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everyhowlmarksthedead · 4 years

Text

❛ JUST ONE NIGHT ❜

Part III

with Johnny ‘Coco’ Cruz.

Warnings: angst af, not sorry.

Word count: 2k

Chapter Index.

Aurora says: this writing hasn't been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I'm sorry about that!

Gif credits: @fromthesixteenthfloor

Masterlist.

Maybe you should have accepted the invitation from Mardi, your best friend, staying at Santo Padre instead of occupying your parent's house in San Diego. But the pain was too strong to stay there, with the risk of finding Coco walking through the streets or driving his motorbike. You haven't known anything about him for the past five days, and if you've been about to call him hundreds of times, fortunately you haven't. The one who has tried to put in contact with you has been Bishop. He has called for the last two days. But, what would have solved answering the call? Probably nothing. So you just let your phone ring, having a sip from the last bottle of tequila left.

Alcohol isn't the solution, but it's enough to hush your demons, alleviate the pain and make you sleep. So you have been drowned in a bucle of drinking the mexican drink for excellence the whole day, until your body asks you to stop and the hangover hits your head with painful lashes. Since you met him, you have been dreaming about a life together, about trips, about days at home doing nothing, about helping him every time he feels down. About whatever. But he was right. You knew about club shit when you started dating. What you weren't expecting was the kind of things he told you last time you were together. You don't need Coco to be on you the whole time, but if you read your text messages, every twenty yours there's one from him just sayin ‘yeah’ and ‘no’. That's all.

He wasn't busy with his own business to see what he was doing, and you were living it. You were sleeping alone, not knowing anything about his situation. You were passing the days alone, waiting for anything, with the anxiety and the sadness oppressing anatomy, squeezing your heart without mercy. But you loved him. You kept trying to hold him, to save him somehow, until you understood that there's no salvation for someone who doesn't want to be saved.

Cleaning a wild tear, you step out from the sofa, grabbing your house keys and your credit card to get out from it. You truly look like a mess, wearing a pair of long grey sweatpant, a white long shirt and some sneakers. Your hair is tied in an undone bump, no makeup in your face, but two black marks under your eyes. Almost dragging your feet on the ground, you lead your steps to the nearest shop to buy more tequila and maybe something to eat, because you have forgotten when was the last time you had a decent meal.

“Do you know what you're gonna tell her?” Angel drives by his side and behind Bishop, Tranq and Taza, highing his voice over the engine's buzz.

“No!” He just utters under the black bandana.

It only took Miguel five minutes to find you, after checking that you didn't cross the border to Tijuana and that your parent's house in San Diego was having in use the electric and water suministers. Packer sent someone to assure that you were really there, before giving Bishop the green light. Coco has never been more nervous than today, about to reach the place, trying to not think in a speech. He wants to tell you what he really feels from heart, without planning absolutely nothing. He wants to be sincere with you and finally break down the walls around him to let you come in. The last days have been an odyssey for him, being controlled every single second by the crew to not do any crazy shit, after hearing him asking to let him die. And, of course, it's going to be worse in case you declined the idea of coming back to Santo Padre with him, giving Coco a second chance. That's what it hurts the most, the fact that he believes you're not going to open him the door or, if you do, it's going to ask him to go to hell.

Reaching the white house with a blue rooftop, the Mayans park their bikes next to the sidewalk, under the attentive, confused and scared gazes from your neighbors. Getting up from them and taking off the helmets, to leave them over the seats, Angel palms his back trying to cheer him up and give him the strength and the motivation he needs to begin walking through the paved road breaking the garden in two sides. Brushing his hair back, followed by his brothers, he takes a long breath before calling the doorbell. One time, two times… Eight times. Coco understands that you don't want to see him, huffing resigned, but when he's about to turn around and leave the porch, Angel forces him to keep trying.

“Mami… It's me, Coco”. He says biting his bottom lip and licking his incisors. No answer. “Listen, I just… 'am sorre' 'bout all the shit I made. 'Bout pushing you away, 'bout talking you with those… fuckin' manners and 'bout forgetting the most special day of my life. 'Am so fuckin' sorry”.

Nothing. Not a single sound by the other side of the door.

“Keep trying, Coco”. Gilly whispers narrowing his left shoulder.

“Yo, ah… 'am fuckin' sorre'... I know you deserve better. I know you deserve someone who lives for you, for makin' you happy, for takin' care of you, and I know I didn'. And maybe it's too late to regret but… I will keep the promise of changin', of being a better man for you. The one you deserve. Just… fuck, please… Give me a second chance”. His voice breaks as he talks, feeling the tears piling up in his eyes because he doesn't have any answer from you. “Lis—Listen. Prez gave me some time out an—”.

“Yes, I did, kid”. Bishop interrupts him for a second, trying to be helpful.

“And you know… You have told me a lot of times that… you wou—would like to go to Disney and… I was thinken' about… goin'. Together. Onle' you and me, (Y/N). We can go on my bike, or… or in your car, or… use mine… I don' care, I don' give a shit, I will carry you from Cali to Orlando walking if you ask me for”.

Coco is about to cry from one time to another, feeling Angel gently caressing his back. He, better than anyone, knows how much he loves you and how much he cares about you. And maybe his friends didn't do the correct thing with you, but he's badly trying to fix up things between you two.

“Do you… Do you know that if yo—you shout ‘Andy is comen'’ all those… idiots from Toy Story have to fall down? Jus—Just imagine us sitting on a bench… screaming it the whole time, or… following them around the park…”

The guys can't help but chuckle, because they know you two are really capable of spending a day like that. Like two children.

“And you can… put me one of these... fuckin' Mickey's ears. I promise I won't complain”. He sighs bowing his head down, with a disgusting pain getting installed inside his throat. “And… there are a lot… of things about Marvel too… and shows and… a lot of things”.

Coco is breaking into pieces being ignored by you, starting to cry like a hurt kid. He's aware he has lost the best person he could find on earth. His soulmate. His best friend. He knows that it's only his fault. He can't blame his family, nor the club. Because it was enough to sleep with you at home, instead of staying at the scrapping. It was enough texting you one time a day.

“Fu—Fuck, mami, 'am realle' sorre'... You don' have to say something now… but, I don' know… maybe in some days. Now 'am feelin' what you felt and… it's a damn shit… 'am fuckin' sorre', I swear. I never meant to… you through this”. Hardly sniffing and barely breathing, he cleans the tears running down his face. “I will… stay around, in a hotel… if you wanna call me, or… maybe see me to talk alone… I don' know… whatever you want… Or, if you want me to go… ju—just tell me and I will… leave you in peace”.

“Let's go, Coco…”Taza says, placing a hand on his nape.

“No, no… What if I ju—just wait here, till she opens me the door?”

“It's better if you give her some time to think about it”. Bishop shakes his head for a second.

“Yeah, but… what if I ju—I just stay here? Maybe she… doesn't want to talk 'bout us because you're here”. He insists, but Angel is not going to let him do that, surrounding his shoulders with an arm.

“She will call you, hermano. You will see, ah? Seein' you on Mickey's ears worth it.�� The oldest Reyes says then, turning around to come back to their bikes.

You are there. Standing up in silence at the beginning of the garden. You have been there the whole time, listening every word Coco said. His wide eyes are fixed on yours, holding a box of Don Julio between your arms, and a big cardboard bag full of doughnuts of different flavors hanging from your closed teeth. Angel pushes him with both palms on his back, forcing his brother to walk towards you. Spitting the bag over the box of tequila, EZ comes closer to grab them and free your hands, before throwing your keys to his old brother.

“The kitchen is at the end of the hallway”. You just say, waiting for them to come in.

“(Y/N), 'am so—”.

“I heard everything you said”. Interrupting him, you close both arms over your chest, wrinkling your nose. Trying to process everything. “The night of our anniversary, I was about to ask you to marry me. One day I went to the clubhouse and heard you talking with Angel, because you were scared of me thinking you were crazy for proposing. So, I was about to do it”.

“I wan'et. I wanna marry you and… being together all my life”.

“You fucked me up badly, Johnny. Really fucking bad”.

“I know, I know… But, please. Gimme a last chance, ain't fuck it up again. And I know you don' believe me, I get it, I earned that shit, but I will show you every day, mami. No more nights out of our home. No more days without calling or texting you, I will do it every hour. And I will not… talk to you again like a fuckin' shit”. He looks and sounds sincere, with his reddened eyes begging you. And you're conscious that Coco is as destroyed inside as you are. “Please…”

Heavily sighing and rubbing your forehead, you lean forward to kiss his cheek, before surrounding him with both arms to hug him tightly.

“I fuckin' love you, (Y/N)”. He cries now, collapsing under your grip without can't avoid it.

“I know, Coquito”. You whisper caressing his messy hair, pushing him closer.

Feeling him again is like coming back to life, kissing once and once his face and trying to clean his tears, breaking you a little watching him like that. Clinging his hands in your thighs, he urges you to wrap his waist with both legs.

“And of course I want to marry you, shithead”. You say, making him chuckle between tears, sinking his face into your neck.

“I love you more than anythen', I swear to God. And I will… make you happy as you deserve”.

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#mayans mc x reader #mayans mc #mayans mc imagine #mayans x reader #johnny coco cruz x reader #johnny coco cruz imagine #coco cruz imagine #coco cruz x reader #coco cruz

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musicprincess1990 · 4 years

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2 & 15 for the trope duos please! :))

Taken from this prompt list (still accepting, always accepting!)

I AM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG!! The last few weeks have been hell, between my dad getting sick and my job being stressful, I’ve been hard-pressed to find any motivation. But! You’re not here to read my sob story, you’re here for some tropey goodness! Pre-series AU, Sherlock’s slightly OOC, but it’s AU, so it works. Happy reading!

Molly cringed as a roar thundered from the room below hers, followed by a resounding thud, which she guessed was someone’s foot colliding violently with the nearest wall. That someone being her temporary flatmate, Sherlock Holmes.

With her new position at Bart’s, she finally had the funds to have a flat all her own, and was supposed to have moved into a nice little spot over a week ago. Unfortunately, the building had been very suddenly condemned, leaving her homeless until she could find a new place. She made do with kipping on Meena’s sofa, but with her friend’s frequent visitors (particularly those of the male variety), she had a feeling her welcome would soon wear out.

One morning, while having lunch in the canteen, she’d been absently scrolling through listings online, when a familiar voice interrupted her perusal.

“I would recommend steering well clear of Southall Green,” he said, startling her into dropping her fork on the table. He ignored this, and went on, “I know the landlord, an old schoolmate of mine. I also know he charges exorbitant fees from his tenants under the guise of a homeowners association, but in fact uses the money to fuel his gambling addiction. Can’t prove it yet, of course, but I will eventually.”

She swallowed the bite of pasta she’d taken before he’d turned up. “Oh, well… thanks for the tip.”

He nodded, appearing satisfied she’d taken his advice, but remained where he stood, watching her with a curious expression. Just as Molly was about to ask if he needed anything, he spoke again. “Incidentally, I’ve recently moved into a new flat myself, and there is an extra room…”

Molly’s jaw dropped. “Are… are you saying…?”

“Obviously, it would be temporary, until you find a new place of your own, but the location is rather ideal. Baker Street, just a few minutes’ cab ride away. And should I need access to a body for one of the Yard’s cases, it would be convenient to have you just upstairs.”

Of course, it was all about his convenience. Nevertheless, Molly felt a blush forming beneath her cheeks, and a swarm of butterflies in her belly. There was no denying her attraction to him—really, just look at the man!—and he was right, it was much closer to work than the condemned flat would have been. That combined with the subtle arch of one eyebrow over his mercurial eyes… well, there really was no hope of refusal.

“Well… if you’re sure, that-that would be… fine. Great, actually... thank you, Sherlock.”

He smiled briefly. “I’ll text you the address, feel free to move your things in whenever is convenient.” Sherlock glanced at his phone, then offered another smile. “Sorry, must be off, missing persons case, rather high-profile. I’ll leave your key with the landlady.” And with that, he swept off in his usual, dramatic fashion, leaving her in her usual, befuddled state.

In the week since then, life at Baker Street had been fairly quiet. In fact, Molly had seen Sherlock only twice since she’d moved in. She knew he came home at some point each day, the odd used cup added to the sink full of unwashed dishes proving he at least took tea now and again. She supposed he tended to come in after she’d gone to bed, and left each day before she woke. She’d seen him in passing while she visited with Mrs. Hudson, their delightful landlady, acknowledging them both with a smile before reaching into one of the cupboards and swiping a handful of ginger nuts. Mrs. Hudson scolded him, but made no further efforts to stop him, leading Molly to believe she was already quite fond of her new tenant.

The second time she’d seen him was perhaps an hour ago. It was her day off, and she’d spent most of the morning lazing about, but the aforementioned sink full of dishes demanded emptying, and put a brief hold on her lazing. She had just finished, and was about to settle into the new, comfortable-looking chair by the fire, when Sherlock pounded his way up the stairs, storming into the room and throwing himself onto the sofa. He scowled at the ceiling, either ignoring her or oblivious to her presence. Something about the look on his face told her not to try and make conversation, so she quietly made her way up the stairs, in order to give him some privacy.

A second thud yanked her from her thoughts, and Molly bit her lip in concern, mingled with annoyance. Really, did he have to behave so childishly? But her concern won out, propelling her down the stairs and back into the sitting room. She peered in from the doorway in time to see a cricket ball soar across the room and make contact with the wall behind the sofa. Ah, so not his foot then, she thought absently, watching the ball ricochet and land with a plop on one of the cushions.

“Molly,” Sherlock muttered grumpily by way of greeting.

“Bad day, was it?” she asked.

“I’m fine.” He produced another cricket ball—just how many did he have?—and gave it a violent toss, producing the same result. She counted four remaining on the sofa, and glanced back at him in time to see him reach into a box for yet another.

“Did you have a row with the wall?” she quipped.

Thud. “Don’t make jokes, Molly.”

“Well, something must have happened for you to abuse it like this.”

He paused mid-throw and scowled at her. “Is there a point to this conversation?”

“Well...” she floundered, her reticent nature pushing her to retreat.

“Spare me,” he cut her off, and threw his sixth cricket ball, which seemed to be the last, as he picked up the box and refilled it with the balls that had settled on the sofa. “There is nothing wrong with me. I did not have a bad day, I simply... want to practice. Never know when a good throwing arm might come in handy.”

“Bollocks,” she blurted without thinking, and his eyes shot up to meet hers. “I-I mean...” she stammered, but then, from somewhere deep within her, a burst of courage found its way up. “I don’t really... I don’t know you very well, but I know enough that oftentimes, your actions speak louder than your words.” When he made no response, just stared at her, listening, she went on.

“You try to put on this... this emotionless mask... but anyone looking closely enough can see that’s all it is. A mask. You do have emotions, I see them when you come into the lab or the morgue, when you’re on a case. It... excites you. And I know you care very much for Mrs. Hudson, even if you won’t say it. Clearly, there’s at least some level of affection, or she wouldn’t let you nick her ginger nuts,” she laughed softly, then sobered and looked him in the eye. “And it doesn’t take a genius to know you’re upset about something right now.”

Sherlock continued staring, blinking a few times. She’d seen that look before... once at Bart’s, he’d been on a case, trying to work out some clue or other. He’d been stumped, something he was not used to being.

Had... had she stumped him?

“Um... Sherlock?” she frowned, feeling uneasy under the weight of his gaze.

Something in him seemed to snap. In two quick strides, he had crossed over to where she stood, eyes blazing, and before she could stammer out a coherent question, he had cradled her face in his hands and kissed her.

Oh Lord, did he kiss her!

His lips, soft and sweet and urgent, attacked hers with a passion she soon felt pooling in her belly. As she reached up to tangle her fingers in his hair, his arms moved to her waist, hoisting her up and pressing her against the nearest wall. On instinct, she wrapped her legs around him, and was rewarded with a deep, guttural groan that shot through her like lightning. He pressed closer, until, apparently not satisfied with their proximity, he pulled her away from the wall and carried her right into his bedroom.

Molly had no time to survey her new surroundings before being tossed onto the bed in a giggling heap. Sherlock followed, and soon it was all tangled limbs, breathless sighs, and removal of clothing, leading up to what was undoubtedly the best shag of her life.

While she caught her breath, she half expected him to close off, maybe even leave (though it was his room). Instead, he surprised her by wrapping his arms around her, guiding her head to his shoulder. Sherlock Holmes is a cuddler! she thought gleefully, but kept this thought to herself, lest he push her away.

“Sherlock?” she began tentatively.

“Hmm?”

She gnawed on her lip thoughtfully. “What exactly was that?”

He was quiet for a moment, then, “Molly, did your parents neglect to give you ‘The Talk’? If that is the case, I have to wonder how on earth you managed such a glowing performance just now.”

Molly grinned at his compliment, but jabbed him in the side with one finger. “Not what I meant, and you know it!”

Sherlock sighed, shifting them both so they lay on their sides, facing each other. His eyes, so stormy and intense before, now made her think of the ocean under a clear blue sky. “I don’t think anyone has been able to read me so clearly. Not even Mycroft.”

Mycroft? Molly wondered who the owner of such an unusual name could be. Then again, Sherlock wasn’t the most common name, either. Still, she couldn’t imagine any other name suiting him so well.

“I lost a client,” he spoke again, his eyes shifting pensively to her hair on the pillow. He moved a hand between them and toyed with the long, loose strands. “Eighteen years old. Looking for his younger brother. I solved it... but not until after I’d found them both dead in a warehouse in Chelsea.”

Molly’s throat tightened. “Oh, Sherlock...”

“I felt... guilt,” he admitted, his eyes still fixed on the strands of her hair that slid through his fingers. “Such a young man, barely a man at all, and his brother was even younger, only fifteen. I deal with death on a regular basis, and it has never bothered me... until today.” His eyes closed on an exhale. “If only I’d been there sooner—”

“Stop,” she said firmly, and his eyes opened in surprise. “Don’t you dare blame yourself, this isn’t your fault. Sometimes, these things just... happen.” She brushed her fingers along his cheekbone, and his breath stuttered a bit. “You can’t save everyone, Sherlock.”

“Easy for you to say, they’re already dead when you meet them.”

Molly frowned and removed her hand, and the look he gave her as she did reminded her of a boy being scolded for doing something he didn’t know he’d done. “Not good?”

Oh, the adorable man... it was all she could do not to kiss those pouting lips.

Molly sighed. “No, not good. But you’re upset, so I’ll forgive you. This time,” she added with a grin.

He smirked, all traces of boyishness gone. “And I suppose the sex has nothing to do with it?”

“Keep that up, and I’ll un-forgive you,” she swatted him.

“That’s not a word.”

“It is now.”

“Mollyyyyy...”

“Sherlooooock...”

He silenced her with a kiss, and Molly completely forgot why she was cross with him to begin with. Sherlock shifted until he was leaning over her, deepening the kiss and turning her insides to jelly. She had just enough presence of mind, however, to break off and give one final warning.

“You can’t just snog me into getting what you want, Sherlock Holmes.”

“What if what I want is to snog you?” he countered.

“I mean it, Sherlock.”

He sighed. “Fine. I will never use your addiction to my body as a means of getting my way. May I please get back to snogging you?”

“Oh, you—!”

But whatever insult she’d planned to throw at him was swallowed by Sherlock’s insistent lips. And Molly just couldn’t bring herself to care.

#my writing #sherlolly fanfiction #trope duos #damn i'm proud of this #gigglesnort

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castieltheavengerr · 4 years

Text

Wormhole - Part 1

Pairings: eventual Peter Parker x reader

Warnings: Mentions of a car crash, angst, swearing

Synopsis: Y/N wakes up in a place she doesn’t know of, with a man claiming to be a god by her side. Superheroes don’t exist, right? In time, she finds out things about herself that she never knew before, and even gets to live with a hot guy, who happens to also be a crime-fighting hero. Will Y/N ever be able to go back home, or has she found it already?

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: Finally, I finished the first part of this new series. Sorry it took me so long, like I said, I have a continuity problem. FYI, this series will be set before and during FFH. This first chapter is set the winter after Endgame.

You swing your keys around your finger, walking through the snow outside of your high school. You just want to get to your car, get home, and take a nap. Sophomore year sucks. Everyone’s an asshole, and classes are way harder than they were freshman year.

You listen to the crunch of your feet in the snow, taking refuge in the sound. Much nicer to hear than the freshman boys screaming in the locker bay. You close your eyes, appreciating the coldness outside for once. It’s just too crowded in that hellhole of a school, and the openness outside feels amazing. You open your eyes, realizing that you probably look like a freak just standing outside in the snow. You blush, and continue walking.

After walking across the huge-ass parking lot to your car at the end of the parking lot, you fumble to get your keys and unlock your car. The one thing that sucks about having the first period off; you never get a good parking spot.

As you’re trying to unlock your piece-of-shit car, Abby, your friend from chemistry grabs your attention. She waves as she nears her own car, a nice black Jeep. You wish.

“Hey, Y/N, that test really sucked today, didn’t it? I swear, I totally failed it,” the junior says to you.

You breathe out a laugh, and nod your head in agreement.

“Yeah, it was a real tough one. Mr. Warener always puts stuff on the tests we never learned about.”

Abby laughs and starts to unlock her car.

“Well, I gotta get going, see ya tomorrow, Y/N.”

“Bye, Abby,” you say before she gets into her already started Jeep, likely already warm on the inside.

You slide into your car, and start it, rubbing your hands together. “Fuckin’ winter,” you whisper to yourself, buckling your seatbelt. You put your car in reverse, and drive out of the lot.

As you’re driving home, listening to your playlist from your phone, you think about how mundane your life is. You just wish your life was a bit more exciting. As the light turns green and you put your foot on the gas, you hear horns. You turn to your left and see a blue compact speeding straight for you. You scream, not even having any more time to react. Then everything goes black.

——————————————————————

Thor is just minding his own damn business getting ready to leave with the Guardians when one of his people comes knocking on his door. She says something about a girl popping up in the middle of the street, unconscious. He stops what he’s doing and looks at Margrethe, a look of ‘you’ve gotta be shitting me’ on his face.

“I don’t know, sir, she just came out of nowhere. People are scared, and she isn’t dressed like she’s from here. She’s young too. I don’t have any idea about what you could do, but it would ease everyone’s minds if you came down and took a look.” Margrethe is visibly shaken, likely having seen the appearance of the girl. These people had been through so much, they just deserve a little break.

Thor follows Margrethe down to the street in question, and sees the girl in the middle of the road, surrounded by confused Asgardians. When they see Thor, they move out of the way for him. He may not be their king anymore, but they still respect him as much as they do Valkyrie. He watched over them, how could they not?

He looks down at the girl in the snow. She looks young, young enough to be in school. Her Y/H/C hair is sprawled out on the ground, pointing in every direction. He leans down and scoops her limp form up in his arms, a place she looks so small in. He carries her to the nearest house, where he sets her down on a bed.

He watches her for a minute or two, trying to figure out what to do, when she shoots up screaming bloody murder. Thor jumps up, and approaches her, trying to calm her down. When she sees an enormous stranger of a man, who happens to look like a Viking, approaching her, she screams even louder.

“What are you doing? Who are you? Where am I?”

Thor pats his hands in the space in front of him, trying to tell her to calm down. She’s got tears streaming down her face. He’s taken aback by her American accent, expecting her to be from somewhere in Europe, given the fact that that’s where she is.

“I’m just trying to help, is all. I’m Thor, you’re in New Asgard,” he says, expecting her to know who he is. Her face contorts in confusion, and Thor sighs. He hates having to do this himself. “You know, Thor Odinson, God of Thunder and all? Avenger, saved the world multiple times?” He watches her face, looking for any hint of recognition. Instead, all he finds is a look of incredulity.

She laughs, seeming to think this is some sort of sick joke. “Are you crazy? Just my luck. I get in a car crash, and I happen to get picked up by a psycho.” She shakes her head, too shocked and confused to think anything through.

“Look, I’m not crazy. I’m telling the truth, and there’s a whole village of people outside who could tell you the same thing. I just want to help you,” he says apologetically, approaching her with his arm outstretched.

The girl moves backward on the bed and throws her hands up. “Don’t touch me!” she screams, distracting Thor from the sound of a beer bottle raking it’s way across a table. The next thing he knows, something glass and hard hits his temple. He curses and looks down, only to find fragments of opaque brown glass scattered around his feet. He looks up at the girl, who seems just as shocked as he is.

“How did you do that?” he asks, maybe a bit too harshly. She flinches, her head moving slightly from side to side, rocking back and forth on the bed. She looks at him, a look of curiosity, yet fear embedded in her eyes.

