time with purpose. That didn’t sound like any creature he had ever heard of before, but he wondered if she had. His thoughts were interrupted by the Mining tribe elder.

“Also, if I may?”

T’Challa motioned for her to continue.

“There have been multiple sightings of abnormally large hyenas around our province.”

“There were some sniffing around the entrance to the lab this morning, but the Dora scared them off,” Princess Shuri added. “They didn’t look like any hyena I’ve ever seen. They were huge!”

M’Baku’s breathing faltered for a moment; he had heard of creatures like that before. When he met Nia a year prior, he began to worry about the existence of other, more dangerous magical species, and now his fears seemed to be coming true. He couldn’t just come out and say it, though, especially since several of the council members already considered the Jabari to be a backward people. He didn’t need “superstitious” added to the list of reasons not to like them. However, he felt that T’Challa might be a little more open to what he had to say. M’Baku decided a private audience with the king would probably be best.

“Hm...has anyone else noticed anything strange or unusual?” T’Challa asked the room, and two more hands went up. He nodded to the Border tribe elder, and the older man cleared his throat before speaking.

“We took a man into custody yesterday for killing his wife. He claimed she was alive when he left for work, but when he came home, all that was left was her bones. Of course, he’s claiming innocence, but the neighbors say they didn’t see her at all that day, which was unusual. But, um, we’re not sure how he was able to remove the flesh so easily. There looked to be bite marks.”

T’Challa looked to his little sister, who had a horrified look on her face, and grabbed her hand in his. He turned to his other side and saw N’Jadaka’s face scrunched up in disgust.

“What the fuck kind of sick shit y’all got going on over here?” he mumbled so only the king could hear.

“I’m not sure,” he whispered back. The king turned back to the council and gestured at the River tribe elder. “And you?”

“Sightings of strange fish in the river, your highness. Human-sized, much larger than what we are used to.”

T’Challa’s eyes shifted to his right and he noticed the Jabari chief’s nervousness, despite his best efforts to mask his feelings.

“Anything else?” T’Challa asked the council, and they all shook their heads. “N’Jadaka and I will investigate these claims further and have a report for next week. Meeting adjourned.”

The council members saluted him and took their leave—all except one.

“My king, may I have a word privately?”

T’Challa looked at M’Baku knowingly and motioned for the chief to follow him. The two of them, along with the prince and princess, retired to T’Challa’s office to continue their conversation.

“What can I do for you, my friend?” the king asked as everyone filed into the room. Shuri sat by the window and looked out at the country nervously, obviously spooked by what she just heard. N’Jadaka plopped down next to her and tried to seem unbothered, but he couldn’t stop fidgeting with his lucky knife, repeatedly flicking it open and closed in his left hand. M’Baku sat across from T’Challa at his desk, and his leg began to bounce involuntarily as he waited for the king to sit down.

M’Baku cleared his throat anxiously before he began, “We Jabari have many...beliefs that the rest of Wakanda seems to have let fall by the wayside. I only bring this up because of what I’ve seen with my own two eyes, but I believe the elders’ reports. Call me superstitious, but there are forces out there that you would not believe. Even I haven’t seen everything, but there is someone who might know what to do-”

“You’re saying you believe the crazy lady?” N’Jadaka scoffed.

“I do not believe she is ‘crazy’. I believe she saw something none of us could ever imagine.”

“Ok, and her body?” The prince challenged him as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

“I do not know...but I know who might.”

“Who?” Shuri chimed in as she tore her eyes from the scenery.

“She lives with the Border tribe. Her name is Nia-”

“Olu?” T’Challa’s eyes lit up in recognition, and M’Baku couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“You know her?!”

“She was the woman who was almost abducted a month ago. How do you know her?” the king asked curiously.

M’Baku wasn’t sure how much he could say without outing her as a non-human.

“She wandered into our territory once when we were still separate from the rest of you. She was very...odd,” M’Baku looked to the king, who seemed to understand his meaning. He wondered just how much he knew of her identity. “She might be able to help.”

“Odd how?” the prince interjected.

“It’s hard to explain,” the king brushed him off to avoid further prying, making M’Baku nod along. The chief still couldn’t tell how much T’Challa knew, but he kept his mouth shut nonetheless. “I will go talk to her.”

Shuri and N’Jadaka shared a look. They both felt like they were purposely being left in the dark, and neither appreciated it.

--------

Nia snuck back into her home in the magic realm and quickly threw on a headwrap before taking a deep breath and opening her door to the human realm. Her stomach twisted up again as she laid her eyes on the king and his guards standing on her doorstep.

“T’Challa, hey,” she greeted him nervously as she leaned against the doorframe with Sego still draped over her shoulders. Nia noticed the two fierce-looking women on either side of him look at her questioningly for her informality, but they said nothing.

“Hello, Nia,” he smiled before noticing Sego. “How are you today?”

“I’m alright. I, uh, actually just got back in from visiting my ubaba.”

“With that?” T’Challa motioned to Sego, and the python stuck out his tongue.

“Sego? Yeah, he likes to get out sometimes,” she said as she stroked her companion’s head. Nia backed up a little and opened the door wider for him, “Anyways, come on in.”

The king ordered the two guards to stay on the front porch, and they stood at attention, looking out at the village. Several of Nia’s neighbors had noticed their arrival and were trying their best to seem inconspicuous as they spied on her to see what was going on. It wasn’t often that the king came around, so the rumor mill started turning almost immediately.

Once T’Challa stepped into the familiar home, keeping a wide berth from Sego, Nia closed and locked the door behind him. They made their way over to the kitchen, and the king sat down in the same hand-carved chair he sat in the last time he was there.

“Can I get you anything?” Nia offered politely as she made her way over to the stovetop and started warming up a kettle she had filled up the night before. “I made a tea blend that helps calm the mind. I’m about to have some myself if you want in.”

“Sure, I’ll take a cup,” he responded with a smile. He watched her scoop the prepared herbs out of a jar and into two reusable cotton tea bags and place one each at the bottom of a mug. She worked in silence as she tried to calm the anxious feeling that had crept back into her bones after leaving Amare’s. Sego could feel her shaking and squeezed her just a little bit to get her to calm down. She relaxed at his hug and poured the hot water into the mugs before carrying them back over to the table. Nia sat down across from T’Challa and blew on her hot tea before taking a small sip. He did the same and smiled at the flavor. “This is delicious, Nia.”

“Thanks,” she gave a small smile back as her stomach fluttered at his compliment. “So...what brings you here?”

The king sighed and leaned back in his chair, watching intently as Sego slithered down from his perch and curled up in the corner. “There have been some strange activities around the kingdom, and I was wondering if you might know anything about it.”

“Strange how?” Nia’s head cocked to the side, and she placed her elbows on the table as she leaned in closer.

“First, there was a woman who was found dead in her home. Her neighbors saw her the day before, and her husband claims she was alive when he left for work, but all that was left was her bones,” he spoke carefully and observed as fearful recognition clouded her face. Nia couldn’t believe what she was hearing, but she easily put two and two together. The thinning had begun.

“W-what else?” she asked as she leaned in even closer.

“Another woman’s dead body disappeared. She wandered into the market screaming about horrifying creatures, then she seized and collapsed...but her body never made it to the coroner,” he paused to make sure she was still with him. She motioned for him to continue, and he spoke again, “There have also been reports of abnormally large hyenas and fish, but that is less concerning than the other two.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Nia mumbled as she got up and hurried to the bookshelf. She pulled out a large leather-bound book and opened it to a page near the middle before flipping a few pages forward. When she landed on what she was looking for, she set the heavy book down in front of the king. His eyes traveled to the page and widened in fright at the image of a childlike being with a mouth as wide as its face and sharp teeth on display.

“W-what is this?”

“Eloko,” Nia answered as she sat back down. “Long ago, our queen banished them to their own part of the forest. They’re harmless if you ignore them, but if you take pity on them and let them into your home...they’ll eat your flesh in minutes.”

T’Challa scanned the page, taking in every horrifying detail he could as he attempted to calm his heart rate. Not many things frightened the unshakable king, but he was completely out of his element. His mouth went dry as he attempted to speak, “And the other woman?”

“I’m not sure, but…”

He tore his eyes from the book and looked up at her. “But what?”

“I don’t want to jump to conclusions because it’s not a common occurrence, but when bodies disappear like that, there’s usually dark magic involved.”

“Dark magic?”

“Yeah...like I said, it’s not common, but over the years, there have been a few aziza who use their gifts in ways the rest of us do not approve of.”

“Like…?”

“Like creating zombi.”

“Those are real?”

“Very,” Nia shuddered and downed her tea. T’Challa’s eyes fell back to her book, and he began flipping through the well-worn pages. It felt old like it had been passed down for generations, and he surmised it probably belonged to her family for decades, centuries even. He flipped towards the front of the book, landing on the page about aziza. He couldn’t help but smile at the much more welcoming illustration. T’Challa got lost in the description as Nia stood and went to wash out her mug, needing something to do with her hands to calm her mind. He finished reading and looked up to ask her a question, but it slipped his mind when he noticed strange markings on her back in the shape of wings. He started to ask her about the scars when he realized he had seen them once before.

“It was you…”

“What was?” she asked without turning around, scrubbing her mug unnecessarily hard. Nia heard him stand and walk closer, but kept her focus on her task.

He removed the mug from her hand and rinsed it out. Before she could protest, he spoke softly, “I said they looked like wings.”

Nia stilled as she remembered her tube top left her back exposed.

“Yeah…I remember,” she murmured without looking up at him despite their closeness.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I don’t know,” she shrugged, “I just didn’t think it was important.”

T’Challa smiled, “Of course it’s important! I never forgot that day…now I know how you appeared out of nowhere.”

“Heh, yeah,” Nia responded as she pushed past him to grab her tea kettle. She filled it up again, but still wouldn’t make eye contact. T’Challa looked at her, confused by her change in attitude when it clicked for him...

“You know, I wanted to see you again-“

“Then why didn’t you come back?” She snapped and he realized why she didn’t seem to like him that much.

“I did. My baba took me on a trip with him that night. We were gone for two weeks, but I came back looking for you.”

Nia paused again before setting the kettle back on the stove. She turned to face him, and he could see the confusion all over her face.

“You did?” She asked apprehensively, and he nodded in response. “I went back every day for a week before ubaba made me stop. He didn’t like seeing me so sad.”

T’Challa’s face fell and he took a step forward, “Nia, I-“

“No, it’s fine.” Nia moved away from him and his heart sank as he watched her go over to her herb pantry. She rummaged around for a while before she came back with yet another tea blend.

“So, I’ve been meaning to ask you,” she began to change the subject, “have you spoken to Bast recently?”

T’Challa didn’t want to upset her more by pushing the conversation, so he went along with her train of thought.

“Uh, no. It’s been a while. Why?” he asked as he leaned against the counter, eyes tracking her as she moved to sit back at the table. Nia noticed he had been reading about aziza and smiled internally.

“The veil is thinning. That’s how the eloko got through…and who knows what else.”

“The veil?”

