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xiaosonlybeloved · 2 years ago

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Not meant to be~ Rin Itoshi

featuring:- Rin Itoshi, fem!reader, _________ warnings:- aftermath of argument, accident, good ol' truck kun, angst, hurt/no comfort, hurt/comfort, some mentions of blood a/n:- omg here its finally here, my first blue lock fic, ngl im scared of the response since ive only written for genshin before but oh well-

I guess i have to thank @damyoujackson, my irl bff for helping me write this( honestly i couldnt figure out how the hell to start the fic, she helped me out a bunch ) i actually have a few more fics planned too (on my own merit) but ill wait for my exams to get over

word count:- 2k

masterlist

Raised voices. Angry tears. That’s all you could remember. Rin’s cold, emotionless face when he told you to go. Go wherever the hell you wanted. Because he. Didn’t. Care. The way you stormed out of the apartment, hot tears streaming down your cheeks.

His face flashed before your eyes again. You remembered the face you both hate and love now. You remember all the heartbreak he’s been causing you recently. You remember Rin Itoshi.

*******

You get into the taxi you booked to go to Isagi’s house. You’d already planned to visit him and Bachira anyways. Now, maybe if you were lucky, they’d let you stay the night over. There is a strange scent in the car but you can’t put a finger on it.

You take a few deep breaths. Once you’re sufficiently calmed down, you take out your phone and block Rin. Everywhere. His socials. His phone, his chat. Everything. Right now, all you really want is to distance yourself and your aching heart from Rin. Because it hurt. Staying with him, loving him, hurt. A fresh tear rolled down your face as the car sped onto the highway after around ten minutes.

And thats when the chills ran down your spine.

Something was wrong, you realized. Something wasn’t righ-

*******

It happened in an instant, too quick for you to comprehend.

As you felt the warm liquid trickling down your face, you recognise the strong scent of wine that filled the whole car, emanating from the driver, and the smell of your own blood.

The next instant, it all went black.

~◍~

Rin’s call goes to voicemail for the tenth time. His messages are still undelivered. It’s been ten minutes, and Rin can’t help but feel uneasy, feel like something was wrong.

He shook his head. Who was he even kidding. Of course things were wrong. And he was the reason why. He was the who’d lost his temper, yelled at you to get lost, refused to apologise even though none of it was your fault; you were only trying to look out for him after all. Regret settled in the pit of his stomach, and he didn’t like it one bit. He didn’t mean any of that, he really didn’t, it all slipped out in the heat of the moment because of his pride. You were the reason his life was worth living, and all he wanted right now was you back in his arms safe and sound.

He couldn’t stand the silence that pervaded the room anymore. He wanted to see you. Make sure you were alright, even if you were hurting inside because of him

His keys jingled as he locked the door behind him and hurried to his car.

*******

As Rin sped towards Isagi’s place, figuring that’s where you went since you had already planned to go, he felt something like dread seep into him, although he didn’t know why. Goosebumps rose on his skin as he drove onto the highway, and the reason for it was visible in the form of a crowd gathered around what seemed like a truck collided into a taxi. His sense of foreboding increased.

As he neared the crash site, the first thing he saw was blood seeping out of the shattered windows of the car. He frowned as he slowed down, seeing the flashing lights and wailing sirens of the ambulance making its way towards the crash. Finally, he saw the limp bodies, presumably of the drivers and a passenger.

His car screeched to a halt as he froze, seeing a nurse lift up one of the limp bodies to hurry them into the ambulance.

He saw your limp body being hauled into the ambulance.

*******

Rin silently sat in the ambulance, staring at what he’d done. The nurse who was working to bring you into a stable condition gave him a look of pity. Pity. That’s probably why the nurse had allowed him to get into the ambulance with you.

He couldn’t fathom it.

It was his fault. If he hadn’t yelled at you like that, you wouldn’t have left. If he had just dropped you off, you wouldn’t have gotten injured.

Rin knew. He knew he’d broken the promise he’d passionately made you when you two started dating- that he’d keep you safe.

For the first time in years, a tear slipped out of the corner of his eyes, then another. Not a single sound. Just the tears silently streaking Rin’s face.

He’d messed up. Real bad.

~◍~

There you were, lying unconscious on the bed. You always looked so peaceful asleep. Not like you had been all those wakeful, sleepless nights with him recently.

He caressed your face, like he had done so many times before. By this point, he had all the contours of your face memorised. He had lost you. He knew that. He knew you were in a coma, but who knew how long you’d be gone? Rin felt a lump rise in his throat.

Why?

Why had it been you? Why not anyone else? Why you? You had never done anything to deserve this, if anything, he was the one who deserved this. Unable to bear the sight of you, hurt because of him ,anymore, he got up hastily and walked away, gently closing the hospital door behind him.

“Why were you with her?” Rin heard a voice say, one that grated on his nerves. His jaw set, he turned around to see him. “What do you mean? She’s my girlfriend, she’s the one I love, and she’s hurt. Shouldn’t I be with her?” Rin spoke, the anger on seeing him seeping into his voice. What right did he have to interfere with Rin’s life? He saw a scowl spread across the face of the man in front of him. “No, Rin, you’ve lost the right to. You’re the reason why she’s here. You’re the one who hurt her. Do you really think she’d want to see you after all of this? No, Rin. Not when you’re the reason why she’s… she’s…” His voice cracks, his incomplete sentence hanging tensely in the air.

And Rin watched, eyes wide, as a tear slipped out of his eyes. Sure, Rin crying was one thing. But him? Not when he knew that emotions didn’t come easy to either of them. He must care about her a lot too. It caused an ugly feeling to bubble in his chest.

“Stay away, she’s mine. You have no right to be here.” Rin snapped, causing him to retort. “I have no right? I have no right? Look who’s freaking talking.”

“She was yours, Rin. She was yours. Not anymore.”

“You’ve lost her now.”

~◍~

White, white everywhere. Your eyes stung ike tehy did every time Rin made you cry. You sat up and the world spun. You saw a hand on yours. Rin? His touch felt a bit different, but the eyes you caught with yours were ones you would never get tired of losing yourself staring into. And yet, as the world gradually came into focus, you saw that no, it wasn’t Rin after all. It was him.

“How are you?” He softly asked. Those three words lingered in the air between you two, echoing in your mind. So long. It had been so long since you’d heard those three simple words. How laughable.

You didn’t respond for a while. You just couldn’t.. He didn’t press it either. The silence which fell between you two was in fact, comfortable. Certainly not like the tense, angry silences that fell ever so often between you and Rin recently after unresolved conflicts. They had been cold and unforgiving, just like how Rin had become.

Eventually you tried to speak, and found you couldn’t. Seeing this, he immediately grabbed a glass of water from the bedside stand and gently held it to your lips as you drank, one hand supporting your back.

This felt new. But it didn’t feel wrong. It felt warm and comforting.

“I… don’t know.” You responded to his earlier question. He simply set down the glass, took both of your hands in his, and squeezed them softly. “I’ll be here. It’ll be fine soon.” There was a silent promise in his quiet voice. That he’d stay with you.

Unlike Rin.

No wonder this felt comforting. This was the kind of support and comfort you’d been longing for from ages. You missed this feeling.

~◍~

Months had passed since that accident, and you had fully recovered, with no permanent damage. You had completely broken off things with Rin. It wasn’t because of the accident. You were simply too tired. It hurt. It hurt too much for you to be able to continue your relationship with him anymore.

It hurt you to admit it, but life had actually become brighter after you’d broken up with Rin. So you tried your best to get over him, build yourself a happier life.

‘It seems to be working,’ you thought to yourself, shoulders feeling considerably lighter, a spring in your step, on your way to meet him at the cafe.

~◍~

Years had passed. Old wounds were healed, both figuratively and literally. You’d found someone new. Someone who’d gently held your broken heart as he helped you repair it. Someone who you couldn’t help but love with everything in you. Someone who’d stayed with you through thick and thin. Someone you loved more than you had loved Rin.