“That couldn’t have been me. It can’t be. That’s not possible, it’s just impossible, things don’t move on their own!” She rocks back and forth harder, eyes overflowing with tears. Thor looks at her quizzically, not understanding.

“So you mean to tell me that you’ve never done that before?” She shakes her head, eyes watering. Thor tries to think of any possible explanation for this, and has an idea. “Did you get snapped? That might explain all of this,” he says, as calmly as he can, so as not to scare the girl. All he gets in return is another look of confusion. He figures they may have different names for it in different places, so he explains how half of the population disappeared for five years before coming back.

She throws her hands up and looks at him in an amused way, still thinking he’s batshit crazy.

“Look, dude, I have no idea what you’re high on, and given how stressed I am right now, I’d actually like to try some, but I’d just like to go home, and you can continue your fantasy with made-up gods and crazy aliens.”

Thor doesn’t even know what to say. There is no way this girl doesn’t know about the Snap. Even if she lived under a rock, she would know. He stands up and starts to walk towards the door, and the girl tenses.

“Where are you going?” she asks nervously. While she thinks this dude is on some crazy psychedelic drugs, she doesn’t want to be alone right now.

“You don’t believe me? Follow me outside and I’ll prove it to you, right now.” She hops off the bed, just wanting to see what kind of magical fuckery this dude is gonna pull.

When they get outside, the man, who she remembers called himself Thor, holds out his hand, as if wanting something to just magically appear there. She snorts, and he shoots her a look. Before she can tell him how stupid he looks, a big axe looking thing flies into his hand, and her jaw drops. She starts to ask him how he did that, but before she can get words out, he thrusts his axe hand up in the air, and lightning bolts down to it, his eyes glowing blue. She takes a step back, and before she knows it, the show is over. He grins, looking at her.

“Believe me now?” She slowly nods her head, and slides down the wall of the house to sit in the snow. Thor walks over, and sits down next to her. “What’s your name? Believe me, all I want to do is help you.” She turns her head to look him in the eyes.

“Y/N. My name is Y/N. But I really don’t think that’s important right now. What’s important is the fact that shit like that isn’t possible. There are no gods, there are no telekinetic powers, and there sure as hell wasn’t a five year period where half of life on earth ceased to exist.” Thor looks over at her, compassion in his eyes.

“Well, Y/N, I may know someone who can help us out. You’re American, am I correct?” She nods her head. “There’s an organization called SHIELD. They specialize in this type of thing. I have a good friend who works there, and he may be able to help you.” She gets an excited look in her eye.

“What’s your friend’s name?”

“His name is Nick Fury.”

#peter parker x reader #reader x peter parker #marvel fanfiction #marvel fic #marvel #thor odinson #spiderman ffh #avengers #endgame

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thedoctorcried · 3 years

Text

Runaway - Part Ten

~Masterlist~

Concept: Hazel Richards is a twenty-year-old woman living in London. When she meets a mysterious time-travelling alien known only as the Hunter, she’s thrust into a world of wonder she could only have imagined.

Warnings: swearing, follows S1 of Doctor Who.

The TARDIS materialised on the observation deck of some space station, and the Hunter and Hazel stepped out, leaving Adam inside for the moment.

"So, it's two hundred thousand, and it's a spaceship. No, wait a minute, space station, and er, go and try that gate over there," the Hunter instructed, pointing. "Off you go."

"Two hundred thousand?" Hazel checked.

The Hunter nodded. "Two hundred thousand."

"Right." She opened the TARDIS door and called in, "Adam? Out you come."

The boy walked out tentatively, and his jaw dropped. "Oh my God."

"Don't worry, you'll get used to it," Hazel assured him.

"Where are we?" Adam wondered, his eyes wide.

"Good question," Hazel praised, doing her best to ignore the Hunter's amused smirk. "Let's see. So, er, judging by the architecture, I'd say we're around the year two hundred thousand. If you listen..."

"Yeah," Adam nodded eagerly.

"Engines," Hazel identified. "We're on some sort of space station. Yeah, definitely a space station. It's a bit warm in here." She tied her jacket around her waist, blowing out a breath. "They could turn the heating down. Tell you what - let's try that gate. Come on!" She bounded off towards the gate in question, and Adam and the Hunter followed, one bemused, one amused.

"Here we go!" Hazel cheered as they reached a massive viewing window. "And this is... I'll let the Hunter describe it."

"The Fourth Great and Bountiful Human Empire. And there it is, planet Earth at it's height," the Hunter pointed. "Covered with mega-cities, five moons, population ninety six billion. The hub of a galactic domain stretching across a million planets, a million species, with mankind right in the middle." She smirked as Adam fainted behind her. "He's your boyfriend."

Hazel snorted. "Not anymore."

***

Later, the three of them were walking through a corridor of the space station as the Hunter explained. "Come on, Adam. Open your mind. You're going to like this. Fantastic period of history. The human race at its most intelligent. Culture, art, politics. This era has got fine food, good manners..."

They walked through a door at the end of the corridor and were immediately hit with the loud sounds of a bustling canteen.

"Out of the way!" one man shouted as he barged past.

"Fine cuisine?" Hazel repeated, wrinkling her nose at something called a kronkburger.

"My watch must be fine," the Hunter frowned, checking it. "No, its fine. It's weird."

"That's what comes of showing off," Hazel teased. "Your history's not as good as you thought it was."

"My history's perfect," the Hunter retorted.

Hazel shrugged, gesturing to the scene that lay before them. "Well, obviously not."

"They're all human," Adam realised. "What about the millions of planets, the millions of species? Where are they?"

"Good question," the Hunter muttered absently, before blinking. "Actually, that is a good question. Adam, my good lad, you must be starving."

"No, I'm just a bit time sick," Adam tried, but the Hunter was having none of it.

"No, you just need a bit of food." She called over to one of the food trucks. "Oi, mate! How much is a kronkburger?"

"Two credits twenty, sweetheart," the chef yelled back. "Now join the queue."

"Money," the Hunter mused. "We need money. Let's use a cashpoint." She went over to the nearest one and buzzed it with her sonic screwdriver, producing a plastic card, which she then handed to Adam. "There you go. Pocket money. Don't spend it all on sweets."

"How does it work?" Adam asked.

The Hunter shrugged. "I don't know. Go and find out. Stop nagging me. The thing is, Adam, time travel's like visiting Paris. You can't just read the guide book, you've got to throw yourself in. Eat the food, use the wrong verbs, get charged double, and end up kissing complete strangers." She frowned. "Or is that just me? Stop asking questions, just go and do it." Adam started off, and she smirked at Hazel. "Off you go, then. Your very first date," she teased.

"You're going to get a smack, you are," Hazel promised, grinning cheekily, before skipping off after Adam.

Smirking, the Hunter approached a pair of smartly dressed young women, before putting on a slightly embarrassed but polite smile. "Excuse me?" The women turned to her. "Er, this is going to sound daft, but can you tell me where I am?"

The darker-haired woman raised an eyebrow scathingly. "Floor One Three Nine. Could they write it any bigger?"

The Hunter glanced up at where it was written on the wall and bit her lip. "Yeah, but Floor One Three Nine of what?"

"Must have been a hell of a party," the brunette remarked.

"You're on Satellite Five," the blonde said in a much kinder tone.

"What's Satellite Five?" the Hunter asked, clueless.

The brunette scoffed. "Come on, how could you get on board without knowing where you are?"

The Hunter shrugged, making a face. "Look at me, I'm stupid."

"Hold on, wait a minute." The blonde narrowed her eyes. "Are you a test? Some sort of management test kind of thing?"

The ginger woman grinned, spreading her arms. "You've got me. Well done. You're too clever for me." She held up her psychic paper, which seemed to convince the two women, who both stiffened slightly.

"We were warned about this in basic training," the blonde stated warily. "All workers have to be versed in company promotion."

"Right, fire away, ask your questions," the brunette nodded, waving her hands. "If it gets me to Floor Five Hundred I'll do anything."

The Hunter raised an eyebrow. "Why, what happens on Floor Five Hundred?"

"The walls are made of gold," the brunette replied. "And you should know, Miss Management. So, this is what we do." She lead them over to a monitor mounted on the wall among dozens. "Latest news, sandstorms on the new Venus archipelago. Two hundred dead. Glasgow water riots into their third day. Space lane seventy seven closed by sunspot activity. And over on the Bad Wolf channel, the Face of Boe has just announced he's pregnant."

After a brief moment of surprise that the Face of Boe was around this early, the Hunter nodded, shrugging. "I get it. You broadcast the news."

"We are the news," the brunette countered. "We're the journalists. We write it, package it and sell it. Six hundred channels all coming out of Satellite Five, broadcasting everywhere."

***

"All staff are reminded that the canteen area now operates a self-cleaning table system. Thank you."

Hazel joined Adam at a table, holding a cold drink she'd bought from the nearby serving station. "Try this," she suggested. "It's called Zaphic. It's nice, it's like a, er, a Slush Puppy."

"What flavour?" Adam inquired, raising an eyebrow.

She took a sip through the straw and giggled. "It's sort of... beef?"

Adam groaned. "Oh my God. It's like everything's gone - home, family, everything."

Hazel pulled out her phone. "This helps. The Hunter gave it a bit of a top-up. Who's back home, your mum and dad?"

"Yeah."

"Phone them up," she suggested, offering him her phone.

He frowned. "But that's one hundred and ninety eight thousand years ago."

"Honestly, try it," Hazel encouraged.

He went to dial, but hesitated. "Is there a code for planet Earth?"

She rolled her eyes. "Just dial!"

Adam nodded, and got on with it. After a moment, he began. "It's er... Hi. It's me. I've sort of gone travelling. I met these people and we've gone travelling together. But, er, I'm fine, and I'll call you later. Love you. Bye." He turned back to a grinning Hazel with wide eyes. "That is so -"

He was cut off by a loud alarm, causing everyone else in the area to pack up and leave.

"Oi!" a familiar voice called, and they looked around to see the Hunter beckoning. "Over here!"

Hazel ran over, grinning, and Adam shrugged and put her phone in his pocket before following.

***

The two women led the Hunter, Hazel, and Adam into a broadcast room, where seven people were seated at an octagonal desk around a central chair. The three time travellers stood to one side behind some railings to observe.

"Now, everybody behave," the brunette instructed. "We have a management inspection." She glanced over. "How do you want it, by the book?"

"Right from scratch, thanks," the Hunter requested, flashing a polite smile.

The brunette nodded. "Okay. So, ladies, gentlemen, multi-sex, undecided or robot - my name is Cathica Santini Khadeni." She turned back to the Hunter. "That's Cathica with a C, in case you want to write to Floor Five Hundred praising me, and please do." Hazel shared a look with her friend. "Now, please fell free to ask any questions. The process of news gathering must be open, hones, and beyond bias. That's company policy."

"Actually, it's the law," the blonde woman pointed out.

Cathica bristled. "Yes, thank you, Suki. Okay, keep it calm. Don't show off for the guests. Here we go." She settled herself into the central chair. "And engage safety." The seven around the desk held their hands over the palm prints in the table in front of them. Lights started to come on around the room, and Cathica clicked her fingers, opening a portal in her forehead. "And three, two, and spike." A beam of light from the machinery above her shone down into her portal.

The Hunter moved closer, Hazel following. "Compressed information, streaming into her. Reports from every city, every country, every planet, and they all get packaged inside her head. She becomes part of the software. Her brain is the computer."

"If it all goes through her, she must be a genius," Hazel frowned. Cathica hadn't had the same kind of 'intelligent and knows it' aura the Hunter had.

"Nah, she wouldn't remember any of it," the Hunter shook her head. "There's too much. Her head'd blow up. The brain's the processor. As soon as it closes, she forgets."

Hazel nodded in understanding, turning around. "So what about all these people round the edge?"

"They've all got tiny little chips in their head connecting them to her, and they transmit six hundred channels," the Hunter explained. "Every single fact in the Empire beams out of this place. Now that's what I call power."

"You all right?" Hazel asked. The Hunter glanced at her to see her talking to Adam, who was looking a bit green. She rolled her eyes.

"I can see her brain," Adam muttered, looking repulsed.

"Do you want to get out?" Hazel offered.

"No," he said hastily, then thought about it. "No, this technology, it's amazing."

The Hunter scoffed. "This technology's wrong."

"Trouble?" Hazel asked, grinning.

The ginger woman turned her head to look at her friend, flashing a brilliant smile, eyes only for Hazel. "Oh, yeah."

Suddenly, Suki pulled her hands away the desk as if she'd had an electric shock. The other six lifted their hands and the info-beam shut down. Cathica's portal closed, and she sat up, looking annoyed. "Come off it, Suki. I wasn't even halfway. What was that for?"

"Sorry," Suki mumbled. "It must've been a glitch."

"Oh." Cathica didn't sound convinced.

"Promotion," a tannoy stated. A wall lit up with the word, making everyone turn to it.

"Come on," Cathica begged, bouncing on the balls of her feet. "This is it. Come on. Oh, God, make it me! Come on, say my name, say my name, say my name!"

"Promotion for Suki Macrae Cantrell. Please proceed to Floor Five Hundred."

"I don't believe it," Suki gasped, standing up. "Floor Five Hundred."

"How the hell did you manage that?" Cathica demanded. "I'm above you."

"I don't know," Suki shrugged, starting to smile. "I just applied on the off chance, and they've said yes!"

"That's so not fair," Cathica scowled. "I've been applying to Floor Five Hundred for three years."

"What's Floor Five Hundred?" Hazel wondered, looking confused.

The Hunter shrugged, her hands plunged deep into her trenchcoat pockets. "The walls are made of gold."

***

A few minutes, they'd followed Cathica and Suki out to the lift where the latter was saying her goodbyes. "Cathica, I'm goping to miss you." She turned to the Hunter. "Floor Five Hundred, thank you."

The Hunter smiled, shaking her head in confusion. "I didn't do anything."

"Well, you're my lucky charm," Suki shrugged.

"All right," the Hunter grinned, accepting the woman's hug. "I'll hug anyone."

"Come on," Hazel rolled her eyes a little ways away. "It's not that bad."

"What, with the head thing?" Adam raised his eyebrows, incredulous.

"Yeah, well, she's closed it now," Hazel pointed out.

"Yeah, but..." Adam sighed. "It's everything. It freaks me out. And I just need to... If I could just cool down. Sort of acclimatise."

"How do you mean?" Hazel frowned.

"Maybe i could just go and sit on the observation deck," he suggested. "Would that be all right? Soak it in, you know. Pretend I'm a citizen of the year two hundred thousand."

"Do you want me to come with you?" she offered.

"No, no, you stick with the Hunter," Adam told her. "You'd rather be with her. It's going to take a better man than me to get between you two. Anyway I'll be on the deck."

She bit her lip, making a decision and taking the chain from around her neck. "Here you go. Take the TARDIS key. You know, just in case it gets a bit much."

He snorted. "Yeah, like it's not weird in there."

"All staff are reminded that the sixteen forty break session has been shortened by ten minutes. Thank you."

Adam left, and Hazel skipped over to the Hunter and Cathica as Suki went into the lift.

"Oh my God, I've got to go," Suki exclaimed, grinning. "I can't keep them waiting. I'm sorry. Say goodbye to Steve for me. Bye!"

The lift door closed, and Cathica snorted. "Good riddance."

The Hunter narrowed her eyes. "You're talking like you'll never see her again. She's only going upstairs."

"We won't," Cathica deadpanned. "Once you go to Floor Five Hundred you never come back."

They started walking back through the cafeteria, which was now empty. "Have you ever been up there?" Hazel asked curiously.

"I can't," Cathica told her. "You need a key for the lift, and you only get a key with promotion. No one gets to Five Hundred except for the chosen few."

***

Later, she'd let them back into the broadcast room. "Look, they only give us twenty minutes maintenance. Can't you give it a rest?"

"But you've never been to another floor?" the Hunter frowned, sitting in the central chair. "Not even one floor down?"

"I went to floor sixteen when I first arrived," Cathica admitted. "That's medical. That's when I got my head done, and then I came straight here. Satellite Five, you work, eat, and sleep on the same floor. That's it, that's all." She paused. "You're not management, are you."

"At last," Hazel grinned.

"She's clever," the Hunter laughed, sharing her friend's smile.

Cathica scowled. "Yeah, well, whatever it is, don't involve me. I don't know anything."

"Don't you even ask?" the Hunter shook her head, looking up at her.

"Well, why would I?" Cathica countered.

Hazel narrowed her eyes. "You're a journalist. Why's all the crew human?"

Cathica blinked. "What's that got to do with anything?"

"There's no aliens on board," the Hunter stated, fixing her with a strong gaze. "Why?"

"I don't know," Cathica shrugged. "No real reason. They're not banned or anything."

"Then where are they?" Hazel questioned, leaning her arms on the back of the chair.

"I suppose immigration's tightened up," Cathica tried. "It's had to, what with all the threats."

The Hunter's eyes narrowed. "What threats?"

"I don't know, all of them," Cathica shrugged. "Usual stuff. And the price of space warp doubled so that kept the visitors away. Oh, and the government on Chavic Five's collapsed, so that lot stopped coming, you see. Just lots of little reasons, that's all."

"All adding up to this one great big fact, and you didn't even notice," the Hunter pointed out astutely.

Cathica sighed, rolling her eyes. "Hunter, I think if there was any kind of conspiracy, Satellite Five would have seen it. We see everything."

"I can see better," the Hunter countered. "This society's the wrong shape, even the technology."

"It's cutting edge!" Cathica protested.

"It's backwards," the Hunter deadpanned. "There's a great big door in your head. You should've chucked this out years ago."

Hazel glanced down at her. "So what do you think's going on?"

"It's not just this space station, it's the whole attitude," the Hunter told her. "It's the way people think. The great and bountiful Human Empire's stunted. Something's holding it back."

"And how would you know?" Cathica raised her eyebrows.

The Hunter rolled her eyes. "Trust me, humanity's been set back about ninety years. When did Satellite Five start broadcasting?"

"Ninety one years ago," Cathica replied, biting her lip.

Hazel laughed as the Hunter spread her arms smugly.

***

Later, they were watching as the Hunter broke into a computer cupboard.

"We are so going to get in trouble," Cathica worried. "You're not allowed to touch the mainframe. You're going to get told off."

"Haze?" the Hunter asked.

"Shut up," Hazel advised, much politer than she could have been under the circumstances.

"You can't just vandalise the place," Cathica complained. "Someone's going to notice!" She shook her head as the Hunter made something spark in the cupboard. "This is nothing to do with me. I'm going back to work."

"Go on, then," the Hunter waved, then went back to the wiring. "See you!"

Cathica made to leave, but sighed. "I can't just leave you, can I!"

"If you want to be useful, get them to turn the heating down," Hazel suggested, fanning herself. "It's boiling. What's wrong with place? Can't they do something about it?"

"I don't know," Cathica shrugged. "We keep asking. Something to do with the turbine."

"Something to do with the turbine," the Hunter scoffed.

"Well, I don't know!"

"Exactly. I give up on you, Cathica," the Hunter shook her head, then pointed at Hazel. "Now, Hazel. Look at Hazel. Hazel is asking the right kind of question."

"Oh, thank you," Hazel grinned.

"Why is it so hot?" the Hunter added.

Cathica stared at them for a moment. "One minute you're worried about the Empire and the next it's the central heating!"

The Hunter shrugged, flashing a grin. "Well, never underestimate plumbing. Plumbing's very important." She managed to produce a monitor with the schematics of the station on it. "Here we go. Satellite Five, pipes and plumbing. Look at the layout."

"This is ridiculous," Cathica scoffed. "You've got access to the computer's core. You can look at the archive, the news, the stock exchange and you're looking at pipes?"

"But there's something wrong," the Hunter pointed out.

"I suppose," Cathica sighed.

"Why, what is it?" Hazel inquired, glancing between them and the screen.

"The ventilation system," Cathica replied. "Cooling ducts, ice filters, all working flat out channelling massive heat down."

"All the way from the top," the Hunter agreed.

"Floor Five Hundred," Hazel realised.

"Something up there is generating tons and tons of heat," the Hunter nodded.

"Well, I don't know about you, but I feel like I'm missing out on a party," Hazel decided. "It's all going on upstairs. Want a trip?"

"You can't. You need a key," Cathica pointed out.

The Hunter shook her head. "Keys are just codes, and I've got the codes right here. Here we go. Override two one five point nine."

Cathica blinked as the monitor showed the code. "How come it's given you the code?"

"Someone up there likes me," the Hunter pointed upwards, shrugging.

***

"Come on," Hazel tried to persuade Cathica. "Come with us."

"No way," Cathica shook her head.

"Bye!" The Hunter waved, stepping into the lift with Hazel at her heels.

Cathica blinked. "Well, don't mention my name. When you get in trouble, just don't involve me." She walked off, and the lift doors closed.

The Hunter sighed. "That's her gone. Adam's given up. Looks like it's just you and me."

"Yeah," Hazel nodded, smiling.

"Good," the Hunter grinned, nudging her.

"Yep," she agreed, laughing.

***

The Hunter narrowed her eyes as they walked out onto Floor Five Hundred, seeing the place full of icicles. Hazel put her jacket back on, shivering. "The walls are not made of gold," the Time Lady noted, biting her lip and glancing back at Hazel. "You should go back downstairs."

Hazel raised her eyebrows at her. "Tough."

She smiled, shaking her head, and they started to walk through the ice and cobwebs. Suddenly, they came across a white-haired man and several corpses sitting at what looked very similar to the broadcast room down on One Thirty Nine.

The man clapped when he saw them. "I started without you. This is fascinating. Satellite Five contains every piece of information within the Fourth Great and Bountiful Human Empire. Birth certificates, shopping habits, bank statements, but you two, you don't exist. Not a trace. No birth, no job, not the slightest kiss. How can you walk through the world and not leave a single footprint?"

"Suki," Hazel gasped, seeing the woman working at one of the consoles and running over to her. "Suki! Hello? Can you hear me? Suki?" She glared at the man. "What have you done to her?"

"I think she's dead," the Hunter told her.

Hazel gestured to the console. "She's working."

The Hunter bit her lip. "They've all got chips in their head, and the chips keep going, like puppets."

"Oh! You're full of information!" the man exclaimed. "But it's only fair we get some information back, because apparently, you're no one. It's so rare not to know something. Who are you?"

"It doesn't matter," the Hunter told him, "because we're off. Nice to meet you. Come on." Before they could move, Suki had grabbed Hazel's arm, and two other corpses had taken hold of the Hunter.

"Tell me who you are," the man ordered.

The Hunter rolled her eyes at him. "Since that information's keeping us alive, I'm hardly going to say, am I."

The man shrugged. "Well, perhaps my Editor in Chief can convince you otherwise."

"And who's that?" she sighed.

"It may interest you to know that this is not the Fourth Great and Bountiful Human Empire," the man told them. "In fact, it's not actually human at all. It's merely a place where humans happen to live." There was an angry growling and snarling from the ceiling, and the man blanched. "Yeah. Yeah, sorry. It's a place where humans are allowed to live by kind permission of my client."

Hazel's eyes widened as she saw a giant lump hanging from the ceiling with a large, nasty-looking set of teeth. "What is that?"

The Hunter looked at the man incredulously. "You mean that thing's in charge of Satellite Five?"

"That thing, as you put it, is in charge of the human race. For almost a hundred years, mankind has been shaped and guided, his knowledge and ambition strictly controlled by its broadcast news, edited by my superior, your master, and humanity's guiding light, the mighty Jagrafess of the Holy Hadrojassic Maxarodenfoe." The man shrugged a little at the girls as they stared. "I call him Max."

***

Later, the Hunter and Hazel had been locked into hefty sets of manacles, still having to listen to the Editor as he continued on. "Create a climate of fear and it's easy to keep the borders closed. It's just a matter of emphasis. The right word in the right broadcast repeated often enough can destabilise an economy, invent an enemy, change a vote."

"So all the people on Earth are like slaves?" Hazel asked.

The Editor blinked. "Well, now, there's an interesting point. Is a slave a slave if he doesn't know he's enslaved?"

"Yes," the Hunter stated bluntly.

"Oh. I was hoping for a philosophical debate," the Editor frowned. "Is that all I'm going to get? Yes?"

"Yes," she deadpanned.

He pouted. "You're no fun."

She narrowed her eyes slightly. "Let me out of these manacles, you'll find out how much fun i am."

