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vixenpen · 4 years

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Fuck A Fan (Bakugo x Camgirl reader pt. 1)

You had gotten the idea from one of your best friends in the cam industry.

“You sure this will work?”

“Trust me boo,” he had replied, “sometimes the best motivation for a man is a little friendly competition.”

Your bestie had insisted that a fuck a fan contest would be the perfect way to get CallMeKing to finally make good on his unfulfilled promise to see you.

Putting the finishing touches on your flyer, you finally posted the announcement to all social media. You knew CMK was still lurking. So he’d definitely see it. Hopefully, this little contest would be enough to spark his interest, if this failed, you were going to scream.

Because for the first time in your cam career, a man had you chasing him.

The audacity!

To be fair, he did say that he wanted to see you too, but had to keep a low profile due to his career. He promised as soon as worked dialed down you guys would meet up.

Well that had been over a year ago, and not only had you guys not met face to face; he also didn’t seem to check in on you as much anymore.

He still tipped and re-subbed to your page. He had even cash-apped you money for Christmas and your birthday.

But aside from that, there were no more late night, sexting sessions, no more random check ins, no more nude trading.

At first, you brushed it off.

He was apparently a very successful man. Successful men were busy. They couldn’t give you every second of their time. As a successful woman, you could relate to that.

Not to mention, you were a bad bitch and bad bitches did not pine over any man.

PERIODTTT.

Buuuut...when the man in question was fine as hell with boulders for biceps, a big dick, and long money, well...you’d like to think the City Girls, Meg the Stallion, and all the other bad bitches you looked up to would understand your thirst.

“Alright, King,” you sat back in the furry, white computer chair and glared at your laptop screen. “Ball is in your court now.”

“Mr. Ground Zero, can I get a picture too?”

A precocious looking blue haired kid asked. He stared up at Katsuki with wide, hopeful eyes.

Katsuki grimaced.

“Whatever kid, c’mon.”

He leaned down, attempting to keep a safe distance from the walking germ pool, while keeping in the lens of his camera phone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Thanks a lot, Mr. Ground Zero!”

The kid giddily ran back to his group of friends.

Kirishima slung his arm around Bakugo’s shoulder, weighing down on his slightly shorter friend.

“Wow, Bakubro, looks like those public relations training classes have really been working, huh?”

“Whatever, I just don’t need anymore shitty press with kids.”

“You still have energy for happy hour with Sero and Me tonight?”

Bakugo replied with a noncommittal shrug. He scrolled absentmindedly through his phone as he and Kirishima headed towards their agencies to call it a day.

He decided to check in on (cam name’s) IG page to see how she was doing.

A pang of longing tugged at him. He missed her. A lot. Sure, she was a cam girl, and being friendly and flirty was her job, but she always brightened his days. With crime picking up steadily over the past year, Bakugo could use her presence in his life now more than ever, unfortunately, nothing in his schedule would permit it.

He was researching a new threat that had been developing in the crime world. Apparently the new mob of villains seemed to have some connections to the crime world in America, and Bakugo found himself flying back and forth to the west for meetings and to make media rounds to help put the public at ease.

His sleep schedule was completely out of whack with all the stress he was under, so any spare moment he wasn’t working, he was sleeping. Which meant no time for his virtual boo thing. Though he did try to make it known he was thinking about her with bill money.

As he flipped through her newest posts, something caught his eyes.

Fuck a fan contest? Winner gets to make content with me at secure location!

What the fuck was this shit?

Whatever it was, he was certainly going to get to the bottom of it when he got home.

CMK: Hey, (cam name) what’s this all about?

Y/N: what does it look like? Fuck a fan contest

CMK: fuck u mean? You don’t do meet ups!

Y/N: 🤷🏾‍��️ first time for everything.

Anger hummed beneath Bakugo’s skin. Since when did y/n start doing meet ups? She had always told him she didn’t trust her fans as far as she could throw them.

He had encouraged her to not be forthcoming with personal information and never feel like she had to meet up with randos online for money. He would take care of anything she needed before it came to that.

So what was the meaning of this? Had he not been taking good enough care of her? Keeping her bills paid? Her nails and hair done?

Y/N: u entering or what? 👀

CMK: hell no im not entering and neither is anyone else. Now take that shit down.

Y/n: (voice note) first the fuck of all, you don’t tell me what to do. Second the fuck of all, do you know how much money is in this? You ain’t stopping my bag boo. Period! 💅🏾

He was practically seething. Who the fuck did she think she was talking to like that?

Who the fuck did she think she was saying no to?!

His dick stirred in his pants as he re-listened to the voice note of her cursing him out.

CMK: how much does it take to win?

Y/N: just whoever has the most.

CMK tipped $150,000

CMK: now take it the fuck down

Y/N: nobody else has entered yet.

CMK: nobody else up here has the money I have.

Y/N: if you’re not meeting with me, I ain’t takin it down.

CMK: god fucking dammit y/n. Tonight. 9pm. Text me the addy. I’ll have my driver pick you up.

True to his word, CMK had his driver pick you up an hour and a half before the time he had mentioned.

Your knee bounced, causing the black mini dress hugging your shapely thighs to ride up. You pulled it down absentmindedly.

You could count on one hand how many times you had been flown out by one of your fans. It certainly wasn’t a weekly occurrence for you the way it was for other models.

Fear and excitement fluttered in your stomach.

You wondered what the driver thought of you. Heading to this rich and powerful man’s house in the middle of the night.

You had tried to dress up as if you were going to be taken on a fancy date. Your hair styled, silver chandelier earrings dripping from your lobes to match the long silver necklace that dipped between your pushed up cleavage.

If the driver gave two shits, you at least hoped he thought you were going to get a nice meal before getting dicked down.

The community where CMK lived was on the outskirts of town; hidden in a forest of natural and manicured foliage. One could go literal miles between each home before they saw the next one.

You pressed your forehead against the window to take in the flora and fauna, manicured lawns, and huge mansions. So. Many. Styles. Of mansions!

“Here we are ma’am.” the driver announced.

He drove you up a looping, stone drive way that led to a very modern home that reminded you a bit of abstract art what with its odd angles, jutting sides, and square architecture.

The driver stepped out and opened your door. Once you were faced with the massive stairs and wooden doors before you, the song: Pretty Woman blared in your mind. You certainly felt that way.

Before you could knock, the door swung open revealing a pair of red eyes that were devouring your body head to toe.

“Oh my god...”

“Wasn’t expecting to hear that before I even touched you, beautiful.” He chuckled. His lips quirked into the cocky half smirk you’d grown familiar with from his interviews.

Was this real? Call me king was Ground Zero?!

“C-call me king?” You managed to stutter out pitifully.

“I would prefer to call you by your real name.” He joked. “Come in, beautiful.” He grabbed your hand gently and pulled you through the door.

You couldn’t even appreciate the high ceilings, polished wood floors, and tasteful stone wash colored furniture as you followed Ground Zero through the door.

He took leggy strides into the airy kitchen taking out a couple of glasses from a cupboard. You could only gawk.

He looked good as hell in his short sleeved denim button up shirt and ripped black jeans. His physique flexed under the well tailored clothes showing off the broad chest and bulging biceps you’d seen in the Nudes. His spiky Blonde hair looked soft and a bit damp.

“You wanna drink, beautiful?”

“I don’t accept drinks from new people in new environments.”

He looked up to shoot you a half smile. The usual mischief was missing from his red eyes, replaced with genuine affection.

“Of course you don’t. My (cam name.)”

“F/N,” you replied.

“Bout damn time you gave me a real name. Mine is Bakugo, babe.”

He strolled over with a glass of water for himself.

“So, f/n,” his ruby colored eyes darkened with a predatory gleam as he stepped right to your face. “Why don’t you have a seat? I promise the couch won’t bite.”

He brought a hand down to smack your round ass, making you jump.

“Can’t say the same for myself though.”

Licking your lips, you lowered yourself into the couch. Bakugo settled beside you so close the sides of your bodies touched. He draped an arm around your shoulder.

“I know you got a camsona and all, but damn, y/n, where’s my feisty little c/n? Huh? Lil Ms. Period!” His voice took on a lighter tone as he tried to imitate your twang.

The attempt earned him a giggle.

“Well excuse me, sir, but I wasn’t expecting the number two pro-hero in Japan to be my biggest fan.” You snapped back, playfully rolling your eyes. “Forgive me if I’m still wrapping my brain around it.”

“There’s that smart ass mouth I love so much.” He tucked your chin.

This close to him, you could feel his warm minty breath fanning against your lips. A familiar warmth was already growing between your legs.

Pulling away you asked: “Why me?”

“Hah?” His brows knit in confusion. “Fuck kinda question is that? What do you mean why you?”

“I mean, I’m a bad bitch or whatever, but I’m just...me and you’re...you.”

“Tch. You just answered your own damn question, dumb ass.” He tilted your face back towards him. You felt his other large hand roam the bare skin of your thigh and shivered.

“You’re a bad bitch. You don’t seem to forget that any other time, don’t fuckin’ forget it now, got that? Your confidence is what’s sexy about you.”