Funny. Honestly, you barely remembered Rin anymore. Not when you’d found someone better.

~◍~

Rin was miserable, to say the least. He’d barely been able to focus on anything, throwing himself into soccer in entirety. Because if he didn’t, if he let his mind wander, regret and guilt would consume him whole, and his mind would return to the last time he’d seen you. When you’d softly told him that you couldn’t do this anymore. Not with him. When you’d broken up with him, wishing him all the best for his career.

Forget it. Even though you were a big part of his life, the only option he found was to try and forget you, no matter how impossible it seemed. It was the only way he could focus on soccer.

And yet, as he lay alone under the covers of his cold bed at night, body aching from exhaustion, he couldn’t hold back his intense longing for you to be back in his arms.

In the dead of night, he couldn’t deny just how much he missed you. In the dead of night, he couldn’t deny how much he wished everything was back to the way it used to be back then.

In the dead of night, he couldn’t deny that he would always remember you, no matter how much he tried to forget you.

~◍~

Rin stood there, face blank, numbness seeping through his body, as excited loud chatter surrounded him.

This couldn’t be happening.

He knew he should have been happy for you. But somehow, he was unable to.

You looked radiant and stunning as you walked down the aisle. The joy was more than evident in the way you carried yourself, a bright smile on your face as your gaze landed on him.

He couldn’t help but feel incredibly envious of the man standing in wait for you at the altar, a matching smile lighting up his usually emotionless face. Your to-be husband. As much as it shattered his heart, Rin knew that he hadn’t treated you well, that he wasn’t the one for you. That you were happy.

But it still hurt.

It hurt like hell when you both said ‘Yes’ without hesitation, when you both slipped your rings onto each other’s fingers, when the crowd around burst into rapturous applause as the two of you sealed your relationship.

Because the lips you kissed, the eyes you stared into, the hands you held, and the man you loved. It wasn’t him. It would never be him.

It was Sae Itoshi, the only one you remembered.

ngl i loved this

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emkayewrites · 6 months ago

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A snippet from my Lukola fanfiction: steamy edition! TW for smut~

13th July 2023 – London (UK)

Luke Newton: How far away are you?

A smile stretched across Nicola’s face as she typed out a reply on her mobile phone.

Nicola Coughlan: I’m sending you my live location.

The response was instant.

Luke Newton: It’s not as fun as you trying to tell me where you are and failing.

Nicola Coughlan: I’m doing my best!

Luke Newton: You’re nowhere near Canary Wharf.

Nicola Coughlan: My head barely reaches up to the window.

Nicola Coughlan: Did I mention I’m very small?

Luke Newton: Being short can’t be an excuse for everything.

Nicola giggled out loud at his response and then remembered where she was. She looked self-consciously at the front seat of the car she was in. The middle-aged taxi driver was staring straight ahead, his eyes bloodshot, and his face slightly weary. He gave no indication that he had noticed her sudden giddiness.

God, was she giddy.

Her life felt like it had never been better.

The last few weeks had allowed her to finally be in the same city as Luke and they had taken every opportunity possible to be together, usually at her apartment or his. This had also been an incredibly busy time for both, and they had been pivotal cheerleaders for one another as they went through career milestones. When Luke was invited to Wimbledon for the first time as a guest of GQ, he had responded in true Luke fashion: with joy at being acknowledged but also severe anxiety at the whole idea of being a fashion object of some sort. She was fast learning how much he loved being an actor but how much he equally struggled with just being Luke at these events – being most comfortable when he could disappear into a role. She had reminded him how only a year ago, he had teased her about her own Wimbledon appearances and now here he was – being a fashion icon at a top British sporting event. She found the way he blushed in response to her praise endearing. She loved how quick he was to remind her that she was invited to several Wimbledon events this year and was constantly being revered in the fashion pages for her style – she loved this not because she wanted him to admire her but because it demonstrated how humble he was. He never wanted the spotlight for too long, and he was all too happy to cast it back on her.

In their personal lives, they had not been shy about demonstrating their affections for each other around people they knew. She attended the wrap party for The Shape of Things as his date; they had walked in together and then spent most of the night pressed up against the side of the bar, not-so-discreetly making out, much to everyone else’s amusement. They had decided they did not want to nor feel the need to be more public, with both agreeing not to post anything on their respective social media accounts or to discuss their relationship in the press. They knew that at some point, talking about each other would be inevitable but they were keen to keep as much of their relationship for themselves for as long as possible.

Nicola thought about how she had never felt so good in herself. She was in the city of her dreams, with a burgeoning career, and with a boyfriend with his own successes, and they were both aligned in their core values. They just seemed to fit.

How the hell does it get better than this?

Some days, she worried about whether she was peaking too soon – in both her career and love. She dismissed these thoughts quickly, and usually on that kind of day, there was something consuming on her schedule that distracted her from the fears.

It was this kind of high that Nicola was riding as she sat in the back of the taxi, watching London landmarks whizz past her. When she looked down at her outfit or caught a glance of her reflection in the wing mirror, she really wanted to pinch herself.

She was dressed in an outfit that she could only describe as being from her literal dreams. The true credit had to go to Aimee, but Nicola could not help but to admit that she was the one who made the dress look damn good. She was in a silver corseted gown that was covered all over with Swarovski glass crystals. Off-setting the shimmering outfit were her freshly dyed red locks which were beautifully styled into soft curls that framed her face, and her make-up was doll-like but subtle, with soft pink lips and light pink contouring. She felt good.

Only hours before, she had walked onto a bright pink carpet to flash bulbs, screaming fans and an endless litany of famous faces at the London premiere of Barbie. It was a film that had hype - it was breaking records in the worldwide box office as well as shaping popular culture. She had negotiated interviewers and photographers, and she had become keenly aware how much attention she was getting. Even further validation had come in the form of messages from friends and family who were at home watching the photos of celebrities at the premiere come in on their social media feeds. Luke was the most enthusiastic of them all, sending her screenshots of herself on the carpet a mere ten minutes after she had taken them with statements like: “How are you a real person?”

She would be lying to herself if she said that she was able to sit inside Cineworld in Leicester Square with A list stars and watch one of the most hotly anticipated films of the year that she herself was featured in and fully appreciate it. Of course, she was excited to be there, and it was a special thing to be around such talented people and to celebrate a project like this. However, there was a part of her that wished Luke was there by her side, not sat at home avidly scanning Instagram Live and Twitter feeds for scraps. He could have been there as one of her guests and kept Grainne company in the family and friends seating, but they had both decided against it. They reasoned that it did feel too exposing, and anyway, if they were not able to sit by each other’s side, it did not feel worth it.

It was in this spirit that she had found herself ending her night a little earlier than she usually would at an event like this. She navigated her way into one of the free taxis provided by the press team and asked them not to take her to the afterparty, giving them Luke’s address instead. She had texted her sister to let her know she would not be at said party, to which her sister had responded in her usual nonchalance:

Grainne Coughlan: Do I need you to get in?

Classic Grainne – straight to the point.

Nicola Coughlan: Not if you’ve got your premiere tickets

Grainne Coughlan: Alrighty

Nicola Coughlan: I won’t be there though

Grainne Coughlan: But Margot Robbie will

Grainne Coughlan: So I’ll live

Nicola Coughlan: Don’t do anything to tarnish the Coughlan name

Grainne Coughlan: I only want a SMALL lock of her hair

Nicola Coughlan: I know you’re joking but still, the fear of God resides in me

Grainne Coughlan: Tell Lukey I said hi ;)

Before she knew it, Nicola arrived at the large Victorian terrace and hastily attempted to tip the driver, but he politely refused, insisting that tips were also taken care of for the night. No sooner had the taxi left then the front door flung open and there stood Luke, his hair slightly tousled, in a white t-shirt and dark sweatpants.

She felt her heart race as he drank in her appearance. His eyes seemingly bulged out of his head.

“Fuck.” He finally said. “You look….”

She felt herself blush.

She never blushed.

Jesus, what was this boy doing to her?