"Oh, she's tough, isn't she?" the Editor grinned. "But, come on. Isn't it a great system? You've got to admire it, just a little bit."

"You can't hide something on this scale," Hazel pointed out. "Somebody must have noticed."

"From time to time, someone, yes," the Editor admitted, "but the computer chip system allows me to see inside their brains. I can see the smallest doubt and crush it. Then they just carry on, living the life, strutting about downstairs and all over the surface of the Earth like they're so individual, when of course, they're not. They're just cattle." He smirked. "In that respect, the Jagrafess hasn't changed a thing."

Hazel bit her lip, seeing Cathica behind his back. "What about you? You're not a Jagrafess. You're human."

He shrugged. "Yeah, well, simply being human doesn't pay very well."

"But you couldn't have done this all on your own," Hazel pointed.

"No," the Editor admitted. "I represent a consortium of banks. Money prefers a long-term investment. Also, the Jagrafess needed a little hand to install himself."

"No wonder, a creature that size," the Hunter raised her eyebrows. "What's his life span?"

"Three thousand years," the Editor was happy to answer.

"That's one hell of a metabolism generating all that heat," the Hunter blew out a breath. "That's why Satellite Five's so hot. You pump it out of the creature, channel it downstairs. Jagrafess stays cool, it stays alive. Satellite Five is one great big life support system."

"But that's why you're so dangerous," the Editor shook his head. "Knowledge is power, but you remain unknown. Who are you?" He snapped his fingers, and energy surged through the manacles, making Hazel gasp in pain.

"Leave her alone!" the Hunter growled. "I'm the Hunter, she's Hazel Norton. We're nothing, we're just wandering."

"Tell me who you are!" the Editor ordered.

"I just said!" the Time Lady protested.

"Yes, but who do you work for? Who sent you? Who knows about us? Who exactly -?" He stopped. The Jagrafess growled. "Time Lord."

"What?" the Hunter blanched, her eyes flickering up to the Jagrafess.

"Oh, yes!" the Editor cheered. "The last of the Time Lords in her travelling machine. Oh, with her little human girl from long ago."

"You don't know what you're talking about," the Hunter stated uneasily.

"Time travel," the Editor teased.

"Someone's been telling you lies," she tried.

"Young master Adam Mitchell?" the Editor asked, calling up a hologram screen showing Adam in the broadcast chair with information streaming out of his head.

"Oh my God!" Hazel exclaimed. "His head!"

"What the hell's he done?" the Hunter demanded, her eyes wide and angry. "What the hell's he gone and done? They're reading his mind. He's telling them everything."

"And through him, I know everything about you," the Editor smirked. "Every piece of information in his head is now mine. And you have infinite knowledge, Hunter. The Human Empire is tiny compared to what you've seen in your T A R D I S," he spelled it out. "TARDIS."

"Well, you'll never get your hands on it," the Hunter told him defiantly. "I'll die first."

"Die all you like," the Editor shrugged. "I don't need you. I've got the key." Onscreen, the TARDIS key rose from Adam's pocket.

"You and your bloody boyfriends," the Hunter cursed.

"I'm gay; he's not my boyfriend!" Hazel shot back.

"Today, we are the headlines," the Editor decided. "We can rewrite history. We could prevent mankind from ever developing."

"And no one's going to stop you because you've bred a human race that doesn't bother to ask questions," the Hunter spat. "Stupid little slaves, believing every lie. They'll just trot right into the slaughter house if they're told it's made of gold."

The Editor looked around as the computer shut down, the TARDIS key dropping to the floor onscreen. "What's happening?" The Jagrafess growled threateningly. "Someone's disengaged the safety. Who's that?" He called the image up on the hologram.

"It's Cathica!" Hazel cheered.

"And she's thinking," the Hunter grinned. "She's using what she knows."

"Terminate her access," the Editor ordered.

"Everything I told her about Satellite Five. The pipes, the filters, she's reversing it. Look at that!" The Hunter looked over at where the icicles were starting to melt, smiling. "It's getting hot."

"I said, terminate. Burn out her mind," the Editor ordered. Suddenly, the consoles exploded, and the dead operators collapsed.

"She's venting the heat up here," the Hunter continued, telekinetically getting her sonic screwdriver out of her pocket and using it to free Hazel from her manacles. "The Jagrafess needs to stay cool and now it's sitting on top of a volcano."

"Yes, I'm trying, sir, but I don't know how she did it," the Editor protested, looking upwards. "It's impossible. A member of staff with an idea." He took Suki's seat, shoving her corpse out of the way, while Hazel grabbed the sonic screwdriver out of the air.

"What do I do?" she asked.

"Flick the switch," the Hunter told her, before yelling up at the Jagrafess as she was released. "Oi, mate, want to bank on a certainty? Massive heat in a massive body, massive bang. See you in the headlines!"

"Actually, sir, if it's all the same to you, I think I'll resign," the Editor decided. "Bye, then!" Sui grabbed his ankle and he fell. "Let go of me!"

The Hunter and Hazel ran for the broadcast as chunks of ice fell from the ceiling. They closed Cathica's portal and helped her into the lifts, just in time to avoid being splattered with exploded Jagrafess.

***

"We're just going to go," the Hunter told Cathica amongst people bustling around on Floor One Thirty Nine. "I hate tidying up. Too many questions. You'll manage."

"You'll have to stay and explain it," Cathica pleaded. "No one's going to believe me."

"Oh, they might start believing a lot of things now," the Hunter assured her. "The human race should accelerate. All back to normal."

"What about your friend?" Cathica asked, sensing she wasn't going to win that one.

"He's not my friend," the Hunter said simply, glaring at him, before walking over to him.

"I'm all right now," he told her. "Much better. And I've got the key. Look, it's - It all worked out for the best, didn't it? You know, it's not actually my fault, because you were in charge."

Still with Cathica, Hazel bit her lip as the Hunter shoved Adam into the TARDIS, ignoring his arguments. "Welp. I'd better go," she excused. "I've got to see this!" The TARDIS dematerialised as soon as she was inside, and rematerialised in Adam's living room.

"It's my house," Adam gasped as he was shoved out. "I'm home! Oh my God, I'm home! Blimey." He turned around to see the Hunter and Hazel, neither looking very impressed by him. "I thought you were going to chuck me out of an airlock."

"Oh, it's still early," the Hunter chuckled humourlessly. "Is there anything else you want to tell us?"

"No," Adam said quickly. "What do you mean?"

The Hunter rolled her eyes. "The archive of Satellite Five. One second of that message could've changed the world." She used her metal hand to crush the answering machine, making Adam swallow hard. "Oh, and whilst we're on the topic of phones, why don't you give Hazel hers back?"

"Wait, what?" Hazel checked her back pocket, then glared at Adam, holding out her hand expectantly. Sullenly, he handed the device over.

"That's it then," the Hunter nodded, satisfied. "See you."

Adam blinked. "How do you mean, see you?"

The Hunter looked at him like he was an idiot - which, to be fair, was her current opinion of him. "As in goodbye."

"But what about me?" he protested. "You can't just go. I've got my head. I've got a chip type two. My head opens."

"What, like this?" She snapped her fingers, and his portal opened.

"Don't." He closed it.

The Hunter's lips twitched. "Don't do what?" She snapped her fingers again.

"Stop it!" He closed it again.

Hazel sighed. "All right now, Art, that's enough. Stop it." The Hunter held up her hands, smirking.

"Thank you," Adam sighed in relief. Hazel snapped her fingers. "Oi!"

She shrugged, grinning unashamedly. "Sorry. Couldn't resist."

Adam glared, closing his head again.

"The whole of history could have changed because of you," the Hunter stated heavily.

"I just wanted to help," Adam said, his voice small.

"You were helping yourself," she told him.

"And I'm sorry," Adam told her. "I've said I'm sorry, and I am, I really am, but you can't just leave me like this."

"Yes I can," the Hunter told him, not even raising her voice. "'Cause if you show that head to anyone, they'll dissect you in seconds. You'll have to live a very quiet life. Keep out of trouble. Be average, unseen. Good luck."

"But I want to come with you," Adam pleaded.

"I only take the best. I've got Hazel," the Hunter shrugged.

"Oh yeah, daddy issues supreme, yeah, she's the best," Adam muttered under his breath.

The Hunter narrowed her eyes, but it was Hazel who spoke. "What did you just say to me?!" she demanded sharply, stepping forwards. When Adam didn't reply, his eyes wide in shock and fear, she backed down. "Yeah, that's what I thought. You're just a sad, scared, little boy who's too weak to stand up for anything. I pity you. Let's go, Art." The pair of them stepped into the TARDIS and flew away just as Adam's mother got home.

~~~

If you enjoyed, please like and/or reblog, and consider donating to my Kofi to help me keep writing! Thanks for reading :)

#doctor who #doctor who fanfiction #slow burn #oc insert #gxg #lgbt #thedoctorcried #series

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blakemetothemoon · 4 years

Text

Love in a Laundromat - SaifahZon, T, Ch. 2/?

Summary: Zon's favorite place is a laundromat. That is until a certain tall, handsome stranger steals his washer and seems hellbent on making Zon miserable.

Notes: Chapter 2! Unexpected Zon Angst! This is lookin’ like it’ll be longer than 4 chapters now oops

Read below or on ao3! :)

“You one hundred percent overreacted,” Tutor says after Zon recounts the whole encounter at the laundromat the night before.

It’s Friday afternoon and they’re doing their usual study session. The two of them are in different majors, but Zon struggles with some general studies and Tutor appreciates Zon’s company when studying gets too heavy and he needs Zon to make him laugh.

“It’s a washing machine, Zon.”

“Yeah, but I alw—”

“If you say ‘always’ one more time,” Tutor says, gaze steady and scary, “then I’m never tutoring you again.”

Zon’s mouth slams shut.

“And even though you're complaining, I know you're feeling guilty so just apologize to him,” Tutor continues, returning his attention to the math notes he’s reviewing. “You’re good at it because you have to do it so often.”

Zon huffs and pouts. What Tutor says is true. Zon is stubborn and childish, but he knows when he’s messed up. Apologies aren’t easy but he always feels worse if he doesn’t do them.

“Who knows if I’ll even see him again?” Zon mumbles, twirling his pen around his fingers. “That tall asshole giraffe might be scared off.”

For some reason that makes Tutor perk up. “How tall was he?”

Zon’s nose scrunches as he thinks back. “I don’t know? Like, 192 cm?”

“Was he handsome?”

The guy’s face instantly flashes through Zon’s mind. Not that it ever left. It’s annoying, actually, how he couldn’t stop thinking about that stupid, cocky smirk, that taunting eyebrow raise, those nice arms and pretty lips and—

“Definitely not,” Zon snaps back but can’t top the tip of his ears from turning red.

Tutor gives him a look that says he doesn’t believe him. “Did he tell you his name?"

“No. Why?”

The sudden mischievous glint in Tutor’s eye puts Zon on edge. “No reason. Oh, if you want to apologize you should buy him an iced coffee with cinnamon and vanilla syrup."

Then, before Zon can ask what the hell he’s talking about, Tutor uses the I’m-never-tutoring-you-again threat a second time and flicks Zon in the forehead to prove he’s serious.

The next Thursday, Zon arrives a little later than normal. He's decided to take Tutor's advice (like he always does) and stopped by the nearest coffee shop. He's partially hoping Tall Asshole Giraffe won't be there, but when Zon steps up to the door and sees the back of the guy's head, his heart skips a beat. Zon has to turn away to calm himself down, then it takes a good minute to psyche himself up again.

Juggling a laundry basket and a large iced coffee while opening the door is an unexpected challenge. Zon steps backwards, preparing to push it with his shoulder, when it suddenly opens. Zon’s balance is thrown off, but a hand, large and warm, catches his lower back and steadies him before he can fall.

Zon looks to see who caught him and immediately goes back to unsteady.

"Careful,” Tall Asshole Giraffe says, “or you'll throw laundry everywhere again."

Zon sputters. Tall Asshole Giraffe is so close that Zon's back hits the door when he jumps away.

"Don't make fun of me!"

Now at least Zon is annoyed enough to feel less stupid about the coffee. He shoves the drink into the guy's chest.

"Here!"

Tall Asshole Giraffe hesitantly takes the drink, staring at it with utter confusion. "What's this for?"

"It's an apology." Zon shuffles from one foot to the next. His grip on his basket is starting to shake but he forces himself to look at the other's face. "Sorry for yelling at you last week."

The guy goes speechless for only half a second, but it’s long enough for Zon to feel proud he isn’t the one caught off guard for once.

“Is it poisoned?” Tall Asshole Giraffe asks.

“No!” Zon says, louder than he means to. “I don’t know how to poison things!”

With that Zon shoves his way forward, purposely putting his laundry basket between them so they don’t touch. He storms over towards his usual washer. Annoyance is already rising because he knows the asshole is probably using it.

Except the machine currently shaking and buzzing isn’t Zon’s; it’s the one next to it, placed between his and the wall.

“Wait…,” Zon says and swirls around, sneakers squeaking. He stabs a finger towards his washer, currently not in use. “Why aren’t you using my...this machine?”

Tall Asshole Giraffe shrugs and takes a sip of his drink. His eyes light up like a puppy. Guess Tutor’s input on the coffee order had been bang on. “I thought about it, but you seem to have a powerful connection to it.”

“What the hell, don’t make it weird!”

“Hey, hey, I get it, promise. We all have something like that.” Tall Asshole Giraffe takes another drink and smirks around the straw. “It was pretty fun to make you mad, though.”

The smirk sends Zon somewhere between angry and swooning. The childish side takes over and he yanks open the washer’s door, pointedly ignoring the laugh his annoyed, puffed out cheeks earn him.

It isn't until Zon is shoving his clothes into his washing machine that Tall Asshole Giraffe says, "I’m Saifah, by the way.”

‘Saifah’ is a much... nicer name than Tall Asshole Giraffe. Zon nods, trying to be casual despite the way his goddam heart jumps again at the new information. “I’m Zon.”

"I know."

Zon turns his head so fast he's pretty sure he gets whiplash. "You know?"

"You're Tutor's friend."

"I am?” Zon shakes his head, trying to get his bearings back and not sound like a complete moron. “I mean, yeah, I am. And you...You know Tutor?"

“We’re pretty close since we're in the same major.”

That gives Zon pause. Saifah... now that he’s heard it, that name does sound familiar. Then why hadn’t Saifah introduced himself the first two times they met, if he knew who Zon was? And why didn’t Tutor...

Zon glances at the coffee in Saifah's hand. Iced with vanilla syrup and cinnamon.

Oh, that little shit. Tutor is about to get fifteen texts. They will be single, angry emojis, and Zon hopes they wake Fighter up so that Tutor has to deal with his grumpy ass.

Saifah rests his shoulder against the empty machine next to Zon's. Even leaning like that, Saifah's a head taller than Zon. A mischievous glimmer makes Saifah’s eyes damn near sparkly. "I've seen you around."

Zon’s mouth drops open and his cheeks are going to be permanently stained red at this point. He starts to stutter out some response that was about to be far from eloquent. But then Saifah raises the iced coffee to his mouth again and holds Zon’s gaze as he wraps his lips around the straw—

Music suddenly bursts from Zon's pocket. Zon has never been more grateful for a phone call in his life.

Of course, Saifah quirks a smile when Zon fumbles to answer it without even checking the caller ID.

Then the voice on the other end says Zon’s name and he very much wishes he had checked it.

“Hi, Mom,” Zon replies.

“Your sister mentioned you updated your story yesterday.”

Welp, straight to the point like Mom always was.

Did you even read the chapter? Zon thinks. But he bites the words back like he always does. He used to ask but the answers have been, “I didn’t have time” or “It’s not the genre I enjoy” for so long, it’s pointless to hope for a different answer now.

“Mom, it’s late,” Zon groans. Sometimes he wishes he hadn’t inherited his mother’s night owl tendencies. If he hadn’t, he would be sleeping right now and not having this repetitive conversation they've had a hundred times before. “Do we need to do this right now?”

“Don’t try to hang up on me. I know you do laundry on Thursday nights and that laundromat is always empty, so I know you’re alone.”

Zon’s eyes shift to Saifah before he can stop himself. Zon is half-expecting to make eye contact with Saifah and his heart speeds up at the possibility, but the other boy is playing a game on his phone. Whatever’s happening must be challenging, because there’s a crease in his brow and his lips are pursed in a pout. Zon can’t stop staring at it, wondering what else Saifah’s lips can do—

“Zon!”

“Uh, yes!”

Oh, great. Now Saifah is looking at him. Zon blushes so hot he can’t even offer an awkward smile before turning away.

“Are you listening?” his mom demands instead of asks.

“Yes,” Zon says again and sighs. “Mom—”

“Honey,” his mom interrupts, “I know you enjoy writing, but you need to focus on your studies.”

And there it is. Only one minute, forty-three seconds in, according to the call time when Zon glances at it. Top three quickest times. Impressive.

“You’re going to law school because you’re good at arguing.” His mother laughs like her pride at that part of Zon should soothe away the sting of her words. “Focus on your strengths, alright? The semester is almost over, so you’ll have plenty of time for...” She hums, searching for the right term, “hobbies then.”

A hobby. That’s all they want Zon’s writing to be. That’s all they believe it ever can be.

Not like his sister. Zol is popular. Her stories get millions of views and she can run ads on them and she’s already making an impressive amount of money. The comments are always positive and “can’t wait for more.” His parents share links to her stories on facebook. When Zon goes home for dinner a few times a month, the conversation is always Zol describing the next chapter or where she gets inspiration from. He loves his sister. For siblings so close in age, they get along better than most. Sure, they bicker and Zol tattles on him more than she should, but they would go to the ends of the earth for each other. But it still hurts, knowing his parents are so enthusiastic about her writing when they haven’t bothered reading a chapter of anything Zon’s written in, what, two years?

And Zon doesn’t dare to bring up to his mom and dad about how he’s writing lyrics now and even sings made-up melodies sometimes. Both of his parents are musicians and Zon’s heart can’t handle the inevitable disappointment when they tell him his songwriting and singing should remain a “hobby,” too.

“Okay,” Zon finally replies. Somehow he manages to keep his voice from shaking. All he wants is for this conversation to be over. “Yeah, I understand. Love you, too. Goodnight.”

Zon’s finger is still lingering over the screen of his phone when Saifah asks, “You okay?”

Zon jolts. He forgot he isn’t alone. And he has tears in the corners of his eyes. And he’s seriously about to fucking cry in a laundromat in front of someone like Saifah who is probably judging him.

Shit, ever since Saifah appeared, Zon’s done nothing but embarrass himself.

Though it’s not like Zon’s life was anything but an embarrassment before.

A deep breath, then two. Zon wipes the tears away with the sleeve of his t-shirt. He quickly bends down to grab his headphones and notebook out of his bag, then settles down onto the bench without a single glance Saifah's way.

“Yeah, I'm fine," Zon says. He clears his throat. "Thanks though.”

There’s a moment of silence where Zon wonders if Saifah will make fun of him like he’s done the last two times they met. Zon really doesn’t think he can handle it and he just apologized for yelling at Saifah, he really doesn’t want to do it again. But his mother’s words have made him feel cornered and on edge, and he always lashes out when this happens.

Saifah picks up on Zon’s mood and doesn’t press the topic further. With soft eyes and a nod, he leans back against the wall, one long leg crossing over the other. He busies himself with something else on his phone and leaves Zon to his music and notepad.

Except Zon’s notepad taunts him. When he tries to scribble words, nothing comes except more tears blurring his vision. Each stroke of his pen adds to the pressure on Zon’s chest. An unrelenting tightness that makes it difficult to breathe, makes him want to run and hide away forever.

Zon spends the rest of the night with his notebook shut tight in his lap and tries to drown his thoughts in music until the dryer finally signals it’s done.

#SaifahZon #ZonSaifah #SaiZon #Why R U #why r u the series #why r u?#blakemetothemoon #fic #fanfic

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im-a-star-boy · 4 years

Text

Toe Socks

So it appears I may be confined to posting the crackhead fics that @fandomsumthing and I write. Enjoy this... thing.

.oOo.oOo.oOo.

Summary: Miles gets an idea and Peter decides he will disown Miles until he repents for his sins.

Word Count: 2375

Date of Completion: Sunday, November 17th, 2019

.oOo.oOo.oOo.

Proud would be an understatement for how Miles was feeling. Or had taken him an hour to get the measurements correct and another to sow it. Usually, Peter would be the one making the suits but this idea had just come to him and there was no time to ask Peter. After all, it was passed one am so he’d be asleep anyways. Probably.

Now, what was it that made Miles miss out on a full night's sleep? Toe socks on his spider suit. Of course, he made another suit altogether because he didn’t want to ruin the one Peter had fixed so many times. Since he had to remake the suit altogether, he didn’t add as much tech into it as he usually did. While he created the suit, he couldn’t help but wonder what Peter would think of his ingenious idea. He felt himself begin to laugh, as he realized he wouldn’t be getting any sleep whatsoever that night. Eh, it’d be worth it. By the time he finished the suit, he was nearly late to class. He put the new suit in his bag and sprinted to Horizon High.

“Peter!” He called, seeing the ever-so-familiar red hoodie.

Peter looked up and smiled as he saw his spider-bro. “Hey, Miles!” He called.

“Dude, I gotta show you something!” Miles said, his excitement showing through.

“Okay.” Peter was intrigued by his enthusiasm. Miles motioned him to follow and so he did.

They were in Miles’ lab and Miles took off his bag and opened it. Peter watched as Miles took out his Spider suit.

“What’s so important about the suit?” Peter asked, crossing his arms with an amused smile.

“Look at the feet,” Miles said. Peter looked down at the feet and his smile disappeared. What replaced it was confusion then disgust mixed with fear.

“Miles,” Peter said, disappointment dripped from his voice. “I am going to walk out of this room for one minute, and when I walk back in, I expect that cursed object to be in the trash or on fire. Preferably both.”

Miles laughed, not taking Peter’s threats seriously. But Peter soon turned and walked out of the room. Miles continued to laugh, progressively laughing harder. After the fated minute, Peter walked back in. “Miles get rid of it!” He shouted, giving the suit a disgusted look.

Miles continued to wheeze. “Peter- but- it’s great- oh my god I can’t I-” Miles trailed off, nearly falling over with laughter.

“Miles I swear to god I’m burning it,” Peter shouted, running to grab the suit.

As he reached for it, Miles grabbed it, holding it close to his chest, still laughing like a maniac. “Peter- how can you hate this?! It’s amazing!” He shouted.

“Miles I swear to god get RID of it!”

Before the two could continue their argument, the warning bell rang, warning them that they had 5 minutes to get to class. “We’ve got patrol tonight. I expect that- that THING to be dead and gone by then.” Peter warned. Peter then stormed out, catching Anya’s attention. Miles walked out right after him, but Peter speeds up.

“What’s up with him?” Anya asked as he caught up to Miles.

“He doesn’t understand true brilliance,” Miles said simply.

The whole day was spent with Peter glaring at Miles as a warning sign every chance he got. It didn’t go unnoticed by Anya and Gwen. Miles saw them, but he didn’t care. It had taken him hours to make that one suit and he’d be damned if he didn’t wear it at least once. Plus, Peter has done some pretty cursed things in and out of the suit, how was this any different?

The time rolled around to their patrol and Miles had got into the suit. It felt slightly weird a first, but it also felt freeing in a strange way. He swung to the building where he planned to meet Peter. “Hey, Spidey!” He greeted happily.

Peter simply crossed his arms and glared at him. “Is the suit destroyed?” He asked, his voice unusually stoic.

Miles grinned giddily under the mask. “Nope!” He shouted, wiggling his toes.

Peter looked down to see Miles was actually wearing. How on God’s green earth is he wearing that cursed suit?! “Kid- I refuse to be seen with you while wearing that suit. You can either go change now, or I’ll never forgive you.” Peter replied, only half-joking.

“Come on, Spidey, it isn’t that bad!”

Peter simply replied with swinging away, leaving Miles alone on the rooftop. As Miles caught up and tried to get Peter to talk to him, Peter remained silent. Even as Miles began to poke fun at his and Harry’s relationship, bringing up more embarrassing moments.

There was the sound of bank alarms below them going off. They jumped down from the nearest building and ran to the scene. There were two small guys holding bags and buff guy holding a safe.

Spider-Man took on the small guys first, getting them webbed to a wall in a matter of seconds. Kid Arachnid took on the bigger guy who was just refusing to go down.

“I could use your help Spidey!” Miles called from the man’s back, but quickly getting off as the man swatted at him.

“Get rid of the suit,” Peter said with his arms crossed.

“No!” Miles said jumping on top of the guy only to be flung off again.

“Then you can handle him by yourself.” Peter then leaned against a street light, his arms still crossed, and watched as Miles struggled. The guy didn’t have superpowers so he knew Miles could handle it by himself. If the guy did display any superpowers then he would leave Miles to tending with the small guys.

Miles knew deep down that Peter would never put him in a situation where he'd get hurt. But right now it really felt like Peter was betraying him. "REALLY FEELING LIKE YOU DONT LIKE ME MUCH ANYMORE."

After a massive power struggle, Miles managed to pin the man to the wall. Peter was watching him closely with his arms crossed, while Miles struggled to catch his breath. "Are you ever gonna get over this?" Miles asked.

Peter just squinted, before turning and swinging away. Miles let out a heavy sigh, before swinging after him. "Come on man!"

“Dude, we’re partners!” Miles whined when he finally reached Peter. Peter didn’t respond to him, getting Miles worried. “We are partners, aren’t we?”

“As long as you’re wearing or have that thing in your possession, no fucking way,” Peter said landing on a building.

“It’s just a suit! You’re overreacting!” Miles complained as he landed next to him.

“That is not a suit! That is monstrous! If you want to be Kid Arachnid then you’ll get rid of that thing!” Peter yelled.

Miles threw his hand on his chest dramatically. "You don't mean that!" He shouted.

Peter stopped for a moment before making a so-so motion. "I refuse to make eye contact with you until that thing is gone," Peter said firmly.

"You don't mean that. "

~~~One Week Later~~~

"DUDE IT'S BEEN A WEEK GET OVER IT." Miles screeched.

