#she's more worried about Thena | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mygnolia · 2 months ago

Text

to weave my love ⭒ n. riki

⭒ SYNOPSIS -› Riki is good at many things- dancing, making fun of his friends, playing it cool (debatable.), Hell- he’s even good at saving people from falling buildings without getting whiplash. But the things he’s bad at? Well, it’s asking you out to prom, and trying to balance the shared assignment he has with you…while being Spider-man.

⭒ PAIR -› spiderman!nishimura riki x fem-pres!reader

⭒ GENRE -› fluff, banter, action ⭒ TROPES -› classmates to lovers, idiots to lovers ⭒ WC -› 17k (i’m sorry idk why either.)

⭒ INCLUDES -› SPOILERS FOR GREAT GATSBY, cursing, non-graphic injuries (reader discretion advised), yes i made the patching up with first aid kit trope SUE ME!! takes place in a busy city similar to new york never specified, reader is rich, jake and heeseung are seniors and riki’s a junior, is riki stupid? yes… jake reveals stuff because he is also a little silly, reader wears a red dress!

⭒ GREAT GATSBY -› basically jay gatsby has this weird amt of money but no one rlly knows how he got it (nefarious reasons) and hes been in love with this girl daisy for five years but then she got married to tom buchanan but he gets rich so he can get the house across from her and wistfully watch her and he pines after her like CRAZY but he dies at the end

⭒ REN SAYS...special huge fat kiss to thena @sensitively-taken you will be in the will when im a millionaire THANK YOU for helping me with so much of this I WUV U AND I WLL BE WAITING FOR UR HUENING FIC!!! | LIBRARY

NISHIMURA RIKI MIGHT DIE FROM PRE-ADULTHOOD STRESS, IF THAT’S EVEN A THING.

What exactly does Riki have to worry about as a seventeen-year-old junior in high school? Right now, his most daunting responsibility is catching up on the chapters of The Great Gatsby because the only thing Riki’s actually read from the novel is that the main character shares a name with his best friend and senior, Park Jay. His second most daunting responsibility is handling the fact that with the new seating chart in his Literature class, it means he’s sitting next to the object of his very subtle affections, you.

See, the problem with having a crush on you is that Nishimura Riki’s committed to thinking that you’re way out of his league, and unfortunately, the boy believes that almost too well. Not only are you minted beyond his wildest dreams (having seen your posts on social media), but you’re hardworking, helpful, and dedicated to your role as student body treasurer. He’s already understood that you’d never go for a guy like him. Maybe someone more like Park Sunghoon, whose parents’ salary matches yours. If Riki lived in a rural estate with generational wealth, handling the whole ‘Spider-Man’ thing might be a bit easier for him, considering he wouldn’t have to try so hard in school. It might even change the fact that Riki dealt with some alleyway criminals last night and is currently catching up on lost sleep, as your English Literature teacher goes on and on about a project on the book you’re reading.

In class, and even sometimes outside of the classroom, your small tendency to not pay attention to your surroundings has landed you in some awkward situations—like now.

“I don’t really tell anyone this, but I hate Daisy.�� And instead of getting a response, you glance over to see Nishimura Riki slumped on the desk. Without trying to make preconceptions about what could land him in a situation like this, you poke his arm, stifling a smile at how his eyes widen when you’ve caught him rubbing the very obvious sleep from his eye.

“Sorry,” he whispers, still fighting the post-nap grogginess, “Did I miss anything?”

(Nope.)

Shaking your head, you return your attention to your teacher as he continues to answer questions. The second Mr. Yoo assigned a report, you wanted to die even more considering the work you had to do on top of the impending due dates. But for it to be partnered? And for you to get seated and paired with the one boy who's known for not caring about school? Maybe things are a little stacked against you, but there has to be a reason why Riki’s somehow still passing all his classes…right?

Considering it’s the last assignment about the book, you’re glad that you already read it so many times to know what you want to put into words. And in retrospect, answering a few open-ended questions about it can’t be that hard—the hardest part would be getting your partner to stay awake in class.

A small tap at your side makes you turn to face Riki, who you see has frantically written a page full of notes about the project in the past three minutes and how he can succeed. “Can you go over the first part? Sorry…I was…y’know.”

“It’s a partner project. And we’re partners.” You wince at the awkward wording.

Great! Riki was caught sleeping and that was your first impression of him for your paired assignment? Riki feels so stupid in front of you right now—in front of your meticulous notes with annotations and proper highlighting. He wants to curl up into a ball when he sees you glance over at his haphazard attempt to look like he was paying attention when, in truth, he was trying to remember the dream he had just ten minutes prior. When you offer him a small smile and nod, leaning over with your notebook in hand, he sighs in relief, thanking whoever it was that let him get away with his naps without the consequence of irritating you afterwards.

The bell rings when Mr. Yoo stops talking, and you pause, startled by the sound. Instead of leaving, however, you pack your bag and shuffle to his side of his desk, continuing to parrot details about your report in hopes that it all makes sense. You need to make sure he knows what he’s doing.

“I think one of the questions he mentioned was like ‘Is Gatsby a good person?’ and do you remember how in Chapter Eight…” The rest gets zoned out and forgotten in the boy’s head, because he in fact does not know what happened in Chapter Eight. He doesn’t know what happened…in any part of the book. But he agrees anyway, pretending like he understands what scene you’re trying to explain. What he notices is how thorough and dedicated you are towards ensuring he comprehends what you’re explaining, and although it could be because you don’t want him to fail you both, he chooses to believe you’re doing it because you tolerate him.

You’re so engrossed in covering all the little details and telling him random tidbits regarding the book that you don’t realize your feet have made it all the way to the cafeteria. “But here, let me get your number. I’ll totally explain more over text.”

Riki is definitely not freaking out when he silently grabs his phone and hands it to you with the contact page, staring a little longer than necessary at the cute smiley face you added to your name. “Thanks,” he mumbles, forcibly tearing his eyes away from the ten digits of your number, “For helping me with this, too.”

“Of course! The Great Gatsby is a fun read for me. A little hard to read sometimes because of some of the characters, but still easy to understand.” And Nishimura RIki realizes that he has to do well. He’ll read the book five times over if it means gaining your approval.

Jake notices something a little different about the tuft of black and blonde hair when his friend walks in. The first thing is that he’s actually here, and that you’re next to him, smiling. The boy rubs his eye to make sure he’s not dreaming somehow, but when he looks up again, you’re waving goodbye and joining your friends across the room.

“Did you get hit with something while fighting a villain that makes you more bold? I feel like I just saw you and ____ talking,” Jake starts when Riki finally joins him with his lunch.

Riki laughs, shoving Jake’s head out of embarrassment and opening his chips. “It’s just school. Got some project in English and she says we’re partnered.” He looks over at his friend chuckling, rolling his eyes at how Jake pokes at his side and wiggles his eyebrows.

“I better hear you two are dating by next week.”

“Who’s dating by next week?” Heeseung places his bag of food in front of them and takes a seat, opening the fast food he got last period and stuffing a fry in his mouth.

“Riki and ____. Let me have one,” Jake answers, reaching inside the bag.

Heeseung looks over at his junior curiously. “You asked her out?” And the two older students hear a groan from the boy in question.

“Me and ____ aren’t anything, for your information.” He prods at the vegetables on his tray and takes a bite before a look of displeasure washes over his face. “You’re both way too excited for two guys who do not have girlfriends.”

“Hey! You know the girl I’m always fighting with is the reason why I’m single. I have to focus on studying to do well in school to do better than her.” Heeseung’s whining falls on deaf ears as Riki smiles victoriously, seeing how defensive the former got.

Jake offers him a shrug of defeat. “I got nothing.”

The three of them fall into normal conversation and Riki finally explains everything that happened during English. “So you’re telling me your plan to ask ____ out went down from 18 months to 6?” And with a nod from the younger, they both groan once more. Heeseung exclaims, “We’re both going to graduate, dumbass. Make the plan go down to like…two months? Please?”

Jake cuts in before Riki has a chance to respond. “Make it one and a half, so we can see you with a prom date before leaving forever.”

“You act as if you’re going to die after graduation. It’s like you’re begging to be a super senior.”

And they’re silenced immediately.

“Do you think the guy I was with earlier hates me?” you ask on the other side of the room. Minjeong stares at you blankly, waiting for your explanation. “I don’t know if you saw when I walked in but I was talking to this really tall guy with blonde hair and black tips. He seemed really out of it, like he kept staring at me and nodding. I think I scared him off by talking about the book too much.”

Sunghoon, who is also listening in, opens his neatly packed lunchbox and begins mixing his noodles. “I think you did scare him off, ____.”

“Not helping,” Minjeong interjects, “Just talk to him more and maybe he’ll warm up to you. You two sit together in class anyways, so hopefully he’ll talk more?”

“I know him,” Sunghoon comments, “Well, sort of. I’m friends with Jake who’s friends with Riki, and it seems like all that boy does is sleep.”

“Maybe he’s really good at subconscious in-class comprehension?” you try, taking a bite of your sandwich. “I just hope it doesn’t interfere too much with treasurer stuff.”

NISHIMURA RIKI MIGHT DIE IF HE SWINGS INTO ANOTHER WALL AT 100MPH LIKE HOW HE ALMOST DID TONIGHT.

All he’s had on his mind since school ended till now is how he should probably text you, if he really discarded the slimy acid monster from last week properly, and when the prom theme is going to be released, but there’s something amiss that confuses his spidey-senses and makes Riki much more alert.

He snaps out of whatever train of thought he had before, focusing on the situation at hand and looking around to follow his instinct. Riki cautiously plants himself on the side of a random apartment building to get a sense of what's going on. A tingle of some sort of in the air permeates the material of his suit and leaves him shivering from the cold.

He doesn't like it one bit.

Moving to the side of the building to the top, the boy finally catches a glimpse of something when he gets a decent view of the city and highway systems. Riki knows something’s wrong with the bridge the closer he gets. He zips from one side of the tall, metal tower to the other, crawling down on all fours making sure he isn’t caught. He feels the electric feeling once more, only amplified. It runs up his spine and he wants to slap it, almost like a frantic, summertime bug. The air around him is charged with something he has never recognized before. With a puzzled expression under his mask, Riki continues to investigate the surrounding area.

Riki finds a lone figure with some sort of attachment to his left arm, like a long glove made out of metal. The bulkiness of it seems to have no impact on his body as the man fiddles with the contraption, and the boy watches with bated breath as the machine fizzes and spurts with electricity. It begins to glow as power concentrates on his plated palm and the superhero sees it for the first time. It’s like a fizz, like a match striking at fire only to produce a quick burst of friction, but it almost feels liquid when he watches the person play with the flickering blue ball of electricity. It dances in the dark in a hauntingly beautiful way, with bolts jutting out from the metal as it spurts and buzzes with a life-like manner.

A spark.

“Hey, what the hell do you think you’re doing?” The sound of Riki’s voice from the end of the bridge causes the stranger to look up with wide eyes. Although Riki fully expects it to simply enhance strength or block damage, the immediate strike of blue that flies straight towards him is anything but defensive. With a yelp, he jumps away, this time refusing to show himself.

What the hell was that?

He knows he should go back down there to change things and get the person and the metal pieces away before it escalates, but when he goes back down to watch, it's ten times worse. The bright blue illuminates the scarred face of the villain as he’s picked up the metal arm–but this time, it’s no longer clunky and sparking, but fused into his arm.

Riki’s face pales at the sudden change before his body acts on its own and he shoots out a web to stop the man.

The villain is shocked by the intrusion, but quickly yanks free from the webbing and flicks another bolt of electricity, one that flies much faster now that the metal flows into the arm instead of simply resting on the skin. It’s unlike something Riki has ever seen, something that is so controlled in motion and yet so erratic in nature, and it instills a deathly fear when it grazes his arm he hisses in pain. The sharp feeling springs Riki into action as he jumps away. He’s lucky another bolt isn’t sent his way, seeing how the villain’s too busy marveling at the power of his new gadget.

“You know that fucking hurts, right?” He yells out, cupping his wound. “Maybe leave the gadgets to the kids!”

The man scoffs. “It better have hurt. I sacrificed half my body for this to work.”

“But why?” All Riki wants is answers. Some sort of explanation.

The man charges up yet another bolt, almost like a laser gun is built into the machine. “Less talking, more running, Spiderman.”

That scared the shit out of him.

The boy doesn’t have time to think as he jumps out from the dark tunnel to the bridge and up the metal towers—he hates having to fight with people right below. The villain follows in pursuit, almost crumbling the metal with his engineered arm as he hoists himself quickly. Riki continues to jump between the structure to avoid the flashes, trying to get out and apprehend the man as quickly as possible. When he reaches the top, however, he feels death is near as he glances down at the villain below who’s quickly gaining on him. He shoots out webs to slow him temporarily, letting himself fall and swing from the side of the tower to escape.

What he doesn’t see on the way across the bridge is the flash that misses his cheek and hits his thigh instead. It burns, and mid-air, Riki gives the wound a quick assessment before he lands on the metal, immediately forcing his body to climb. While dealing with his wound, he fails to notice the villain swinging from the bridge support lines to meet him.

He needs to end this fast before he becomes burnt toast.

Riki doesn’t often rely on instinct to carry him, but he can tell that the villain he’s facing isn’t just a criminal.

“Land another hit, would you?” he tries to say, his voice strained from the pain in his arm and leg. It doesn’t do much to deter the man in front of him as the arm continues to destroy and bend the metal on the way up. “What are you going to do now, Sparky?”

The man says nothing, charging energy into his metal glove again before aiming and focusing on the target: him.

Riki jumps off, not able to properly land his web in the right spot as he goes from one section of the bridge to the other. The man behind him looks enraged at the boy’s attempt to escape—so much so that he reaches out with his normal hand to try to grasp the suit when Spider-Man swings past him. Instead of the feeling of fabric, the villain feels sticky spider fluid on his fingers. Riki shoots out a web, one that curls around the villain’s wrist and drags him off the tower. Instead of being able to launch him into the surrounding waters, the man slips from the poorly shot-out webs and falls from mid air into the sea of frantic cars, including one semi truck that collides directly with his arm. In the air, the boy winces when he hears honks and shouts from the impact, hoping it’s the last time he’ll have to witness it.

With his gaze trained on the falling figure, the weakly attached web breaks, and Riki all of a sudden starts falling down as well. He curls up defensively before bracing for impact, curling into himself when he feels the metal dent and the truck driver scream from outside of the parked vehicle, the body of the villain right in front of it.

Riki staggers, holding onto his arm and thigh the best he can before getting up. With wobbly steps and a small jump, he lands near the unconscious man, whose metal arm is cracked and fizzling—something that Riki knows is bound to leave more scars.

“Call the police. I’ll get rid of the pieces.” Although Riki wants to figure out who the criminal is and make sure he’s properly apprehended, the gashes in the boy's limbs leave him winded and exhausted. With hot metal scraps bound together by webbing in his hands, Riki swings out and dumps it somewhere rural, trying his best to cover the pieces with the pounding headache that

Riki revisits the secluded spot under the bridge, looking for clues to the man’s identity, and his expression falls when he notices a lanyard dangling near a trash can.

His name, his position, and the company. FLiGHT Corp. The company name caught the boy’s eye, and he pockets the item before leaving.

It seemed like he was a normal research scientist, but Riki’s recollection of the scars and tattered skin leaves him retracting his last thought. He heard something about the failure of a time travel machine at FLiGHT, and if the mass of the incident was anything to go by, he was in the center of it.

No matter how many times Riki tries to get it out of his head, on the way home, all he can think about is the inexperience he displayed and the lack of response he gave Riki during the whole time. But Riki can’t bring himself to really take away someone’s life—and maybe for that, he’s a horrible superhero.

He knows he should stop the man before it's too late, and especially with how many self-proclaimed villains there have been, it's not easy to see so many innocent people ruin their lives chasing a power that inevitably consumes them. He knows it’ll only get worse if he lets them run free.

And while the superhero has never been fully honest with himself, there are many times where Riki hates his role as Spider-Man, and wishes that he was just some teenage boy who didn't have the lives of others in his palm. He wishes he didn't have to sacrifice so much to stay behind a mask—and he wonders deep down if there’s anyone else who felt the same.

His swings lead him across the city above hundreds of lives he has to protect, and he tries to find some semblance of peace. He thinks about how he has his homework due despite having just risked his life, he thinks about how your project is going—and about you.

In the night under the stars, Nishimura Riki wishes for something just a bit normal. He wishes a good night for himself, but also for you, wherever you could be.

NISHIMURA RIKI MIGHT DIE FROM TRYING TO READ THIS BOOK IN ONE NIGHT.

The Great Gatsby is exactly like how you described it; a little hard to get through but fun with the plot’s eccentric characters. He’s pretty sure he could’ve just used a detailed SparkNotes explanation for the book, but having a crush can make someone do weird things. And in Nishimura Riki’s case, his infatuation has got him reading a novel about morally-skewed characters and rich society to impress you.

When you come into class barely on time, Riki gives you a confused look when you sit down, but doesn’t comment on it any further. Instead, he takes out his book and tries to act like his eyes weren’t closing shut from exhaustion by the time Daisy was finally confessing how she loved Gatsby.

The moment Mr. Yoo stops talking, however, Riki isn’t asleep—much to your surprise. He has his book out, pages filled with sticky notes and a whole section of his notebook dedicated to characters (written in bright red to keep him awake) and their traits.

“I got it.” It’s the first thing he says when you two are left to do in-class work. It’s ominous, and maybe a little too enthusiastic in a high school literature class for a boy who doesn’t even care that much for school, but you’ll accept it with open arms if it means you get a helping hand on your project.

“Continue,” you tell him slowly, leaning back in your chair to listen to him. And you don’t know why, but a small part of you thinks that the boy who sleeps every period the book was discussed wouldn’t have much to say or contribute to such an open-ended prompt, but life is full of surprises.

What you fail to notice is how Riki is nervous and his stomach does at least twenty flips before he swallows dryly and starts rambling in hopes to impress you and redeem himself from his embarrassing slumber a few days ago.

“So you know how our prompt is based on one character and basically all their actions?” he asks, and you nod, absentmindedly thumbing a sheet in your journal. “I’m thinking we should talk about Jay Gatsby because so much is revealed to us about him that we might as well use it to our advantage. Y’know, talking about how the theme of exploitation and secrets is veiled under Gatsby’s desire for Daisy.”

“You don’t think Gatsby’s a good character?” Riki wants to tell you that Gatsby is more relatable than good or bad, but he shakes his head.

“I mean, not really.” He feels like with those four words, he’s completely changed the trajectory of his relationship with you from a positive slope to completely downhill—and a wave of panic washes over him. “Should I? I mean, I could see him as more redeemable if you gave me examp-“

You wave your hand to quell his worries. “To be honest, I don’t like him either. But he’s an interesting main character to write about, so I think we should go with your idea.”

To win your approval feels like he’s won at least three fights against a villain in a row without getting any bad injuries—it feels good. And for the rest of the period, you are able to finish a detailed outline of your work for the next few weeks, mapping out sections for each other, and he even gets to see a part of prom planning on a word document you had open. He considers your shared productivity a win when he packs up and bids you goodbye before leaving for lunch.

One wave doesn’t catch Riki’s attention from across the room. Not even two, or three calls of his name could get Nishimura Riki out of his thoughts, and Jake frowns before moving up in the lunch line.

“Something’s caught your eye again.” Jake feigns innocence and sighs dramatically as he places the food down next to Riki’s plate. “Could it possibly be our school treasurer?” Jake laughs, leaning over to catch a glimpse of what’s got his friend so entranced and non-responsive.

Riki scrunches his nose, annoyed, but never breaking his gaze from where you’re sitting. “We talked in class–like, a lot,” is all he says, paying his friend no mind. “She’s genuinely so understanding.”

“God, I don’t think you can be any more down bad for her than you are right now.” Jake picks at his food, and despite his concentration directed towards the olives on his pizza, he’s able to dodge the flying loaded nacho that goes his way, even if he wasn’t the one with superpowers.

“Can you shut up?” Riki grumbles, laying his head on his arms as he notices you smile and point to something. “I just got pummeled into a semi truck last week. Let me have this before I die tomorrow.”

“Very grim,” his friend notes, ruffling the younger’s hair, “I think this is exactly what all of those mental health assemblies that we get are for.” And Riki basically tunes him out, too tired to fight and too used to the teasing remarks to come up with anything useful in response.

Riki sits up a bit, letting his head rest on his propped elbow as he looks at the school food and touches another nacho gingerly. “Y’know, I read the book for English so she wouldn’t think I’m an idiot.”

His friend snickers, successfully pulling out yet another sliced olive from the cheese, much to the disgust of Riki. “She probably already thinks you’re an idiot.”

The superhero debates throwing another cheesy nacho in Jake's face, before deciding to eat it instead. “Don’t say that asshole! You make it seem like I have no chance with her.”

Jake shoots him an exasperated look that makes Riki break eye contact. “That’s because you don’t.”

“I’ll prove to her that I’m worth her time.” Riki says somewhat wistfully, still stealing glances from a few tables away. “Maybe I’ll ask her out to prom, show up in my suit. Do that cheesy upside down kiss shit people say Spiderman does.” When his friend raises an eyebrow at him, Riki shrugs. “I will! Well-maybe not the Spider-Man thing, but prom definitely.”

Jake continues to look at him unconvinced as he takes a bite out of a slice of pizza with mangled cheese. “You barely talk to her in class and you think you can ask her out to prom as Nishimura Riki?” And the younger grins, eyes still stuck on how your eyes crinkle and how your shoulders shake with laughter.

“Yup.” And his fate is sealed, just like that.

“What’s your project about, anyways? Didn’t you tell me last night that she gave you her number? Must be pretty serious if she wants to text you.” Riki furrows his eyebrows and shakes his head.

“It’s just tying the theme of the book to one character and writing about how they show it. So we did the theme of money and Gatsby, because it’s easy and mentioned so many times.”

Jake gawks. “You must really like her,”

“I was planning to read it regardless of who I was partnered with.”

“Okay- that’s debatable.” There goes another one of Riki’s nachos.

“Gross.”

He thinks things are going pretty well for you two. The report is being written and your quotes are basically finding themselves, so Riki should give himself a pat on the back for pitching the initial idea for how to go about your assignment. Maybe reading the whole book offered him a few useful pointers, and he goes to sleep that night satisfied with your progress. Maybe Heeseung and Jake were right—maybe he could finally ask you out by prom.

NISHIMURA RIKI MIGHT DIE TRYING TO SAVE THE CITY FROM YET ANOTHER MONSTER TERRORIZING THE STREETS.

He wakes up the next morning, not expecting his alarm to alert his senses to danger. It rings in his head and makes him feel delirious, trying to shake sleep off as he looks out the window for any visible sign of what's wrong. If he could hear the danger in his head then that meant someone could be hurt, and he could go to school without a few hours of sleep if he worked fast enough, right?

Riki slips into his suit without much thought and goes to crack his window open, only to look back at his clock and read the horrific time of 6:23AM.

Who the hell picks a fight with a teenager at this ungodly time?

Then, he shoots from his wrists, once, twice, and suddenly, he's off, covering more ground through the air in just three seconds than he ever could while walking or running for minutes on end.

The source of his tingling spidey-sense is some large metal centipede creature that was setting off car alarms in a neighborhood near the market. Thankfully, no one was really awake to be caught in the crossfire, but he has to figure out how the hell he's going to catch that thing in...he checks his watch…twenty minutes?

Hopefully, his instinct will help him win this time—again.

The web he shoots out does nothing to stop the monster, and considering how it connected them both, the threads only drag the superhero to the edge of the building he was initially watching from. With some yelling and pulling, he finally detaches, and realizes that the odd sizzling feeling in his bonds must be from the same source as a few days ago; Spark.

He had this gut feeling that a villain as strong as him wouldn’t have been destroyed so easily, but his wounds were so deep and the blood loss so bad from a few nights ago that he couldn’t have truly dumped him in the ocean without fainting or suffering something permanent, and although Riki hoped things in the universe would work itself out, the presence of the giant fifty foot insect alone is proof that things were not in his favor.

He jumps off the building onto another, working quickly as he strings up a few webs between the houses as a wall for the monster, watching it slide and knock over cars in its wild pursuit. The monster spends a few seconds breaking down the wall of webbing and climbing over it, the many legs easily breaking through. As the superhero jumps across buildings and keeps track of the centipede’s movement, he has no idea why it isn’t going for him, and that makes his job much harder without the attention of the monster. One glance at the direction the centipede is headed in sets off another ding in Riki’s head—but this time, it finally clicks why the centipede is headed away from the boy.

It’s attracted to the power plant.

Riki immediately jumps and swings off of a lamp post, using the momentum of gravity and the force of his swing to propel him faster than the slithering creature. Squinting, he holds out his fist and points his pointer and pinky out, following the movement of the centipede as he aims.

Bam.

He sends clusters of silky white threads down precisely at the first pair of legs to pin it down. The webs stop the creature momentarily, and Riki doesn’t have time to watch how the body shrinks up and fizzes out with blue shocks as it tries to wiggle loose and malfunctions. This fight would be over soon, and the boy smiles when he jumps down to shoot more webs to apprehend the centipede. It wiggles and sends electricity out through parts of its body, trying to pry itself out. He expects it to simply be a robot of sorts following a mission considering its avoidant behavior, but as he approaches the tail, the monster suddenly swings at Riki, and its mass and speed is incomparable to the boy’s reaction speed.

Riki lands into a tree and someone’s garage, feeling the crumbling wall falling all over him and the sudden pain blooming in his lower back.

This fight will, in fact, not be over soon.

With his superhuman abilities, Riki grabs onto the metal of the car beside him to hoist himself up, coughing from the dust, and jumping over the rubble to see how quickly the centipede creature can get out, without regard for his current state. The sound and rumble of the giant monster is all he needs to know that the traps are effective, but not at the previous capacity.

The plan is simple: apprehend the legs and crush the head, where Riki assumes the decision-making and programming is taking place. But the monster’s angry and erratic actions throw a wrench in his plan. Its legs move faster, digging into the cement and leaving ruin in its wake as it continues down the road. While both the villain and superhero are fast, the distance between the power plant is finite—and only grows smaller and smaller.

Although Riki can feel the bruises coming, he runs and swings, hearing the wind in his ears as he catches up to the centipede in no time. He tries the same tactics again–aim, shoot, stick, all the while keeping his distance. Although the monster’s body spans incredibly long, and should carry an immense amount of weight, the way it snaps at Riki’s flying body and sends shockwaves through his core leaves him shivering as his body slams into the ground, coughing. It hurts all over, and it feels like there’s weight on his eyes when he tries to open them and get up. His head is spinning as he staggers onto his knees, clutching his chest as he watches the centipede shrivel and crackle.

It seems like the voltage produced is a double-ended sword, one that burns up the centipede body as much as it deals damage, and with the way the mutant creeps towards the electricity of the plant, Riki gets the feeling there’s a magnetic pull that forces the mutant to continue to crawl even against its instinct to stop.

Despite his waning strength, however, Riki knows better than to half finish the job like last time. He creates a net from experience, weaving together the thickest and most durable threads to trap the entirety of the slowly approaching creature. It seems to crawl slowly up the makeshift barrier, knocking its head against the white and spreading the bright blue waves of its energy throughout. The boy watches as the thin white mass absorbs all of it and clings to the creature. It works, finally, after his attempts to nullify its movements, and he knows that despite the ache in his every step, the almost mummified centipede that hangs between several roofs for all the neighbors to gawk at is his sure sign of victory.

All he remembers is hearing a familiar call of his hero name before his legs give out and his head hits Jake’s chest.

Holy fucking shit is the first thing Riki thinks when he wakes up.

He’s not out of his tattered suit and he feels grimy all over, but his body has done wonders in reducing the otherwise fatal injuries he got. No human body should be able to withstand two energy-filled blasts, but his suit and superhuman healing are of greater help than ever in alleviating the damage from his wounds.

He knows why he’s in his bed with bandages thrown over his open wounds. He knows that every time something like this happens, it’s Jake who shoos away the concerned civilians, telling them he’s a medic. Jake is not a medic—rather, he’s a seventeen year-old boy who knows about his friend’s double life and with all the times he’s saved Riki, someone might as well dub him the greatest medic of all time.

The clock on his bedside table has only served as a bearer of bad news. He looks over to see how it’s practically midday, and he’s missed yet another day of school from fighting crime. He’s in no condition to get up or get his bag, seeing how his hair is frizzy and his cheek has a cut that would warrant questioning. It seems only fair that he stays absent, and before he falls back asleep, he only prays you aren’t too mad at him for leaving the seat next to you empty.

But you aren’t mad, just worried. The soreness in his muscles doesn’t go away though, and he groans when he sits up in his bed, with bandages around his arms and an ice pack discarded next to him.

He’s most definitely not coming to school like this.

While you bore holes into the clock hanging off the wall, that doesn’t speed up the time. Two minutes pass, then another minute. As your classmates find their partners and begin discussing, you notice how the room gets louder with the due date looming near. It’s the first time you’re alone without the familiar boy beside you, and something hangs low in your chest when you put in a pair of earphones and open your laptop.

Riki’s absence should have no effect on you. After all, you’re both just high school students who’ve talked once or twice, and yet you still look over at the empty chair. Staring doesn’t make Riki appear, though, and you return to your edits. It feels empty without his insight, or without him asking you to help him with a passage. Riki was your solution to all things boring. If he wasn’t doing his work, then you two were laughing at something on his phone. And if you agreed to both do something other than the report, then you could ask for an extra opinion when deciding prom details. There was something freeing about working with him that attracted you. Riki knew how to lighten the mood on days that weren’t so good for you, but he also worked hard and let loose at the same time. There was a perfect balance in Riki’s life that you aspired to have; it was a good mix of playful, dedicated, and fun all in the same vein.

The words blend together on your screen. Jay Gatsby this, Tom Buchanan that, it all looks monotonous the more you keep trying to read and comprehend what exactly you’re talking about.

Before class is dismissed, Mr. Yoo steps to the front of the classroom to gather everyone’s attention. He introduces your new novel for the next month, explaining yet another large assignment associated with the text.

Truth be told, you don’t pay attention to any of it.

The only thing you remember to do is to grab extra copies of the printed graphic organizers, as you get out of your seat and rush out when class ends in pursuit of one specific boy.

“Sim Jaeyun!” The call of his name diverts Jake’s attention from his phone to your waving arm as you weave through the students and finally reach him.

“You can just call me Jake,” he explains, “what’s up?”

You begin to reach into your backpack, trying to feel for your folder, and pull out a few sheets. “These are for Riki.”

Jake cheers internally for his friend who’s busy recovering at home. “What, you got a crush on him or something?”