A smile tugged at your lips as heat flooded your cheeks.

“You know, when you’re not being a fuckin’ asshole, you can be pretty damn charming when you wanna be.”

“And when you’re not being a defiant little brat, you can be real fucking cute.”

A moan slipped from your glossy lips as his hand crept steadily up your thigh

“Please,” you leaned closer to him, “you love my brattiness.”

He scoffed, amused.

“I’ll show you just how much I like it.”

Without warning, Bakugo scooped you up. His large, rough hands dug into the soft flesh of your round ass as he straddled you on his lap.

Your wet, bare pussy pressed into his bulge as he stole a greedy kiss. Your gasp quickly morphed into a moan as desire burned in your core and flooded your entire body.

His tongue overtook your mouth effortlessly.

“No panties, huh, brat? I can feel you leaking through my jeans.”

“I hate panties,” you managed between kisses. “And bras.”

That little confession just inspired more arousal in Bakugo. He deposited you on the long couch and let his hot tongue snake along every sensitive bit of exposed flesh he could find. Goosebumps rose on your skin.

“Damn, beautiful,” he managed between kisses, “can’t wait to taste the rest of you.”

His bulge rubbed your aching clit deliciously.

You tugged his shirt up over his mess of blonde hair.

He grabbed the deep ‘V’ of your dress and ripped it open, drawing a gasp from you.

“Now we match.” He grinned

“You ass—“

“You’ll have a new outfit by tomorrow afternoon, now shut up.”

True to his word, Bakugo tasted every inch of you. He nibbled your ears making you shiver, licked your nipples making you hiss his name, and devoured your toes like blow pops.

Your body was trembling from sensory overload.

“God..” you moaned.

“You look like you want something, babe,” Bakugo smiled wickedly as he hovered above you. “What is it?”

“Eat me.”

#bnha headcanons #black writers #mha headcanons #bnha #my hero academia #bnha imagines #bnha bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugo x reader #self insert #bnha smut #bnha scenarios #my hero fanfic #bakugo smut #boku no hero academia #Youtube

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velasnyx · 5 years

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Emaziska Naruto AU Ch. 10

Another week passed and I was finally cleared to go on missions again. It was torture sitting around doing nothing. It gives me too much time for my mind to wander. I was just in luck too. I was receiving a mission immediately. I was so relieved to be getting out of the village. I made my way to the Hokage’s office with haste. In the hall, I passed by the Skye girl. I haven’t really seen her since the training incident. Only when I’d check up on her every now and then but that was from afar. “Hey,” she said. “Hey”. We fell silent. I’m not good at small talk. I suppose I should ask how she is. “Are you doing alright?” I asked. “Yeah, I’ve been doing okay,” she answered. Another bout of awkward silence. Do I leave? Do I bring something else up? How can I bring up another topic when I’m bad at social interactions? “You got a mission?” she asked. “Yes. What about you?”. “Yeah. I’m on the way to briefing,” she said. I’m on the way to briefing. No. God NO. Please, not again. “Well, good luck on your mission,” I said. “Ditto”. We went our separate ways.

I stood before the doors. I was hoping I wouldn’t see her in that room. I opened the door. There were a quite a few people in the room. Diego Sensei, Wright, Mia, Adrian, and… her. Dammit, she is here. I walked in and stood with the others before Lady Hokage. “Now that you’re all here, let’s begin the briefing. There are multiple ninja from the Hidden Mist making their way here. To get here, they’ll have to cross Uzumaki Bridge. That is where you’ll intercept them. Among the ninja, is Jack Hammer. Your mission is to assassinate him. Mia and Diego are assigned as leaders. You will follow their orders. Do NOT disobey them. This is a very dangerous mission. Any mistake could be fatal,” Lady Third said. Jack Hammer, the second deadliest ninja from the Hidden Mist. “What about the others?” Wright asked. “I wouldn’t leave them alive but they aren’t the priority. If you can kill them, then do so,” she answered. We nodded. “Any of other questions?”. We stayed silent. “Very well. Take your leave quickly. Time is of the essence,” she said.

“Alright, let’s get going. It’s a long way to the bridge,” Mia said. We started walking from the village gate. “Franziska”. Adrian had made her way over to me. We were in Team 8 together. “It’s been a while,” she said. I cut off contact from my old team. Better off that way. “It has”. She looked a bit nervous. Adrian was always very shy and insecure. It seems she hasn’t improved on that. “I heard about what happened in your last mission,” I cut off before she could say anything else. “Yes, it seems the whole village did as well,” I said, coldly. She frowned and looked at the ground. “I uh… I was worried about you”. “You shouldn’t waste your time worrying about me,” I said.

I watched Adrian and Franziska. What is with her? She just keeps shutting Adrian down for no reason. Adrian forced a smile and chuckled. “Heh. You’re right. You always get up when you’re knocked down. It was silly of me to worry,” she said. Franziska stayed silent. Adrian slowed down a bit, gaining distance from Franziska. Geez, she’s really cold. More so than I thought. I caught of glance of Adrian’s face. She looked hurt. I felt bad for her. I walked over to her. “Hey, you okay?”. I must’ve startled cuz she started to stumble with her words. “Yo, chill. Take a breath,” I said. She frowned and took a second to gather herself. “Yeah, I’m okay”. “You just let her talk to you like that?” I asked. “She’s always been like that,” Adrian said. Like what? A dick? “That’s no excuse. You’re her teammate, not some rando,” I said. “Yeah, well, sometimes I can be annoying so it makes sense”. How could she just make excuses for her? Her behaviour is unacceptable. I didn’t want to stay on this topic. “So, you were on Diego’s team with Franziska,” I said. Adrian nodded. “That must’ve been interesting”. She chuckled. “Yeah. Especially with Klavier. We had an interesting dynamic. You trained under Gumshoe, right?”. I nodded. “I remember seeing you at the Chunin exams. You went against Fran. I still can’t believe you beat her”. Heh. Her and Maya have completely different views of how that fight ended. “Well, technically I lost,” I said. “Well, you forfeited. But, you had her cornered. You would’ve won”. I shrugged. “Eh, I still became a chunin so I’m not complaining,” I said. Winning was never the end goal. Just to be the best version of me I can be.

“Listen, I’ll only tell you again once, don’t waste your time on me. I don’t need it,” Franziska said, harshly. Adrian’s head dropped in shame. What’s her problem? I’m getting sick of this. “Oi, what’s your problem? You ever heard of mutual respect?” I said, calmly. Franziska glared at me. “Don’t stick your nose where it doesn’t belong, Skye girl,” she hissed. I rolled up eyes and stuffed my hands on my pockets. “How many times do I have to tell you? It’s Ema. Get it memorized”. “Whatever. Just mind your own business”. Jeez, she’s really ticking me off. Not enough to shake my demeanor, though. “This is my business. This became everyone’s business once you started mistreating our comrade. We were all chosen for this mission for one reason: we know how to do our jobs and we do it damn good. That means we’re all in the same level here. Which gives you no right to talk down to her like that,” I said. “Since when did you care?” Franziska said. I scoffed. “I keep to myself most of the time but don’t think I don’t know the difference between right and wrong. I highly suggest you learn the difference”. She looked furious. “Who do you think you are?” she said. “I could say the same to you,” I shot back. “Enough, you two. We’re wasting time,” Mia said. “Mind your own business!” Franziska sneered. “Do I need to have Ema repeat her speech? Break it off and focus on the mission,” Mia responded. Franziska walked over to Mia, furious. They were in a staredown. “Don’t let your ego get the best of you like it did with your father. It’s not appealing,” Mia said. “You want to say that again?!”. Franziska had activated her Sharingan. She really wants to fight? She’s wasting our time. Mia leaned in. “You don’t intimidate me, Franziska. You don’t want to fight me. You know how this will end. Even with the Sharingan, you know can’t win against me,” Mia said. Jeez, Franziska is dealing with the wrong person. She must’ve never seen Mia when she’s serious. It’s super scary. “You want to test that out?” Franziska asked. Oh God, why would she say that? “Go ahead and try”. At this point they’ll kill each other. We all watched, waiting to see what would happen. “Sensei, we need to get going if we want to intercept Hammer at the bridge,” Phoenix said to Mia. The remained in their staredown. “You heard him, Franziska. So what’ll it be?” Mia sneered. Franziska stepped back. Mia turned her back and started walking. I saw Franziska Fran a kunai and just like that she lunged at Mia. She really was attacking her. I can’t believe this. I gotta stop her. My shadow zoomed toward her. Mia disappeared. I stopped my shadow. She appeared behind Franziska. Mia twisted Franziska’s arm to hold her own kunai at the back of her neck. “We have a mission to complete. This is a waste of time. Keep yourself in line. If you have me do it for you, it won’t be pretty. Do I make myself clear?” Mia said, in an intimidating tone. Franziska stayed silent. “Do I make myself clear?” Mia repeated, sounding more agitated. “Crystal”. She let Franziska go. “Let’s go. We’ve wasted enough time”.