"NEVER MORALES," Peter shouted back.

Gwen and Anya watched the sight before them. It had been like this all week, and they've gone to both Miles and Peter to find out what the hell was going on. All they got out of Miles was, "Peter's refusing to accept brilliance when it slaps him in the face." And all they got out of Peter was an irritated, "he has dishonored his own name and I refuse to speak to him until he apologizes for the sin he has created."

“AT LEAST LOOK AT ME!” Miles begged, trying to get in front of Peter. Peter faced a corner as he tried.

“NO,” Peter said firmly.

“I swear- I WILL CRAWL BETWEEN YOUR LEGS PARKER!” Miles screamed from behind him. Knowing the Miles was a hundred percent serious about, Peter covered his eyes.

“I think we should call Harry,” Gwen whispered to Anya.

“Just Harry? How about the Avengers.” Anya said, taking out her phone and pressing Harry’s contact. They held the speaker away from them so Harry could hear what was going on. As soon as he picked up he was greater with screaming.

“TAKE YOUR HANDS OFF YOUR EYES AND LOOK AT ME PARKER!” Miles yelled, trying to pull Peter’s hands off his face.

“GET YOUR GRUBBY BABY HANDS OFF OF ME MORALES,” Peter yelled back.

"Umm, what's happening?" Harry began, sounding confused.

"We were hoping you could tell us that. Peter and Miles have been at each other's throats for the past week. Do you know what happened?" Anya asked.

"This is the first I've heard about this, so no. I'll head over to try and smooth things out, are you guys at Horizon?" He asked.

"Yeah. Thanks, Harry." Gwen sighed.

"No problem. I'll be over there in a bit."

The line went dead as Anya looked up in time to witness Peter throw Miles over his shoulder while screeching "YEET".

Miles screamed as he hit the floor before shouting, "PETER!" As the boy in question sprinted out of the room.

He made a mad dash down the hallway, Miles following right behind him. Peter was so close to screaming because Miles could jump and grab him at any moment.

“We should probably get them back into this room before a teacher or other student sees,” Gwen said.

“Yeah, we should.” Anya sighed and got ready to chase, but Miles ran back into the room screaming.

“HE TRIED TO TAZE ME!” He yelled, hiding behind a desk. Gwen and Anya stood ready to face Peter, but he didn’t come.

"He… he has a taser?" Gwen asked, surprised by the concept.

"YEAH!" Miles screamed.

Gwen and Anya shared a confused look. "Believe me, Peter won't be chasing me." Miles scowled.

"What did you do to him." Anya snapped.

"YOU WOULDN'T UNDERSTAND!" Miles cried out.

“PUT ME DOWN, THEOPOLIS.” The three heard from outside the door. “I WILL TAZE YOU!”

“No, you won’t. Hey, could someone open the door?” Harry called from outside. Gwen opened the door to Harry with Peter slung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Peter was slapping Harry’s back, enough to sting but not bruise.

Anya watched in amazement as Harry plopped down on the couch and held Peter close. Despite his angry… hissing, after a few moments, Peter went quiet. Still looking angry, but not kicking and hissing. "Okay. Care to enlighten me as to what happened?" Harry asked, still not releasing the angry spider.

Peter made an irritated noise before saying, "Miles made something cursed."

When Harry gave him a confused look, Peter whispered quietly to him what happened. Gwen and Anya just barely couldn't pick up what he said, when Harry replied. "Oooh, oh…" Before making a face. "Hey, Gwen? Anya? Could you two leave for a moment? It's nothing important, just something we'd rather not broadcast, you know?" Harry asked.

The two looked at each other, suddenly even more lost than before, but nodded. "Alright.. we'll go."

They left and as soon as the door shut, Harry began to laugh.”Miles, what the actual fuck?” Harry said once able to get out his laughter.

“It’s pure genius, thank you very much,” Miles said crossing his arms.

“I hope the Statue of Liberty throws her torch at that..that thing.” Peter hissed.

“Can I see it?” Harry asked. He was done right curious to see how cursed this suit was.

“Gladly,” Miles said happily.

He brought out the suit and showed them. Harry cringed and began laughing. "Miles, as much as I want to take your side in this argument... I just can't. You have to admit that is cursed." He said, shaking his head.

"It isn't though!" Miles defended, "Come on, we've made worse suits, Peter!"

"No, we haven't! This is where I draw the line!" Peter screeched, shooting up and almost headhunting Harry's jaw.

"Come on Pete, as horrible as it is, you gotta forgive Miles. It's not good for your team dynamic." Harry sighed.

Peter made a face. "I'm willing to if you get rid of that thing." Peter hissed.

“Okay, but what if we got into a situation where we had to get you really angry to get back to yourself?” Miles said, trying desperately to keep the suit.

“It won’t happen, now give it to me so I can burn it.” Peter held out his hand.

“Peter, no-“ Miles began.

“Give it here or I’ll out you as Kid Arachnid,” Peter said in a cold voice.

Miles gasped. "You wouldn't dare."

"Try me, bitch." Peter hissed.

"Woah okay, language!" Harry shouted, putting his hand over Peter's mouth.

When Peter licked his hand in an attempt to get Harry to move it, Harry seemed unfazed. He gave Peter a look. "Peter we've had sex and you honestly think licking my hand is gonna make me move?" Harry deadpanned.

Miles flushed before shouting, "EW DIDN'T NEED TO KNOW THAT!"

Harry gave him a look. "Did that honestly come as a surprise to you?"

"CHANGE THE SUBJECT, PLEASE!" Miles screeched.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Okay, well, Miles, please just cooperate with this," Harry begged lightly.

Miles huffed, before turning around and throwing it in the trash can. "Happy?" He growled, looking unhappy.

"Yes," Peter growled, pushing Harry's hand away.

“Now will you talk to me?” Miles said, now hopeful.

“Starting with tomorrow. I gotta do something tonight.” Peter said, get up and take out the suit from the trash can. “It’s bonfire night.”

Peter put the suit in his bag then left. Miles felt sadness in his soul as he watched his favorite suit leave, then he remembered. He still had the measurements. This time, however, he won’t let Peter see it. Harry watched as Miles pulled out his phone. "You're about to make that suit again, aren't you?" Harry asked.

Miles looked up, startled by the fact he was still here. "Yeah.. don’t tell Peter."

Harry laughed and stood up. As he walked by, he tapped Miles' shoulder. "Friendly word of advice, make it pajamas."

#parksborn #fanfic #MSM #MSM2017 #marvel's spider-man #spider-man #harry osborn #gwen stacy #miles morales #peter parker #anya corazon #slightly cursed concept

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banashee · 4 years

Link

I’m on a roll today, so there is another bingo square of the @badthingshappenbingo

Prompt: buried alive.

Trigger warnings for the obvious: survival horror, panic, trauma and anxiety. Also blood and injury

*+~

Trapped in the dark

One moment, Tony is throwing back drinks amongst a group of strangers, fake-laughing at some shitty joke, then he’s starting to feel dizzy. What happens next, he’s got no idea, but the glass slips out of his hand, shattering on the floor and spilling champagne everywhere.

Tony blacks out before he even hits the floor.

When he wakes up in a small, dark room, he manages to remain completely calm.

The sensation of coming back to consciousness in a strange place is something that Tony is getting depressingly used to, so he tries to stretch out his limbs in preparation to get the fuck out of - wherever he is. He doesn’t know. It’s hot and sticky in here, and there is already sweat pooling down his face and into the collar of his shirt.

And now that he tried to move, he’s realizing just how tight this space must be. His feet and hands collide with walls before he can even stretch out completely - which is concerning, given that he’s not especially tall in the first place. But it tells him that he is trapped in a box - carefully, very carefully, he does not think the word “coffin” because then he’ll freak out right away.

But it’s essentially what this is - him trapped in a fucking coffin. Maybe or maybe not buried somewhere. he doesn’t know - yet. He’ll have to find out, sooner rather than later.

Panic rises up in his throat, heart beating fast but he forces himself to remain as calm as humanly possible.

If he had any time or air to spare, he’d have laughed out loud in desperation.

He’s read so many books, seen so many movies where people have been buried alive, and yet, despite the shit he’s lived through, Tony would never have thought he’d have to experience this first hand. And he really, really doesn’t want to.

“Stay calm. Don’t waste any air. Get out. You can fall apart later.” he thinks to himself, and it sounds easy enough in his head. He knows it’s not, but thinking about that right now will not be helpful in any way.

Moving is hard, but Tony is flexible.

He manages to get off the buckle of his belt - a big, heavy and pretentiously expensive thing. Solid. It’s the best tool he’s got on him right now. Whoever put him here didn’t think to remove it - thank fuck. He puts it down under himself to keep it safe and in reach, then he pushes off his suit jacket. Once he got that, he’s sweating even more but Tony still keeps his breathing slow and even. He can do this.

Pulling up his shirt over his head is not easy in here, but it’s doable. Then he knots it together at the top so the small space under the fabric protects him from inhaling any dirt.

Once he’s got a plan and working on it, it is kind of remarkable how calm Tony is.

He’s determined to get out, if only out of sheer spite, just so he can wave his middle fingers at the bastards who did this in a final giant “Fuck you!” before he makes his way back home.

Home.

The other Avengers are hopefully missing him by now - they must be, because otherwise it’ll be one hell of a lot longer until he gets away from here.

One time, just one goddamn time he doesn’t pack his frickin’ suit and see where it lands him - buried alive fuck knows where.

Tony swears he’ll implant the thing into himself once he’s out of here so this kind of shit will never happen again - and if it does, he’ll be able to blast himself out in a matter of seconds, instead of having to blindly hack his way out of a wooden box with his belt buckle, dirt crumbling through the openings he created.

Wriggling like a worm, and pushing the soil down to his feet, he manages to stay on top of the whole thing. He kicks back the earth and digs his way up with bare hands. He can feel the pain, blood running down his hands and fingernails ripping away. He doesn’t care and keeps going.

Every muscle in his body is straining, and when he looks back onto the situation later, he wouldn’t be able to tell where that strength and will to keep going even came from.

But he makes it.

After minutes of agony, finally, he can smell the fresh air from outside, and it’s the most precious thing he’s ever smelled in his entire life.

Gasping for air, he pulls his shirt back down, and collapses on the ground, just breathing for a little while, keeping the rising panic in check. He’s in a forest, but he’s able to hear the traffic of a nearby street.

Pulling himself together and up from the soft, earthen ground, he staggers towards the noise, straining his ears and looking around him to make sure no one is following or waiting for him.

Tony doesn’t think about how terrifying he must look, covered in dirt, clothes ripped and with no shoes on, bleeding profusely from his hands and who knows where else. It doesn’t even register to him, too relieved he actually managed to get out, until he enters the nearest gas station. The cashier looks at him in horror, dropping canned drinks on the counter and almost shierking,

“Oh my god, are you okay, Sir? Do you need me to call 911?”

He’s sorry for scaring the poor girl - she looks barely older than 20 at the most, and having a dirty, bleeding dude stumble through the door in a night shift can’t be a pleasant experience.

“No, no 911. But could I use a phone, please? And some water. Water would be great.” he rasps out, and she’s already handing him a bottle of water before he can finish.

“Thanks, uh-” he squints at her name tag, “Joyce. Thank you.” His voice is raspy, and he’s coughing heavily from his dry throat.

Joyce smiles hesitantly, offering the foot stool she just used to stand on while filling up the top shelves for him to sit on, and a few paper towels so he doesn’t bleed all over the place. Ah, shit.

“Sorry for the mess.” Tony says quietly, and drains the rest of the water. He doesn’t ask for another bottle, but Joyce hands him one anyway, clearly worried he’ll die or pass out on her.

“What happened to you?” she asks hesitantly, and he cringes, working hard to keep the rising panic at bay.

“Life.” he says, and then, after a pause. “I don’t remember much but I got out. Kinda need a phone though - I must have lost mine. Didn't have it on me when I woke up. A shame really, it was a prototype… Gotta have to start all over again… Ah, thanks.” he adds, taking the phone from her with a small smile and dials the number.

The sound of JARVIS voice is the best thing he’s heard all day. He interrupts his automatic greeting, simply calling his name and the AI sounds just as relieved to hear him like any human would.

“Sir, I am currently tracking your location and sending the coordinates to the team - they’re already on their way and looking for you. We are all very worried.”

“Thanks, J. You’re the best.”

“May I please connect you to Captain Rogers, Sir? The team is very concerned about your well-being.”

Tony slumps back on his seat, leaning against the counter.

“Yeah, sure.” A second later, Steve's voice replaces JARVIS on the other end, and he sounds equal parts worried and relieved.

“Tony, are you okay? Where are you?”

“Hey, good to hear you, too. Okay-ish. Gas-station. No idea where, but you’ll get coordinates from JARVIS.”

“Okay, okay. We’re on our way, we’ll be there soon. Sit tight, yeah?”

“Not going anywhere. Thanks, Cap.” he’s tired, and only notices his slip up when Joyce looks at him, understanding dawning on her face.

When Tony hangs up and gives the phone back to her, she looks shocked.

“You are-”

“Yeah. Hi.”

Joyce blinks. Then, slowly, nods to herself and leaves it at that - Tony is eternally grateful for it. He doesn’t have it in him to deal with anything else right now.

“You have someone come get you?” she finally asks, and he nods.

“They’re on their way.”

A surprisingly short while later, a car speeds up onto the property and stops right in front of the door - Tony feels relief when a familiar redhead stalks out of it, rushing in and quickly crossing the room as soon as she spots him.

“Fancy seeing you here, Nat.”

Tony is ashamed to say that his voice is holding a slight shake by now - he’s not sure if he’ll fall apart or fall asleep first - he kind of hopes for sleep, first. He’s really not up for dealing with panic attacks on top of everything else right now.

“Likewise.” Natasha carefully pulls him up, concern clear on her face. “You look like shit.”

“Well, yeah.” He slumps into her, and she puts an protective arm around his slightly larger form - it doesn’t look like he’ll be able to do much at this point. He’s really, really glad to see her, though.

“Thank you for your help.” Natasha tells Joyce, acknowledging her with a small nod and the hint of a smile. It’s not that she means to be rude or dismissive - quite the contrary, she is immensely thankful for the young woman's help, but she wants to get her friend home and to medical care as soon as possible.

About a week later, Joyce will receive a check with more 0’s than she’s ever seen at once in the mail. With it, a handwritten note with only a few words on it:

“Thank you for helping me. Let me know if I can ever help you.” followed by an email address - she’ll stare at it in stunned surprise, not knowing what to even think about it all but keeping the letter in a safe place.

When they sit in the car, Natasha helps Tony with the seat belt when his bloody fingers seem to give up - grabbing anything just hurts too much at this point and he’s sluggish and exhausted.

Then they’re on the way to the jet where the team is already waiting, and when Natasha looks at him, something dark and predatory creeps into her eyes. She doesn’t need to be told what happened - the state of Tony, his clothes, and his hands tells her everything she needs to know.

Unfortunately, she knows exactly what it looks like when a person needs to free themselves from a buried box in the ground - it had been part of her training when she was young. She still wakes up in cold sweat when she dreams about it, decades later.

“Who did this to you?” Natasha asks, tone carefully even.

Tony looks over at her, heavy lidded and too worn out even for panic - he’ll have to deal with that later, but that’s okay - at least, he’ll be home or at least surrounded by friends then.

“I don’t know their names.” he tells her truthfully. If he did, he would have told her, knowing that it would be their death sentence as soon as Natasha, or Clint for that matter, would find out who and where they are.

They still find out later, because they’re good at this kind of stuff, and the people who are responsible for hurting Tony end up in a cold grave in the ditch somewhere.

Tony is not entirely sure what it says about him that he feels nothing but relief at the death of three men, and the fact that he can call two of the most dangerous people in the world part of his family.

Then again, if this kind of thing ever happened to any of them and he’d manage to get his hands on whoever did it - he, too, would be capable of cold blooded murder.

As it is, being home and knowing the team is close makes him sleep easier at night, even when he’s still plagued with insomnia and nightmares. Only now, the horrors in his mind wear the face of a dark, tight space and the smell of dirt added to it.

It leaves him gasping for air, clawing at his throat and panicking for hours on end.

But the comfort of a warm and clean bed, plenty of breathable air and the occasional company of a friend next to him help more than he could ever tell them.

He tightly holds onto them, and breathing is a whole lot easier then.

*+~

Square 4: Buried alive

#banashee writes #Bad things happen bingo #marvel fanfiction #whump #tony stark whump #tw blood and injury #tw panic #tw survival horror #angst

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celawrites · 4 years

Text

Day 18

When I wake up in the morning, the day already feels weird. While this could just be me being paranoid, I honestly don’t like the feeling. It’s a Sunday, which means a hangout session with my public school friends, specifically the movie group.

As expected, the groupchat is blowing up with ideas.

Tired: GOOD MORNING WHO’S READY FOR HELL ON EARTH

Clown: SHUT UP IT’S 8AM ES ISN’T EVEN AWAKE YET

Mist: Then we plan without her lMAO

Clown: Where do we go today?

Tired: Park. Or we can find a cute coffee shop and chill

Clown: You’re driving if we do

Tired: sMH

Mist: Roasting waters. I need a new water bottle

Clown: Alright. @ Tired you’re driving

Tired: I hate you

Clown: LOve you too <3

Seen by 2

As I dress and prepare to leave the room, I notice rustling outside my window. And lo and behold.

“sUN?? Z???”

“Uh. Shoot she wasn’t supposed to see us. HI?” Z panics, nearly falling off the tree.

I pull open the window and let the two in.

“Why?”

“Well an anonymous source told us that you’d be going on a date today and we were hoping to get material on this”

“???”

“Don’t ask me. Z wanted to crash at your house for today”

“Then call me like a normal person?? I have plans????”

“Then we’re crashing your plans as well. Don’t even think about going on a date today”

“hUH????”

“No going out young lady”

“I’m single?????”

“Wait. Then Estelle lied?”

“Uh. I guess?”

“You don’t have a date today????”

“Nope”

“Then where are you going? yOU have plans?”

“Hanging out with friends. How’d you guys get here anyway?”

“Our parents dropped us off”

“And you sneak in through the tree?”

“WHy not?”

“Money??? What if you broke the window???”

“Then it’s a win win”

“hA?”

“You gotta stay and guard your house, and you won’t end up on a date”

“I can’t with you”

“Who are you hanging out with later?”

“A couple of old friends. We try to hang out every weekend”

“Can we join today”

“No Z. I’m gonna drive you guys home and then I’m gonna hang out with them.”

“No fair!”

“Says the one who broke into my bedroom”

“Oh by the way. You have a very nice figure”

Time stops. I malfunction, and Sun braces himself for Z’s demise.

“yOU SAW ME CHANGE?”

“IT WAS AN ACCIDENT”

“OH SO SNEAKING UP THE TREE TO MY BEDROOM WINDOW WAS AN ACCIDENT TOO?”

“I’M SORRY”

“No you’re not”

“No I’m not. If you weren’t in love with my brother, I would’ve 11/10 asked you out by now. Like who in their right mind would leave a person like you hanging?”

“Sibling goals. I’d steal the man if I had a sister with no mercy”

“Maybe I should take you on a date then”

“Aren’t you a little too young for her?”

“GeTTING PROTECTIVE NOW AREN’T WE?” Z cackled.

“I mean last time I checked, she was into men older than her”

“You make sound like I’m attracted to 40 year old men or something”

“Are you not?”

“I don’t know darling. I mean I do love you after all. I’m pretty sure your age is somewhere around 40 mentally”

“I will actually choke you”

“That’s kinky” Z and I pipe up in sync.

“Both of you are disgusting”

We only snicker in response.

“Wanna go somewhere before I have to kick you both out?”

“Hm? Sure”

“Can we go shopping?”

“Disgusting”

“yOU’RE A GIRL?”

“sO?”

“I thOUGHT GIRLS LIKED SHOPPING”

“I SWEAR-”

“Enough. We can go to the mall and check out anything new. Both of you” he glares at both of us. “No chaos.”

“bUT”

“No buts”

“I hate you”

“Can we throw him out the window?”

“Oh yeah sounds nice”

“You two are insane”

“Only with you”

“What have I gotten myself into” he mumbled.

The three of us walked over to the mall, and started wandering around.

“Cress.” Z grins.

“Hm?”

“Can we dress you up?”

“No”

“bUT”

“No”

“One outfit. plEAAASE”

“Last time you turned me into an E-girl, and the time before that I was transformed into a vsco girl, and the time before that you turned me into an ABG. No more”

“Please? I’ll pick the comfiest sweater”

“We already have a school uniform. What’s the point in having a closet when you don’t need one?”

“I donno. Ask Pebble”

“Please? I’ll pick an outfit that actually suits your vibe this time?” I glare at him.

“You have 10 minutes to put an outfit together for me. No more than that”

“yES. I LOVE YOU”

“Love you too now get going”

Z runs off to grab clothes and Sun sighs next to me.

“You really trust him after you almost ended up in a bikini last time huh?”

“My clothes are starting to wear off at the seams, I need a couple new pieces of clothing.”

“So you trust my brother with it?”

“yeP”

“Don’t blame me when you end up in a tube top and butt shorts or smth”

“I mean I am hanging out with my friends today, it doesn’t hurt to look good”

“And get harassed?”

I pause for awhile. “No. But I trust him”

As I crouch down on the floor, I let the scene before me sink in. I’m crouching next to the wall, and endless rows of clothing racks limit my vision. The floor is a pale marble, and the walls are a quaint shade of baby blue. Sun is on his phone, probably looking at science facts again, and in the corner of my eye, I see Z running over.

“I got it!”

“What’d you get me?”

“Ok so. I got this pure black hoodie, it’s the last one and your size. I also got you a pair of black shorts. So it’ll look like you’re in just a hoodie. It works right?”

“I did need shorts. Hm. I’ll try it on”

“Of course!” I grab the clothes and head over to the nearest dressing room, the two tailing behind me.

When I enter and change. I find that the outfit is nice and cozy. I smile, knowing that I’ll just rip off the tag and pay at the cashier. But for the sake of decency, I grab my clothes and head out.

“You look cute!” Z grins.

“You sure you’re not just saying that because you put this together?” I tease.

“Of course not! You look cute!” Z beams. Sun only hums in agreement.

After paying for the clothes, I text into the groupchat that I’d be driving there myself and drove the two home.

“Call me if you need to wiggle your way out of anything” Sun reminds.

“Or me if you don’t wanna bother him!”

“Yeah yeah. See you guys tomorrow!”

“See you!”

I finally let out that breath I had been holding the whole day. Heading over to the location we agreed to meet up at, I was greeted by the four of them together. My usual order already waiting for me with them.

“I love you guys”

“omG ARE YOU NOT WEARING ANYTHING UNDERNEATH?” Es screams.

“What?”

“You’re wearing just a sweater? Are you trying to get laid? We have enough siblings already please”

“JFKASLD nO. My classmate came over today and decided to help me dress up”

“You look very cute” Mist pipes up.