“You look too good to be stood on this street at this time of night.” He finally concluded, reaching out to take her by the hands and pull her into the house.

The door had barely closed behind them before they were all over each other.

This had become one of their main communication methods lately: tongues.

They always greeted each other with a hunger but tonight was different. She could feel it. Tonight was the night.

It was a strange thing but in the last few weeks, despite numerous sleepovers, they had not got there yet. Luke had insisted that he was not in any rush when it came to sex, and she herself had a sneaking suspicion that the romantic in him would not allow them to just fall into having sex one random night, she knew he wanted it to be special. He had still not completely recovered from the way his plan to confess his feelings to her had fallen apart; he often expressed that he felt she deserved better than a phone call – not that it mattered to her. She made it clear she was low maintenance in that regard.

As the days had passed, Nicola had realised that most of their nights started off with a lot of kissing and touching, but also a lot of talking. So much talking that often, the sun was starting to come up just as they were drifting off to sleep. Nicola realised this was the first time she had been in an intimate relationship with someone who had been one of her best friends, and because of that, there was always so much to talk about.

Well, some might call it talking but the more accurate term was gossiping.

They gossiped about everything and everyone. Their worlds had been so intertwined, and they had shared so many experiences that they never ran out of things to comb over. It was an intoxicating experience to be able to make out with your best friend in one breath, and then in another, be able to share your deepest, darkest thoughts about yourself or about people you knew. It was a level of intimacy that was deep and terrifying. She could not imagine being so emotionally open with anyone other than him. There was also a deep desire within her to know him inside and out. She wanted to know his thoughts all the time, and he seemingly felt the same way.

Yet tonight, Nicola could tell they were both thinking about the same thing, and it wasn’t talking.

They stopped kissing for a moment and Luke delicately placed his hands around her waist, being careful to not cause damage.

“Well, all I’ve thought about since seeing pictures of you tonight is tearing this dress off you…” He stated.

“Ugh, no.” Nicola let out a small, disapproving gasp in response and peeled his hands off her waist. “I shouldn’t even be here in this dress. I’m meant to literally extract myself out of it without it touching any of my make-up and put it into an airtight bag.”

“I know, I know.” He gave her a knowing smile.

Nicola gave him a puzzled look. She knew him well enough to know he was up to something.

They were stood in the semi-lit hallway that had two doorways along it; one door led to a kitchen and living space and the other led to a bathroom. Right next to them was a carpeted staircase with a wooden banister that led up to two bedrooms.

Luke led her into the living room. An ornately engraved fireplace, high ceilings and wooden floorboards made up the period features of the space which were coupled with modern touches that included a dark leather sofa, a dark green island and kitchen cabinetry and a large bookshelf containing a mixture of DVDs and books.

The first thing she noticed was that the usually bright room was dimly lit because the only source was lighting was candles. So many candles. Candles everywhere. On the kitchen island. Along the bookshelves. On the mantlepiece. The light bounced off the crystals on her dress making her literally shimmer.

She felt silly at how oddly emotional the sight made her feel.

“You’re glowing.” Luke whispered in her ear from behind her, as if reading her mind. She felt his arms wrap around her from behind, felt his chest press up against her back as he placed a kiss on her neck.

“This is… this took you some time, huh?” She managed to croak out.

He laughed in response. “You have no idea.”

“And the fire hazard alone…” Nicola joined in with his laughter. “This is enough to give your landlord a stroke.”

Luke’s hands started to move carefully across the bodice of her dress, and she started to help him. Together, they identified the zip, and she let Luke tug at it so that the dress started to slide down her spine. She started to extricate herself from the tight-fitting arms of the dress, until she was stood there in just a nude thong and bra with the fabric at her feet. Luke gave her a hand as she stepped out of the gown and then dutifully bent down and to lift it up carefully by the sleeves. He held it up before them, unblemished and without a single piece of embellishment missing.

“She’s perfect.” Nicola remarked. “Nicely done, sir.”

“Nearly three years of watching you get in and out of impossible gowns pays off.” Luke shrugged.

He took great pains to gingerly lay the dress across the length of the sofa. For not the first time, Nicola felt a warm feeling travel through her. The way he cared about the things she cared about was everything to her. It was so unbelievably sexy that she had to have him, right there and then. She grabbed him by the neck of his shirt and pulled him in for a kiss and he responded eagerly. Before she could process what was happening, she was hoisted up, her legs wrapped around his waist, his hands groping at her waist and naked buttocks as he carried her back through the hallway and into the bathroom. She gave little thought to the change of location. It was hard to care about anything when your entire body felt like it was on fire. She found her back pushed against the wall of the bathroom as they continued to kiss, but she wanted more. She pulled her face away from him as she tugged his t-shirt up over his torso and his head, but it was slightly stuck around his neck. He tried to assist despite his face being covered by the shirt, his arms flailing hilariously to get it over his head.

She took in his body, his glistening abs, his biceps which bulged as they supported her weight; she found herself tracing kisses along his shoulder and up his neck as he let out a moan, finally freed from the shirt. She felt the hardness between his legs, she tightened the grip of her legs around his waist, pulled her own soft wetness against his member and felt the hot frustration build in her at the barrier of fabric between them. She wanted him in her.

Those sweatpants needed to come off.

She found herself tugging at them when Luke gently pulled back.

It was only then that she took in the room around them. The bathroom was spacious and lined with wooden floorboards. A glass walled rain shower stood to one side and a claw-footed bathtub to the other. The entire room was also decorated with lit candles. The bathtub was filled with foamy bubbles and rose petals. A small side table stood by the tub with a bottle of champagne, a box of chocolates and two crystal flutes. A bouquet of roses lay to one side.

“Wow…” Nicola gasped for the second time that night.

“I know how much you like a nice bath and some bubbles, and I thought you’d need it more tonight than anything.” He smiled.

“Oh, Luke, this is…” She found herself blinking back tears.

How was she ever going to top a day as good as this one?

She started to slip out of her thong and bra, her sudden nakedness feeling more apparent to her as she padded her way across the room to the bathtub. She felt his eyes on her, his expression was one of someone spellbound.

“I can’t be the only naked one.” She teased as she started to slide into the water.

He grinned back at her and in one sweeping movement, he pulled down his bottoms and boxers so that he was fully exposed to her.

“That’s a move right out of Magic Mike.” She managed to joke as most of the breath left her body.

The sight of him like that was almost too unbearable. She really wanted him.

There were parts she had seen before of course. You don’t film sexually explicit scenes like the ones they had and not see something. Yet, there were definitely��parts she had never seen before. His erect penis being one of them.

How could someone be so perfectly sculpted? She thought.

“Get over here.” She managed to say, her tone demanding. Her desperation seemed to please him, he smirked in a self-satisfied way but obliged, and walked towards her, and then crouched beside her as she lay in the tub.

“What are you doing?” She frowned, impatience affecting her. “I want you. Get in.”

“I want to take care of you first…” He responded. “We need to get that make-up off you.”

He was right. She was covered in body make-up and glitter. Some of it was bleeding into the bubbles and petals, turning the water slightly amber.

“You’re pretty dirty…” He continued. His hand reached into the water and was between her legs before she could respond.

Jesus fucking Christ, she had never been this horny in her life.

He used the firmness of his fingers against her, pressing and rubbing at alternating intensities that were somehow just right. She closed her eyes tight and let out one moan and then many moans as pleasure took over every part of her body.

“But you’re dirty in all the right ways…” He sounded breathless as he spoke, as his hand worked on her. She could feel him vibrating with desire as he watched her writhe before him.

She began pushing herself into him, her hands gripping the bottom of the tub as she forced her pelvis against him. Her back arched and she felt her breasts leave the warmth of the soapy water as they were thrust into the air, and then she felt the wetness of his mouth on her nipple, his tongue working on it as hard as his fingers were down there.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck…!” She found herself practically screaming as she came. Electric jolts travelled through her body. She convulsed as the sensitivity in every nerve in her body increased.

“Fuck…..!” She sighed, her head against the porcelain of the tub, a bead of sweat travelling down her forehead.