Night fell as we reached about halfway to the bridge. “We’ll rest here for the night. I’ll take first watch,” Mia said. We made a campfire and situated ourselves around it. Mia and Diego stood a couple feet away. They were talking about something I couldn’t hear. Franziska stood in the trees above us. “Thank you… for earlier,” a meek voice said. Adrian sat down next to me. “Huh? Oh, no need to thank me. I just wanted to speak my mind,” I said. She chuckled. “You don’t have to act so humble”. I shrugged. Phoenix laughed. “How can you be so much like Lana but at the same time be so different?” he said. I raised a brow at him. “Huh? What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked. “Don’t worry. I’m just saying you got all her food traits. Like her sense of justice and determination. You’re just less… tense”. I chuckled. “I’ll take it”. “We should rest for tomorrow. We’re gonna have to make up for today,” Phoenix said. “I’ll keep watch. I’m not too tired yet,” I said.

Adrian and Phoenix were out cold. It’s been a couple hours and I’m still not very tired. Not that it matters. I haven’t been sleeping well anyway. I locked my hands together behind my head and laid down on the ground. I watched the the sky through the little spaces between the leaves. I could see stars. Well, just barely. But there was something I COULD see clearly. Franziska was still up in the trees.I wonder if she’s sleeping up there. As if she read my thoughts, she looked down at me. Our eyes met. She had a hateful look in her eyes. That didn’t intimidate me. I have a feeling she isn’t used to that. She looked away again. Tch. What a pain. What is she even doing up there? What do I care? Maybe it’s cuz I set her off. Kinda old to be acting like that when someone calls you out on your bullshit. She better be ready for tomorrow. If she’s not well rested she’ll screw herself.

An hour’s past and she’s still up in that tree. God dammit, she is a pain. I got up and jumped up to the trees. “What do you want?”. I sucked my teeth in annoyance. Jesus, why did I even bother coming up here? “What are you doing up here?” I asked. “Came up here to be by myself. Take a hint,” she replied. I rolled my eyes. Looking up, I noticed she had a full view of the sky. “You have a better view of the stars than me. I’m envious,” I said. She sighed. “If you want to look at the stars, you can stay up here. Just stay quiet,” Franziska said. I smirked. “Heh, I can do that”. I laid down on the log and interlocked my hands behind my head. This was rather relaxing. Laying down, watching the stars with peace and quiet. “I’m sorry”. And there it goes. “For what?” I asked. “My behaviour earlier. That was unacceptable”. So now you have a sense of right and wrong? It won’t do anything for you now. At least not with me and definitely not with Mia. “I’m not the one you should apologize to,” I said. She may have lashed out at me but I’m not the one she needs to apologize to. Her apology doesn’t mean a thing to me. I wasn’t bothered by our confrontation. Adrian was the one who got hurt. And it seems like Franziska means a lot more to Adrian than she does to me. She’s just another comrade. “I suppose you’re right”. “Mm”. This chick is a real mystery. I don’t get it. What’s her deal? “She was on your old team, right?” I asked. “Yes, that’s right”. “Did something happen between you two? Like a fight or something?”. She shook her head. Ugh, so she treats her like that for no reason. That’s real shitty. I sat up and faced her. “Then why do you treat her like that? Especially since she obviously cares about you,” I said. She frowned. I guess she really feels about this. She should. But she’ll probably turn around and do the same shit again. “I uh… I just don’t do relationships”. I rolled my eyes. “So, you’re bad at picking up chicks. What does that have to do with how you treat Adrian like shit?” I said. She was silent. Uh, I don’t got all night. “No, I mean any kind of relationship”. I raised a brow. “Why?” I asked. She seemed hesitant to answer. “Because, I’ll only become a burden. Being someone to protect, that weighs heavy on me. I don’t need people getting hurt because of me. If I got no ties, then everyone will be safe,” Franziska said. I see. That’s why she was so ticked off about me getting the mark. She thinks as if it’s her fault rather than her father’s or mine. So that’s how she thinks. “That’s fucking stupid,” I said. “Well, you asked”. “That feeling of wanting to protect someone, the feeling you want to avoid, that is what binds us together. It’s a motivation that makes a shinobi better. It’s what makes the Hidden Leaf strong. The Will of Fire,” I said. I remember mom and dad being strong believers of the Will of Fire. I guess they passed that down to me. If there’s anything I’d keep to remind me of them, it’s that. She stayed silent, looking as if she was thinking about something. I laid back down and watched the stars.

#emaziska #ema skye #franziska von karma #ace attorney naruto au #emaziska naruto au

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friendly-neighborhood-michelle · 6 years

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Hey 😄 I wanted a one shot, where peter tries to hide his identity to the reader. He tries to convince her by visiting, her, wearing the spiderman suit telling, he is not Peter. And she 'believe' him. And she flirts 'spiderman man' to make Peter jelous. I dont now if that make any sense 💕

I hope you enjoy :) i got a bit carried away lol but ending is very cliche, as requested ;)

Style: one shot

Word Count: 1969

Warnings: slight cursing, fluff, and a silly/stupid peter parker

Masterlist

Request Here

Peter Parker. You’re average, everyday, run-of-the-mill, basic, boring, absent-minded, adolescent boy. Said no one ever.

Although he seemed like that on the outside, you refused to accept that fate for your best friend. He was funny, brilliant, and for some unknown reason, extremely and utterly confusing.

He would dart out of the room unexpectedly, only to come back out of breath and disheveled. You prayed to god he wasn’t running about, getting in a quickie with some rando girl every so often. Of course, your mind always brushed that away every time you thought of it, I mean, Peter wasn’t that kind of person. He was shy and extremely awkward. He’s fumble over his words and stumble over his feet. You played it off as hilarious, but really, you found it adorable. He was just so damn cute. When he’d blush, you’d blush. When he’d smile, you’d smile. When he’d cry, you’d cry.

You two had a connection no doubt, but you assumed Peter painted it in his mind as platonic. But for some goddamn reason, you couldn’t help but take it as love.

You were in love with Peter Parker.

I mean yes, he had perfect hair and a charming smile, anyone who likes guys knows that good hair is an absolute treasure and a cute smile could make your head spin uncontrollably, but it was Peter’s personality that got you hooked. He was passionate about doing the right thing, from giving a homeless citizen a hot meal to doing his chem homework done in time. The way he talked about his ambitions and love for his Aunt May, it drew you in.

Watching the smile on his face and light in his eyes captivated you, like sirens to a ship full of drunken sailors navigating the seas. But, instead of his lure taking you to a death-defying fate, it lead you straight to his heart.

You dared not ever confess your feelings, potentially risking the bond you thrived off of.

You just couldn’t escape, no matter how hard you tried.

Peter had done what he always had. He left in the middle of your after-school, study session at the library. You expected it by now, and you couldn’t tell if you were getting immune to it, or annoyed by it.

You never asked where he was going, but when he got back he always felt the need to give an excuse.

The first time;

“Sorry, May needed me.”

“Peter it’s fine, I don’t care. Just warn me before running off like that.”

The sixth time;

“Sorry ‘bout that, had to use the bathroom. It was an emergency.”

“You went to the bathroom. For 45 minutes??”

And today, the fourteenth time; (but who was counting)

“So sorry, I just got super hungry and went to Delmar’s for a quick bite.”

“Shit excuse Peter… but did you even get me anything?”

You didn’t understand. Why would he just keep running off, literally. It made absolutely no sense. But you ignored it, you trusted Peter. But you couldn’t help but wonder if he trusted you. Why would he lie to you? You thought you were closer than that.

So, you spoke up.

“Peter.”

“Yeah?” He stayed continued on with his homework.

“Why do you lie to me.” And with this, he froze.

“I don’t know what you mean Y/N.” Still, looking down at his paper, but this time not working.

“Peter. We should know each other better. You should know me better.” He looked up at you, only to meet a pair of disappointed eyes.

“We do know each other. I don’t know what you’re talking about. We’re best friends.”

“Then why do you lie to me? You just run away and come back a long enough amount of time later. Only to return looking all messed up and with some lame excuse.”

“Y/N lis-” You cut him off.

“Do you not trust me?”

“No. You know I trust you Y/N. I just have a lot going on, I don’t want to drag you into a mess and disrupt your life with it.” He looked back down, and continued on with his work.

You looked forward again, huffing out a sigh of unsatisfaction. Your eye was caught by the muted television mounted onto the wall of the library. The commonly seen “Spider-Man” was shown successfully stopping a corner mart robbery.

That. That explained it. All of it.

It undoubtedly made no sense that the timid Peter Parker could be a superhero associated with Iron Man and The Avengers. But it was the closest thing you had to a truth. So you rolled with it.

“I get it now.” Peter ignored you, only offering a slight ‘hm’ in response.

“You’re Spider-Man.” As expected, Peter shot his head up.

“That’s ridiculous Y/N. Look at me, I’m no Spider-Man.” He stumbled over his words. A typical trait to the young boy.