He tries to play it cool by teasing you, but the smile you bite back leaves the boy questioning if there really is anything going on. Jake knows better than to tell you anything about Riki’s feelings, and opts to instead grab the papers and to thank you for looking out for his friend.

“Is Riki okay?” You have to know, just to make sure he’ll be here tomorrow to cure your boredom.

What Jake says is much different than the nonchalant wave and half grin he gives you. “He’s just bedridden.”

“That’s pretty serious! Did he come down with anything?” He seemed fine yesterday, so what’s the catch?

He blurts, “He just got badly hurt.”

Immediately, Jake knows he’s fucked up.

Your confusion and silence answers him far more than words ever could–he basically hears the gears turning slowly in your head.

Jake weakly defends, “His parents had a fight with him because he hit his head or something. He’ll be fine by tomorrow. Just bedridden from sadness, y’know?”

The look you give him is unconvinced, but when Heeseung pats him on the shoulder and waves to you, the boy realizes that maybe staying quiet would’ve been the better decision.

“I’ll see you later, ____.” And he’s off, waving half-heartedly and dragging a very confused Heeseung out of the cafeteria.

NISHIMURA RIKI MIGHT DIE TRYING TO WAKE YOU UP AS GENTLY AS HE CAN.

Ever since March started and flowers began to bloom, your energy seemed to do the opposite, dwindling until Riki catches you mirroring his frequent in-class action: sleeping. And it worries him beyond belief, because you’re not the type to fall asleep like… ever. However, Riki does not have the heart to wake you up, even if it’s with a little nudge that you probably barely feel with how light he taps. It breaks his heart to have to ask you to review what he has done, because the bell is about to ring and the teacher might just send you to detention if he catches you off-task.

The allergies always make Mr. Yoo irritable, and Riki knows not to get on his nerves.

Your eyes flutter open to the pokes and prodding from none other than Nishimura Riki, who gazes at you softly when you adjust to the bright classroom setting once more.

Panic settles in. “Wait- how long was I sleeping for?”

He shrugs and scrunches his nose, not giving you an answer as he finishes scribbling something in his notebook.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry.” Your hand squeezes into a fist at the frustration that you’ve let your partner down.

And yet, Riki seems to be unfazed, frowning when he sees you stressing out. “Don’t ever sweat the little things, yeah? If there’s anything you ever need to talk about–trust me, I know what it’s like to have a lot of pressure on your shoulders.”

Smiling at him, you respond with, “Thank you, really.”

Being treasurer is daunting in the spring. It’s full of requests, forms, and small tasks that leave you spent by the end of the day. “But,” you glance at the clock to see just how much time is left, “how’d you know?”

He motions to your open computer with a now dark screen. “I saw your document pulled up. ____’s tasks or else she will be kicked out of student government,” he taunts, snickering when your eyes grow wide with embarrassment and you lightly nudge his shin with your foot in warning.

“It’s not polite to snoop,” and although you say that, you catch something in your peripheral vision. It’s a few drawings of a figure and gadget drawn, shaded from rigid shapes with small descriptions pointing to different places. You weren’t sure what was more surprising; how good the drawings were, or the subject of his imagination.

Weird. Inherently, there was nothing wrong with Riki drawing a villain, and you chalked it up to him being creative. Nothing more, nothing less.

He puts his hands up in surrender at your last comment, his grin showing anything but. Just one look at the boy makes you realize that everything you’ve just thought about is foolish.

There’s no way he’d have time to be a villain and a student. With one final thought, you let your raging thoughts rest and focus on the present; him. You’ve seen his hair messy, especially after his naps, but when Riki tries to style it like how he did today, you pay more attention to the streaks of blonde and how he often hides behind his bangs and scrunches his nose. It’s cute. He’s cute.

The truth is, you enjoy being around him like this, joking around and never worrying too much about your responsibilities and expectations. It’s refreshing. Being around Riki gives you the feeling that things will be okay in the end.

You snap out of your thoughts to see that his desk is empty, while your’s hasn’t changed one bit.

“You’re going to sell prom tickets now, right?” He makes small talk before leaving for lunch, closing the notebook you were suspiciously eying before slipping it into his bag.

“Yup,” you answer, popping the ‘p,’ “I’ll see you later,” and you two part ways.

All the long lines and constant distribution of change doesn’t allow much wiggle room for you to daydream. As time goes on, the ticket-selling line grows smaller and smaller, but the only thing you truly care about is eating the lunch your parents packed you. Your sandwich is probably sad and soggy now that there are only a few minutes of lunch left. When you finally sign off one last time after triple checking the forms are all correct, you let out a sigh, leaning back and finally getting a break.

Then, it hits you that you’re not even sure if the boy you’re fawning over is attending the biggest event of the year, and you feel stupid for forgetting to ask.

Yesterday was a rookie’s mistake–today, you’d make sure you get an answer from him.

“Are you going to prom, Riki?” is the first thing you ask when he sits down, grabbing his book and laptop with a little too much enthusiasm.

“I’m thinking about it.” Yeah, whatever confidence he had when convincing himself he’d ask you out isn’t serving him well at this moment. Quite frankly, Riki feels lame as ever trying to be nonchalant around you. “You?”

“I’d have to set up, so I would be there, yes. But whether or not I have a date is another story.” You smile to lighten the mood, but Riki watches you and nods, focusing back on signing into his laptop and getting his notes for the new book you’re reading.

“Well, you’re not the only single one here.” And he wants to reprimand himself for saying something without thinking. “If someone asked, would you say yes?”

You think about it carefully, really because you don’t have anyone in mind when it comes to prom if Riki’s not planning on going. “It’d have to be someone I know—someone I talk to somewhat regularly. I’d be nice to be with someone who doesn’t make it awkward.”

Nishimura Riki might die from over-thinking if he keeps on wondering whether or not he fits that description to a tee.

RIKI'S TO-DO LIST BEFORE PROM

☐ talk to ____ regularly

☐ don't make it awkward

☐ be..cute?

The boy decides that his superhuman responsibilities might be easier to complete than any of those three things.

He switches the subject to stop his head from hurting too much. “Did you finish the report?”

You still, and Riki’s question reminds you of the report looming over your head. In your defense, you two hadn’t brought it up much in the past week, and he didn’t seem to worry over how much of your time was spent emailing teachers or making spreadsheets. Although caught off guard, you’re quick to respond with, “What did we have to finish? I thought we were done since last week, but if there’s anything else-”

“Sorry,” he rushes out, biting his lip, “I meant, if you finished reading it.” And the answer is no, you haven’t read it since your last edit on it three days ago.

Within a few clicks, you find the document and scroll to the bottom, seeing the small note that Riki left that said ‘let me know how it looks.’ It’s sweet to know he thought about your input as much as you did his.

“While some can agree that Gatsby’s rise into high society was sketchy, Gatsby still retains the same reserved character from years ago, and doesn’t manipulate others into success or use his money for nefarious purposes. It’s not like he changed after his wealth, and it could be argued Gatsby loved Daisy until his last breath and was willing to die as long as she was happy, emphasizing the theme of sacrifice.

So, is Jay Gatsby a good person? The question targets the morality of a character who many can empathize with. Those who are charmed by his overwhelming love for Daisy would say that he’s committed textbook crimes, but focus more on the intent behind it. To pine after someone from a distance isn’t easy, but to pursue her after years of separation is even harder. It’s universally agreed, however, that love as a driving force doesn’t nullify what he’s done to others and the dirty schemes he’s enacted to gain the power he has. Therefore, Gatsby makes for an interesting main character, and highlights just how twisted a system around money can be.”

The last page is–for the most part–his writing, and your admiration for him grows when you finish reading and scroll to hit your Works Cited page.

“It’s good,” you tell him wholeheartedly, “Didn’t think you had it in you.”

Riki cracks a smile at your light teasing, soaking up your praise.

“Now you know.” He shrugs. And he can only hope that you like him as much as you like his literary skills.

NISHIMURA RIKI MIGHT DIE WHEN HE COMES TO THE REALIZATION THAT HE IS EXACTLY LIKE JAY GATSBY,JUST WITHOUT THE MONEY—DESPERATE FOR THE GIRL OF HIS DREAMS, DYING YOUNG, AND A FRAUD HIDING BEHIND SECRETS.

Nevermind the last one, he has to hide when he has an identity to protect as the city’s only superhero, but Riki feels his heart sink to his heels when he read a few weeks ago how much Gatsby simply adores Daisy. When Gatsby died, he scoffed, closing the book with a sudden disinterest. If he were the male lead, he wouldn’t have been laying in a pool for target practice. Maybe being a superhero teaches you how to avoid being easy bait for all your enemies, or maybe Gatsby was too carried away with love to think straight.

Fighting crime gives you insurmountable experience with sneaking around, but it wasn’t something he could just teach to anyone. When he gets this horrible gut feeling that something’s happened to you, he just knew something was wrong. He might not be easy to catch, but for anyone else? Definitely.

For everyone else, prom was a month away, but for you, it was three weeks of talking to your advisor and president, arguing with your other board members, and sitting behind that damn money box for another five days to sell tickets. For you, it was realizing that you were supposed to buy streamers and balloons yesterday on your way home from school. It was the thinly veiled disappointment in your board member’s texts when they told you they were at a loss for words. ‘I’m sorry, and I know you’re busy, but how could you forget? Prom is so important for all of us. What if they don’t have what you need anymore?’ It all repeated in your head as you bit your lip in frustration and slipped on the first pair of shoes you could find. Although it was dark and dangerous, you could care less if it meant avoiding the passive aggressive comments you’d get tomorrow during your meeting.

There it is again: that little tendency to not pay attention to your surroundings.

You yelp when you feel someone grabbing your wrist and pulling you in, muffling your screams as he pulls you along. To see him on the news was worrying, but to see Spark in person with your life on the line is even worse.

Tears spring to your eyes as you struggle against the metal to no avail, and you curse every previous moment you spent worrying about balloons rather than your safety.

Spark suddenly stops, shoving you against the wall before his hand grabs a brick with his metal arm, beginning to climb. “Don’t let go.” And you don’t think twice before holding on.

The city view would be beautiful if you weren’t hearing your heartbeat in your ears or if you weren’t dangling from the railing of some company building, trying to wiggle yourself free of the rope around your wrists.

Spark speaks up, drumming his fingers on the railing next to you. “You wouldn’t happen to know where your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man is, would you?” And you furrow your eyebrows, genuinely questioning for a moment if he really knew how the superhero operated.

A voice from across the street puts a temporary hold on your thoughts, and you glance up to see a flash of blue and red soaring through the air, followed by a groan and a beam of light next to you. Seeing Spark’s powers right in front of you spurs you into action, yanking at the rope and trying to take tiny steps away from where they were fighting.

“From what I’m seeing, you wanted to hold someone hostage because you’re not feeling too good, huh?” Spider-Man shouts as he shoots out webs and blocks hits. You shake your head in partial disbelief of how unserious he is, but also how unbelievable all of this seems. “You tried to take a potion or something? I’m going to tell you this now, but these usually don’t work.”

Riki’s assumption is right, and considering how Spark now has a leg and arm from metal instead of just the arm, the procedure for the additional limb couldn’t have been easy. The superhero still proceeds with caution, making sure to pay attention to anything new as he dodges and fights back.

The villain immediately gets back up, stumbling for a moment before he regains his stance and runs towards the boy. You hear the clanging of fist hitting metal from their fight, and considering the difference in height and build, you’d expect Spider-Man to be easily flung to the side, but he holds his weight in battle.

Riki aims for around the left shoulder, where an abundance of stitches cover the skin and fuse the metal into muscle. He lands a hit, and almost another one, before a punch to the side knocks him from his momentum. The boy wheezes when his back makes instant contact with the ground, rolling and getting up before Spark has time to shoot.

He notices how quickly the gadget generates electricity now. Before, the beams took longer, and were easily predictable, but now, it glows bright for a moment before it fires directly in Riki’s path. The boy dodges the first, but the second one almost hits the top of his head before he ducks and creates distance.

From the roof-top, Riki scans his surroundings before making the split-second decision to jump.

He swings to the other side of the building, keeping you in his peripheral vision as he works on apprehending the villain in front of him. They spring into yet another fist fight, with Riki’s agility easily letting him avoid punches and land precise hits to make the previous injuries even worse.

You think Spider-Man has the upper hand in this, seeing as how none of Spark’s punches seem to slow down the superhero, but you hear something loud before you can register it.

You figure out what happened after Riki stumbles and suffers a blow to the stomach, sending him tumbling to the edge of the building. Spark knew that Spider-Man was avoiding his left arm—he knew that one wrong move paired with the tungsten material would have a lasting effect on the superhero’s fist.

Riki coughs from the impact before his spidey-sense rings, pulling him back into battle as he runs as fast as his body can take him.

You. He still needs to save you.

With renewed vigor, he continues to avoid the flying sparks as he ducks between structures and uses the terrain to his advantage. He can tell, though, that the villain is slowing down. The shots are less accurate–a telltale sign that the enhancer Spark tried is working against him.

Between all of the chaos, Riki finally lands a proper web, yanking as hard as he can to pull Spark to the ground. He stumbles, grasping at thin silk before Riki lets go on his side. The villain’s balance is off, giving the boy an advantage as he closes the distance, hopping over a thrown slab of metal and landing a solid kick into Spark’s ribcage. As he stays down, Riki continues to aim for muscle and flesh, his head spinning as he packs punch after punch to keep the villain apprehended.

Spark’s body–curled into itself to absorb the hits the best that he can�� hides the growing blue flash that he’s slowly charging up with his remaining power. The moment it escapes from under his abdomen, Riki directs his efforts towards avoiding the electric glimmer. The villain rolls over, his body tattered from the consistent injuries, and he fires what seems like an intense bullet of energy. It zips by the boy’s cheek, cutting the mask and leaving blood to run down in its wake. Time slows down as the superhero tries to process the unlocked speed of the burst, and Spark loses focus marveling at his new abilities. Never before had either of them seen power so concentrated, and it inflicts both fear and excitement.

He lifts his arm, the other holding it up for support, and Spider-Man notices the fizzle of bright blue. Riki’s about to jump out of the way, preparing for yet another high-speed bullet, but before Spark fires, something clicks. The arm doesn’t directly point to Riki–but it skews off to the right.

Except, he’s no longer aiming for Riki in the split second that the boy blinks. He’s suddenly aiming at you, where your hands are tied to the railing and your feet are dangling from the bent metal that holds you precariously over the edge, leaving a fifty foot drop in its wake. When you see the blue energy in the villain’s palm growing slowly bigger, you pull at the rope desperately with zero regard to the tender rawness of your wrists.

In your attempt to somehow break the rope, your cry of fear snaps Spider-Man into action.

Riki pushes his sore body to jump as quick as he can, leaping across the rooftop to the building over. He easily avoids the metal railing, grabbing onto your arm as he yanks hard on the rope, the force of it separating a piece of metal from the railing. He immediately jumps, sending out a web to swing him back up. It all happens in a flash–first, you were bound to the edge about to fall to your death, and all of a sudden, you’re tightly pressed against Spider-Man’s chest with your bound wrists still attached to the metal. Shutting your eyes, you trust Spider-Man entirely, closing your eyes to avoid seeing just how far up you were. Wind rushes in your ears and leaves your stomach fluttering with butterflies until the superhero sets you down on a secluded rooftop.

“Please,” he begs, “don’t leave. I’ll be right back.”

You’d be a fool to do anything but wait.

Riki checks on you one last time before diving down, springing himself back up with another web. The damage from the blasts is recognizable even from far away, and yet, he notices the reflective shine of a metal arm on the edge of the building before Spark lets go.

To Riki, Spark is dead after dropping from a fall having taken that much damage, but he hears no impact. Making haste, the boy fails to find any figure no matter how hard he looks, but Spark’s laboratory has to be here somewhere. The badge from a week ago was stuck on Riki’s mind, and he could only imagine the reasons why he pursued this life. Was he recreating something? If he needs to power some sort of machine, then the heart of the city is a perfect place to harness the electricity for any large scale project. As much as he wants to dedicate the rest of the night to searching the city for some sort of clue, the fact that you’re still stranded on that rooftop after having just experienced a life-changing event blares like an alarm in his mind.

He quickly leaves, returning to where you’re seated.

Without the fear of falling to your death from earlier, you were able to focus on undoing the knots from the rope. Red scratch marks and irritation bloom on your wrist, and the reality of it all happening still hasn’t settled in. Despite not being harmed once, the fear and incessant pounding of your heart overwhelms your senses, and it leaves you heaving with confusion.

A pair of footsteps only become apparent as Riki walks closer, taking a seat beside you and letting out a large sigh. He stares at the stars silently as if he doesn’t have a cut on his cheek and bruises waiting to paint his skin purple–as if he isn’t hiding his true self under a facade.

“You’re not hurt, are you?” You shake your head, grateful that Spider-Man was the reason you got away without a real injury.

“Thank you, really, for saving me. I don’t know how you manage to do it.”

Riki chuckles under the mask. “Eh, you get used to it,” you hear Spider-Man say. “You fight a couple bad guys, get over a fear of heights and eventually you get the hang of things.”

Scoffing, you gently rub at your wrists to ease the redness. “Easy for you to say. I haven’t been taught a crash course on how to avoid being supervillain bait just yet.”

“Maybe you should learn it sometime,” Riki responds absentmindedly, “someone like you shouldn’t have been out so late doing whatever it could’ve been.”

Sighing, your mind drifts off to think about the balloons and streamers that are not in your hand. “I had stuff for my upcoming events.”

He knew about all of it when you’d explain your cryptic reminders and notes on your computer, but he still feigns curiosity. “What upcoming events?”

“Just prom,” and he hears just how strained it makes you.

Riki tilts his head in faux confusion. “What do you have to do for prom?”

He notices how you immediately slump, as if the mere mention of prom deflates your happiness. “It’s only a few weeks away, and I was supposed to get decorations for our venue yesterday. I just wanted to slip out before my parents noticed.”

Despite the fabric over his eyes, Riki’s expression shifts from surprise to pity when he understands your stakes. “You still need to be careful. Is your student council strict?”

“Not strict necessarily, but judgemental–I ran for the position because I thought I could help my school raise funds and find more opportunities, but it just feels like no one truly wants to try anything new.” You wave it off as if it’s not that important, as if it isn’t the reason why you find yourself stressed so often. “I just don’t want to disappoint or give people something to talk about.”

Despite not being involved with school the same way you are, the boy next to you resonates with the fear you currently face. The fear of letting people down was a large part of why Riki continued to put on that mask and step into the most dangerous situation of his life; he never wanted to sit down to hear the news that Spider-Man quit.

So he keeps doing his job, even if some days are harder and some fights aren’t worth winning–just like what you do.

“Yeah, I get that,” he tries to console, “You must be doing a lot for everyone around you, and I’m sure a lot of people appreciate what you’ve done. Don’t beat yourself up too much, yeah? You’ll always have me.” He smiles, but he knows you don’t see it. You’re looking at the stars, trying to calm your mind and return to your life before everything happened.

You glance over at Spider-Man, wondering if he’ll truly be around for you when you need it. “If I need to talk to you, should I step out of my house past 8PM again?”

Riki chuckles, watching clouds slowly dim the moon’s glow in their path. “If I’m not fighting crime, I’ll show up at a moment’s notice.”

There’s no way he means it, but you grin, feeling a lot of the pressure and stress of earlier slowly wash away. After all, nothing happened to you–Spider-Man made sure of it. Maybe things really were going to be okay.

“Let’s get you home, yeah? Don’t you have stuff to do anyways?”

You shrug, nothing really coming to mind. As you get up, you remember having to run a plagiarism check on your work, and how Riki told you to text him when you got home after your student government meeting.

Riki. Spark. Spider-Man.

“Wait,” you tell Spider-Man, sitting back down on the cement, “I need to talk to you about something else, too.”

“It’s not like my dinner’s getting cold,” the superhero mumbles quiet enough that you can’t hear.

“There’s this guy,” you start, paying no mind to how dirty your clothes are getting when you cross your legs.

Spider-Man scoffs, looking off into the distance, and it makes you believe he has to be your age or older. “You have a crush on him, or something?” And a whole tidal wave of deja vu hits you in the chest.

‘He must be badly hurt’ isn’t just something people say. People don’t just draw insanely detailed drawings of Spark’s arm and machines without notes to follow unless they knew. People wouldn't just randomly miss school without any impending signs. You’re sure of it–the tired naps in class, the random drawings of superheroes and superhumans alike, or how awkward he could act–it all makes sense.

Your classmate, aka Nishimura Riki, aka the guy who you’ve questioned if you had a crush on for the past few days, might be a villain.

The swirling feeling of trepidation in your stomach leaves three words running around your head.

What. The. Fuck.

Although you tried so hard to stop thinking about it, Jake’s comment from before rubbed you the wrong way. It was sometime last week where you couldn't get your mind off of the implications of his words, but that feeling was brushed underneath your responsibilities.

Until now.

“Yeah, there’s this guy,” you breathe, feeling your chest constrict, “Nishimura Riki. I think he’s Spark.”

His blood runs cold.

“You think this…why?”

You take a deep breath, trying to organize all your thoughts. “Well, first, it was his friend, Jake. He said that Riki was badly hurt, and I was really confused at first, but tried to let it go.”

Riki was going to strangle his best friend.

“And then, I was looking at him in class, right? And keep in mind, he’s pretty cute, and we sit next to each other, so I just noticed how good his hair looked that day, but his notebook was out, and I saw all these drawings of Spark. Like, the arms, the metal things, even the projectiles! Who would know the ins and outs of that thing if it wasn’t Spark himself?”

He didn’t know what to think about first; the fact that you gushed about him for the first time, or if he should even tell you that Spider-Man would know those things, too.

“And sometimes, I notice he’s a little awkward around me. I can’t explain it. It’s like he’s paying attention to me. That must’ve been why he captured me.” He wants to laugh at how damn close you are to figuring it out, but in reality, nothing is funny about the situation.

Nishimura Riki is actually listening to this, right now, as Spider-Man–not Spark. The awkwardness, though? It was his crush on you, and was not superhuman related in the slightest.

“I don’t know,” he attempts to divert, pretending to focus, “I saw a badge for FLiGHT. You know the company that’s been making time traveling machines? I saw a glimpse of his name and face. It’s not that guy you mentioned.”

You raise an eyebrow. “And you haven’t gotten him caught?”

“Villains aren’t easy to find, y’know. It’s not like playground hide and seek,” Riki defends, crossing his arms.

You shrink in your spot, feeling sheepish for questioning a superhero so bluntly.

“Plus,” he continues, “Spark has never had a hostage. Wouldn’t it be pretty mean of that friend of yours to kidnap a girl from his class?”

“Yeah—that makes sense. Thank god,” you breathe, closing your eyes momentarily. “Then what do you suspect all that evidence leads to? Maybe he’s a secret agent?”

“I think,” Riki continues to keep up his clueless facade, “Your friend might just be clumsy. Or creative. I mean, maybe he went through a break-up?” Nice one, Riki.

You shake your head. “No, there’s no way he has a girlfriend. You’d think I like guys who are taken?” Scoffing lightly, you then remembered that Spider-Man really would have no idea who any of you are.

He shrugs and stands up stretching before motioning for you to follow him. “I have no idea what you high school kids do. Come on, let’s get you home.”

As you hug him tight, the cold air whips around your body and leaves goosebumps in their wake. You barely open your eyes from the fear of seeing yourself inches from hitting a building or up in the air. Spider-Man only yells his confirmation after asking how to get you home, finally placing you on the ground outside of your large gate.

“Thank you for saving me tonight.”

“Anytime. Figure things out with that friend of yours, and don’t go out late, okay?” You nod and take his words to heart.

“Goodnight, Spiderman.”

—-

Nishimura might die. One, because he has this horrible guilty feeling in his stomach, and two, because of a villain.

Yesterday, he ignored the salmon and rice bowl that waited for him back at home, choosing to follow the coordinates he saved on his phone after he took you home. It led him to a seemingly harmless auto-shop, with an arrow on his GPS pointing to a garage that was shut down completely with nails and blocked with boxes. The exterior pointed to it being abandoned, but Riki suddenly saw some light coming from a makeshift above.

The boy scaled the wall as quietly as possible, glancing into the source of the whirring. He caught small glimpses of something–metal, glowing, blue.

Or at least, for a few seconds it was on until the power went out.

The voice that complained from inside the room sounded identical to the man Riki fought. Spark grumbled, turning on a flashlight and quickly waving it around. Riki ducked from the window and held his breath, waiting for the man to suspect something.

Nothing.

One lightbulb slowly flickered back on, and then the other dingy light followed. The space was cramped with the metal equipment in the middle, resembling what Riki had seen in the news.

He was right–it was the same time travel portal that was ruined from a few months ago.

Spider-Man continued to observe the man as he worked and drilled, plugging certain wires or pausing momentarily to read from a journal. To anyone, it’d seem peaceful, like some sort of renovation project. But in reality, it was so much more than that.

Riki searched for any sort of information about the machine, trying to see what exactly was left to do until his gaze landed on something.

There was some sort of date on a bright pink sticky-note, and Riki’s eyes widened when he finally comprehends it.

The machine was scheduled to be completed tomorrow.

A street lamp next to Riki dies out—which was a clear sign that something was powering up. From the dark, he hears the metal from the same place as last night moving again, and he knows that Spark has left. His presence sends anyone down the street and immediately running, leaving the area for only them two.

Riki finally sees the completed metal build. Half of his body is wrapped in or replaced with metal parts as he sets down the metal portal, beginning to push it in the direction of the power plant.

A truck or car would make things much easier, but whatever.

Riki wants to cry from fear and run away. He wants to leave and pretend he never saw anything from last night.

He’s going to die fighting Spark and he will quite literally a) never finish highschool and get that stupid diploma, b) finish explaining how Gatsby is not a good person and is naturally selfish, and c) he’s never going to tell you how he’s had a small crush on you ever since he saw your cute campaign video as to why you should vote y/n l/n for student body treasurer last spring.

“You sure that thing works?” Riki asks, jumping into action as he sends webs to immobilize the machine.

“You’re annoying, you know that?” Spark sends a projectile in the superhero’s direction, hitting the wall behind him instead as Riki jumps out of the way.

With another duck mid-air and the roof of a flying car dangerously close to his nose, Riki thanks the dance practice he does for his flexibility as he shoots another web and swings away.

Spark is uncontrollable by now, sucking the light from street lamps and fizzing wires in his wake. He has no idea how he’s supposed to get in contact with the villain like before. The body of his suit fizzes with bright electricity that sizzles and pops. It illuminates Spark’s figure, making him easy to spot, but not so easy to defeat. It’s an overload of power, causing the voltage to escape between the joints and gaps of the metal pieces in his suit. And Riki can feel it; the air is heightened and so are the stakes of this fight—and with how the man that stands in front of him looks upgraded and menacing, he knows only one person can make it out of this fight alive.

“You injected the city’s ‘Gas and Electric’ into your system or what?” Riki calls out, making light of the situation. If he’s being honest with himself, he’s scared out of his wits seeing the six foot figure with blue and white shooting from every crack, looking like a nightmare to touch.

Riki avoids a few more angrily thrown objects, using the momentum of his jump from the side of the building to zip from the top of a yellow fire hydrant to go from one side of the street to the other. “You’re slow!” He taunts, tucking in his legs to avoid a shot of electricity directed at him.

The screech of metal from the nearby hydrant can be heard as the top flings off, making Riki lose his anchor/ Before he can process it, instead of smoothly landing on the building, he crashes into it faster than expected, groaning when his back makes contact with the glass and he tumbles into the living room of someone’s apartment.

“Fuck,” he curses, fighting his aching limbs to get up once more.

And the solution hits him. Literally.

When he steps out and quickly attaches a web to the top of the building, he’s met on the way up with a splash of water from the hydrant to his face, and Riki splutters as he wipes his mask, regaining focus as he lands on the concrete and hides behind the ledge.

Water. If he can get it in contact with Spark and pour enough water on the right spot, the excess of electricity blazing from his mechanical body should work against him.

“Too scared? You should know better than to run away.” The superhero rolls his eyes, crawling away silently to avoid being seen by Spark. Riki does his best to look around for something, and finds a black flower pot in the corner, using a web to grab it before he scales the side of the building and runs away while Spark is distracted as the villain also climbs the wall to face him there. But when Spark climbs the ledge and scans the premise, Riki is nowhere to be seen.

Instead, Riki swings across the street and fills the pot with water, heaving the extra weight as he shouts out from the sudden pain in his side. He stumbles on the pavement, crying out from the injury as the pot falls with his whole plan.

Maybe this is where Spider-Man dies.

He sucks in a deep breath before rolling from his back onto his knees, ignoring the wound to pick up the flower pot. The hydrant still shoots out water, and the superhero rushes towards it, causing Spark to follow. He narrowly avoids another shot from behind him, reaching the yellow hydrant before dropping the pot on the ground. Spark is th

While Spark has always been intelligent, Riki could tell that the man didn’t fear the water, believing he’d be invincible to the elements now that his suit was perfected. There was something off, Riki could tell, and he would make sure to use it to his advantage. Spark was uncontrolled, and his powers drastically decreased the more he used them. There’s no way his body isn’t in overdrive with how recklessly he’s been letting himself get hurt.

Riki uses a web to get himself on higher ground instead of fighting, waiting for the supervillain to follow. If he could get Spark off the edge and fall into the growing puddle of water, it should slow him down.

Spark scoffs. “Run away, then. Like you always have.” Riki hears the wall crumbling under the villain as he climbs within seconds, immediately preparing to fight when he makes it onto the rooftop. But Spider-Man was also prepared, jumping from his crouched hiding position and attempting to catch Spark off guard.

All he can focus on now is pushing him off. There’s no way it’d be easy, considering he had to focus on his touching any of the electricity off of his suit. Riki delivers a kick to Spark in the ribcage near his heart, where he’s fused metal into flesh. The villain coughs before taking a step back, his metal arm reaching for Riki’s outstretched leg. He grabs it, twisting with anger before the boy meets the ground in a violent throw. Not only is the slam greater because of the enhanced strength, but the power seeps into Riki’s skin, leaving it hot from the energy radiating off of his palm.

The boy groans, flipping to his side to avoid a fatal hit to the chest. He reaches for Spark’s normal arm, swinging the villain’s body away with as force as he could to create distance between them.

Riki has been in enough fights to simply know when to run, even if he doesn’t know what’s coming. He could feel the tingle of the charge as it powered up, and with its energy so unrestrained and its user so unstable, the large attempt to hit Riki sends the villain stumbling back from the force. The more Spark uses his powers, the more likely he’s going to end up dead.

“Your skin can handle that anymore!” he shouts, getting ready to swing himself closer as a plan manifests itself in his head. “You’ll die like this!”