Before she had time to really catch her breath, Luke was pulling her up so that they were both stood, naked, pressed against one another as they entered a passionate kiss.

“Bedroom, please.” She managed to beg.

She wanted him inside her so badly.

He pulled her up, slippery and naked, so that her legs were around him again. They continued to lock lips as he carried her out of the bathroom.

They made it as far as the stairs.

Nicola learnt something that day: a wooden banister provides great support for certain physical activities.

(Excerpt taken from my fanfiction 'Curtain Fall')

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myemuisemo · 1 year ago

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Part 7 of Letters from Watson, "Light in the Darkness," has one spot where contemporary readers would have been the edge of their walnut, horsehair-stuffed, plush-covered seats, murmuring: "It's got to be... can it really be... it must be... c'mon Holmes, surely you see this!" Then there's another where the reaction would be: "But how? I have so many questions!"

C'mon Holmes, surely you see it!

Holmes' "perfect shriek of delight" at realizing how he ought to test a key clue is what the savvy reader was surely feeling, no matter how ungentlemanly it might be by the standards of its day.

What got me digging into the matter of the pills is that Watson, Lestrade, and Gregson seem too unconcerned with what poison is involved. While forensic toxicology was nowhere near what we see on crime shows now, the concept existed. The Marsh test for arsenic had been developed back in the 1830s, to prove arsenic poisoning in suspected murder cases. While this poison is clearly too fast-acting to be arsenic -- or even the Aqua Tofana of the newspaper editorials -- surely if there was one poison that scientists tested for, there were at least efforts to test for more.

Showing little concern over something that seems important and puzzling is usually, in old texts, an indication that whatever-it-was wasn't puzzling to contemporaries.

Here, nobody is puzzled because in this period, everyone who enjoyed sensation stories and true crime already knew that of course if you have a poison duel, the poison is water-soluble and fast-acting. As far as I can tell from stories under the excellent Poison Duels tag on Strange History, the poison used in poison duels wasn't specified in these tales (which might be outright urban legends). The poison in a poison duel is just that kind of poison.

In a poison duel, the combatants each choose a pill to dissolve in their drink. One is a harmless placebo. The other is a fast-acting deadly poison. These stories had been popular since at least the 1820s and kept recurring. Were they true? That's dubious. It's possible that the murder method here is the equivalent of a meme.

Why have a poison duel? As a duel, it's a matter of honor, so Drebber and the murderer are, for some reason, heinously offended with one another. But why poison? Why not pistols at dawn?

Traditional dueling had been outlawed in the UK in 1819, though the United States was slower and less consistent in banning it. More important, though, is that a poison duel was the (dramatic, hypothetical) choice if one party was physically unfit to duel or if one party was seen as being beneath the other in status and honor.

Drebber has been established as wealthy (his gold ornaments), penny-pinching (his other clothes and his choice of lodging), and uncouth to the point of casually sexually assaulting his landlady's innocent daughter. Either the murderer is a man with standards who sees Drebber as beneath him, or Drebber is a snob who sees the murderer as beneath him.

Since we still don't have an explanation for the wedding ring, I'm right there in the smoking lounge with 1880s readers in speculating that Drebber assaulted, coerced, or otherwise harmed a young woman that the murderer cared about. Sister? Sweetheart? We've already got a brother-avenges-sister pair in the story: is this foreshadowing?

But how? I have so many questions!

Holmes characterizes our murderer as "a shrewd and desperate man.... [who can] change his name, and vanish in an instant among the four million inhabitants of this great city." This feels like the build-up to having a little vehmgericht conspiracy as a treat, but that red herring is swiftly pickled.

(The steel handcuffs with springs that Holmes touts are an improvement over the D-shaped cuffs in use at the time.)

The murderer is...

...a taxi driver?

But taxi drivers in London had been licensed since the mid-1600s and had been required to demonstrate "the knowledge" of London streets for 15-20 years by the time of the story! Taxi driver was not a job that a person could fake with the same readiness as picking up a ladder and passing as a laborer.

It's a great job for being invisible on the streets of London, since cabs were everywhere. Unlicensed cabs probably operated, but not for long. How had the murderer come by a cab to drive? I have so many questions!

#sherlock holmes #letters from watson #a study in scarlet

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bcbdrums · 1 year ago

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Landing

A Soul Eater fanfic. Read on: AO3 | FFn

Second in a series of 31 prompt-based one-shots. Prompts from this list.

------------

A/N: Man I had SO many ideas for this short and I could have dragged it on and on and on... I forced myself to stop. But know...this could have really gone on. I really like this one. 2. Airport

The night was inky but for the blue and green lights laid out in a vast grid across acres of pavement, their purpose unknown to the lone observer in the nearby parking lot. But Spirit's focus was elsewhere anyway. The only red lights to be seen were flashing under the wings of the plane that distantly taxied down the runway, and he hugged himself against the cold as he watched the shape of the steel bird carrying the woman he'd chosen out of his life again.

The roar of the jet engines was deafening when it finally lifted away like magic, but Spirit didn't cover his ears nor move from his spot near the parking lot fence until he could no longer see the shape of the wings, and the red lights were mere pinpricks rising higher and higher into the night sky, soon to vanish among the stars.

Finally, when he couldn't tell one pair of flashing, distant beacons from another, he bowed his head as he rubbed his arms through the sleeves of his blazer and started trudging his way back across the huge expanse of asphalt toward some place where he could get a ride. Maybe there was still time for a drink at the airport before he had to catch the next train, and heaven knew he needed one.

Against his will, he was already replaying the entire incident in his head, from the long journey in the taxi where she wouldn't even look at him let alone speak to him, to his reluctant and humiliating signing of one paper after another in the tiny office of a county courthouse.

He really needed a drink.

"You didn't bring a coat."

Spirit jumped at the sound, his heart in his throat even though recognition was instant and his mind was relaxing before his body had fully processed the shock.

"Stein! What are you doing here?"

He had lurched back at the too-close sound out of the darkness but was hugging his arms tightly again almost instantly, suddenly realizing just how cold it was as he was forced out of his depressed reminiscence and back to the present.

"I followed you," Stein said simply.

Spirit noted the man's typical attire of lab coat, patchwork turtleneck, and time-faded black jeans, and how his hands sat comfortably in his coat pockets and a cigarette rested lazily between his lips. He had no winter coat in sight either, and Spirit did some quick calculations.

"But I left Death City before sundown," he protested. Stein said nothing, and Spirit's mind ran over the rest of the implications of his former meister's words. "You've been spying on me for over four hours!?"

"She made that take unnecessarily long."

Spirit shivered, felt his teeth chatter as he stared into Stein's knowing eyes, looked at the slight tightening at the corners of his old partner's mouth that only he would notice, indicative of his good humor.

Spirit finally sputtered something between a laugh and a scoff, and then hurried close to the younger man's side. Stein turned and set an arm around Spirit's shoulders as they started back across the parking lot and toward the shuttle station, and the weapon hesitated for barely a moment before leaning into the meister's side. It was only a mild relief—Stein was cold too—but it was better than nothing.

"Please tell me you drove."

"Ah, no, I wasn't thinking."

Spirit grimaced. The train would be warmer, but not nearly warm enough on the frosty Nevada winter's night. He didn't like the idea of buying overpriced outerwear in one of the airport shops, but he liked the idea of freezing to death even less. Even the air was starting to feel like ice, and it was becoming difficult to breathe.

"We'd better hurry before the shops close," he said, attempting to lengthen his stride despite the painful chill settling into his bones.

Stein matched his pace but didn't reply, and Spirit wondered at the man's silence after having devoted the entire evening to secretly following him and his ex-wife around.

"What is it?"

Stein didn't look at him, but Spirit noticed a change in the tension at the corners of his mouth.

"Nothing. What was it she wanted, anyway?"

A shiver ran through Spirit and he pressed in closer, matching Stein's step so their legs brushed as they walked. He hesitated in replying, but finally sighed and let it go, his throat tightening before he uttered a word.