“Peter stop it. I know it’s you. Granted, you don’t seem to match an outside appearance of such a brave, bold superhero. But the Peter I know, would stop at nothing to do good to his beloved Queens.” He hated you for that. For complimenting him and reminding him of the reason he does it all, showing off how well you knew your best friend.

“Y/N…” he really didn’t know how to get out of this one, and even for a brief second, you hoped you’d guessed right and he’d finally stop lying. But alas, “…I told you, I’m not Spider-Man. People will never see me the way they see him, it’s not even imaginable for a kid like me to be like him. So just drop it.”

You winced at the sharp-tipped words he let out. You didn’t want to fight with Peter, so you let it go. But you didn’t let him off the hook so easy, for the rest of your study session, you didn’t pipe a single word to him. You knew It’d kill him inside. Regardless of how it pained you to do such a thing, it was mandatory in order to knock some sense into him.

After arriving home, grabbing a snack, and heading to your room, you flopped down on your bed. Closing your eyes and letting out a shaky, annoyed sigh as to how the day had gone.

You reached over your head, eyes still closed, and pulled your pillow over your face. The cool touch of your pillowcase, engulfing your senses for a brief second. You relished the feeling, before being robbed of your tranquility by a slight ‘bang’ against your window.

You groaned, sitting up, and opening your eyes. The light coming from your room hurting your eyes for a moment, after getting used to the dark setting your eyelids provided. You stood up, dragging your feet over to the window, looking out for whatever could’ve hit your window.

You assumed something fell from a fire escape a few levels above yours, or a bird hitting the window a tad when perching on the sill. But what you found was all to comedic.

There he was, Peter. Well, Spider-Man. If Peter was Spider-Man, you’d known he was here to discourage you from your former accusations.

You opened the window and stepped out. Smirking at the overdramatic gesture.

“Hi.” Was all he said.

“Hey Pete. How’s the trouble in Queens tonight?” You smirked.

“I-I’m sorry, you must be mistaken.” Funny, Spider-Man was less confident than Peter when it came to playing something off.

“Oh, my bad. So Spider-Man,” you figured you have some fun an make Ol’ Petey jealous, “I just can’t help myself.” You placed a hand gently on his bicep. “Oh my,” you said dramatically, “You’re SO strong and brave,” you dramatically, again, bit your lip, “There’s no way you could be Peter. He’s nothing like the man you are Spidey.”

And with that, he was a goner.

“Wha-What do you mean, ‘no way,’ I-I mean he could be at least a-a little manly… like m-me.” He choked out.

“Nope. No way in hell he could ever be as muscular and hot as you are.” It was so hard to not burst out in laughter right then and there. You didn’t care if by putting on this act you were hinting towards your longing crush on Peter. It was damn well worth it.

“Okay well, this Peter kid, who I don’t know,” He’d put an unnecessary emphasis on ‘don’t’, “is probably super hot, like, he sounds hot, you know, like, he, the way, he just, hot, you know, he’s gotta be at least a little?”

Again, you tried desperately not to laugh, as hard as it was, “No. No.” You shook your head, stepping closer to him, “Peter isn’t anywhere near as attractive as you are…. Then again, unless, you’re Peter.” You suggested with an all-knowing smirk.

“Ahaha, no-nope, just me, your friendly, neighborhood, good ol’ spider-man.” He nervously laughed out.

“If you say so…” You dragged on, hoping he’d jump in and finally come clean.

He stood his ground, agitating you a bit. You had to do it. You had to complete the mission no matter the stakes. You cringed at your future actions, but letting way to what was ultimately necessary.

“Well, since you’re not Peter, you won’t mind if I lifted your mask just a bit… and kissed you?” Bam. Just like that, he was done for.

You knew, because you two had previously talked about it, that Peter would never let you kiss someone you didn’t know first. You had always seen it as a ‘protective big brother’ type of thing, but really, it was born from any potential jealousy Peter didn’t want to ever encounter.

Hence, you leaned in. He didn’t stop you.

You lifted his mask gently. He didn’t stop you.

You lifted yourself on the balls of your feet and-

-he stopped you. Pushing a hand to your chest.

“Wa-wait. Y/N stop. I can’t let you do that.” You chuckled, causing him to become confused as to why you’d laugh at a rejection.

“I caught you.” He still didn’t catch on.

“I never told you my name.”

“Shit. Y/N. Please, do-don’t be mad at me.” He suddenly began to fear for your friendship.

“Peter I’m not mad.” You reassured him. “I just, I wish you felt like you could’ve told me. You know?”

“Yeah, I get it. I just didn’t want you to have to risk anything for knowing my secret.”

“I would’ve easily given that sacrifice… for you Peter.” You smiled tenderly as Peter lifted off his mask.

There he is. The boy you knew and loved, under that intimidating mask and you felt differently about.

“Sorry for trying to kiss you, I just did it because I knew you wouldn’t want me to kiss any guy I didn’t really know.” You looked down, a blush creeping its way onto your cheeks.

“It’s fine,” You met his eyes, “and, I didn’t stop you because of that.” It was now your turn to be confused by his statement.

“I-I wanted the first time we kissed, and yes, I kind of hoped it would eventually happen, but, I wanted it to be me, Peter Parker, to be able to say that they kissed you. Not some superhero who could take all the credit.”

And with that, all your fears, all your anxiety, all the hiding your feelings towards Peter all were simply swept away by the passing, quiet friend that was the new york breeze.

But you as well, were pushed in a way by that breeze, but not away from yourself or from Peter. But rather, drawing you in, into a gentle kiss.

And all the world, too, was swept away, by that knowing friend you called the breeze.

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lillaxtrigger · 5 years

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Faded land: Chapter 15

The waning moon shines down upon the city of Niagara, piercing through a rising pillar of smoke. It’s lunar glow mixes with that of the flames burning along the power plants fresh, smoldering remains. These flames are soon extinguished; onlookers of the disasters aftermath watching as the Canadian forces work to put out the fires While some tempt to quell the blazing wreckage, others tend to the rubble that once made up the plant; moving the heavy chunks of steel and concrete with but their armored hands. Cleanup efforts fail to stop at just picking up rubble however, as the countless corpses that are uncovered from the wreck are swept up all the same. Occasionally, the crew digs up a survivor buried under the mess of metal and stone; the soldiers acting accordingly and quickly rescues and tends to those severely injured.

One of the employees sits along the side wrapped in the weighted comfort of a trauma blanket; his leg refusing to cease trembling within his quaking boots. Standing in front of him be one of the soldiers that tended to his recovery; the worker recounting the attack for the trooper. “It...It all just started like every other day. Wake up, had breakfast, went to work, had lunch. Same deal as usual. I was talking to my friend about something. Bout finding some kind of mutant while walking home last night. Before another word could come out of his mouth, we hear the back door getting kicked down. That’s when this punk looking girl came bursting in with a bunch of masked people with guns and weird purple boxes and started gunning down the others. I don’t think I’ll ever forget the face Marty wore as led pierced through his brains. The dread in his eyes burned into my mind.

Seeing all that was more than enough of a warning to high tail it outta there; my legs carrying me faster than they ever have. Sprinting through those halls, I screamed at the top of my lungs trying to warn as many people as I could about the terrorists as gunfire echoed behind me. Not really sure what got people running more to be honest. Once everybody got themselves scrambling through the halls, I dashed towards wherever I could hide my sorry ass; the supply closet. Hiding among the noxious scent of the cleaning supplies, all that I could hear through the other side of the door was the echoes of firearms and the screams of my coworkers. Occasionally, I could hear the door before me rapidly pound; almost hard enough to straight up break through. Couldn’t hear anything beyond all the chaos, so it was hard to tell whether it was one of my coworkers wanting in, or one of the terrorists. Makes me ashamed to admit that I was too scared to open it either way. Eventually, all the noise just died down; no screams, no bullets, no pounding, not a sound. Made me think the storm finally pass. If only I knew what would come next.

Just when I was about to reach for the door, an overwhelming boom shook the whole place. The shelves of supplies fell right on top of me, just piling all on my back. Pretty soon, the entire roof saw it best to join in the fun and crumbled right on the whole. At time, I thought all of it was a death sentence; trapped within a tomb of cabinets and Clorox. Might as well been a blessing in disguise. All that junk piled on me wound up saving my skin from the explosion outside. I spent what seems like hours stuck under it all, feeling all of its overwhelming on my back. Thought if the pressure snapping my spine wouldn’t kill me, the heavy cleaning chemicals would. Lucky you guys dug me out when you did.”

Finished telling his spiel, the rescued employee lets escape from his lungs a heavy sigh. “Didn’t even to try to do a damn thing to help anybody or stop those terrorists. Thinking about the sound of that pounding door...Still eats me up inside. Can’t help but wonder if it was really someone wanting to hide from the horrors going on outside. Make me think of myself as nothing more than a worthless coward.”

