#and she found him by accident when she showed up to stop a robbery that Robin is in the middle of dismantling

[mnemonicpneumaticknife]

Diana: "I mean this in the best possible way, but caring for your ward

My take on the whole 'the JL gets mad at Batman for having a child soldier when he gets robin' thing goes like this:

The League is having a fight with Batman saying it's wrong to bring a child, especially with no powers, into fights with supervillains and it's irresponsible to put children in danger

And Batman interrupts with "so you take him then"

And the League just kind pause, like "huh?"

"One of you can babysit Robin for a week and then we can revisit this discussion."

They're a little confused but eventually Wonder Woman agrees to take him in.

She returns with him a week later. "I apologize Batman, we have misjudged you. I adore him but please take him back now."

(she couldn't get him to stop sneaking out to fight crime without physically restraining him)

[callivich]

🎭 Gallavich Masquerade Event Prompts 🎭

Prompts for @gallavichthings Gallavich Masquerade Event!

Here are a selection of optional prompts that you can use for the Gallavich Masquerade Event! Interpret these however you like and feel free to use them as just a jumping off point, you don’t have to stick to the exact prompt!

Mickey comes out of juvie for the first time and feels more jealous that he realises. One glimpse of Ian just talking to Kash and Mickey knows he wants to take the next step. He decides to kiss Ian.

Despite the fact Mickey doesn’t want to move to the West Side, he adjusts to it surprisingly quicker than either of them would have imagined. Weirdly, Ian finds himself unhappy living there.

Sammi never reports Ian to the army. Instead of their date, Mickey suggests a trip. It’s nothing fancy - just a seedy motel - but it helps Ian all the same.

Ian doesn’t work at a regular club, it’s a club where everyone is in masks. But it doesn’t take Mickey long to track Ian down in the crowd, even if Ian wants to pretend he’s not who Mickey thinks he is.

Mickey and Ian have always been close friends as kids, when Mandy accuses Ian in s1 of messing with her, Mickey feels pressure to defend his sister but is there something else going on?

S6. Ian keeps getting random text messages from an unknown number who won’t give a name, but he’s feeling lonely so he responds. It’s strange but the texts remind him of Mickey. But Mickey’s in jail, he doesn’t have a phone. Or does he?

Fiona comes to stay with Ian and Mickey in their new West Side apartment. Ian goes through a bit of a depressive episode. Fiona gets an insight into how much Mickey cares for Ian and what married life looks like for them.

They don’t go through with the born free robbery because Lip and Mickey get in a car accident, Ian is angry that his husband is injured and that he could have been caught doing something illegal.

Early seasons - Ian’s been arrested for something he didn’t do. He was at a baseball game with Mickey, who still has their ticket stubs. But can Mickey bring himself to be Ian’s alibi? And will the cops even believe him?

Ian wants everything to go perfectly with Mickey once he gets out of jail in s10. He suggests they even hold off on the sex so they can have a few dates first. Mickey is sceptical but it turns out dating is kinda fun….

Post-finale, Mickey and Ian are contacted out of the blue via email to provide their security services to an up and coming company. They are very surprised when they show up for their first job and find that Svetlana is the manager.

S8. Ian gets involved with a rich, older man who offers to take him on a free trip to Mexico. He’s not going to turn down a free vacation, especially one to the same country Mickey is in. Obviously, Mexico’s a big place but it doesn’t stop Ian keeping an eye out….

Ian’s seen all different kinds of drunk Mickey over the years - angry, sleepy, loud, funny. But it turns out fancy cocktails on the West Side are bringing out a new drunk Mickey - flirty and sappy. Ian kinda loves it.

Mickey gets a deal instead of juvie - he has to complete summer school and accept tutoring. Ian manages to wrangle his way into being Mickey’s tutor. Ian is pleased to see just how smart Mickey is, while Mickey gets worried when he realises his feelings for Ian are deeper than he thought.

Early seasons - both of them secretly make a New Year’s resolution. What they don’t realise is that their resolutions have a lot of similarities…

The guard Mickey seduced to break out of jail the first time has discovered Ian and Mickey are married. She starts to send letters. Mickey brushes it off but Ian worries…has Mickey got a stalker?

When Ned dies, he leaves Ian some money in his will. Mickey thinks he should accept it, but Ian’s not so sure….

Ian injures himself during ROTC practice in the abandoned building, it’s up to Mickey to take care of him.

S4. Ian doesn’t want to be found but he can’t stop thinking about Mickey. So he’s sending anonymous letters every other day. Mickey knows the letters are from Ian but doesn’t know where he is. One day, Ian gives a PO Box address, Mickey writes back….

Ian and Mickey are both placed at Old Army. How long will it take for their coworkers to realise they’re in a relationship?

Operation Matchmaker a.k.a Ian and Mickey try to help Debbie and Sandy get back together. They may or may not be successful and they may or may not learn something about their own relationship in the process.

S11. It’s Ian who comes up with the idea of a prize for the winner of their stupid video game competitions but it’s Mickey who makes it interesting….

They get married at city hall. But Mickey’s acting weird….after some miscommunication, Ian figures out it’s because he wants a wedding.

Post-prison, s10. Ian notices Mickey is struggling adjust to finally being free.

Early seasons - It must be the great weed that Mickey had stolen from Iggy, that has to be the only reason he’s answering each and every stupid question Ian asks on a warm summer evening.

➡️ More Gallavich prompts here! 👀

[breakerwhiskey]

228 - TWO HUNDRED TWENTY EIGHT

Please visit breakerwhiskey.com for more information or to send a message to Whiskey's radio. Breaker Whiskey is an Atypical Artists production created by Lauren Shippen. If you'd like to support the show, please visit patreon.com/breakerwhiskey.

Transcript under the cut. For more episodes, click here.

[click, static]

She said it was the right thing to do. That the gravy train had to stop at some point, and that she wanted to get off before she became a casualty of it. I think that’s a pretty fucking presumptuous thing to assume—plenty of thieves don’t get caught and we were good. And, besides, she could have just quit! She didn’t have to be doing what she was doing, but when she found out about Pete…

When I’ve said that I never knew much about Pete’s life, that was true. Mostly. I really never did know anything about his personal life or what he’d been doing before putting together this crew. I never asked and he never volunteered any information.

But that wasn’t the whole truth. I didn’t know much about his life then but Harry…Harry filled in some blanks.