Spark seems to know that too as he wipes his mouth and recovers from Riki’s attacks.

“You think I care?” He shouts, desperately pressing his wounds to stop the bleeding. “You think I have anything else for myself?” The vulnerability of his character shines through as he clutches his bleeding wound without regenerative powers to help. “You think I didn’t know that when I did it to myself--what they did to me?”

Riki doesn’t respond, grimacing as he continues hand-to-hand combat. Although he takes a solid punch to his jaw that’s forming a deep purple bruise, he manages to trip Spark onto the ground.

The man stumbles back from the head injury, the pounding from earlier not letting him to think straight. Riki doesn’t try to injure him anymore, but he instead blocks an incoming punch and tries to force Spark towards the edge.

The villain barely notices how much space there is left, and the boy lunges with full force. They tackle each other into the ground, and Riki gets off after apprehending him once more.

The city's a mess, and Spider-Man’s eyes want to shut down so badly, but he takes a few steps in Spark’s direction, pushing him off the side of the building as quickly as he can. Riki hears the thud before he peeks over the edge, seeing the water erode all of the engineering from the machinery. He slowly descends from the rooftop.

“You were in the accident, huh?” Riki shouts on top of the plethora of sounds. Pain, buzzing electricity, splashes of water as he lands next to Spark; it all echoes in his ears as he pours the water from the pot on Spark’s body. “Why did you try it? Why did you want to go back so bad?”

“If I could go back,” Spark coughs, trying to get away from the large pool of water, “I could’ve prevented the accident from taking the lives of the people around me. I could’ve saved them.”

Spider-Man understands loss, and he understands the regret that comes with failure. He understands how the man in front of him feels after having everything taken away from him, but his emotions could never justify his actions.

“You know you can’t change things,” Riki responds, “You tried your best, Spark.” It’s the last thing Riki tells the villain before his body slumps and police sirens grow louder and louder. It’s the last thing that he continues to think about, even if the medic quickly assesses the severity of his wounds.

“I’m fine- really,” he pushes away the hands of a concerned woman as she holds a roll of bandages. “There’s something else I need to do.”

Riki knew he had to tell you about this–he couldn’t just let you confide in him about..well, him, without your knowledge. And Riki wasn’t morally perfect, but he knew an explanation would be the only way to fix things.

Your house looks different when jumping over the fence instead of standing in front of it. When he realizes he has no idea what room belongs to you, he racks his brain, suddenly remembering how yours was the only one with a gray balcony over the pool. And so he climbs, slipping from the exhaustion creeping into his body.

You’ll understand after he explains everything, right?

“____, a little help?” And what the fuck is Nishmura Riki doing outside of your door? You go to investigate the muffled sound, inching towards the curtains and pulling them back to expect him there. When you hear a half yelp and a hissing sound that follows right after, without a person anywhere in sight, your heart drops to its stomach.

Do not say it’s true.

“Riki, where the fuck are you?” you ask, traversing out when you don’t see him anywhere across the glass.

“Down here.” You run in the direction of the voice, and your eyes grow comically large and you gasp, staring down at the sight before you.

“Holy shit.”

There Nishimura Riki is, with his mask half burned off his face and his blonde and black hair messy and matted to his forehead with sweat. The suit is ripped in multiple locations with gashes and purple replacing the healthy skin underneath. His face is in more of a grimace, as he holds onto the web with both hands and one foot planted on the stone of your balcony—read; the bottom of your balcony.

“A little help?” And you see his sheepish emotion through the tattered fabric, embarrassed after you had to find him in such a compromising situation. “I’m a little worn out and I think my webs are getting weaker.”

You’re a little frustrated with him for being out so publicly, but more scared and worried for his condition. Your gaze narrows on the mask, tattered and covered with scratches, but clearly visible. It was Spider-Man’s mask. The material gives way to a familiar face, and your mind almost blocks you from putting the pieces together. It’s impossible, almost horrifying to think of the implications of what it means to wear the blue and red suit.

Instead of being the villain, Riki is, in fact, the savior.

The harsh truth is that your classmate, who you spent the last month working on a project with and suspected was a villain, is the same superhero that went out and risked his life every night fighting crime. It’s jarring to see him like this, breathing heavy and straining against the stone of the balcony, and his cough snaps you out of it. “What the fuck do I do?”

Riki tries to put his hand up in surrender and shuts his eyes at your harsh tone. “Okay, okay, I get-“ and he cuts himself off with a yelp as his footing slips.

He holds out his hand, and you immediately bend over the smooth railing to grab it, leaning back on the heels of your feet to help him up the most that you can. You’re filled with confusion when the boy hobbles over the cool surface of the balcony and lets his head rest on the stone, not saying much as he catches his breath. You watch the rise and fall of his chest and how his right arm goes to nurse the left side of his ribcage, wincing and sucking in a pained breath as he assesses the smear of red on his fingers.

Sitting there with your mouth agape, you’re not really sure what to think about first; to check if RIki’s alright, to think about how your city’s greatest superhero is your English project partner, to yell at him for going to your house instead of his house to fix himself up, or to think about how good his side profile looks in the moonlight. Maybe you should’ve just been relieved that the boy you started to like wasn’t a fear-inducing villain.

“Okay, first of all, we need to have a huge talk. But I’m not a medic Riki- I’m going into accounting for fuck’s sake.” He hears the amount of curses flying from your lips as you ramble, and sees how stressed you look watching him sit against your railing.

“I don’t know how to help you. And also,” you lower your voice and scoot closer, looking around at the large property to really make sure no one’s listening. “you’re Spider-Man?”

The information all hitting you at once is worse than when your history teacher told you your essay was horrible. At least then, in her office, you could process everything. But here? You’re about to faint.

“I’m pretty cool, huh?” And of course Nishimura Riki says such a thing, taking deep breaths as he shallowly presses on the blossoming bruises on his skin and wipes the sweat from his brow.

“Pretty fucking stupid is what it is, Riki.” You cross your arms and try to take a look at where he’s been hurt, hoping that at least he has some sort of regeneration ability that helps him heal much quicker—because there’s no way he could deal with all of this on top of school.

“I have my reasons,” he says, his voice quiet.

You pause. “For being Spider-Man?”

“No,” he shakes his head. “For coming here.”

“What could possibly make you want to come over to my house instead of the nearest hospital? What’s that important to you?”

“I really want to ask you to prom.”

You simply stare at him, surprised.

“You came to my house, even though you’re like, a punch away from passing out, to ask me out? And you couldn’t have, I don’t know, asked me anytime during the classes we have together?”

Riki somehow finds it in himself to frown and shrink from your angry piercing gaze. “I can’t because talking to you makes me nervous–so yeah, I’m sorry I’m half conscious on your balcony in my suit instead of at your door with a poster.”

You’re conflicted, your mind still reeling from the recent discovery and your flood of emotions. Ever since you questioned his identity on top of your feelings for him, you had a hard time really knowing if you could like Riki if he turned out to be a villain, so to know that he proved both of your theories wrong leaves you quiet as you think. If possible, the color in the boy’s face drains even more when you go back inside, but the door stays open, and he thinks he hasn’t ruined things after all. You emerge with a bottle of isopropyl alcohol, a bowl of warm water, and a pristine white towel.

“I’m not mad about that, you idiot,” you reprimand him, setting everything down as you examine the cuts on his face. You squeeze the towel and start to dab at his skin, avoiding the cuts as you clean it. “Who does this for you if not me?”

“Jake.”

“Seems like a pretty good friend.” Riki nods in response.

“I’m sorry,” he sighs, sitting up to properly address you, even if you weren’t able to meet his gaze.

“For what?”

“For putting this on you–all of it. Not just the whole Spider-Man thing.” He knew he’d have to tell you at some point, or else it’d eat him up inside to know he kept all of it from you.

“Look at you, saving me mid-air and talking to me as if you didn’t know who I was.”

You notice a flash of regret through his wince as you clean up a cut with antiseptic. “I meant it when I told you I knew what it was like to have a lot of pressure.”

“Guess I wasn’t so far off, then. If we never talked, would you have told me?” Riki shakes his head, and the simple motion leaves you somehow disappointed.

“How do you ever tell anyone you’re…y’know, Spider-Man?” Even if it’s a hypothetical, you shrug, not being able to answer.

“How’d Jake find out?”

Riki chuckles and hisses at the same time before trying to remember. “I think I just kicked his window in after a nasty poison got hold of me. He was a little too excited to have Spider-Man on his bedroom floor, and less excited to know it was me. I’m not really supposed to tell anyone, though.”

“Then why’d you tell me? You could’ve just gone back to your friends.”

“I felt guilty–I know, I know, it sounds stupid. I’d definitely get my identity revealed at this rate.” You shake your head.

“Not stupid. Keep going.”

“I didn’t care that you suspected me, or if anyone else did, because I knew it was never true. But I felt so bad knowing you were sharing to me how you felt without even knowing it was me who was listening–like I was holding something from you.”

You admire his honesty, and when you look at his furrowed brows and his lip that he’s been gnawing from worry, you can’t even imagine what he’s had to hide and do for this. In a way, you look up to him more, for trying his best even if he’s gotten all odds stacked against him. Riki’s commendable in your eyes–he always had been, ever since you woke him up in class.

“I like those things about you, Riki. That you’re honest with yourself and the people around you as much as you can be, and you try to help others when you can. I’m glad we got to know each other more this past month.” Talking to him feels different than talking to Spider-Man from a few days ago; it feels raw, like you’re not just confessing something to a brick wall anymore. If none of this ever happened, you doubt you’d get the chance to tell Riki any of this properly.

The boy stays silent, taking deep breaths while processing what you’ve told him. “I’m glad I could help you out.”

You furrow your eyebrows. “I hope you know I don’t like you because you help me out. I like you because you’re attractive, and because you’re genuine,” you blurt.

Riki laughs despite his ribcage hurting everytime he does so. Riki nods and mumbles a ‘thank you,’ also glad to truly get to know you. While his crush was more of an infatuation with your hard work and amiability, the past few weeks really opened his eyes to who you were. You never wanted to disappoint, and even if your recklessness left you in some dire situations, Riki could see how much effort you really put into things.

There wasn’t anything else he needed to tell you–you were smart enough to see how much he cared about you.

You’re so close, your lips glossy with lip balm as you watch him carefully. You hear and see it all; the heavy, labored breathing from his body healing itself rapidly, and the way his hand is full of rough cuts and calluses as his fingers intertwine with yours. But your eyes catch a glimpse of his mask tossed to the side, the blue shining in the corner of your eyes as you’re reminded of who he is right now, and what role you play. You are still ____ ____, but he’s a superhero.

It makes you momentarily forget whose suit you're peeling away, whose skin you're cleaning. It reminds you that he’s just the boy in your English class that you fell for. “What does that make us?”

“Prom-goers,” he answers with a slight nod.

You smile, wiping a cut before placing the towel back into the bowl for the last time and getting up. “We can be prom-goers, yeah.”

You’re not sure if you’re ready for anything, and you’re thankful that he understands that, too. As much as it warmed your heart to see him again and hear his confessions, the blaring truth still hangs over your head. You grab his mask, finally looking at him before handing it back and grabbing your things. His secret identity wasn’t something you could just ignore.

“Go home, Spider-Man,” you turn your back on him, and time slows when you falter before sparing him one more look. “I want you as Riki, not like this.”

MAYBE NISHIMURA RIKI DOESN'T NEED TO DIE–OR ALMOST DIE–ANYMORE.

He went home that night with his scars somewhat cleaned and his bruises miraculous healing on their own, and even if slipping through the window left him clutching his side in pain, Riki silently jumped up to celebrate his multiple victories before slipping out of his suit and finally getting some rest.

Riki’s scared of how he’s affected your relationship. He’s worried you’ll avoid him in the halls, and he’s worried you’d never want to see him again after putting you through all of it. As much as he'd understand how upset you'd be towards him, he hopes he did the right thing by telling you.

But you see him on your way to English, and you call his name. His eyes search for yours in the crowds, and you two see each other before you crush him in a hug.

Riki isn’t sure how to feel at first, but eventually wraps his arms around you as relief settles in his stomach.

“Thank you for saving me, Spider-Man,” you whisper, loud enough for only him to hear.

He smiles at you, ruffling your hair as you go to English together. “Anytime, ____.”

NEVERMIND, NISHIMURA RIKI MIGHT DIE WHEN HE SEES YOU IN YOUR RED PROM DRESS.

But first, he has to try something out.

He curses to himself when silently zipping from a tree outside your family property to the top of your house, staring past the ledge two and luxurious stories to your well decorated porch light and door. He just prays that Google Maps is right about how secluded the area is, so no one can see him pacing around your rooftop, with flowers elegantly wrapped in his hand (courtesy of your mother’s sleek envelope from a few days ago).

“Fuck it,” he says to himself, shooting a web and dangling himself down. Riki’s upside down figure watches swirled window frames and meticulously designed accents as he descends, and he wonders what kind of shady business your parents could’ve done to afford something so grand.

He faces your door—hanging down instead of rightside up, but he’s still here on time like he promised.

The door opens at 6:00PM like he instructed you to, but what he didn’t tell you what to do was shriek and slam the door. On his nose. With a loud yelp, Riki clutches his nose, rubbing the spot you hit and trying to apply pressure to alleviate the pain.

When the door slowly creaks open again, you face with the image of Nishimura Riki, aka your boyfriend, aka your English partner, aka Spider-Man, curled upside down in the fetal position as he cradles the sore spot on his face and swings slightly from the breeze.

“You scared me, dumbass! How was I supposed to know it was you? It was so hard to see!”

Although muffled, Riki’s able to mumble, “You have a porch light for this reason, _____,” and a jab at his stomach from you follows his sarcastic remark. Finally, his nose feels better, and he straightens out to finally look at you.

Pretty, pretty, pretty, and the boy wonders how you look even more stunning with a glittering red dress and perfectly done make-up. “I like the red,” he says, trying not to freak out over your beauty. “Reminds me of a certain neighborhood superhero.”

“I have some blue spider earrings to match.” With a beautiful smile, you turn to show him the little accent, and it melts his heart. “Are you okay, though?”

“I’m fine. I should’ve probably put more thought into that.”

You snicker, sliding into your heels and closing the door behind you.

“One of us is better at romantic gestures, it seems.” It warrants a scoff, and Riki brings a gloved hand to poke at your forehead teasingly.

“Let me have a do-over, then?” And the way your lips curl up into a bright smile leaves him quiet and in awe.

“What, were you going to kiss me? Very original, Spider-Man.” With the way the fabric shifts over his features, you can tell he’s pouting.

“I thought girls liked this.”

You shrug, pretending you aren’t swept off his feet by the effort he’s put in. Taking a step in his direction, your hands reach up to gently pull the mask over his chin, ears, and then his nose.

Whispering quietly, you ask, “You’ve kissed other girls upside down?”

Riki’s quick to shake his head. “You’re the only girl I’d withstand a head rush for.” And god, you just can’t stop yourself from grinning at his sweet, genuine words.

You lean in, placing a small kiss on his nose as a silent apology. Then, you close your eyes and lean into him once more, feeling his hands carefully holding the side of your head and his lips on yours. Your kiss with Riki is saccharine and slow, making you pull away when the urge to beam at him is too much. Your cheeks definitely hurt by how romantic he’s being, and you can’t resist kissing him once more.

“I’m not gonna lie,” he starts, finally letting himself down, “It feels weird.”

“You ruined the moment.” And he really didn’t, but you enjoy his subtle reactions to your light digs at him.

“Whatever.” Riki laughs. “Stay here, I’ll be right back.”

You nod, sitting down on the porch and dragging a manicured nail over your lips with the ghost of his affections, thinking about how you literally just kissed Spider-Man.

Riki comes back, dusting off his suit and smoothing out the wrinkles, with a large bouquet of red roses and one blue one snuck in there. Your lips stretch into a grin and you accept the bouquet, keeping a mental note to read the card in there.

“You never cease to amaze me, Riki.” It’s the last thing you mutter to the air before you loop your arms around his neck, urging him to lean down as you kiss him once more—this time rightside up, but still as sickly saccharine as the one before it. Your heart is fuzzy with fondness and your eyes glitter with adoration.

“So, which kiss was better?” he asks when you pull away, a little breathless and dizzy.

You swat his arm and walk past the gates, seeing the sleek limo waiting by the curb. “I don’t know, Spider-Man. Maybe show up in your suit and we’ll try it again.”

REBLOGS AND FEEDBACK ARE ALWAYS APPRECIATED AND ALWAYS READ!

RIKI FIC DONE!!!! ngl y/n u were right there how did u not know riki was spiderman but whatever idc she's a hard worker not smart LMFOAOAO. my first ever action fic so i hope you enjoy! also i hate the ‘oh he pined after her for 4 years she liked him for 2 months’ bs because I WAS IN IT. and it sucks so i tried to deviate from it :)

꣑ৎ permanent fic taglist (TAGGED IN TEASERS, FICS, HEADCANNONS, DRABBLES, ETC.): @dimplewonie @minleeeknow @heeheesang @mintpjzroll @llvrhee @firstclassjaylee @in-somnias-world @rairaiblog @suneng @mavlogist @sensitively-taken @sumzysworld @simpjay @moons-v @riksaes @txtari @jungwonscatcus @tya0 @sasfransisco @woorcve @shypen @pinkriki @rikisluv @saranghaohoshi @lilifiedeans @wonmyheart @k1ttyluvr @nikisgfff @ramenoil @laurradoesloveu @lvcky-g1rl-syndr0me @ikeulims @missychiefs1404 @qwonyoung23 @yangjungwonnie @onementally-unstabel-kid @microwvdstrawb3rri3s @blooqz @anormieee hi permies hope u enjoy! kith

2K notes · View notes

yanderefarm · 29 days ago

Note

Can I request Ares finding out our co workers calls themselves or work wife/ other people calling them that (I hope this make sense)

yandere housewife ares

cw;; yandere tendencies

unfortunately no hot wife covered in blood this time.

ares is one of the most violent ones maybe even more violent than emil. he's just already showed you his violent side. you can't convince him to spare everyone but if you're really just friends with your "work wife" he can spare her. he just fixes it by giving her incentive to quit instead.

y/n: how do you make your voice do that.

ares: do what?

y/n: red.

ares: i don't know what you mean honey

ares overhead it when he came to your work one day. one of the line cooks said your wifey needed you to take some plates to table 5. he knew they sure as hell weren't talking about him. a familiar feeling washed over him, it was like all he saw was red. he left without ordering.

when you got home you asked him why he left without atleast having a drink. he didn't answer that, his eyes distant and cold and his lips were in an uncharacteristic frown. you figured he was just having a bad day so you fixed some leftovers for dinner for both of you.

it was over the reheated chicken parm that he finally said something after having poked his chicken into shreds. why is it always chicken parm.

"who's your wifey?" his tone was frightening and it brought up painful flashbacks.

you couldn't breathe. your hands were shaking. and the question hung in the air with the only sound afterwards being the jitter of your fork against your plate.

"...i'm not upset with you." he clearly noticed that he had freaked you out. he reached out a hand and covered one of yours with it.

"please." your voice was strained as you forced yourself to speak.

ares opened his mouth to speak before closing it again. he took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down more. "its ok honey. im sorry i upset you."

there were tears in your eyes and your voice was barely above a choked whisper. "don't hurt her. please."

so there was someone. "i won't-"

"promise."

"... if i promise will you tell me more about her?"

you nodded rapidly.

"i promise i won't hurt her."

despite the promise you didn't immediately start speaking, clearly still shaken up. ares's heart hurt to see you like this, to think you were so scared of him. he pushed away the thoughts of this other woman and how much she must mean to you. well he did the best he could. he still bent his fork in his hand. he decided to get up and make you a cup of chamomile tea. the act of taking care of you always helped him calm down.

it wasn't until you were both sat on the couch, your head in his lap while he played with your hair, you finally spoke.

"its a joke among my coworkers. i'm always helping her with her tables and i cover her shifts when she needs a day off. so they just... started calling her my work wife." your voice was raw and broken like you were trying to hold back tears.

"... who is she?" ares tried to keep himself calm but he couldn't help the edge in his voice.

"her name is thena... she's my friend. just my friend." you turned on your back to look up at him.

"you've never mentioned her before." he cupped your cheek.

"i... i was worried you would get jealous. you-you're kinda intense honey." you reached up to cup his face in turn.

ares pouted a bit but he couldn't deny that you were right. even now it was hard to keep himself calm. he leaned down to give you a chaste kiss.

"I'll just get her fired."

"honey, no."

#top male reader #dom male reader #male reader #yandere ideas #yandere x male reader #replies #yandere oc #yandere housewife #sub yandere

306 notes · View notes

artethyst · 7 months ago

Text

~ Shadows Bathed In Moonlight ~

Azriel x Youngest Archeron Sister!Reader x OC

Little Ezekiel was not like his cousins.

Nyx, older only by two years, was cheerful and outgoing, curious like his mother and with an unbridled fearlessness just like his father.

Baby Thena, the youngest of the three, who had only just began to walk- toddle, already had the will of both her mother and father.

Cassian’s mischievous grin with Nesta’s piercing gaze.

Ezekiel, however, was just like Azriel.

He was very shy, in fact, he preferred to hide behind his mother’s legs and cling onto the shimmering skirts that pooled over them than chase after his cousins.

Rest his curly mop of raven hair against his father’s neck who was more than happy to scoop him up and carry him around, protective over the innocent child who had yet to be tainted by Prythian’s cruelties.

It was no secret Azriel preferred it that way, Rhysand and Cassian often teasing his parental axiety and overbearing behaviour, reminding him his son was an Illyrian after all.

Just as Illyrian as he had once been- delicate wings folded against his little back but with unblemished hands and love in his heart.

Azriel would keep it that way.

His Mate knew it was because of the innate fear of the Mother snatching his happiness away- as though he had never deserved it.

Ezekiel was a little miracle.

Not only were Fae children rare, the dangerous birth had put his mother in a coma, and him confined to the Healer’s for the first month of his wavering life.

It was the worst time of Azriel’s centuries long existence.

If he had been protective before, he was a hundred times worse now

When the other children played, Ezekiel was happy to curl up in another adult’s lap, to which many of them had no qualms, as Ezekiel was just the “cutest” according to Mor- a tiny version of his father that the Inner Circle could squeeze and smother with kisses.

Feyre often scolded Nyx for dragging the poor boy around, but Ezekiel held no grudges, a small blush on his face as his cousin tugged him along ranting on about whatever a child of his age had to rant about.

But now it was time for him to leave the nest.

The one his parents has so throughly wound.

“Ezekiel,” his mother bent down to his eye level, twinkling hazel eyes wide and scared. “Mama will be back soon okay?”

The little boy’s lip wobbled and tiny fists came to rub at his eyes which quickly filled with tears. His silent sobs broke her heart, Madja had always said he was an easy baby, like his father.

And even now- when he cried, he tried to hide it.

It worried her- that he would never throw a tantrum or openly seek comfort- but hide it as though he was ashamed to feel.

He choked back little cries as his mother had to force away her own.

She hated to think her little boy felt the need to internalise his feelings- especially from her.

Azriel had assured her it was okay- that he had been that way too, even when his own mother had shown him nothing but love.

“You’ll have lots of fun my Little Shadow,” she pressed a deep kiss to his wet cheek, gently brushing away his tears, trying not only to convince him but herself. “Nyx will be with you-“

“Yepppp! Come on ‘Zekiellllll!” His cousin’s voice sang in anticipation, not understanding why the boy was so reluctant to play with toys and read funny picture books all day.

Ezekiel continued to cry and so his mother picked him up, cradling him against her chest as he sobbed without restraint.

Unusual for such a well-behaved child such as he.

“D-Don’t leave me mama!” He wept. “I-I pwomise I’ll be good p-pwease don’t give me away!”

Her heart broke as he trembled and her free hand came to stroke at his curls, the way she had done to comfort her own husband many a time.

“I would never give you away my darling, and you have not been bad,” she smoothed his raven locks, “you are a big boy now, just like Nyx. You are old enough go and play with all other children-“

“I not a big boy I-I still a baby!” He cried and that was when his father appeared, face just as torn as his mother’s.

The boy did not giggle as he usually did when his father’s shadows came to tickle against his cheek, his cries coming out in small hiccups as she looked to Azriel in pure misery.

He wordlessly plucked the child from her arms, his own chest tightening at the sound of his only child’s pained cries- crying under the belief he was being abandoned.

Azriel had vowed his child would never feel the way he had, unloved and nothing but a burden the Mother was so cruel to burden the equally dismal world with.

His Mate had changed that outlook.

And now his greatest treasure- a part of them both, homage to their fiery passion and proof the Shadowsinger was indeed capable of love.

Ezekiel continued to cry as Azriel’s shadows were equally as unsettled, trying their best to cheer up the little boy who quivered so violently, he might have fallen from his father’s arms had the older male’s grip been so secure.

He would rather suffer burns across his entire flesh- take Truthteller to his heart than have his son feel unwanted.

“You know that your mother and I love you- more than anything. More than the sky above.”

Ezekiel sniffed, his little head nodding pathetically as best it could smushed into Azriel’s chest.

“You are our little star Ezekiel. You are the most precious thing to us- in all of Prythian. We would never let anything or anyone harm you, you never have to be afraid of the world as long as I am here.”

Feyre stood in the distance- letting her brother-in-law share the moment with his son, knowing just how heartbroken Rhys was at the same situation.

The difference was, Nyx hardly gave him a second glance- sprinting into the unfamiliar building with a new sense of reverence and promise of adventure.

“D-Daddy stay?” The boy became hopeful as Azriel shook his head, running a hand lovingly through his son’s inherited locks- a sense of pride and indescribable love overwhelming him at the sight.

Before he could come up with some semblance of comfort, Feyre saved the day. Pressing a wet kiss to her nephew’s cheek with an infectious smile on her warm face.

It wasn’t that she thought her own sister incapable, she just knew the poor woman was just as worried as Azriel.

Their forced smiles and glossy eyes hardly convincible even to a child.

“Hmmm, a little shadow told me that Uncle Cass has a surprise back home waiting for his best Spy…”

The boy paused, his little face red and besmirched with tears but an undeniable curiosity to his eye.

“Spies don’t cry Zekie!” Nyx chimed in as his mother sent him a gentle look of reprimand. “Come onnnnn, the faster we get home, the faster we get the suprise!”

“You like painting, don’t you Ezekiel?” Feyre continued, distracting the boy enough for him to perk up in curiosity, loosening his little balled fisted grip on his father’s leathers. “Would you like me to show you the art room?”

Azriel- albeit reluctantly, lowered his son to the ground, gently encouraging him towards Feyre who happily received his little hand in hers.

The Shadowsinger took his Mate into his arms as replacement, the loss of his son weighing heavy even on his own marred heart.

The boy had never once been out of their sight for so long.

And as Feyre guided him into the Nursery, her sister mouthing a watery ‘thank you’ as a tear cascaded down her cheek, Azriel couldn’t help but let one of his own slip as Ezekiel passed through the doors and out of his sight.

Hesitant in his little steps, but with his cousin there to help him along.

Just as Rhysand had done for his father.

#fanfic #acotar #acotar fic #acotar x oc #acotar x reader #azriel x archeron sister #azriel x original character #azriel x oc #azriel fanfic #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel x reader #azriel #dad!azriel

505 notes · View notes

the-kr8tor · 20 days ago

Text

What's Your Favourite Scary Movie?

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader

Word count: 11.3k

Summary: A camping trip with your so-called friends takes a turn from harmless taunting to gore filled stabbing.

Tags: Use of Y/N sparsely, no specific physical description of the reader (except for clothing), slasher AU, Horror elements, CW bullying, CW food mentions, TW death, TW blood and gore, CW violence. Set in the 80s, CW animal death, drug mention.

Navigation

Octobie 🎸

Music blares in your ears through your headphones as the car passes by numerous pine trees along the road. You flick your eyes over to the rearview mirror when you felt eyes on your face. Sure enough, Flash's smiling eyes stare at you through the mirror. And when you hear muffled giggling, you already know where the delighted laughter is coming from.

As you glance at the passenger seat, Miranda's amused grin greets you. Her blond hair bounces as she tries to play innocent. Even with your music murmuring their words, you know that they're talking about you. So you slyly press pause on your walkman, with their chortling they barely heard the click of the button.

“God, purple isn't doing her any favours. I can't believe we're sharing the same car as the freak.” Andy, a jock like Flash, sneers right behind you as he sits at the far end with the luggage because of his size. “That's the color right, babe?”

His girlfriend, Quinn snorts in her seat next to you. “She’s wearing navy blue, babe. And yes that sweater looks fucking ugly, it's so 1975. I think I saw my grandma wear that once.” She twists in her seat to face her boyfriend, elbow hitting your cheek, but you pretend that it didn't happen for your sanity. She doesn't even mention it. “Are you sure you didn't hit your head during the game?”

Andy puts his arms on your headrest, and again, you get hit by elbows. You're starting to hate your club advisor for putting you in the same car as the people who never even wanted to be part of the forestry club in the first place. They joined because your club was unfortunate enough to have less members and therefore was the target of the popular clique because they were ‘too busy’ to pick a required club lest they don't graduate at the end of the year. Oh how you wish you were in the same van as Thena even though she smells like swiss cheese. But alas, you drew the short end of the stick.

“Or maybe he fell on his head when he was a baby.” Emma says nonchalantly with a book in her hands. She's kind of alright to you, only because she doesn't speak or even look at you.

Miranda giggles in the passenger seat while her boyfriend Flash laughs with her.

“I'm color blind, bitch!” Andy yells, making you wince.

“Yeah, he's color blind!” His girlfriend Quinn agrees. You feel like your head is being split open by her shrill voice. You long for swift death in this car.

“That's your comeback, bruv?” Flash eggs Andy on, you worry that his attention isn't fully on the road.

“W-what? You got a better one, fucker?”

“W-w-what?!” Flash says mockingly. A round of laughter echoes around the small wagon, and you swear you heard Andy growl at the guy. You kind of feel bad for the big guy, if he wasn't such an asshole to you.

More than annoyed, you press play on your walkman as they continue to bicker. Punk music filters through your ears and for a moment you feel alright. But this time Miranda hears the click, your former childhood friend turns to look at you with a condescending smirk.

“Welcome back to the real word, Paste.”

You hate that nickname so much, you wanted to throw the walkman at her face. But you take the high ground and just ignore her like you always do. That damned nickname. She thinks she's so clever for thinking of it when you two were just nine when she caught you scooping out a dollop of paste for a birthday card you were making. She thought that you were about to eat it, hence the nickname, Paste. The birthday card was for her, too bad the trashcan ended up receiving it.

“I told you not to call me that—”

“Bitch, look out!” Andy's gruff voice is grating in your ears, his yell trumps out your music as Andy swerves the steering wheel.