“Quit beating yourself up.” The worker look up towards the Canadian, watching as the soldier detaches the helmet from the suit; bits of concealed air escaping from the bottom. The soldier’s head exposed to the open air, her naked eyes gaze down upon the traumatized survivor. “You were just some panicking rando who wound up getting caught in the madness. Most people like you can’t really make hard decisions like that in the middle of chaos.” Though the soldiers reassurance reaches the rescued employee, it does little to quell the guilt he clearly held. Hoping to reel him out of his depression, the soldier lowers herself to the moping employee, kneeling to down to his level. The worker feels the steel grip of her gauntlets as the Canadian softly grasps his shoulders. “Don’t worry. You living through this will more than help us. We’ve been tempting to thwart these bastards for more than a year now, and every witness that lives through their attacks gives us one step closer to bringing these terrorists to justice.” Hearing this eases the workers worries a bit, a little breath leaving the employees lungs. “You don’t have to answer now. But we need you to tell us about anything distinct about these terrorists. A particular article of clothing, a certain pair of shoes, any visible scars, anything you can think of to tell who they might be. Just let us know, okay?” Having said that, the soldier readies to give the worker time to recover, but halts in her departure when she hears him mention: “Actually, there was someone with them that stood out to me.” The Canadian turns back towards the rescued employee, hearing him continue with: “One of the masked attackers was wearing the weirdest thing. It was some kind of rough looking...Lab coat. Makes me wonder just what kind of sickos those terrorists have working for them.”

Underneath the concrete of the city, Clara sat between the bands of her teammates; who revel and celebrate their successful attack with a gloriously loud feast. Though laughter and merriment surrounded her alongside the sound of chewing food and gargling alcohol, the scientist does nothing but simply stare down upon her hearty meal; reflecting on the act of terrorism she just participated in. The screams of panic, the gazes of dread, the cries of terror; the despair of the employees that were gunned down still fresh in her psyche. What she thought to be a humble resistance group determined to free the American people from the Canadian authority turned out to be a vengeful terrorist cell soaked in the blood of the innocent.

Clara’s eyes venture all throughout the massive table of terrorists, watching as they eat and drink the rest of the night away without a single hint of remorse or regrets. None of them care about all the people they’ve slaughtered, all the lives they’ve taken away, all the hopes, dreams, and families that they’ve carelessly shattered. All that matters to them is the fierce flames of revenge.

Just when she thought that these people held not a bit of sympathy within them, her gaze comes across a pair of members balling their eyes out across the table. Curious of what they have to say, the scientist guides her ear towards the duo, her hearing piercing through the merriment around her. “...feel so bad about them man. It’s been eating me up right in my gullet. I don’t think I can take it.” “I know. I Know. I’m sorry for them too. But there’s nothing we could have done for them.” “I’m just can’t stop seeing the faces they made when they got shot. The blood spurting from their bodies… Can keep a girl up at night.” Huh, maybe a few of these guys aren’t as heartless as initially thought. Maybe a sliver of humanity may hide within the crevices of this terrorist cell after all. “We just gotta keep em in our hearts Jenna. Those two bastards would have wanted it that way.” Wait...Just two? “Yeah. Look on the bright side. At least Ben and Marky got to knock of a couple heads before theirs got knocked. Should’ve seen them frolicking with their gun, shooting up all those Canadians and traitors. Least they had some fun before they bit the dust.” And just like that, her hopes of these assholes having any pity for the innocent is completely shattered. Should’ve figured as much.

Suddenly, the scientist felt the leathery hold of a wayward grip on the back of her shoulder; turning on a dime to find the Dandy right behind her. “Whoa-oh! Easy there lab coat. It’s just me.” Upon site of the Mysterious overcoat, the scientist lets out a ragged breath; adding to her relief with: “Sorry.” “Are you feeling alright? You seem kinda jumpy tonight.” her host asks. “Yeah, something like that. Just didn’t think that the mission would involve so much, uh...” Clara hesitates, wishing not to disclose the regret of her moral mistake. “Stop! Don’t say another word. I know exactly what your going through.” “You...You do?” “Yeah. You still feeling shaken about all the action today. Not used to the fray being that intense, are ya?” “Hnn...” Not really the most accurate statement, but best to just roll with it. “-nnnYeah! Yeah. Didn’t really think I make it outta there on one piece to be honest.” She then hears the Dandy groan aloud, confirming that he: “Knew it. Listen. I am beyond sorry. Should have never set you up on a bombing run on the first day. Wanted to build it up. Lobbed some softball at you before pitching the big league baseball. But wouldn’t you know it. It was the only job available on such short notice. And I knew I needed to get you something under your belt so everybody here wouldn’t try to screw you over.” “Pardon?” “And hey, not only things worked out in the end, you proved to be quite the crafty asset. Heard from Shoa how you took down a Canadian guard with just your brains and couple bullets. Keep up doing stuff like that and you see herself across the border in less than two weeks.” Promising that, the Dandy gives Clara a pat on the shoulder and leaves Clara just as conflicted as they met, perhaps even more so. Without further interruption, the scientist stares back into the meat of her meal; left to ponder with path to take upon metaphorical forked path of life.

Yeah, it be absolutely wonderful to cross into Canada in such a short time, save a ton of time looking where they might have took Arthur. Still, don’t think he’d take to kindly crossing the corpses of countless innocent people to find him. Plus, who knows how many of these missions she can take before she winds up joining them. Fantastic hosts that these guys have been, it might be best to take her leave from their ranks as smoothly and stealthily as she can. Don’t want these maniac to suddenly second guess her and gun her down on the spot.

Hours pass until the passion of the party trickles down to a halt, the safe haven of the sewers are soon shrouded on a vial of darkness. Not a single sound dared echoed through the quiet hours of the resistance base, all but the near silent footsteps of the scientist. Masking her presence among the darkness, Clara glides along the makeshift buildings and shacks that make up their dwellings. Though her stealthy ventures don’t prove to be a breeze, finding some lights cutting through the darkness from the diner; the luminescence stretching across the base. Doesn’t seem like there’s any way through them. Gonna need to crawl right under it all.

This in mind, she lowers herself down onto the grimy concrete floor and begins her crawl across the base of the diner. Creeping below the illuminating windows, her ears catch the noise of clacking dishes and sweeping scrapes of the broom; the sound of idle chatter blending into the muffled echoes. Her sneaking endeavors soon come towards an obvious blockade: the front doors, its glass letting flow forth a stream of light. Near the glow of the door, the scientist takes in a deep breath, understanding that she’ll need to pull this off as smoothly as possible. After letting loose that same breath; she dives straight through the row of luminescence; the guy cleaning the counter taking obvious notice of her sudden bolt through.

Hoping right over the counter of patched up marble and stone, he swiftly open the glass doors of the diner; taking a glance outside to see whatever darted across the door. “Whatcha doing Billy?” someone inside asks. “Thought...Thought I saw something go across the door.”. “Probably was just a rat or something. Hey, come and help me out here. Trying to scrape off a piece of food I found underneath this seat. Kinda looks like its moving.” Hearing his partners plea, he shrugs off the site and retreats back inside; unaware of the scientist he saw ducking along the side of the diner. Having snuck past the prying eyes of the diner, Clara continues forth in her escape.

Her stealthy ventures soon take her towards the corridor leading to the subway; the cooling midnight winds bellowing through the tunnels. Deciding between the enormous open train tunnels and the cramped dank sewers is a choice that even the most ineptly moronic could correctly decide. Ain’t no way in hell that she’s risking going through that trap infested hellhole again. Not really sure what’d kill her in there faster, the traps or the ungodly stench of cadavers drifting through the urine and feces.

Peeking behind the hall leading to the subways however, she soon realizes that she might not have as much of an option as she thought. Gazing ahead, she finds along both sides a couple of armed guards, their flashlights shining down the darkness of the tunnel. Guess it shouldn’t be much of a surprise they’d set up some sentries through here. The wide open space of the subway don’t lend themselves well towards setting up roadblocks. Having guards at the ready is practically the only measure of security you could set up. Probably not a wise idea to just waltz over to them and say: “Hey, just going out for a little bit, catch y’all later bitches.” without a feeding them a half decent excuse either. Unfortunately, what the scientist boasts in intellectual prowess, she lacks in social deception. Traveling miles on end though the nuclear wastes hasn’t exactly given her any opportunity to build her charismatic abilities. She couldn’t think of a good lie for them to scarf down even if she had all night.

With the safe option out, the only one left standing be risking her life in the dank tunnels of the Niagara sewers. Not the most elegant form of escape she could take, but situations like this don’t look down kindly to the elegant, they look down upon the scrappy. Let’s just get this over with.

As Clara readies herself to descending into the rank horrors of the sewers, the echoes of her fellow resistance members reaches her ears. “They definitely came from over there.” Hearing their approach, she wastes not another moment to dart into the darkness of the tunnels. “Just now! Someone ran in the sewers! Come on!”