“Yeah, it’s like the border between realms.”

“How is that possible?”

Nia shrugged, “Only Bast knows.”

“And she’s not answering you,” he mused as he sat next to her. She wanted to move away, but forced herself to stay still.

“Nope. I tried this morning, but one of my ancestors came through and told us about the veil.”

“Us?”

“Me and Sego.”

“The snake?”

“Python,” Nia chuckled and shot Sego a look to warn him to behave.

“My apologies. So what did they say?”

“The realms of the living and dead, and the human and magical realms are colliding…they might overlap soon. That and ‘she is precious.’”

“Who is?”

Nia shrugged, “Bast, I guess.”

“But you think she’s disappeared…” T’Challa thought aloud.

“Yebo. I don’t know what can make a god disappear, though. Another god maybe?”

T’Challa’s mind wandered to his Avengers colleague, Thor, but he had no way to contact the god while he was off-planet.

“Perhaps.”

“I could try contacting some.”

T’Challa nodded as the wheels turned in his mind. “There are smaller cults around the country that worship other gods. We might be able to-“

“We?”

“Well, yes, I was hoping you would come with me. I’ll need someone with your expertise. I know nothing about all this, but you do…I need your help.”

“I don’t know, I-“

“Please, Nia,” he begged as he grabbed her hand in his. The silence was thick as they looked at each other, but neither was able to look away. “I need you.”

Nia stopped breathing for a moment as he trapped her in his puppy dog eyes. She wanted to say no, she really did…but she just couldn’t.

“Ok, I’ll do it.”

Next Chapter

Taglist: @maddeningmayhem, @theblulife, @motheroffae, @love-mesome-me, @toni9, @bribrisback, @dersha89, @impremenior, @ljstraightnochaser, @love—life—passion, @yourstrulybrii

#cecewritessometimes #black panther fanfiction #t'challa x nia #aziza #t'challa x oc #black!oc #troubled waters #Youtube

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kikis-writing-world · 4 years ago

Text

Fireflies

Summary: Your own mind is your own worst enemy. Jack wants to help you through your depressive episode.

Pairing: Agent Whiskey x GN!Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Rating/Warnings: Reader has depression/depressive thoughts. Reader wants to disappear (not quite suicidal thoughts, but it gets close. I want you all to be warned.) Reader is pushing people away, neglecting themselves through their episode. It’s a heavy one, and I wrote it when I was pretty deep - please let me know if I missed anything and take care of yourselves loves <3

A/N: This is extremely self-indulgent, and absolutely a self-insert. I wrote it to cope with a bad low, and I kinda like the way it turned out. I thought some of y’all might like it too. The memory of the train in my grandparent’s backyard is 100% true, and to this day I love the sound of a train.

Your brain was at war with itself, only adding to the exhaustion that seeped into your very soul. Days seemed never ending and nights seemed even longer. Gravity felt stronger and even the things you used to enjoy felt like they were now weighing you down, pulling you closer and closer to the earth until you would just disappear. Maybe that's what you wanted - to disappear. To melt into the ground, or float away on the wind.

You knew you were pulling away. Pulling away from your friends, from work, from Jack. You just didn’t have the energy for any of it. Socializing, working, moving, taking care of yourself. If it wasn’t for Jack practically force feeding you, you probably wouldn’t have eaten in days. It didn’t matter if he brought you toast or made a beautiful meal. Nothing had taste anymore. It was bland, and the energy to chew was too much.

You tried to move to the guest room but he wouldn’t allow it. You were sure you stank, and that your lack of sleep was keeping him awake too. You didn’t want to be a bother, didn’t want him to have to look after you like you were an invalid. When he’d found you in the guest bed, he’d picked you up and carried you back to bed without a word.

You didn’t deserve him. You knew that early on in the relationship and you knew it even more now. He could charm anyone, could have anyone he wanted you were sure. Somehow he’d gotten stuck with you. Stuck taking care of you. You knew what happened to his first wife, and you would have gladly taken her place if it meant he could have her now.

You didn’t want to die. Not really. It just hurt so much to be. If there was a way to not be for a little while, so you could finally rest and rid yourself of this existential exhaustion, you’d probably feel better. You didn’t want to stop living - just pause it. And feeling so ungrateful for the wonderful life you knew you had, made you wish you could have switched places with someone who wouldn’t be taking it for granted. Not the house, or the health, or the friends and family you had.

You were so guilty. You hated yourself for feeling this way. Knowing that you had no real reason to be like this made it worse. Jack was the one who had been through so much. If anything, he should be the one deep in depression as you tried to show him there was still so much good in the world. Instead, it was left to him to prove it to you. It made you cry. Not loudly. You couldn’t have Jack hear your sobs, rushing to your side, asking what was wrong. You cried silently. Not moving, barely breathing. Tears rolling down your face in the dark as he laid beside you.

He deserved so much more than you, and you knew it, but you didn’t have the energy to leave. You didn’t have the energy for anything.

Jack hadn’t come home from work that night. The war in your head grew louder.

What if he left you? It’s what you wanted, wasn’t it? You wanted him to leave you and your pathetic issues behind so he could have a more fulfilling life. He could move on, find someone to be happy with - maybe he already had. Maybe that’s where he was now, instead of in your home.

But if that’s what you had wanted, why did it hurt so much? Why did the silence in the house feel more ominous than before? You felt so small in the big bed, in the big house, in the big world. Surely, no one would notice you disappear. You buried your head under the blankets, hoping that if you made yourself small enough, you’d shrink until you were just gone.

Someone shook your shoulder, waking you from a dreamless sleep. You hadn’t even realized you had fallen asleep.

“Hey darlin’,” Jack greeted, his voice low and sweet like honey. Your heart stuttered when you realized he was here. He hadn’t left you after all. “I need ya to wake up for me.”

You opened your eyes, but the room was dark. You could only make out the silhouette of Jack against the light coming in through the open door. The light was dim - the hallway light wasn’t on, but the living room light must be. The blackout curtains that had stayed closed for days couldn’t give you any hint of what time it was. Had you slept all night, or was it only evening?

“C’mon.” Jack prompted, trying to get you to sit up.

“What’s going on?” Your voice cracked from disuse. You rolled over, Jack taking that to mean you were trying to sit up. He took your hands in his, gently pulling you to sitting.

“It’s a surprise. Just wrap your arms around my neck.” He instructed, one arm resting behind your back as the other scooped up your legs at the knees. He waited patiently for you to grab on before he lifted you from the bed, still wrapped in your blanket.

“Where are you taking me?” Your voice shook. Was he getting rid of you? Was he literally carrying you out of the house to dump you on your ass outside? You deserved it…

“We’re going on an adventure.” He must have heard the fear in your voice as he pressed a kiss to the side of your head.

“I don’t want to go anywhere, Jack,” you whined, burying your head in his shoulder. You didn’t want to leave the bed, let alone go outside. You were sure you looked absolutely awful. Sweat and oil and tears, hair matted every which way-

He stopped walking and nuzzled his nose against you. If his arms weren’t full of you, he’d probably be lifting your chin to make you look him in the eyes. “Do you trust me, June Bug?” He asked, adding in his favorite pet name for you.

You took a deep, shaky breath. Of course you did. God, you didn’t want him to think that you didn’t. You reluctantly nodded.

His steps continued, out the front door that he had left open. He paused and asked you to close it behind the two of you, which you did. It was dark out. Not quite pitch black yet. The streetlights had come on, but the sky still held a midnight shade of blue as the sun dipped further below the horizon. That helped answer your question about what time it was. It was late evening.

Jack carried you to the Bronco, which was still running from whenever he’d left it to come collect you. He had you open the passenger door before setting you in the seat. It was cool in the Bronco, the A/C having been running while he was gone. It made you shiver and burrow deeper into the blanket. Jack chuckled, leaning across you to buckle your seat-belt. He kissed your cheek before closing the door and jogging around the front of the truck to hop in on his side. He started driving before he asked you if it was too cold.

“No,” you shook your head. “It’s nice.” It was a little chilly, especially against your flushed, sweat damp skin from falling asleep with your head tucked under the blanket, but buried it was the perfect temperature to snuggle into your blanket.

“Good.” Jack hummed, resting a hand against your leg as he focussed on the road.

You curled up, half-sideways in the seat, looking in his direction as you laid your head against the back of the seat. You watched the scenery pass, the streetlamps illuminating Jack’s features as he drove. His strong nose and his neat mustache. His pouty bottom lip. The bags under his eyes caused by you-

You forced yourself to look past him, to the passing houses as you fought the urge to cry. You weren’t sure when your eyes drifted closed.

You woke when you felt Jack lifting you out of the truck. You groaned softly, wrapping your arms around him as you dropped your head on his shoulder. The blanket was still around you.

“I got’cha.” He soothed, his voice vibrating against you. You heard the door slam shut as he started moving you. Gravel crunched under his feet as crickets chirped. How long had you been driving? Where were you?

You were about to look up when he sat you down. You opened your eyes, rubbing the sleep out of them as you took in your surroundings. You were sitting in the back of the Bronco, the tailgate open in front of you. The sun had fully set in the time you’d been sleeping, the stars shining in the sky matched by the twinkling of fireflies across the field of darkness in front of you. Your eyes widened as you watched the hundreds of little bugs dancing, their lights flickering on and off.

“Wow,” you breathed, leaning forward to see them better.

Jack joined you after a moment, sitting next to you with two travel mugs in his hands. He offered you one and you wiggled your arms out of your blanket to take it. It was warm in your hands and you could smell your favorite spiced hot chocolate.

The interior light of the truck clicked off, giving you an even better view of the stars and the fireflies as Jack threw his arm around you, pulling you into his side.

“What are we doing?” You asked, curiously.

“Just this.” Jack answered obviously, taking a sip from his own mug. “And waiting.”

“Waiting? For what?”

“You’ll see.” He promised. You couldn’t see his face just yet, your eyes still adjusting to the dimness, but you were sure he was smirking. The mischievous tone to his voice all but confirmed it.

You sipped your own hot chocolate, the warmth being the most noticeable trait. You could smell the spices, but your palate was still nothing but bland. You appreciated the effort and the warmth though.

A few minutes of sitting there, your eyes adjusting enough to see the edge of the grassy field Jack had parked you near, and you heard the clanging of a railway crossing. You perked up minimally, eyebrows raising as you looked for what direction it was coming from.

The train whistle blew in the distance, the sound mesmerizing. Jack rubbed your arm as you watched for the train. It’s bright headlight appeared, far past the field of fireflies. The clickety-clack of the wheels, the slight squealing of metal, the deep vibrations - the sound all sent you back to your childhood, watching in wonder as the train rolled just past the fence of your grandparent’s backyard. You couldn’t see the train other than it’s lights, but you didn’t care.

As the sound consumed you, you leaned further into Jack, feeling the tears welling in your eyes. You let them go, letting yourself shake, your shoulders heave as you cried. Jack pulled you closer, rubbing your back as the train masked the sound of your sobbing. You weren’t sure if Jack was shaking too, or if it was just from the train. You didn’t have your answer until the train was gone, leaving you with the quiet sounds of the outdoors once more. Crickets, grass waving in the wind, and Jack sniffling.