"There was an entire folder of papers I'd forgotten to sign at the divorce proceeding. I was...distracted at the time."

For the second time that evening his mind was wrenched back to that dreadful day, the way his wife—ex-wife—had sat with such detachment and poise as he was falling apart, watching the judge nod agreement to everything her lawyer had put forth about his being an unfit parent.

"Her lawyer is on vacation for the holidays and the signing had to be witnessed by the judge who adjudicated the case for some reason. And he was in Las Vegas this weekend. Would have been nice to know before this morning..."

He recalled not for the first time that day the way Maka had sat as near to her mother as the court would allow those months ago, grinning all the while and occasionally sending dark looks in his direction. She had been visibly elated when the judge declared him stripped of all parental rights, despite the fact that Maka lived and attended school where he worked. And then he remembered the way Maka had hugged her mother after the decision... Remembered watching the brief exchange of words between the two from his lonely seat across the room, his wife caressing their daughter's face as Maka looked back into her mother's eyes with love... And then they had left together, his wife the one to bring Maka back to Death City that day before leaving again.

Despite being on the same train back, Spirit hadn't seen Maka again that day or for several weeks after. She had moved in with her weapon partner before he and his wife had officially separated, and without the court hearings forcing them together he was reduced to hanging around outside her classroom and taking his chances for fleeting, one-sided conversation. But those were fewer and farther between, and never appreciated.

Maka loved her mother. And she made it clear each time he tried to see her that there was no room left for him in her heart. It was in Spirit's nature to hold on to hope, but the hard truth was that since the divorce...he had been well and truly alone.

Except for the bottle, of course.

"If you ask me," Stein said, interrupting the downward spiral of Spirit's thoughts, "they should really change some of those custody laws."

Spirit hadn't realized tears were welling in his eyes from the memories until hearing Stein's voiced support, and he swallowed against the lump in his throat and attempted to blink the hot moisture away. Was it fogging up out there, or was that just his imagination?

"Thanks," he finally said, his voice hoarse. He hoped Stein knew he meant for more than the encouraging words.

Far more.

He felt Stein shiver, and after a moment, Spirit released himself from the tight hold he still had on one bicep to slide an arm around Stein's waist. They were only about twenty yards from the shuttle station, and distant headlights suggested they wouldn't have too long a wait once there.

"I'll buy you a drink. One drink," Stein said. Anyone else listening would have only heard the meister's usual monotone, but Spirit heard the command.

Unseen to Stein, the weapon smiled softly. There would be no drowning his memories and sorrows in too much alcohol this time. But perhaps, now that he wasn't alone... He wouldn't need to.

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your-divine-ribs · 6 months ago

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I’m With the Band Part 31

Words: 1.2k (just a little one!)

Arabella gets ready to go on tour with the boys… 💖 (I’ve written this story up to Part 41 btw so I’ll get it all posted soon xxx)

I’m With the Band Masterlist Main Masterlist

"Larry! Get your arse in here now!" I cry out, grunting with exertion as I try in vain to shift the zip on my bulging Louis Vuitton suitcase. It's stuck fast, refusing to budge as I pull on it with all of my might.

"Ahh shit!" I curse, exasperated, flopping down on to the bed. Items of clothing and shoes are strewn over every surface and the floor's covered too. It's utter chaos and I can feel my stress levels rising.

"What's up Bells?" Larry calls from just outside the door, stopping short as soon as he enters and surveys the mess. "Christ, what on earth have ya been up to? Looks like a bomb's gone off in 'ere!"

"Packing," I inform him sulkily. "Well... I've been trying to anyway. It's near-on impossible with your stupid one-suitcase rule. How the hell do you expect me to fit all of these in there?"

I indicate the straining case before I sweep a hand around the room, watching as Larry's eyes bulge wide. "All of it? But you don't need all that lot. We're only going to be away for three weeks for this first run!"

I huff in frustration, hands on my hips. "You really think I can fit three weeks of outfits into one suitcase? I've actually been very selective if you must know, I figured I wouldn't need my evening dresses..."

My eyes flick to my most beloved and extravagant purchases which are hanging on the wardrobe door, swathes of silk and tulle and sequin-spangled satin which wouldn't look out of place on a red carpet.

"Can just see you wading through mud in a field in Reading in one of them," he sniggers. "Would look great with your wellies!"

"Wellies?" I wrinkle up my nose. "But we'll be in the VIP area won't we?"

Larry's face cracks into a wide smile. "Yeah, but it's not that posh ya know. We're not big time yet. Don't know what you're expecting, it's still a festival. You'll still have to shit in a portaloo like everyone else!"

"Portaloos?"

Now I'm really horrified, visions of living it up in exclusive fully furnished, air-conditioned Coachella-style accommodation shattered in an instant. Never having attended a UK festival before I'm not sure quite what I'm letting myself in for. "Next thing you'll be telling me we'll be camping... in actual tents!"

"Where's ya sense of adventure?" Larry grins teasingly. "Had some of me funniest, most memorable festival experiences in tents! This one time me and Van pitched up right next to this ditch at Glasto and it rained all night. Well you can imagine what it was like in the morning! The whole field was a swamp, all our stuff was soaked through! It was hilarious!"

I give him a withering look as I try to wedge another pair of sandals into the over-stuffed luggage. "If that's your idea of fun you've got a serious problem. Now come and help me shut this case will you?"

Larry and I are still good-naturedly bickering by the time the taxi comes to transport us to our first destination of the tour which happens to be a venue in Newcastle. Johnny had already gone home two days prior and is all set to meet up with the rest of the band and crew when they arrive to play that evening. Then after the gig the tour bus is booked to come and pick everyone up so we can travel up to Glasgow for TRNSMT that weekend. From there on it's a packed schedule of gigs and festival shows and various interviews planned all over the country, culminating in the lads' biggest sets to date, two late summer slots on Friday and Saturday night respectively at Reading and Leeds festivals.

I'm a mixture of excitement and apprehension. The thought of travelling the country with the guys and potentially meeting numerous eligible rockstars has my heart practically leaping out of my chest with anticipation, but the prospect of being cooped up in an enclosed space with said guys also fills me with dread. I've had the pleasure of spending just a week at my cousin's house so far and I've already witnessed some less than desirable habits that I'm sure will only prove to be the tip of the iceberg. I can only imagine what sort of unsavoury behaviour passes for acceptable when they're on the road and trying to impress and outdo each other like boys invariably do when they're together.

Larry had finally given in after a morning of my incessant moaning and was now allowing me to bring three suitcases of my belongings with me. I'm still feeling a little smug as I watch him struggling to lift the heavy loads into the boot of the taxi. "You got bricks in 'ere or summat?"

"It's good exercise, don't complain," I giggle, teasingly squeezing his bicep. "You look like you could do with a good work-out."

He scowls at me as he tosses his comparatively tiny suitcase in the boot and slams it shut. "The manager's gonna have a fit about this lot. We've got loads of kit to get on to the bus and everyone else's stuff too. It's not just us ya know, it's the crew as well. Don't know why you need so much anyway."

Of course Larry wouldn't understand. Seduction's a serious business and I need to shine to my full potential to get noticed. I'm already imagining cosying up next to Bondy in a cute but revealing sundress whilst he tries to concentrate on those guitar lessons he promised me or brushing past Van that bit too close in the narrow tour bus corridors in the shortest of skirts. And then of course I have my little arrangement with Sam... He's not going to know what's hit him when I break out my carefully curated festival wardrobe. Mind you, I'm hoping that he might see me out of it more than actually wearing it if all goes to plan.

"Well, I wouldn't be seen dead wearing the same outfit twice on this tour. I'm not like Van who lives in the same pair of skinny jeans and black shirt all year round."

"He has more than just one pair ya know," Larry defends his friend as he opens up the taxi door for me to get in. "I should know as I do his laundry on tour."

This shocks me and I can't resist the opportunity to wind my cousin up. "Oh my god! You actually do his laundry for him? What did his last slave die of? I thought you were supposed to be his guitar tech, not his maid!"