“Thank you. You look cuter as always”

“nO”

“Ok there’s one thing I can’t stand today and that’s you all arguing over who’s the prettiest and I will say. None of you. So be quiet and let us enjoy this afternoon”

“I hate you”

“I love you too”

The hours fly by, and soon, it’s time for dinner. Deciding on korean barbecue, we head over to the nearest store. In which we destroy our wallets, scream, and have fun. Soon, the time is over, and we all have to head home.

“See you!”

We text eachother when we get home, and I shower and fall asleep. And like that, the day is over.

Previous : Masterlist : Next

#fluff #im getting rid of the angst tag it's nonexistent here #writing #365 days #365 days of writing #365 days of rejection #fiction #first person #project #quarantine project #my ocs #this better help with college i swear

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xxwritemeastoryxx · 5 years

Text

Forgotten Alliance Ch. 14

Author: xxwritemeastoryxx

Pairings: Elijah Mikaelson x OC with other parings mentioned throughout.

Word Count: 5.6K

Warnings: Canon Typical things

Author’s Note: As a reminder, FA can be found on ffnet up to chapter 42. I am uploading chapters here on tumblr for convenience. I decided against tagging this until new chapters are posted. Of course there are a few that wished to be tagged and I will be tagging them in this. If you would like to be tagged please let me know! Chapters are queued and will be posted randomly. Enjoy

The compound had felt gloomy to Elizabeth. While she had not spent time with Cami and wasn't any way close to her, she could see that the Mikaelsons loved and cared for her. With a death once more, she knew it was putting the family closer to the edge. They needed a way to kill Lucien and they needed to find it quickly. There was no telling what their grief could bring. Cami's death should have already caused Klaus to take action already, but he hadn't. It had surprised Elizabeth that Klaus did not go out and seek revenge for his love. Instead, he stayed by her body all night.

Elizabeth had felt the bed sink down next to her. She had been awake for hours but she did not want to get up and face the grief that was just outside her bedroom doors. Turning around, Elizabeth saw Malakai sitting there. She smiled up at him for a moment before it faded and she shook her head. The look on his face alone to Elizabeth everything she needed to know.

"Was she worth it?" Elizabeth asked. Malakai's face had told her that he had spent the last few days with a girl. Who she was, Elizabeth would never know. There was a mixed expression on Malakai's face that pretty much stated 'I had a blast, spent some time with a girl and I killed her.'

"I would answer that, but I have a feeling I'd get smacked." He said with a slight nod. "Or get my neck broken."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes and sighed. "Just please tell me she wasn't a local."

"She wasn't a local." He said nodding. Elizabeth eyed him for a moment. She wasn't sure she believed him but she trusted him.

"Did you dispose of the body?" She asked sitting up. "Do I need to clean up after you?"

Malakai chuckled and shook his head. "No, you don't. I took care of everything. Even compelled a few people for some help." Elizabeth rose her eyebrow and Malakai raised his hands up as if he was surrendering. "No one else saw beside the...six of us..." Elizabeth was about to open her mouth and say something when Malakai continued. "It was a party with some humans that went a tad bit wrong in the end and I got it all taken care of. You can relax, Liz."

"I swear I feel more like your mother than I do your best friend." She said shaking her head and getting out of bed.

"You're both." He said with a not so innocent smile.

"I am not both." She said picking up a shoe and tossing it at him. "I am your best friend." She walked to the closet and pulled out clothes for the day. "And that is why as your best friend, we are going to spend the day together-"

"And you play shrink the whole day to make sure I haven't thought about some crazy blood lust." Malakai rolled his eyes.

"I'm just trying to help-"

"So that I don't end up like you." Elizabeth sighed. She must had that conversation with him several hundred times. Since Malakai had been awake, he had only killed a few people. Compared to Elizabeth, his record was still clean.

"I'm sorry, Kai." She said softly. "I guess I'd rather you have very few deaths on your hands. It's not fun being responsible for thousands of deaths."

"Your numbers aren't even close to being in the thousands." He shook his head and smiled. "You keep trying to make it seem like you are a killer."

"About sixty more and I would have reached the thousands." Malakai rolled his eyes. He knew the number was so much less than what she was making it out to be. One time she had admitted to how many people she actually killed. Rounding it off, she barely made it past 700 people. He was going to comment on what her real number was when her phone started buzzing. He picked it up off the night stand and tossed it to her.

Elizabeth looked at who was calling her and sighed. Answering it, she placed the phone against her ear. "Does she hate me?" Elizabeth asked Marcel about Davina. While everyone had said their goodbyes to Cami, Elizabeth hadn't bothered asking Davina or Marcel about what happened when Davina had come back to St. James.

Liz, I- Elizabeth could tell something was wrong just by the sound of his voice.

"Marcel, what is it?" She asked getting worried. She knew he wouldn't have called unless it had something to do with Davina. She heard a sigh from Marcel but the words she heard next didn't belong to him.

Lizzy, I'm sorry.

"Please tell me that was just my imagination and Kol is not standing there next you." Elizabeth's worry grew. If Kol was there, something must have gone wrong. "Is she okay?"

No Liz, she isn't. She's dead. Elizabeth had froze for a moment hearing Marcel's words.

"I'm going to kill him." That had been the last thing Marcel had heard before the line had gone dead from Elizabeth throwing the phone at the nearest wall. Elizabeth was fuming now. With her sudden changes of emotions from worry to complete anger, Elijah had rushed to her room to see what had happened. He only caught her throwing the phone at the wall.

"What happened?" He asked looking back and forth between Malakai and Elizabeth.

"She's going to kill someone." Malakai said. "Marcel called and the next thing I know is she's throwing her phone at the wall." Elizabeth hadn't bothered to comment on anything. Instead she grabbed the clothes that she had picked out and walked behind the changing wall. Elijah raised his eyebrow as he watched Elizabeth walk behind it.

"Elizabeth, what happened?" Elijah asked taking a step closer to the changing wall. Elizabeth said nothing as she changed and came back around it. She shook her head and sighed.

"Davina is dead." She said without a once of sadness in her voice. She was to angry to be sad. She wanted Kol dead for what he had done. She looked back and forth between Elijah and Malakai.

Malakai sighed and looked towards Elijah. "You might want to keep your brother away from her until she calms down."

"Oh there isn't any calming down." Elizabeth said shaking her head as she began to head towards the door. Elijah grabbed a hold of her arm and it caused Elizabeth to stop mid step and turn and look at him.

"Malakai, could you give us a moment?" Elijah asked as his eyes never left Elizabeth's eyes.

"Sure." Malakai said headed towards the door.

"Don't wander to far," Elizabeth said still looking at Elijah. "We're gonna have a body to bury soon. Wouldn't want you to miss it."

"You aren't thinking clearly." Elijah said the moment Malakai left the room. Elizabeth scoffed.

"I am thinking clearly." She said with a smile on her face. Elijah could see past it though. He could feel the anger that was alight inside her. He knew that this was one of the things that Elizabeth wouldn't rest until she did what she thought was needed to be done.

"You are angry with my brother, I understand. But I can not let you kill him." Elijah was going to try his hardest to get her to calm down. He hated for her to feel the way she did. If it had been anyone else but Kol, Elijah wouldn't have held her back. He wanted the demons that hid inside her to be gone. Kol was family.

"You want me to forget the promise-no, threat-I made to him?" She asked with an eyebrow raised. She shook her head a moment later. "I can't just do that, 'Lijah."

Elijah sighed. "Please understand this won't make the situation any better." He said bringing his hand up to her cheek. "And with you being technically younger than Kol, I'd hate to see you get hurt, or even killed. "

Elizabeth sighed and leaned into his hand. She couldn't get herself killed, she knew that. Even though she did, she wanted some kind of punishment for Kol. "Can I put a dagger in his heart at least?" She asked in all seriousness.

"You would have to ask Niklaus for one." He said with a small smile. "Though I am not sure there is one in this compound anymore."

"If there is, I will find it." She said with a small shrug. "And when I do put a dagger in his heart, I will be the one to put him six feet under only when I see fit will he be able to walk this earth again."

Elijah couldn't help but chuckle. Elizabeth may have been serious, but he couldn't see it that way. Not when she was trying so hard to stay angry with him around her. They were each others balance. When one was angry and murderous, the other could easily calm the other down. It amazed them both how this bond between them had made things so much different. It was a good different.

Elijah and Elizabeth walked into a room to find Freya looking over a spell. She had been shaking her head and Elizabeth had wondered what it was that Freya was working on.

"Something the matter?" Elijah asked as they walked closer to the table Freya had been working at.

"I need a strand of hair from both of you." Freya said with a small nod. Elijah and Elizabeth both plucked a strand of hair from their heads before handing them to Frey. "I'm working on an early warning system. Lucien has all the witch Ancestors in New Orleans on his side. I need to know if they tried to magically interfere with any one of you."

"Freya, when we said no rest for the wicked," Elijah said walking around the table looking at the ingredients on the table. "I certainly didn't expect you to-"

"I'm up against centuries of dead witches who are apparently now strong enough to reach beyond the grave and shake the entire city on its foundation." Freya said interrupting Elijah. "I'll rest once I've sent them all running back to hell."

"That seems like a lot of sleepless days." Elizabeth said looking at Freya. "Are you sure you'll be able to handle that?" All Elizabeth got back was a smirk that made Elizabeth smile back.

"Elijah!"Marcel's voice filled the compound. Elijah started to walk out of the room and Elizabeth followed. She knew if Marcel was here, it meant Kol wasn't far behind. Walking into the courtyard, Elizabeth saw Kol standing there.

"You just couldn't keep away, could you?" She asked starting to walk towards him. Elijah grabbed her arm and Marcel stepped in front of her.

"Listen, Liz." Marcel said getting her attention. "We have a plan."

"And what is that?" She asked. "Allow him to live while Davina is dead?!"

"We intend to bring Davina back." Marcel said looking at Elizabeth hoping that she would actually calm down.

"How can you do that when only a rege-" Elizabeth stopped herself from continuing her sentence. "You are going to force Van to do it." It had made Elizabeth relax a bit. She knew that if they were able to get Davina back, it would be like she never left.

"More like persuade him to do it." He said with a smirk growing on his face.

"Doing so will only anger the witches even more." Elijah said shaking his head.

"If it is a chance to bring back Davina," Kol said taking a step closer to Elijah. "We will risk it."

"This is a war." Elijah said looking at all of them. "Please understand, I despise the situation."

"No," Kol said shaking his head and raising his voice. "that's the wrong answer!" Both Marcel and Elizabeth stepped in between both brothers.

"No, no, no." Marcel said looking back and forth between them. "I know this is a war, but I've lost a lot of friends, too." He stopped and looked at Elizabeth before looking at Elijah. "Today I need your help."

"And you shall have it. I'm not just going to let her die or worse. We don't even know what the ancestors have planned for her." Elizabeth said with a nod before looking at Elijah, pleading with her eyes for him to agree with her. Sighing and a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips, he nodded.

"She speaks as if she is the one to be making decisions." Klaus said as he walked down the stairs. "I must say it takes some guts to do so in my home."

"Someone has to make the right decisions." She said as she smirked at Klaus.

"What ever you say orphan." Klaus said before walking over to Kol. "Come on, Kol. Let's get you cleaned up." Klaus lead Kol out of the courtyard leaving the others.

"Thank you." Marcel said to Elizabeth and Elijah.

"Anything to get her back." Elizabeth said with a smile. "Maybe then we will get our awards taken away." Her words caused Marcel to laugh.

"Even if we do, I'm sure we will find another way to get them back." Marcel said with a small shake of his head.

"I think it's best if we try not to. I wouldn't want to make her hate me after bringing her back from the dead."

"You have a point there." Marcel said before nodding and walking out of the courtyard.

Elijah watched as he did and once he was gone, an eyebrow raised and he looked at Elizabeth. "Awards?"

Elizabeth chuckled and took a step closer to Elijah. "We talked a few days ago about how we got the awards for being the worst family to Davina." She said with smile.

"You are not." Elijah said smiling at her.

"I did tell her boyfriend to leave her and to leave town." She said reminding him. "Horrible grandmother."

"Indeed you are." He said with a smirk. She shook her head and laughed before walking back towards the room Freya was in. The others were already in there when Elizabeth and Elijah walked into the room. Freya was looking over the spell.

"I'll draw Davina's spirit to a circle. As long as she's there, the Ancestors won't be able to torment her." She said looking at everyone before looking back at the spell in front of her. "With luck that will buy you some time to find a way to resurrect her, but I'll need to channel an Original if I'm going to sustain the spell."

Kol stepped closer to her. "Well, take me." He said all to willing to volunteer. He wanted to do anything to get Davina back and if it meant using himself, he would be glad to do it. "Put me down for all I care, if it keeps her safe."

"No, " Freya said shaking her head. "you've been marred by the Ancestors' magic, so, Klaus, Elijah, rock, paper, scissors."

Elijah took a few steps towards Freya. He knew he would be the one to help Freya with the spell. He couldn't see Klaus helping Davina in anyway. He stopped in his tracks when they all seen the candles alight at once.

"That can't be good." Elizabeth said walking over to where Elijah was currently standing. Freya looked at the candles in surprise.

"My early warning system." She said never taking her eyes off the candles. "I think a New Orleans witch is trying to meddle with one of you."

"Lucien has the new Regent at his beck and call." Klaus said looking at Freya. "It's me he's coming after." A second later, the portrait of Rebekah hanging on the wall burst into flames.

"I don't think it is you, Klaus." Elizabeth said as she watched the flames cover the whole portrait.

"He's going after Rebekah. " Freya said looking at the portrait before looking towards Klaus.

"Lucien thought that killing Cami would have me charging into his lair on a suicide mission." He said beginning to walk towards the door. " When it didn't, he set his sights on Rebekah. He's kicking hornets' nests, until we have no choice but to confront him." He turned to face the others.

"Presumably, he still believes she's at the bottom of the ocean." Elijah said as he began to worry if Lucien would be able to find their sister or not.

"I cloaked all of you, but with the Ancestors working for Lucien, it may take awhile, but if he wants to find Rebekah, he will." Freya said knowing it was only a matter of time.

"I'll go get her." Klaus said turning to leave again.

"It's not safe out there." Elizabeth said. It had surprised her but for right now, she had been right, it wasn't safe for any of them to be out there.

"What then?!" Klaus asked raising his voice as he stopped and looked at them all. His only concern had been getting to Rebekah. He did not care that there was the possibility of him being in danger if he left the compound. "Are we to sit here and play cards until Lucien slides Rebekah's bitten corpse down the hall?"

"Let me go." Elijah said as he began to go towards the door before Klaus grabbed his arm and stopped him.

"I moved her." Klaus said to Elijah and everyone could see the surprised look on Elijah's face. "What, don't look so surprised. I never did like you two sharing secrets."

"Tell me where she is, " Elijah said becoming protective of Rebekah. He didn't like that Klaus had moved her. "unless you expect me to stay here and leave our sister entirely defenseless."

Klaus took a step closer to Elijah. "I expect you to prevent Kol from suffering the same loss that I did. Lucien deserves our collective ire. Today, your grievances are tabled." He said before leaving the room.

Elijah looked at his siblings and at Elizabeth. Elizabeth gave a small smile at him and walked over to him once more. "Rebekah will be okay." She said placing her hand on Elijah's arm. "Klaus can take care of himself and Rebekah." Elijah only nodded. "Now lets help Freya get ready to help Davina."

Moments later, everything was set up. All they needed to make sure Davina would be safe once in the circle had been put in their proper places. Elizabeth stood next to Marcel and Kol on one side of the circle while Elijah and Freya were on the other.

"Tell Vincent to begin the consecration." Freya said to Marcel who sent a quick text.

They watched as Freya waited a moment for Vincent to complete the consecration before she began the spell. With each repeated chant, Elizabeth hoped that it would work. While she knew Kol and Marcel were feeling the same way, she couldn't help but wonder what the ancestors were doing now that Davina was now in their domain. There had been a sigh of relief from everyone when Davina appeared in the circle.

"What ever it is you did, thank you." Davina said looking at everyone. Elizabeth could see how scared she looked and Elizabeth didn't like it. To see her safe gave her some piece of mind. She just wanted her back alive now.

Seeing the sweet moment between her and Kol, Elizabeth smiled a bit and looked at the others. "Lets give them a moment, shall we?" The others nodded and they left the room, giving Kol and Davina a moment of privacy.

Freya, Elizabeth and Elijah walked out onto the balcony. Freya had asked to speak to them alone for a moment. Once they were out, Freya closed the door behind them.

"I think there is a way to Kill Lucien." Freya said turning to them.

"I'm all ears to hear this plan of yours, Freya." Elizabeth said nodding, eager to hear whatever it is.

"What is it?" Elijah asked looking between the women in front of him.

"As long as Davina is caught between our worlds, I can use her as a conduit to channel power from the Ancestors." Freya said hoping that they would agree to this idea especially Elizabeth. " The same power to create Lucien. Once I have it, I can make Lucien killable again."

"That sounds like something that could work." Elizabeth said with a nod. "As long as that circle stays intact, she'll be okay. Would you be able to do it without breaking the circle?"

"Everything comes with a price." Freya said beginning to pace. It caused Elizabeth to start shaking her head. She knew where this was going. "In order to take power from the Ancestors, you have to steal it. Which means to make Lucien killable, I'll have to draw through Davina while she is in the ancestral well. And to do that, I will have to break the circle that protects her."

"No." Elizabeth said shaking her head again. "Not if it puts her in danger. "

"Freya, they will destroy her." Elijah said looking at Freya. He didn't like the idea at all and with Elizabeth saying no as well to this, it should have been made clear that this wasn't such a good idea.

"I know what is at stake, Elijah." Freya said.

"Do you?" Elizabeth asked getting angry. "She's a child. She goes back we lose her. There is no chance for her to come back if she goes back in there." Elijah placed a hand on her shoulder hoping to calm down some of the anger. She wanted to shrug his hand off but didn't. "Doing that will kill her all over again. We are not doing this. At all. Try and you wont like what happens." She looked at both of them wanting to make it clear that she would try and stop them if they had tired.

Elijah sighed and looked at Freya. "We cant do that."

"What the hell do we do?" Freya asked looking at both of them.

"We find another way." Elizabeth said before turning and walking away. She didn’t want to hear anymore of it. She made it clear that she would in no way put Davina through something just to kill Lucien. As much as Elizabeth wanted him dead, she would rather have Davina back.

Elijah watched as Elizabeth walked away before turning to Freya. A though crossed his mind before he pulled out his phone and dialed Klaus's number. He explained the situation to his brother.

And Freya is certain that this power is enough to kill Lucien? Klaus asked.

"Yes, we would be placing Davina in terrible danger. The only thing protecting her from the Ancestors is Freya's circle. Now if that circle is broken-"

They will rip her apart, Elijah. Hayley said into the speaker. She is just a kid.

Elijah sighed. "Elizabeth has even stated that if we tried this she would stop us. But what choice do we have?"

No. Klaus said. Find another way. If we destroy Davina, we don't only lose Kol and Marcel, you lose Elizabeth. I wont have us all turning on each other and I don't think you'd want to feel the betrayal coming from your mate if you did this. Keep looking brother.

The call went dead and Elijah looked to Freya. Klaus had been right though, doing this would betray Elizabeth and he wasn't sure he wanted that. He cared for Elizabeth and doing anything to Davina would surely cause Elizabeth to feel betrayed and he did not want to be at the other end of that.

Elizabeth had joined Marcel and Davina. She didn't mention the conversation she had with Freya and Elijah. She couldn't even think about what would happen if anything had happened to her. She stood by Marcel by the circle looking at Davina. Elizabeth felt better about Davina being close by. Even though she was dead, it was good to see her.

"This wasn't your fault." She said to Marcel. "Or Kol's. The ancestors hate me because of the decisions I have made. I'm not a kid."

"To me you are." Elizabeth said with a smile. "You'll be a kid to me until you've reached my age." It caused them both to laugh.

"She's got a point there, D." Marcel said with a smile.

Davina smiled back. "But I'm not your responsibility anymore."

Marcel shook his head. "Honey, you will always be my responsibility."

"What were you supposed to do? Lock me away in an attic and keep the world at bay forever?" It caused both Elizabeth and Marcel to laugh.

"And the award goes to.." Elizabeth whispered with a smile looking back and forth between Marcel and Davina and she placed a hand on Marcel's shoulder. Marcel smiled at Elizabeth for a moment.

"I would do anything to keep you safe if I could." He said.

"So would I." Elizabeth said with a nod.

"You didn't let me down." Davina said looking back and forth between them. While Elizabeth had only been in her life a few weeks, Davina knew she would have done anything to make sure she was alright. And while Elizabeth had been there, she never once disappointed Davina. "Neither of you did. I just grew up." She looked to Marcel and smiled. "Thank you for saving me that first time. And for everything else after. I love you Marcel."

Marcel smiled at her. "I love you too, Davina." They smiled at each other for a few minutes. If he could have, Marcel would have hugged her and not let her go. Elizabeth smiled at them before turning to Marcel.

"Go check on Vincent and Kol." Elizabeth said with a small smile. "I'll keep her company." Marcel nodded and headed out of the room. Elizabeth sighed and gave a small smile to Davina. "When Marcel called me this morning, I had been so ready to kill Kol."

"Good thing you couldnt." Davina said with a shake of her head. "It wasn't his fault, Liz. If it had been, I would have understood."

"I made a promise to Kol when he had first come back that if he in anyway messed up, I'd kill him." Elizabeth shook her head. "Even though I know the Ancestors have their hold on him Davina, I can't forgive him."

"I don't expect you to, Liz." Davina said with a smile. "I don't even expect you to be nice to him anymore."

Elizabeth chuckled and shook her head. "I haven't been nice to him at all. Even when they came to the compound before Freya did her spell, I was about ready to try. But Marcel and Elijah stopped me."

"I'm glad they did." She said with a small nod. A thought crossed her mind and she sighed softly. "Liz, if this doesn't work out, can you promise me something?"

"You know this will work." Elizabeth said shaking her head. "You know we will do everything we can to make sure you come back to us. I can't have my granddaughter suffering somewhere I can't protect her."

"If I go back, my soul is in trouble." She said scared. "No matter how this goes, just keep the promise I tell you?" Elizabeth sighed and nodded.

"Okay. What am I promising you?" Before Davina could tell Elizabeth, Elijah came in and pushed her with her back up against a column in the room. Elizabeth raised her eyebrow at him as to what he was doing and why he had been holding her firmly against it. "Elijah what are you doing?"

"Please forgive me, Elizabeth." He said watching her. He watched as her eyes widened when she heard Freya step into the room starting a spell.

"No." She said shaking her head and started to fight against Elijah's hold. "Freya, please don't do this to her." She watched as Freya grabbed a hold of Davina's hand.

"Don't please," Davina said trying to plead with Freya as she continued her spell. "You'll break the circle." Hearing Davina begging for Freya to stop, made Elizabeth fight harder against Elijah's hold. "Liz!" Davina pleaded for her help.

Elizabeth was able to push Elijah off of her for a moment. She had rushed to Freya and was about to snap the woman's neck when Elijah pulled her back and held onto her tighter.

"No!" Elizabeth yelled as she tried pulling herself out of Elijah's hold again. "Don't let her do this Elijah!" She begged as she stared at Freya as she continued her spell.

By the time the spell was done and Davina was gone, Elizabeth had froze in her spot. She couldn't believe what Freya had done. She also couldn't believe that Elijah had helped her do it. They both knew how much Davina had meant to Elizabeth and after their talk earlier, she thought they would have understood. Her mind couldn't wrap around the fact that this had all been real. She had hoped that this had just been a bad dream and that she would wake up from this.

"It had to be done." Freya said looking back and forth between Elijah and Elizabeth. Elizabeth shook her head quickly at Freya's words.

"No." She said standing out of Elijah's hold and away from him. "You could have found another way!" She yelled as she stepped right in front of Freya.

"There was no other way, Liz." Freya said trying to get Elizabeth to see that this had been what they needed to do.

"Elizabeth." Elijah said and Elizabeth turned to him. She shook her head at him. He could see the tears that had formed and spilled down her cheeks. After Klaus did not answer his phone, he had felt this had been the right thing to do to save their family, to keep Elizabeth safe. But seeing her reactions now, he felt worse about the whole thing.

"We need to get to Klaus and Hayley." Freya said walking around them and out of the room.