“Shit!” Miranda clutches at her seat belt as you see a deer standing right in the middle of the road.

“Fuck!” Emma, holds on to the front seat just as the car goes sideways, tires skidding on the asphalt, blackened smoke coming out of the rubber.

“Mother fucker!” You brace yourself as the chorus of the music in your ears crescendos, and a tree trunk gets dangerously close to the front of the car. “No—!”

You fall into darkness.

—

You hear an animalistic groan the second you're conscious. Eyes fluttering open, you're met with Emma's flashlight flashing on your face.

“She's awake!” She yells as she roams her eyes over your form from outside the car.

“How long was I out?” You touch your throbbing forehead. It aches but thankfully you don't find blood.

“Just a few minutes, sleeping beauty.” This is the longest time she has had a conversation with you. Her blue hair glistens in the afternoon sun as she opens the door for you. “You hurt anywhere?”

You shake your head. “I'm good…I think.”

She sighs, “good, up and at ‘em.”

You take it one tiny step at a time, once your hiking boots hit the grass, you assess the damage of the car. The hood is busted from the tree curved around the metal. The engine is smoking and the lights are smashed to pieces. There's also a huge scratch on the side of it. Mrs. Williams is gonna kill the whole lot of you when she sees her car.

“Oi, Paste!” You roll your eyes at Flash's call.

“I told you not to call me that—!” The second you turn around and set your eyes on the barely alive deer in the middle of the road, you swallow thickly at the poor animal.

“Gnarly, right?” Flash grins, but when he glances at the deer his smile fades. “What are we going to do with it?”

“Should we bury it?” Quinn says whilst hidden behind her boyfriend.

“It’s still alive.” Your eyes never leave the gasping animal. Crossing the small distance, still wobbly in your feet, you tilt your head at its large wound. Even doctor Dolittle can't fix this.

“What do you suggest we do then, Paste?” Miranda side eyes you. “We can't call for help. There's no payphone in sight!” She stomps her foot like a child. “Gah! I should've joined the homemakers club instead of forestry!”

Emma nudges you, “I think I know what Y/N here is thinking.”

“You do?” You furrow your brows.

“You speak freak now, Emma?” Quinn sneers.

You ignore her. “We should end its misery.”

“Fuckin' hell, mate!” Flash gestures wildly at the deer. “It's still alive, maybe if we wait for Mrs. Williams and the others—”

“They might have already passed this place because you and princess here kept needing bathroom breaks.” You blurt out. Miranda and Flash scoff with a shake of their bottle blond heads.

“Woah!” Emma clasps your shoulder. And you flinch away from her touch.

“Paste here has some fire in her!” Quinn joins in, queasiness gone. Queasy Quinn, you should call her that.

With a clenched jaw, you bend down to retrieve your butterfly knife from your boot. Flipping it open, you roam your eyes at the bewildered group.

“Damn.” Andy whistles lowly. His girlfriend punches his bicep.

“Who's gonna do it?” You ask, the deer continues to wheeze out. Its blood now slowly inching its way over to your feet.

“Not me!” They simultaneously say with their index finger pointing at their noses.

You're camping with a bunch of children it seems. With a sigh, you kneel down next to the deer. Looking into its deep brown eyes, it's a sea that threatens to pull you under its sympathy. Your hand settles atop its blood coated fur, matted under your touch, warm and still oozing with fading life. It huffs at you, bleating like it's pleading to be spared, or be taken out of its misery. Whatever it was, you swiftly stab it in its carotid artery right on its neck, as if you've done it a million times before.

The group's disgusted yells and groans fade in your senses as its crimson flows from the wound down to your knife and hand. It's still warm, you feel like you're death itself. The poor deer stops twisting and kicking, finally falling limp in your hands.

Your blood rushes in your ears, pulse thumping like the beat of drums. Something inside you awakens from its dormant state you've forced it inside your ribcage. It flutters right out of its crystalline cocoon, beginning to fly out, trying to escape the confines of your serrated flesh. Breath running warm, you take out your knife from its body.

“Freak,” Miranda taunts under her breath, you can feel that a part of her is afraid. Does she not realize you're the one holding the bloodied knife?

“You looked like you enjoyed that one, Paste.” Her boyfriend agrees, you send them a tensed glare. They both look away from you. You can feel the fear behind their distant eyes.

“Your sweater is wasted.” Quinn raises a brow with an amused glint in her eyes. “Good, it was ugly anyway.”

You stare at your blood soaked sleeve. “I'll go get cleaned up.”

“You better, you smell like a dead rat.” Andy scoffs, arm slung over his girlfriend's shoulders.

“Go, we'll manage here.” Emma says without looking in your direction, eyes trained on the now dead deer, disgusted by its guts flowing out of its many wounds.

You walk back towards the car where your bag is. Once you reach it, you fall on your knees behind the car to avoid any more teasing from your so-called club mates. Weirdly enough, you don't feel shaken by it, nor disgusted like the rest of them. It's a weird feeling. You haven't felt this way in a long time. But this feeling, this enlightened feeling brings you a familiar comfort, bringing you back to your summer camp days.

After collecting your thoughts, you change into a turquoise windbreaker, blood all wiped clean by a wet handkerchief. Once you hide the knife back inside your boot, you return to the rest of the group with your backpack slung over your shoulder. The tin water bottle and skillet clangs against each other, signaling your return.

“Took you long enough,” Quinn says in her high pitched voice that is glass breakingly worthy. “We came up with a plan.” You didn't even know that they're all capable of thinking. “So we thought that we could wait here for the rest of the club to rescue us—”

“Bad idea.” You cut her off. Their eyes are all on you, and you almost shrunk down from their stares. “I–I think we should hike towards the campsite. We have a better chance of meeting up with them that way. We can't wait out here in the cold, especially since we don't know if they've already passed here.”

“Makes sense.” Emma agrees, still avoiding your eyes. Was that fear?

“But that's so far though!” Miranda kicks at a pebble like a petulant child.

You clench your jaw. “Then wait here, I'll hike up to the campsite.” Fixing your hold on your pack, you start walking away. “Don't blame me when you're all freezing to death.”

“Wait for me!” Emma calls after you, running towards the car to get her own pack.

“Not you too, Emma!”

“I'd rather stay with the survivalist than the cheerleaders!”

“Damnit,” Flash curses under his breath while the rest of them look at him, waiting for a plan. “I hate to say it, but she has a point. We have no idea how to even light a fire. But Paste here can.”

You walk quicker when you hear them following you. If you could sprint away, you would've. But alas, you need to conserve every bit of energy you have to trudge through the last miles towards the designated campsite.

Emma walks side by side with you, well, a few steps apart from you. She's silent for the most part except for her lingering gaze on the side of your face. The rest are already arguing behind you after five minutes of walking. Of course they're arguing about the single granola bar that Miranda packed for herself.

You deafen them out in your ears, wishing that the birds would sing louder in the trees to tamp out their voices. You'd put on your headphones but it broke in half during the crash. The air smells fresh in the forest, with the wind brushing along your cheeks like a gentle kiss. You smile gently at the peace, mind cleared of anything but the road in front of you.

Once the asphalt road transitions to a dirt road, it's now a real hike as your group sees the sign that reads, ‘jumping spider campgrounds.’

“Spider?” Quinn shrieks behind you and the peace is broken. “Please don't tell me this camp grounds is full of spiders!”

You realize that she's talking to you. “It's just the name.”

“You sure, Paste?” Flash questions you in a teasing tone. “They named it that for a reason.”

“Augh!” Quinn scampers behind her boyfriend.

You clench your hand on the strap of your backpack. “I've been here a few times and I've only seen two spiders.”

“Two is too much!” Quinn screams. At least no wild animal would come near the group with her voice ringing out through the entire forest. Unless there are wolves running about, then you'd hide behind Andy too. You're sure the wolves would like to eat him first.

With a headache blooming on the top of your head, you finally make it to the campsite after two and a half hours of walking. It's a small clearing in the middle of the woods with a few picnic tables set up and a dilapidated looking restroom sitting in the corner. Instead of Thena waving at you enthusiastically, there's no one in the campsite. A chill runs down your spine. You suppose it's the cold.

“Fuck.” You utter as you find out that the entire place sits empty without your other club mates and advisor.

Miranda and the rest push past you, shoving you to the side to look for a soul in the campsite.

“No! What the fuck!” Andy screams as he looks under a picnic table.

Emma stands in the middle of the clearing, hands gripping her blue hair. “Maybe they're running late?”

“Two hours late even though they were definitely right in front of us?” For once, Miranda says something right.

“Or maybe we're in the wrong campsite!” Quinn comes out of the bathroom with her hands shaking.

“Or they're out hiking already!” Flash crumples down to his feet, looking disheveled.

Then, all their eyes meet yours simultaneously. Their eyes shimmer under the sun, a slight blue hue falling on each of their faces.

You blink, lips slightly agape. “What?”

“What do you mean what?” Miranda walks over to you, pointing stiffly at your chest. “Where are they, hm?”

“How should I know? I was with you all the entire time. I can't communicate with them telepathically!” You immediately defend yourself.

“What the fuck should we do now?” Emma huffs, hands braced on the picnic table. Again, they all stare at you, as if you hold all the answers.

You don't know what to do either. “We should wait for them. They could just be running late. Or maybe they took a wrong turn—”

“God! I should've just joined table tennis!” Miranda exhales out, words carrying out into the woods.

“Listen.” You try to get their attention again. Which surprisingly enough, they give to you. “We should make camp and build a fire. The cold could kill us out here—”

“The cold?!” Miranda screams again, this time in your face. “You're worried about the bloody cold? We could get eaten by bears! Or fucking spiders!”

“If you could just listen for a second—!”

“I'm gonna look for a payphone.” Flash grabs Miranda, leading her further into the campsite.

“There are no payphones out here—!”

“I need to fucking piss.” Andy interrupt you.

“Don't fucking leave me out here!” His girlfriend follows closely behind.

You huff with a groan, frustrated at the situation. One moment they're listening to you, the next they're walking out into the woods.

“I'll set up the tents.” Emma says from the side. “I don't want to freeze to death.” She takes out her folded tent inside her pack. Clearing her throat, she looks at you. “Do you want me to set up yours?”

“Would you?” You ask with trepidation, what if she fills your tent with dirt and rocks?

“Yeah, sure. My dad used to take me out camping. I hated it but at least I learned some basic survival skills.”

“Like pitching up a tent?”

She chuckles nervously. “Exactly!” Coughing, she walks over to you to take your tent. “No tricks, I don't want you to freeze too.”

With slight apprehension, you give her your tent. Bag still slung over your shoulder, as much as you trust her right now, you don't trust her to give her your entire supply for surviving out here.

“I'll find some firewood and build a fire.” You say, rubbing your arms up and down for warmth.

“‘kay, watch out for jumping spiders. Or just regular spiders.” She jokes, managing to make you smile.

“I have bug spray with me, I'm sure I'll be fine.” Walking away, you head towards the left side of the forest where it's more familiar to you. Getting lost is the last thing you'll need here, especially when you're partnered up with people who wouldn't notice that you're gone.

Your feet aches and your neck throbs, despite it, you keep your head down to collect more firewood. You gather it in your arms, mindful that it doesn't poke a hole in your windbreaker.

You see a perfect branch near a pine tree, it's straight with a few bumps on the wood. It looks like something a kid would take to play as a knight. So of course you would take it.

Arm too full of branches, you bend at the waist to grab one from the forest floor. You don't anticipate all the firewood in your arms to spill over and fall on the mossy ground. It all tumbles down like a domino while you struggle to grab them even with your pack being so heavy on your back. And you're left with a single branch in your hand, sighing and silently cursing.

Left with no choice, you kneel down to collect it all again. You hear leaves crunch behind you, yet you continue to gather all the fallen firewood.

“Need help?” A voice suddenly follows the crunching sound. You don't yell or scream from the surprise appearance of the unknown voice.

You look over your shoulder, windbreaker making a swoosh sound as you move. Your eyes lock with his hazel eyes, he stands there, all six feet and five inches of him, (approximately in your mind) under the green canopy and greener moss underneath his steel toed boots, he looks right at home in the forest. But at the same time, he seems out of place with all his leather clad self, numerous patches stitched and buttons dotted along his jacket. His piercings shine as the light passes above, showing you his chiseled features. He looks like he crawled out of a catalogue, or from a punk album.

The sight of him makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up, but you can't seem to find it in yourself to walk away or look away from him. It's like you're staring at a shark's fin moving underneath the waves, parting the waters in a glorious display of a deadly dance. You know what's underneath, and you know what it entails if you stayed, but you still stand there, gazing upon his mysterious eyes that hold you in place.

He gives you a familiar feeling akin to a cold breeze brushing along your flushed skin, or perhaps a gentle wave pooling around your ankles at the beach. There's warmth and familiar coldness in his eyes, one that you're sure you've seen in yourself.

“H–hi?” You ask, smile a bit wobbly from how awestruck you are. Something passes by his eyes, something akin to fascination.

“Hello,” the stranger grins, eyes crinkling at the corners, hands still tucked inside his pockets. “Are you lost? D’you need help?”

“Not really.” You chuckle nervously. He walks towards you, footsteps barely making any sound. “Are you camping here alone? Have you seen anyone else here?”

He shakes his head, crouching down to pick up all the fallen branches. “Yes, and no one, just you, love.”

You hold a single branch to your chest, “oh, you don't need to help me.”

“I want to, I can't just stand there and let you pick all these up.” He chuckles deeply, you now notice his dimples whenever he smiles. “You ‘ere with your mates? I heard you lot from where I was.”

“Kind of.” You softly smile, finding his own contagious. Something about him makes you feel at ease, more like yourself. “Do you know a payphone nearby? We need it desperately.”

He hands you the branches in your arms, calloused palms brushing along your own. “I think there's one a few miles west ‘ere.”

Your face brightens, and his gaze softens. “That's great, can you take me there? I need to call our advisor. I'm…worried about them, and Flash the moron totaled the car.”

The handsome stranger stands up, and he lends you a helping hand which you take almost immediately. His hand feels cold yet inviting. “So you're with your classmates then? How many are you stuck ‘ere?”

“Yep— kind of, they're my club mates. There's six of us including me.”

He inhales, the corner of his lip curls into a smile. “Alright, I'll help you.”

You sigh in relief. “I'm Y/N by the way.”

He tests your name sweetly on his tongue. Reaching for your hand, he shakes it gently even with you carrying the firewood. You almost fumbled with it when you grasped his hand. “Hobie. Call me Hobie, love.”

“It's nice to meet you, Hobie.” You haven't smiled this much during the whole trip.

“C’mon, I'll show you where the phone is.”

You nod enthusiastically despite the goosebumps running up your arms. “Okay.”

Hobie smiles, a smile akin to a lion's grin. “I'll take those off you, then.” He takes your armful of branches on his own, all the while having his eyes on you. “I can't live with myself if I let you carry this all alone.”

“Oh,” you suddenly feel warm, a good kind of warm. “Can I at least take half of it?”

He chuckles while fixing his hold on the wood. “You can take one.” At first you thought he was joking, but with his raised brow and curl of his lips, you thought otherwise.

You fight a grin. “Just one?” With a nod from your acquaintance, you take a single branch from the pile in his arms. “You sure you can carry it all?”

In a display of strength, he flips the branches over to one arm, carrying it all with no problem. “See? You already took a load off of it.” You tamp down a giggle. He starts to walk away from you, when he notices that you're not following him, he looks over his shoulder casually. “You comin'?”

Looking behind you, your second thoughts about leaving them behind are squashed down by their ugly words uttered to you through the years. “Sorry, I'm coming.” You catch up with him, side by side, you follow him with a small smile.

Leaves crunch under your boots whilst you fling the branch in your hand bashfully, letting the wood brush over the tall grass. The silence permeates through the hike with him carrying the load, and guiding you while you just walk close by him. You've never been the one to be guided, it's always you who has to guide the others, keep a watchful eye so they don't get poison ivy, and you, who has to lug around the supplies. All the while you listen to them expressing their ungratefulness. You stare at his profile, smile tugging at your lips immediately when he gazes back at you wordlessly. It's nice to be taken care of once in a while.

For the first time in a long time, you start a conversation. A friendly one that you know won't end in you getting called a nasty word.

“So why camp alone?” You tentatively start, nails picking at the branch in your hand. “This part of the forest isn't exactly beginner friendly.”

“Who says ‘m a beginner?” He nudges you gently, making you look up from your feet. “My mates and I used to come ‘ere and just stay for an entire week forgettin’ our lives until we got the scent of city smoke out of our noses.” Chuckling, Hobie looks at you through glimmering eyes. “Now it's jus’ me and my motorbike.”

“What happened to them— i–if you're comfortable telling me.”

“A freak accident. There was a forest fire, I barely made it out. But they didn't.” He sighs, you open your mouth for an apology but he beats you to it. “It was a long time ago, no need to say your condolences.”

“Still, I'm sorry. It must've been hard.” You reach out to him, but you decide not to last minute lest you make your new friend uncomfortable.

Hobie leans against your palm before you fully move away, his smile gets brighter when you decide to cup his elbow gently. “Thank you, love. I come ‘ere to look at the shitty condo they built atop it and imagine that it's burnin.’ Ain't that fucked up of me, hm?”

You chuckle, already regretting the sound right after. “I— no, that's actually…uh.”

“Funny?” He completes your sentence while chortling at your flustered self.

You blink, fully laughing with him. “I was gonna say that but I didn't want to offend you!”

“Consider me not offended, love. You've got a sense of humour amidst the fucked up shit in the world, I fancy that in a bird.” The heat on your cheek is impossible to ignore, you have a feeling he knows about it too. “The funny thing is that it's not even done yet, it just stands there on their graves like some fucked up grave stone.” He sniffs, thumb rubbing along the corner of his eye. “My turn to ask a question, what kind of club are you and your mates are in?”

“Forestry. And they're not exactly my mates.” You spat out the last word with malice. You both pass by a towering pine tree and a start to a dirt trail.

“Alright— hold on…” he pauses mid step, with a careful hand atop your shoulder, he reaches for your cheek, “you have red on you, can I?”

You don't usually let anyone touch you, especially someone who's practically a stranger. But the familiar feeling grows with every moment you're with him. As if you've known him for a long time, a long lost childhood friend that you've finally found amidst the throng of worthless faces. So you let him with a nod, let him wipe away the deer's dried up blood caking your cheek. The pad of his thumb is calloused and rough, yet his touch is as gentle as a raindrop falling on your skin. You welcome the feeling wholeheartedly.

“There, all clean.” He doesn't ask why you have blood on you, “it was hidin’ your pretty face.”

“It was just a drop, and I highly doubt that.” You say bashfully.

“That you're pretty or that it hides your face?” His hand rests upon your shoulder, thumb ghosting above your heated cheek. “You’re stunnin’, I wasn't going to let that small thing mark you.”

Your heart lurches in your chest. There it is again, the familiar yet cold feeling washing over you. It's a beautiful contradiction. You're not perturbed by it in the slightest. “Thank you.” you could only manage to say those two words.

Hobie leans away, hand pulling reluctantly away from you. From the way his tender gaze falls on you, you think he feels it too. It's not love, not yet anyway. It's attraction. The kind that's magnetic, the kind that you know he'll fit right in with your missing pieces, the kind that he'd let himself fall into place right next to the spaces that he can and will gladly fill out. His soul glows behind his calm demeanor, as if the two last endangered beings have finally met their match. Feathers plucked from the same bird.

But it's an unspeakable match, one that could end in teeth marks left upon each other’s skin, leaving darkened blood boiling to the surface, caking each other’s maw with his and your own blood. So you two let it simmer, let it boil until one of you cracks under the pressure like trapped frogs in a boiling pot. So for now, you act as if you don't feel it in case you're wrong. Something you wouldn't want to be wrong with.

You bite the inside of your cheek while you continue to follow him. Each of your footsteps match the beating of your heart, and you swear that he can feel it too.

Walking out of the thicket and into a clearing, you two have made it out to a smaller campsite where a single eerie lamp post and payphone stands in the middle. Its paint is chipping from the elements, only leaving a few scraps of red and stickers vandalizing the payphone. There's a steep ledge behind the payphone, showing the top of the green canopies below, and the fading light from the sunset above.

“I'll wait for you ‘ere.” He says next to you, already walking towards a black and red motorbike parked at the edge of the clearing.

“This yours?” You ask with a smile, eyes roaming all over its shiny metal.

He pats the seat before leaning on it. “My treasure, I call her ‘Ripley’”

“From the Alien movie?” You walk closer to him, payphone forgotten.

“You know it?”

“Do I know it?” You say with a laugh, “‘Mother! I've turned the cooling unit back on. Mother!’” You copy the same tone from the movie.

“‘The ship will automatically destruct in T minus five minutes.’” Hobie replies in a mechanical robotic tone.

“‘You... Bitch!’” You and Hobie quote simultaneously, earning a hearty laugh from the both of you.

You've found yourself holding onto his arm, smiling and giggling with him. “Y’know, they've got a screening of it down at the local drive-in.” You tentatively say, eyes turned down at the pile of branches in his arms.

Hobie puffs out his chest, chin turned upwards with a smirk. “You askin' me out, lovie?”

You exhale, moving away with disappointment and a wobbly frown. “N–no, sorry, I didn't know what I was thinking.” Before you could fully walk away, he grabs your sleeve, tugging you gently back to him.

“C’mon now, love, don't walk away now.” He encourages you with a lopsided grin, eyes smiling genuinely as he gazes at you softly. “Ask me properly.” He bracelets his hand around your wrist, holding onto you gently while he runs his thumb over your quickening pulse.

“I—” you swallow thickly, and he ducks down to look into your shy eyes. With his sweet smile, you gather your courage. “Do you want to go watch Alien with me at the drive-in?” You inhale, his grin gets bigger with every word you utter. “We can have p–popcorn, or if you don't like popcorn, we can have chips and—and then maybe soda but if you don't like soda we can—”

He pulls you in, trapped right in the middle of his legs, not closing in around you, making you more comfortable in his tentative embrace. “I like popcorn. And I'll take you on a motorcycle ride right after, like how they do in the movies.”

Your skin is aflame. “Okay,” you nod enthusiastically, “a ride right after— I mean!” You fluster, “a bike ride— with me and and you— of course with me and you, it's stupid if—” you ramble on, tripping over your own words. He waits patiently without teasing you. Instead, he smiles, and nods along. “I— yeah, that sounds good.”

He tilts his head, hand brushing a fallen leaf off your shoulder. “Yeah? It's a date then.”

You sigh longingly. You still can't wrap your mind around at how you manage to pull it off. “Okay, I'll—” you reach inside your jacket, pulling out a small notepad and pen, moving quickly to scribble your name and number, afraid that he'll change his mind. “Here's my number.” You rip the page and then hand it to him.

He shrugs, smirking at you. “My hands are kind of full, love.” Technically it is, but he literally just brushed a leaf off of you a moment ago. “Put it in my front pocket for me?” Looking down at his jacket pocket, he smiles sheepishly.

“You and I both know that you can handle it on your own.” You tamp down a giggle, teeth biting down at your lip while you watch him make a face. “Fine, I'll only do it because you're being cute.” Gently, you place it inside his jacket pocket. Your fingers brush something metallic and sharp, but you ignore it. “There.”

“Finally flirtin’ back, huh?”

“Shut up and hand me a quarter, Hobie.” His guffaw echoes around the clearing as he reaches at his jean pocket to rustle for some spare change. “Sorry, too much?” You wince, thinking that it might've turned him off.

He shakes his head with amusement. “You're cheeky once you've gotten comfortable.” He hands you the coin.

“Well, people usually don't stay too long to find out.”

“Their loss, my win.”

You smile, palms clammy and legs turning into mush from his flirting. Staring at the coin in your hand, you find it having two heads on each side. “I don't think the payphone will take this.” It reminds you of the same lucky coin that your club advisor always carries around.

“Right, sorry, that's my lucky coin.” He grabs it back nonchalantly, then he rummages through his pocket for another one. Checking it once, he gives the quarter to you. “Use it wisely.”

“A lot of people seem to have their own lucky coin.” You twirl the regular quarter in between your fingers.

“You don't have one?” He creases his brows, you shake your head in reply. “‘ere you go then.” Taking the coin from his pocket again, he puts it in the middle of your palm. “For luck.”

“I can't take this, it's yours.” You try to give it back but he pushes your hand away.

“Nah, you can borrow it. Bring it back to me on our date, yeah?”

You chuckle softly, eyes gazing into his own, finding your bashful reflection in his hazel eyes. “Okay.” With a shy nod, you turn towards the payphone to dial your school's number.

—

Hobie waits for you in the sideline while he basks in the sunlight. His eyes are closed while his head is turned up into the heavens, arms cradling the sticks, letting the rays bathe him through the dappled shadows of the canopy above. He looks like an oil painting.

He cracks one eye opening, sensing your presence. “What’d they say?” Straightening up, he tilts his head.

“Uh…” You've forgotten what the school administrator told you for a second. “T–they said that the rest of the club had already called ahead to tell them that they've arrived at the last pit stop. But we were just there and when I asked the cashier at the gas station, she said that she didn't see a van stop by.” You rub at your tired eyes. “I don't know where they are.”

Hobie leaves the side of his bike to cross the small distance towards you. His eyes are full of concern, lips turned into a frown. “‘m sure they're fine, love.” He juggles the wood in one arm to grasp at your tensed hand, giving you enough space to turn away but you don't.

“I’m not worried about them, Hobie. I know they're okay. But…” you squeeze his hand, “I don't want to be left alone with those fuckers.”

He scrunches his nose. “What fuckers?”

“I— forget it, I'll just tough it out until the others get here.”

“Nah, I'll keep you company.” He pulls you gently by your hand, “c’mon, I'll beat ‘em off with a stick if I have to. I have a lot of ‘em.” He shakes the bundle of wood in his arms.

You chuckle, “you don't even know what they've done.”

“I know enough from how you talk ‘bout ‘em.” He shrugs, warm fingers squeezing you back. “They sound like a piece of work.”

“You have no idea.” With a reluctant step, you move towards the trail once again. Hand in hand with Hobie, the two of you head to the campsite where surely they've forgotten about you and your firewood. Or with your luck, the spiders got to them.

“What did they do to you?” He cuts the silence in half. “Do they hurt you?” His tone softens with a tinge of fury within it.

“Not usually.” You reply back, eyes turned away from him. He encourages you with a gentle tug, lips softly smiling at you. Inhaling, you let it all out with hope that it doesn't turn him off with your woes. “The guys just tease me about… everything else. But the girls— they once locked me in the janitor's closet for an entire day. The janitor found me hours after classes ended.” You can hear his sharp inhale next to you. “One time they…uh— threw glue and flour at me during picture day. I had to go home after that and I didn't get my picture taken for the yearbook. It's just blank, fitting, right?”

Hobie shakes his head, eyes swirling with something you can't describe. “No, it's not. They're wankers.”

“I— yeah, they are.” You feel a weight lifted off your shoulders. No one has listened to you like that in years. Before it was Miranda, before she decided that you're not worth being friends with. “I know what you're thinking, I should fight back. I tried, it only made everything worse. They only do it because they think I don't belong in their fancy school. That I'm only there because of my merit, not because of my parents' money or lack of it.” Looking up at Hobie, you see him staring back with a clenched jaw. “I'm sorry, that was….pathetic.” You grip the branch tighter until you can feel the splinters digging into your palm. “We don't get to choose the room we're stuck in. But we can choose the people we let in. Graduation's coming, and I get to kick them out soon.” You smile at him and he smiles back with soft empathetic eyes.

“Maybe sooner than you'd think. And It isn't pathetic, they're the pathetic ones.” You both reach the place where you met him as you question inside your mind what he meant by his first sentence. He stops walking, hand carefully pulling you to a stop. “I have a confession to make. ‘m not ‘ere to grieve.”

You furrow your brows, stopping mid step. “What?”

“I know them, the rich fuckers that torments you.”

“So you know me too?” You let go of his hand, heart cracking.

“No, not you, just ‘em.” He glances behind you where you can hear Quinn's laughter. “Just— I'll tell you after, yeah? For now, I want to tell you that everythin' I told you was real. I do want that date, love. I only ever want to see you.”

“For real?” You reach for him, palm placed on his chest. Hobie drops the sticks unceremoniously, the sound of wood clattering down on the soil.

He then holds your hand in place, fingers curling around it. “Real. I need you to know me fully. Let me in the room y'know.” With a sigh of relief, you lean closer as he mirrors your movements, lips pursing, breath fanning over your lips.

“Paste!” Miranda suddenly yells from behind you. Whirling around, your smile falters. “Shit, there you are! Who the fuck are you talking to, you freak?”

“I—” you turn back around to face Hobie but he's nowhere to be found. Your breath gets stuck in your throat. “He was right there.”

She clicks her tongue at you, “stop tripping and get back to camp! The sun's setting.”

She doesn't help you with the firewood as she leaves you alone in the middle of the forest. You look around in hopes of finding Hobie, but you don't see nor hear him anywhere. Sighing, hope dashed, and chest aching with longing, you walk slowly back to camp.

—

After three hours of setting up camp with barely any help from the others, the tents are fully pitched behind you, and you finally get to sit down and rest near the campfire you built with the same wood that Hobie was carrying. For someone whom you just met, he seems to occupy your mind ever since he left. He told you he'd stay for you, but why would he leave the moment Miranda appeared?

The fire engulfs your frozen heart, you watch as the embers crackle, eyes unblinking at the bonfire. Your hands cradle a can of peaches, you haven't taken a bite of it ever since you opened it, your mind keeps wandering back to Hobie, wondering if he was even real.

“Oi, paste!” Andy calls for you, when you don't acknowledge him, he throws a tin can at you that lands right on your thigh. “Jesus, she's out of it.”

“Did you find some mushrooms out there, pasty?” Quinn's mocking tone makes you glance at them without moving your head. You can see her flinch slightly from your glare.

“Man, if you actually did find some mushrooms, can I have a bite?” Emma asks, back leaning on a log while she nurses a flask of vodka. You can smell it from where you're sitting.

“I didn't find any.” You mutter, eyes flickering down at the fire, vision swirling at the dancing flames.

“Too bad, remember when we found some last time?” Flash chuckles, arm snaked over Miranda's shoulders, who stare at him dumbstruck.

“What the fuck, Flash?!” She slaps his bicep in a resounding smack. “I told you that we can't talk about it!”

“Relax, M, it's been two whole years! Besides, our parents made sure that it stays buried. Literally.” That piqued your interest. Subtly, you listen in. Flash guffaws, fist bumping Andy on his way to snatch the flask away from Emma. He takes a generous sip while Andy cheers him on. “Fuck, that's good.”