“I’m sorry.” You cried into his chest. You weren’t even sure what you were apologizing for. For being worthless. For him having to deal with you. For crying when he was trying to do something amazing for you. For ruining his shirt with the crying. For not being able to be better. For making him worry over you. For making him upset in turn.

“Shh, just let it out, darlin’.” Jack shushed you, rocking the two of you back and forth. “You ain’t always gotta hide away from me.”

He held you as you cried for what felt like hours. The tears didn’t stop until your throat was sore and your voice hoarse. Tears and snot covered your face and soaked into Jack’s shirt. You started to apologize but he ignored you, wiping your face with a corner of the blanket.

“Feel a little better?” He asked hopefully. Even in the dark night, you could see the hope in his eyes.

“A little.” You admitted, feeling happy that you didn’t have to lie to him. It didn’t feel like you had quite so much weight pulling you down anymore. It wasn’t gone, but it was lighter.

“Good.” He kissed you chastely. Your lips were chapped, scratchy against his soft, plush lips. You appreciated that he didn’t push it further, dreading your breath after neglecting your hygiene.

You curled back into his side, looking out into the darkness again. The fireflies were still there, still flitting around as they blinked. You watched them, sipping your hot chocolate as the night cooled around the two of you.

You wouldn’t call it happy… but you wouldn’t call it sad either. And that was a start.

Tagging @wickedfrsgrl @din-damn-djarin @dinthisisthe-wayson @vonschweetz @insideafictionaluniverse @driedgreentomatoes @computeringturtle @thottiewinemom

#Agent Whiskey #Agent Whiskey x Reader #Agent Whiskey x You #Agent Whiskey imagine #Agent Whiskey fic #Agent Jack Daniels #Agent Jack Daniels x Reader #Agent Jack Daniels x You #WookieTales

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theneverfinishedstory · 3 years ago

Text

10. Dark Skies

CW: Implied eating of humanoid people

Something tapped her nose. The tapping spread from her cheeks to her forehead and nose all at once. Mirage opened her eyes as more raindrops pattered against her face. The sky, only a few hours ago a bright blue with some puffy white clouds, was now a deep purple-black. Thunder rumbled when Mirage shot up. She glanced around her and saw the whole campsite was empty. The other trainees’ bed rolls were where they had left them. Mirage swore, grabbing her hat next to her bedroll, and got to her feet. She was late.

It was time for the five trainees to prove their full fledged membership. A few days earlier, the five of them, Mirage, Josephine, Hayden, Ida, and Leonard had set out from Beggar's Canyon towards their mission’s hotspot. A band of werejackals had amassed quite a fortune from attacking wagon trains traveling between remote towns. Because of all the murders and robberies, that particular trail was abandoned. But rumor had it the werejackals still staked out the road, waiting for more travelers. More importantly, they sat on their mounds of treasure. Since it wasn’t doing anything good for anybody, the Caravan thought it would be perfect for the recruits to find it. The recruits were given a time to strike and Mirage had just slept right through it.

“Shit, shit, horse shit,” she hissed to herself.

She headed down the cliffside towards the outcropping of mesas where the werejackals’ hideout was supposed to be. It would be easy enough to find; Mirage just had to follow the old wagon tracks that were baked into the ground winding its way between the small mesas. It was the ground coverage she needed to make up for. As she ran, Mirage focused her inner energy and tapped into the wellspring Arabella and Ransom called ki. Like a jolt of strong coffee, Mirage felt her stride lengthen and she instantly covered more ground. She slowed her pace when between the mesas. The only sound she heard was her footsteps, an occasional rumble of thunder, and the increasing patter of raindrops against rocks above.

About halfway through the pass, Mirage came around a bend. The bend led into a large open space, the rock walls of the two mesas now about fifty feet apart. Broken wagon wheels lay next to their snapped wooden axles and tattered canvas fluttered from the husks of wagon coverings. Barrel staves, the barrels themselves long ago torn open, were now rusted halos in the dirt. Close to the center of the wreckage, was a small fire. Two humanoid creatures hunched over it and spoke to a massive figure on the opposite side of it. From what Mirage could see, the creature had an animal like body but a human torso and head. There was a stack of humanoid figures next to it. Red eyes glanced over and saw Mirage’s horrified expression.

“Well boys, you must have missed one,” the voice said, clear as a church bell among the rain.

“Nah, your majesty,'' a voice said near Mirage’s right side, “We’ve been tracking her since we heard her. These boots these fools wear sure are a dead giveaway, huh?”

Mirage struck out where she thought the person was. Her fist grazed coarse fur.

“Tsk, tsk,” the werejackal said, already moving away from Miage. “Feisty. Mind if we play with your food again, your majesty?”

“Quiet, Rylan,” the creature ordered. “Come here, little one. Come closer. I want to see you up close.”

When Mirage didn’t move, the werejackal closer to her whispered, “Better listen, numbskull.”

Against her better judgement, Mirage slowly moved closer. She heard two additional werejackals join from her left as the original one on her right followed close behind. Five total and the monster on the other side. She racked her brain trying to remember if a monster was ever discussed in the mission briefing. All she remembered discussing were werejackals: basic humanoid creatures that worked in small packs. Mirage knew she would have remembered a mission involving a half mountain lion person.

Now that she was closer to the fire, Mirage could see the mysterious creature. From the top up, she was the most beautiful woman Mirage had ever seen. Long gold hair hung in a braid on either side of the woman’s face. A jewel toned cowboy hat graced her head. Her cheekbones were sharp enough to cut rope and the red eyes, hot like embers, regarded Mirage carefully. She wasn’t wearing a shirt, just layers of necklaces, all gold and encrusted with turquoise, jade, and obsidian. Her sun-baked skin melted into the lower half of a mountain lion, but five times bigger. Four massive paws ended in bloodied claws and her lion’s tail flicked in the dirt. The rain did little to diminish the presence this creature had.

“Who are you?” Mirage blurted out. “What are you doing here? You weren’t...this wasn’t… where are the others?”

“Others?” the creature repeated, her tone full of mockery. “You don’t possibly mean the four heroes dressed like you?” She leaned forward, adding, “Though you have a different colored bandanna.”

“Yeah, I mean them,” Mirage replied. “Where are they?”

The werejackals all around her started snickering, their high pitched giggles mixing with the next roll of thunder.

The creature smiled and shushed them. Pointing over to the pile, “Care to join them, little one?” she asked.

Further out, Mirage couldn’t make out who was in the pile of bodies, but now that she was closer, she saw them all. Hayden’s black boots they’d bragged about stealing, Ida’s hand woven belt, Leonard’s shaggy green hair, Josephine’s red bandanna; the bodies were her fellow recruits. Mirage stumbled backwards and looked back at the creature.

“H-how? They were all trained, we are all trained-” Mirage said.

“Trained in the mysterious powers of ki, right?” the creature replied. “I happen to know a lot about ki and how to get into little peasants' minds that seem to work like you and yours formerly. Honestly, in hindsight I should have just commanded them all to serve me, but I was just so hungry. And a little tender meat is a favorite of mine. Turn one against the others and it is just a wonderful show with a meal afterwards”

The creature took something off the fire. Mirage watched as the hunk of meat disappeared into the monster’s very human mouth. While chewing, she sighed, “There’s two things in life I live for. Tender meat and treasure. Speaking of, y’all were trying to steal from me.”

“Y’all weren’t doing anything with it, nothing useful to nobody!” Mirage said. “Your money could help people, people who really need it.”

A pink tongue licked a bit of blood from the corner of the creature’s mouth. “Or I could keep it and admire it. Which I find much more appealing than what you suggested.”

“Your majesty, I hear people approaching!” one of the werejackals in the back hissed.

The creature’s lips pursed. “Maybe that message they were sending did get out.”

“Do we fight?” the werejackal to the right of Mirage asked.

“Let’s see what they want,” was the reply. “You, little one. I suggest you remain where you are but turn and face them.”

Mirage was going to tell her to go to hell but oddly enough felt her body turning away from the fire. She tried to twist back but couldn’t. Having her back to an enemy so unknown to her sent Mirage’s mind into overdrive. She tried to meditate and focus on breathing like Ransom and Arabella taught her to, but it wasn’t working. Giving up, Mirage opened her eyes as a dozen or so members of the Caravan came around the bend. Seeing what was before them, almost In perfect unison, they all shifted into fighting stances.

A raspy voice shouted something over in a language Mirage didn’t understand. Seeing the orange kerchief, Mirage assumed it was Jolene, one of the Caravan leaders. The creature replied something back in the same language, the creature’s voice sounding unimpressed. The conversation picked up speed and increased in volume between the two and Mirage understood none of it. After what felt like an eternity, the strange compulsion to remain where she was, faded. Freedom returning, Mirage pitched forward and kept moving that direction, trying to put as much distance as she could between her and the creature. Arms grabbed her in a fierce hug and Mirage panicked, shoving the person away.

“Eolian, it’s me,” Arabella said.

She grabbed Mirage’s shoulders and forced her to stand still. The tiefling was panting and there was a sheen sweat across her forehead. Mirage stopped struggling but had to see behind her, just to check that she was still awake and not dreaming. The other members of the Caravan were walking forward, following Jolene towards the fire. The werejackals made room and scuttled closer to the creature as the monks sat down. Once seated, Jolene called out over her shoulder in Common, “McClain, Jericho. Get Eolian out of here. We’ll meet you when we’re done here.”

With a curt nod, Arabella guided Mirage the way she had entered the nightmare back out the wagon path. Arabella’s arm remained around Mirage’s shoulders as they walked. Ransom appeared on Mirage’s other side. The rain turned into a downpour. Hard packed, dusty dirt softened. Water streamed off each of the trio’s hat brims. Mirage, not able to see in the dark, found her boots caught on every rock and dip and valley the rain carved. But Arabella kept her upright as they continued on.

Not able to keep it in anymore, Ransom whispered, “How the hell did you survive that, Mirage?”

Mirage felt her eyes well with their own rainwater, saying, “I slept in.”

#d&d #d&d wild west campaign #d&d story #original character #d&d monk #smoke genasi #original content #short story #fantasy writing #yeehawgust #yeehawgust 2021 #dark skies

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hghway-2-heaven · 5 years ago

Text

— ask me when i’m sober (part 2)

link to part one — (1)

word count: 1.891k

warnings: SMUT, some fluff if you squint, protected sex, oral (female receiving), some choking

a/n: i’m sorry this update took so long y’all sjdhdhfhdbdhddh i hope it was worth the wait. i’m in the process of working on some requests but feel free to send in some more!! love y’all <3

“Ask me when I’m sober.” You told Mark as you stood up and laid next to him on the couch. Your head was beginning to ache and all you wanted to do was sleep now.

“I thought you were crazy needy,” Mark chuckled as he pulled his pants up, cuddling you from behind on the tight fitting space of the couch.

“Like I said, ask me when I’m sober.” You sighed as your eyes began to fall closed, Mark following soon after you, his orgasm knocking all energy out of him.