Bolting through the concrete corridors, the scientist hears the voices behind her growing softer. Once far enough from her pursuers, she turns right upon the cross tunnels and darts behind the oncoming corner. Peeking out from behind the brickwork, the scientist witnesses several of the resistance members halting at the intersection; some of them wielding firearms. “Dammit! Dammit! Dammit! How’d they even find us!?” one of them curses. “You sure you saw somebody run down here? Might have just been a raccoon.” another questions. “Naw, naw. I saw it too. Shadow was definitely too big to be some mangy raccoon.” another clarifies. “Rrnng. Whoever this guy is, they ain’t getting outta here alive. Everyone split up!” Upon that command does the entire squad scatter; a pair of them sprinting in Clara’s direction. The scientist herself frantically wonders how to elude her approaching former teammates, looking ahead to find the tunnel too long to escape from their site. Gotta find someplace to hide.

The duo soon turn onto the corner, racing through the clear concrete pathway. Suddenly, one of them halts in their tracks; his partner slowing down and turning to find him looking back. “What you slow down for? See something?” Her partner stays silent, steadily returning to the other side of the tunnel with the barrel of his gun aimed down the corridor. Upon reaching the other side does the sound of splashing reach his ears; the gunmen swiftly turning back to find the waters beside him rippling. “You see that?” the gun asks. “No. What was it?” his partner wonders. Approaching the river of sewage, he looks into the waters sickly green color; the murky waters giving him very little hint what could be lurking underneath. Though still curious of what could be hiding beneath, he flips the butt of his gun towards the river. “Uh...What are you doing?” his partner cautiously questions. “Don’t wanna waste the ammo checking what could be down there.” Slowly, he begins to dip the back end of his assault rifle down into the stream; the grimy waters rippling as his firearms dive deeper down.

After poking his gun around in the mix of piss and poop, the butt of his firearms is caught in the steel jaws of one of the rivers traps; the pair of rusty teeth tempting to pull the guy into the depths of the river. “Shit!” The man attempts to pull his rifle away from the underwater traps strong draw, his boots scrapping against the concrete underneath his feet. Seeing her partner being pulled towards the deadly trap infested river; she quickly comes to the poor bastards aid; hugging onto his midsection and helping him pull. “Let...go of your gun, you jackass!” “Never!” The guy refusing to let go of his precious firearms, the opposing pull eventually splits the rifle in half; the sudden snap causing the duo to careening into the brick wall.

The two terrorists rise from their blunder; the gun looking upon his weapon to find it snapped in two. Though not a word comes from his mouth on the matter, his partner on the other hand can’t help but add insult to injury with: “Well, guess you wound up wasting more then just a few bullets there, huh.” Hearing this, the former guns face deflates further down to a scowling brood; throwing what’s left of his weapon into the sewers stream. “Lets just keep moving...” he insist.

After that whole fuck up of aquatic endeavors; the two turn the corner in a dripping mess; neither of them aware that the scientist that they seek hanged above them the whole time. Letting go of the piping that she suspended herself on, Clara drops out from the shadows of the corner. As soon as she lands, she starts to check the contents of her bag; counting the number of canned goods she has left. Kind of a huge waste to just throw one of them away like that, especially with how little chances she gets to restock her rations. Still, had to sacrifice something to throw off those maniacs off; wouldn’t exactly be a smart idea for it to be a piece of her equipment, like her compass or can opener. Hope it was at least something disgusting, like those beans or that can of chowder. Shifting through her rations, she unfortunately finds both of them accounted for; noticing one that she had been look forward to tasting missing from the bunch. The can full of deliciously juicy pears, a loss that deeply disappoints the scientist; their sweet flavor forsaken to the trap infested waters of the sewers. Truly, a loss non more tragic among canned goods.

She soon moves on from her shattered hopes of sugary fruit and closes her backpack; glancing down in her sulk to notice the large drips of water trailing around the corner. Jeez. How wet did that asshole get to leave behind puddles this big in his wake. Probably gotten at least 5 liters of disgusting sewer water all over him. Didn’t even take the time to rinse himself off. Bet he reeks of rotting fecal matter and old dry urine by now. Still, kind of lucky that he flippantly disregarded his own hygiene like that; as the water droplet he left behind make the perfect trail for the scientist to follow. This in mind, Clara hesitates not another moment to pursue her pursuers.

Following the drops of grimy water along the brickwork tunnels, the trail of rank sewage leads her safely weaving through the maze. Sure, on the surface, it seems pretty idiotic. Chasing down the guys that wanna gun you down with nothing to fight back against. But when realizing that these guys likely know the twist and turns of these sewers better than an obese loner familiar with the bottom of a chicken bucket, it becomes all the more clear why trailing these guys through these tunnels of horrible death and unruly odor is a better idea than it sounds. No doubt that the risk of stalking these dangerous terrorist might lead her to the way out of this death trap filled horror show.

Though hoping this, the scientist pursuit suddenly comes on an unexpected close. Halting upon the turn of the corner, Clara comes face to face with the resistance members bleeding bodies; both of them having impaled onto a spring loaded spike trap. Witnessing the duo that tempted to search for her fall to the machinations of their mazes own workings urges the scientist to slowly back away. Perhaps these guys aren’t as familiar with the layout of their own maze as she had figured. The pairs corpses making this fact more than clear, she books it back through the safe route that they led her down.

In the midst of her retreat, Clara turn the corner to find a few of the armed resistance members with their backs turned. Instantly, she dart back behind the corner before they have the chance to turn around; not halting a single moment in her sprint away. “I saw something!” she hears one of them scream. Racing away from the pack, the scientist hears the cluster of their footstep from behind; risking every corner she can to evade their line of site. Knowing that taking one of the safe routes would guarantee her being cornered, she finds it best to gamble going down one of the other routes.

As she flees from her firearm toting foes; Clara feels the light tug of a tripwire at her angle and instantly stops. In front of her springs forth a spike covered board of wood; its blood soaked nails stopping just mere centimeters from Clara’s face. Though taking a short breath, the scientist isn’t allowed a moment to relax; hearing the steps of her pursuers close in.

The squad soon turn the corner; their firearms aimed and ready for whoever may be around the tunnel. However, their site beheld nothing but the spring loaded spike trap before them. “Wha-I...I swear someone turned here! I saw them!” one of them claims. “Dammit Windslow! Get some fucking glasses! You’re winding up leading us to our early graves!” “Come on. They couldn’t have gotten far.” With this, all f them set off in the other direction to look for their prey; unaware that who they were gunning for hid right in front of them the whole time. Once the coast was clear, the scientist jumps out from behind the nail covered board of wood; peeking around the corner to see the squad scampering away. Though she saw first hand the ignorance of her pursuers first hand, it would be smart to observe if some of these terrorist fair better in intelligence more than others and lead her toward the freedom she seeks. If nothing else, their cadavers can serve as warnings.

Just as before, the scientist darts of towards those that chased her before in an act of strategic irony; carefully tailing the resistance members in the safety of the sewers dark corners. The squad leads Clara safely all around the brick tunnels, swerving through corner after corner; weaving left and right. She peeks behind every corner she sees then turn and waits for them to turn before resuming her pursuit.

Soon her trailing comes to an abrupt snag, seeing a set of growing shadows on the approach. Figuring them to be the searchers that she had been tailing; Clara quickly turns the opposite way and bolts outta there. Fleeing from the pack of terrorists, the scientist hears one of them mention: “I definitely saw somebody this time, I know it!”

Hoping to shake off these gun wielding maniacs, the scientist start to randomly turn at every corner she comes across, regardless be them clear of traps or not. This attitude eventually lands her into trouble, when she feels the faint tug of another tripwire snapping upon her chest. A trap that she more than predicted, as she stops completely in her tracks; waiting in anticipation at whatever makeshift contraption from the twisted minds of these terrorists would pop out next. And as such, the scientist sees a pair of uzi’s drop down from the sewers ceiling; a pretty obvious sign for her to get down. Right before they begin to unload their clips, Clara hits the deck, ducking right underneath the storm of led. Though the barrage of bullets continue, the scientist knows there no time to wait for the storm to pass and crawls right underneath the hanging automatic guns.

Moving on from that bullet spewing trap, Clara continues her race through the sewers. No doubt that everyone in these tunnels heard that storm of led fire off; their echo’s surely drawing the whole terrorist cell to her as she sprints. A fact that shows true, as the scientist sees a shadow coming along the upcoming corner; prompting her to make a swift U-turn. Though tempting to scamper back where she came, Clara finds another cluster of shadows threatening to emerge from the other direction. Pinched between the pavement pathway, the scientist frantically looks around for whatever escape she could take before the pair of resistance groups wedge her on their approach. There ain’t no way in hell she’s taking her chances with the river at her side. Never mind the ungodly stench irradiating from those waters; who knows what kind of horribly constructed machinations of maniacal madmen may lurk underneath the surface. Not even the shadowy corners of the tunnel could conceal her; the spaces of darkness far too small to camouflage her whole body. Her whole situation seemed utterly hopeless; not one place she could find cover among the approaching terrorist forces. Taking a glance towards the roof of the tunnel, however, a small smile stretches across her face. Finally.