“Those mushrooms fucked us up real fucking bad, Flash. It wasn't some bad trip.” Miranda chastises, she turns towards Emma and the others, sneering at each of them. “Did you all not remember what happened?”

“Of course we do, Miranda.” Quinn scoffs, flinging Andy's arm away from her middle. “I can still hear the screams!”

You blink, being practically invisible has its perks. Your hands grip the can, ears straining to hear more of the hushed conversation.

“Screams?” Andy shakes his big head, “try the smell, their burning skins were stuck in my nose for weeks.”

Miranda rubs her face, “you lot have no ounce of empathy do you?”

“Please,” Emma adds, glaring at each of them before stopping by Miranda. “You were the one who insisted we stayed at the campsite instead of our usual place. Now there's a patch of burnt forest where your father's— mind you, my father's, Quinn's mother, Andy's parents and Flash's grandfather, contributed to hide the crime where the condo now stands.”

Your eyes widens, hand slithering its way inside your pocket only to find the two headed coin. So it's real, Hobie is real. So it wasn't a freak accident, and this is what He meant by knowing them.

They killed his friends.

Miranda seethes in place, hands clenched into fists. “I'm not the one who decided to light up in the middle of summer where the dry leaves were! And now we're stuck here, forced to take forestry because a judge said so!”

“Oh fuck you, Miranda.” Quinn stands up, stomping her bedazzled boot on the ground. “If it weren't for my mum then we'd all be in fucking jail! Getting stuck with the freak was the lesser demon!”

“It's ‘lesser evil,’ actually.” You finally add, eyes glancing at each of their angry faces. “And man, how many people did you all kill, hm?”

“It was an accident.” Emma blinks at you, “fuck, great, she knows.”

Andy huffs like a mad bull seeing red flapping in front of him. “You gonna keep quiet about it, paste, or do I have to make you?”

Their stares bore into you, you now realize the amount of danger that you're in. Individually, you can take one down, but with them all after you, you won't survive the morning.

So you dig deep, you free the moth from the pits of your soul, letting it loose. “Oh, I'm going to keep quiet about it. Who would believe me anyway?” You scoop out a peach from the untouched can, bringing it to your mouth, you let the fruit slide down your throat. “Besides, I know something you don't. Something important that could lead to dangerous consequences if you didn't know.”

“What is it?” Emma looks you up and down, brows knitted together in uneasiness.

You tilt your head, grinning but your eyes don't convey the same expression. “Only if you promise not to hurt me.”

They all look at eachother, silently agreeing. “Fine,” Flash starts, “what is it?”

You lean back on the tree trunk, “you forgot to say please.”

They scoff, “please.” Emma says it first, then one by one, they say it with reluctance.

Miranda is the only one who hasn't said a word, but with a steely gaze from her boyfriend, she relents. “Please.” She says through gritted teeth.

You smile. “Mrs. Williams and the others aren't coming.”

“What?!” They shout.

“Yeah, I called the school but turns out they don't know where they are either. They're technically missing.” You pause, watching their expression sour further. “I told them where we are but since we're fairly alright they're focusing on trying to find them instead. So we're stuck here— wait, no, I'm stuck here with a bunch of murderers.” That seems to break the camel's back.

“You fucking freak!” Miranda jumps over the bonfire, lunging towards you with her fist connecting with your cheek. “Say that again!”

You laugh, spitting out blood as she wraps her hands around your throat. The others watch while Emma is the only one that's trying to stop her from choking you out with her hands, desperately failing to wrench her away from you.

“A–all this time,” you wheeze out, “you keep calling me the freakazoid, the fucking weirdo when you and your fucked up little friends are the ones who have actually kill—!” With a yell, she closes her fists around your throat, cutting off your air while you claw at her hands. “Fucking b–bitch!” You manage to let out.

“Miranda, no!” Emma tries to yank her away from you.

“That's enough!” Flash finally tries to do something but Miranda elbows his nose, blood quickly pouring out a second later. “Shit!”

Quinn and Andy slowly back away until they're well into the forest, nowhere to be seen.

“Fucking die!” Miranda squeezes harder as black spots filter your vision, she bangs your head harshly against the log behind you, warm crimson trickling out immediately after impact. “You've always been a thorn on my side! Always so fucking perfect, always the better one!”

You grin despite the blood coating your mouth. “I–I won't be surprised if it w–wasn't an accident. I get it, your mom and dad never loved you enough. Is that it, Miranda?” You choke, using your remaining energy to get the last word out, nails digging into her wrists.

Suddenly, piercing screams echo above your gasps. Flash manages to yank Miranda's grasp around your throat, leaving you breathless and gasping on the cold soil. The three of them look where the sound came from with trepidation rising in their veins.

Holding onto your neck, the skin tender and raw, head swirling, you watch on with wide eyes as Quinn comes out of the thicket covered in blood. Her former pristine white coat is drenched, face splashed with the same ruby hue, trainers leaving a trail of thickened crimson. She holds onto her bleeding arm, lips wobbling as tears leave a streak of clean skin amidst the spray of blood. Her head is oozing more of the ichor as she staggers her way out of the dark.

“H–help.”

“Fucking hell.” Emma holds out her arms for her, face contorted into deep fear. “W–what happened? Where's Andy?”

“He's dead!” Quinn cries, feet shuffling slowly towards Emma. Meanwhile, Flash and Miranda watch on with horror, clutching onto one another. “He doesn't have a head anymore. How will he play rugby now?” Just as when Quinn lets out the last word, the arm she has been holding up falls on the ground, making a squelching sound as it meets the grass below. Emma backs away, hands upon her mouth, shocked and terrified. “Oh, my arm fell.” Quinn chuckles through tears only to then tumble down on the gore filled soil right next to her arm.

“What the fuck?!” Emma shrieks.

“No!” Miranda hides behind Flash, who is also trying to hide behind his girlfriend, they struggle to hide behind one another.

You stare at the tainted dirt where Quinn lays face first. She still gurgles in place, body twitching all the while her arm sits a few ways from her. Your blood rushes in your ears, mouth turning dry, chest heaving to let air in. You have no idea what's happening, but there's one thing on your mind.

Run.

With leaves crunching underfoot, out comes a tall figure dressed in black mechanic overalls. His face is obscured by a macabre theater mask that depicts sadness. In his hand is a bloodied machete, and in the other is Andy's head swinging as he moves. He flicks the weapon free of blood, spraying the tall grass below with oozing iron.

You don't wait for the screams to run ahead. With your neck still aching, head pounding, you run for your life.

The hunting begins.

—

You run into the dark nowhere, panting, vision dancing as you push yourself to your limit. If not for your injuries, you'd have a better time navigating the forest from your acquired skills. You've gained some distance between you and the others, so with an apprehensive peek behind a tree, you sit down on the cold soil, back sliding on the trunk, windbreaker scraping against its rough surface.

With a hand on your chest, you try to even out your shallow breathing. “Fuck.” You mutter, tongue brushing along your dry lips.

Reaching behind you, you feel for your wound. Wincing, you bring your hand back towards you, finding blood coating your fingers. Your survival instincts kicks in, perhaps your years as a volunteer summer camp counselor has its perks. An incident with a bear trap involving a fellow counselor was an accident, it wasn't your fault that they blindly stepped into it. Too bad it forced your camp to close permanently.

Zipping your windbreaker slowly so as to not make any noise, you slowly rip the bottom half of your shirt. Once off, you tie it around your head while biting down on the inside of your cheek to tamp down your pained groans. With a tug, you tighten it fully to help stop the blood flow.

You take a breather, that motorcycle ride with Hobie sounds great right about now— Hobie! Your eyes fly open to the thought of him, he can get you out of here on his bike. If not then you can call for help on the payphone. So you find courage deep in you, with a shaky exhale, you stand up, walking back to the same direction where you ran from. You could only hope that he's alright.

Armed with your butterfly knife, you're careful of where you step on. You avoid dry leaves and sticks, opting to walk on the softer soil instead to lessen the sound you make lest you draw a target right on your back.

After a few minutes of trudging along the dark, you make it back to the campsite. The smell of corpses filters through your nose, its smell is just beginning to rot in the moist air as maggots and crows have managed to find their meal.

“Damn it.” You cover your nose with your sleeve, creeping your way towards your pack. You pass by a very much dead Andy, whose head is left out for the worms to get into. His expression is frozen in fear, mouth agape, and eyes wide in surprise. “That colour suits you, Andy.” You scoff, remembering how he tormented you during class by almost burning your hair with his lighter. You watch as maggots eat their way into his eyeball, eyes unable to look away for a moment.

Getting inside your tent, you give one last look at Quinn laying on the ground, unmoving now and skin turning into chalk white. Red still pools around her while the quiet of the night permeates through the chill autumn air.

Pushing the tent open, you enter to grab your backpack on the ground. Finally, hope blossoms in your chest, but the sound of a twig snapping near you freezes you on the spot. You slowly grab your knife next to your leg, all the while barely making any sudden movements. Your eyes flicker on your left, a shadow forms behind the yellow tent, slowly making its way towards you.

You follow its movements, hand gripping the knife until it leaves indents on your skin.

A bead of sweat slides down your temple as the shadow makes its way to the front of your tent.

Breath stuck in your throat, you raise the knife above your head, ready to strike.

A shadow of a hand reaches towards the tent entrance, and you ready yourself.

The tent opens and already you're lunging at them with your knife raised and hand clutching at their front.

“Jesus, it's me!” Flash yells from under you, hands gripping at your windbreaker, eyes wide and blown out as blood flows from a cut on his cheek. “Lower your damn knife, paste.”

“Your girlfriend tried to kill me, why should I?”

“Because I'm not her, duh?!” He shakes his head, hands raised next to him in surrender. “Listen, let's set our differences aside for a second, okay? I don't know a damn thing about surviving out here but I do know that we've got a bigger chance of staying alive if we stay together.”

You clench your jaw, weighing your options. If push comes to shove, you can use him as your shield since he's bigger built than you.

“...fine. But you listen to me, and do what you're told or I'll leave you here.” You push yourself off him, the knife never leaving your grasp.

Flash nods, standing up and brushing himself off. “Do you have a plan? Because you sound like you have a plan.”

“I do.” You say whilst going back inside the tent to grab your backpack. Once you emerge, you find Flash standing above Andy's decapitated head. “C’mon.” Beckoning him, you open your flashlight. He still stands there, staring at his friend's head. “Flash, do you want me to leave you here?”

He sighs, eyes trained on the rotting head. “He was my best friend. I should've told him that I slept with Quinn.”

You snort, “trust me, buddy, he knows.”

“What?” He turns to you.

“Come on before he gets back.”

Flash takes one last look at Quinn's body and Andy's head before jogging to catch up to you. “So how did you know?”

“Shut up, I don't want to talk to you.” You ignore him while walking the same path you and Hobie took.

“Jeez, you're no fun.” He says while making a disgusted face at Andy's dead body that you stepped over nonchalantly.

You whirl around, flashlight aimed at his face as he scrunches up his nose. “This isn't supposed to be fun, Flash. Say one more word and I'll leave you out here, because if he hasn't gotten to Miranda and Emma yet, you'll be the next one he targets.” He nods furiously, frown evident on his face. “Good.”

After a few good minutes, you find the same purple flower you saw while walking with Hobie. “So how do you know that I'm next—?”

“Because if it was me, I'll kill the ones who can fight me off first.”

“And you know this because?” He asks you suspiciously, eyes narrowed at you.

“Just nature. And lots of horror movies.” He continues to stare at you with the same face. “I'm not the killer, you moron. I was with you when he attacked, remember?”

“Yeah, but in those killer movies there's always more than one killer.” He leans closer to you, eyes staring daggers. “You one of them, paste?”

You pause, craning your neck to stare at him back with venomous eyes. “You imbecile.” You mock before walking again. He stands there for a moment, unblinking at where you stood. He follows after your light is starting to fade from his line of sight.

“So…you're not one of them?”

“There's the phone.” You roam your eyes around the clearing all the while ignoring the man next to you. The pay phone still stands completely unharmed, and the lamp post flickers in the night, bulb whirring above the sound of owls. Your heart aches when you don't find a sign of Hobie being there or his bike. You like to imagine that he's far away from the chaos right about now, at least he'd be safe.

Crossing the distance, you pick up the phone, finding it still in good condition as you hear the dial tone. You rummage through your pockets for a quarter, but to no avail. And then you check around the payphone and the coin flap to check for any forgotten coins. You don't find a single one. “Fuck, do you have a quarter?”

“Shit.” Flash pats his jean pockets and varsity jacket pockets. Again, finding empty handed. “Wait—” he takes off his baseball hat to take out a crisp bill. “Here, it's my emergency money.”

You stare at the bill wordlessly while pointing at the coin slot. He shakes his head, gawping at you. You gesture at the slot then at his bill in hand until he gets it.

Realization flickers in his dim witted eyes. “Oh.”

“Oh.” You mock his tone. “We can't make a call without one.”

“What now?”

“I say we just follow the road and hope that a car comes by.” You point at the dark dirt road ahead of you. “Better get walking—”

An ear piercing scream startles Flash, while your head swivels down at the direction of the sound.

“Shit, that's Miranda!” Flash yells, grabbing your hand in his iron grip, and gunning down the slope to get to the source. “I'm coming, baby! I'm so sorry I slept with Quinn, Darlene, and the rest of your cheer team!” His voice rings in your ears while you're trapped in his hold, you try to pull away and get back to solid ground as he continues to drag you away to the dark abyss but he's too strong for you.

“Flash! Let me go!” You pull and tug with all your might but you're left trying to catch up with his speed while your feet drag behind. “Fuck!” A branch hits you right on your face, getting a mouthful of leaves while you almost lose your balance as you skid down the slope.

“Baby—! Oh mother of fuck!” He freezes, hand falling from your wrist, staring at the unfinished building looming overhead amidst the tall trees and overgrown grass. “Shit, it's this place.”

You glance around the space, finding abandoned heavy machinery, concrete, and trailers littered around the skeleton of a would be condo.

“Flash!” Miranda appears from behind a pillar, limping her way towards you and Flash. “He got Emma!” She embraces him while Flash's attention is glued on the grey building with its protruding metal that creaks in the wind and moss covered concrete. “I definitely tried to save her but she tripped and now she's dead with her body chopped in half!”

You glance at her, finding her tears utterly fake. “Or you tripped her.”

She leans away from flash's chest, eyes narrowed to slits and lips frowning. “You're still alive?”

“No thanks to you.” You smile bitterly at her. Before she gets a word in, you're already walking away towards the tall building, eyes scanning its skeletal structure. You notice the ground is darker from where you stand. “This is where it happened.” You turn towards the couple, “this is where they died.”

“Listen, it wasn't completely our fault.” Miranda stalks closer towards you and you quickly ready your knife in your hand. “We were just playing around, we didn't mean to.”

“You're grown ass adults, Miranda. Did none of you listen to Smokey?”

“No, we were too busy having friends, paste.” She mocks, even in danger she finds it in herself to torment you. “That is not our problem right now, we need to go—!”

A sudden bright spotlight appears in front, you squint your eyes, managing to see the masked figure behind the wheel of a motorbike. Oh. He revs his engine, taunting Flash and Miranda.

“Oh fuck, he's back!” Flash yelps, surprisingly enough, he shields Miranda behind him, arms raised to his sides. “Touch my girlfriend and you die!” You raise a brow at his sudden heroic action.

“Yeah, you tell him, baby!” Miranda coaxes him while you step away and watch the scene unfold.

The masked killer revs his engine again, this time, he rides towards you at lightning speed. Smoke billows out from behind him, blanketing the whole area with fog.

The couple screams, bracing for impact while you step back with your eyes only looking at the killer.

Instead of plowing them down with his bike, he skids on the ground sideways, stopping a few ways ahead of the three of you. Once the sound dies down to a murmur of the engine, Flash and Miranda open their eyes to find the killer tossing his machete at their feet.

“Are you surrendering?” Flash turns to you. “Is he surrendering?” You could only shrug.

The figure points at the blade, and then gets off his bike, letting it run in the background and using its light to illuminate the place. Wordlessly, he stomps over to the front of the bike, his figure obscuring the light a bit.

You can't see his eyes from behind the mask as he gestures towards the glade once again. “I think he's trying to tell you to pick it up and fight him.”

“What?” They both look at you with surprise, they simultaneously turn towards the figure, only to find him eerily nodding in approval.

Flash points at himself, and the man nods slowly. “Fuck.”

“Pick it up, babe, show him how it's done!” Miranda cheers him on, pushing him towards the machete. “End his miserable life so we can get back to our lives.” She spits out.

With a gulp, Flash bends down to grab the blade with reluctance. Miranda moves closer to your side, hand grasping your arm. You let her while Flash assumes the position in front of the figure.

“Come at me!” Flash yells, lunging for him.

With a quick side step, the figure dodges with barely any movement. Flash follows ahead with his attack, raising the weapon over his head to slice but his miserable attack is only met with air. All the while, the stranger has his hands hidden in his pockets, upper half barely making a move as he keeps dodging Flash's desperate slashes.

“Stop moving!” Flash frustratingly yells while sweat flows from his forehead.

“You're not fair!” Miranda adds, yelping when Flash gets close to cutting the figure's hand off, but of course he dodges at the last minute. “Fuck! Come on, baby!”

Flash moves to stab instead, “you fucker—!”

With quick movement that you could barely decipher, Flash suddenly has a knife in his nape. Blood ebbs from his neck as he stands in place, gurgling and choking on his own blood.

Miranda's piercing scream echoes around the clearing as birds caw in the distance. “Oh god!”

The figure takes his knife back with an ugly squelch of muscle and blood. Crimson spraying all over his mask as he holds the knife in his gloved hand. He tilts his head, the sharp end of the knife pointed directly at you, to then slowly go down from your neck to your hand that's gripping your own knife.

Miranda shakes you, “he wants to fight you, Y/N!”

“Hm, I don't think so.” You mutter under your breath while gazing at him. “Why should I?” You glance at her horrified face. “You saw what happened to Flash, I can't fight him.”

“P–please.” She says in between sobs, “do this for us.” You roll your eyes and she shakes your arm. “I never wanted to hurt you, paste.” She pleads, the nickname earning a scoff from you.

“You once slashed my tires just because I was paired with your ex for a project.” You say calmly, façade now fully broken, moth freely flying over you. “I almost crashed into a tree, Miranda.”

The figure steps closer, knife now at his side, waiting for your next move.

“T–that was just a joke! We were just—!” Her words are suddenly cut off by your knife stabbing at her jugular. She gasps as blood sprays at your smiling face, her body falling, hand stuck around your knife, you finally turn towards the masked man.

“And here I thought you'd leave me alone with them.”

He peels off his mask, revealing Hobie's awestruck expression. Blinking, chuckles slowly escape his pierced lips. “Holy shit, love. You're brilliant.”

You shrug, smile never leaving your lips. “You should've said something, I would've helped.” You say, reaching for your knife back, flicking all the blood away before tucking it inside your boot. “

“I thought…” he crosses the distance, hand reaching for your own, he loops his pinky around your own, gently tugging you into his bloodied form. “... never mind that now.” you can hear sirens echo from somewhere. “You still up for that ride?”

“I thought you'd never ask.”

Support banner by @/cafekitsune

Custom banners by @the-shroom-garden

131 notes · View notes

mvltisstuff · 1 year ago

Note

hi!! could you possibly do a one-shot where buck and reader are flirting during the dosed episode? like they get high and are handcuffed and are just giggling and flirting and then accidental confession or something and then the next day they’re just like “i’m pretty sure we’re dating now..” thank you so so much!! this idea just made me giggle so <33

you get me so high - e.b

summary: request

evan buckley x reader

gif does not belong to me

a/n: i adore this idea, thank you for sharing <3 i worked on this very sporadically, and i’m not the biggest fan of it but i hope you enjoy!

whoever brought those brownies in was an angel to y/n. yeah, a felony for sure, but she’d be lying if she said she didn’t secretly enjoy it.

even though the whole station had been haunted by taylor and her team the entire day, all of the worries of the job seemed to vanish. buck wasn’t sure why, but he just saw everything different than he has before. nature called for him and he was more than excited to be at his job.

he just wanted to laugh at everything, each little girl in front of him was the most adorable thing he’s ever seen. he watched y/n from across the room, sitting on the floor and playing with a girl in a massive dress shaped like a pastry.

“where did you get this dress?” she asks, running her fingers down the satin on the side.

“my mommy bought it for me!”

“can she buy one for me?” y/n asks, turning her head to see the grown firefighter skipping over.

“y/n!” he shoots out quickly, jogging over to lean next to her on the ground.

“hi buck! will you buy me a dress like this?”

“only if you buy me one,” he smiles. “maybe we should put bobby in one.” he starts completely laughing at the thought of bobby in a pretty pink dress, with a sash and a tiara.

“what is going on- buck!” chim shouts. “can someone help us over here?”

“how are we not helping?” buck asks, leading y/n to just shrug. they glance over at eddie in the corner, looking at all the pageant girls like they have 5 heads. he almost looks fearful of them, swaying in his spot.

the next few minutes were a blur, and suddenly they were all handcuffed together against a wall. hen, eddie, buck, and y/n were all connected by their hands, being watched by athena like they misbehaved at school.

“ooh, you made him cry!” buck teases, looking at the tears streaming down eddie’s face. y/n just looks closer to athena’s face.

“you’re a hot cop, thena,” y/n speaks airily, just smiling cheekily at the officer in front of her.

“you guys are high as hell and you’re on duty.”

“what?” hen exclaims. “i didn’t smoke anything-“

“well you ate something! someone brought marijuana brownies into the station, so you’re all off work.”

the team just looks around in shock, not fully caring until y/n and buck start giggling once more. “just- just sit down against this wall, and do not move.” athena demands, walking away to deal with the other emergency in the main room.

y/n and buck sat fine against the wall, comparing hands and very lightly slapping each other on the sides. a few spouts of silence would happen for a few minutes while the group of stoners just watched the world pass in front of them.

“buck,” y/n whispers.

“what?” he asks.

“you’re really cute, like i just figured i’d let you know.”

“thanks, you’re a cutie, too,” she giggles at his words, throwing her head back against the wall as he just glances at her. normal, sober buck would’ve had a racing heart and nerves fluttering all over his body because she told him he was cute. he knows he’s not bad looking, but hearing it from her is when he truly believes it. now, he just figured why not? yolo, anyway.

“no, you’re like cute cute. like hot oiled up firefighter cute.”

“that means so much, y/n,” he says, the sly remark almost making his heart clench.

“i want you under my christmas tree.”

“well, i want you in an easter egg for me.”

“well, i want you-“

“can you just shut up?” eddie asks, still distressed about being handcuffed and drugged. “we get it, you’re into each other. and what happens when you’re not high?”

“i don’t remember talking to you,” buck teases, giving eddie a side eye but keeping his head directed towards the pretty girl next to him.

“alright,” athena comes back into sight. “let’s get you all home, maybe sleep off some of this.”

the next morning, y/n remembered every little thing she said to buck, and he remembered every little thing he said to her. they hoped maybe it was like alcohol, making them forget what they may or may not have said, but nope. it was clear as day. it didn’t feel as awkward, though. it felt easier. like a weight was off their shoulders after being weighed down for so long.

when they both arrived at work, the look from the other just told them everything they had to know. buck meant everything he said, and so did she. her eyes lightly wandered over his, and he didn’t even make her say anything. they both knew that those cookies made a great thing burst open.

764 notes · View notes

hikarimiyanaga · 9 months ago

Text

Healing A Broken Heart (Part 1)

Summary :

You and Wanda are in love. At least you thought so. During a particularly bad fight, she tells you that if she had a choice, she wouldn't be with you.

And that, in your thousands years of life, is the most painful thing you've ever heard that was said to you.

PS. This was inspired by that one reddit post and it snowballed from there.

You drink another shot. For the past few weeks and so, this is the only thing you've done during the nights. Drink.

As if it could make you forget. Forget the pain. Forget the memories. Forget Wanda.

But it couldn't, it was only for the night for you still remember everything the day after.

You really hated being a semi-eternal.

You were created to be with the other eternals but there was something wrong with you. You didn't have any powers.

Still, Arishem sent you along with Ajak and the others as a reporter.

You had the immortality and physique but nothing else.

Still, Sersei, Makkari, Sprite, Kingo, Phastos, Thena, Ajak, Druig and Gilgamesh were family.

So you did exactly what you were sent to do. Report. Until you and the others' rebellion years ago. Now THAT, that was a fun time.

But that? Being a hero? Something you're not? It was all in the past.

You just wanted peace. When the whole Westview happened. Ajak sent you, said something about knowledge in magic.

And so you helped. Both Wanda and Agatha.

Wanda stayed with you along with the darkhold and Agatha went with her coven.

You made sure that she made the first move. And if she never truly liked you then it was also fine. But she did. She kissed you that one night and you kissed her back.

You'd cook for her. Teach her more about her own magic. And she'd love you. She'd make you laugh. She'd make you feel peace.

It stayed like that. For Five years. You were both in love or so you thought.

She was getting impatient. You can tell. You knew that your method was slow. But it was also the safest. So that she can travel freely. Did you know that she would leave you for her boys? Of course, she will. And you'd understand. Those twins were her kids. Hers. And you-

Well, you didn't even know what you are to her.

And during the fight with her, you confirmed it. She was just with you because you knew the safest way. Because you had a way.

And so you left her. And left her notes, you weren't cruel as to leave her without knowledge on getting back with her kids.

And so here you were. In a random bar somewhere in the US. Where you stopped counting your drinks and stopped caring about yourself.

If anyone needed help then you would be there in a heartbeat, helping once again. But for now? You need to forget.

"Ah. Here you are. I knew it." You hear Sersei say as she sits besides you. She and Makkari have been trying to find you when they went to visit Wanda a week ago and you weren't there. Sersei quickly texted Makkari as you drink again.

"Why are you trying to find me, dear changer?" All of the eternals had nicknames from you.

"We were worried. What happened?" You chuckle at that.

"Just that-" You don't finish when someone hugs you from behind. You laugh as you turn and hug Makkari. "Hi, fast one. Sorry that you couldn't reach me."

"It's okay. Why are you here though?" Makkari asks and you sigh.

"Not here. Shall we go on a walk?" You pay for your tab and leave the bar with them.

You all get seated at a park and you look ahead.

"We got into a fight." Makkari raises an eyebrow at Sersei. A fight? That was it? "And she told me that if she had a choice then she wouldn't be with me." That made them both flinch. They knew your insecurities better than anyone else. The two of them were your closest confidants after all. "So I left. Don't worry about it, though, I made sure to leave her notes. And if she did become the Scarlet Witch and destroyed everything again then-" You inhale at that. "Then I'll help stop her."

"But Wanda was-" you shake your head at Sersei. Just hearing her name is enough to make you cry. You wipe away your tears.

"I need some time alone. Call me in the emergency phone if any of you need help." You stand then smile sadly at them. They both just watched as you leave.

6 months. It's been half a year since you saw Wanda. But by God did she get even more beautiful. You were helping Peter Parker's mess and making sure that Strange didn't do that fucking spell again. You really hated that spell, for fuck's sake.

You sigh in relief as everything ends and no one needed to forget him.

"This is why I don't mess with memories." Sersi, Druig and Makkari turns to you. "It's too messy."

"Really? I thought you of all people would want to do it." Druig says and you hum.

"It would make it easier, that's for sure." Wanda flinches at your statement. She was near enough to hear but far enough to not get spotted. Did you want to forget her? "But what the brain cannot remember, the heart and soul will surely do." Wanda was sure now. She approaches the eternals and you realize her presence, you quickly go to Makkari and tell her to take you home.

"But-" Makkari tries to argue but you shake her.

"Just this once! I swear, okay? Please, Makkari. I can't. My heart can't." You get teary eyed and Makkari turns to Sersei. They turn to Wanda who was going to call you.

"Just this once." You nod at her and Makkari quickly leaves the battlefield with you intact. She stops at your current house in New Zealand. You sigh in relief and hug her tight.

"Thank you." You kiss her forehead. "I owe you one." Makkari nods and leaves you alone. You get inside and start to pack. You just know that either Makkari or Sersei will snitch on you. You don't blame them, though, you know that Wanda has been persistent on seeing you and wanting to know where you are.

You didn't know why she wanted to see you.

You don't know want to know.

But if you had to take a guess then maybe she'll break it off for real. You wipe away your tears again. The partying and drinking for the past 6 months has done nothing good for you.

It just made you forget temporarily.

You look at your things. It was only one suitcase, the benefits of having too much money. You hum.

Time to go there then.

Another 6 months has passed by. This time, you knew it. You have peace.

Well, you did still have nightmares. Your insecurities are still there. But at least here, you were truly alone. No expectations. No betrayals. Just you.

Not even Sersei or Makkari knew where you were. You didn't want the risk. You just can't run into the source of your heartache.

Or so you thought. Because your phone rings. The emergency one.

"Hello?" You ask and it was Sersei who answers.

"We need help! Or rather your friend, Strange needs help!" You hum as you ready yourself.

"What do you mean?? She can travel the multiverse????? FREELY?????" You ask and Stephen nods. "Whoa. Holy shit. You do know this makes you like the singular only person in the multiverse that can do that. Like damn." Sersei raises an eyebrow at you.

"You're an eternal."

"Semi! But yeah, I might be the only one. Nice! The name's Y/N! We have no last names." America looks at Stephen who nods at her.

"I'm America. America Chavez."

"Nice to meet you! So why am I here?"

"She needs help."

"Some monsters have been chasing me all throughout the multiverse and-" You hum. You get your phone out and call Agatha. You stop America and they all look at you.

"Agatha. The darkhold is not being overused is it??"

"Nope. Wanda is learning it slowly. Just like you taught her. Why?"

"Just checking." You hang up and hum. "Has there been any portal sightings like the one from multiverses?" Stephen shakes his head at you.

"Through every universe, right?" America nods. "You don't need me. You need Wanda."

"You sure?"

"Yes. She can travel the multiverse too. Just not as freely as America. We should go to her."

"We? Are you ready to see her?" Sersei's question makes you flinch.

"Not really but-" you look at America. "A kid needs help so-"

"Got it. Let's go then." Stephen says and you nod.

'Oh. She hasn't moved. At all.' You thought to yourself as you look at the house you lived in a year ago. Stephen knocks on the door and you step back as Wanda opens the door.

"Oh. Strange. How unusual-"

"We need your help. Y/N says that you-"

"Y/N!? Have you been in contact with her?? Not even Makkari or Sers-"

"That's because they're snitches." You walk up the familiar steps and smile sadly at her. "Hi, Wanda."

"Y/N. Y-you're here." She says and becomes teary-eyed.

"Yeah. We need your help."