And you two stayed like that until midnight when the members poured back into the dorm, subsequently waking you two up with their laughing faces and mocking noises. You and Mark both decided to pay them no mind, still mostly drunk despite your two hour nap together. Water and aspirin, that was your before bed snack.

Mark went back to cuddling you once you both reached his bed. You fell asleep quick, and the morning came just as quickly— and you were reminded of the night before’s endeavors with the arm of your best friend on your chest and a pounding in your head.

Your heart began to race as the memories flooded back in. You mentally cursed yourself as you got off the bed quickly, running to the bathroom to splash cold water onto your face as you processed your thoughts.

I gave my best friend a blowjob, you thought over and over again. I gave my best friend a fucking blowjob.

And god dammit, you liked it.

As you collected yourself and your thoughts you slowly made your way back to Mark’s room, where he was also now awake, and your panic intensified as he watched your every move carefully.

“Hey..” Mark said, breaking what would’ve been an awkward silence.

“Hey,” you responded, with a slight raise in the pitch of your voice that occurred when you were nervous. He knew this, and he definitely noticed it.

A silence filled the room again that you wanted desperately to break, but you just didn’t know what to say. You were lucky Mark always did.

“So last night,” Mark began, and you could feel your heart beating out of your chest. “Are you sober?” He asked.

You raised your eyebrow at him. Of course you were, you slept the alcohol off. “Yeah, why?”

He stood up off the bed and slowly walked towards you. You prayed to whatever god there was out there that with every furthering step he couldn’t hear the way your heart was immobilizing you.

“So then, do you want me to help you out?”

If you thought you were speechless before, you had no idea what you were now. You had no idea Mark could be so.. brazen. Maybe he’s still drunk.

“Mark..” you started.

“Stop.” he interrupted. “I know what you’re gonna say. Last night was a mistake, we should just forget about it.”

”I just—“

“Please, y/n,” Mark interrupted again. “Let me say this before I chicken out.” he spoke softly.

You simply sighed and nodded, silently telling him to go on.

“Okay,” Mark spoke. “I think I like you. Like, like you like you. More than a friend. And after last night... I think there’s a chance you feel the same way. So please be honest with me when I say,” he placed his arms on your shoulders. “Do you want me to help you out?”

You gulped before finally responding with a heavy breath. “Yes.”

And that was all he needed before he smiled at you and slowly reached for your lips, connecting his with yours.

You stayed this way for a while, just his lips connected with yours as they moved together slowly, before he finally pulled away, a string of spit following his mouth.

His hand gripped your breast over your shirt hard as he reconnected his lips with yours, passion and lust speaking volumes with the way his tongue protruded your mouth. He grabbed your thighs and lifted you up, carrying you the short distance back over to his bed before throwing you down. He stood over you as he pulled his shirt off with ease. You couldn’t help but stare as you sat up to graze his chest with your hand. He watched you intensely, his breath picking up every time your nails ran over his nipples or felt down his happy trail. You experimentally pulled at the front of his shorts, and the response he gave got the heat between your legs rising rapidly. He practically growled down at you as he placed both hands at the side of your neck before roughly kissing you again. He pushed you back finally, your back hitting the bed hard, before placing his hand on your lower stomach, kissing next to where his hand laid before pulling your shorts and panties down together. The cold air hitting your pussy felt so nice, you almost didn’t care that you were exposed to your best friend for the first time. But you did, and you hid your face in your hands as he spread your legs open, taking a minute to stare into the most vulnerable spot on your body. He was admiring; you were embarrassed. And he could tell by the way you tried to close your legs.

“Mark..” you whined as he pushed your legs back open.

“Please don’t be shy,” he whispered. And with that, he dove into your core. You gasped as he almost immediately found your clit with his tongue.

“Holy fuck, Mark,” you moaned. He hummed into your core at the praise.

He flicked his tongue up and down your whole pussy, before his tongue reached your hole and proceeded to enter it.

He tongue fucked you just like that, and the sensation was a new one for you. It wasn’t your first time receiving oral, but god, it was the first time someone did that. And you were absolutely living for it as you gripped his hair and pushed him down deeper into your core.

He hummed again, aroused at the way you were pulling his black locks, before moving back up to your clit and abusing it for just a little while longer, before your legs began to shake with the oncoming warnings of your orgasm. But it was halted as Mark lifted his face away from your core, causing you to whine.

“I know you took care of me last night, but fuck, y/n, I need to be inside you,” he groaned, before looking to you for approval. “Is that okay?”

You didn’t even have to think before you frantically nodded. “Yes, Mark, just hurry please.”

“Okay, just one second,” he said as he reached for his side dresser for a spare condom you didn’t even know he kept in there. He finished undressing himself, his cock hitting his chest as it sprung free, before reaching for the edge of your shirt. You raised your chest up a bit to help him get it over your head, and for a moment he was mesmerized by your breasts. He couldn’t help himself from reaching down for a moment to suck on the right one as he massaged the left. You moaned deeply as you held the back of his head, before he finally sat up.

He unwrapped the condom with ease and slid it over his dick as fast as he could, before finally lining himself up with your entrance.

He looked at you before proceeding, and in his eyes you could see a mix of lust and..... love?

And then he was sliding in with a moan.

He didn’t hesitate to begin fucking you; not like you needed any prepping anyway. You were so wet you were dripping, and you adjusted to his size nicely, like he was made to fit inside of you. His hips slapping against yours created such a nice noise to the both of you. Your moans, however, were soon to become his favorite one.

It wasn’t long before he had to place his hand over your mouth to keep the volume down, as the members were most likely beginning to wake up and would soon be able to hear what was going down in Mark’s room. It also wasn’t long before you took his hand and moved it to your neck. It shocked him but he obliged. He liked the sound of your moans pushing through the restraint of his hand, and you liked how it felt.

He was fucking you with the vigor of a mad man and yet he still was able to comply to the requests you made after begging for him to go even faster. Soon he had one hand around your neck and one hand over your mouth, the cutting off of your breath no longer enough to keep your noises to a minimum, despite how much he loved them.

He fucked you so good. Your nails left scratch marks on his back that were sure to last for a while. You were positive at one point you were drawing blood, but the groans he let out implied he was enjoying it, so you kept on.

Mark’s hand around your neck moved down to your clit and began to rub, edging you to your long awaited orgasm. And it wasn’t long before you were clenching around him with overwhelming pleasure.

“Mark, fuck! I’m coming, fuck, fuck, fuck...” you dragged out.

“Shit, y/n,” Mark moaned in response, his pace quickening as he too was reaching his release. He fucked you through your hard, body chilling, orgasm and didn’t let up when you finished.

He chased his own release like it was the last thing he would ever do, fucking into you as if you were his toy. His hand had traveled back up to your neck, and he applied slight pressure where he saw fit. The sides of your neck were squeezed at just the right amount and you were choking out your breaths.

You whined into his ear as overstimulation began to set in, before he sat up, holding your hips as he continued fucking you. He watched the way your breasts bounced beautifully as he rocked your body, and groaned at the sight.

“Fuck, fuck!” He practically yelled, and then he was coming, stilling his body against yours as he collapsed back onto your chest. You two exchanged heavy breaths and debatably romantic stares before he climbed off of you, disposing of the condom in the waste bin near his bed.

As he settled down in all his naked glory next to you, he pulled you close to him before laying back down, your body wrapped in his arms. Skin to skin, you two could not get any closer. And that was okay, because neither of you wanted to be any further.

As your breaths slowed to a normal pace and the shaking of your legs stopped, Mark reached down to grab your chin, before pulling you into a deep kiss, full of passion.

He pulled away and simply said, “We should get drunk and sober more often.” Which you would both agree, was very Mark of him.

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fear-before-valor · 3 years ago

Note

Sweet dreams Jimbo, 😨 brings you a Draal~

Dreams and Nightmares II No Longer Accepting II Warnings: Major gore, graphic depictions of body horror, extreme grief, death, gravesite, bodies, burial practices, soul-crushing angst, 0 comfort in sight; y’all this one is rough, so please don’t read unless you are in a state of mind where you can handle these things II Also, this one is longer than the other ones, coming in at 1882 words, so brace for that as well II And don’t forget to take care of yourselves after this <3

Final note: if you see anything you think needs to be tagged, please let me know!

He was in the void. There were stars above him, and trails of blue around him, as spirits bustled through the space, not seeming to pay him much mind, really. Briefly, he wondered if ghosts could even be busy, but he dismissed the thought as he drew Daylight, instead, the warm metal familiar in his two-handed grip.

Although, as for why exactly he’d drawn his sword, he wasn’t entirely sure.

Was he here to train?

Kanjigar liked getting to test his reflexes every so often, so that must have been why he’d gone into the Soothscryer in the first place, right?

…So why was he all alone…?

When his predecessor didn’t show, Jim straightened from his readied stance, relaxing his posture. Snapping Daylight to his back, he stepped forward, eyes grazing bit by bit over the void and its runes, searching for any sign that could refresh his memory, remind him why he was there.

Scouring the room, he jogged lightly around its perimeter, wondering if Kanjigar might have just missed him. Maybe if he ran into the spirit…

Something freezing appeared at Jim’s elbow, causing him to stiffen, as he felt prickles of frost across his skin, beneath the armor… maybe even through his muscles and down to the marrow of his bones.

It certainly felt that way, at least, as he wrapped his arms around himself, in an unsuccessful attempt to warm himself up.

Turning to find the source of the chill, he found himself face-to-face with a tunnel, black as pitch and foggy by his ankles.

It was odd.

He’d never seen it before… had it always been there?

Shooting one glance back into the spirit hub, none of the other Trollhunters seemed to have noticed what he was doing… or even that he was there, at all; so, with one last deep breath of the temperate air in the other room, he turned to the tunnel and stepped inside.

The tunnel was long, impossibly so.

Though, how he knew that, he wasn’t sure. Because, as he blinked, he was coming out the other end.

Whirling on his heels, and… panting, for some reason—perhaps because he’d been walking for what must have been a day? (how did he know that?)—he stared back into the mouth of the blackened door, and tried to piece together what had just happened.

Why was his memory blanking like this? First he couldn’t remember why he was in the void; next, he was missing an entire day of walking?

What had he eaten? Had he slept?

He frowned, and almost walked back into the tunnel, but as he stepped foot into it, the walls around him lurched, scraping inward. Giving a yelp, Jim removed his foot from the threshold, just in time to watch the hole in the wall close up.

Oh.

Okay.

He was stuck here, then.

…great.

Sighing, Jim hoped to everything that there was another way out, and the only reason that one closed up was because it was a one-way tunnel… for some reason.

Deciding to think more on that in due time, he instead focused on taking in his new surroundings. He couldn’t look for a way out if he didn’t know where he was in the first place.

Heart plummeting, he wasn’t sure he was so thrilled about that decision, though, as his eyes flew to the thing that his foot had just crunched.