Pete wasn’t just an art thief. It wasn’t all penthouses and auction houses for him, apparently. He started with banks. And something like ninety percent of all bank robbers get caught, but Pete was…the best of the best. The feds had no clue who he was, barely even had his height and race. And then, one off the robberies went bad and he—a few people died. Three people.

So he came back to his hometown of New York to disappear among the millions. He cooled his heels and then he started in again, just on a higher brow racket.

I don’t know how Harry figured this out. We…we didn’t get to that point in our conversation. (scoffs) “Conversation”, there’s a euphemism for it. Argument? Screaming match? Dropping a nuclear bomb into our tentatively okay existence? I was a little more focused on the revelation that the person I’d been living with for six years had betrayed me and the people we cared about. The revelation that my mentor had killed a few people…

I don’t know. I’m still not sure…Harry has no reason to lie. Not about this. And, I guess, there were things through the years that made me think Pete’s past was a lot more checkered than even your typical thief. But I wasn’t lying when I said he always seemed like a stand-up guy to me. He was. He was good and kind and fair and the fact that he made his money through illegal endeavors felt really secondary to all of that.

I’m not sure the knowledge that he’s killed people—multiple people and not—not entirely by accident, not like—

It should change things. I know it should. And it isn’t that I don’t believe Harry, even not knowing how she found out about it, it—I don’t think she would have done what she did unless she’d been certain. I’ll give her that. But it hasn’t reshaped who Pete is in my head.

He took me in, mentored me, was a friend. He made me his ally when he could have just as easily made me an enemy. He saw something in me. Something worth…something worth attention and care. And I hadn’t had that since my father died and I—

I’ve thought a lot about what I would have done if I’d known before. I’ve shared nearly every other thought I’ve had in my head besides these ones, because I had to make room somehow, over this past—god, year, since I learned the truth.

What if Harry had come to me first before going to the feds? What if I’d been the one to uncover Pete’s past and not her? What would I have done?

I wouldn’t have betrayed him, that’s for sure and fucking certain. I probably would’ve confronted him about it. Maybe. I would’ve wanted to hear his side of things. I would’ve wanted to know why he did what he did, how he felt about it now. And maybe I wouldn’t have—well, I wouldn’t have understood it, the way I do now, if I’d known before, because if I’d known, we never would’ve been arrested and I’d never have killed Billings and—

[click, static]

I still think I would’ve been sympathetic. Empathetic. I don’t know. I would’ve given him…grace. Forgiveness. Even if it isn’t mine to forgive. I would’ve loved him just the same.

And that’s the rub, isn’t it? Harry said that she could never—she said that she wasn’t honest about how she felt because she was too swallowed up by guilt, was too scared to tell me the truth and have me run away and too scared to start anything when she had this secret but what if it wasn’t that at all? What if the way she felt about me—the way she’d ever be able to feel about me—changed the moment Billings hit the pavement? She found the truth out about Pete and stopped caring for him in a blink. She saw what I did, so surely—

[click, static]

Well, in any case, I guess she was right. I did run away.

[click, static]

[warriorsunitedbythestars]

Afterthoughts on Puss in Boots 1 & 2

Hey guys, so I just saw Puss in Boots 2; The Last Wish. And while I do love it? There's one big problem I have with it. The relationship between Puss & Kitty. Now I do love these two and absolutely ship them but the problem I have is the way they are shown in the movies side by side.

In the first movie? Puss was running from the law out of survival when he was set up by his Ex-friend and Brother, Humpty Alexander Dumpty. Puss wasn't a full on criminal until the robbery of The San Ricardo Bank. He had given up on petty theft and decided to help people in the community of San Ricardo. He even says how this was thier home and the people didn't do anything to hurt them. So Humptys betrayal hurt Puss and cost him his home, his mom, and his honor. At this point, he's a hit man and thief for hire out of survival.

Enter Kitty Softpaws who is also a solo thief. Known for her stealth and having "The Softest Touch in Spain". She was a stray with lovely claws. She was adopted by a loving couple but after a few too many mishaps involving her claws (scratching curtins and rough housing with a hamster & accidently killing it) so she was declawed. She's working with Humpty to get the golden goose and it's golden eggs. What's left unknown how much of the plan she knew. Its not clear if she knew that Humpty was planning to backstab Puss or to destroy San Ricardo via the Great Terror aka golden goose's momma. Regardless, she ends up sharing the betrayal in Puss's eyes. She admits to him that Puss shows her that she's found something she cares about more than gold. No, someONE. The two team up to stop Humpty and they are successful in not only saving the town but in redeeming Humpty.

Now the second movie hints at how Puss and Kitty were going to get married but Puss didn't show up. This isn't out of character since Puss has always run from his problems. I mean it was only when his mother begged him to stop running that he surrendered and went to jail peacefully when he could have escaped just fine. But before it was out of survival. As time went on, he gradually became addicted to the thrill of defying death. I mean if he has 8 extra lives to spare, so why should he be worried? This fed his pride in his legend, his adrenaline rush, and his biggest flaw: running away from his problems and consequences. Its only in the Cave of Lost Souls that he realizes how empty his lives have truely been.

It also hints at there were more times when Kitty faced betrayal by others, not just her infamous declawing. But what always throws me is how she's hyper aggressive about how Puss left her in Santa Colomba yet she later claims she didn't show up either. That she's never had someone she could trust.

I know she's lying about not showing up but maybe it's not Puss she's mad at. Maybe, it's that she's mad at herself because now she knows how it feels to stab someone you love in the back only to have it done to you in return, intentionly and directly or otherwise. Or in laments terms? Professionally, she's used to being betrayed and being the betrayer. Comes with being a solo thief. But in personal relationships? She's only used to being the betrayed, NOT the betrayer.

Remember; she stabbed Puss in the back first. Now he's returned the favor. She's mad at both him and herself. She's using his obsession with his legend and image as a justification for her anger without actually talking about the root issue. How do I know? Look at what the map shows her:

Puss is learning how his reckless lifestyle has left him alone and with even death himself wanting Puss gone for good. But Kitty is essentially running from herself and how for years? The only person who she's ever felt safe around is the same person she betrayed. She's running from her guilt, her loneliness, and her fear of betrayal.

[vendettaparker]

What a Dumbass [P.P]

Summary: Peter’s mistake leads to you being injured. 

