bobbiwrites Bobbi Moore

Bailey Brock was an unpopular, practically invisible college student. Until she is caught in a car crash with a laboratory van containing an alien material, when she becomes the host of a symbiote called Poison. Now, the once invisible girl must prevent a Klyntar invasion along side Spiderman, Moon Knight and Venom, who are secretly her friends, Peter Parker and Steven Grant/Marc Spector/Jake Lockley and cousin, Eddie Brock Set in MCU after Moon Knight. AU where Peter used EDITH to stop Mysterio revealing his identity. Carlton Drake is alive and has amnesia.


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#peterparker # #eddiebrock #spiderman #venom #fanfiction #mcu #poison #avengers #moonknight #mrknight #khonshu #stevengrant #marcspector #jakelockley
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Bailey Brock

In the Life Foundation laboratory, a timid, brown-haired apprentice stuttered nervously, "M-Mr D-Drake?"

The CEO looked down at the teenager, "Yes, Karter?"

"O-One of... umm... one of the symbiotes, umm... it-it e-escaped..."

"Excuse me? Are you kidding?!" The man yelled, "That was one of our last!" He turned to the scientists behind him. "Go and find my symbiote, NOW!"

He turned to speak with another scientist.

"That symbiote is very dangerous! Who ever it bonds to could be one of the most powerful beings on the planet!"

{•~~~~~•}

I woke up to the infuriating buzz of my alarm clock. I wiped sleep out of my eyes, pulled my glasses up my nose and tried to focus on the blurry numbers infront of me. 8:56 am.

"Crap!" I gasped.

My name is Bailey Brock. I live in San Francisco. My hair and eyes are blue and I am slightly taller than average. I have a crowded family, consisting of my split up parents, Holly Anderson and Sam Brock, my 21 year old sister, Jane Brock, my 29 year old step-sister Eleanor Frank, my step-mom Lauren Frank and my two year old sister and three year old brother, Rosie and Taylor Anderson.

I jumped out of bed, dove into my wardrobe to pull out a NASA t-shirt and a pair of blue ripped jeans. I tied my curly, blue hair into a high ponytail and grabbed my lanyard with my school ID. It had a picture of me with my name beside it in navy blue letters.

I jumped down the stairs, skipping three at a time and landing flat on my face.

I jumped up, ran into the kitchen and stole my older sister's toast.

"Bailey! That's mine!" Jane snapped.

"I'm late for school! I'll make you some later, drama queen!" I told her quickly.

I went around giving my mom, Rosie and Taylor hugs (or 'ugs' as they pronounce it).

"See you after school!" My Mom called behind me.

"Bye!"

I ran towards the bus stop, but I was too late. The bus was already turning the corner. And to make things better, it started raining and faint grumbles of thunder echoed through the tall buildings.

"Great..." I muttered sarcastically, "Just fantastic..."

A motorcycle pulled up beside me. The rider pulled off his black helmet. It was my cousin.

"Need a ride?" he asked.

"Yes!" I gasped, pulling on my his spare helmet, "Perfect timing Eddie!"

That's Eddie Brock, my 32 year old cousin. He has brown hair and a heavy New York accent. He was an investigative reporter but I'm pretty sure he's journalist now. He always went to work a minute or two after the bus left so I could always rely on him if I woke up late.

I grasped his waist as the bike started speeding down the street.

"Why are you late this time?" He asked.

"Jane unplugged my alarm so she could charge her watch, she never even uses it!" I explained.

He turned to look at me, "Bailey, you're 18 years old, you can't rely on alarms."

"Well, I can't rely on Jane or my mom," I said.

"What I mean is, you gotta use your instincts, train yourself to wake up and do things when you have to," He said, not looking away from me. He muttered something to himself for a second but turned back to me, waiting for my reply.

"Can you just, umm... watch the road please?"

He just sighed and turned back around.

Less than a minute later he stopped infront of a large building.

"Thanks Eddie," I said, passing him his helmet.

I turned and walked into my college.

I was just in time, as the teacher walked past me to lock the student entrance. I walked through an archway into the large courtyard, filled with students.

I approached a brown-haired boy, who was studying.

"Hey Peter!" I smiled, "Whatcha reading?" I snatched the book from his hands and pretended to read it upside down.

He laughed and snatched the book back.

That's my best (and only) friend Peter Parker. He has short, brown, messy hair and the same role in the college hierarchy: unimportant nerd.

"It's 'The Basics of Advanced Programming'," He replied.

"That's a contradicting title! It might as well be 'The Easy Hard Basics of Advanced Simple Programming for Professional Beginners' seriously!"

He laughed again and turned back to his book. As he read, he smiled turned to a frown and his eyes saddened. I knew what he was thinking.

Him and his old friends, Ned and Michelle (more commonly known as MJ) had applied to MIT together. They had all gotten in, but because he missed classes, homework and exams, Peter was expelled. He then came to San Francisco, where he met me. He had a hard time, Ned was his best friend and MJ was his girlfriend. Regardless, he's a great friend, he's incredibly smart and surprisingly athletic and strong.

I opened my mouth to speak, but the bell rang a second later and I had to leave for class.

First up was Math. I hate Math. To me, I just feel like these old dudes were like: 'Hey! I'm going to scribble random shapes and make up some nonsense for the future generations to try to make sense of for hours!'

Congratulations, they accomplished it.

Then I had French, which I was moderately OK with, because I'm actually good at it.

Peter, on the other hand is not. His high school, like most others, taught Spanish, but the Spanish course was full so he was converted to the French class. And, to make his life a little harder, the class always speaks French. This was the first lesson he had actually come to, for some unknown reason.

"Bonjour, la classe!" Mlle Wilson said, "This must be Peter Parker!"

"Oui, Mlle Wilson," I said.

"Merci, Bailey." I turned and sat in my seat, just close enough to hear her say, "Do you speak French, Peter?"

"No," He answered.

"Well, I see you already know Bailey, if you take that empty seat next to her, she can give you some help whenever you need it."

"Merci," Peter smirked.

"Très bien, Monsieur Parker! S'asseoir!" she clapped and nodded to his seat. He sat down.

I whispered, "During class, we have to speak French but I guess she'll let you off."

In French, Mlle Wilson said, "(As you all can tell, we have a new student in our class. He didn't learn French so speak to him in English please.)"

Peter looked really confused so it translated it to him.

Then we I had Science, History and English, which were very uneventful apart from watching raindrops racing on the windows.

Finally, I could go home. I got on the crowded bus. I ended up next to a dark-haired man. He was staring at his reflection, murmuring with a lost look on his face.

I started playing games on my phone. I got to about Level 86 when someone with a British accent spoke to me.

"Excuse me, this'll sound a bit weird, but do you know where I am?"

"Yeah, San Francisco, why?"

"San Francisco..? I don't know, I just woke up here."

"Crazy night out?"

"Yeah, summat like that... Thank you, by the way, I'm Steven Grant."

"No problem, Steven Grant, I'm Bailey Brock."

"Brock? Like Eddie Brock? The Brock Report?"

"Yeah, Eddie's my cousin," As the bus skidded to a stop, I said, "This is my stop, see you around, Steven."

"Yeah... alright"

"Well, that was weird..." I muttered.

19 Septembre 2022 09:29 0 Rapport Incorporer Suivre l’histoire
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