"I'll get us some teas." You nod absentmindedly as you look around, everything was the way you left it. It felt like you've never left at all. The books were in the arrangement you did. The pictures and decorations were never removed. You smile a little at the pictures.

There were five on display.

One with you and the eternals.

One with Wanda and her brother Pietro.

One with you, Wanda, and everyone, as many as the frame could fit.

One with you and Wanda just hugging and smiling at each other.

One with Wanda and Vision.

"Whoa! This is you, right, Y/N??" America asks as she looks closely at the pictures, you didn't even notice her standing from the couch.

"Yeah. It's her. She lived here before." Wanda answers for you as she serves the tea. You hum, agreeing with her as you get your cup.

"So you know magic??" America tilts her head at you as she sits besides you again.

"Know, yes. Use? No." America tilts her head again so you chuckle. "I only know spells, uses, and stuff like that. I couldn't do it even if my life depended on it. Ask Sersei sometime, she knows how many times I tried to see if I ever had some sort of power." America hums.

"And you never discovered any?" You shake your head.

"Nope." You smile at her as you sip your tea. Oh shit. Did she-? You look at Wanda and she smiles at you.

"It's your favorite." She confirms and you sigh. "So, what did you three come here for? What can I do to help?"

"First, of all are you halfway through the darkhold?" You ask and Stephen glares at you.

"Uh. Yes. I am. I think I am." You hum.

"Can you call it and I can check?" Wanda nods and calls the darkhold to her hand, Stephen scoffs at you and you glare at him.

"Look away, for fuck's sake. A child's safety is on the line!" He grumbles as he leaves the house and America was about to follow him when you stop her. "Stay here for a minute. I need to confirm-" You open the darkhold and hum. "Yep. Halfway through. You can travel with America now."

"What?" Wanda asks and you hum.

"So, the predicament is this. America is being chased around by monsters. Darkhold monsters and so I have reason to believe that one of your variations is chasing her. Possibly, to either get her power or use her. I am not sure. So I need you to travel with America. With Stephen too and solve this."

"What? How?"

"By defeating the other you."

"WHAT!? HOW!?" You hum at her question.

"Simply put, you'll need to introduce a variation of me."

"You?" You nod and grin at her.

"You know the phrase, 'every me loves every you'?" Wanda nods at you. "I have reason to believe that is happening between us. Not everyone gets their shit together or end up together or even meet but still. Every variation of me will love every variation of you."

"How are you so sure-"

"Phastos made a device. I used it like a thousand times. Trust me in this. I-" your phone rings, effectively cutting you off. You look at it and see Phastos's name. "Speak of the eternal." You answer it. "Wait. You caught one??????" You hum. "Okay. Okay. I got it." You nod. "Yeah. I still have it." You nod again. "Got it. We'll be there." You hang up and look at Wanda. "Change of plans. We're going somewhere." You hold out your hand to her and she accepts it. That makes you smile, at least she isn't allergic to your touch. "Come on, America. Time to meet my family." You grin then go outside where Stephen was waiting. "Stephen, open the portal to Wakanda!" Stephen nods and does as you say.

"It's a good thing that you have Thena, huh?" You grin at him, agreeing with him.

You look at the monster then at Phastos then at Thena and Gilgamesh.

"You guys are seriously amazing. Thank you." You took out a pair of glasses from your pocket and toss it to Phastos. "As I said."

"Have you used it at all for the past year?" Phastos asked and you blush.

"Only a thousand more times." You scratch your neck. "One of the reasons why I never get bored."

"I'm just relieved you haven't decided to get Phastos to make you a multiverse traveling machine." Ajak says and you smile sadly at her.

"I had what they had. Mine was just the saddest attempt." You look at the ground knowing that most of the people there are looking at you.

"Done!" Phastos exclaims and you smile, relieved that the attention is off you. "So, this will hopefully will let us know which universe this creature is from and the glasses will guide us there."

"You mean them?" You point to Stephen, America and Wanda.

"What? You're not coming??" America asks as she gets your hand.

"Sorry, kid. I'll only slow you guys down." You ruffle her hair. You look at Wanda then smile at her. "Try to keep this kid safe. She's pretty unique. And she'll be able to help you too."

"Got it! Universe 567. That's where the monsters are from."

"Good. Here's how the glasses work." You begin instructing the three of them and making sure they knew what to do.

Wanda is to make sure that the traveling of the group is safe and sound, she can fight off the multidimensional monsters.

Stephen is to make sure to locate your variant.

America is to make the group travel freely.

You wave them goodbye and smile as they leave. You collapse to the ground and Makkari is by your side immediately.

"I'm okay. Just really-" you let the tears out and sob.

The dam finally breaking through. You don't know if you'll ever get over Wanda.

It took them a week to find you.

Turns out you were a pretty badass Black Widow in Universe 567. You were trained alongside Natasha so the two of you were like siblings.

567 you tried to refuse first but when she saw the monster firsthand, she finally relented and agreed.

Meeting 567 Wanda was chaos. She tried and tried to resist both her variant, Stephen and 567 you but when the avengers arrived, it was a done deal. 567 Wanda was captured and stopped. 567 you fought for her rehabilitation though, stating that you won't ever forgive yourself if you let another one fall to that deep abyss. 567 You promised to help her, to take care of her and teach her how to be compassionate again. As they were leaving Universe 567, Wanda couldn't help but smile as 567 you helps 567 Wanda to her feet.

It looks like your and hers 567 variants will be okay.

You were back in your old tattered hut in the Philippines. The peaceful home you've been at for the past half a year.

You hear your phone rings and hum.

"Yeah?" You answer it.

"They're back! Should I tell Makkari to get you?" Phastos asks and you sigh.

"No need. I had my time here already. Do you think Sersei has room in her apartment? I'd rather just room with her and Sprite."

"I'll ask her. So you're done avoiding her?" You laugh at that.

"Never. I'll be there." You hang up and look around. "Goodbye, peace." You leave and never look back.

PS.

Posting this since it's sitting in my draft. Not finished yet but wanted to get it out.

#wanda maximoff fanfic #wanda x y/n #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x you #marvel fanfiction #marvel fic #marvel fanfic

93 notes · View notes

redrydersrequiem · 10 months ago

Text

Golden eyed phantom chapter 2

Paring Druig x reader

Rating explicit 18+only,minors,ageless,blank blogs will be blocked

Plot: phantom of the opera au

Warnings theres no smut this time and sorry if its a little shorter then the first chapter

The audience's cheers roll over you like waves as the final curtain closes. You're quickly whisked away, Madame Ajak, bless her, swiftly guides you to your new dressing room before the reporters, opera patrons and fans could move to swarm the backstage area wanting to meet the new star of the Opera de Popular. Much to your dismay however the entrance was already chaotically crowded with people. Thankfully Mr Nelson and Murdock where already front and center, Mr. Nelson was gladly answering the reporters and basking in the crowd's awe while Mr Murdock alongside Gilgamesh provided a more physical barrier, not letting the over eager patrons near, allowing you and madame to finally enter the dressing room.

Once inside silence overcomes you, finally feeling like you could breathe deeply,counting to ten a few times to calm the ringing beating of your heart. It’s not till madame cleared her throat that you looked up, an explosion of color filling your gaze. Flowers of every size, shape and color fill every available surface, bouquets of some of the most exotic flowers you've ever seen.

“Wow” Madame just laughs at your shocked face

“This is to be expected my dear” she goes about the room examining the abundance of flowers, focusing on one of the bigger bouquets.

“Look, this one is from Count Ikarus and his family. It sees that young man is quite smitten with you”

“Yes so it seems”

“What’s wrong my dear.? You don't seem excited about your successful debut?”

“No it's not that Madame i'm truly grateful for everything that has happened.”

“But?”

At first you don't answer but Madame gives you one of her motherly looks and all resolve crumbles

“But…… it feels wrong somehow like something is missing.”

“Something? Or someone?”

As soon as the words leave her mouth the image of your angel comes to mind, bringing a light blush along with it.

“I see that look dear, it's alright. It’s perfectly normal for someone your age, all I ask of you is to be smart about your choices ok.?”

You just smile nodding yes not really wanting to go into a whole spiel with her right now, but thankful for her all the same. The women truly being the only mother figure you've ever known

“I will mama jaks.”

“Ohhh thank you dear, I haven’t heard you call me that in so long i've missed it”.

“I'm sorry I.”

“No no, none of that. I'm glad to be mama jaks to you, you and sersi are my daughters whether you like it or not.”

She kisses you on the forehead before urging you up from the sofa and towards the changing screen to help you out of the heavy gown you've been in all night.

Once deglamorized you stealthily made your way to the dancers entrance avoiding any leftover fans, walking quickly to meet up with sersi. Your whole opera family was celebrating your triumphant first show at Gil and thenas house, Gil’s cooking and drinks galore is what kingo had stayed. Not wanting to keep everyone waiting, you and Sersi begin the familiar walk. Now it does dawn on you, that two young women shouldn’t probably be walking in the deed of night in Paris’s strees but the promise of having Gilgamesh’s famous (your favorite dessert) all to yourself overweighs all those worries

“I can’t wait to see what all Gil cooked. I'm starving.” Sersi simply laughs at you

“How is all you can think about is food after the day you've had.?”

“Hey you try being poked and prodded at and then thrust in front of hundreds of people in a heavy costume and not be hung/“

Her hand grabbing your arm halting your steps stops you mid sentence. She’s even pushing you behind her when you finally notice the black carriage that has now pulled up alongside the two of you. You both give each other knowing glances as you assume the defensive stances thena had drilled into you.

Just as the door opens and you both go to move a familiar head of brown hair steps out.

“Ikarus?”

“Little (y/n/n) and friend. I apologize if I frightened you mademoiselles, i was caught by opera patrons and was unable to speak with you. Imagine my luck to stumble upon the new star of Paris opera walking along the street.

“Yes, how fortunate. I'm sorry, if i had known you wished to speak with me i would have waited at the theater.

“No it's my fault I should have tried harder to get away, um if you could, may I have a moment of your time.?”

“Of course you may!” Sersi answers for you. “I’ll be just over here while you two speak” she nods to both of you before stepping over to study a random storefront, acting the picture of innocents and not like she just threw you under a carriage. Turning back towards Ikarus you notice his eye haven’t left sersi.

“Ehhem”

Ikarus’s head snaps back into place a practiced smile falling into place

“what can i do for you count de solar?”

“firstly just call me Ikarus please”

“ok Ikarus it is then”

“and you? Are you still little (ynn) or are you now the new diamond of the Paris opera scene.?”

“no i'm simply (y/n)”

”very well simply y/n, i must say your performance was a revelation. It’s amazing to see how far you've come since I last saw you.”

“fifteen years is a long time, a lot of things change.”

“yes…..i heard about your fathers passing, my condolences. He was a brilliant musician and I'm sure he would be incredibly proud of you.”

“thank you that's very kind of you, he would have felt honored to. Hear such high praise.

“Listen, I don't wish to keep you or your companion out in this cold night air much longer, so I will simply ask if you would be willing to have a meal with me, to catch up?”

After a quick contemplation you agreed not wanting to turn down the benefactor of the opera or a count. Terrific he replies before turning to his driver to discuss something quietly. You take this time to all sersi back over

“Did you both figure everything out?

“Yeah, he asked me to dinner.”

“oh y/n that's exciting. Oh he's coming back”

“Well I thank you for agreeing to dinner but I do have one more issue.”

oh?” You ask the duke questioningly.

“Yes it would be ungentlemanly of me to allow two young women to walk the damp streets of Paris at such an hour please let me top you off to your destination?”

You're about to decline given Gil and thena home is only fifteen minutes more away but once more sersi interrupts, accepting the offer for you both and allowing Ikarus to help her into his carriage before you get even a syllable out. The quick ride is filled with mostly Sersi and Ikarus talking (flirting) while you nodded along with whatever they were talking about just watching how they interacted, both sporting light blushes as they speak. However your destination arrives before you can make any sort of comment

“Here we are, sir.”

“Thank you mr smith.”

Ikarus quickly hopped out helping you and sersi out. You both turn dipping into quick curtsies, bidding the young count goodbye. He gives us both a nod and slight bow, his gaze lingering on sersi once more before hopping into his carriage and driving away.

“I can't believe that just happened, you truly do know the count y/n”

“I told you I did. Besides, I don't think its that impressive to know a count.”

“y/n you should be excited! He's young,handsome, kind and comes from a wealthy Noble family. He would make a perfect husband.”

“HUSBAND?…….. No sersi. I know that all sounds nice to you but to me he will always be the boy next door that was nice to me one moment then would tease me the next till he all but disappeared one day.”

“Oh sweety im/“

“/no it's fine, I understand what you're saying but Ikarus just isn't for me, in fact I think you should take your own advice.”

She whips around about to gripe at you with a blush on her face when the door bursts open, kingos extravagant self standing there, before he pulls you both into the warm house. Music's playing lightly as the boisterous noises from the living room pull you all in. And there everyone is cheers ringing in the air as everyone is ready to finally celebrate your musical debut.

The sun was just beginning to peak over the horizon, everyone had turned in, some (cough kingo and sprite cough) where. Forced to turn in after a night of one to many. You however couldn't find sleep for the life of you. Still too high on the adrenaline of the day to find peace so you decide to go for a walk. The early morning shops were setting up and beginning their days.Couriers race beside you. A few people wished you good morning before they went about their days. All in all it was a peaceful morning walk that ended in the same place it always did. The place you always go when you're alone or pent up or sad, happy, really any emotion. This was your safe place, the small cathedral attached to the Opera house.

Like always a few lone candles flicker in the room's damp breeze. Just as you go to light an additional candle for your father a musical trilling sounds in the room startling you. Looking around you see where the music came from. Under the cathedral's small stained glass window set a beautiful music box. It was a silver box, not large but not too small. It’s had (your favorite flower )designed on it rounding all the sides and laying carefully carved on the top, with tiny gems that sparkled like stars scattered around

(I cant pick one they’re all to pretty)

Where did you come from?” just as your about to touch the bow that familiar glowing aura brushes over you

“hello my little muse.”

There's that voice. That voice that teaches you with a stern hardness. Tha voice that caresses you at night covering your body in goosebumps and making your heart race. The voice you dream about that has you held captive. He was your teacher, your savior, your angel, your phantom.

“Good morning master.” you go to move to turn around hopeful to finally see the being that has overtaken every fiber of your body

‘Wait!” you pause, the air feeling charged as you obey his command

“Let me take you in first , my muse.”

The basic evening wear you wore yesterday didn't bother you when you put it on but now you wished you wore anything else, but nevertheless you felt his gaze roam your body like the finest piece of art. Out of your peripheral you can just make out the bottoms of his pressed black slack, the elegant polished boots and the swishing of the evening cape he had on the red lining accentuating his legs.

You attempt to see more but he steps directly behind you. His body is warm in the cold room, as you feel his fingertips glide up your back. Before his hands up your shoulders.

“my beautiful beautiful muse, how you shined like the brightest star in the universe. The goddess Aphrodite herself would be envious.”

“thank you master”

“oh how i relish those words do say it again”

“master?”

“emmmmmmm yes I do like the sound of that. Do you like your present my muse” he asks gesturing to the music box

“its beautiful”

“The song inside is of my own composition, please open it and tell me what you think.”

you reluctantly move away from his warmth to step back towards the music box, still not daring to look back over your shoulder. Tracing your finger over the flower on the top, taking a much needed breath and open the box

a hauntingly beautiful melody leaks out.

“Does it please you?”

“Its breathtaking”

“I'm pleased that something so small could elicit such feelings. I wonder how you would react to me then” a million thoughts rush through your head, he's finally going to let me see him.

“Would you like to see me, my little muse?” He laughs “I can hear the thoughts rushing through your head.’

yes master falls from your lips

his body steps up to you again. No room between the roof you as his breath fans your ear and hands take place on your hips. You feel like the earth would fall out from under you if it weren’t for his presence keeping you grounded.

“Are you sure my muse.”

“yes master”

“hmmmmmmmmmmmm”

you feel his. Lips kiss your shoulder and something cold above his nose brushing against you before he pulls back and the words you’ve waited so long to hear are finally spoken.

“Very well……… Look at me.”

Tags

@cdragons @ethereal-athalia

#druig x female reader #druig x y/n #druig fanfiction #druig smut #druig x reader #eternals fanfiction #eternals x reader #sersi eternals #phantom of the opera

36 notes · View notes

makeitmakesomesense · 1 year ago

Text

War and Peace

Eternal!Reader x Yelena Belova, Eternals Family Fic

@flufftober Day 2 Family, Friends and Loved Ones

Word Count 6.5K.

Your mother is the Goddess of War.

You were adopted by her when you were too young to remember.

Your mother, Thena has a sickness. It is called Mahd Wy’ry and there is no cure. Sometimes, she forgets herself. She becomes violent and she hurts people.

Her family worried when she brought you to them as a small child. Holding you tight to her chest, Thena called herself your mother.

She told you later that she would have fought the world to keep you.

Still, with her sickness, the potential danger couldn’t be ignored.

It was Ajak who made the final decision. She often did. She said that Thena could not hurt you. That even the thoughts of sickness could not make her harm her child.

The rest of your family were doubtful. But, in the end Ajak was right.

Your mother told you that the Mahd Wy’ry felt like church bells ringing in her mind. That sometimes they grew too loud to ignore.

‘But l always hear your voice.’ She told you when you were small, sitting in her lap and playing with her long hair. You loved listening to her speak, believing absolutely in the quiet authority of her words.

Your mother lived with her partner, Gilgamesh. They had been together for thousands of years. Ajak told you once that their souls had begun to bleed together.

When you were young, you didn’t understand that you were human. There weren’t many people to compare yourself to. You’d only known the eternal beings around you.

Your mother and Gilgamesh lived in the middle of nowhere. Before you had come, they had lived even more remotely in the Australian outback.

For as long as you could remember, you’d lived in Canada. When Thena took you in, Ajak’s only request had been that you would all move closer to her ranch in the US. Canada was the obvious choice. Thena’s sickness made the low population and empty landscape preferable.

You’d only met a few members of your extended family. Sersi and Ajak had been visiting ever since you were very small.

You loved spending time with Sersi. She was unwaveringly calm.

You knew your mother loved you more than anything. You felt it in the way she looked at you, in the way she held you tight when you were scared. But there was still a feeling, an uncertainty that her sickness brought with it. Sometimes, you would watch wide eyed as Gilgamesh had to remove her, silently but forcefully from the room.

Sersi was steadier. When you were little, she would sit quietly in the corner with you as the adults talked. She’d pick up small objects and change them for your entertainment. You never grew tired of watching glass turn to water, or stone to dust.

Ajak felt older than the others. She always brought you gifts when you visited. More often than not, she brought books that told you the ancient history of the world. Your family was in most of the stories. You would turn the pages, fascinated.

Ajak talked to you about everyone else in the family. Thena rarely mentioned the others and you could tell that she usually didn’t care about Ajak’s stories. Selfishly, you loved that Thena cared for very few and for you especially.

Ajak told you about the ones that had not yet met you, and about the ones that did not want to. Your family talked about Sprite sometimes. You’d met her once when you were very little. Now, she refused to see you. Ajak told you that being able to grow up was a special gift and that Sprite wished to be like you. That it’s hard to be around what you can’t have.

You didn’t understand what she’d said. You didn’t understand what growing up meant, that your life could not stay the same forever. It already felt so complete.

In your youngest years. When you had everything to learn and when learning always felt like play. You could remember only Thena. Even in your haziest memories, there was always the image of her white dress.

You remembered her tight arms and her soft songs. The sound of her heart as she carried you on long walks. The steady footfall of Gilgamesh beside you.

It was hard to understand that Thena could be anything other than your mother. Like the safe warmth of a cocoon, her love wrapped around you.

Gilgamesh was the perfect addition to your childhood memories. He made your house, a cabin in the heart of the forest, feel like a home. As you grew older, he showed you how to cook, build and fish. He gave you confidence with your hands.

He argued sometimes with Thena. Ever since you were young, she had refused to teach you how to fight. Gilgamesh wanted you to be able to defend yourself.

Thena’s very purpose was violence. It made up her character like love and a soul. You would watch her as she practiced with weapons that she conjured from the air. She never hesitated, even when she sparred with Gilgamesh in his worst moods. She fought like she was predestined for victory.

You did not have the same violence inside you as Thena. And though you knew she would never hurt you. The violence inside her scared you deeply.

You’d seen the same fear in her eyes too. Once when you were small, you’d tried to get close to Gilgamesh and Thena as they practiced fighting. You’d been curious about the quick, beautiful movements. Thena’s blade had been inches from your throat before she’d realized.

As you grew older, Thena’s sickness became a larger part of your life.

Gilgamesh had always tried to shield you from it. But a few incidents inevitably slipped through the cracks.

Once, Gilgamesh had left you both at the dinner table. He’d left to check the pie he was baking for later. You watched Thena’s eyes roll white, your own eyes widening at the sight. Her hand had spasmed with a dinner knife in it. You jumped in fear when it clattered against her plate. Thena told you that everyone was going to die. She gasped like she was underwater.

You’d never felt scared like that before. You didn’t recognise your mother. You watched her get to her feet, a new golden dagger sliding against her palm. You watched it slice easily through the thick wooden table that Gilgamesh had built by hand.

Thena turned her unseeing stare on you. Fear paralyzed you.

Gilgamesh dropped his pie as he walked through the door.

Thena apologized later. She didn’t need to, because you didn’t blame her. The haunting regret in her face told you everything. You didn’t hear her crying that night. But you saw the red evidence of tears in the morning.

You never blamed your mother. You just hated that she could be lost so easily.

The next time it happened, Gilgamesh had fallen asleep in the middle of the afternoon. He was slumped in a comfortable chair across from you. You were watching Thena as she sketched in a notebook. Your gaze flickered between them, waiting with gleeful anticipation for Thena to realize. Gilgamesh was always accidentally falling asleep and it annoyed her every time.

When Thena dropped her notebook, you thought for a moment that she was about to reach over and nudge him awake. Then, she turned to stare down at the ground. Despite the sharp bend in her neck, she held herself rigidly still.

You heard her start to murmur incoherently and your heart sank unpleasantly into your stomach.

You started speaking to Thena in a low voice, watching nervously as a sharp weapon appeared in her hand. Her arm twitched erratically. Then, her head tilted towards you and with some relief you realized that she could hear you.

You kept talking, keeping your voice low to hide its persistent tremor. Slowly, the weapon faded from her hand.

‘I love you.’ You reminded her at last, reaching out to touch her hand. The touch seemed to bring Thena back to herself.

Her eyes stayed white, but a slow tear rolled down her cheek.

You moved forward, instinctive as you tried to take away her sadness.

‘Careful.’ Gilgamesh told you quietly.

It was not often that you ignored him, but you did then. You hugged Thena unsurely, your heart thumping with uncontrolled fear.

Thena held you tightly. Instinctively, she began rocking you gently. She began to hum some ancient lullaby from when you’d been smallest.

You knew that everything had changed that day.

The next time it happened, you were the one who talked Thena down. And the time after.

You watched a stress begin to fade from Gilgamesh. He seemed happier, more relaxed as he lived each day with one less worry.

Very occasionally, he left the two of you together. He would disappear for an hour or two at a time; to fish, or walk, or even to drink with strangers.

As you grew into your teenage years. You started to wish for more than the small, insular world that you’d been presented with so far. You couldn’t help wondering about the nearest town, just a thirty minute drive away.

You’d heard about other humans. About the wars they caused and the slow pace of their progress. Still you longed for a friend, someone like you.

Your future had changed too. You could see now that Thena would never be lost to her sickness again, not if you were there to help. Even as time forced you to grow up, you accepted that you would never leave this life. Your family would always be your home.

You’d heard about romantic love and about friendship, you’d seen pictures in books of the beauty that the outside world held. It didn’t seem as real as the small world you knew.

Gilgamesh knew your decision without you having to talk about it.

One day, when you were fishing together by the lake, he sighed and put his hand on your shoulder.

“When you love something, you protect it. It is the most natural thing in the world.”

You nodded at his words, if anyone could understand, it was him.

For your 16th birthday, there was somewhat of a family reunion. Sersi and Ajak had come to visit. So had Kingo, who you were meeting for the first time.

On the day of your 16th birthday, half the universe disappeared.

‘Probably just a coincidence!’ Kingo had scribbled in his last minute birthday card.

Your family had sensed the change like it was something in the air. You had been completely oblivious. One moment, you’d been sitting at a nearly full dining table. The next moment, Thena’s hands gripped your shoulders as she told you firmly to stay still. The warning in her eyes made you instantly obedient.

You watched your family leave and suddenly felt empty with inadequacy. You’d always admired the way your family’s own history was woven along with the world’s. You were proud to be your mother’s daughter. But, for the first time, you realized how little you had to offer to your family or to anyone.

You spent the rest of the day alone, trying not to be bitter about a global catastrophe and bad timing. You tried not to dwell on your new dark thoughts.

Your family returned in dregs throughout the evening. There was something tortured about the look in each of their eyes.

You touched Ajak’s arm worriedly when she returned. ‘We’ve seen a lot of human grief. It never gets easier.’ She said softly. You could feel the palpable heaviness from the room.

Whatever human suffering they’d witnessed had sent Thena over the edge.

Unlike the others, your mother didn’t come back into the house. Instead, you watched her from the window as she tread the same path through the forest, weaving in and out of trees with steady focus.

She ignored Gilgamesh as he talked to her from the porch. Her eyes were determined, but you caught the darker emotions wrestling across her face.

Thena circled the cabin all night, guarding all of you from nothing. You lay in bed that night, listening to her soft footsteps outside.

Every few hours, you heard the low pleading voices of different members of your family, trying to convince her to come back inside. Thena refused them all.

You’d heard that evening about the billions of humans that had suddenly turned to ash.

Your mind lingered on the thought. It could so easily have been you. You thought of your mother and what grief would one day do to her.

The next morning, everyone watched you as you made yourself breakfast, clearly worried that your mother’s strange behavior was upsetting you. Sersi stood with you, asking careful questions about how you’d slept.

You just shrugged, took out a second plate and began to fill it with breakfast for Thena.

‘It’s not her fault. She wants to fight anything that could hurt her.’ You said simply, glancing at Gilgamesh for confirmation. He nodded with an expression that seemed like a tired type of acceptance.

You interrupted Thena’s steady patrol with your offering of food. The serious look faded from her expression when she saw you standing on the cabin porch. Her mouth twitched into an automatic smile.

‘It’s been a long time since someone gave me an offering.’ She said wryly, slowing as she approached you. You sat with her on the wooden steps and began to eat. She didn’t speak and neither did you. Her arm wrapped tightly around your shoulders and you knew she was reminding herself that you were still there.

The others stayed for nearly a week. They discussed the snap endlessly, offering different theories about what humanity would do next. Thena barely paid attention. Instead, she stayed close to you, eyes flickering with constant readiness around the room.

Approximately 5 years later and half the universe returned. Thankfully, it did not ruin your birthday twice.

There is not much to say about the days before the quakes began. Your life had been outlined for a long time. Every day felt like another piece of an inevitable plan falling into place. Time blurred easily.

You knew Gilgamesh was pushing for you to have a more normal human life, but Thena would not be convinced. Your mother was unashamedly selfish in her refusal.

You heard her voice raise once as you returned from the forest.

‘She stays with us.’ Thena’s sharp tones caught your ears. ‘Her life will be over so fast.’

‘Exactly.’ Gilgamesh had thrown back with unexpected force.

You dismissed their argument as irrelevant. You knew you wouldn’t be leaving.

Gilgamesh’s only victory was teaching you how to drive.

After the driving lessons, when you returned back to the cabin, Thena would always be standing on the porch. The golden light of home would burn behind her. Her hands would grip the wooden railing as she waited for you.

‘I can’t protect you when you aren’t here.’ She told you, kissing your hair as you walked inside.

The Deviant came shortly after the first quakes rattled the Earth. The monster that had haunted your childhood nightmares found Gilgamesh alone in the forest. You were in the kitchen with your mother. Thena’s head had turned instantly at the far off sound. She was out the door before you could speak.

Later, they returned together. Immediately, you could tell that Thena was not all there. Gilgamesh kept his hand on her back, gentle but firm as he directed her back to the house.

Seeing you waiting for her on the porch, Thena’s gaze locked on you. She seemed fragile and you didn’t know what to say.

You kept your hand on her shoulder as you led her to the small garden behind the cabin. Summer was beginning and the flowers had started to bloom. You sat together. You let the sunshine and the rustling sounds of nature soothe the worried look in her far off stare.

When Gilgamesh came out to sit with you, he brought Thena her sketch pad. You watched with muted concern as she began to hurriedly chalk out strange, alien scenes. One after another, the drawings piled up.

‘I think the others will arrive soon.’ Gilamesh told you both. ‘Noone has seen a Deviant for centuries.’

Thena didn’t respond, hands still busy with her drawings. You brushed her shoulder worriedly as Gilgamesh headed back inside to make food.

Still without words, Thena grabbed your hand and held it tightly. You felt her apprehension thread inside you. Something terrible was coming.

Your mother made a dagger from the air and spun it with her fingers. You watched it twirl as fear seeped into you.

You only met Ikaris and Sprite very briefly. Together with Sersi, they had found Ajak dead on her ranch and now every plan had changed. There was no question that Gilgamesh and Thena would have to go with them.

There was no question that you would have to stay. Before they left, Sersi gave you a smartphone. You’d used her own phone briefly before, but still the technology was new to you. You promised to answer when they called.

Your mother did not say goodbye to you. Instead, she held your face gently between her hands. She looked at you with an expression full of worry. She pressed her forehead against yours and whispered ‘Be safe.’ It was the first time she’d spoken since the Deviant.

You watched your family leave and realized, as the loss of Ajak hit you with force, that immortality didn’t make them safe either.

Despite your quiet upbringing in the middle of nowhere, you had never known silence like this before. Two days passed and nobody called you. There was too much silence at the cabin.

You decided to drive into town, keen to be anywhere else. You knew also that if you could find the right signal, you could find news updates on your smartphone.

As you pulled into the usually quiet town, you noticed immediately the black cars lining the usually deserted streets. There were small groups of people caught in serious looking discussions. You drove past most of them, and finally pulled into one of the only free spaces left.

A blonde girl in a gray coat watched you park, she was leaning against a wall. You got out of your car and the blonde girl began to walk lazily over to you.

Before she even spoke, your heart started pounding in your chest. Her eyes slid down your white dress, a hand-me-down from your mother.

‘Are you looking for the monster?’ She asked casually.

You felt shy and scared at the same time.

‘No. What monster?’ You asked, looking automatically over your shoulder.

The girl’s eyes danced with amusement.

She gestured over her shoulder at the expanse of forest you’d just driven through.