Pairing: Peter Parker x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 2.1K

Warnings: Swearing, like a substantial amount, suggestive content kinda, gun shot wound, and flustered!Peter 

a/n: I really liked writing this. I couldn’t stop laughing at some of the dialogue. and the mistake peter made to cause the whole set-up of the story is so funny to me. like i can legit see him making this mistake. also, i’m gonna make a permanent tag list, so please send me an ask or message me if you want to be on it! <3

        ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

     Peter Benjamin Parker is a fucking dumbass. All the time mostly. Most of the time his dumbassery leads to a lot of annoyed avengers, a lot of clean up, and a lot of spilled secrets. Hence why like three people who definitely shouldn’t know he is Spider-man do. But every once in while his idiocy can lead to an unexpected happily ever after, at least until he fucks something up again. 

     This particular fuck up has yet to be determined as a happy accident or your new 13th reason. It all started when that spider bitch decided it’d be a good idea to watch some explicit content on his laptop. Now, this wasn’t particularly an unknown activity for him to partake in, since we all know about his little impromptu purchase in Germany, but unbeknownst to this dork, his aunt was in the next room over working on a tear in his suit. And to make matters worse, he accidentally just so happened to purchase a subscription using said aunt’s credit card that was pre-setup in his laptop. 

     Now May is a very understanding woman. Very sex-positive, very loving, and inclusive; the whole shebang really. So when she happened to catch this idiot doing what he most certainly shouldn’t have been doing, she wasn’t mad, just thoroughly disturbed. Then she got the notification about the purchase. That was a bit more taboo in her eyes. So Peter was grounded from patrolling for a week and his laptop privileges were revoked for two weeks. That was fucking merciful compared to what this whole fuck up put you through. 

     At the school that following Monday, Peter spent the whole first, second, fourth, and lunch period trying to convince you to take over patrol for a week. Sure, you could definitely handle it, not to pat yourself on the back or anything, but you were significantly stronger than Peter, so it shouldn’t have been that big of a deal. But you just really didn’t want to. Peter had his ‘Peter Tingle’ to help him find danger, while you’d actually have to look. It just seemed harder for you to do than it would be for him. 

     “Why are you even grounded?” You sighed after Peter's 3rd time bringing up the possibility of you patrolling for him at lunch. 

     “He got caught watching and buying p—” Ned started laughing.

     “Ned! Shut up!” Peter yelled, slapping his hand over his friend's mouth. 

     “How has your identity not been leaked yet, Jesus Christ.” You mumbled, giggling. You flipped through your chemistry textbook, writing notes to prepare for Friday’s quiz. 

     “Yeah, and how come you didn’t know May was home?” Ned pushed Peter’s hand away. “Where was your ‘Peter Tingle’ then?” 

     “She’s not a threat, dude. But shit, I really wish my tingle detected her.” Peter groaned, a deep blush covering his features. “Please (Y/N). I really, really don’t wanna leave Queens without any protection for a week. I’ll try to convince May to let me go out on the weekend, so really it’s only five days.” 

     “I guess I could help you out, but you owe me. I should really spend this time studying for my chemistry test. Iron bitch is gonna have my head on a spike if I fail another chem test.” You said, highlighting more notes. 

     “Okay! Delmar’s for a week, anytime, anywhere.” Peter said putting his hand out for you to shake. 

     “Make it a month, I know my worth.” 

     Peter hesitated, but eventually gave in, “Fine, but you better do a good job.” 

        ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

     So now you were stuck patrolling from 8:30 to 11:00 every night. It wasn't bad per se, and nothing too eventful happened. You stopped a small convenience store robbery, gave a few kids some tips at the skatepark, ran some errands for an old lady, and saved a cat from a tree. Thursday night was the real kicker though. Your night had barely started and you accidentally got in the middle of a drug deal between some smaller mob and a real messed-up junkie. This should’ve been an easy takedown, only six people in total that needed to be taken out, but like was mentioned before, you don’t have Peter’s goddamn, stupid fucking tingle. So after taking all six of the perps out you started to walk away after alerting the police. Unfortunately, one of those assclowns had come to, and grabbed the gun a few feet away from him and shot it towards you. The bullet went through your thigh and out the other side. Screaming in shock and pain, you used your own throwing knives and knocked the gun out of the mobster’s hand, then you proceeded to knock him out again with a few good punches to his noggin, maybe a few more, just for good measure. But this wound would need to be cleaned and stitched up. And if you went back to the Tower, Steve and Tony would give you an earful about “watching your surroundings” and “being more careful”. So in a moment of pure adrenaline and desperation, you texted Peter. 

You: are you home

Spider-Dork: Yeah, why?

You: i’ll be there in 5 

Spider-Dork: What? Why? Is everything ok?

Spider-Dork: Hello??? (Y/N)????

(Y/N) declined (3) calls 

Spider-Dork: Answer my calls idiot. 

     Peter’s texting and constant calling was cut short from a crash in his room. 

     “(Y/N)? Is that you?” Peter called from the couch in the living room. 

     “Yeah, can I borrow a t-shirt?” You called, fumbling around accidentally knocking over another lamp. “Oops, sorry!”

     “Uh, yeah sure. In the closet!” Peter called back pausing his show, prepared to make his way over to you. 

     “And some sweats?” You called back, blood dripping all over Peter’s hardwood floor. 

     Peter got up to make his way to his room. “Yeah, second drawer on the left side.” He said as he made his way to his bedroom. Knowing you were in there, most likely changing, he knocked. “You decent?” 

     “Nope, not really. I need a pair of your boxers too, though.” You called through the door, now seeing that the blood splattered on your underwear as well. “Also, bring the first aid kit when you come in.” 

     ‘What? Why?” Peter said in a more stressed tone, pushing his way into the room, completely ignoring the fact that you were very much not decent. “Holy shit.” He said seeing you out of your suit, in your bra and underwear, blood dripping down your right leg, pooling onto the floor. Your hand, red and bloody, pressed onto what he only assumed was the wound and blood seeping through your fingers. 

     “Bring a mop too.” 

     Peter ran out of the room to grab the first aid kit, plus some extra bandages and a cleaning solution. When he came back in he found you in the same state, standing in the middle of the room, eyebrows furrowed in pain, clutching your right thigh. 

     “What the hell happened?” He gasped, motioning for you to sit on his bed. You hesitated, not wanting to mess up his sheets. He seemed to notice your thought process quickly adding, “I have to wash my sheets anyway.” 

     “Gross.” You mumbled, scrunching up your face in disgust and finally settling down on his bed. 

     “Move your hand and tell me what happened,” Peter said kneeling on the floor next to the bed, positioned right at your hips. You removed your hand, bloody instantly seeping onto the bed. Peter winced looking at the hole in your leg, quickly grabbing the peroxide and dumping heaps of it onto your leg, much to your distaste. 