Larry shoots me a pointed glare as he slides into the back seat next to me. "We all pull our weight when we're on tour... and that includes you too. If you're coming along for the ride you're part of the crew as well. We all work together to make sure everything runs smoothly."

I scrunch up my face in disgust. "Well if Van thinks I'm going anywhere near his sweaty post-gig laundry he can get fucked!"

Larry just chuckles. He knows me well enough not to argue.

Much as I'm starting to love those boys, if any of them think that I'll be lifting a perfectly manicured finger to do anything remotely resembling work on this tour they're very much mistaken. I recline in my seat, clicking my seatbelt into place, head filled with thoughts about what the next few exciting weeks are going to hold.

#im with the band #van mccann fanfic #au fanfic #vanfic

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auxtaxi · 15 days ago

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sharath1997 · 1 month ago

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GKCabs - India’s Largest Cab Service

GKCABS – India’s largest cab service, offering affordable and reliable taxi rentals for local, outstation, and airport transfers

GKCABS – India’s largest cab service, offering affordable and reliable taxi rentals for local, outstation, and airport transfers. Book one-way & round-trip cabs with professional drivers, 24/7 availability, and multiple vehicle options. Hassle-free booking & best rates.

#local taxi near me #best local taxi service #city taxi service #local cab booking #instant local taxi booking

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innytoes · 2 years ago

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Ooh how about a wrong number au for Reggie ship of your choice?

- @anotherfantom

-When Ray's phone goes in the middle of the night and hears someone sniffle and ask 'can you come pick me up' he is suddenly wide awake and out of bed in an instant.

-Except Carlos is in his bed, and well, Julie is across the country at university. He is one hundred percent ready to call Victoria and get in his car and drive to the airport to catch the first flight to New York...

-But when the static of adrenaline in his ears wears off, the voice is still talking, rambling: "I know you said it was a bad idea but he was so hot, Alex, he was so hot and charming and I met him somewhere public and I was safe and come on, you know I can't say no to a hot silver fox like that except he wanted to go to this other place away from down town and it was fun but then when I wouldn't put out he left me with the tab and I'm somewhere on the edge of the burbs and there's no busses here and I'm lost and there's no wifi and I'm sorry I didn't listen to you, Lex..."

-And Ray really feels for this guy, but he's not Alex. He gently lets the poor guy know, telling him he's sorry his date went badly, and wishing him good luck.

-The guy, Reggie, is very apologetic for waking him up and ranting at him. He even asks his name so he can apologise properly. He is maybe a little drunk, so Ray humours him.

-He's just cozied back up in bed and dozing off when his phone rings again.

-"You dialed the wrong number again, Reggie."

-"Ray?" Reggie sounds a lot more upset than last time. "Alex isn't picking up and I think I took a wrong turn and now I'm really lost and I still don't have wifi. Or money to call a taxi. Can you please... just... check a map for me or something? Please? I'm sorry."

-And Ray feels so bad for this guy that he actually wanders downstairs and boots up his laptop to do so. Only for Reggie to read the street signs and him to realise that 1) Reggie is nowhere near anywhere he can catch a bus or a taxi to wherever home is and 2) that is a rather sketchy part of town.

-Before he knows it, he's in his car, because he can't just leave some poor unfortunate soul out there, knowing he could have helped.

-When he finds Reggie, he's kind of surprised to see the guy is in his early thirties and not, as Ray was projecting, a teenager or just-turned young adult like his own kids.

-"Reggie?" he asks, and Reggie looks so sad and small his protective instincts flare up again. He opens the passenger door for him and Reggie slides in, looking embarrassed and apologising profusely.

-"Oh man and you're super hot too and I can't even hit on you because you might kick me out of the car and also you already know what a loser I am," Reggie blurts out, and Ray just chuckles because yeah, Reggie is a very honest and rambly drunk.

-He's about to ask Reggie what exactly his address is, since on the phone he only asked for busses to a specific neighbourhood, but Reggie is already passed out in the passenger's seat.

-Which is why - and god he must be insane - he brings Reggie home. He's not quite trusting enough to let him in the guest room inside the house, but he pulls out the sofa in the studio, carries Reggie there, and covers him with some blankets. There's nothing in here worth stealing except Rose's piano, which is pretty impossible to get out of there through the gate (he knows, since Rose pointed it out after he spent a whole Saturday building it when the kids were little, laughing at his face).

-He puts a large note on the door to come up to the house for breakfast if he wants, or some painkillers, and goes back to bed.

-Around ten the next morning, there's a sheepish knock on the backdoor. Ray meets Reggie with some painkillers and a glass of water, getting a muttered 'you really are a hero' as Reggie downs them.

-He kind of has to fill Reggie in on what the hell happened because he can't remember, and the guy was really embarrassed. He admits that his friends warned him not to go on this date, that the guy seemed sketchy, but that he was really hot and charming and he had a motorcycle, and well, he was getting a bit sick of being the perpetually single dude in their friend group.

-They actually get to talking a little about how hard dating is, how The Apps suck, how people only seem to want hook-ups anymore. Ray tells Reggie about how he and his wife had a bizarre Meet Cute where she chased him all over the city because he lost his keys during a photo walk, but he couldn't hear her because he had his Walkman on. And how he wishes he could just have something like that again, an actual 'how we met' story that didn't involve swiping or emojis.

-Yes he grimaces a little at how 'walkman' dates him, but Reggie just swoons at how romantic that is, and tells him about his friends Alex and Willie who literally crashed into each other.

-Around that time, Reggie's friend Alex starts FRANTICALLY CALLING HIM like 'omg you called me seven times in the middle of the night are you okay' and Reggie has to reassure him that he hasn't been serial murdered. He leaves out the whole 'I called a stranger and slept in his garage' part, which, clever.

-Maybe Ray offers to make him breakfast and then drive him home.

-Maybe Reggie asks him out in the car, hopeful and cute and 'hey, you wanted a cool meet cute story right?'

-Maybe Ray says yes.

#I wrote a thing #AUs are awesome #julie and the phantoms #rayxreggie #fanfic #listen making dumb mistakes in your thirties is a VALID LIFE CHOICE don't be mean to Reggie #it worked out for him didn't it he got a Ray out of it #alex: that's not.... okay

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travelrajkot · 1 year ago

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taxi in rajkot - Radhekrishnatravel

The vibrant energy in Surat bustles with the cultural and commerce tapestry. Navigating the 'Diamond City of Gujarat' offers reliable taxi services and daily commutes the tourists with expeditions comfortable for them. Radhe Krishna Travel Taxi Services in Surat caters various experiences to customers and bustles with the cultural & commerce tapestry. In this article we will give a comprehensive overview on Surat's taxi services by exploring its types, factors, services, etc in the dynamic city of Gujarat. Types of Taxi Services: 1. Aggregator Apps: Taxi Service in Rajkot The user-friendly apps for instant car booking like Ola, Uber etc may raise the urban mobility in Surat. It provides best customer services and offers a variety of cars according to individuals comfort with reasonable budgets. This taxi service in rajkot also offers some additional features like ride- sharing, cashless payments, add convence, real time tracking, transparent fares, etc.

Traditional Taxis: Taxis in Rajkot The streets of Surat are personalised with traditional Taxis in Rajkot stands and independent operators and offer a variety of services dotted with the offers of competitive fares especially for local commuters with special attention. The fares can be negotiated by ensuring required metre usage. 3. Radio Cabs: Cabs in Rajkot Surat operates several radio cabs in Rajkot companies mainly known for its reliable & stable drivers with well maintained cars like Savaari and Meru Cabs. The cars can be booked through the companies website or phone apps with seamless experience and fixed fares for specific routes. 4. Airport Taxis: Airport Cab Near Me Pre-paid booths for dedicated taxis at the airport provide convenient transportation options at International Airport of Surat may offer fixed fares according to locations and can be booked easily through the customised phone apps or online platforms in advance. Factors Affecting Your Ride: Time of Day: During the rush hours like morning or evening app based taxis can surge higher demand of pricing, in these times it is good to book a taxi in advance or opt for a traditional taxi can be cost-effective.