Coming together in the middle of the brick tunnel, the pair of packs find nothing but themselves among their sites. “Huh? The hell are you guys doing?” one of them from the left asks. “Though we saw something come this way. You?” another responds from the opposing side. “Heard one of the uzi traps go off and came rushing to see what it caught. Wound up being nothing but a waste of led.” “Think we might have just been chasing each other this whole time?” “Dammit! Knew it was a bad idea splitting up. Wound up wasting time and men just tailing our own asses!” “Come on. We have better luck staying alive in this shit hole if we stick together.”

Having said that, the two resistance group form into one and shove off deeper into the depths of their own stank ass maze. Though their ignorant proves their downfall once more; the woman that they had been seeking be right above their head, quietly hanging onto the ladder above. Once she was certain that her pursuers were out of earshot, Clara looks overhead; her escape from these nightmarish underground sewage lines right above her head. Wasting not another moment within its filth driven air; the scientist eagerly climbs up towards the manhole.

Peeking out from the depths of the underground, her eyes beheld the welcoming site of the moonlit surface of the city. From beyond the manhole, she found herself within a mildly populated area of Niagara; seeing the legs of the occasional passerby walk along the street. A situation that proves all the more troublesome for the scientist; knowing how bizarre a site it be for some random woman to crawl out from the sewers. No doubt seeing such a scene play out in the dead of night would make anybody crap themselves and scramble for the authorities. A scenario that Clara knows would certainly play out if she was in their shoes. Still, can’t just wait all night for the streets to clear out; someone from below could spot her lab coated ass any moment and fill her behind full of led. Gotta bide time just long enough for when nobody’s lookin.

A plan that sends the scientist in an anxious sweat, the potential risk of mistiming her escape all too clear. Threading the eye of this needle proves to be quite the taxing, the tense air thickening every moment she spent under that iron manhole. Soon though, the chance to surface from the sewers comes; not one pair of eyes aimed her way. With not a soul peeking in her direction, she swiftly rises out from the manhole; carefully sliding the cover back on. Once out from the underground, she breathes in a hearty dose of the surface air; liberated from the sewers ungodly odor of pissed soaked cadavers and crap covered waters. Such a welcomed relief to take in the scent of the urban jungle once more. Finished basking in the fresh air of the surface, the scientist scuttles off into the depths of the city.

Further and further she flees from the manhole that she popped out of, putting as much distance as she can from those underground maniacs as possible. Clara soon takes cover within the darkness of a nearby alley; glancing back to see if any of those freaks followed her. Luckily, she saw not a single sign of the resistance that pursued her. Pretty safe bet to think that they wouldn’t risk coming up here and exposing their rank behinds to the public eye. Knowing this, her nerves finally start to unwind; causally strolling into the street as she ponders upon her next move.

Obviously, the underground proved more than enough to not be a viably safe option anymore; shame too. If there was any truth to their words, then that secret entrance across the border would have been wonders to cross. Might have to stunk to high hell and back, but at least there wasn’t the looming threat of lasers to worry about. Only the potential risk of contracting some kind of abomination of biology that most doctors would prescribe as a disease. Something that modern medicine couldn’t dream of fighting against.

Haven’t even come across a single hint of Angelo anywhere in this city either. Still can’t fathom what urged the bear spider to up and leave the way she did. Shame too, could have easily got into the land of maple leaves one way or another with her at her side.

Her mind then wonders back to that bridge that she’d spotted while strolling through the park. It probably wouldn’t hurt to observe how these Canadians handle immigration control. Perhaps it might not be as bad as the countless horror stories she’s heard made them out to be.

Breaking from her brainstorming session, she soon realizes the street goers around her glaring oddly at the scientist as they pass by. From glances of fear to scorns of rage, it seemed that the entire street was itching to turn on her at any moment; catching the fret of the city’s citizens within her ears. “Is that really her?” “Yeah, she was definitely with them.” “Oh god, what’s she doing here!?” “Do the guards know she’s here?” Hearing all this coming from the crowd urges Clara to hurry in her urban trek; fearing that her mere presence may draw some unwanted attention. An eventuality that soon comes to pass, as she looks to her back to find a pair of the Canadian troop right on her tail; pushing right through the crowded streets with their rifles at the ready. And just when Clara thought she crossed the finish line in her deadly marathon too.

Swimming through the bustling streets of the city in her attempt to abscond from the pursuing soldiers, the scientist squeezes herself through the thick stream of people. Tempting as it is to take her chase to the open roads, she find it best to gamble on these Canadians moral grounds; betting that they wouldn’t dare fire a signal round of plasma near any of the nearby pedestrians. Seeing if her theory held any ground, she takes a glance back towards the troops; finding one of them aiming the barrel of their weapon in her direction. Just when Clara thought that her little moral test would be spurned; the other soldier shoves their partners weapon aside, shaking their head and pointing towards the crowd frightened gazes. Their cowering stares prompts the maple trooper to lower his firearms, instead the armored duo opting to pick up the pace on their pursuit.

Though relieved that her little plan worked; it shows itself to be but a waning strategy; the crowd beginning to move away from the scientist in her escape. With the mob around dispersing, she knows that the troops behind her would soon have a clear shot. Best find a way to distract them and find a place to hide before her cranium winds up with a freshly burnt hole. To that end, she looks towards the nearest civilian and reaches out towards their side. Hate to do this to just any rando out and taking a calm, nightly stroll, but you gotta take any avenue you can to escape. Clara grabs hold of the citizens arm and shoves them towards her pursuers; the mounties stumbling back upon the civil intrusion. Seeing her diversion effectively obstruct her foes; she sprints off towards the nearest corner and away from the soldiers site.

After helping the shoved citizen up, the Canadian troops continue their hunt; the concrete path before them devoid of any civil hindrance. Coming around the corner, the two pass a shadowy alleyway; one halts upon its entrance while the other continues through the streets. Staring down into the alleys seemingly endless darkness, the soldier spots a hint of white heading deeper down.

The armored trooper decides to investigate, prowling deeper into the urban sleeves depths. With the fuchsia glow of his armor piercing through the veil of darkness, the Canadian soldier carefully inches through the alleyway with their rifle aimed ahead. Coming towards a corner, the trooper puts their back against the fresh brick wall; charging their firearms for what that piece of scum has planned. The Canadian then jumps out from beyond the wall with their rifle primed and ready down the dead end, though with their light shining down upon nothing but overflowing garbage cans and rusty dumpsters. The rats and raccoon scurrying past as the trooper approaches the collection of trash; the glow of their armor reflecting against the tin and iron of the trash cans and fire escape.

The armor directs their gaze towards the collection of cans; an obvious hiding place for the scum of the city to dwell. Might risk letting the fugitive slip away if they checked one at a time, best just get them all at once. Thinking this, the trooper aims the barrel of their laser rifle down upon the cluster of cans; firing a barrage of beams down the dead end. The rounds of plasma pierce right through the dumpsters iron, the assault leaving the container resembling a block of Swiss cheese. Through this bombardment does the soldier finally hit their mark; scarlet leaking out from one of the tin cans. Halting their gunfire, the trooper nears the bleeding can and uncovers to find a hand sticking out among the bags. Digging through the garbage, the soldier soon uncovers the corpse of a man; its decayed skin suggesting that it long since died. Though the question arising of what sicko would shove a dead body in the garbage; the cadaver before him clearly isn’t the woman that they’re looking for.

Their search coming to a literal dead end, the trooper begins to depart from the collection of shot up cans, the sharp clang of crashing metal stopping the soldier in their tracks. Swiftly turning back, the barrel of his rifle aims down the remains of a rusty fire escape; the ladder split in half among the wreckage. Gazing up, they found not a single sign of life to be had; just the loose metal hinges that once suspended the escape. Probably just a case of corrosion and decay. Hope the restoration team reach that building soon.

The soldier soon starts to retreat from the alley, unaware of their target being right above their heads. Watching atop the roof as the trooper departs, Clara slumps over as she lets out a heavy sigh. Lucky that the same strategy has been working all night, though its recent execution could’ve held a lot less risk. Despite her escape from the armored authorities, this does little to ease her trouble mind; with a couple questions starting to surface. How did those people recognize her? What urged the locals to give the scientist such scornful glares, causing enough of an upset to get the cops involved? Were their any witnesses that survived power plant bombing?

Breaking her out from her thoughts do the echoes of a nearby conversation bait her attention; Clara glancing down the opposite end of the roof to find several of the citizens discussing her appearance. “You sure it was her?” “I’m positive it was one of them. Not a doubt about it.” “One of the survivors said that one of the terrorists wore a dirty lab coat.” “Who else in this city walks around wearing a dirty ass white coat?” “Saw the Canadian cops chasing her down a streets a couple minutes ago.” “Dude, screw those guys! If I ever come across her, I’m gonna skip calling them and just beat that bitch senseless!” “Make all of those terrorists pay for killing all those poor people!”