     “I got shot.” You stated as he cleaned the blood around the hole with alcohol pads.

     “Well, no shit. I mean by who and how?” 

     “Mobster. Sneaky bitch got me while I was walking away.” You winced as Peter inspected the wound further. 

     “I need to stitch this up. Did it go all the way through?” He said lifting your leg to look underneath for an exit wound. 

     “Yeah.” Peter found the exit wound and held your leg up with one hand, pouring peroxide on the back of your thigh with the other. 

     “You have to be more careful, (Y/N)! This looks really nasty.” Peter scolded, setting your leg back down and prepping the needle and sutures. “What if this was in your chest? Or—or if you didn’t get here in time? You could’ve bled out!” 

     “Well sorry that I don’t have your stupid tingle to help me out when I’m being fucking shot at!” You yelped, gripping the bedsheets. 

     “You don’t need spidey sense, you need fucking common sense,” Peter mumbled, stitching his first suture.

     “What the fuck did you just say?” You looked at him incredulously. 

     “I— uh, nothing.” Peter huffed, focusing back on stitching you up.

     “This is your all your fault, to begin with!” You accused, shifting uncomfortably, due to the needle constantly being stuck into your leg. “You’re the one that begged me to go on patrol for you! You’re the dumb bitch that got caught watc—” 

     “Ok! Shut up! For God’s sake, you’re never gonna let me live that down.” Peter groaned, finishing up the last stitch. “Flip over.” He commanded, pushing at the side of your waist to help with the movement. 

     “Well, it was fucking dumb. Don’t you check to make sure nobody’s home? God, we all know you’re a vocal bitch too.” You said, fully situated on your stomach. 

     “What the fuck is that suppose to mean!?” He gasped, prepping another needle. 

     “You’re a sensitive boy.” You shrugged, wincing when Peter started his next stitch. 

     “I-I am not sensitive! I’m emotionally and physically staunch!” He defended, going in for another stitch. 

     You just raised an eyebrow in amusement. “Sure, whatever you say, babe.” You winked at him, blowing an exaggerated kiss. 

     “You're a jerk,” Peter mumbled, finishing up his stitching job. “A jerk with a fucked up leg.” 

     You hummed, quite amused. Peter got up and started to collect his medical supplies. He shuffled out of the room to put everything away. When he returned you were trying to get up and walk, wincing at every slight movement. 

     “Here, let me just—” Peter lifted you up, bridal style. A small yelp coming from you when a sharp pain shot through your leg. “Sorry.”

     “It’s fine. Can you help me get dressed?” You said as he walked you over to his desk and set you down in his desk chair. 

     “Sure.” Peter blushed, painfully aware of your lack of clothes. He picked out some clothes from his closet and drawers. He helped you into them, wallowing in the uncomfortable silence, taking in each whimper and wince from you whenever he brushed against your thigh. 

     “Fuck, I’m so sorry.” He sighed after you were all dressed. “This is my fault.” 

     You looked at his distraught face, feeling bad for initially blaming him for the events of tonight. “No, Pete. It’s fine. I should’ve made sure all of the guys were knocked out.” You put a hand on his shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze.

     “No, I should’ve been more careful when I was watching that stuff. I have my spidey sense, I would’ve been able to avoid getting shot. It’s not your fault that you didn’t get bit by a radioactive spider.”

     “Pete, really, I’ll be better by next week anyway. It’s fine.” 

     Peter shook his head, sighing. “I just feel so bad, I shouldn’t have forced patrolling on you.” You hugged him and rubbed his back soothingly. “It’s my fault you got hurt.” 

     “Peter stop. It’s just an unfortunate accident.” You mumbled, hugging him closer. “It could’ve happened to anyone.”

     “But it didn’t happen to just anyone (Y/N), it happened to you. And I caused it. I-I don't know what I’d do if something ever happened to you. What if it was worse?”

     You sighed, pulling away from Peter and cupping his face, seeing the regret and shame pooling in his eyes. Without much thought, you pulled him closer, slowly connecting your lips in a sweet kiss. Truly getting lost in the feeling of his lips against yours, the feeling of perfection. 

     Peter’s eyes widened in shock for a moment, before he was kissing you back, reveling in the feeling he’s been dreaming about for months. You finally pulled away to catch your breath. Peter flushed at your actions, unable to stop the wide smile crossing his features. 

     “Sorry,” You mumbled sheepishly, “just needed to shut you up for a second.”

     “Maybe I should talk more, just to see what happens,” Peter smirked, pulling you in for another shorter, but just as sweet, kiss. 

     You hummed against his lips. “I really like you. Even when you're a dumbass.” You sighed against his lips.

     “The feeling is mutual.” 

     “Rude. I’m not a dumbass.” You gasped in faux offense. 

     “You’re the one with a bullet wound.” he deadpanned 

     “You’re the one who got caught watchin—”

     “(Y/N)!”

[jortsaaaaaaart]

To Be Forgotten Amongst Friends chp1

Omega! Reader x avengers

Hello all! I revamped my story "ikaros" and this is the new story! Also the name is long rip.

Trigger warnings (later chapters mostly)- ptsd, noncon, kidnapping, human experimentation, Stockholm and lima syndrome

The following chapters will be posted on- https://archiveofourown.org/works/33890977     (seriously- may not post here that often cause i hate the tagging system- go check out ao3)

It's a beautiful day in New York and you're a terrible, no good, thief. 

You were considered New York’s very own Robin Hood. Two hundred ATM robberies in two years, the money flying out of the machines and into the hands of people who needed it. The banks, collectively, had lost over $300,000 from the ATMs alone. But of course, it wasn't just the ATMs. A rash of robberies had spread over the East coast. Most were digital, companies funneling their own money to offshore accounts that wanted nothing to do with U.S. intervention. The FBI were notified, then the CIA, and eventually- after a daring cyber attack against the DOD- SHIELD itself turned it's one eyed gaze onto you.

Nick Fury saw something the other agencies didn't. You had certain gifts that made your line of work incredibly easy. Whether they were natural mutations or some sort of superpower, they allowed you to break into some of the most secure networks known to man. He had almost found you when SHIELD fell and his resources vanished. After the dust cleared he was forced to start from scratch. Hunting you and the remnants of Hydra down at the same time wasn't easy, but, in a strange twist of fate, he found someone else that was searching for you too.