Elijah sighed as he watched Elizabeth took a step closer to him. While he had felt Elizabeth's sadness a moment ago, it grew to betrayal. She shook her head again trying to clear her thoughts for something to say to him. Nothing came to mind. Instead, she brought her hand up and smacked him hard across the cheek. "We were supposed to find another way. I hope it was worth it." She said through clenched teeth.

Elijah knew he had deserved it. He had made her watch as the possibilities of bringing back her loved one from the dead diminished. The look on his face showed he had indeed hated himself for what had been done. Without saying anything, Elijah turned and walked out of the room.

#The Originals #The vampire Diaries #Forgotten Alliance #elijah mikaelson x oc

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master-sass-blast · 5 years

Text

Salt of the Earth

Well. Hello. Welcome to my salt.

So, this is a fic that definitely fits into the series and everything, but it is also a direct byproduct of my salt at Netflix cancelling “The Punisher.”

It’ll make sense once you read the fic.

Rated T for: Multiple injuries, car accident (singular), kidnapping, mentions of child abuse, and just angst in general.

Pairings: Piotr Rasputin x Reader (and kinda sorta Frank Castle x Karen Page; it’s not outright stated, but it’s very strongly implied that they like each other).

Song lyrics are from “Zombie” by Bad Wolves; bible verse is Matt. 5:13.

@marvel-is-perfection

“It’s the same o-ld thing/ in 2018/ In your head/ in your head/ they are dying…”

You sing along with the music blaring through the store speakers under your breath as you glare at the stack of sketchbooks sitting on the shelf in front of you. You’re at an art store in the small town area Piotr likes going to for outings –the very same place the two of you had your first date, in fact—and you’re trying to pick out a good birthday gift for your dearly beloved boyfriend.

Because Piotr is, without a doubt, the world’s most fantastic boyfriend, and you are not about to be shown up by your own partner.

You know, not to mention the fact that you want to get him something good. Something he’ll like.

So, first step. Art store. Always a good place to start, considering that Piotr is an artist and loves getting any art related gifts.

And, bonus! You can get there legally, without Piotr’s help, because you have a driver’s license! One hundred percent legally obtained! Go you!

The money in your bank account that will be used to buy the gift/gifts isn’t legally obtained, because it’s a mix of funds from Wade and your uncle, but the cashier isn’t going to know that and you know Piotr isn’t going to berate you for it because he understands that your situation’s a little –a lot—fucked up to begin with.

Anyway. Back to the point

You’ve made it to the art store. You are currently in the art store. You are exactly where you need to be –which, if it wasn’t clear, is the art store.

Unfortunately, there are no steps after “get to the art store” because you have no idea what you’re doing.

Yes, you do art; you’re not on Piotr’s level, but you hold your own –and, dare you say it, but you’re improving!

But Piotr’s always handled the ‘supply buying,’ as it were, and now that you’re staring down what seems like thousands of options, you’re completely lost at sea.

Okay, you tell yourself. Think. What does he need replaced?

Pens. He’s always burning through pens –and erasers, come to think of it—with how regularly he uses them.

You smile to yourself as you dart over to the proper aisle. I’m gonna own the fuck out of this.

Once you get your footing, you nail the shopping session. You’re gonna have to hide the receipt from Piotr because you definitely went a little nuts, but he deserves and you have more than enough money so why not?

You hum happily along to the pop song of the moment as you drive back to the mansion, gifts safely tucked in the shotgun seat of your car. You’re flying down the highway –not literally, in the sense that you can actually fly or the sense that you’d be speeding—and—

There’s not a single other car in sight.

And that’s… a little weird. It’s early afternoon on a weekend. You’d think you’d see more travelers on the road.

Before you have too much time to overthink it, a massive black SUV comes up on your tail out of nowhere.

You yelp and lay on the horn when it rams into your bumper. “What the fuck, asshole?” You wrench the wheel, trying to stay on the road, and press the gas pedal down harder.

The SUV keeps pace with you, barely keeping off your back bumper as it tails you down the empty road.

You honk again and shift into the other lane before slowing down.

The SUV simply speeds ahead –and spins so that it’s sitting across both lanes of the highway, right in your path.

You shriek as you stomp on the brakes, but it’s too little, too late.

Your car slams into the side of the SUV, and everything goes dark.

The first thing you register is pain. So much of it, everywhere. Your head feels like it’s been put in a vice until it cracked, and your ribs ache with every breath you take.

The second thing you register is that you’re laying on your side in some sort of cramped, stuffy compartment. You can’t sit up, can’t really even move without bumping into a barrier of some sort.

The third thing you register is that whatever you’re in is moving.

Oh, dear sweet Cthulhu have mercy, I’m in the trunk of a car. You groan as you check your pockets for your phone and swear when you come up empty handed. “Shit! Okay, taillight. Find one of the taillights.”

It takes forever, between the pain you’re in and the cramped quarters, but you manage to find one of the taillights. You rip the carpet covering it away, then use your powers to punch it out.

You’re in a city, which is better then being on some backroad in the middle of the woods. City means people, which means phones, which means you’ve got a shot at calling someone and getting back to the X-Mansion. You suck in the fresh night air –you’ve been out for a while, which isn’t good—and try to formulate some sort of a plan. Maybe they’ll hit a light soon, and then I can break the hood open and get out—

The sound of tires screeching fills the air, followed by a heavy burst of gunfire.

You suck air through your teeth –part in surprise, part in pain—as the car comes to an abrupt stop.

“The fuck was that?” one of your abductor’s voices shouts from the cabin of the car, muffled but extremely pissed off.

You know about as much as they do, it would seem, and while you’re not fond of getting out of the car while there’s active gunfire, you know you’re not gonna get a better chance.

You slam the hood of the car open, sending it flying into the air, and bolt for the nearest alley before your kidnappers can react. You barely make it two feet into the shadows before you collapse against a wall, head spinning with blinding pain. Fuck. I think some of my ribs are broken. You pant and gasp through the waves of agony, trying to keep from vomiting.

“Where’d she go?”

“She won’t have gotten far. Find her!”

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck fuck fuckfuckuckfuck—

You grit your teeth and fly up to the nearest roof top. You do actually vomit –and almost pass out in it—once your feet hit the flat, paved surface. You collapse to your knees, arms shaking, and groan as you force yourself to your feet. Push through it. Come on. You need to find a way to call Piotr.

You manage to run across the roof top, away from the sounds of your kidnappers’ voices, tears stinging your eyes at every jolt your body takes. You round a corner, hoping to find some sort of door inside—

You run into a black clad figure –literally, full body contact and everything—and scream as the two of you go down together. Adrenaline surges through your system, and you lash out at the person wildly.

“Woah –woah! Hey!”

You stop with a gasp when you see Frank Castle’s face –a little bruised and bloody, but not too much worse for wear considering his line of work—staring down at you. You groan and go limp. “You have no idea how happy I am to see you.”

“The fuck happened to you?” he grunts as he scans your various injuries.

“Car crash. Kidnapped.” You wince. “You know, the usual.” You flinch when you hear the voices of your abductors shouting –they’re getting closer—and shoot Frank a desperate look. “I need help. Please. I lost my phone, I can’t call anyone for help—”

He pulls you to your feet and hooks one of your arms over his shoulders so he can support some of your weight. “I’ve got a van in an alley nearby. Let’s go.”

You do your best to keep pace with him and look over your shoulder jerkily when you hear more gunfire. “The fuck is that?”

“I made some friends,” he grunts as he guides you across the dark rooftop. “Left.”

“Sure sounds like it.” Gunfire pierces the air again –closer, you’re both being closed in on—and you shift your arm so that it’s around his waist and squeeze him against you as much as you can. “Which way’s the alley?”

“West, two blocks –Christ!”

If you were feeling better, you’d smirk at Frank’s exclamation when you launch the two of you into the air. As it is, you grimace and focus on not crashing into anything or dropping your only ticket out of here –here being Hell’s Kitchen, apparently.

You manage to find said alley and van –both of which could be charitably described as ‘creepy looking.’ You and Frank tumble to the cracked pavement, and then you’re retching against the dirty asphalt like a cat trying to hock up the biggest hairball of its life.

Frank gets you up on your feet an into the passenger side of the van in a matter of seconds. He mumbles an apology as he buckles you in, then gets into the driver’s side equally as fast and starts the engine.

“I’m gonna apologize in advance,” you gasp. “In case I throw up in your van.”

Frank makes the grunt equivalent of a shrug as he peels out of the alleyway. “Not the worst thing it’s seen.”

He stops behind a massive apartment building about fifteen minutes later, cutting the engine as he unbuckles himself and opens the door.

“What’re we doing?” you mumble. Now that you’re sitting down and not actively working on getting away from your kidnappers, exhaustion’s setting in. Fast.

“Can’t use my car to get’cha where you need to go,” Frank explains as he unbuckles you and half-drags, half-scoops you out of your seat. “We’ll need to borrow a ride. That, and you need some first aid for your head faster than you need a ride home.”

You frown as you touch your head, then blink when your hand comes away red and sticky. “Oh. Party.”

Frank chuckles as helps you stagger towards the fire escape. “Always is.”

“Wait, you’re gonna make me fucking climb all that?”

“Guy like me can’t exactly use the front door.”

“How high up are we going?”

“Floor fourteen.”

You give him a flat look. “I hate you.”

He chuckles again. “That how you thank all your rescuers?”

“It is if they make me climb up fourteen floors after going through a car accident.”

“Suppose that’s fair.”

You wince as you hook your arm around his waist again. “You’re gonna have to count; I need to focus on not dropping us.”

You manage to get up to the correct floor without dropping Frank once. He does, though, have to practically drag you to the right window. You whimper as he sets you down and taps on the glass pane.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Hang in there.”

You can hear movement inside the apartment, and then the window opens.

A slim woman with shoulder-length blonde hair and wide blue eyes gives the two of you a horrified look. “Frank –what the fuck?”

He jerks his head at you. “She needs help.”

You stick out your hand –it’s not like you’ve got any better options. “I’m Y/N.”

Karen shakes your hand before backing away from the window so Frank can lift you inside. “I’m Karen Page. Let me grab my first aid kit.”

“I’ve got it,” Frank says as he shuts the window. “She needs a phone to call her boyfriend.”

“I lost mine in the car crash.”

It says something about Karen that she doesn’t even blink at your comment. Instead, she digs her phone out of her purse, unlocks it, and hands it you. “Here.”

“Sorry if I bleed on it,” you mumble as you dial Piotr’s number –you mentally thank your uncle for making you memorize phone numbers from an early age on—and try to avoid smearing Karen’s phone with blood as you lift the speaker end to your ear.

“It’s fine.” Karen nods in the direction that Frank went. “I guarantee you he’s done worse.”

The phone rings a few times before Piotr picks up. “Ya sluchu vas.”

You start crying; after the day you’ve had, hearing his voice is the best damn thing in the world. “Piotr?”

His reaction is immediate, relief so evident in his voice you can practically see the expression on his face. “Y/N, where are you? I have been trying to reach you all day—”

“I got in a car crash; some chickenshits tried to run me off the road, and then they threw me in the trunk of a car, and—”

“What? Slow down. Wait, are you safe? Where are you?”

You groan as Frank and Karen help you sit on her couch, then laugh when you realize how fucking ridiculous the story you’re about to tell is gonna sound. “Yeah. You’re not gonna believe who I ran into.”

Frank takes over the phone once you’ve recapped everything for Piotr and reassured your darling boyfriend that, yes, you’re as okay as you can be and you’re in a safe place; he works out the details of how you’re getting back to the mansion while Karen works on getting you relatively cleaned and patched up.

And Karen, to her credit, doesn’t seem all that alarmed by your –or Frank’s, for that matter—injuries. Concerned, yes, and maybe a little strained, but not scared.

She smiles weakly when you remark as much. “Yeah, well, you can’t really let all this freak you out to much if you associate with him.” She nods at Frank again.

“I didn’t think the Punisher had associates,” you mumble as she applies another bandage to what seemed to be a nasty cut on your forehead, if Frank’s and Karen’s reactions were anything to go by.

She huffs out a laugh at that. “I didn’t either, until I realized that I was one of them.”

“Yeah… yeah. No, we’ll get ‘er to you. Probably safer that way… nah, I’m sure. We’ll finish getting ‘er stable, and then I’ll drive her out. See you in a bit, Rasputin.”

You peer up at Frank as he ends the call and hands the phone back to Karen. “How’re we getting out of here?”

“I’ll drive you back once you’re patched up.”

Karen snorts and gives him an incredulous look. “I don’t remember saying you could ‘borrow’ my car. Again.”

“I’ve got a ride—”

“What, your murder van?”

You giggle; it’s an apt description, really.

The corner of Frank’s mouth turns up –and holy shit the Punisher is actually smiling. “What’s wrong with it? It’s got four wheels, it drives, it brakes, it steers. What more do you want?”

“Upholstery that doesn’t have bloodstains on them?”

“Aw, c’mon. It adds character.”

And, even with your probable concussion, you can tell that Frank and Karen are flirting. Hardcore flirting, even.

And that’s… interesting. You knew that Karen had to be someone that Frank trusted to even go to her in the first place, but you hadn’t banked on him liking her, too.

“Frank, you won’t be in Hell’s Kitchen. If you drive Y/N to the X-Mansion in your murder van, people are going to call the police. We’ll take my car.”

“‘We?’”

Karen shoots him a defiant look. “You aren’t ‘borrowing’ my car again, Frank.” She moves out of the way so he can take over your ‘patching up’ and disappear somewhere out of your field of vision.

Frank crouches in front of the couch, still grinning as he rifles through Karen’s first aid kit. He pauses for a minute –and you recognize the look on his face as the ‘I’m about to be a little shit’ expression, which you’ve learned to identify from spending so much time with Wade—then says “Technically, I didn’t borrow it the first time.”

“Not helping your argument, Castle.”

You bite back a smirk as Frank huffs out something that, on another person, might be a chuckle. Very interesting.

Once Frank declares that you’re unlikely to bleed on the interior of Karen’s car, she and Frank help you down to the parking garage of her apartment building. Frank crawls into the back with you –to make sure you don’t fall asleep, given your probable concussion and whatnot—while Karen gets into the driver’s seat and turns the car on.

You wince as you try to sit in a way that doesn’t hurt, then give up on it and settle for letting your head rest against the car door.

You’re tired. Now that you’re not running for your life or in the warm glow of Karen’s apartment, all you can process –feel—is your exhaustion. You haven’t eaten since breakfast, you’re uncomfortable, and every single tiny move you make hurts.

You are, however, wearing one of Frank’s hoodies; Karen had produced it from somewhere in her apartment –add that to the list of interesting details about whatever dynamic Frank Castle and Karen Page have going on—and wrapped you in it to hide the worst of your injuries from any passersby. It’s ridiculously soft, funnily enough, and is only adding to the exhaustion weighing down on you. You nestle yourself in as much as you can to the back seat of Karen’s car and make to close your eyes.

“Hey. Hey, hey! Do not fall asleep right now!” Frank grabs your hand and squeezes hard enough to be uncomfortable. “Keep your eyes open, you hear me?”

“Fuck you, I’m tired,” you whine. You open your eyes anyway.

“How’d you end up running into Frank?” Karen asks from the front seat as she carefully navigates out of Hell’s Kitchen. “You said something about crashing your car?”

“I didn’t crash my car,” you grouse. “Some assholes pulled out in front of me on a highway and stopped.”

“And no one called the police? Or an ambulance?”

“I’m pretty sure it was all planned ahead of time. The highway was dead empty just before it happened.”

The car goes silent for a moment, and then Karen says in a voice that’s just a little too steady “I knew working with the X-Men could be dangerous, but I didn’t think things were that crazy.”

“I don’t think it had anything to do with them,” you admit. “I’m not really an X-Man, either.”

“But you live at the mansion. And you’re a mutant.”

“I am, but being at the mansion is more for my own safety,” you say with a bitter laugh. “I, uh, grew up in an anti-mutant home. Left once I figured out there was a place that would accept me.”

“You think it had something to do with your parents?” Frank asks.

“I mean, they’ve sent bounty hunters after me before,” you grumble. “It’s not like it’d be the first time.”

Frank tenses next to you. “Who are you parents, ‘xactly?”

You don’t have to guess about why he’s suddenly so uptight. This is the man that spends his life gunning down gangs and crime families and other scums of the Earth; if you were him, you’d be worried about what sort of shit the person you randomly helped save might drag into your life—

Or the life of someone like Karen Page.

If there’s really something going on there, you muse, he’s gonna be protective of her. “They’re no one. Just a couple of assholes who didn’t want their kid when she was growing up, but now that’s she gone they’ve figured out they don’t want anyone else having her either, much less for her to have a life where she’s happy.” Tears start stinging your eyes, and then they’re trickling down your cheeks as you start crying. “They used to lock me in my room –my dad would beat with a belt when I had trouble controlling my mutation—” You choke back a sob, then pain racks through your body from the movement jarring your ribs.

There’s the click of a seatbelt unbuckling, and then Frank’s sliding over so he’s next to you, holding your shoulders steady so you don’t jerk yourself around unnecessarily. “Hey, hey. Deep breaths. Easy.”

“I can’t ‘breathe deep,’ asshole,” you say with a choked laugh. “Ow.”

“Is abuse really all that common towards mutants?” Karen asks from the front seat. “Not that I don’t believe you or believe it happens, it’s just… disheartening to think about.”

“Unfortunately, it is,” you say as Frank slides back to his seat and buckles himself in; you’ve calmed down again, which means you don’t need to be restrained. “There’s obviously the good families, but we’re kind of scum to society. Freakish abominations.”

“But there’s nothing wrong with you,” Karen insists. “You’re just people.”

You let out a dark laugh. “Tell that to the founders of Harmony.”

Frank’s eyes are on you again. “What?”

“An anti-mutant settlement about an hour from Xavier’s. They actively kill any mutants they can get their hands on; they’ve got a compound out in the middle of the woods where they do it.” You go quiet for a moment. “They would’ve killed Piotr, if we hadn’t rescued him.”

“I didn’t realize things were that bad,” Karen says softly after a moment. “How are people even getting away with that shit?”

“How do people get away with committing atrocities anywhere? They think they have a right to hurt people, and others agree with them. Unfortunately for us, the ‘others’ who agree with them happen to be the people in power.”

The car goes silent again, and something tells you that the wheels in Karen’s head are turning. You don’t know her that well –don’t know her at all, really—but something tells you that the woman that Frank Castle is –seemingly—interested in isn’t the type to roll over all that easy.

Then, Karen clears her throat. “Who’s Piotr?”

You smile softly. “He’s my boyfriend. He’s the one I called at your apartment. I was actually out getting him some presents for his birthday today.”

“That’s sweet. What were you getting him?”

“Art supplies. He’s an artist, so I like to help keep him stocked up.” You blink owlishly when you realize that the bags with everything you’d bought are probably still in the wreckage formerly known as you car. “I’m gonna have to rerun that errand. Right after I get a new ride.”

“It’ll all work out,” Karen reassures you. “How long have the two of you been together?”

“Uh…” You try to figure it out, even going as far as to count it out on your fingers—

“She’s concussed, Karen. Maybe don’t make her do math,” Frank says with a chuckle.

“It’s been longer than a year,” you add. “Definitely longer than a year.” You think for a moment, then let out a soft laugh. “Y’know, I never thought I’d find anyone. I grew up thinking I was unlovable.”

“Anyone can be loved,” Karen says.

If it were any other situation, you’d write it off as a supportive statement.

But Karen’s voice is just a little too pointed, a little too intentional, and Frank suddenly gets very interested in staring at his shoes.

Probable concussion or not, you know you’re not seeing things. But, there’s nothing you can do or say now that won’t make things awkward, so you tuck it all away for later, for when you can dish it all out to Ellie, Wade, and Yukio to get their opinions on it all –which, to be clear, you’ll only do because you know they’d never blab about it.

But yeah, later. Right now, all you want to do is get back home to Piotr.

Karen keeps you talking for the rest of the ride, asking questions about Piotr and your new life at Xavier’s until she pulls up the gravel drive of Xavier’s Institute for Gifted Youngsters.

The front door opens before Karen even puts the car into park and then Piotr’s sprinting out towards you, followed by a couple of healers.

Frank gets out and directs him to the side where you’re sat—

And then the door’s opening, and Piotr’s there next to you, and you’re both crying.

A couple that cries together, stays together. Isn’t that how the saying goes?

Frank helps Piotr unbuckle and get you out of the car, and then you’re being made to lay down on a stretcher by one very blue, very furry Dr. Hank McCoy.

“Hey, doc,” you manage. “How bad do I look?”

“I’ve seen worse,” he says with a small smile. “Let’s get you fixed up.”

You can breathe without your ribs hurting.

It’s the small things in life, really.

Lucky for you, aside from the fractured ribs –and the concussion; you did, in fact, have a concussion—there weren’t any other major injuries. The healers fix you up, Hank checks you over, and then you’re being discharged with a meager amount of painkillers to help with the stiffness and soreness that’ll linger for the next few days.

It could’ve been worse. It could’ve been so much worse.

Piotr sticks by your side for all of it; he holds your hand, lets you squeeze his when you need to, and offers encouragement when he can.

Hank leaves so Piotr can help you get dressed in clean clothes, and you start crying as soon as the door closes.

Piotr’s by your side in an instant –not that he had wandered far from it in the first place. “Moya lyubov’, what is it? What’s wrong? Are you hurting?”

You mash your face against his shoulder and sob. “I’m sorry –I’m sorry that I didn’t call, and that I worried you, and that—”

He’s quick to shush you, gentle and loving as he rubs soothing circles on your back with his hands. “Nyet, nyet, nyet. This was not your fault, myshka.” He kisses the top of your head. “Let’s get you dressed, and then let’s get you food. Da?”

You sniff loudly and nod. “Yeah, okay.”

He kisses each of your eyelids. “What sounds good?”

“I want a burger. With fries.”

He chuckles and kisses the bridge of your nose. “Khorosho.”

“A lot of fries. Like, a metric ton of fries.”

He laughs again and helps you start changing out of your shirt. “We’ll see what we can do.”

Karen and Frank, surprisingly enough, are still around when Piotr walks you over to the main side of the Institute. Karen’s talking to Professor Xavier while taking notes in a little notebook, while Frank just generally looks uncomfortable and seems to be set on finding the best places to stand that’ll draw the least amount of attention to him.

He also looks a lot better, too, which means the healers must’ve gotten a hold of him.

Good.

Karen looks shocked when she sees you. “Oh, wow. I didn’t think you’d be walking at all.”

“I’ve always bounced back quick,” you say with a shrug. “But having healers that can literally make your wounds close themselves by touching you doesn’t hurt things either.”

She nods. “Yeah, I bet they don’t.”

Frank rolls his eyes, but the corner of his mouth lifts in a grin anyway.

You manage to make eye contact with him –no small feat, since he seems hellbent on memorizing the grain of the wood flooring—and nod in greeting. “Thanks for helping me out.”

He nods back. “Any time.”

“You guys alright? You need anything to eat?” You point in the direction of the kitchen. “I’m gonna have a burger—”

“Actually, we should probably head out,” Karen says. “I’ve got work tomorrow, and I still have an article that I need to wrap up before morning hits.”

The relief on Frank’s face at being given an out is palpable, so you drop it. “Alright. It was nice to meet you. Thanks for letting me bleed on your couch.”

Karen laughs and nods. “No problem. It’s definitely not the worst thing that couch has ever seen. Hopefully, if we run into each other again, it’ll be under better circumstances with less blood involved.”

“We can always hope.” As you watch them leave, an old memory flashes into your mind’s eye:

“You are the salt of the earth; but if the salt has become tasteless, how can it be made salty again? It is no longer good for anything, except to be thrown out and trampled under foot by men.”

Normally, any memories from your childhood are liable to send you reeling –especially any that connect to the countless times you were dragged into your town’s church and told, over and over, how you were a perversion of God’s creation.

But now, instead of panicking, you can’t help but regard Frank and Karen in quiet contemplation as they walk out the front door of Xavier’s; the two people that, without really knowing you or having any investment in your wellbeing past the general goodwill that decent humans possessed, had spent the past couple of hours helping you get to safety.

After a life of being beaten down –specifically by non-mutants—it’s an interesting turnabout.

You smile to yourself, just a little, as you watch Frank open the door for Karen and usher her out into the night. Salt of the earth indeed.

You wind up on the couch, nestled against Piotr’s side, happily munching on your burger while the two of you watch old Mythbusters reruns.

(You did, in fact, get a small mountain of fries –and decent servings of fruit and vegetables, because Piotr made your plate for you.)