Milky white and still fresh—he hissed in panic— it looked like a bone. Going to take a step back, he froze when the crack he’d just heard sounded again, as he felt dust and a sickening grinding beneath the metal heel of his armor.

Breath quickening, Jim stood in place, then, and reached for Daylight. Activating its blue flames, he used it like a flashlight in the dim room, and pointed it at the ground.

And then dropped Daylight, knees going numb.

Mouth dry, he tried not to stumble in his panic, over the pit of skeletal remains he was standing on.

They were everywhere.

Some of them were old and powdery, ancient and horrifying to look at. Others were fresh and gleaming, still wet, some of which had meat left on them, rotting and grey. He was sure he’d seen maggots boring holes into femurs, into knee sockets, into teeth.

Hand flying to his mouth, as he felt his throat seize, and his stomach roll violently, Jim breathed through his nose, a technique his mom had taught him when he was a kid, to help when he’d had trouble with the tongue depressors during his checkups.

Here, though, it didn’t help nearly as much, as the stench of rot and chalky remains flooded his senses. Eyes tearing from the smell, he tried not to gag, as he bent and picked up Daylight, gritting his teeth against the nothing his body was trying to expel.

It felt like he hadn’t eaten after all, but after this, he wasn’t sure he’d ever eat again.

His mind supplied him with the image of that grey, sliming flesh, and all of its rot and chewy sinew, slipping down his throat, and—

The acid burned when it came up, as he fell to his knees with a convulsion.

Choking in a breath, he spat the last of it out, and pushed himself upright. Kneeling on what he really hoped was a cleaner patch of the floor—at least his armor had hand coverings—Jim took a moment to get his bearings, reorient himself.

He could handle this. He could get out of this. He’d faced down his own living nightmare before; he’d defeated Bular, Gunmar, Morgana, and he’d even time travelled. He could get out of there. Jim would find a way, and if he couldn’t, then, he’d make one.

Shoving himself to his feet, he hefted Daylight once more in both of his hands, and started walking along the walls of the room, using what little light he had to search for another tunnel, or a door of some kind, even a window.

Jim wasn’t sure there was one, though, as he finally came to a halt after what might have been closer to three passes around the perimeter. It was hard to tell, but by now, he was certain he’d seen that bone formation before.

His chances of getting out started to feel a little more doomed than they had a few minutes ago, but he refused to give up hope.

Hadn’t they also thought there was no way out of Merlin’s tomb?

They’d found an exit then; he’d find an exit, now.

Having a wise, old wizard’s help would be nice, though, he had to admit. No matter how angry he was at Merlin, he’d take anything the guy could offer him right now, over… this.

This, which was…

He sighed. Not even the Darklands had been this bad.

The bodies were everywhere, and… it was getting hard to ignore—the pull in his chest toward the center of the room. It was getting hard to ignore.

It had been just a little stirring at first, nothing he’d even paid attention to.

Now, it was a desperate longing, an inflamed tug in his sternum, straining against his will, begging him to go and look. Go and see what was there.

It was waiting, just for him.

Somehow, though, as surely as he could feel that pull, he could also feel a draining, parasitic dread, which wormed nauseatingly in his already twisting stomach.

Swallowing in anticipation, he decided to take the risk. The pull was bordering on painful, and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to get out of here without it crumbling his resolve.

Stepping over spongey flesh and brittle tendons, Jim approached the center of the grave, anxiety rising.

As the thing in the center emerged, Jim knew in a crushing heartbeat, like a blow to the lungs, that he’d been right to dread what was there.

His eyes teared again, but this time, it wasn’t from the fumes of death, but from the visage of it.

Draal, with his arms folded over his chest, and a peaceful expression on his face, stood squarely in the center of the room—and it shattered Jim to see.

He felt cleaved down the middle, as his knees fell with a wet squelch into something meaty and writhing. Not that he even noticed.

His hands grazed the stone as Daylight clattered to the dirty floor, abandoned.

“Draal…” Jim wheezed, voice empty and hollow, “Draal, I’m so sor—” He hiccuped, “I’m so sorry.”

Repeating it over and over again, a desperate prayer, Jim sobbed into the decay beneath his friend’s feet, hands becoming fists against the statue’s knees.

No hand was lowered to grip the back of his head and tell him that it was okay. No wry smile emerged to remind him not to make it weird. No warm, gravelly chuckle sounded, to reassure him that he was alive.

The floor collapsed.

Jim’s vision whited out, for just a moment, and when he came to, he was falling.

Tumbling through the sea of remains and death, Jim watched Draal’s statue plummet in front of him, just out of his arm’s reach.

Setting his jaw, Jim swore that he wouldn’t let Draal’s body break again. He deserved a proper rest, a proper memorial, in the hero’s forge with the rest of the Trollhunters—he didn’t care of Draal technically wasn’t one to the spirits—he was a Trollhunter to Jim, and Jim was—

Jim was—

…Jim was—…

Jim was nothing, anymore.

He wasn’t the Trollhunter, anymore.

The amulet at his chest spun its hands wildly, as if it, too, had remembered. Snapping off of him, it hovered in front of Jim’s face, spiraling in the air before him, falling down, down… and then it burst, into a powder that flooded Jim’s mouth with chunks of hardened marrow and clots of blood, thick and bitter.

He coughed, swallowed, and then squinted through the dust, at Draal’s still peaceful form. He had to grab it.

It didn’t look right, to see it at such odds with the rain of death matter around them.

Tucking his arms against his sides, Jim kicked with his feet, going for Draal.

Speeding too hard, too fast, he slammed into his friend, scraping his arms to hell, but—but it didn’t matter. He’d caught him.

He’d caught him.

Jim clung to the statue, wrapping his arms around its neck, holding it to his chest, as they descended lower.

Tucking his head into Draal’s shoulder, he couldn’t see the ground coming.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he couldn’t brace for impact.

When he hit whatever barrier was at the bottom of this pit, whatever it called a floor, his eyes flew open, huge and round, as he felt Draal crumble in his arms, and then—his own arms followed suit, splintering into rough, rocky sediment, along with his chest, his heart, his teeth, his hands.

He laid in pieces on the floor, struggling to turn his head to look at Draal’s face, which had chunked off and cracked down the middle, marring the smile he’d previously been wearing. He looked like he was grimacing now, in pain, furious.

…Jim’s eyes grated shut.

#tw: death #tw: gore #tw: body horror #tw: blood #tw: bodies #tw: grief #tw: angst #tw: nightmares #tw: night terrors #ask #anon

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guessimjoiningthespidermanfandom · 4 years ago

Text

Roses of Melrose

Peter Parker x bisexual!reader

Peter Parker x fem!reader

Peter Parker x black!reader

Peter Parker x villain!reader

Warnings: Language, murder, death, mentions of gangs, gun violence, mercenaries, physical abuse, verbal abuse, parental neglect, drug use, underage drinking, mentions of knives, brief mentions of sex, blood, piercings.

Word Count: 8.4k

Songs: Ultralight beam-Kanye, I love Kanye- Kanye, Good Kid-Kendrick Lamar, Sing about me I’m dying of thirst- Kendrick Lamar, Violent Crimes- Kanye, Apparently- J.Cole, Black Wave- K.Flay, Pretty Little Birds- SZA, Wouldn’t it be Nice- The Beach Boys.

“ It was the way I fought back. It was my first ‘fuck you’ to everyone to everything. It was my best friend. It was my first love. So to you I’m just another girl with another basic rose tattoo but to me. To me? It’s the way I remember it’s the way I keep my friend with me. It’s the way I’d make sure I couldn’t forget the unforgettable”

A/N: Sorry it took so long to finish this school and home got in the way. Sorry If the grammar is off there was only one proof read. Hopefully you enjoy it. Sorry that there’s less Peter in this one. It’s more character building.

Series Masterlist Previous Part Next Part

I had my suspicions about Peter being Spiderman, I mean it was kinda obvious he’s always leaving decathlon meetings according to MJ. They both have the same annoying ass optimism. No one is just that sure of anything. Like ever. Thanks to Liz I’d finally know.

I entered the house having to maneuver past a couple of people standing in the hall past the front door. This party was tame compared to others I’d been to. Flash was DJ-ing he’s so annoying. Liz was cool though she was nice.

I found MJ standing in the kitchen opening a pack of bread holding a jar of peanut butter. When I walked over and said

“Only you would come to a party to just eat bread.”

She only replied with a short “Whatever loser,”

“Hey, Peter Parker. Where’s your friend Spiderman?” Flash announced on the mic.

“Lemme guess with your imaginary girlfriend?”

Peter just stood there stunned

“That’s not Spiderman that’s just Ned in a red shirt,” Okay that one would’ve been kinda funny if he didn’t add that annoying horn sound.

“Shut the fuck up!” I said before smiling at Peter and walking off. I didn't do it for him, necessarily Flash was just annoying. Like I’ve never understood how someone with the grandpa name Eugene could talk so much shit.

I was making small talk with some random senior boy when I heard a high pitched squeal and excused myself to the bathroom. The sound only got louder and louder and louder. It was so painful it felt like Athena should’ve split my forehead and climbed her way out. My vision blurring together made me not able to grab onto anything as I lost balance. I wasn't going to cry,

I wasn't. I couldn’t crying’s pathetic I wasn't going to cry. I could push through the pain. I’ve done it before, that's what I always do. Just when it got so intense I was sure I was gonna pass out it stopped. I did not pass out however I did throw up into the toilet. I looked in the mirror after washing my face off and for a second I could’ve sworn my eyes were glowing. Great now I’m going into a psychotic break why would my eyes be glowing.

I just need some fresh air. Yeah that’s all. I sat there for a while letting my mind wander until I heard MJ’s voice from behind me.

“So this is where you were? I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” She said as she sat down next to me. When I didn’t respond she turned facing me waving her hands my face

“You good?”

I looked up from picking at the grass.

“I’m just tired MJ,” I mean I have every right to be tired there’s a whole fucking gang war going down where I live. Which makes no fucking sense why are people fighting over streets that no one actually owns. The weapons Vulture is selling make me good money, but they’re getting way too close to where my friends lived. I was snapped out of diving into all my problems by a purple cloud in the distance. Hearing the distant squeal slash siren hybrid. I felt my eyes widen.

“What was that?” MJ asked.

Fucking Vulture

ARE YOU KIDDING ME. I told him to stay out of my neighborhood and he came to my friends.

“I don’t know,” I said “Let’s just go back inside,”

As we were walking back to the backdoors I took one glance behind me, and there he was Spiderman heading towards the cloud

“Hey,” I called out walking closer to Ned, “Ned!”

He turned around

“Who me?” He pointed to himself.

“I mean I don’t see any other Neds around were,” I joked

“Oh, it’s you just usually don’t talk to me,” He pointed out.

“Yeah sorry about that,” I said “Actually where’s Peter? I can’t seem to find him,”

“Oh he uh,” he scratched the back of his neck “He had to go,”

“Aw, how unfortunate,” I patted his shoulder “Well enjoy the party I have to go too,” So Ned knew Peter was Spiderman.