+++

New York was filled with so many people. Most of them were good, in your opinion. (Well, maybe half, actually.) You spent most of your off time working on "projects" or walking around the city. You had become a fixture at the local Bodega. Single omegas were extremely  rare, marked single omegas were almost unheard of. The mark gave you certain freedoms other omegas, sadly, didn't have. It drove away most potential suitors and the ones who were particularly bold would be given a taste of your powers. Once the burrow had gotten used to your presence they saw you as a generous person, but a secretive one. Someone who took no shit even with their designation. You gave to the community and different Omega rights groups in the area. After years of watching you quietly go about helping people you had been welcomed into the burrow's heart with open arms.

You loved helping people in your own way. You loved it just as much as you hated corporations and the police, but when you could make an ATM spew it's contents out into the poorest streets of Brooklyn or make Fox News send a million dollars to Planned Parenthood, you could have the best of both worlds.

At least, for a time. All good things had to end, right? That's what you told yourself as the redhead picked her way through the crowd towards you. 

Seeing an avenger in your neighborhood was an odd occurrence. It was a poorer part of town, untouched in the battle of New York, and too out of the way for any super villain origin stories. In fact, you seemed to be the only mutant in the entire block. You'd always thought, if someone was going to come for you, it would be a couple of FBI agents and not the fucking Black Widow. Your brain and heart went into overdrive as you tried to remember doing anything worth the avenger's time. But there was nothing. The DOD hack had been almost a year ago and all you did was release government files showing attacks on civilians overseas. It hardly seemed like an avengers worthy crime, especially when Black Widow herself had leaked government secrets before.

Any hope of her not not looking for you was dashed when her eyes locked onto yours. She tilted her head, asking a silent question. 

The burst of adrenaline sent you careening through the lunchtime crowds. You couldn't feel anyone on the rooftops but there was a large form blocking your path, trying to box you in. They were stronger and faster but you knew the environment. You ducked into Charlie's, your sneakers skidding on the asphalt as you took the sharp turn. The person behind the counter lazily looked up as you walked to the back. They knew you well enough to not care, they also weren't paid enough to care. The alley would open up into a busy side street. More people meant a better chance to blend in and get away. You were almost to the end when the door opened behind you. Black Widow and fucking Captain America stepped into the alley. For a moment the three of you stood in something akin to a standoff. 

You felt wildly undressed for this life-threatening situation.

"We just want to talk, (Y/N)" Captain America told you, hands raised. The unmistakable stink of an alpha radiated from the captain. You were momentarily thankful for your mark dulling its effect on you. Though, the blonde's scent was tinged with something hauntingly familiar. Something you didn't want to recognize.

Behind him, Black widow's free hand went to her ear. "Target is in the alley between 31st and 32nd," A twitch of your finger and the line went dead. Her hand dropped to the gun at her hip.

"I'm feeling pretty under equipped for this 'conversation'," You replied, slowly raising your hands as well, wondering if they could feel what you were doing. They didn't react and you slowly let your power seep from you.

Natasha was the first to react, drawing her gun and spinning around. Steve looked at her with confusion as her wide eyes scanned the alley as if she was seeing ghosts. She was afraid he realized, a cold feeling settling in his stomach. He moved towards her and you took off running. You felt him hesitate then take off after you, gaining on you with an embarrassingly low number of strides. You tried your powers again, stronger this time, but his focus was unwavering. He was almost to you now and you were running out of options. That’s when the alpha in him came out.

“Omega!” He snarled, “Stop!” Your feet slowed down immediately. It wasn’t as strong as your own alpha’s command would be, but the super soldier certainly commanded respect and obedience. You were forced to stand still, eyes burning holes in the asphalt, as the alpha’s footsteps grew closer. You really didn't want to do this but it looked like you had no choice. Your jaw clenched, and you spun around when his hand grabbed your arm. The blonde's eyes widened as you placed a palm to his chest. 

He barely had time to glance down at your hand before the electricity hit him.

The 1,000 volts you sent into him were supposed to stun him or send him flying, allowing you to escape. However, his muscles spasmed just a bit stronger than you intended. In an instant his grip crushed the bones in your arm and sent the two of you careening backwards into a brick wall. Natasha would find you a moment later, passed out on top of the super soldier, a sizable hole in the wall.

You woke up in an unfamiliar bed, a few blurry white shapes milled about in the corners of your vision. You couldn't remember how you got here, or where here was. All your senses seemed to be dulled. Your wrist was throbbing and each time you opened your eyes the room came in and out of focus. You closed your eyes, opting to ignore the funhouse effect and focus on the sounds around you. The beeping of the monitors, footsteps on concrete, and two low voices.

"She's alright, Buck, I promise." Steve's voice wavered in and out of your consciousness bringing with it the memory of how you got into this bed. "She did something to Nat and ran before I could explain. I wasn't expecting her powers to be so strong."

"I should have come with you," Another voice snarled. Your heart skipped a beat at the low growl. You knew that voice. It evoked a sickening combination of need and terror and you couldn't remember why. "She wouldn't have gotten hurt if I had. What idiot doesn't know omegas are fragile?!"

"It was an accident!" His voice raised slightly before sighing. "I know you're worried, but she's fine."

The scent you had smelled on Steve earlier swirled around the room. Metal and burning pine, it affected you just like the voice had, triggering both panic and yearning. You knew it somehow. The memory was there somewhere, tucked away where it couldn’t hurt you. Where it should have been forgotten.

The scent grew unbearably strong as he leaned over you, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. When he pulled back he wasn't expecting his eyes to catch yours. 

His expression softened as soon as he realized you were awake. "Omega," Bucky whispered reverently. Stormy blue eyes stared down at you with love and adoration, watching the color drain from your face. "Doll?" 

Somewhere in the back of your mind you could hear the panicked beeping of the machines and Steve trying to calm you down. But it didn't matter. All that you could feel was the need to get far, far, away from this man. You didn't know how you knew him but you knew he was dangerous. You knew he had hurt you. That's why, as he reached out to gently cup your face, you slapped his hand away. 

"Get away from me!" You gasped, voice breaking. You scooted back and tried to back up as far as possible. Your shaky legs barely held your weight as you slid off the bed. Pure terror coursed through your veins, it was the only thing keeping you on your feet. You found yourself pressed into the corner of the room while the men stared at you in shock. Steve and Bucky gaped like you had just told them the Germans had actually won WWII. Eyebrows knit together, blue eyes wide and frantic, Bucky looked like he was in emotional turmoil.