Distance and Route: Rajkot to Ahmedabad Distance and Route comprises Longer journeys or outstation trips might require different pricing fares according to location as Rajkot to Ahmedabad compared to short local rides. Some taxis may offer different deals and packages for outstation trips, while others charge per kilometre according to taxi rules. 3. Type of Vehicle: Best Taxi Service in Rajkot The budget is crucial in every type of vehicle so it is necessary to choose a car according to budget, whereas Best Taxi Service in Rajkot premium cars may come at a higher cost as compared to other cars.

Additional Services: Car Rental in rajkot Taxi Services in Surat may offer certain services like Car rental in Rajkot add ons, luggage assistance, meet and greet and child seats for free if you are required for that.

Local Knowledge: The local knowledge of Surat's taxi drivers is invaluable because of its intricate lanes and traffic. The local taxi drivers of Surat are familiar with shortcuts and less congested routes can save your valuable time. Beyond the Ride: Rajkot Cab Technologies are emerging in Surat's taxi services with new players constantly evolving the sustainability initiatives like electric Rajkot cabs are also gaining traction in car entertainment systems, cashless payments and GPS navigation are constantly increasing and becoming increasingly common. The Future of RadheKrishnaTravel Services in Surat: The future of Surat Radhe Krishna Travel taxi services are growing and modernise for further innovations and poised for taxi service integration with public transport systems by the adoption of AI-Powered accessibility for differently abled passengers potential for future development. Conclusion: The taxi services of Surat are vibrant with diverse options comfortable for all passengers with many add ons services, stable and comfortable rides in the evolving landscape of Surat ' The Diamond City of Gujarat' where the wheels outstanding Radhe Krishna Travel taxis may ride you safely with full protection at your destination and offers you various deals and services to fulfil your comfortable rides & trusted rides according to your budget. So in conclusion, the taxi services in Surat are the best choice for passengers to opt for a comfortable and secure ride with different types of car booked by customised mobile apps and websites and are easy to use with several additional options available. So if you are local or a visitor in Surat these taxis help you to derive the cultural landscape of the city in Gujarat.

#onewaytaxi #taxiservice #rajkottaxi #onewaycab #radhekrishnatravel

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lit-works · 2 years ago

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City in Darkness Pt.1 : Flying horses

I swing through the brightly lit canyons of New York City on a single strand of webbing. Below me the city is ablaze with light, from the powerful spotlights framing it's most famous buildings to the soft glow of hundreds of street lamps and apartment windows. It is clearly summer and the warm weather has most of the population outdoors. Couples stroll along the sidewalks, stopping to watch street performers. Executives out on the town hail taxis bound for the theater district. Musicians sound out hot, muggy tones on saxes and clarinets, providing the soundtrack for the small-time hustlers plying the crowd with games and wagers.

I have a bird's-eye view of it all. Or in my case, a Spider's-eye view. I swing down the street, high above the bustle, my weblines arching from their special wrist-mounted shooters, providing a set of strands to carry me from skyscraper to skyscraper. I've gotta get across town fast–a meeting with the Daily Bugle editor Robert Robertson was supposed to start five minutes ago, and lateness is not a virtue looked for in freelance photographers. Not even when Jolly James Jonah Jameson was in charge.

Of course, when it absolutely, positively has to get there overnight, Web-Slinger express is the only way to travel.

I hit a break between buildings where my lines might not reach the next tall structure. Rather than risk missing a shot and wasting web fluid, I tuck into a roll, straighten at the last instant, and make a perfect two-point landing on a movie marquee.

"Hey, it's Spider-Man!" Shouts a voice from the crowd below. Heads turn and I feel the warm gaze of the admiring public.

"Wow!"

"Cool!"

"I thought he was from a comic book?!"

"George, get out your phone!"

Ah, the trials and tribulations of being a celebrity superhero. Adored by millions, or at least hundreds, capable of stunts only dreamed of by mere mortal men, in reality mild-mannered camera hound Peter–

"Ya lousy bum!"

The last comment breaks through my reverie and catches me by surprise. Not the words of an admirer, even in New York. I scan the crowd below to spy my detractor.

"Yeah, you, Spider-bitch! You're a damned menace to society! I read about it in the Bugle! Jameson says your a crook!" The heckler is a nondescript man, about 30, wearing a tan jacket and a Mets cap. I could pass this guy on the street without ever noticing him.

Beneath my mask, I frown deeply. Ok, Spider-Man, do you really wanna take this kind of grief, or do you wanna teach this loudmouth a lesson?

"According to The Daily Bugle, Ant-Man is the Hulk's tailor," I shout back, already shooting my next web-line. "And if you believe that, there's this bridge I want to sell you." A ripple of laughter runs through the gathering crowd, leaving the heckler red and fuming.

Unwilling to spend a beautiful summer evening arguing with a heckler, I swing off, climbing the web-line as I go.

I only get about a half a block away when I hear the loud, dull whumpph of an explosion nearby. The explosion is followed by the chatter of gunfire, mixed with an electric crackle that sounds like a high-schools science experiment gone wild.

Rob Robertson will have to wait. Something has come up–something that requires the presence of your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.

The shots are coming from near by. Swinging around the corner, I get the full picture from three stories above street level.

The center of the street is blocked by an overturned armored vehicle. The truck bears an insignia of a blue horse's head, but otherwise looks like standard US government issue. The truck's massive rear door has been blown off it's hinges and is laying nearby. Army Jeeps, also with the blue horse-head symbol, are pulled over in front and rear of the truck–apparently escorts for whatever was inside the truck.

The occupants of the Jeeps, men and women dressed in blue uniforms, have piled out and are using the vehicles for cover. Their attackers are across the street, crouched in an alleyway: two men, dressed in green body suits, armed with massive weapons that resemble WWII bazookas. These weapons are the source of the unearthly crackling I heard earlier, and the pair are firing random bolts of yellowish lightning at the guards in the Jeeps, keeping them pinned down.

The smoke from the fight clears for a moment, and I see in neat lettering beneath the symbol on the truck, the word: "PEGASUS". Good Gravy! The boys and girls in blue are from Project: PEGASUS.

Project: PEGASUS is an alternate energy source project located in upstate New York, funded by the state department of energy. In the past, the project has investigated alternate forms of energy derived from super-powered criminals, a number of which are former foes of mine. An empty armored truck does not bode well. At least I know who's team I'm on. Whoever would try to knock over an armored truck belonging to PEGASUS has to be up to no good.

I'm not sure why these two groups chose a crowded New York city street to fight in, but it's apparent the guys in green are not too worried about inflicting civilian casualties. This looks like a job tailor-made for the web-slinging wonder, and it might also be a good time to make a few bucks shooting Spider-Man in action.

I find a likely-looking ledge nearby and, drawing my camera out from my belt, mount it firmly with a dab of webbing. I activate the automated timer to continuously snap shots at 5-second intervals.

All these actions come automatically, smoothly developed over years of taking pictures of myself in action. These pictures, sold first to Jameson and the to Robertson at The Daily Bugle, have supplemented my income over the years, and are now my main source of ready cash.

I watch the unfolding battle and notice that the guys in the blue jumpsuits from PEGASUS are taking a pounding from their attackers. There doesn't seem to be a lot of movement from around the truck, one of those heavily armored monsters favored by the military, but fortunately there are no dead bodies, either. The guys with the lightning-firing bazookas look like members of HYDRA, but the green on their uniforms is too washed-out and they are missing the distinctive armband. Could some other flaky subversive group with bad taste have picked up these outfits at a rummage sale and decided to blow up government vehicles?

My fashion analysis is forgotten as my Spider-Sense, the heightened extra-sensory perception that warns me or immediate danger, kicks into full gear. One of the goons in the alley has spotted me, and the way my Spider-Senses are tingling in my head tell me he's got me lined up in his crosshairs.