“Can I get a ride?” I asked MJ to which she just said

“You don’t have to ask,”

“Just drop me off at the corner store by my house,”

It never felt awkward around MJ. Normally I had to be on high alert around everyone, but it’s never like that with her. This isn't an “honor” many people have but she’s one of the few I feel comfortable falling asleep around. I knew being in the car would make me feel sick so I drifted off.

Shutting the door to the car we said our goodbyes and I headed into the gas station when Mr. William greeted me. I felt a warm feeling in my body. It was nice but short lived and replaced by an emptiness that humans like to call nostalgia. I missed feeling “home” I still lived here. I don’t know why It seems like I don't. I guess it was the fact I’d been giving more attention to Queens and Thorn lately. I know it’s not the projects anymore which I am immensely grateful for but it’s the same neighborhood. According to Briana, one of the like 3 friends I managed to keep I “never come around anymore” or “I’m too good for them”.

I made my way to the bathroom and located the tile I kept my burner phone in. I used to keep it in a shoe box at home until my sister started going through the phase where she feels the need to borrow all my clothes. Stomping on the edge of the tile it flipped up and I grabbed the phone and shoved it in the pocket of my hoodie.

Getting a soda and some gummy worms before I left. I started to walk back to my apartment complex. I went up to sit on the roof of the building just eating my gummies looking. That was something I did a lot just look. When I was younger I couldn’t stand being alone in my own head, but the older I got the more I began to understand why old people would just sit out on their porch doing nothing but looking.

When I checked my phone it was 12:47 and I decided it was time to go back in. First I sent out a message on the burner phone to what I hope to God was the right number.

I headed back down to my room and spent the whole night tossing and turning. When I put on a podcast I slept much easier. I found that the environment I grew up in bred me to not be able to sleep probably without some sort of noise even if it’s just arguing.

I woke up with my phone on my face and my bonnet halfway across the continent. I checked my phone fully expecting to be late but by some blessing I had at least two hours to get ready before I had to leave. The house was quiet like eerily quiet no TV on or anything. I went to wake up the drama queen, middle child, Aaliyah. When I say drama queen I mean both acting and just straight up being dramatic. And then there’s Sapphire who’s the physical embodiment of a Gemini. I flicked on the lights, revealing toys scattered all over Sapphire‘s side of the room. The only response I got was from Aaliyah who simply whined and pulled her blanket over her head. I picked up a pair of rolled up socks and tossed them at her to which she loudly exclaimed

“Ow!”

See what I mean by dramatic but thankfully for me, she woke up Sapphire meaning I didn’t have to step on sharp plastic trying to navigate her side. Not that I could judge her though I can’t remember the last time I had the motivation to clean my room.

I was fully expecting my dad to be passed out on the couch when I walked into the living room but he wasn’t. He wasn’t in his room either. This was nothing out of the ordinary though, he’d probably be back tonight or tomorrow.

One of the perks of my dad being gone was I could use the bathroom in his room to shower and take as long as I want. Another perk of dad not being here is I can take his car today instead of my skateboard. My sisters don't go to a local school but it’s still way closer to our home then Midtown so they don’t have to go so far away. I,on the other hand, have to skate to the bus stop, get on the metro then get on a subway and skate the rest of the way to school.

“Y’all wanna get something to eat?” I asked my sisters once we were in the car.

“Wendys!” Sapphire interjected from the backseat

“No one wants to eat Wendys,” Aaliyah turned around from the passenger to face her. “Get McDonald’s” she demanded, turning back to face me.

“Oh so you don’t want Wendys but you can eat the plastic from McDonald's,” Sapphire asked accusingly.

“Wendy's tastes like shit,”

“You taste like shit,”

“That doesn’t even make any sense!”

I just giggled at the fact this is what they decided to argue about.

“I’m just gonna get somethin’ from Mr. Washington, Since it’s the closest thing to us” was all I said before turning the radio up.

I pulled into the parking lot. Looking at the buildings that look like they should be dead. With their bulletproof windows with anti robbery bars. It’s honestly depressing if you think about it for too long. But these places are nothing but living and bustling no matter what. Like the roses in the cracks of the sidewalk. I left the keys in the ignition once my sister confirmed they weren’t coming inside.

“Hey Y/N,” Mr.Washington’s son said from the kitchen. I believe he’s 18 now?

“Hey,” I nodded my head at him walking towards his father to order.

“Hey, Y/N how are you doing?”

“I’m good how are you?”

“I’m good thanks for asking, you know you look more and more like your mom everyday,” he pointed out and I just smiled. “She was a great kid,”

“Yeah…” I trailed off.

“So the usual?” he asked and I nodded.

I don’t know how but he remembered everyone’s usual orders and knows everyone’s names.

Quick rule of thumb the best food comes in brown paper bags.

Once I was back in the car I had to make the conscious effort not to speed. MJ never goes anywhere when I drive because I “drive like I have nothing to live for” which personally I just think she’s dramatic.

Honestly my sisters are so lucky they go to a local school. I mean yeah the education at Midtown is better than the local highschool, but it’s not like I even belong there. So basically I commute almost 40 minutes everyday to a school I’m not smart enough to go to.

By the time lunch came around I had a terrible headache the smell of my food made me vomit. And no I’m not being dramatic I really had to stop by the bathroom and throw up.

Now I didn’t really feel like walking all the way over to sit at my usual table so I just sat with the school stoners. Yes cliques are real and if this were a movie I’d be one of those clique surfers. Pretty much everyone is a clique surfer if we’re being honest.

I don’t know why they get such a bad wrap stoners have got to be some of the nicest people I’ve ever met. Like this one girl Jessica she gave me one of my first tattoos for free in freshman year when I met her. Since she noticed that I looked stressed, she offered to let me hit her cart. I didn’t even have to ask her

Oh my god I’ll marry you were my exact thoughts at that moment. That I’d apparently voiced out loud because she responded with.

“I’m down. When’s the wedding?”

Her and two guys who were sitting at the table with us made their way to the boys bathroom with me.

After about 3 hits I could feel the life returning to my body as if the rain finally stopped crashing down and the rainbow entered the sky. I could've sworn I heard God say “I’ll never flood the earth again”

“Do you think I’d look good with a nostril piercing?” I asked while examining my nose in the mirror.

“Are you kidding me? You’d look hot as fuck,” Jessica added in.

“You should pierce her nose, J” the guy who was standing closest to the door said. Zach I think.

“Yeah I could do that, do you want me to?” She asked.

I pondered it for a second before the boy who already looked off of cloud nine Tyler I believe his name was interjected with

“She’s really good at it, she did my girlfriends,”

You know what? Fuck it

“Why the hell not,” I said

“Alright,” she said after clapping her hands and walking over to her backpack on the floor. She pulled out a lighter and an earring. She lit the earring to disinfect and I hopped up on the sink and she moved towards the right side of my body. Just as she was asking me where exactly I wanted it we all jumped at the sound of the door creaking open.

Low and behold Peter Parker of all people walked in.

“Uh I was just gonna...yeah,” He stammered out still standing by the door. He was still just staring at me. Now I’m not sure if it was because I was a girl in the boys bathroom, if I looked high, or if it was the fact I was about to pierce my nose in a dirty school bathroom but he was starting to make me feel awkward.

“Can I help you?” I asked.

“Oh,” he said as a blush raised up his cheeks “I’m just gonna,” he pointed to one of the stalls before scurrying into it.

Jessica simply chuckled and called him cute.

By the time he came back out to wash his hands the earring was already pushed into my nostril with a slight pinch. Jessica told me that I’d have to clean the piercing everyday for a couple weeks, which is something I could manage. I hopped down the sink and asked

“Do I look okay?” Referring to my eyes

“Yeah and me?” Jessica asked

“Yeah you’re good,” I reassured her. That was the last thing she needed to hear before her and the other two guys left the bathroom.

As Peter was washing his hands I turned back around to look at my nose in the mirror. It was still a little red with irritation. It was also slightly sore to the touch. I was shaken out of my thoughts by Peter’s voice.

“Did that hurt?” He asked.

He was so adorable.

“This?” I pointed to my nose and he nodded.

“No not really,” I said grabbing my bag off the floor.

“Well this very short convo has been a blast but I gotta go,”

Okay so, I hadn’t been to the class in like forever because of the sheer fear of what would happen cause I skipped it so much. However, my fear of having to confront Olivia is stronger and she was coming towards me so, I ran in through the door. Ugh I’m such a pussy. I saw her walk out of my view. I was gonna turn back out and leave but ,unfortunately I had already locked eyes with the teacher. Looking around at all the students staring at me I just looked back at the teacher.

“Y/N! So nice of you to finally join us,” Ms Warren just had to announce. I simply choose to give a curt nod before she said

“We’re doing a partnered assignment, you can sit by Peter,” She said while pointing near the back of the classroom.

I made my way to the back of the class and slumped into the seat.

“Hey,” I said putting my legs on the empty desk in front of me.

“Hey, didn’t know you were in this class,” Peter pointed out.

“I mean I don’t think I’ve been here since the second week of school? Yeah I’m not sure. So from the beginning of sophomore year to now would be like maybe 1…2...3. No 2, yeah 2.” I went on before realizing I was rambling “Sorry I’m talking too much I’m like tiniest bit faded right now, and okay let me shut up,”

“No, no you’re fine. I like hearing you talk”

“I’ll be right back,” I whispered before raising my hand.

“Yes Y/N?” Ms Warren asked.

“Can I go to the bathroom?”

She sighed “Uh, Yes I guess that’s fine just don’t take to long,”

I grabbed the pass and started down the hallway. I was never planning to go to the bathroom. In all honesty I was going to the freshmans’ lunch cause I’d gotten hungry. I was in the line to get snacks when I felt a buzz in my pocket. I knew it was the burner phone so I got my chips and went outside to the area of the school with no cameras. Looking around to make sure no one was looking. I opened the text. Which read

this T?- B

yes, do you still have it?- T I responded

I do- B

ok meet at usual X and Place- T

ok- B

I’d confirmed my brother could pick up my sisters from daycare. Then I wouldn’t have to worry about them at home when I was doing what I needed to do.

I was trying to keep a low profile. I don't need anyone to claim they saw Thorn tonight. Since I’ve been on the radar of the police more often lately. No one would be looking in an abandoned train cart anyways. I‘d be fine. I just went with a black hoodie and a bandana to cover my face.

But of course Black Cat was in her suit because when was she ever not.

“You sure this is it?” I asked

“Yes I’m sure,” she said and placed the flash drive in my hand. I stuffed it in the pocket of my hoodie.

“Don’t forget what we talked about,” she said pointedly.

“Yeah, yeah I’ve got you,”

Great now I have to get into the government protected flash drive and clear her name. Just as I was about to turn to leave. The sound of someone sliding open the doors to one of the carts.

“Were you followed?” she whispered

“No of course not,” I rolled my eyes

I only had one weapon on me but I knew that Black Cat could handle whoever it was. Although just because she could do this on her own doesn’t mean I was gonna help. I had one expandable baton. Waiting for whoever was here to come in. I got my baton knocked out of my hand.