“How are you feeling?” he asks, voice soft as he kisses the top of your head.

“Sore. Tired. Hungry.” You set your burger down. “I’m gonna need a new phone. I lost mine in the crash.”

He rubs a hand up and down your back. “We’ll get it figured out.”

“I’m gonna need a new car, too. And to replace everything in my purse.”

He wraps his arms around you as you start shaking and presses his lips against your shoulder. “Breathe, myshka. Everything will be taken care of.”

Your lower lip trembles and you squeeze your eyes shut. “I had presents for your birthday picked out and everything. I lost those, too.”

He kisses your temple, then your forehead. “I would rather have you than presents.”

“Yeah, I get it, I just—” You sniffle and rub your hands over your face. “I’m just upset about it. I get it’s not even that big a deal in the grand scheme of things, but I still just—”

He gently settles you in his lap when you start crying and rocks you back and forth. “It is okay to be upset. You had upsetting day.”

“I was just really happy with what I picked out, and now I’m not gonna be able to leave the mansion again until we figure out who went after me and why, and I really just want to be able to buy you a birthday gift, dammit.”

“I am very flattered, myshka, but trust me when I say it does not matter to me. I will not be hurt if you cannot get me gifts.”

“I know, but it matters to me.”

He goes quiet at that, opting to just hold you and rock you back and forth while you cry.

It’s been a shit day. Your car was totaled, you were kidnapped after being forced into an accident, you had to spend over an hour in the medical bay at the mansion to get your ribs patched up, and now you’re down a phone, an ID and debit card, a car, and your gifts for Piotr.

You know that you’re lucky. That things could be much, much worse. That if you hadn’t run into Frank on that rooftop, you’d probably be in the trunk of another car right now.

You’re alive, you’re healed, and you’re back with Piotr. You’ve got a lot to be grateful for.

And, in the morning, you will be grateful for it.

But it’s been a shit day, and right now all you want to do is cry over the fact that you can’t buy your boyfriend a damn replacement birthday present.

So that’s what you do. You’ve earned it.

Crying’s healthy, anyway.

#sass writes #piotr rasputin x reader #colossus x reader #frank castle x karen page #tw: child abuse #tw: kidnapping #tw: car accident #tw: injuries #this has a happy ending #it's just a very emotional fic #with lots of pain #but everything works out in the end #also frank castle DESERVES FRIENDS DAMMIT #deadpool fanfiction #x men fanfiction #punisher fanfiction

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jklmn-oh · 6 years

Text

My Girl

Genre: fluff

Summary: what a nice day it was to celebrate Jungkook’s birthday on the day you have your worst moon day

Words: 3,223

Warning : this one shot has graphic F L U F F content.

Happy birthday to my most favorite person on earth and in the universe, Jeon Jungkook.

“What do you mean no one can’t come but me?” clutching on your phone a little too tight, you officially call 31st of August as the day you hate the most. You were in the lobby of your friend’s apartment complex and apparently the rest of your friend group has already bailed on you.

Here’s the original plan: tomorrow, Septermber 1st, is your dear friend Jungkook’s birthday, and three months ago all of you, headed by Jimin, already planned a birthday surprise for the said boy, who would possibly spend his birthday playing Overwatch, or editing his films. Instead on taking him to the club and to prevent him from doing the former activity, you all decided to bring the club in his apartment – in short, the ten of you are having a house party. Taehyung, Jimin and Hoseok were in charge of food, Namjoon and Yoongi were in charge of the music, Jin is in charge of the drinks (booze, booyah!), Jena and Luna were in charge of the games for the house party, and you were in charge of the cake.

A week before, you all have prepared for this, it was almost flawless. You were even going to have your period on the said week, you call it moon day, but you brushed it off and decided you will party the hell out of your friend’s birthday and never mind your cramps.

And now, here you were, waiting for your friends for an hour already and it was only Jimin who called and say that “the others can’t make it on time, it was raining really hard and there were traffic jams everywhere. You’re the nearest to Jungkook’s crib so maybe do the countdown with him and we’ll do our best to make it tomorrow?”

Looking outside the glass walls of the apartment complex, you could see how it was indeed raining hard – you yourself was somehow wet by the rain. You could only sigh, time check: 8:45PM. How are you going to spend the remaining hours acting like you were just visiting the boy and nothing else, then suddenly bursting out with a cake and lit candle, singing him happy birthday? How were you even going to light the candle, or even gonna show up with the cake on your hand? “Fine, I’ll find a way to make it look like this cake is not for him until midnight arrives. Or that I just happen to stop by his place, just because.”

Jimin chuckled, “You’ll be fine sweet heart. Jungkook would totally be happy to see you, I’m sure of that.”

“Whatever, but please make sure to come by in the morning, okay? I’m leaving after midnight.” You say and hang up.

First of all, yes, Jungkook and you were friends, but never in your lifetime of knowing Jungkook have had you stayed in a place alone with just him. You were not the best friends type – you and Jimin are. He was the one who introduced you to the group, basically you were the last one to be a part of them as Jena and Luna were girlfriends of Namjoon and Hoseok, respectively.

To put it safe, Jungkook and you were considered close because you were both of the same age. You met them a year ago when you first visited the university before becoming a freshman. Jimin was already a junior there, alongside with Taehyung. Namjoon and Hoseok were seniors, and you and Jungkook were incoming freshmen. Jin and Yoongi just graduated but were already working. Jena and Luna were sophomores.

You decided to stand up and head to his unit, you were basically left with no choice. It’s raining hard outside, it’s not like you could go home. Besides, you’ve handpicked the cake by yourself because you badly want to try it out yourself. Also, it’s moon day – you’re on your period and it’s quite intense unlike the other months. Probably because you were out and about instead of lazing in the comforts of your home. You sigh, reminding yourself to text Jimin and tell him how much he owes you. You went in the elevator and pressed the 5th button. Jungkook’s apartment is on the fifth floor, 501 – the very first door you will see after walking a few strides from the elevator. You smiled, remembering that first and only time you get to visit the boy’s home. He was dead drunk and can barely even walk. So being the kind best friend of Jimin, who volunteered to take the stubborn boy home, there you were holding the boy around his waist firmly as he wrap one of his arms around you, even leaning his head against yours and sniffing your scent from time to time.

It’s freaking awkward, and the mere fact that his breath tickles your neck drives you crazy to the point that you want to throw him away and leave, but you had no choice. The boy was pissed drunk because his girlfriend recently broke up with him. He was sad, so all of you were there to support.

Ding dong, you pressed on his doorbell once you arrived. You heard a faint shout of his voice, was it wait? You’re not sure, but he knows there’s someone outside his door.

A minute later, he opened the door. He was in his black sweatpants and pink hoodie with bunny ears on it – how adorable. His eyes were wide, surprised to see you in front of his place. “Hey, what’s… up?”

“Uh, can I stay here for a while?” you say flatly. “It’s raining hard and I can’t exactly walk a few more steps to my place.”

Your house is seriously near his, no joke.

“What?” he asked, not reading the situation.

You smiled as you rolled your eyes. “Dumbass, not gonna lie, this cake is for you. But all our friends bailed out the last minute. So I hope you’re fine with counting down to September 1 with me.”

Jungkook grinned, showing his toothy, bunny smile – the kind of smile he shows when he’s delighted. “Wow, thanks. Come in.”

“So um, I hope you don’t mind me crashing on your couch.” You tell him as you removed your shoes and head to the living room, following him. His living room is pretty clean, and you doubt it’s the same situation in his bedroom. The reason why it’s clean there was because he’s literally living inside his bedroom – all his equipment is there. “It’s moon day.”

“Moon day?” he asked with a breathy laugh. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I’m bleeding.” You told him as you lay comfortably on the couch. Jungkook grabbed the box of cake from you and opened it after placing on the kitchen counter.

“Wow, this is my favorite!” he beamed.

“Does it taste good?” you asked as you kept your eyes closed.

“It is,” he said. “Do you want to try it now? We should-”

“-no, no.” you quickly say, “We’ll eat later at midnight. Don’t touch that until few minutes before September 1.”

You heard him sigh, and can imagine the pout on his face. You smiled and sat up. Jungkook placed the cake inside his fridge and went to you with a bottle of water on hand. “So, about your moon day, menstruations have nothing to do with the moon… you know that right?”

You glared, “well for me, it does. Moon day happens for us in order to see a beautiful moon, okay? It’s a sacrifice.”

He chuckled as he sat beside you, “You’re so weird.”

“Bet I am.” You replied. “So, what do you wanna do? We have two hours until you’re what, 22? Yes, ‘cause I turned 22 last April.”

Jungkook looked at you momentarily, until he said, “You wanna borrow one of my shirts? Yours is wet and we don’t want you catching a cold.”

“Okay.” You smiled. Jungkook stood up and head to his room. Few seconds later, he had a white sweatshirt on hand, because it’s cold, and his hard drive on the other.

“Here,” he said. “You can change in the bathroom right there.”

You stood up and thanked him, “what’s up with that?”

“Let’s watch a movie.” He said as he connected the USB cord to the port behind his television. You went in the bathroom and quickly changed. Once settled, you went back and sat on the couch beside Jungkook who was picking which movie to watch. You snatched the remote from him, causing him to gape at you.

“Let’s watch anime, it’s what you like, right?” you asked him as you skim through movies in the folder named Ghibli.

“You know I like them?” he asked you.

You froze, how did you know it? “Um, yeah? I’m sure I saw you watching it on your phone one time. I assumed you like them.”

“Ah, okay.”

The both of you watched the movie in silence. Halfway through it, however, your navel started to feel painful unlike a while ago. It makes you wanna lie down. You look around, no other couch, but you could probably lie down the floor. You poked Jungkook’s arm, turning his attention to you. You suddenly realized how sharp his features were, considering that the only light illuminating his face was the flashing television lights. “Yes?” he whispered.

“Do you have a mat for me to lie on? I wanna lie down,” you told him.

“You can lie down here,” he said as he moved out of the couch. “I can sit on the floor.”

“No, no.” you exclaimed, but in a whisper. “Your butt will hurt.”

“It’s okay.” He whispered back with a smile.

“Nah, I’m fine. Sit back here.” You tell him.

He sat back, but then whispered again, “You can lie down my lap, if you want.”

Not gonna lie, but on one of your drunken nights, you did imagine what’d his thighs feel like if you lie your head on them.

What the hell, Y/N? Stop your hormones.

“O-Okay,” you tell him, “but don’t go complaining if my head is heavy.”

“I won’t.” he laughed.

“Why are we whispering?” you ask him once you finally settled your head on his lap, which is freaking warm, wow. Can you like, hug them? Nah, kidding.

Jungkook only laughed as he focused back on the television. A few moments later, you realized how your eyes are starting to close, “Jungkook…”

“Yeah?” he asked, looking down at you. You were still looking at the screen as you lightly draw circles on his right knee in hopes of distracting yourself from sleeping.

“Wake me up when it’s 11:50, okay? You have to blow the candles.” You mumbled.

You heard Jungkook chuckling, caressing your hair, it feels so good that you dare not stop him, and eventually falling asleep.

Only to wake up a few minutes after, with Jungkook looking at you, still caressing your hair with his hand in a brush like motion. Damn, if his girlfriend experience this kind of warmth and comfort then why the hell did she broke up with him? “Hey, is it midnight yet?” you asked him, sitting up as you stretch your arms, slightly brushing his head, earning a laugh from the boy.

“Actually, it has been fifteen minutes when September 1 arrived.”

You scowl, “What? I told you to wake me up before then!”

“You were sleeping so peacefully, I got… distracted.” He mumbled, looking away from you.

“Wh-Why?” you asked, clearly confused.

“You looked so cute when sleeping, you were even frowning from time to time.” He told you. “That sounded wrong, don’t hurt me though. It’s my birthday.”

“Ah, so now you’re using your birthday card to continue on with teasing me huh?” you grinned, “it’s my cramps, you idiot. It hurts. Having period hurts, it sucks.”

Jungkook only looked at you, amused.

“Being a girl sucks.”

“Being my girl wouldn’t.”

Silence. There was dead silence in the living room as the both of you continued to stare at each other. Did Jungkook really say that? What are you supposed to say back? Why is your heart pounding and why are you blushing, suddenly wanting to just pounce him into a hug?

You don’t like him, do you?

Actually, you do, but it’s something that you consider not harmful because you tend to forget it. One, the two of you are friends, only super close when around your friend group. Second, the both of you has never had a one on one interaction until now. He’s cute, fun and smart, why would you not like him, right?

But what surprises you is what he said. Is he trying to flirt with you? Or does he really mean what he just said? Because if he does then wow, apparently someone likes you! That’s major progress as a woman, Y/N.

“Excuse me?” you said, “what did you say?”

“Never mind.” Jungkook said, blushing furiously as he tried to avoid the conversation by standing up. But you were not one to be avoided, so you stood up and came following him to the kitchen.

“What was that Jungkook? Did you just flirt with me?!” you said, playful.

“No.” he said immediately, getting the cake out of the fridge. He placed it on the counter isle and retrieved a knife, fork and small plate from the cupboard. You watched him try and measure the cake when you stop him, “you’re still supposed to blow the candle.”

He smiled, “Nah, I got my wish already, there’s no need in wishing for more.”

“So, what did you wish?” you asked curiously, but getting flustered you brush it off. “Never mind, wished don’t come true of you say them aloud.”

“I wished for you to spend time with me.”

Your cheeks turned rosy pink when he did not look away from you. “Uh, really? Why?”

“Goodness, Y/N.” Jungkook groaned while keeping his smile on, “are trying to play push and pull with me now?”

“Wh-What do you mean?”

“I mean I like you, Y/N. And I asked them not to come and celebrate my birthday with me because I want us to celebrate my birthday.” He said in one breath, and another, “Even if celebrating means us watching anime and you sleeping on my lap. I like celebrating happy days with you. And if you’re going to ask me when I started liking you, I did when you answered my ex-girlfriend’s call a year ago. You ended my break and make up cycle with her and you showed me how amazing you are as a person and it made me want to know you more on a deeper level than this awkward friendship that we currently have-”

You remember that ex-girlfriend. She liked breaking up with Jungkook just because he wouldn’t make it to her apartment on time, or when the boy needs to take extra hours in some of his classes. She’s a basic bitch who is basically obsessed with controlling Jungkook, and the boy seems to not like the idea, but he does anyway since he loved her so much. The night Jungkook got super drunk, the girl came calling and asking the boy to come back to her. Of course, Jungkook is going to crumple and crawl back to her, so you stopped it by answering the phone.

“Hey, I don’t care about your three-year relationship with Jungkook. I care about my friend and your way of loving him is too unhealthy. If you love someone, you let them become the person they should and not how you want them to be. I’m blocking you now and leave him alone.”

“- I like you so much, Y/N, and I hope you’d go on a date with me.”

Another minute of silence pass as your try to internalize everything that the boy just revealed to you. It’s not like you could ask questions, because before he revealed to you why he liked you was why he liked you. Sensing how you will not be able to speak because, well, clearly you were surprised and this is not something that you have expected, he sighed, starting to keep the cake inside the box. “I-I’m sorry, Y/N. You don’t need to answer me now, you know? I’m not taking it back, and I’m going to wait. Geez, this is so embarrassing but,” he raked his hand up his hair, revealing his glorious forehead that you have turned to adore, “I waited a long time for me to confess, so I can wait for another year or longer to wait for your answer.”

Silence.

“What are you doing?” you finally say as Jungkook started to walk towards the fridge with the cake on his hand.

“Keeping the cake, you should rest.” He say, voice trembling. Wait, is he going to cry? No, no.

“Jeon Jungkook!” you blurted as you swiftly walked his way and held him by the shoulders as if you were the taller person. He was clearly shocked as he looked at you, even more shocked when you decided to kiss his cheek.

“Y/N… why…”

“H-Happy birthday!” you exclaimed, moving away from him.

“Look, um…” he spoke, looking a bit disappointed. “You don’t have to do that just because I confessed. It will only make me like you more and it hurts.”

“What? No!” you said, stepping closer as if you were a kid trying to defend a point. “I like you! Uh, a little? And I know that’s not a valid reason for you to believe but this is why I’m going on a date with you, okay? We have to clarify whatever feelings we have.”

Jungkook’s wide doe eyes looked straight through your own. A while ago, it was Jungkook who was nervous as hell he confessed, and now here you were, realizing how beautiful it is to fall for someone as genuine as Jungkook. “You like me?”

“Yes! Goodness, do I have to repeat?” you groaned as you grabbed the cake from him to get yourself a slice. “Let me eat the cake so I can leave.”

“Wait, why are you leaving?” Jungkook pouted.

Angrily, you cut a slice and placed it on the small plate and grabbed the fork to cut bite size and quickly shoved it to the boy’s hanging mouth. “Because I need to rest up and dress nicely for our date later, okay?”

“Date? We’re going on a date?” Jungkook gasped, chewing the cake. “Damn, this cake really taste so good- woah, that’s my fork…”

“Jungkook, why are you so innocent?” you laughed, chewing the piece of cake you just placed on your mouth. “Yes, we are going on a date? Now, if you want to do other things on your birthday that doesn’t include going out with me then it’s totally fine-”

“-NO! I’m going out with you!!!” Jungkook quickly say.

“Okay,” you smiled, motioning him to come closer to him. “Come here and let’s hug.”

The both of you smiled as you and Jungkook had the warmest hug in the cold night. It wasn’t exactly a pleasant day for you, and it was a total disaster for Jungkook to get to confess his admiration towards you through your cursed moon day. But hey, it’s still a win-win situation, right?

#gguknet #jungkook #jeongguk #jungkook fluff #jeongguk fluff #happy birthday jungkook #thank you for being an inspiration #i aim to be you #fluff #fanfic #fanfiction #bts scenario #bts fanfiction #bangtan #bangtan boys

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bookmawkish · 6 years

Text

Suddenly His Problem [Heckyl: DINO CHARGE CANON DIVERGENCE]

No I don’t know why I wrote this when I have so many other ideas (and much better prompts) and I’m not incapably drunk why would you think that

@worldoftherandom because you are my partner in Heckyl crime

People didn’t phone Chase at work. They really didn’t. Truth be told, if you’d asked him, he probably would have said that the old landline hitched to the wall just inside the supply cupboard door didn’t even work. However, his own feeling about it regardless, as he’s cleaning up the kitchen on the first Saturday night after the world almost ended (and hell, the world almost ending certainly put people in the mood to eat out. The café had been packed to bursting for the past two days) the phone rings. Persistently.

Chase is alone except for Ivan, who is out front trying to hurry up the last few stragglers to finish their Cretaceous Cheesecake and pay their bills. He’s loading the dishwasher, and has to wipe off his hands and stumble quickly to the wall - he makes it just in time.

“Hello?” he says, letting all his bafflement come out plainly in his tone.

“That the Dino Bite Café?” says an unfamiliar male voice. British accent. The line is noisy. A lot of background chatter, and music, and the clamour of a busy room.

“Yeah?” says Chase, still none the wiser.

“Ah, great,” the voice says, and they do sound relieved, whoever they are. “Thought you’d have all gone home already. Who am I speaking to?”

“Uh, Chase. Chase Randall. The cook.”

“Hi Chase. It’s Gary from The Inkwell down the street.”

Chase’s frown deepens. The Inkwell was a bar. Not one of the nicest ones in town, but still a bar. “Look, can you come down here and pick up your friend? He’s not looking too great and I don’t want to just throw him out like that, you know?”

Chase is instantly thrown into turmoil. Tyler? Riley? Not Ivan, Ivan’s here.

“What friend?” is all he can manage.

“Ah, sorry, he works for you, I assumed he was your friend, you guys all seem pretty tight in there. Your waiter? The tall one with the sharp suit?”

When Chase, startled, doesn’t immediately respond Gary continues, starting to sound doubtful. “Ellis recognised him, said he worked for you? He took her order when she came in for her birthday a while ago. I asked if she was sure, she said she was, no other bloke in town has blue hair -”

“That’s him,” Chase blurts out, more to himself than to the phone. “That’s Heckyl.”

“Heckyl?” repeats Gary, evidently both amused and incredulous. “Well, that explains a lot. If my parents had named me Heckyl I’d’ve been getting drunk every night.”

Chase’s mind races. Heckyl. Who had disappeared entirely after giving them the tipoff about the greenzillas. Who had not turned up to fight alongside Snide or Sledge or the Rangers or anyone during the final battle. Who had adamantly denied that there was any good in him or anything on Earth worth saving. Where had he been this whole time? And, more importantly, what was he doing right now in a dive bar?

Chase voiced that final query aloud, and Gary barked a hoarse laugh. “He’s drunk as a skunk, mate. That’s why I called you. Normally I just chuck the drunks out in the street at the end of the night, but your buddy here looks like he’s about ready to drop right now and it’s hours til closing. Plus he‘s drinking me out of vodka and I‘m pretty sure he‘s run out of cash.”

Vodka? Chase is finding all this very hard to process. For some reason he cannot fathom, Heckyl being incapably drunk in a bar has suddenly become his problem. Heckyl. He must have made a strangled sort of sound, because Gary misinterprets it, and hastens to reassure him. “Look, he’s okay, all right? He’s just had enough. More than enough. He’s going to be sick as a dog when he sobers up. Can you come down? I’ll keep an eye on him until you get here.”

“I’ll - I’ll be right there,” says Chase, because there really isn’t anything else he can say, and Gary, after thanking him profusely and Britishly, rings off.

Chase stands in the kitchen for a long moment, frozen to the spot with complete shock, then remembers that Heckyl has powers. And a completely uncontrollable temper. And now, quite likely, a much lowered set of inhibitions due to liquor.

He tears out of the kitchen in a panic, dragging off his apron as he goes, and almost runs straight into Ivan, who is chaperoning a couple of old ladies out into the night. Ivan sees the look on Chase’s face, hastens the customers with a huge grin and pats on the arm, then turns, all business.

“What is it? What has happened? Where is the fight?”

“I need you to come with me to a bar,” says Chase, caught in a fit of agonised anxiety. “Right now.”

He’s never been so grateful for Ivan’s unwavering faith. The knight does not question. He simply pulls off his own apron, folds it neatly onto the nearest table, and locks the doors dutifully as they both hurry out into the dark street.

When they reach The Inkwell, it’s not hard to find Gary. He’s the big man behind the bar, remonstrating with one of his staff. It would be difficult to imagine anyone more Gary-like than Gary: muscular, tattooed, absolutely no nonsense but friendly as all hell. He also has a purpling bruise on the side of his jaw.

Chase hurries to the bar and waits in agitation as Gary finishes up his conversation. He can’t help but scan the crowded bar, looking for Heckyl. God knows, Heckyl was bad enough in general, but angry drunk Heckyl would be something else entirely. Ivan, hanging back at Chase’s shoulder, looks quizzical. He still has no idea what they’re doing here.

“- told you to cut him off,” Gary was saying.

“I don’t know what to tell you,” the bartender was saying. “He - he didn’t look that drunk. Or sound it.”

“Ah, get out of here,” Gary growls, evidently unimpressed by his staff’s observational skills, and turns away. Chase’s intently anxious expression evidently draws his eye, and he raises a hand, jabs a finger in the Ranger’s direction.

“Now you must be Chase Randall. Thanks for coming. Come round, I’ve stashed your buddy in back. He took a bit of offence at my cutting him off, and seeing as he packs a pretty punch for such a skinny guy, I thought I’d better put him somewhere to cool down.”

“I am so sorry about him,” Chase says, mortified because the bruise suddenly makes horrible sense, but Gary waves this off.

“He’s drunk, kiddo, he ain’t himself. I didn’t have the heart to call the cops on him. He was nice as pie to start off with. Very polite, if a bit sarcastic. But if you ask me he was miserable as all crap when he started drinking, and drinking hasn’t made him any happier. Maybe you can talk out his problems with him once he’s slept it off, might help. Anyway.”

He’s led them both to a door marked “Private Bar”. “Usually use this for parties. Your friend Heckyl is a pity party all by himself if you ask me. Take as long as you need, when you’re ready, take him out the back. There’s a fire door, it’s not alarmed, just push the bar and go on out.” And he holds the door open. Chase takes a deep breath, and walks in.

#gary is probably me #but also I am incapably drunk so Heckyl is me #Chase Randall #Heckyl #power rangers fanfic #power rangers dino charge #dino supercharge #ivan of zandar #drunk

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cactiem · 6 years

Text

Storms and Advice

Pairing: Sweet Pea x Reader

Requested: Anonymous

Prompts: #2 "You- you are-" "Gorgeous, a genius, incredibly talented?" "Dangerous."