‘Apparently, some hikers saw this giant alien creature.’ Her eyes widened dramatically. ‘Now the authorities have shown up.’

‘Oh, I’m sure it’s nothing.’ You said hurriedly, feeling overwhelmed. ‘Maybe it was a bear.’

The girl smiled patiently, as if your lie was obvious and she didn’t need to tell you. ‘I’m Yelena.’ She said after a moment.

‘I’m Y/N.’ You introduced yourself. Suddenly, you remembered the imaginary games you’d played as a child. Elaborate daydreams where you’d find yourself with a friend.

‘So, Y/N, why are you in town?’ Yelena asked.

‘Oh.’ You held out your brand new smartphone, brightening with a question that felt safe to answer. ‘I want to link this to the internet.’ You gestured vaguely to the sky. ‘But there’s no signal where I live.’

‘You live there?’ Yelena nodded back to the forest where the Deviant had been found.

You didn’t answer, scared to speak as you realized that this girl was much smarter than you. Yelena only nodded at your silence.

‘I can help with that.’ She gestured to your phone. ‘Help get it… linked up.’

‘Oh. Thank you, that’s so kind.’ You said gratefully.

Yelena suggested getting a drink at the local bar while she looked at your phone. You followed her inside, looking interestedly at the interior of a room that was not in your home.

The bartender looked you both up and down disinterestedly before returning his attention to the television set up at the side of the bar. There were two men, well dressed and serious looking, also watching the small screen.

‘Can I get you a drink?’ Yelena offered.

You racked your mind trying to think of what Gilgamesh often drank. ‘Can I get some mead?’ You asked.

Yelena’s eyebrows raised dangerously and you knew you’d said something wrong.

‘I don’t think they sell that.’ She told you, almost teasingly. ‘But I can ask.’

‘Right.’ You mumbled, embarrassment burning your cheeks.

She returned with two beers. You tried not to pull a face of disgust as you sipped yours. Mead was definitely sweeter than this.

Yelena’s hand slid across the table. A new feeling shot through your spine as you watched. She lifted your phone and began to look at the settings.

‘You were on airplane mode.’ She explained after a few seconds, handing you back the phone.

Your fingers brushed hers as you took the phone back. For a second, you forgot to breathe.

‘Right.’ You said again.

‘Easy mistake.’ She grinned, taking another sip of her beer.

‘Are you here to find the monster?’ You asked, trying suddenly to deflect the attention away from you.

Yelena shrugged. ‘It’s why I came. But now it’s much more interesting.’

‘Oh?’ You squeaked nervously.

‘The police found the monster pretty fast.’ She told you. ‘Cut up into lots of pieces.’

You kept your face very still.

‘Bit strange.’ Yelena commented as she continued to drink her beer. ‘Who goes into the forest with a blade. And who has the strength to use it like that.’

You remembered a name you’d heard over the dinner table.

‘Maybe it was the Avengers.’ You offered casually.

Yelena met your gaze then. Her stare was full of sudden unspoken sadness.

‘Maybe.’ She said at last.

You didn’t know how to tell her that you recognised her grief. You touched her hand unsurely.

Yelena’s eyes flashed and she withdrew her hand. You tried to ignore the sting of rejection, certain you hadn’t imagined the look in her eyes. You glanced down as your phone screen lit up.

Many missed calls and a single voicemail. You pushed your chair back, ignoring the screeching sound.

‘I have to -’ You muttered unthinkingly, as you called back the number and hurried to the door.

Sersi answered. Her calm voice soothed you immediately.

‘It’s over now. You’re safe.’ She said simply. You took a deep breath. ‘Is everyone okay?’ You asked.

Sersi hesitated. The pause lasted several seconds. Your stomach swooped with horrible anticipation.

‘Gilgamesh.’ You said hollowly as pieces clicked together. If it had been your mother, Gilgamesh would have found you already. Sersi said something else, but you didn’t hear. Numbly, you ended the call. You gripped the wall next to you and tried to breathe.

You made it to your car and started to cry. Half-blind from tears, you started to drive. Gilgamesh had been your father in everything but name. He had made your world safe. You’d never told him.

Regret clung like a bad taste in your mouth.

You drove back to the cabin, some part of you believing that Gilgamesh, or even your mother might be waiting for you. You found the cabin standing empty and knew that you were alone.

You stayed in your car until you were ready to check your phone again. One new message from Sersi.

‘Give her time. She loves you.’

You realized that you must have missed Sersi telling you that your mother wasn’t coming home. You stared at the cabin as dusk settled in. Without the usual bright lights inside, it seemed stark and unwelcoming.

You stiffened as a low rumbling sound began to build behind you. When you recognised the blonde girl driving the truck, you got out of your car to face her.

Yelena stepped out of her vehicle and didn’t hesitate.

‘Are you part of a cult?’ She demanded, scanning the forest clearing carefully. She moved next to you, guarded in her stance.

‘No.’ You muttered, wiping tears from your face.

Yelena looked at you like she didn’t believe you.

‘You try to order a drink from the 1300s. You don’t know how to use a phone. You’re wearing that dress. You get a mysterious call that makes you cry and then you hurry back to this creepy cabin in the woods.’ Yelena’s strong accent emphasized every word.

‘It’s not a cult.’ You muttered, using your sleeves to wipe more relentless tears. ‘My mother’s partner. He - .’ You choked on the words.

Yelena’s face softened immediately.

‘I’m so sorry. I am such an idiot.’ She told you. You felt her arms open and accepted the offered hug. You knew she was still a stranger but at that moment you only wanted to feel better.

‘Is your mother here?’ Yelena asked you. She sounded steady, as if she knew what needed to happen next. It reassured you. You shook your head. ‘No, she uh. I think that she’s taking some space.’

Yelena’s lips pressed together.

‘Is there someone else you can call?’ She asked at last. You shook your head, beginning to feel the heavy weight of grief. ‘I don’t know anybody except my family.’

Yelena looked worried then.

‘I think we should get out of here.’ She said at last, hand touching your shoulder.

Together, you walked into the cabin. Yelena waited in the living room as you disappeared to fill a bag with clothes. When you came back, you caught her looking interestedly at your mother’s chalk drawings. You didn’t care. The place felt so empty that you could barely stand it. Yelena led you to her truck and began to drive back along the road to the town.

You let her drive. You didn’t know where you were going, but you didn’t want to be alone anymore.

As you drove, Yelena kept asking you questions. About your family, your childhood, about your knowledge of the outside world. She flinched apologetically when her questions made you speak about Gilgamesh, but she didn’t stop asking.

You tried to answer as best you could. You couldn’t help trusting Yelena, but she was also the first human you’d ever met. You kept the details hazy, as you described an idyllic childhood lived in nature.

The truck approached a large sprawling mass of buildings. You looked curiously at the place that dwarfed anything you’d seen before.

‘Is this a city?’ You asked Yelena and she snorted loudly. ‘Sure, if 2,000 people can make a city.’

Your eyes widened, it was more people than you could imagine. Yelena parked in a hotel parking lot.

‘This is where I’ve been staying.’ She said. ‘Come on, I’ll get you a room too.’

A wave of inadequacy settled over you as Yelena walked you into the hotel. She spoke with the woman behind a desk, who gave you a sympathetic look. You brushed the tear tracks on your cheeks embarrassedly.

The woman booked you into the room next to Yelena’s. You walked up together.

‘Want to hang out for a bit?’ Yelena offered, as you stood together in the hotel corridor. ‘We could order food.?

You nodded, realizing suddenly just how hungry you were. Yelena had a practiced ease about her as she led you into her space.

You eyed the contents of her room curiously. Without your mother and the compelling gravity of your family home, the world felt brand new.

The small room was messy, a variety of debris emanating from an open suitcase that had been flung onto the small armchair in the corner of the room.

Yelena shrugged her gray coat from her shoulders and threw it over the suitcase. The gesture seemed casual, but you couldn't help wondering if it was intentional. You forced yourself to stay calm, it was natural that a person would be self conscious with someone new in their space.

Yelena picked up the hotel phone and started to dial for room service. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up but you couldn’t figure out why. Your gaze finally landed on the stack of books piled on the vanity across from you.

Fear trickled down your spine like ice water. A paperback of ‘The Epic of Gilgamesh’ lay on top of a copy of ‘Athena: The Story of a Goddess.’

You looked at Yelena, who stood frozen, watching you with the hotel phone still in her hand. You heard something like your mother’s voice shouting in your head. You bolted for the door.

You couldn’t run far and there wasn’t anywhere you could think to hide. You typed a desperate message to Sersi as you hurried down the hotel’s emergency exit stairs. You didn’t know if you’d sent it right. The message was a different color to the one she’d sent you earlier. Despair flared in your chest.

You reached the bottom of the stairs and the door swung open casually. Yelena stood in the doorway. Her eyes swam with guilt but you could tell from the tight line of her jaw that she was determined.

Any fleeting hope of finally having your first friend dissipated.

‘They shouldn’t have kept you like that.’ Yelena told you with forced calm. Her voice seemed to simmer with anger and sadness. ‘None of it was real.’

For the first time, you met someone else’s anger with your own.

‘Of course it was real.’ You snapped. You could guess Yelena’s intentions now.

Gilgamesh had always been there to protect your mother from herself. But he had also been there to ward off others who might see her potential as a weapon of destruction.

Now that job appeared to have fallen to you.

‘How did you find us?’ You asked. Your voice was quiet and you could feel yourself trembling. You had never felt anger like this before. You’d never met someone who wanted to hurt your family.

You suddenly knew as you clenched your fists that you were not weak. You had been raised by gods.

Yelena took a step forward.

‘Stay back.’ You told her furiously. She paused and her hands slipped loosely into her pockets. You waited for her to deliver a weapon from them but Yelena stayed still.

‘I didn’t know that they were keeping you there.’ Yelena told you abruptly. She was trying to hold your gaze and you weren’t sure if you should let her have it. If this is part of another trick that you wouldn’t see coming. ‘I was given a mission to find your mother. Someone is looking to pay her generously for her powers.’

‘I didn’t know about you.’ Yelena promised as she continued. ‘I’m not going to betray you, or your family.’ She hesitated. ‘I know what it’s like to lose people.’

In a flash, you remembered seeing her brief moment of grief earlier at the bar. You felt sudden indecision burn inside you. You took a deep breath and decided you wanted to trust her. You didn’t know if you were being reckless, you wished that you’d had some experience of the real world before today. Your family and your home felt far away.

‘Okay.’ You said at last. You walked forward and watched Yelena’s eyes widen as you reached out to take her hand. You didn’t know if this was what friends did, but you knew you wanted to. After a second, Yelena squeezed your hand back and you smiled. You were right, it was that simple.

Later that evening, you sat together on Yelena's bed, a pizza box in the space between you. You watched her silently, despite everything still in awe of the first real person you’d ever met. You already knew they weren't all this special.

‘But of course, you’re not actually an alien.’ Yelena ended her explanation of she'd found herself at your house, as she chewed the final slice of her pizza.

“Sometimes it feels like it.’ You admitted quietly. There was a long pause as Yelena watched you. You didn't look up, a strange shame seeping over you.

‘I was raised to be a soldier.’ Yelena told you at last in a tight voice. Her expression was brittle and when you looked up, you saw that her eyes were far off. ‘They brainwashed me into something that wasn’t even human.’

Something in her lost expression reminded you of your mother. You hummed cautiously, letting Yelena’s attention snap back to the room. You put a careful hand on her shoulder. Yelena blinked uncertainly and she looked younger. After a moment, she leaned her cheek against your hand.

The whole world was full of broken people. You’d never realized before. Yelena started to speak again.

You moved your hand without thinking, twisting it to brush the side of Yelena’s face gently. Yelena watched you, her expression was open.

‘You were a child?’ You asked, desperate to understand every piece of her and not knowing why.

Yelena nodded carefully, eyes never leaving you. ‘It took me years to get out. I found my sister again.’ She paused. If you hadn’t been holding her gaze, you wondered if she’d have continued with the truth.

‘She died.’ Yelena whispered into the quiet room. Wordlessly, you brushed a tear from her cheek with your thumb.

‘I’ve never said that aloud before.’ Yelena muttered, breaking eye contact and pulling her face away from you as she straightened up.

You looked at the intricate braid holding her hair back from her face. Memories of loving moments with your mother, Sersi and even Ajak flashed through your mind.

‘Did she teach you how to braid your hair like that?’ You wondered, letting your arm drop to your side. Yelena touched a piece of her hair reflexively and you noticed her breathing stutter.

‘Yeah.’ She said at last.

Out of nowhere, the hotel building began to shake, as if even the foundations had been startled. Your chest tightened as you remembered the text you’d attempted to send earlier. You slipped your phone out and saw bright bubbles of text appear one after another. ‘New message.’ and ‘Missed call’ repeated themselves like some secret code.

Yelena read the words over your shoulder, just as the building shook again.

‘Oh, fuck.’ She muttered, getting to her feet and slipping two knives from her pockets. Her eyes flickered to you apprehensively. In a rush, you felt the familiar uselessness of your childhood spent in the corner only allowed to watch your family fight. You knew she wanted you to stay out of danger.

The door came abruptly off its hinges and your family arrived in the room. You braced yourself as Thena walked in. Sersi stood behind her, her hands up and ready to use her powers.

Yelena’s gaze didn’t leave Thena, who was blazing in her fury. Yelena gritted her teeth and met her stare head on, she'd obviously realized that words would be useless. You watched her fists clench and then relax purposefully around her two knives.

Thena smirked as she saw the weapons in Yelena’s grip. You watched her create her own two daggers out of thin air. She took a step forward, her eyes trained entirely on Yelena. You knew she would kill her before Yelena could even raise a hand.

You blocked Yelena with your body. It was all you could do.

Thena’s knife caught your shoulder. The sting was sharp but Thena had stopped herself before any damage could be done.

She stuttered to a halt as if the mistake had burned her. She looked at you, furious and confused in the one breath. Panic was spreading behind her eyes.

Yelena stared at you too, as if she'd never seen you before.

‘I didn’t mean to worry you.’ You murmured to your mother, trying to calm the spiralling tension in the room. ‘It was my mistake. Yelena was being kind. She just didn’t want me to be alone.’

Thena gave Yelena a murderous stare. Sersi stepped forward, carefully interrupting the moment. Her hand touched your shoulder and you held back a wince as she inspected the area the knife had touched.

Yelena took her moment to speak.

‘It was a misunderstanding.’ She told Thena steadily. ‘I am sorry.’

Yelena glanced back at you, for a moment unsure. Then, she swallowed her nerves and spoke again.

'She's my friend.'

Your mother’s stare returned to you. Pain echoed back at you. Gilgamesh’s loss loomed suddenly. You let yourself fold into your mother’s arms. She hugged you tentatively and then with a kind of desperation that she’d never shown before. Tears pricked your eyes as you felt her grief wash over you like an eternal wave.

When she pulled back at last, Thena took your hands in hers and squeezed them. For a moment, you believed you were a child again, safe just because she was there.

‘He was right.’ Thena said quietly, after a moment. ‘I have to let you go.’

She kissed your forehead and her words sank in. You looked to Sersi and her mouth was tight like she had known this was coming all along.

At your look, Sersi spoke up. She told you about their spaceship and the idea to fly across the universe, warning others of the impending emergences on their planets.

It made sense then. If Thena walked the Earth then you knew she would always stay by your side. She knew that you would do the same. That’s why she was going to leave.

Your heart began to break into pieces. You wondered if it would have a soft landing.

You turned to Yelena, who’s face had stayed impassive for the last few moments. Her expression cracked suddenly.

‘My sister went to space once. She saved half the universe.’

She didn’t have to tell you that her sister hadn’t come home. You nodded, sure now that Yelena was someone you understood.

Thena and Sersi left that day, Eternal beings seemed to be ones that didn’t hesitate once their minds were made up.

A week later, you were sitting again in another hotel room. Yelena had driven you to Ohio, the one place she’d ever called home. It was a far cry from your own cabin in the woods.

You sat on a different hotel bed that wasn’t your own, surprised that the weight of change hadn’t crushed you yet. You stared at a beige wall, trying to let go of the future you’d once resigned yourself to. A future that you wouldn’t have minded, until the moment you’d met Yelena.

You felt her sitting next to you, a distant comfort coming just from her presence. She was being incredibly patient with you. The night before, she’d spent hours teaching you how to braid your hair.

She was more than just the friend you'd dreamed about. Desperately you wanted her to feel the same about you.

You were beginning to believe this was real to her too.

Hesitatingly, Yelena bumped her shoulder lightly against yours.

You looked to your left and saw her nervous smile waiting for you. Your heart thumped harder at the sight of it.

Yelena moved forward and her lips brushed yours. It was hesitant, soft and careful.

When she pulled back, her cheeks were flushed. Her eyes met yours briefly. You could tell she was waiting for your reaction.

You reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze.

You'd known since that first day, when you'd brushed her tears with your thumb. When you'd stepped between her and the knife.

“When you love something, you protect it. It is the most natural thing in the world.”

#yelena belova x reader #eternals fic #yelena belova fluff #flufftober2023 #day 2

66 notes · View notes

softquietsteadylove · 4 months ago

Note

Another drama for the runaway bride? Maybe Eros really comes over and tries to get Thena back? And it comes to the point where Gil has to intervene 😃

Gil cracked the reins on the horse again, forcing the poor creature onward. But he knew where he needed to go, and he needed to get there before Eros did. "Come on!"

The horse voiced its concern but sped through the trees and towards the higher roads. He was heading in almost the opposite direction really. But the road for horses spiralled down the mountain. He needed to get to the steepest part, where he could cut him off.

He had Thena.

Gil had been out on his usual day. He was meeting his quotas. He had actually been staying out a little longer than necessary. Everyday, after he had fulfilled the work he needed to do for payment, he would find some good trees and work on getting boards and beams from them.

He wanted to expand the cabin. He wanted it to feel like a home for Thena as much as him. And while she was quite at home, he wanted to make more of a house than his open bodied bachelor hut. He would add onto the cabin's end and make a real, proper bedchamber for them. Maybe he could even add a bath room, if the winter was late this year.

He was just heading home when he heard it--the sound of hooves. He had taken off in a sprint towards home. He didn't hear the loud rattling of a carriage on the road, and there wasn't a whole infantry this time either. But the running of a horse was unmistakable.

When he did get home, he had found the door open, Thena's berry basket on the porch and its contents spilled everywhere, as if she had been dragged away by the ankles. The tracks of the horse were fresh. He knew what he had to do. Her captor being on horse was a good thing. No one could navigate the woods well enough to run a creature through it. He had moved around the side of the house. The guard sent with the prince - and to apprehend Gil, no doubt - was waiting in the garden for him.

Gil didn't like violence. He was a peaceful man. But he picked up the shovel and struck the man with such force that the metal against his helmet sounded like canon fire. The man went down and Gil had taken his horse without a second thought.

He was no rider, but he knew what he had to do.

Now, he was barrelling towards a cliffside, waiting for their paths to align. He had to time it right. And he couldn't risk Thena getting seriously hurt in the process. His timing had to be perfect.

As he began to see the road laid out below, curving along with the shape of the mountain, he heard it. He craned his head backwards. A horse was speeding down the road, right in the middle of it. The prince was riding with one hand on his reins and another over his shoulder.

Thena was slung over it, bound like a wild boar he had captured (disgraceful treatment of a lady).

Either he couldn't hear her over the two horses unknowingly racing each other, or she was gagged as well as bound. For a prince, he had truly treated Thena the way a barbarian would.

Gil pulled back on his reins, only slightly. He had to get this right. He patted the horse's neck, muttering his apologies to it. Poor thing didn't deserve what was about to happen. But it was for a good cause.

Eros rounded the bend swiftly, Thena in hand. Of course, with such a sharp curve, and at the speed he was travelling, he had to take it as widely as possible. Gil watched until he was at the thinnest part of the road, closest to the edge.

He cracked the reins.

The horse brayed, screaming as it leapt over the edge of the elevation and plummeted over the edge, legs flailing. Gil reached out, plowing into the prince from behind and wrapping his arms around Thena. It was chaos, everything hurt and his eyes were barely open. But he wrapped his arms around her and kept rolling.

The two horses lay in the road, crying out in distress and probably pain. Gil dragged him and Thena both off the edge and below the road. Somehow, they managed to slither into the trunk of a tree. It was a very familiar tree, with a base large and hollow enough for someone to use as shelter. It was tight with both of them.

"Thena?!"

Gil held her head against his shoulder as Eros wailed for her. He had thought the prince a spoiled and perhaps delicate creature. But listening to him bellow her name with rage in his bones, perhaps he was a man of drive after all.

"Thena!!!"

Gil worked on the rope around Thena's wrists. He would let Eros tire himself out up there. If he didn't fully know what happened, all the better. He could scream his head right off his shoulders. He pulled the cloth from within her mouth like a horse's bridle. He whispered, "Thena?"

She winced, but her sparkling green eyes opened. Her mouth opened but he pressed it against his chest again.

"I know you're there, lumberjack!"

Thena's newly unbound hands clutched at him. He held her tightly. They could keep running as long as they needed, as far as he was concerned. He would sooner burn down the cabin - his life's work - and start anew somewhere than hand Thena over to that cretin.

"Your highness!"

It was harder to hear as the new voice joined them. The two men spoke amongst themselves, the guard no doubt explaining how he had been assailed and woken up to his horse missing. Eros knew he had something to do with it, but there was no substantial evidence that he had. Right now, it just seemed that a horse had gotten spooked and run right over the edge in its panic.

"Another day, Thena dear!" Eros promised in a menacing tone (at least Gil found it very menacing). He was hovering close to the edge, looking into the woods below for evidence of his escaped prey.

"Your highness, what of the horse?"

There was a long pause, and then Eros was yelling again. "Put it down! And next time you see the lumberjack, do exactly the same!"

Thena clutched at him again but he rubbed her back. He was quite sure Eros didn't have that kind of mettle to him. Even if he did, that would have to be addressed at a later date. He held her still, waiting until there no sounds of distressed horses, or the clatter of armour and swords. He waited much longer than that.

Eventually he shifted. His legs were all pins and needles. Even if they had laid a trap for them, he doubted they were going to wait all night. He shifted Thena in his arms, pressing his finger to her lips. Even if they were waiting, they couldn't know she was with him.

Gil crawled out of the tree, looking around furtively as a fawn with every movement. He peeked up the hill, trying to determine if their hunters were lying in wait. He crawled on his belly, through the pine needles and twigs. He made it to the road's edge.

The horse was gone. Perhaps Eros was more bluster than substance after all. Gil had to admit he hoped the horse would not be put down for what he had demanded of it. He slid back down to their tree shelter.

Thena looked at him, tears in her eyes.

He just nodded, holding out his hand for her. It was a long walk if they took the roads. Her feet were bare, proving that they had broken into the cabin and snatched her away.

She crawled out to join him, collapsing into his chest. He rubbed her back, letting her sob into his shirt. What a fright for his runaway bride to have. And he had failed to protect her, yet again.

They made it back to the road, at least. He looked at Thena, who seemed completely in a daze. Her feet were covered in mud from the road, probably scratched and wounded all over again. He would prepare one of her favourite foot baths when they got home.

Would it still feel like home to her? After having been taken from its very steps?

Gil moved deftly, sweeping her up into his arms so she wouldn't have to walk a single more step. She didn't say anything as he looped her arm around the back of his neck. He didn't say anything either, although he looked at her as her fingers touched his cheek.

"Are you hurt?"

He smiled faintly. Her voice was steady, if a little raw. "No, I'm not hurt. Are you?"

She shook her head, looking at him like she had never seen him before he had fallen from the sky. "I tried to call for you, but he put that cloth in my mouth. I scratched him."

Gil examined the mix of blood an dirt under her delicate fingernails. He chuckled, pressing a kiss to her temple, "that's my girl."

She let out something resembling a laugh as well, resting her head more comfortably on his shoulder. "What will we do, Gil? Will they keep coming after us?"

"I don't know, sweetheart." It was a pitiful offering. But it was his most honest one.

"I don't want to leave our home."

"I know." He didn't particularly want to either. But perhaps that would be best for his runaway bride.

"I'm surprised claiming we were married had no effect. I thought surely if Eros thought you'd already had me that he would no longer have any interest."

Gil blushed. He would also assume something like that, honestly. But clearly Eros either didn't believe her or didn't care even if it was true. But surely if they were married, there was nothing he nor her father could do.

They had to find a way to wed.

8 notes · View notes

callsigndragon · 2 years ago

Text

The Christmas Date | Chapter 7: Winter Wonderland

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Fem!Kerner!Reader

(Ron Kerner is Slider, Iceman’s backseater)

Wordcount: 2.3k

Summary: Y/n “Athena” Kerner and Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw hate each other. Everybody knows. What happens when they have to fake date for a whole week to avoid Iceman and Slider’s matchmaking plans?

(there won’t be smut in this series)

Warnings: fluff, fluff, FLUFF, mentions of car accident, mentions of coma, mentions of wanting to give up (aka die), you're gonna hate me for this one.

A/N: DID I JUST CHANGE THE WHOLE PLOT WHILE WRITING THIS BECAUSE THENA AND ROOSTER WERE BEGGING ME TO MAKE THIS HAPPEN? yes. i don't regret anything.

Taglist:@ducks118 @milestellerwife @craftymoonchaos @littlebadariell @xoxabs88xox @alexxavicry @tayrae515 @shrimping-for-all @mak-32 @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @harper1666 @purplevortexx @abaker74 @ssprayberrythings @melllinaa @loveless-simp @k-k0129 @mygyn @castle-bookworms-world @chaoticversion @one-sweet-gubler @loveforaugust

@taytaylala12 @benhardysdrumstick @diggorycullen @green-intervention @waatermelon-sugaar @smells-like-perfect-senses @interstellarloneliness @tay-bluey @diggorycullen @dhwanishah09 @inky-sun @luckyladycreator2

(If you want to be added, write in the comments! Those in bold I couldn’t tag you)

Previous | Next | Masterlist

Rooster's side of the bed is empty when you wake up for the second time. "Nugget?" you ask, wondering if he's in the bathroom.

You wait for a few seconds, the only answer you receive is a silent room and some giggling from downstairs. What is Jesse up to?

You get out of bed, feeling more relaxed than you've ever felt in years. Looking around the room for something comfy to wear over your pajama t-shirt, you find one of Rooster’s hoodies in the chair next to the window. You look at it, weighing the pros and cons of wearing it.

Pros: It's big and comfy. It seems warm, too. You have to wear your boyfriend’s clothes around your family, right?

Cons: Rooster is going to tease the shit out of you. Everyone's gonna think you did… something last night.

It's not worth it.

You walk toward the door when you think of one last pro. You turn around so quickly that you almost trip on your own feet, going to grab the hoodie.

Going downstairs a few minutes later, you overhear Rooster talking with the rest.

"Just... don't mention last night at all, okay?"

"Rooster," your dad is not going to stop until he knows, "Did something happen between you two?"

"Slider, I can promise you this has nothing to do with me. I told you I would never hurt her, right?" He says with a tired voice, as if the conversation has been going on for a while.

You decide that it's your turn to save him now. "Then what- Morning, sweetheart!"

You walk towards the men, kissing your dad's cheek, and then hug Rooster, just like the lovely girlfriend you are. "You left"

"I know, sorry," he says as he kisses your forehead and looks to Jesse, who is waiting in front of the oven with Becca for the chocolate chip cookies to be done. "Jesse thought you were sad last night and wanted to make you cookies. We helped him"

You move away from him, raising an eyebrow. "You helped?"

He rolls his eyes, smiling. "I didn't measure any of the ingredients. And Becca moved the salt to the other side of the kitchen so we didn't have an accident"

"So you just looked" you tease him, enjoying his hurt expression.

"I had the very important task of preheating the oven, you know."

You chuckle. "That's just pressing some buttons. I bet Jesse did more than you"

"I was in charge of kneading the mass!" He chimes in, proud of his task.

"And I'm sure you did a very good job!" you say, going with him and hugging him tight while saying hi to Becca.

She looks at you, eyes showing concern. "Thena, did something happen last night?"

You shake your head. "Don't worry about it" You look at Rooster, who is talking with your father while drinking his coffee. He looks so relaxed whenever he's home. He laughs at something your dad says, making you smile a bit, too. "I wasn't alone"

As if he can sense you are talking about him, he looks in your direction, winking, before rejoining the conversation with your father and Iceman, who has just entered the kitchen.

"Please," Sarah says walking in, pointing at Rooster with her index finger "tell me those cookies have sugar and not salt"

Bradley groans. "It was ONE time, Sarah"

"We had to throw one hundred cookies away," she insists, making you laugh. Sarah, Iceman, your dad, and Mav, who has joined in too, grab some coffee mugs and move to the living room, to sit in front of the chimney.

Rooster looks at you, eyes narrowed. “Grouchy, you shouldn’t be laughing at me”

“Oh?” he grabs the bag of flour from the counter, walking slowly in your direction with a devilish smile. “Don’t you dare, nugget”

“I think you have something on your face, look,” he says, grabbing a handful of flour and throwing it.

Jesse giggles. “Mom, mom, take pictures of Aunt Thena”

You blink a few times, looking at the bag of flour. “Bradshaw, this isn’t funny,” you mutter, faking to be angry.

His smile drops instantly. “Shit, Thena,” he says, looking around, trying to find something to help you clean yourself. He grabs one of the kitchen towels from the drawer, and when he turns around, you throw flour at his face.

“Looking good, fly boy!” you laugh, patting his chest, flour falling to the floor.

"Run,” he whispers, getting ready to chase after you.

You drop the empty bag and dash from the kitchen as fast as you can. Rooster is right behind you, sprinting when you get to the living room. He grabs your waist, lifting you off the floor. “You’re mine,” he says while tickling you.

You feel your heart skipping a beat at his words. You laugh it off, escaping from his embrace, and turn around to look at him. The air seems to shift around you two. Something feels different. You two have been closer than this, but... why does it feel different? Why does it make your heart beat faster? Why are your cheeks burning? Rooster’s eyes have always been this beautiful? He leans a bit, his flour-covered mustache makes you smile. “See something you like, Bradshaw?”

“You” he whispers, leaning closer. Wait, is this really happening? You two have kissed before, but it was just a quick peck for Jesse. This is completely different. But why is he going to kiss you? Do you want him to kiss you?

Sarah’s gasp is so loud that you almost jump away from Rooster. “Why are you two halfwits running around the house covered in flour? You two go upstairs and shower before coming back here and cleaning everything”

You and Rooster look at each other, smiling like teenagers who have been caught doing something they shouldn’t have been doing. And it kind of feels like it because you were about to kiss.

Was he doing it because the others were there? Yeah, that has to be it.

But when he winks at you before going upstairs to shower, you’re not so sure of anything anymore.