The fight that broke out wasn’t really a fight if you could even call it that, it was just like 3 guys trying to get the flash drive and us knocking them out. I did however get my fair share of bruises but that’s only because I was thrown into the wall once. I did have a pretty deep gash on my forehead but I should be able to cover it with a headband.

I almost gave myself a heart attack when I checked my sisters’ room because I forgot they were at our brothers house. My dad also still wasn’t home so I was just sitting home alone on the living room floor watching ‘Nick at Night’ with a caked up bloody forehead eating cold leftover spaghetti.

I knew my dad had come home because I heard the keys turning in the door but I was too tired to move.

I should’ve moved.

By the way the door was slammed shut I could tell he was in a bad mood. And what’d he do when he was in a bad mood? Take it out on me.

I don’t remember what happened. I just know he said I looked like a whore and I probably got heated and blacked out, but I do know I was in immense pain and my nose was bleeding and the police were on their way.

Only two things could come from my dad calling the police: I get sent back to the Psych ward or I get arrested. I wasn’t about to stick around to find out which one was going down.

I grabbed my skateboard and took off. Technically he did kick me out so he couldn’t say I ran away.

I can’t exactly recall how I remember where he lived seeing as I hadn’t been there since his girlfriend died.

I was going to knock but I knew he never actually opens the door. I went around to the back and started banging on the window and I’m sure looking at this from an outsider's view it must’ve looked like I was breaking in. Which I’m not sure that I wasn’t. I could see his shadow.

“Open the fucking door, Wade!” I yelled from the door I could see his light was on.

He sleepily strutted down to the door and slid it open.

“What do you- Oh my god you look terrible,” He stated.

“Oh really? Thanks, I didn’t notice,” I spat back pushing past him.

I popped down on the couch.

“I need somewhere to stay for a minute” I said once I was settled in.

He moved over to me and grabbed my face but I pushed his hands away.

“I’m fine,” I lied “Can I stay here though?”

“Did you really think I’d ever say no?”

He examined my face again

“Did your dad do this?” He asked.

He took my silence for the answer that it was.

“Do you want me to kill him?” He asked as what I thought was supposed to be a joke but I was scared to answer yes cause I knew there was a chance he actually would.

He was never very fond of my dad from the moment he’d met my mom. Wade was always trying to keep my mom away from him.

If only she’d listened.

“Yes, I was joking and go clean your face before you get infected”

Oh well I guess I voiced that thought out loud.

I promise I was just looking for the first-aid kit but who was I to say no to a 6 ounce bottle of Hennessy. It was almost as if it’s eyes bore into my soul calling after me because it knew I was too weak to resist.

The sweet burning sensation of it going down my throat was relieving and fun at first until I realized I was turning into my dad. Then it wasn’t so appealing anymore it was just depressing.

The last thing on earth that I’d want would be anything like him. It was pathetic.

It was pathetic how I had to throw up because apparently I couldn’t handle my alcohol.

It was pathetic how I couldn’t even bring myself to stand in the shower.

It was pathetic how I couldn’t even hide the fact I was drunk.

It was pathetic how I broke down crying in front of Wade.

It was pathetic how he had to lull me to sleep by stroking my hair.

It was pathetic because I knew he wasn’t mad.

It was pathetic because it wasn’t anger it was pathetic because it was pity.

Pity. I hated pity with my entire chest. She always seemed to just hold you down underneath the water knowing you couldn’t breath but the feeling around you made you believe you were floating. It’s like the feeling of drowning in the open sea but it isn’t painful but still you know you’re gonna die but you can’t help but look at how beautiful everything around you is. All the fish, the seaweed, the sunlight shining through the water. But still you’re drowning and you know you’re gonna die so how beautiful can it really be?

Pity. That’s what I saw in the hallways so I knew I must’ve looked terrible because no one bothered to say anything negative about me. Everytime anyone looked at me it was like they knew. They knew. They knew that I had a shitty life and a fucked up family. Of course they didn’t but I couldn’t help the nagging feeling that everyone knew.

Everyone was looking at me with a glint of pity in their eyes because I knew I looked like I was going to pass out at any moment now, I had bruises everywhere, I had no makeup to cover them up, possibly had a broken rib, and the gash on my forehead was probably still visible under the sweatband.

Literally everyone looked like they felt bad for me. Except Flash. I never thought I’d say this but, thank God for Flash. The only sense of normalcy I’d experienced all day, was him calling me a witch then acting like it was the funniest thing ever and walking off after I told him to go fuck himself. One thing about Flash is he’s unoriginal. He'll find one “good” joke and use it for the rest of his life. The fact I could put out a lit match in my mouth spread around through a tiktok at some point, and he’s been calling me a witch ever since. I’m assuming the fact I had a pretty gothic style freshman year probably played a part in it too. Major small dick energy right there.

I was on the verge of passing out and all I really wanted was to go out and get high with my old friends but I can never get what I want. Can I? The universe must really fucking hate me.

I just went to the nurses office and slept all throughout lunch but when I woke it was like I was even more tired than before.

I wonder if this is what zombies feel like. I couldn’t tell if it was getting bad again or if I was just getting sick because the lines were blurred between a depressive episode and a cold or the flu. However my eyes were watery and my nose was stuffed so hopefully it was the latter.

The odds had finally aligned in my favor and the class I’d skipped like all year teacher was out. We had my favorite sub who was really just the ISS teacher. Normally I would’ve sat by him and caught him up on all the chisme I had but I felt terrible. So I just leaned on the closest person to me instinctively. Once my brain caught up to my body and I realized. I was laying on Peter's shoulder. I shot it and immediately apologized.

“Oh no, you’re fine I don’t mind,” he said.

Well okay then. I think I slept at least 10 minutes in every single class today. Which is good I’d need it cause I forgot I promised my brother I’d babysit today.

After I sent Wade a text that I probably wouldn’t be back in his house for a while. I went to my brother's house. Sometimes I’m jealous of him for getting to escape our dad and live in an actual nice area. He literally has a house. Like he has his own property, no landlords or anything. Pros of him having a different mom I guess. However he needs to stop having kids. Like yes I love my niece and my nephews however they can be the biggest pain in the ass.

“I get off at like 11, so make sure they don’t break anything or die thanks, and you know where everything’s at, so,” He said, giving me a hug before walking towards the door but right before he opened it he turned around with a smile on his face.

“Oh and don’t get my kids high,”

I rolled my eyes trying to keep the edges of my mouth from turning into a smile. I lost that battle.

“Yeah, yeah whatever asshole,” I flipped him off.

I went into the room where the youngest child was sleeping. Taylon, he was about 1 I believe. At least I wouldn’t have to worry about him for a while. I made it back to the front room where the two trouble makers Kaitlyn and Jason. Kaitlyns the oldest at 4 years old and Jason at 2. Although I don’t think Kaitlyn has ever gotten in trouble like ever because she’s a huge daddy’s girl.

I had like 36 missing assignments for Physics and about 4 things of homework one test to study for, a partnered project to work on, still had to go two decathlon practice 3 days a week, and a flashdrive to get past the firewall of. God could I use some adderall right now.

By distracting the kids in the room with me with the Cocomelon channel.

I’d put my headphones on and nodded along to my music and actually got two homework assignments done in a relatively short time before the screaming started. I went to get Taylon who’d woken up because he peed. I changed his diaper but he was still crying.

I truly did not have time for this. I fed him and everything. Thank God the Cocomelon was still distracting the other kids. Whoever made that channel needs a raise. I could not get him to stop crying for more than 5 minutes. I found if I held him he’d stop but I didn’t have the time to just sit around holding him.

I gave him my phone and let him play with that which shut him up.

Then Kaitlyn decided to come and pester me about food. I made peanut butter jelly sandwiches, but they decided they didn’t want them after I’d already made them. So here I was making spaghetti with a toddler on my hip and doing homework at the same time.

I’d actually gotten used to all this multi tasking that’s when I heard a knock at the door.

I put the spoon back in the pot and closed my textbook heading over to the door.

I open the door to Peter standing there.

“Uh Hello?” I asked more than said.

“Uh, yeah hi, we were supposed to work on the project?”

“Oh shi-” I almost said then remembered I was holding a kid. “Sorry I forgot,” If we're being completely honest I don’t remember anything from school that day nor do I remember telling him to come here but I wasn’t gonna send him away.

“Well you can come in” I announced stepping towards the side of the door.

“Sorry about the chaos” I gestured to everything. ”You can go sit on the couch, I’ll be right over”

He did just that and sat his backpack on his lap.

“Jason, Kaitlyn bebé ven a buscar tu comida”

( Jason Kaitlyn baby come get your food)

They made their way over still attached to the tablet.

“I thought your dad said no tablet at the table?” I said. I wasn’t really going to take it away, I was just teasing.

“I thought you were fun tía,” Jason shot back.

“I am fun!” I said fake hurt and they both giggled.

I slid the plates across the table towards them. “Here eat,”

“¿Es tu novio de ahí?” Kaitlyn asked looking over at Peter.

(Is that your boyfriend over there?)

“No he’s not, but can you watch your brother for me for a little bit?”

She nodded. I shifted Taylon off my hip and slipped him into his high chair and gave him a bag of chips.

Plopping down next to Peter I clapped my hands.

“Okay sorry about the wait, so what do we need to do?”

After explaining the project to me we’d gotten half of it done and Taylon was napping again and everyone else was quiet and watching TV. We probably could’ve finished the whole thing if we hadn’t gone on so many tangents. Peter was actually good at explaining things.

We talked about literally everything from favorite flavors of starburst to life goals and shit. I don't know what I want in life actually. It’d be cool to go to college but it’s expensive and no one else in my family has been.

When it got late Peter announced that he had to go.

“Alright let me walk you out,” I pushed up off the couch.

“You’re really smart, I know you don’t think that but you are,” he said almost out of nowhere once we were out the door. I could feel my face heat up. This is a moment I was thankful for my melanin allowing me not to blush.

“Thank you, you’re not so bad yourself, Parker,”

“So we're doing this same time tomorrow right?”

“Yes, that’s the plan,”

For the past week I’d convinced my brother to let my babysit everyday so I could still hang out with Peter. I never thought that we of all people could be friends. Before this he was so like “Peter” just way too much. Once you get to know him he’s not that bad. We’d finished the project and I still hadn’t done any of my other work but by the power of adderall I’d gotten into the flashdrive. I was too scared to check anything in it, but I did erase Black Cats name from the police station records.

It’d been at least three more days and I hadn’t done any work. I hadn’t talked to Peter or MJ or anyone else either. The one other human I’ve had contact with is Wade. Even with me living at his house it was still minimal. I hadn’t gotten much sleep because adderall keeps you up at all hours of the day but I don’t think I could survive without it.

I knew I had to be walking. I was walking because I had to. I mean I was walking and I had no intention of stopping. I was getting major deja vu. This exact place felt so familiar.

Oh- that’s why.

I was in the projects where I used to live. I was off in Bronxchester off of 156th St. Ann’s Avenue. I hate this place so much.

I hated it.