“(Y/N), doll, it’s okay. It’s me. It’s your alpha.” Bucky reached out to you carefully as a low purr rumbled from his chest.

You felt the purr relax you and dull your senses even more. It was nauseating. “I don’t have an alpha! And I don’t know who the hell you are!” You tried to shout and grit your teeth but the words came out in broken sobs, betraying your weakness. Who was this? Why was he the most terrifying thing you had ever seen?

Your teeth were bared at this point but the man kept coming towards you. The tunnel vision and rapid shallow breaths were the only warnings your body gave you as it reverted to its animalistic omega framework. Bucky watched as, in slow motion, your eyes went blank as your body gave out. 

+++

Your alpha held your body to his chest in disbelief. He had expected some shock at seeing him but this went far beyond his expectations. It had been over three years since he'd last seen you. Since he'd last been able to drink in your scent. He'd figured you might not recognize him at first. He had changed a lot over the years. No longer under Hydra's control his physical appearance, demeanor, and scent had changed. But your body should've known your alpha. 

"What was that?" Steve asked. "Why did she react like that when she has your mark?" The two alphas were on edge. Seeing a vulnerable omega drop triggered their protective instincts. Steve desperately wanted to take you and hold you close, ease you out of the drop. If the alpha holding you was anyone other than his closest friend and packmate he would have ripped you out of his grasp immediately. For now he'd have to hold himself back.

"She didn't remember me." Bucky nuzzled his head into your neck, nursing your mark softly. After a moment he pulled back and gazed at your unchanged features. He couldn't wake you from this drop that easily. He pressed in harder this time, teeth lining up with the scar perfectly, but there was still no change. No purr, command, or bite was waking you up.

"We should let her rest, Buck. The pain meds will wear off soon and we'll try again. . . Bring her to the den. She'll need to get used to everyone's scents sooner or later." Steve laid a hand on his friend's shoulder. It was a gentle but firm suggestion. He knew tensions were high, the den, with it's heavy curtains and plush blankets, would calm down his friend and the omega. With little argument the brunette lifted you up and carried you to the den. It was aptly named and extremely well constructed thanks to Stark. Curtains blocked off all light from the windows, mattresses were inlaid into the ground, and the temperature was always cool. It was one good thing about being in a pack with that narcissist, Bucky thought dryly.

Steve led them into a cozy corner of the room. The captain hummed happily as they moved the pillows and blankets, creating a makeshift nest for the three of them. The feeling of the omega pressing into his chest was addictive. He couldn't wait for you to remember your alpha.

The sooner you remembered your bond with Bucky the sooner the rest of the pack, Steve included, could court you.

[thecinematicalgorithm]

10 Reasons Why Zekaela Should Be Endgame (And Jachaela Should Not) - Part One

Sorry Jachaela fans but this analysis is not for you. I am Team Zeke all the way and I was pretty much Team Zeke from the moment he crashed onto the floor. To be clear though I am not a hater of Jared. I think that in his own right Jared is a good character, with good chemistry with Michaela and the rest of the cast, largely in part of J.R. Ramirez’s great acting. But however much I like Jared for what he brings to the story my heart belongs to Zekaela and here are the reasons why:

10. They Understand Each Other

Before they even met Zeke and Michaela seem to have had some level of connection and understanding of one another. Zeke could see hope and strength in Michaela’s picture alone and found inspiration there. Michaela understood the urgency of Zeke’s “Find her” mantra that permeated her callings, so that she had already begun to rule out that the Calling meant to find the Major long before she realized the truth. Once they met it was like they immediately fell onto the same page. Michaela understood Zeke’s need for closure and redemption from the guilt he carried over his sister’s death, as she had with Evie’s. As their relationship grows so does their understanding of one another with Zeke gladly standing aside to allow Michaela to lead and do her thing, knowing there is no stopping her. And likewise Michaela begins allowing Zeke to follow her on missions, despite his not being a cop, simply because she knows there’s no stopping him from having her back.

On the flip side, Jared and Michaela have rarely been on the same page. Partly this is because Jared does not understand the callings or the intensity they bring. However, he should know by now the good that comes with following the callings, and the bad when they don’t. Yet, he stubbornly resists Michaela’s attempts to follow the calls even though they firmly believe that doing so is the only way to save her life and the lives of the other passengers. Perhaps they understood one another before Michaela’s disappearance, but from the moment Michaela returned, her and Jared’s moments of understanding are quite rare.

9. They Support Each Other

“Where you lead, I will follow.” This is the phrase Zeke tells Michaela twice in season 3, and has demonstrated multiple times since they first met. If that’s not the pinnacle phrase of support I don’t know what is. Zeke understands his wife, but what’s more, he supports her in everything that she does. Even if he doesn’t fully agree, he gently voices his concerns, but still allows her to make her own choices without getting in the way. Michaela too supports Zeke. She went through with the wedding despite feeling that he should be trying to save his life instead, and swore in her wedding vows to support every decision in his life.

Jared however, has not only been very unsupportive of Michaela throughout the show, but has even actively worked against her, such as investigating Zeke despite her asking him not too, refusing to give her space when she requested it, refusing to help her with some of her callings. Jared has only supported her at select times, but it is not always a solid thing with him. Granted he is a cop and he must often feel as if she’s tying his hands behind his back, but again if he could understand her and understand that what she and the passengers are dealing with is wildly outside of the norm, then he could be more supportive.

8. They Make a Good Team

Two people who understand and support each other are bound to make a good team and Zekaela proves this 100%. Together they have been able to solve multiple callings, even after Zeke was unable to receive callings anymore. They compliment one another with Michaela often being the assertive and decisive one that gets shit done, and Zeke being the calm, reasoning voice like when he negotiated with Logan Strickland throughout the bank robbery. Both have compassion and empathy (though Zeke more so with his gift), but they use their own unique skills to work toward a common goal.

Jared and Michaela do work well together as A-type personality cops. They are assertive, decisive, goal-oriented, and when they have to make split-second decisions they usually work well together. But that’s where it stops. If Jared had been the one with Michaela in the bank the outcome would have been very different. They may have been able to take him down, but probably not peacefully, and probably without gaining access to the vault that provided a clue to 828′s death date. When their goals do not align, they’re ability to work as a team disintegrates.