I dodge out of the way at the last moment, as a massive bolt of electricity carves an equally large gash out of the brick wall, just inches away from my camera. If I wasn't sure before that the guys with the heavy artillery are the bad guys, that little bit of hate mail convinces me. Not only are these fellas dangerous, they're downright unfriendly. Could it be they're friends of that loudmouthed Mets fan, or at least be listening to the same podcasts and reading the same editorials?

My dodging drops me down to just above street level. One of the PEGASUS guards spots me and waves me away. "Get back!!" She shouts, "it's dangerous around here!"

"Surely you jest!" I snap back. "It's more dangerous trying to catch a cab when the theaters and bars let out than this little garden party." I'm too low to web up the bad guys without catching some innocent bystanders. My best move would be to try to get in between the two thugs.

I tense my muscles to leap across the street.

Flexing the muscles that give me the proportional strength and agility of a spider, I leap into the fray. A bolt of energy sears across the street, blasting through the wall directly behind me.

If I'd hung around there, I'd be a crispy critter for sure.

I somersault through the air and over the line of PEGASUS guards.

"Hold your fire, ladies and gents!" I shout, bouncing off the hood of the nearest Jeep. "Perforating my uniform with lead violates the warranty and will mess up your civil service record something fierce!"

A blast of lightning-like forces ionizes the air on top of the Jeep where I stood just moments before. Before the flash has dimmed I'm across the street, directly above the goons.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you guys don't like me. You've been reading the editorials in the Bugle, haven't you?" I quip, as I drop between them. "If you surrender now, I'll arrange for Jameson to visit your cell."

"Eat shock-zooka, webspinner!" Says the thug on my right as he fires a blast from his futuristic weapon.

"Shock-zooka!!" I laugh, dodging the fiery blast. "You'd think the people who use these deadly gadgets would at least come up with an original name for them! Sounds like a monster that fought Godzilla for Tokyo."

Before the thug can get in another shot, I rush him, grabbing the battery-operated bazooka and ripping it from his grasp. The goon on my left, a little dumpier than the other, watches in wonderment, muttering "He moves so fast." The second goon seems so amazed by my speed he has forgotten to aim his own weapon at me.

"You guys are just slow as snails," I taunt, lashing out with both arms at the assailants, "And now it's nighty-night time Shnooky-Ookums!"

I catch both goons flush on the jaw. The weapons clatter to the ground, and I'm left the only one standing in the alley.

So why is my Spidey-Sense still ringing in my ears like a three-alarm fire? I scan the empty alleyway, and no one is there. Not even any garbage or trash cans. A suspiciously well-kept New York alley…

Except for that manhole…

My Spidey-Sense shifts to a frantic pitch, and I realize the danger is from the manhole itself! Something nasty's down there, and I don't think I want to be here to find out what it is!

I leap straight up into the air, reaching for a fire-escape ladder hanging twenty feet up. I am no less than halfway towards my goal when the shockwave of an explosion sends me flying even higher! The booming thunderclap comes from below, and the walls shake as flames jet out the mouth of the manhole. The ground is shattered into a crazy quilt of broken asphalt.

The darkness of the alley is brilliantly lit for a half a heartbeat. The ground heaves and cracks run through the walls. I am thrown clear of the mouth of the alley and only avoid injury from a jagged piece of broken flying pipe by curling into a rolling crouch.

I land on the overturned security truck. Smoke drifts through the alleyway. My two playmates are sprawled out at the mouth of the alley. Guards from the PEGASUS protect are already checking them, while others are moving down the alley itself. A tall blonde woman in a blue jumpsuit stands in the midst of the scene, barking orders. Her hair is pulled back into a tight bun, and she seems to be taking the entire situation, explosion included, as a personal affront.

"Get down that alley!" She shouts at a pair of men, "try to find them!"

"Find who?" I ask, jumping down next to her. She glances at me sideways long enough to know that I am still among the living, but doesn't reply. Find who?! I still want to know. I thought I already took care of the crooks involved.

One of the guards approaches me and the blond woman. "I've contacted the NYPD. Paramedics are en route. There's an APB out for 'em."

"All-points Bulletin?! Who are you looking for?" I ask, but again receive no answer. "I only saw two goons. How many more were there?"

Another guard comes out of the alley. "Explosion in the sewers, ma'am. Awful mess. Must've been an arms depot or something. No sign of them. They must have had a vehicle waiting at the other end of the alley."

"Now wait just a minute!" I shout, turning around to face the head honcho. "Who is missing? Who got away? Who are you looking for?"

She stares at me for a moment, as if I just wandered on to the scene."I suppose you would need to know," she says. "You missed seeing them take him away."

"Let's just say, given the fact that I almost had my head handed to me by thugs with sci-fi blasters, I'm more than mildly curious." Mentally, I am counting to ten.

"We were escorting a prisoner from project headquarters to a parole hearing when we were ambushed." She explained. "The prisoner's name is Maxwell Dillon. You probably know him as Electro."

ELECTRO!

Early in my career as the webspinning wonder I first crossed paths with Maxwell Dillon, better known as the villainous Electro. A freak bolt of lightning transformed him from a lineman for Consolidated Edison into a master of living electricity, who promptly turned his newfound talents to crime. Each time he has gone on a rampage, I have hunted him down and caught him, and each time he has found a way to escape.

A wave of rage washes through me. To be so close and let him get away! Electro has never been one to learn his lesson, or even to lie low for a little bit. He'll be around, looking for revenge! And until he makes his move, me and all the people around Spider-Man are targets.

"Spider-Man?" The commander of the PEGASUS security force intrudes on my thoughts, "I would like to thank you for your help. When these guys recover we'll be sure to get some answers out of them."

"Right," I say, shaking my head. "But by that time, Electro will be miles away."

She shrugs her shoulders. "We do the best we can, when we can. Look, these clowns are going to St.Arbogast's Hospital. Is there somewhere you can be reached when they come to?"

"I'll be around."

"Have it your way, then," she says, nodding, "if you have problems, tell them Captain Nash sent you." With that she turns away and starts shouting at her troops. "You men! Clear those Jeeps out of the way! Let's let those ambulances in! Bashfield! You and Lawson help set up the barriers. Have the police brass arrived yet?!"

Just wonderful. Electro on the loose and all I caught werr a couple of small fry. To top it all off, Peter Parker is even later for that meeting. Some days, as the rabbit said, you shoulda stood in bed.

I leap atop the overturned truck, bouncing off the PEGASUS emblem. At the high point of the leap, I loose a single strand of webbing, mooring it against a handy flagpole jutting out from the Empire State Building three stories above me.

Twisting my body, I swing up to the highest point, then fire another strand, and in this fashion swing off into the night, hoping to make it to the Bugle before Robbie gives up hope on me. Behind me, the whine of the police sirens and the shouts of captain Nash are lost in the ambient city noise.

#marvel #marvel comics #marvel characters #comic books #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #l1t3rat1 #my fanfiction #spiderman #peter parker #j jonah jameson #electro #pegasus #marvel fanfic series #aunt may

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carataxi · 18 days ago

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How to Quickly Find a Trusted Cab Service Near Me in Any Irish Town

If you are new to Ireland, then searching for a reliable taxi app can be confusing. When you type cab service near me, you get generic suggestions but need a local, trusted cab that arrives quickly. The following steps will guide you through the process to get the right taxi service to go to Kilkenny, Galway, Limerick, or a small village in Ireland.

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shivshaktiactivator · 20 days ago

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Taxi Service in Dwarka: Hassle-Free Rides for Your Jungle Safari!

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airbuffaloshuttle · 20 days ago

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Finding the Best Taxi Near Me: Your Guide to Buffalo Niagara Airport Taxi & Shuttle Services

When searching for a "taxi near me" in the Buffalo Niagara region, especially for airport transfers, it's essential to choose a service that's reliable, affordable, and convenient. Whether you're a local resident or a visitor, understanding the available options can make your journey smoother. This guide highlights top taxi and shuttle services catering to Buffalo Niagara International Airport and the surrounding areas.

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