Having to live in a rat infested one bedroom apartment sleeping cramped up on top of my siblings was literally the worst time of my life. The shitty school University Heights where half the girls were pregnant. Not to mention my dad was on a fucking rage rampage all the time cause he couldnt get a job as a felon.

I was still walking though. I knew I was going somewhere. Not sure where until I’d gotten near the Hartz chicken on the end of the street. That’s where I was going. I knew I was meeting up with my friend. How could I forget that? I was about to cross the street until someone in a grey van rolled down their window sticking out a gun.

I knew she was gonna get shot. There was nothing I could do to stop it. Yet still I was screaming at least I was trying to. I couldn’t find my voice.

By the time I could it was too late.

I’d seen her. The bullets piercing her skin would be something seared into my brain forever. And as fast as the car came it was gone.

Then I was running. I was running to get to her because I could still help her. I had to.

She was bleeding and there was too much blood. It was everywhere. I remember my brother told me if someone is ever bleeding out you need to stop the blood.

I could barely see because my tears were clouding my vision. I was pushing down on her stomach screaming for someone to call 9-1-1. Just to help.

“You’re gonna be okay,” I remember saying it over and over again I don’t know if I was trying to convince myself or her..

The police got here right after I’d watched her eyes gloss over just because that’s how it works in Melrose. Yes she was gone but she was only the first of many. The police had never done anything for me before so why would they start now.

They had to pry me off her. They couldn't, I had to help, I had to… I had to help. She didn’t like to be alone. Yeah sure she’d done bad things but she didn't deserve this. She was just a kid. I was just a kid. They took her phone while I was screaming not to touch her.

They asked for my parents' information. I didn’t want to tell them, I didn’t want my dad. I don’t wanna see him. I just wanted my friend back. They loaded her into the back of the ambulance. I

knew they were driving away. I was running and screaming. I could feel people staring. I knew they were looking at me. I knew they knew. I didn’t care, I had to run. I had to get her. A pair of hands grabbed me from behind and I started thrashing.

I couldn’t, I can’t, I had to help, I had to help her. I was still screaming and my throat was sore. Her blood was everywhere, it was all over me and I couldn’t I couldn’t help her. I couldn’t help myself. I was scared.

“Hey,” I felt myself being shook from behind. “Hey!”

I turned around to Wade’s familiar face.

“I’m sorry for waking you, I know it’s dangerous or something like that but you were just screaming and I got worried,”

Wasn’t supposed to wake me?

“I was,” my voice was small I sounded 5 I felt 5 “I was sleeping walking?”

“Yeah you were” he confirmed, leading me to one of the stools by his kitchen island.

He sat me down, walked off and got me a glass of water. I didn’t realize how bad I was shaking until I tried to bring the cup to my lips.

He brought a towel to the side of my arm dabbing at it. The blood dripped from the side of my wrist all the way down to my elbow.

“What’d you cut yourself on?” He asked and I shrugged my shoulders.

“You know they never even said her name?” I said after we sat in silence for a moment.

“What?”

“Rose you know my friend,”

“Oh…” he said as the realization of who I was talking about settled in.

“Yeah her, they never said her name no one said it around me because they felt I was gonna break, they all just looked at me like I was made out of glass, I don’t even know how people knew I was there. But I was- I was just so angry, ”

I waited to see if he was going to say anything but he didn’t. He was just going to listen, no jokes to lighten the mood just listening.

“Even on the news. To everyone outside of St Ann’s she was just a ‘14 year old girl caught up in gang violence fatally shot’ they used a terrible picture of her too. It made my blood boil that, that was all she got, Then I realized that’s just how it was for us and the only way I was making it out the hood was if it was 6 feet under,”

My mom used to say that’s what they did for black people, used a picture of them looking ‘hood’ some people call it a thugshot. They use a picture that makes them look mean and aggressive. She was neither of those things she was the nicest person I ever knew. She just got caught up in the gang mess because it was the only family she had.

“I’ve never talked about this before, but I feel like everyone just forgot about her like it’s only been 2 years and I’ve never heard anyone say her name. At least not around me” I ran my finger on the tattoo of a rose. “This was the first tattoo I’d ever gotten I did it myself so it’s kinda shitty but I feel like it keeps her memory alive, because if no one else was gonna do it and If wasn’t gonna then who would you know?” I trailed off for a second. Then noticed he was in the Deadpool suit just without the mask.

“Where are you going?” I asked.

“Now I think you know me well enough to know I’m not telling you that,” He smiled and I smiled back weakly.

“You’ll be okay though?” He asked.

“Now I think you know me well enough to know I’ll be okay,” I turned his own words against him.

I glanced back down at the tattoo and I remember looking over the tattoo on my finger for you it means merely nothing. Just another girl getting another basic tattoo. For me it means everything. It was the way I fought back. It was my first ‘fuck you’ to everyone to everything. It was my best friend. It was my first love. So to you I’m just another girl with another basic rose tattoo but to me. To me? It’s the way I remember it’s the way I keep my friend with me. It’s the way I’d make sure I couldn’t forget the unforgettable. Roses are delicate and fragile but they’ll hurt you when you try to pick them. So even the most beautiful of flowers would defend itself if it came to it. To you my rose tattoo is just a flower. However, to me Rose was the most beautiful human this world had ever seen.

Art had to be my favorite subject. Solely for the reason I’ve never had a non chill art teacher, but today it was Physics which is usually my least favorite class.

Only because the class made me feel like my day was turning around.

MJ was standing next to me when I opened by locker and loudly exclaimed

“Yes!”

“What?” She turned to me “What is it?”

“Sorry for scaring you, it's nothing. I just found some candy” I held up the Push Pop “See?”

“Oh if you don’t show up to practice today they’re kicking you off the decathlon team, and make sure you get to class on time though,”

“Of course when have I ever been late,”

She gave me a look that had “really?” written all over it.

“Okay don’t answer that question but I’m going, now you need to get to class you have a test to take,”

I’d taken the test already because I had Harrison’s class on A day, but MJ wasn’t the type to cheat. She was smart enough and didn’t need my help.

She was very smart but she wasn’t smart enough to know the Push Pop wasn’t really a push pop at all.

It was a cart that I thought I’d lost. It was just hidden in an empty Push Pop. Nightmares made me stressed and I know the perfect way to relieve stress. I know many actually such as (good) sex, running, fighting, throwing knives at shit, and weed. Luckily for me this is the last one.

So here I was sitting in the back of the class by the farthest window away from Peter with a “Push Pop” in my mouth and my head down on the desk. I never really paid attention in class but today we were just watching some documentary so I didn’t have to.

One of the students office workers came in and gave a note to the teacher and I figured it was about the new student I heard some of the students talking about here and there. I didn’t think anything of it until.

Briana walked in behind Principal Morita. Briana was my best friend from elementary through middle school and the first half of freshman year before I switched schools. She acted... I didn’t wanna say ghetto but you could definitely tell she was from Melrose if you were from there. I can’t blame her with her dad being a leader to the local set and all.

The teacher told her to introduce herself to the class and she kept it short and sweet. Then she was told to find a seat. I waved her over and she sat next to me.

“I thought you’d forgotten about me,” She said.

I laughed

“As if, you’re the most extra person I know,” I said, taking another hit.

“First of all fuck you second of all give me a hit,” I smiled handing the “Push Pop” over to her.

”Don’t you dare get caught.”

She stuck her head under the table lightly blowing out her mouth then inhaling before the vapours could go too far out.

“So where you been at? Haven’t heard from you in a minute,”

“Been busy with school shit, but I’ve been around,” I responded taking the “Push Pop” from her again.

“How’s your dad?” She asked. I just gave her an incredulous look and went.

“How’s your dad,”

“Same old same old,”

We spent the rest of the class with her catching me up on the people from our crew and reminiscing. Also might be good to mention we finished half the cart. So I was bugging. We both were. I would not have remembered to go to the decathlon meeting if it weren’t for MJ reminding me again. I didn’t really care for the team. I was just an alternative and I was only doing it so I could pass Mr. Harrington’s class because of the extra credit.

Thank God Peter wasn't at the meeting. I hadn’t talken to him since we turned in our project last week. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to talk to him per se. I could just feel myself getting closer to him and I didn't have time for more friends. Because everyone I end up loving leaves me. The more people you let into your life the more people you give the chance to leave. Seeing as I was ‘Thorn’ I probably shouldn’t get close to Spiderman anyway.

Flash was talking about Briana. He didn't say her name directly but I knew he was talking about her. Since he was talking about the new girl. He talked shit about everyone, so I don’t know why this made me as angry as it did. It just rubbed me the wrong way but it did. Seeing as I naturally gave zero fucks and had no impulse control. I definitely had way less control over myself when high. So before I knew it I’d punched him in the nose.

“Y/N!” Liz and MJ yelled simultaneously.

“What the fuck?” Flash screamed, holding his face.

“Fuck you! Fuck you! Fucking daddy’s money ass bitch,” I pointed in my face.

“Y/N enough, go to the office,” Mr. Harrington said.

I could hear Flash calling me crazy as I walked out the room. Which put a smile on my face. The weird thing about principals is that the more you get in trouble the more they like you and the less harsh your punishments. I only got a week of detention which wasn’t too bad but that stupid “so you got dentention” video of Captain America was gonna get extremely annoying.

I was right it’d only been two days and every time I heard it I wanted to rip my head off. By the third day Peter and MJ had both joined me.

MJ didn’t even actually have detention she never did; she just liked to “draw people in despair” or whatever it was that she said. Today she was drawing Peter. It was surprising to see him here. I was scrolling through tiktok. I was going to say something to him but what would I even say?

I grew some balls and I’d said hi. It was just small talk but we still spoke nonetheless. The week was going by so fucking fast. Tomorrow’s the day we’re going to Washington. I did have to spend a lot of my saved money though. I’d spoken to my sisters and they said dad was sober now and he wanted me to come home. Which I’m not sure if I believe. I mean I know he’s sober. I talked to him too but how long would that last. How many times has this happened before? I don’t have time to worry about him.

It seemed like I had only blinked and now I was on the bus to D.C. Now for the next couple of days I gotta stay in a hotel room. Nothing out of the ordinary for me, except now I get to stay with MJ and Bri. I don’t know how I managed to convince Mr. Harrington to let her come.

Peter had almost missed the bus but showed up last minute. Liz was drilling people and MJ was sitting near her participating so I had the seat to myself. Bri was behind me on facetime with her boyfriend who just happened to be my ex. None of it was awkward though since we only dated for like a week and decided we were better off as friends. If we were being honest I was so tired. I felt like shit. Listening to sad music when sad is a set routine of mine so I was listening to Violent Crimes and staring out the window before I knew it I had drifted off to sleep.

Taglist:

@tomdiddlyumptious

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x fem!reader #peter parker x black!reader #Peter Parker x Vigilante!Reader #peter parker x villian!reader #peter parker x bi!reader #peter parker x bisexual!reader #reader x peter parker #peter parker x y/n #spiderman x villian #mcu series #peter parker fanfiction #poc reader x peter parker #peter parker x thorn

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