7. They Make Each Other Smile

Both Michaela and Zeke have had it rough. Zeke especially had a hard life after he lost his sister. His father abandoned him, his mother gave up on him as he fell into alcohol and addiction, and all the while he carried a guilt and shame that ate away at his soul. He hated himself and he refused to allow himself any true joy. Michaela carried that same guilt and shame with her after having been in a drunken car accident that got her friend killed. There’s also the unspoken reality of what Michaela does for a living. She may love her job, and be good at it, but that does not make it easy. Which is why it is so refreshing to see Michaela and Zeke together because so often their domestic life is light-hearted, with gentle teasing and smiles and hugs. Michaela’s most genuine smiles are almost exclusively with Zeke and vice versa.

Jared has brought few smiles to Michaela since she’s been back. Their relationship has become too complicated and strained with the two often being at odds, having had an affair that Michaela regrets, and Jared not being able to understand what she’s dealing with. Their relationship just isn’t what it was.

6. They Trust One Another

The trust Zeke and Michaela have for one another was nearly instant. Michaela even gave Zeke her trust during their first mission to solve their calling, and asked for his trust in return, which he gave. They are honest with one another, and even when Zeke accidentally shot Mick her trust never wavered. It’s actually quite remarkable as both have every reason to doubt the other’s sanity, and both have trust issues yet they choose to trust each other entirely.

Jared and Michaela clearly don’t trust each other entirely. Michaela even thought Jared had legit joined the X’ers, and Jared doesn’t trust the Callings and by extension he doesn’t trust Michaela. Trust is actually one of their biggest relationship flaws.

Hope you enjoyed my analysis. Part two will be up in the next day or two. Thank you for reading!

[siren-virus]

And now it's time for another round of questions :D Flee: There has been enough angst with all the implications of all the messed up things that happen in the burrows communities thus far, and as such in order to recover a little I'll make a question that goes more towards fluff now. Has there been any moment where our dear found family has been able to show off their teamwork with all their might and get a positive response from anyone witnessing them? Like, I know that they'll eventually make enough friends that such a thing will be common, but with a stranger? SWUP: Everyone's reactions on Derrick if possible please, because even though he might be careful enough to not be seen by anyone, I can already imagine James (Was he the one interested in aliens and all things related like a conspiracy theorist?) being between over the moon for another alien race that he can look from afar (I'd say study, but considering how dangerous Derrick is, it's better to not get too close), and Vicky stressing herself out into keeping him far from him when she isn't busy in a fight or, worse, fighting Derrick himself XD LuckyBen!AU: Would Ben (nekomata), Gwen, Kevin and/or Rook ever try ranching out in anything they do? Like, perhaps Ben has a youtube channel where he does tutorials into some exotic coffees (different from the ones he does in the coffee shop though (unless his boss watches his channel and chooses to make them too :V ) ), Gwen perhaps taking in an intern or 2 to teach them the ins and out of alien ambassy so she can have her workload loosened up a bit, Kevin pirating programs because, let's face it, he would totally do that if only to screw with the owners and probably steal some money from them in the progress, and Rook could write a humans guidebook, like the one used in the tag "Humans are Space Orcs" XD Gecko: Let's leave the characters for a bit and make an ask about the town itself, how is the situation in that place? I imagine that they have a very peculiar customs regarding their situation, as well as some... interesting idiosincrasies between the townspeople that I don't doubt would look very sketchy among the outsiders (I can think of an example from another show that isn't really exploited that much in fanfic but I don't wanna accidently drag you into another fandom XD) And that's all I got to say for today, let's see what you come up with for these asks now :3

OOp sorry about the delay

A lot of stuff happened- good stuff. Kept me off the computer for a bit

Anyways I'll be bouncing on again to answer your lovely questions!

FLEE: I would deffinitely say that Leo and Tristians protective elder brothers trope over Robin has been a thing. Robin may be a savage child but that won't stop the pair from using their own bodys as meat shields to protect her. It took Leo a while to get to that point.

As for the rest of the potential members, I haven't thought too much into it- I'll deff think about it now though.

With strangers, Tristians a lot more friendly, willing to help. It makes him very naive and suseptable to possible kidnappings/robberys.

But Leo is there to kick ass, and Robin is there to bit ankles.

SWUP: James is in LOVE with Derrick. An alien? a possible anti-hero!? Oh my god. He swoons. It's just like his one comic book about the anti-hero alien dude. James must know more. James must... Become his friend.

Derrick's a lil creeped out, but is happy to accept any and all compliments. The little narcisist he is.

James' Police dad (i forgot what i called him ;;; ). Has no clue of Derricks existence. Derrick is right under his nose like a bad smell. But he just can't find the source of the chaos. So naturally he'll blame it on SWUP.

Sara doesn't know whether to like him or not, he runs circles around poor SWUP, but does he mean any harm? He's never hurt SWUP... I mean he has, but SWUP recovers fast. And the way SWUP acts around Derrick makes Sara just... confused. She's neutral, so maybe he's ok?

Courtney despises Derrick. He commits crimes? Illegal, bad. How dare he. He must be arrested. Does he have a license for flying? No? Illegal. Must be arrested. He parks in a spot with paying for a ticket. Ooh. He must be jailed.

Charlie. Like James, loves Derrick. But to a lesser extent, James is Charlies numero uno!

And of course poor... poor Vicky has to do her best to keep everyone away from Derrick. Easier said than done.

LuckyBen!AU: Ben has no online persona. Too paranoid- if someone were to recognise him through the way he talks it's over.

Of course Gwen is happy to teach new recruits. She doesn't do it often cause she's required to be upfront on the battle field. She normally just volunteers in her free time.

Rook is the same, all work no play- except for the times he goes to see his family or grab a coffee.

Kevin would so do that. Loves his tech, loves his computers- a little bit of a nerd- but if it makes his tech work better, faster, stronger, he'll do it.

GECKO: The people are quite blissfully ignorant to the outside world. Their normal is our strange. Of course they don't see the odditys Mac has run into, unless they somehow do. Of course they're a secretive people, so you never know if they actually know.

They're also very friendly, offering newcomers (MAC) free snacks as he gets settled into the neighbour.

Unless you meet Hamish. One of Macs coworkers. Great guy, friendly, talks a lot. You think he's full of shit, like how continues to brag about his sexy hot beautiful girlfriend. But he's actually telling the truth.

He also talks about a lot of disappearences that happen to tourists/newcomers. He doesn't elaborate. He says it so easily it sounds like it's normal.

Does Hamish know more than what he lets on?

There's also Macs landlady. She's a little harsh- she lives on her own in the outskirts of the town. She knew Mac's mum as a kid. She mentioned at one point that there are more people that houses in this town. Of course Mac thought she meant there was a homeless problem. But as Mac grew to know the town better, there would be no homeless. The streets were empty after dark.