Today is the town's Christmas light switch-on. In big cities, by this time of the year, the lights have been on for at least a month already. But this is a small town, and they can’t afford it for so many days.

The Kazanskis have a tradition: they spend the morning making chocolate chip cookies or Christmas cookies and give them away after the switch-on, with some hot chocolate. This year, it’s the Christmas cookies. You’ve been decorating cookies in different shapes: Christmas trees, candy canes, and snowmen. The boys made the dough (Rooster was only allowed to knead it), and the girls and Jesse were in charge of decorating.

You’re walking toward the town square, holding Jesse’s hand. Rooster is holding his other hand. He seems to be the happiest kid in town.

“Uncle Roos, how big is the Christmas tree?” Jesse asks while jumping around.

“Hmmm, I think it’s 20 feet tall”

“Is that big?” he asks again.

Rooster nods, stopping and kneeling down to fasten Jesse’s scarf. “Oh, yes. Really big”

“Nice!” he says, waiting until Rooster’s done to go with his mom.

"So," the pilot says as he rises to his feet. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure”

“Did you wear my hoodie this morning on purpose or was it just an accident?” He raises an eyebrow while smiling.

You roll your eyes, ignoring his question and walking away. “You’re something else, Rooster”

“What happened with nugget?”

You scoff, “You really like it, huh?”

“Grouchy, just answer me,” he grabs your hand slowly, giving you enough time to pull away in case you don’t want him to touch you. "Please"

You sigh, looking at his hand. "...it smelled like you"

"And that's…good?" He says, his eyes moving over your face, looking for answers.

You bite your lip, deciding whether to keep talking about this or not. "It was like a hug. A never-ending, comforting hug. And I needed that today," you shrug as you try to walk away, but he stops you.

"You need a hug now?" He waits for you with his arms open.

It's kind of funny seeing a man so tall, with red cheeks and nose due to the cold, opening his arms in the middle of the street, waiting for a hug.

You walk into his open arms, a place that is slowly becoming a refuge. "I am supposed to hate you," you whisper, hiding your face in the crook of his neck.

“You don’t hate me,” he says, caressing your back.

“You don’t know that,” you grumble, getting closer to him and his warm body.

“Honey, you don't act like you hate me"

You raise your head, glaring at him. "And how do I act, then?"

"Like you wanna kiss me"

You let out a laugh, a nervous one. "Jesus, Rooster. You really are desperate"

He drops his arms, walking a few steps back. "Am I? Am I seeing things?"

"I don't know what you're talking about" you say, shaking your head.

"Y/n, you say that, but we both know that you had feelings for me"

"I'm not having this conversation with you" you turn around, looking for your family who is long gone.

"I heard you. After the crash. When I was in coma"

His words make you stop completely.

After the accident, when Rooster spent three days in the hospital and everyone thought he was going to give up without a fight, you didn’t move from his side. Well, you couldn’t, you had a severe wound on your belly, but you begged the doctors to put you in the same room as him. You wanted to see him, to make sure he was okay.

You didn’t allow yourself to close your eyes for two days, afraid that once you did, he would stop breathing.

On the second night, you got out of your bed as carefully as you could to not open your wound and walked to his bed, grabbing his hand and whispering to him: “If you need a reason to fight, I’ll give you one; I love you. I didn’t realize it until you said those beautiful things to me the night before prom. If you can hear me, please. Please, I need you to wake up. I need to see that smile again. And I want those pretty eyes to look at me once more. If you can hear me…”

“...wake up, please,” he says, your heart almost beating out of your chest as he continues reciting word for word what you said to him all those years ago. “I can’t lose the first person I’ve ever loved”

“Y-you heard me,” you breathe out.

“Of course I heard you! I was ready to give up. I didn’t have anyone left,” he says, moving closer to you, his hand slowly moving to your face, and waiting for you to pull apart. He doesn’t notice, but those gestures are driving you crazy. When you don’t move, his thumb caresses your cheek. “I was ready to go until I heard your voice. I couldn’t leave”

You let out a shaky breath, your body overwhelmed by all the emotions you’re going through at this moment. “W-why?”

"Because I couldn't leave my girl alone," his voice is thick; you can't tell what he's thinking right now. Everything is so new, and weird and different, and at the same time it feels like a dream. Like the 17-year-old girl inside of you, is living her teenage dream. He licks his lips, the hypnotizing movement makes your brain stop working. “Is there any possibility that my grouchy, the girl I’ve been taking care of these past few days… is that same girl that begged me to stay with her?”

Your body is shaking so much, and not because of the cold temperature, but because you don’t know the answer. Have these few days you’ve been back home rekindled some old feelings you thought were long gone? Have you become so immersed in character that you've forgotten this was supposed to be a lie? Are you hoping that after all of this, he is going to magically confess his undying love for you, just like in some Hallmark movie?

“What if it is?” you ask, not understanding your feelings, but wanting to know what he would do in that case.

“Then I’ll ask her for a chance. And I’ll make things right”

“Rooster, I- ” you choke on your words, tears coming to your eyes. This is too much; you can’t do this. What if he’s lying? What if he wants to laugh at you? No, he wouldn’t do that. What if he just wants your body, like Solo? He would never do that. You shake your head, trying to make those horrible thoughts disappear.

“Hey, hey, fly girl. Look at me” you look at his eyes, ever so gentle. “It’s me, stupid chicken. I’m not going to hurt you. Talk to me”

"I'm so scared, Rooster," you sob, finally admitting that he's right.

“I know, love. I know," he says as he wipes your tears away with your scarf. “But I just want to treat you like you deserve. I want to show you what being loved feels like.”

You close your eyes and take a deep breath. How have things changed so much in four days? You feel Rooster’s forehead against yours before he speaks again, his hot breath warming your skin.

“Can you give me a chance, grouchy?”

----------------------------------------------------------------

A/N 2: OKAY NOW THAT YOU'VE READ IT. Remember how I said these two have too much to unpack before being prepared to be in a relationship? Thena being unable to love herself, Rooster always blaming himself for the accident.... just think of all that and all the consequences this can have in their relationship, if Thena gives Rooster a chance. I'll let you think about it FOR A WEEK.

And don't forget about Solo. We haven't seen the last of him yet.

246 notes · View notes

hldailyupdate · 2 years ago

Text

Harry Styles' MCU debut as Starfox in Eternals' post-credits scene led many to wonder if it was simply for fan service, but a new update from one of Marvel Studios' producers offered a promising future for the character.

The aforementioned post-credits scene saw Styles' Eros and Pip the Troll arriving in the spaceship of Thena, Makkari, and Druig to offer their help in finding the rest of the Eternals that Arishem took at the end of the movie.

Starfox's MCU return is one of the biggest question marks of the franchise, and the hopes have dwindled after a discouraging sequel update from Barry Keoghan.

Despite that, a reassuring development about Starfox's MCU return emerged.

Speaking as a guest in Deadline's Crew Call Podcast, Marvel Studios producer Nate Moore was asked if Harry Styles' Starfox debut wasn't "just a stunt."

Moore responded by saying, "no," saying they didn't cast the former One Direction member "for a tag:"

“No, we certainly didn’t cast Harry for a tag. I mean, again– And a character [that] maybe I have too much affection for, ’cause he’s had some problematic runs in publishing, but... ”

When Moore mentioned that Starfox had some problematic runs in publishing, Deadline pointed out that the question was brought up due to the movie.

Moore continued by sharing that Eternals director Chloé Zhao was the one responsible for bringing Styles into the fold:

D’Alessandro: “That was your film, Eternals. That’s why I brought it up.”

Moore: “It was. Yeah, no, and Chloé [Zhao] is a giant Harry Styles fan and… I’d always pitch like, ‘Eros, he’s really cool.’ And she’s like, ‘It’s Harry Styles.’ And I was like, ‘Are you sure?’ And she was obsessed, and chased him down, and got him into the movie."

The MCU producer then reassured that "there are more stories to be told" with Starfox, noting his "really interesting connection" with Thanos.

Moore also teased that "there's no limit" to how good Starfox will be in his return:

"But there are more stories to be told with that character. He’s fascinating. He has a really interesting connection with Thanos; they’re half-brothers and share the same father. He has an interesting power set. He’s a complicated character, but a really fun character. And I think… having met Harry Styles, he is as charming as you want him to be. And I think there’s no limit to how good that character’s going to be once we get to bring him back.”

It is unknown when Starfox will return, but in a past interview, Styles mentioned that he "[doesn't] imagine [he'd] do a movie for a while," joking how "it'd be funny if [Eternals] was it" for his MCU debut.

The actor also admitted how “[he] think[s] there’ll be a time again when [he’ll] crave it,” but that he’s currently focused on his music career at this stage.

Still, Marvel Studios president Kevin Feige teased that Styles will have a role to play at some point in the franchise's future, even using the word "exciting:"

"Yes, the adventures of Eros and Pip is something that’s very exciting for us."

When Will Harry Styles' Starfox Return?

Marvel Studios producer Nate Moore's latest reassuring comments indicate that there is indeed a plan to bring Harry Styles' Starfox back into the MCU. This should ease the worries of many fans, especially after Ms. Marvel actress Iman Vellani felt "weird" about the actor's debut.

Adapting Starfox's story into the MCU is not an easy feat. Jim Starlin, the character's creator, even admitted that he “[has] no idea” how the MCU will handle the character, seeing as he’s a “sociopath” and “sexual predator.”

Still, Marvel Studios' expertise in handling complex stories amid a shared universe setup is poised to be more than enough to handle a complicated character like Starfox.

As for when Starfox will return, the long-rumored Eternals sequel is the best bet. Although a past rumor revealed that a solo Disney+ project could be in the cards for Starfox, it remains to be seen if it will come to fruition.

However, Pip the Troll actor Patton Oswalt offered optimism about a Starfox/Pip project, noting that Marvel's projects about lesser-known characters always seem to "end up kind of really blossoming."

Whatever the case, the future is bright for Harry Styles' Starfox.

via The Direct. (10 January 2023)

#harry styles #harry update #marvel #star fox #the direct #article #january 2023

177 notes · View notes

zafirosreverie · 2 years ago

Text

The M word (Ajak x F!Reader)

This...I don’t even know what’s this. But enjoy!

(part 2)

__________________________

"She's doing it again" Gilgamesh frowned "Thena! She's doing it again!"

"Again?"

"It's the fifth time this week" Phastos said, joining them in the stands.

Usually, he'd be in his workshop, grateful that the rest of the Eternals were finally quiet, but ever since you'd come into their lives, he had to admit that he'd been taking more and more breaks. He couldn't help it, the current situation was too funny for everyone.

Ajak, the leader, the prime eternal, was in love. She was totally and completely head over heels in love with you. None of them knew the full story, because the woman had strictly forbidden you to talk about how you met, but that didn't stop them from having fun.

It was inevitable, you were the best thing that had happened to them in...a long time. You were strong enough to fight Thena and Kingo, smart enough to follow Phastos' conversations, you loved talking to Druig about human morality, you didn't mind making a fool of yourself to play with Sprite and Sersi, and you were as kind and cool as Gilgamesh and Makkari. Even Ikaris had developed a soft spot for you, treating you like a sister.

And most importantly: you were immortal, despite not exactly being an eternal. So neither of them had to worry about you getting hurt in battle (not that Ajak paid attention to that detail, she was always nervous when you went to fight), or time closing in on you and you dying while they blinked.

You were the perfect match for Ajak, and everyone could see the love the woman had for you, one that was fully reflected in your eyes as well. Sprite and Kingo had teased a bit the first time they saw you kissing, but deep down they all knew that you were a permanent part of their lives now, they just needed to make it official.

Which would be easier if Ajak would stop blushing like a schoolgirl with her first crush every time she saw you and finally ask you the all-important question. They had all given her space, not wanting to pressure her, but it had been years since you had been with them and everyone was running out of patience.

"What are we watching?" Druig asked, appearing out of nowhere.

"Ajak is watching Makkari and Y/N train" Thena explained "We are watching Ajak being a nervous wreck while she watches Makkari and Y/N train"

"My favorite show" he replied, standing next to Phastos.

Ajak kept her gaze on you, pretending not to hear her friends behind her. She wasn't stupid, she knew that sooner or later they were going to come up with the same request as always, but the answer was still no. It's not that she didn't want to take that step, she loved you, but it made her nervous to think about the M word.

"Why don't you make her a camera, Phastos? It'll last her longer" Thena smiled as Ajak flinched.

"Oh, I'm sure it's not necessary" the man answered trying to contain a laugh "she already has Y/N’s image completely burned into her mind"

"I told you to let me into Y/N's mind" Druig intervened "this would have been over years ago"

"Enough!"

The four Eternals jumped as the leader approached them with fire in her eyes and her face completely red. Maybe she was shorter than all of them, but an annoying Ajak always commanded respect, even from Thena.

"I will not tolerate this...taunting from you, is that clear?"

"We would stop doing it if you did what you have to do" Thena replied. (I said that she commanded respect, not fear)

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

"Ajak, you're daydreaming about kissing Y/N all the time" Druig said

"That's not true" the woman blushed

"She's daydreaming about fucking her all the time" the blonde smirked.

"THENA!"

“You didn’t deny it”

"m-hmm, kisses and sex, that's what marriage is all about, you're dreaming of marrying her" Phastos smiled

"Enough! Get out of here, all of you"

"Did I hear Ajak, Y/N, and marriage in the same sentence?" Kingo asked, sticking his head through the arch of the door "Ohhhh, finally?! Excellent!! I already have everything planned, wait, I'm going to get my notebook, this will be the best wedding ever!!"

"Kingo!"

Ajak let out a mortified groan as the other four Eternals laughed around her. Was it really that hard to ask for a little privacy in this family?!

"Who's getting married?" you asked, appearing suddenly behind her

The prime eternal froze in her place and glanced sideways at Thena, who was failing miserably to hide her victorious smile. She was going to kill each and every one of them in their sleep.

"You and Ajak!" Kingo replied from inside "Don't worry, I'll send you the invitation tomorrow when I have your dress!"

"Kingo!!!!"

#reader insert #x reader #ajak x reader #ajak imagine #ajak preferences #ajak eternals #ajak (marvel)#ajak #eternals x reader #eternals #mcu x reader #salma hayek ajak

202 notes · View notes

redheadspark · 2 years ago

Text

Milo

Summary: Druig finds a message from an old friend, and his heart breaks all over again

Warnings: Angst, mentions of death and grief

A/N: I HAD to write an angsty piece with Druig, and angst is not my forte! I hope you all like it :)

Druig was sitting on the edge of his bed, the view of space right outside his window and the scattered stars making the picture for him in what he was feeling inward: stillness, vast openness. Loneliness.

Yeah, loneliness was kicking in.

The last few days were nothing but a blur to him, having both mental and physical reminders of all that occurred. It would be some time for Druig to really let things settle. But the fact of the matter is that it was too raw, too much to just let go. He knew the others were in the same boat as he was, if not a bit less or more. Who knew, Druig never wanted to ask, he had other things to worry about or think about.

Walking away from Earth for the first time since he arrived seemed like the best idea, given the circumstance he was in. The village he created and looked after for the last 500 years would be fine without him, none of them were ever held captive or held against their will to stay with him. He had no real home or a place to stay to call his own apart from the jungle, so the Domo was the next best option. Makkari and Thena came on the Domo, wishing to find other Eternals that could be out in the universe and beyond. Druig was pondering that same theory too when they all learned of their true nature and objective. Of course, Druig had his suspicions of Arishem for some time, long before they all found out about the Emergence and that they were created to help destroy planets. But now it was certain: Arishem was not to be trusted.

Druig has dealt with loss more within the last few days than he ever thought he would, personally and intimately. Although he has seen humans murder one another throughout the centuries and throughout his time on the planet, he grew a calloused shield in a sense. It still pained him, mostly because he was told to never intervene and to never stop the actions since it was part of their evolution and their time on the planet. But there was never a death that was close to him, almost part of him really, that shook him to his core. Up until a few days ago.

The loss of Ajak and Gilgamesh was bad enough, and Druig was sad that he was never going to see them again. He always had a history with Ajax, butting heads with her and never seeing eye to eye when it came to her allegiance to Arishem. Yet the guilt of knowing that she loved the humans as much as he did, he wished she was alive to ask for forgiveness. And for Gilgamesh, Druig always loved his joy and optimism about life and the people around him. Seeing Gilgamesh be devoted to Thena and her well-being, doing anything he can to keep her safe and her mind intact, made Druig wish he had that with someone.

He rubbed his fingers along his eyelids, feeling the tension all over his body and the grief weighing down on him. There was still one mystery that Druig has yet to uncover, and it was eating him alive. The seed was planted a few days prior, out in the small countryside in rural Scotland, back when Druig was going to be an old friend again.

That wasn’t the case.

He felt something rub against his foot, his eyes opening up again and looking down along the floor. Next to his bare feet, an orange form of some kind. Fur, soft and yet tough fur that was against his pale ankle, and a long tail curling around his ankle with ease. Druig cocked his head, seeing the head of the animals finally perk up at him.

An orange tabby, wearing a unique collar.

“Hmm,” Druig hummed to himself, reaching down to touch the top of the cat's head. The cat instantly purred and molded against his palm. Druig was never one to be fully fond of cats, he tolerated them back in his village since they would help with the pest problems and be great alarms for night raiders. But still, they were okay and hard to deal with at times since they were independent. Yet now, out in the middle of space, he was giving love and affection to a simple cat.

A simple cat who belonged to someone he loved.

The collar around his neck was one he’s never seen before, a small pendant on the front of the collar that was dangling and almost sounding like a bell. Drug finally got down on the level of the cat, scratching the back of its ears to see the pendant there. He’s yet to see it in full since getting the cat on the Domo was already a surreal moment to begin with. Cats were never one to really trust a stranger, not how Druig remembered it. But this one, in particular, took to him as if Druig was its master. How strange.

“You’re odd one, aren’t ya?” Druig murmured, his voice heavy and still laced with tiredness and a hint of grief as he moved his fingers over to the pendant. Carefully and without disturbing the little cat, he took off the collar with a soft click, wishing to examine it better. But once he had the collar in his palm, seeing how small it was and well worn, a light shined from the top of the pendant and Druig nearly dropped it. The light morphed into some kind of image, the flicking of the light made Druig see what it was and he was shocked.

A face, a holographic face. Your face.

Druig dropped the collar on the ground, though your face stayed illuminated in front of him and hovering over the cat collar. His eyes were on yours, seeing the roundness of your cheeks and the cool look of your bright eyes that always reminded him of the gray storms over the open ocean. Your hair, the same shade of warm fall leaves on the ground, clenched at Druid’s heart and made Druig only wish to reach out and touch it with his fingers. But the look you were giving in this message, it had to be a message, it was rather grave. Or solemn. He had no clue.

“If you are seeing my face, that means two things happened: One is that you’re an Eternal, only because of the energy an Eternal carries is linked to this metal that I conceived and carried. No other energy, including human energy, can activates this message by touch, so I know this is in the right hands. Secondly, it means I am dead. Or about to die. Either way, I’m already dead by the time this plays.”

Hearing your voice made Druig feel tears already along his eyelashes, the heaviness of his throat was felt and his fingers clenched in his lap so tight. He knew this was merely a message, but in his mind, he wished it was real. He wished you were there in front of him, with your warm tone of voice that reminded him of the summer sun, or your touch along his skin that felt like the first snowfall in winter. It was both a great and sick feeling, seeing a here message of you and earring your voice that almost seemed real. Almost.

“If you have this in your possession, then that means something happened and we are all together again. I hope it’s something that you all can figure out on your own, and I wish I was there to see you again. But this is a warning, and I want to warn you all before it’s too late. Deviants are back….and they’re coming for me.”

Druig sat up from the mention of the creatures, his eyes going big from hearing that from you.

“At first I thought I was imagining it, since the last time we ever had to deal with Deviants was back when e were all…..all together,” You paused in the message, almost grimacing from the memory of that night when you all split apart. Druig did too, looking down for a moment and remembering all that happened. Thena’s Mahd Wy Ry, Druig in a rage for not helping the humans that were being slaughtered in front of them, and leaving them all behind. Leaving you behind. Druig would forever remember your face in his mind, heartbroken and in mourning as he turned his back on you.

Druig would forever regret it.

“But I know when I see the future, and I saw them coming here to my home. I saw it first three days ago, and then two days ago, and now….now they’ll be here within 10 minutes. There’s not much I can do on my own, and if what I saw in my prediction was correct: they are stronger than what we are used to. Somehow they’re stronger and deadlier, and I saw my death happen. I cannot change the future once it is set in motion, I know that. So I’m…I’m ready to die.”

How could one be ready to die? In Druig’s mind, it made no sense. It pained him to see how calm and collect you were on the message, there was no sign of fear or regret there within your eyes and along your lips. You were merely at peace, at peace knowing that your life was about to end.

“I hope you all find this and take this warning to heart, be careful and mindful of these Deviants. They’re not like the ones we have fought long ago, almost like they were engineered by something, or someone, else. Either way, they’re coming for me and then they’re coming for you. I can only hope you all are together again to fight them since we were better together than we were apart.”

You paused, looking away for a moment almost to collect yourself. Druig watched hopelessly, wishing once again he could reach out and give you some kind of comfort. He always hated it when you saw a future and there was no way you could change it. Just in the way he couldn’t control the humans and stop them from bringing harm, you couldn’t stop the future once it was set in motion. It was one of the first common traits you two shared together that Druig loved.

“I wished I would have seen you all again,” You admitted, looking back in front of you and Druig seeing almost the tiniest hint of pain in your orbs, “We all went our separate ways, and although it was for the best, I still missed all of you. Sersi’s kindness, Kingo’s humor, Sprites’s sarcasm, Phastos’s brilliant inventions, Gilgamesh’s gentle soul, Thena’s ambitious drive, Makkari’s smile, Ajak’s leadership, Ikaris’s assertiveness….. Druig’s love,”

Druig pushed away a tear that was falling down his cheek from the mention of his name. That tear he felt in his heart was getting bigger and wider, almost like a canyon instead of a small gap and he felt there was no way to make it short again.

“I just want you all to know…I love each of you. I would have loved to have gone back to Olympia with you all, and maybe I’ll see you there after I die. Who knows, but I do know that I don’t regret being on this planet with you. All I ask is for you to take care of this planet, it’s a good planet with good humans on it. All we’ve seen and experienced here is good, chaotic at times, but good. And…take care of each other. We are family after all.”

The hologram went off instantly, the room going dark and leaving Druig again in the quietness of his room.

Druig sunk back against the side of his bed, replaying that message over and over in his mind as the orange tabby cat was now curled up around his foot, rubbing against his leg and falling asleep nice and content with Druig. Druig felt like he was punched in the gut and stabbed in his side, beyond raw to say or do anything else.

How could he not have reached out to you after he left? He was far too stubborn in his ways when he was in the village to even let the others know if he was safe and happy. You would have wanted to know, Druig knew that for a fact. You two were thick as thieves, almost in tune with one another. He was even bitter that you chose to stay with the others in the temple, thinking you two were closer than you were and that you would follow him. Instead, he set heartbreak, maybe thinking he made the wrong choice.

Not in going with his beliefs, but for not telling you his feelings towards you.

Druig looked back down at the cat, who was already asleep with the tail around his ankle and his put nice and loud in the room. He had it chuckle, finding it a bit funny that he found this cat at your cottage. Well, what was left of your cottage. He looked at the pendant on the collar once more, turning it over to the backside, and the small engraved mark that was along the metal.

With a raised eyebrow, he touched the engraved D with the top of his finger. Once again, there was light in the room as your face reappeared in front of Druig.

“Druig, this message is just for you,” You said on the hologram, Druig’s attention was once again on high alert as you took in a long breath, “I wanted to give you a separate message because….because I have something I wish to tell you. I know you’re with the others, and perhaps you’re watching this alone, and I know they had to convince you somehow to get back together since you’re stubborn in your ways. But….but I hope you’re okay with your life,”

You grinned on the hologram, Druig tearfully grinning too.

“Makkari told me she saw your village about 100 years after you left us, and she told me your village is beautiful and thriving. I wish I could have seen it, knowing you and how you care about the humans, it would have been a sight to see. I should have been braver and followed my gut, like you, but I was afraid to. And for that, I’m sorry for not going with you into the jungle. Just so you know Druig, I would have in a heartbeat,”

Druig drew his knees to his chest to rest his chin on top of his knees, feeling more like a child than anything with wide wonder and disbelief as he was hearing you say such things.

“Out of everyone, you were the one I was closest to. I saw your heart, no matter the callouses and how minty times you tried to hide it breaking from the humans, and I found it to be one of the most beautiful hearts I have ever seen Druig. You had no pride in yourself, and sometimes I think the others would benefit from learning from you when it comes to not taking in any pride. Especially Ikaris, him and his ‘Golden Boy’ Persona,”

Druig chuckled, a tear grin on his face as you kept talking and grinned widely.

“My first regret is never following you to the jungle, and the second is….never telling you that I loved you.”

If time had the ability to stop, everything would have gone still in that moment when Druig heard those words.

“Cowardice is a funny thing, it can keep a person from taking a risk or a leap. Even an Eternal can sense and feel it, and I never thought it would be me. But love is another tricky thing to navigate, and I have suffered from it too. Yet still, even after so many years and all of my time alone, I never regret falling in love with you. Because loving you made me feel as though I could fly, that I could produce my own energy like the sun, or even just….just being profoundly happy,”

“But it was never my place to tell you, I didn’t think it was. Our paths were never meant to be, and that had to be my reality. But I know I have to tell you now before it would never be said because I know you had doubts about your worth and if anyone would ever love you. Druig, you are more loved than you could ever imagine,”

Druig could think back to the plenty of times you two were together, long before Druig left you and the rest of the Eternals behind. You two would chat together about everything and anything your heart desired, Druig wished to hear every premonition that you had and help you decipher what it meant, you would discuss his thirst to help humanity and keep the humans safe. He enjoyed your company, far more than the others. There was no doubt you had a special place in his heart, and now to have your own feeling be presented to him after your death, Druig felt as though, for a split moment, he missed his chance.

He knew he missed his chance, and he was regretting it more and more.

“You don’t deserve to hear all of this though, Druig. You deserve a long and happy life, on this planet or back home in Olympia. I know you have doubts about Arishem and what you can do for the humans, but if you could be one favor while you’re still on earth.”

Druig would do anything for you at this point. It didn’t matter if he never said goodbye, nor did it matter that he never saw your face one last time. All that mattered was that you were thinking of him, in your very last moment alive before you would be murdered, and that was what broke Druig’s heart even more. Druig merely wished to turn back time, to go back and stop himself from leaving you behind. Or to even take you with him, and maybe you both would have a life together that would be bearable.

When Druig and the other Eternals found your cottage, perched and nestled in the countryside and was halfway destroyed, it broke Druig’s heart. To see all of the craftsmanship that you place in making that little house your home now almost reduced to rubble and dust along the green grass and the little river trickling by in front of your flower garden bed.

He did love you, Druig was never to say he was never in love with you. You brought light to his darker days, hope to his times of despair, and strength when he was weak. Maybe he was oblivious to the fact that he loved you, and made he too was afraid to act on it like you were with your own love for him. You both were afraid to jump, and now there was no hope of trying again.

“I want you to live, Druig,” You said softly, your voice the softest tremor in his room that float along the walls, “Not just live from morning to night. But really live: go see the world that is out there beyond your village and out of the jungle. The world is big and full of goodness, much more than you can ever imagine or you’re ever dared to dream. All you need to do is go, go out there and see all that the humans have done”

Druig still felt his heart falling and yet flying at the same time. Even while he left his village behind and save the planet, he still left as though he left behind on Earth when he walked up onto the Domo ramp and sped away into outer space. You loved being on Earth, Druig saw it the moment you stepped foot on the surface for the first time. He would have wished to see you those 500 years, exploring all that there was to explore. Perhaps backpacking over the mountaintop, or going along the vass desert plains. You would have drank it all in and have the thirst to see more. And maybe, in some other life, Druig would have joined you.

He could imagine it all: you two traveling the world together and seeing all that the humans have done. Druig would have had you drag him from continent to continent, trying all the food and cuisine that would expand your taste pallets, Seeing all the colors of nature, and the humans. The humans filled with joy, the humans filled with hope.

The humans and their love for their planet.

“The cat that carries this message is special to me, please take good care of him,” Druig looked down at the now sleeping cat, the tail still wrapped around his ankle and his paws under his head, “His name is Milo. Such a funny name for a cat really, but he was the runt of his litter when he was born in my barn. I didn’t have the heart to give him away, so I kept him and he’s been nothing but good to me. He’s a good cat, and he reminds me of you because he loves food and he scowls whenever he has the chance. But he also knows a good person when they come along, he can read into them and sense if they have a good heart. So I think you two will be perfect together,”

Druig, on instinct, reached down to touch the top of Milo’s head and rubbed the fur, Milo mewling softly in his sleep and stretching out very slightly from the contact.

“Druig, just remember these two things for me,” You finally said to him, Druig looking from Milo over to your face now as he knew the message was about to be over, “One, don’t be afraid to live here on Earth and see all that there is to be seen. And two, you are more loved than you can ever imagine. Don’t ever forget that, ever. I hope we met again in Olympia, I think we will, and I can’t wait to see you again. Goodbye Druig, and take care.”

The hologram was now done, the room going dark again and Druig was left in stunned silence.

Everything was coming over him like an ocean wave: anger, sadness, defeat, remorse, grief, heartbreak. It all felt too much and not enough at the same time, perhaps it was because all of those two minutes of hearing you talk to him as if you were in the room was overwhelming him. Maybe also It was because he never thought he would see you like this again.

Druig freely cried on the floor in his room, letting the tears fall and just take over for a few moments. There was nothing else for Druig to do. You were gone, even before you were dead you were gone since you two were never together. He was mentally kicking himself for not fighting harder for you, for not acting on his feelings, and for letting you know he loved you more than reason. But then again, the sick way that time worked, he would have to go on.

So as he went to bed that night with the galaxy in front of him through the window, he dreamt he was with you again. That you visited him in his Amazon Village and all was well. Milo was curled under his arm, purring away and content with his new owner and new human, somehow knowing that Druig needed his love. He did, and he vowed to protect the little cat with all his might.

The one last piece of you there was left in his world.

The End.

Tagged: @a-lumos-in-the-nox @basicrese @heartofwritiing @virtueassassin @hottpinkpenguin @botanicalbarnes

#druig angst #druig x female reader #druig x female reader #druig x you #druig x reader #druig x oc #druig x y/n #druig x eternal!reader #eternals fan writing #eternals fanfiction #mcu writing #mcu fanfiction #marvel cinematic fanfiction #marvel cinematic universe fanfiction #marvel cinematic universe

112 notes · View notes