Upon mention of her beloved lab coat does she look to the article of clothing in question; noting its worn and torn silk stained with the dirt, blood, and sweat of the wastelands. Guess this ragged old thing doesn’t bode well with camouflaging her within the urban jungle, don’t it? Ain’t exactly gonna blend in with something as distinguishable as this. No use denying the obvious, gonna have to ditch it. A real shame to. This coat’s been with her since the beginning of this whole mess, one of the few reminiscence of her life that she had carried over from her past. Its helped her sleep during those long cold nights in the waste, shielded her olive skin from the beating skin during those endless treks. Gonna be kind of hard to part with it after all this time. Feels like cutting off a part of herself. Still, if it helps her get closer to Arthur, closer to undoing all the horrors that she’s seen, then she’ll be more than willing to part with it.

With this in mind, she digs into the contents of her coat pockets, just to be on the safe side. Don’t wanna wind up kicking herself in the shins for ditching anything important. A lucky precaution that she took, as she pulls out the picture of her and Arthur from depths of her lab coat pocket. Gazing upon Arthur's enthusiastic smile in the photo makes her eyes wonder towards the giant wall bordering the country in the distance.; her mind wondering what fate might have befell him on the other side of its steel.

Placing the picture in her backpack, she slips the silk of her lab coat right off, revealing her undershirt to the open night air. Gazing down upon her coat, her eyes wonder towards a nearby shadow, following the darkness to find a tall antenna set onto the rooftop; its lanky steel casting forth a long string of darkness along the roof.

Standing along the edge of the rooftop, she takes one last look at her coat tide to the antenna. With nothing else left on the matter, she jumps away from the white silk as it flows in the wind; leaving a crucial piece of her past behind.

Among the musty shadows of a nearby alleyway, a door set along the side opens wide; the light from the inside illuminating the darkness. Out from the inside ambles out a hooded man dragging behind him a ridiculously heavy garbage bag; its heavy duty plastic scrapping against the concrete. “Stupid parents, making me throw out the trash... Don’t help how they have the can across the house...Filling it up all the way with heavy shit...” It takes the guy a couple seconds to hoist the bag onto his shoulder, audibly grunting as he lifts the heavy load. Once above himself, the hood lobs the bag over with all his might, hurling the garbage towards the dumpster; though landing right on its iron edge. Witnessing the bag teeter between the dumpsters side; the guy simply just shrugs off the matter with a: “Whatever. Pick ups problem now...”

Apathetic about where his waste landed, the hooded dude starts to head back inside, but halts in his tracks upon hearing the sound of nearby footsteps. From his pants, the guys pulls out a switchblade; gazing ahead to find nothing but the light pouring out from the door. “Someone here? Warning ya, ain’t no pussy.” After his warning, his ears pick up the faint taps of footsteps at his back; swiftly turning as he slashes toward whatever could be creeping up behind him. Though lashing out, the man finds not a single soul at his back. “The hell?...” Wondering what could have been behind him, the hood fails to notice a figure creeping right behind him; lifting above the hood before her a hefty brick. A single strike to his head is all it takes for the figure to knock the guy out cold, the hood flopping down onto the concrete. Gazing down upon the guys unconscious body, his attackers eyes trail from his hood towards his pocket knife laying at his side.

Some time later, a woman steps out from the building; her shadow engulfing the opposing wall. “Henry! What is taking you so long out here?” Upon his name does the man in question rise from the pavement; a painful groan escaping from his lips. “Agh...My head...” Rubbing the back of his head; the guy steps into the light; the woman letting out a sudden yelp upon laying eyes on him. “Jesus! What happened to your cloth!?” she questions. Upon the woman’s question does the guy take a look at himself; finding her claim to be on point. Aside from his undergarment, the poor bastard found himself nearly in the nude; stripped down from head to toe. This discover makes the man jump, letting out a similar scream. “Ahhg! W-what happened to my cloths!?” “Just get inside!” the woman demands. Hearing this does the guy eagerly comply; shutting the door behind him as they both rush back inside.

Neither of them notice the scientist that assaulted him hiding within the alleys vial of darkness; cloaked in the very hood that she had pilfered from his unconscious body. Heading out if the alleyway, Clara stashes her freshly picked pocket knife into her pants pocket, adjusting her pack to her newly acquired garbs. More of a loose fit than she thought, but a hood this bland should be perfect for concealing her from the unwanted eyes of the armored mounties in the streets. Emerging out from the darkness, the hooded scientist blends into the midnight crowd.

Venturing through the city, she studies the passing people at her sides, finding not a single one alarmed by her very presence. Seems that this piece of fleece passes the pedestrian test. Doesn’t seem not a soul around is pissing themselves. But soon, the scientist true experiment arises, a pair of Canadian troops on the approach. Clara merges with the parting crowd before them, hoping that her disguise would fool the trained troopers. The scientist keeps her breath held as the pair of armors pass her; watching as they stare straight ahead without so much as a passing glance. As soon as the authorities were out of site, Clara lets loose a heavy sigh; relieved that her hood has fooled even the elite of eyes. Guys were literally right next to her and they didn’t even bother peeking. Realizing how effective her simple disguise was against the prying eyes, the scientist continues through the streets with a little ease of mind.

Thanks to the mundane facade that her new hood granted her with, the rest of her midnight stroll through Niagara stays safely tame; her venture through the city streets eventually taking her toward the bridge set through the borders. Though with the bridge in plain site, one more obstruction dares to stand between the scientist and the land of leaves and maple. Before her stood a wide building with overhead letters reading: “Canadian registry”.

Kind of shocking that these maple leaved megalomaniacs would even have a registry at all. Course, it shouldn’t be that much of a surprise. If they actually bothered to install a bridge between the country, then of course they’d have the most basic of immigration security. But basic might be kind of a stretch, the building being nearly half the size as a parking lot. Ain’t no way someone sneaking around all that without getting shot by the mounties.

Though the registry’s sheer width pales in comparison to the size of the line beside it. The row of people leading in stretching beyond the entire block, all leading straight into the buildings side. Set along the opposing side be another set of doors; a steady stream of people flowing out from the inside. Upon their faces be a range of upset expressions; all differing from disheartening to depressing, from sadness to fury. Seemed like a whole spectrum of negative emotions was spilling out from within, none of which held any kind of promise.

Wondering about the stream of disappointment, Clara opts to take a peek of the registration process; curious to know how the land of the north deals with immigration control. A glance through the window shows the scientist a steady stream of Americans marching through the egregiously long line, all leading towards a counter smack dab in the middle of the room. From their, she witnessed someone handing the receptionist a sort of card, which the man behind the counter inspects and scan. Probably some kind of ID or passport that they check. Standard stuff really. After the card is scanned, Clara sees the man handing it back and points the women towards the back of the room; noticing the woman sporting an overjoyed smile as she proceeds. Unfortunately, the next guy doesn’t bode as lucky though; as right after inspecting his ID, is sent straight towards the exit.

Guess their won’t be a chance in hell of passing through this place without one of those card. Could always just steal one like she did her hood, but weather it’d be a viable one would be pretty much a one shot gamble. If she showed up again with an entirely different card, it’d likely raise of eyebrows. Perhaps simply forging one would yield swifter results.

Right on that thought does she hears an alarm blaring from within, glancing towards the desk to find a man at the front swept up in a panic. He attempts to make a break for the exit, but a stationed guard quickly seizes the guy before he could reach for the doors. Captured within the Canadians armored grasp, the poor guy is dragged across the room through another door; all the while his muffled pleading echoes throughout the room. He attempts to fight back against his captors, wiggling and punching against their arms. Though his resistance is swiftly quashed; the armored guard knocking the guy out cold with a heavy punch to the head. The people in line attempt to look away from the scene, others forming tears that flow from their eyes. Once the guy is dragged through the door, the receptionist rips his card in half; prompting some of those in line to head for the exit. Watching all of this unfold before her makes the scientist shove off; rethinking her plans of illegal counterfeiting.

Witnessing firsthand the brutally unapologetic immigration control on full display, she soon starts to realize that her options are running dry. There isn’t really much she can do on her own to get over that wall fast enough. There is that secret entrance that the Dandy hinted at, though it’s doubtful that she could come back without as little as an explanation. Still, after what she’s seen those guys do, ain’t no way in hell she’s crawling back to them. Maybe she could try and get one of them to spill the beans. Gonna need to work out how though.

In the midst of her thoughts, Clara takes notice of the peoples fright; their gazes aimed towards the night sky. “What the hell is that?” “I don’t know.” “Oh god, is it another attack!?” “Seems like something’s crawling up there.” Looking in their direction, she found the masses staring towards one of the bigger buildings of the city towering into the night sky. Along one of its faces, the scientist finds something big and black crawling up towards the towers roof. From where she stood, she could make out the fuzzy blotches eight legs scuttling along the building; dragging along its bloated lower body. Witnessing these features rings familiarity within her, realizing that the mass crawling up that tower be her runaway steed; Angelo.

Hard to believe the old girl’s still kicking it. Thought for sure she would have wound up getting herself caught or shot by the mounties. Though something tells the scientist that she won’t evade the Canadian authority for much longer, as the ursa arachnids public appearance will no doubt spark their attention. Gotta get to her before the maple leaved cops close in. With this in mind, she sprints down towards the decaying tower; her bear spider nearly reaching the top.

#lillaxtrigger #faded land

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