#7 "I hate you." "No you don’t."

Summary: Sweet Pea, the person you are at odds with, actually gives you good advice.

GIF Not Mine

You were walking home when it started raining so you ran into the nearest building which so happened to be the Whyte Wyrm. Luckily the door was unlocked but as you walked you found out why. Sweet Pea had also took refuge in the Wyrm. You groaned when you saw him. Hate was a strong word to describe your feelings towards him, you just didn’t get along for some reason. "Oh, it’s you." Sweet Pea said, not too thrilled at your arrival, as he put down the pool cue thinking you were some Ghoulie or something.

"Don’t be too thrilled about it." You took off your wet coat and hung it up, shuffling further into the room. "It��s torrential rain outside and I’m not walking in that so it looks like you’re stuck with me for a bit." Sweet Pea grumbled inaudible words to himself and went back to sitting on at the bar playing on his phone.

The two of you sat in silence, the only thing that could be heard was the pitter pattering of the rain on the roof. You were bored so naturally you decided to practice your knife throwing skills, in the past it has been proven to be a useful skill. You threw the knife, narrowly missing Sweet Pea's and landing on the wall behind him. His head shot up when he heard the sound of the knife pass him, looking between you and the knife that nearly stabbed him. "What the hell!?" Sweet Pea exclaimed. "You- you are-"

"Gorgeous, a genius, incredibly talented?" You grinned.

"Dangerous. Why on Earth would you do that?"

"I was bored." You shrugged.

"So you decided to throw a knife at me?" He asked before shaking his and mumbling. "I hate you."

"No you don’t." You snickered, hearing what he mumbled.

"Fine I don’t hate you but you’re unbelievably annoying." Sweet Pea shot at you, standing up and making his way over to you.

"And you’re an angel, Mr angry all the time?" You shot back also standing up and squaring him, having to look up at him.

Sweet Pea scoffed and shook his head slightly at your retort. "Whatever you say miss cold." As soon as he said that the previous playful atmosphere that would surround the two of you when you made jabs at each other disappeared. You took a seat again and looked down, a slight frown etched on your face. Sweet Pea knew instantly that his statement hurt you. He didn’t mean anything by it. "I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean that."

"But you did. It’s fine, you’re not wrong. I am cold. You’re not the first guy to tell me that." You admitted with sorrow filling your voice. Your head was still looking down so you jumped slightly when Sweet Pea sat down next to you. Every guy you had dated or even try to date you have told you you’re cold just because you didn’t open up to them, something you found difficulty in doing.

"Look, growing up like the way we did Y/N... it’s only natural that we don’t let people in. We’re always afraid that they’ll just leave us one day and we just don’t want to go through the heartbreak of that but that’s not a way to live. Look around you Y/N, there are people who care about you and who won’t leave you. Open up to them."

"That’s surprisingly good advice." You let out a short laugh. "Thank you, Sweet Pea." It was a genuine thank you. This is the first time you’ve had a conversation with Sweet Pea that doesn’t make you strongly dislike him. For the first time you see him in a different light.

Requests are open

Tag List (Still Open): @taliajromanoff @mayasmedberg @lunarmoonwolf @esoltis280 @princess-of-the-fandoms @live--aloud @betty-dale @thejulietfarciertlove @fangirling-central @angrykittty24 @kytty27 @rhyxn @notalwaysfair @walkingkhaleesi @rochyu @inspiredbynewt @pharaohkiller @southsideicons @superchals @serpent-squad

#sweet pea imagine #sweet pea x reader #sweet pea #riverdale imagine #riverdale

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thekrazykeke · 6 years

Photo

Title: and it hurts like hell

Fandom(s): Deadpool, MCU

Relationship(s): Wade Wilson x reader. Bucky Barnes x reader. Bucky Barnes x Wade Wilson x reader

Series (War of Hearts): Sequel to Ass Backwards.

Summary: Sometimes what the world needs isn’t another hero, but a monster.

Warning(s): Angst, cameos by other MCU superheros (and villains), fourth wall breaking, inter-species relationship, violence, pre-polyamorous relationship, eventual polyamorous relationship

Tagging: @keya168

Something wet splashes against your cheek.

Pupils fluttering behind closed eyelids, you struggle to return to the waking world, feeling uncharacteristically resistant to that idea. After a few minutes, you manage to do so, the task proving to be a herculean feat. The sight that greets you is not the dark and perpetually chilly cell that you’d been forced into, nor your grandmother’s living room.

It’s a building, or a warehouse. Graffiti lines the walls, trash is scattered along the floor, a ratty sofa is lodged awkwardly in a corner and there’s a few sleeping bags, even a tent, with an industrialized, rusting metal trash can smack dab in the middle of the room.

“Go get Jamie, you dunderhead, and stop gawking!”

“Why do I have to be the one that gets ‘im? You go.”

‘Please, don’t be so loud.’ Eyes fluttering half closed again, you attempt to sit up, ignoring the unfamiliar voices whisper-shouting overhead, for now.

“Because between us, you’re the one with the longer legs, genius. It only makes sense.”

A hush suddenly fell over the room, although you strained your ears, you couldn’t hear any footfalls, even as the individual came closer. “Miss, are you well? Do you understand what I’m saying?”

Your eyes opened once again and you just barely manage to focus on the person. He’s tall, Caucasian, brunette, scruffy looking with a beard and had eyes that are either pale blue or grey.

“...What ‘m I doing here? Where am I?”

Again, the brunette spoke, “Phillip found you collapsed about a block from here.” He nodded to the left and you glanced in the direction he’d signaled, seeing an dark brown skinned male in his early forties, glasses askew and the left lens cracked. “Brought you back here, made sure you were comfortable.”

Phillip puffed up with pride, though he tried to contain his reaction. “Couldn’t just leave you out there. Nasty folk runnin’ ‘round these days. Had to chase off some hooligans up to no good.”

“My head’s a little fuzzy right now, but thank you.”

“Hmph! Fuzzy, huh?”

“And that’s Lorenzo. Ignore everything he says. I do.” Phillips cautioned, cutting his eyes at the other Caucasian male, red haired, balding, with green eyes narrowed in suspicion and distrust.

“I’m just saying, you shouldn’t have brought her back here. She was bleeding something fierce--”

You couldn’t help interrupting, “I was bleeding, for real?” Briefly patting yourself down, checking for wounds and expecting pain.

“And she can’t even remember that she was bleeding, or why.” Lorenzo continued on, tone pointed and biting. “We don’t even know her, we’ve never seen her walk these streets, so--”

This time ‘Jamie’ interrupted. “We should give her a chance.” Lorenzo shot him a withering glance. “Like the two of you took a chance on me.”

Phillip was quick to throw his two cents in. “Thank you!” He turned to look at you. “Do you remember your name, kid? Or where you’re from, how you got like this?”

“My name’s Y/N.” You say confidently. “I was on my way to see my boyfriend...” A dull throbbing began to pound insistently at your temples. “It was Tuesday. I went to see him then. Something happened, I think I got jumped? They put something over my mouth and nose, it made me tired.”

“...Holy shit...” Lorenzo muttered.

You glance at Jamie and Phillip, both who traded loaded looks. “What is it?”

“It’s Sunday.” Jamie stated, tone matter of fact, features carefully neutral.

“Holy shit.” You breathed, fighting the urge to give into hysterical laughter.

Although you were reluctant to go to the hospital, Phillip was insistent that you had to choose to do something. There’s a very real possibility that the people who took you over a week ago could have hurt you. You understood and even appreciated his efforts, but hemmed and hawwed over it until Lorenzo eventually distracted him by making a ‘joke’, while Jamie gave you some loose change.

He was strangely intuitive, seeming to get that you needed to talk to your mother, hear her voice. You’d been away from her a week and while you’re mostly independent, you hadn’t gone a day without texting or calling her since your teenage years.

‘Get it together. A shitty day doesn’t give you the excuse to go all white girl Becky, woe is me, the world is ending.’ Fidgeting, you twirled the phone cord around your fingertip, listening to phone ring and ring.

And ring.

Then...

{Hello?}

Unbidden, tears welled up at the corners of your eyes. A lump was stuck in your throat and you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t speak.

{Hello? Hello?}

“M-Mama, I--”

A pale hand reached out and ended the call. You were about to turn around and chew the person out but it was Jamie. “What the fuck?” You hissed. He crowded you in that tiny booth and you felt uncomfortable. “Seriously, you gotta back the fuck up.”

Ignoring your warning, he came even closer, his lips brushed against the shell of your ear. “See that guy across the street? No, don’t look!” You swallowed, heart in your throat. “He’s been watching you for the past fifteen minutes. And there’s a van, black, tinted windows, it’s been circling that cafe for more than twenty minutes.”

“It could be a coincidence.” Even as you gave life to that flimsy excuse, behind your eyelids, you caught a flash of a memory, recalling a black van cutting you off in both directions as you tried to run.

“You need to come with me.”

“Sorry, my mama taught me never to follow strange men to places beyond yonder.” You sassed.

Jamie looked equally parts amused, part exasperated and just as he nodded, about to back up, suddenly that van he mentioned drove by once again, the door opening to reveal men, soldiers, and one of the crew is manning a machine gun, aimed directly at the two of you.

Eyes widening, you froze like a deer in headlights. Jamie shoved you to the ground, his body shielding your own as the bullets ricocheted and sprinkled glass down around you both.

B-Bump! B-Bump!

It feels like cotton is in your ears or your head’s underwater. You can’t hear anything, you barely understand anything, but when Jamie grabs your arm, you don’t hesitate to grasp the appendage tightly, holding onto the appendage for dear life in a world that had so suddenly gone crazy.

“--ove. Move, move! Surround them, surround them, don’t let them escape!”

You came back to the sound of a woman screaming, someone’s baby is screaming, and while a part of you is concerned, self-preservation triumphs and survival is your main priority.

Confidently, Jamie stands right in front of you as the military personnel advance on the two of you, guns at the ready, fingers on the trigger.

Fuck, this a shitty Sunday.

The nearest soldier, the spokesperson of the group, said tersely, “We’re going to give the two of you one chance to get down on the ground with your hands behind your head. If you move, we will shoot you.”

“Aren’t they going to shoot anyway?” Your lips barely move as you mutter the words underneath your breath.

Somehow he heard you. “We even twitch and they light us up like the fourth of July.”

“So, we’re going through them, right?”

Jamie didn’t respond, merely took off his glove on his right hand, revealing a metal hand? No, a metal arm with a red star at the top of his shoulder. He shifted his stance and one of the twitchy military brats fired, his shot going wild, missing his face by a wide margin, and nearly clipping you in the ear.

All it took was a breath and then he was in motion, charging straight at the group while you ran away from the fighting. Or tried to, you were cut off by another black van blocking the passage way and taking up space on the sidewalk.

The feeling of deja vu became even stronger, as did the throbbing in your temples.

Blinking, you tried to shake off the sensation and hopped over the hood of the car, only when you hit the ground, the earth shattered a little beneath your feet, the ricochet reverberating up to your teeth. The van’s door was about to open and you reached down, grabbing the nearest object, and shove it through the door’s handle; the object you’d grabbed turned out to be a STOP sign.

‘Hoooooly shit.’

You heard someone take the safety off of their gun and you turn your head. It was a female soldier, eyes cold as ice, and she pulled the trigger.

But nothing happened.

She did it again and again as you stood up, feeling rage and irritation flow through you. Throwing the gun at your face, she attempted to lash out at you with her foot, perhaps wanting to engage in hand-to-hand combat, and you grabbed the appendage, lifting her right off the ground before slamming her down into the unforgiving concrete once, twice, before grabbing her other foot, spinning around in a half circle and chucked her away, she flew through the air and crashed into a speeding car.

She did not get up again.

Hearing the roar of an engine, you turn and catch sight of Jamie on a motorcycle. ”Feel like coming with me now?” Questions were burning at the back of your tongue, ready to be put into coherent sentences, but you found you nodded anyway and got on the bike behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist.

Questions could wait.

#mcu #bucky barnes #mcu imagine #bucky barnes imagine #marvel #black reader #marvel imagine #bucky barnes x reader #thekrazykeke

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caedynscorner · 6 years

Text

Angel With a Shotgun

A/N: So i think this is kinda shit, but figured i’d post it anyway. Let me know if you like it! Minor spoilers ahead if you aren’t caught up with the show! Set during 13:18.

I’m an angel with a shotgun, fighting till the wars won.

I don’t care if heaven won’t take me back.

I’ll throw away my faith babe, just to keep you safe.

Don’t you know you’re everything I have?”

With a flutter of wings, Gabriel was gone. Castiel and Sam staring at the spot where he had been standing in astonishment. I rushed off toward the door, Cas yelling my name. I thundered up the stairs, momentarily catching Sam’s confused look. I had never run after anyone, and certainly never left without telling Sam. Cas caught me as soon as I had gotten out the door.

“Finley! Stop! What are you doing?” I turned to look at him, stopping him in his tracks.

“I’m going after Gabe. I have to do this. He’s scared, and-and hurt. Even if you are too blind to see it.” Cas rolled his eyes.

“He’s a dick Finley. I don’t understand why you keep chasing after our brother like this. And the Winchester’s still don’t know about you, do they?” he asked accusingly.

“Don’t you dare tell them what I am Castiel. I am going after Gabriel and you cannot stop me. I’ll be back soon, cover for me? Please Cas. Do this for me?” I pleaded.

“Tell them then. Tell them what you are.” I shook my head.

“I can’t do that. I can’t tell them. I’ve been keeping this secret for three years now. Don’t make this harder than it is. They won’t trust me if I tell them!”

“Then that’s your fault. Tell them the truth, and I will lie to Sam this once.” I sighed in defeat, I needed to get to Gabe and I knew Cas wouldn’t give in.

“Fine. I’ll tell them when I get back.” Cas nodded, and I flew off, following Gabriel’s trail. He hadn’t gotten far, only about a mile away, into a patch of woods. I landed beside him, crumpled on the ground. I cocked my head to the side.

“Did you seriously fall out of the sky? Or did Dad strike you down?” I asked. He scoffed.

“Dad doesn’t give a damn about me. Obviously.” I lowered myself down to his level, him flinching away.

“Ah, that’s why you left. You juiced up all right and smited Asmodeus, but you’re still afraid. That’s why you ran off instead of helping the only humans you seem to care for.” Gabriel cowered away from me. I could see right through him, what Sam and even Cas hadn’t seen. Sure, Gabe had gotten his grace back, but he was still terrified.

“Sure, you’re a dick, we all know that Gabe. But you’re scared. And that’s normal. What you went through, all of this trauma is normal.”

“Not for an Archangel,” he pouted. I finally sat down beside him, and he flinched away again. I gently reached for his hand but thought better of it and pulled away. Gabriel had always had a soft spot for me. I was the youngest angel, and one of the only girls. I had always been closest to Gabriel. His tricks always entertained me, and he loved how easily he could make me laugh.

“Baby sister, you fell so early. You cared for humanity so much, you had always cared for them the way Dad did. You always tried to fix things. In Heaven, on Earth. But the one thing you can’t fix, is me.” I rolled my eyes, “You followed Lucifer. Caring for humans was your sin.”

“Do not compare me to Lucifer. That asshat is nothing like me. I followed Cas. He fell to save Dean. I fell to save Sam. Castiel can’t save both of them. Someone needed to save Sam.” He rolled his eyes.

“Exactly. You try to fix everything. Some broken things can’t be fixed.” I grabbed his hand suddenly, feeling him try to jerk away, but I held steady.

“You know, even Castiel doesn’t like you. Sam wants to. He wants to trust you.”

“A poor decision honestly.” He said sarcastically. I glared at him. d

“Can you drop the act for like two seconds? What happened to the Gabriel that I grew up with? The one who would tell stories to the younger angels and play tricks on us all? What happened?”

“He died. About seven years ago. I broke to pieces when I fell to help save the world from Lucifer. It was supposed to be the Archangels job, but we all failed. Michael died, I ran away. I failed.” He finally dropped the bravado surrounding him, and held my gaze steady for the first time, his eyes tinted the blue light of an Archangel.

Even with his grace restored, he was still broken. The thing about the angels were that we had to heal after we fell. Cas and I had the Winchesters. Cas directly, me indirectly. Gabriel had healed quickly, but then Asmodeus had broken him again. His body was still intact, but his mind wasn’t.

“You’re scared Gabriel. Still a dick, but at least this is a little bit warranted with what happened to you. You suffered major trauma, but so have the Winchester’s and Cas. They can help you. We both know Asmodeus can come back. He a Prince of Hell for Dad’s sake. But the Winchester’s can protect you.” Gabe rolled his eyes.

“The Winchester’s won’t help me now.”

“You’re right, they won’t. And that’s your fault. But they still need your grace, and we both know Dean won’t stop until he gets it.” Gabriel dropped my hand and looked at me, terrified.

“No one will ever take my grace again.” He growled.

“Oh my God Gabe. Taking your grace doesn’t have to hurt. Do you know how many times I’ve given up my grace to save Castiel’s ass? It won’t hurt if you give it willingly,” he shied away from me, “I’m not saying I’m gonna take it from you. But we are going to need it, need you. Sam wasn’t lying when he said we need you. But, go run off like you always do. I’ll keep your little secret. Just come back to us, please?” He sighed and stood up, I followed. He looked angry at me for a second, and then he smiled.

“For you, little sister, anything. I’ll be back, I promise.” He kissed my head and flew off. I sighed, feeling my phone vibrate. I figured it was Sam, probably calling me back to the bunker. I flew to the end of our road, slowly trudging back to the bunker door. Sam was outside, waiting for me.

“Dean’s back. He’s pissed, but we’re more worried about you now. Cas said you had something to tell us?” he phrased it like a question, watching me nervously. I gulped and nodded my head.

I was standing in front of the boys, Cas watching me encouraging. I knew if I told them, I would lose their trust. But hopefully not for long. I had hidden my grace from everyone, almost to the point where I forgot I was an angel sometimes, especially when I was hunting. It took Cas awhile to realize what I was. Just like it took the Winchesters five years to figure out Chuck was God.

“So, it’ll just be easier to show you. I know I should have told you a long time ago, and I apologize in advance, and I know that I’ll probably lose your trust, but, understand that I hid this to protect myself.” I closed my eyes and let my wings unfurl, the brothers gasping at the shadows of my wings on the bunker walls.

“You’re-you’re an angel,” Dean sputtered out. I opened my eyes, Dean looking at me in amazement. Sam wouldn’t meet my eyes.

“Yes. I’m so sorry I hid it all from you. And that I had dragged Cas into hiding it too.” Dean’s eyes flashed to Cas, who looked ashamed.

“Why? Why would you hide this? How did you hide this?”

“The same way Chuck did. I hid my wings, and angles have this particular magic that makes it hard for humans to see them for what they really are. It was safer that way. I wouldn’t be tracked or attacked. I wouldn’t bring any more monsters after you two.” Dean smiled softly, but before he could say anything else, Sam got up and left. We had all watched in silence as he left the bunker, slamming the door shut behind him. I sunk down into a chair.

“I knew I’d lose everything,” I mumbled. Sam and I had always been the closest, and I was madly in love with him. Dean smiled.

“You didn’t lose him, you will never lose him. Just give him a little bit.” I nodded and stalked off to my room.

I quickly took a shower and changed into jeans and a flannel shirt. I pulled my wavy blonde hair back in two braids and pulled on a pair of brown, knee high boots. I slipped on Dean’s green jacket, the green color coming out in my greenish blue eyes. I slipped a blade into my boot and grabbed my bag. I shuffled my wings, flying to the nearest bar, the one that fronted a pack of werewolves, the same ones that had been killing people in the woods around the bunker, the same pack we had been hunting.

Of course, Sam would be here. He’s looking for a fight. I thought angrily. Sam was sitting at a booth in the back of the room, his long curly brown hair hiding his face, head bowed over a half empty mug of beer. I moved toward him, walking almost silently, but he still looked up as I neared, pain flashing behind his hazel eyes. He looked back down as I sat across from him.

“Sam, I’m sorry. I know I should have told you when I met ya’ll. But I was just trying to protect myself.”

“I know,” he said gruffly, “That’s what makes it worse. You didn’t trust us to protect you.” I laughed lightly.

“I never needed your protection. I’m an angel Sammy. I can protect myself. I fell to Earth to save you. Castiel can’t handle both you and Dean. Chuck sent me down, same as Cas. I came too late though. You had already been saved by Cas, plenty of times. I pretended to be a hunter, and you and Dean graciously brought me into the bunker. I can never repay you.” He finally looked at me, nervously.

“I fell around the time you sacrificed yourself to stop the Apocalypse. I didn’t hear anything about you for a few years, until one day, Cas found me. He told me everything and from then on, we both worked to keep you safe. I stayed in New York for a while, before following you down to a hunt, where you finally met me.” I had tracked the Winchesters down to Nashville, claiming I had followed the werewolf pack down there. When in reality, I was following Sam.

“I’m sorry I lied this entire time,” I mumbled, looking at my hands.

“You told us you had lost your brother. I’m guessing you weren’t really lying?” he asked. I shook my head.

“No. I was talking about Gabriel. He had always been my favorite brother, and me his favorite. I fell right after Gabe supposedly died. I never knew he was alive. I was just as surprised as you.” Sam nodded slowly.

“Seems like he tricked everyone.” I laughed lightly. “Why do I have an angel? I thought I was Lucifer’s vessel? Just another one of Hell’s pawns. I’m just the person with demon blood in my veins.”

“Sam stop,” I said, cutting him off, “Either one of you could have been Lucifer or Michaels vessels. Azazael chose you for some twisted reason or another. But that shouldn’t matter. You are beyond special. You have both heaven and hell in your veins. And no matter what, you deserve saving. You deserve to be saved. You have done so much good for this world, and if Chuck wanted you in heaven, he would’ve stopped sending angels after your ass a long time ago.” Sam finally laughed, a half smile crossing his lips.

“I love you Sammy. More than I should,” I mumbled. His eyes widened in shock.

“You-you… Love me?” I looked up at him.

“Of course, I do. More than you’ll ever know.”

“Try me,” he smirked, “I love you too. I always have.”

Suddenly, the werewolves came out, snarling “Winchester” in our direction. Sam glanced over at me, I had brought a backpack with a shotgun in it. I pulled it out carefully, resting it on my lap. We both watched the wolves carefully, waiting for them to attack. The bar was mostly empty, save for us, the bartender, and two men sitting at the bar. I was waiting for the wolves to attack. Sam and I looked over at each other, just as the first wolf bared his fangs at one of the men. The bartender screamed, and I pulled the shotgun on the wolves.

“Winchester. Didn’t realize you had two pet angels,” the first wolf growled. I rolled my eyes.

“Sorry, not a pet.” I growled back. I glanced back at Sam who was rushing the bartender out of the room.

“You know little angel. You’re on our turf. We have every right to kill you and the Winchester. If you kill us now, the pack will come after you. There will be war,” the wolf growled. His claws extended, and he swiped across my cheeks, before I could move out of the way. I screamed out, Sam rushing back toward me, the second wolf wrapping his arm around Sam’s neck, cutting off his breath.

“If you want a war, bring it on!” I yelled, pulling the trigger, the bullet slamming right into the first wolfs chest. The other pulled his arm tighter, threatening me with Sam. I flew behind him, whacking him on the back of the head, Sam gasping for breath as he fell out of the wolfs grasp. Before the wolf could even say anything, I had fired off a shot. I watched the wolf fall onto the floor. I felt Sam’s hand raising my face to look at him.

“He got you?” I nodded.

“I’m fine Sammy. Give it a few minutes, it’ll heal. Are you okay?” He smiled.

“I’m fine. My own angel. I really have my own angel?” he asked, “And one who kicks ass too.”

“I’m an angel with a shotgun. And I promise to always protect you.” Sam smiled bashfully.

“And I will always protect you too.” He leaned down and kissed me, just as the first of the sirens pulled up to the bar. I jerked away and grabbed Sam’s hand, flying both of us back to the bunker. I set him down gently, watching him sway a bit before regaining his balance.

“Badass angel. I can get used to this.” He smirked and pulled me to him again, kissing me gently.

“You know the wolf threatened war, right?”

“Let them try.” I smiled too, kissing him again. No matter what happened, we’d be safe, and knowing the Winchester’s war of some kind never seemed far away.

“They say before you start a war, you better know what you’re fighting for. Well baby you are all that I adore. If love is what you need. A soldier I will be.”

#supernatural #sam winchester

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