Most people discourage going out after dark.

There's something in the woods. Watching.

(DO TELL ME ABOUT THIS SHOW. PERHAPS IVE HEARD OF IT)

Again sorry for the delay, life is busy.

[fancycat-thesilvertux]

Obey Me AU Headcanons

Disclaimer because -

These are headcanons for my Obey Me AU!

————————————————————————

MC = Mercy Coopertink. Mercy prefers to go by “MC” rather than Mercy, however. When asked why, MC says it’s because “MC” is also short for “Master of Ceremonies”, which is a host of an event that introduces speakers, players, and entertainers.

MC is first introduced to the Devildom’s exchange program as preferring she/her pronouns, but some time later comes out as being gender-fluid. They typically go by they/them pronouns after coming out to everyone.

After MC reveals about their being gender-fluid, they find hand-made bracelets on their bed, the bracelets each having a set of pronouns so that when MC decides which specific pronouns they feel comfortable using that day, they can wear the bracelet or bracelets corresponding to that set of pronouns for others to know. MC’s pronouns are marked on the bracelets as 🌙she•her🌙, ☀️he•him☀️, ⭐️they•them⭐️, 🌙✨she•they🌙✨, ☀️✨he•they☀️✨.

Though none of the brothers own up to having been the ones to make the bracelets, Mammon knows they were made by Satan as he recognized a certain pattern of the beads that don’t hold letters. He recognized the pattern of the beads because he still has a hand-made bracelet Satan gave to him when the Avatar of Wrath was still a young child under his care. Mammon kept it secret though, respecting Satan’s wish to remain anonymous.

MC’s maternal aunt, Faith Gardner, is MC’s legal guardian. When MC was a child, their mother died in a car accident, and because their father wasn’t in the picture as he had left when finding out that his then-at-the-time girlfriend was pregnant, and there wasn’t any other family capable, this left Faith to take MC in.

MC and Faith’s son, Zen, see one another as siblings. Zen is nine to MC’s fifteen.

Coopertink is Faith’s maiden name, her married name being Gardner.

Faith’s husband died some months into her being pregnant with Zen. He died being a hero in stopping a bank robbery.

Faith had been approached by MC’s school regarding the Devildom’s exchange program and MC being the student to go. Faith accepted as MC’s legal guardian to send MC to the Devildom, thinking the experience would be good for MC.

MC has dragged Mammon into several of MC’s family video-chats that he’s familiar with Faith and Zen.

Faith works as a counselor assisting others with managing their addictions. She and Mammon regularly video-chat regarding his kleptomania and addiction to gambling.

MC once openly admitted that if Mammon wasn’t in Faith’s will as of yet, they would genuinely be surprised.

Mammon takes prescribed antidepressants to help with his kleptomania. His psychiatrist was someone he sought out to help him on Faith’s recommendation as she wasn’t a resident of the Devildom and even if she was, she wasn’t a psychiatrist, so she couldn’t prescribe him medication.

Mammon’s brothers don’t know about his receiving therapy. The only people outside of MC and their aunt that knows are Simeon, Luke, and Solomon. The three found out when they were hanging out, Luke had taken notice of the pill bottle Mammon accidentally dropped that had been in his jacket pocket and snatched it up before Mammon could grab it and make an excuse. Luke had thought Mammon had been doing drugs and showed it to Simeon and Solomon, worried because Mammon was the exception to Luke when it came to demons. Simeon and Solomon recognized the label and had confronted Mammon as to why he was taking antidepressants, and the three learned the story from him. They swore their secrecy on the matter, knowing Mammon was afraid of his brothers finding out and what their reaction might be.

After finding out about Mammon’s receiving therapy, Simeon had asked MC about their aunt, expressing curiosity if MC could get into contact with Faith to see if she could talk to Luke in regards to the prejudice he was raised on regarding demons. While Luke was making strides from where he originally had been when they came to the Devildom, Simeon felt talking with a professional over the matter might be a better help. MC got into contact with Faith regarding that, and Faith had talked with Simeon and Luke over video-chat in setting up video-chat sessions.

When Diavolo commented about Luke’s changed behavior, pleased as to how he seemed to be behaving better around demons, Simeon had to confess Luke had been seeing a counselor. When Diavolo asked about who that was, Simeon admitted he had asked MC when hearing that their aunt was a licensed counselor.

Diavolo and Barbatos - who’d been there when Simeon visited the castle to talk about Luke’s improved behavior - only know about Faith having video-chat sessions with the angel exchange students, they don’t know about Mammon.

[razieltwelve]

The Sound of Thunder (Spoilers)

This post contains spoilers for the future direction of The Sound of Thunder. If you do not want to read spoilers, stop here.

The Sound of Thunder is basically inspired by Silence of the Lambs with Lightning playing the role of Hannibal Lecter and Fang stepping into the shoes of Agent Clarice Starling. 

The story opens with Fang be sent to interview Lightning in a secure facility. Amodar wants to get her insight into a case since someone has begun to commit murders that are eerily similar to those committed by Lightning. The critical difference is that while Lightning killed sister, she often focused her ire on the younger sister whereas the present murders seem to show greater anger toward the older sister.

Lightning’s sister, Serah, is currently in protective custody, her whereabouts unknown.

After a brief conversation, Lightning taunts Fang but takes an interests in her, revealing the differences between her murders and the present murders.

That’s where the first chapter finishes.

The basic idea of the story is fairly simple. Fang is going to try to put together the clues to identify the murderer while bodies continue to pile up. 

Things get increasingly tense when Yuna and Rikku are abducted. Yuna’s father is a powerful politician, and he demands that something be done. What disturbs Amodar and Fang is that the two aren’t actually sisters. However, when asked about this, Lightning tells Fang that it isn’t necessarily the blood relationship that matters, so much as the bond between the two. After all, she didn’t just target any old pair of sisters. Lightning always went after the sisters that were the closest.

It is during this time that Serah Farron apparently disappears from police custody. After consulting with the witness protection program, Fang discovers that the murders have occurred in areas not far from Serah. She believes that Lightning’s ‘admirer’ is trying to finish what Lightning started by killing Serah.

Lightning just laughs when she’s told this, telling Fang that her ‘admirer’ would never be so crass as to take what’s hers, not if they know what’s good for them. Fang points out that Lightning is stuck behind bars, but Lightning merely smiles and tells Fang that she’ll be out soon enough.

Fang begins to believe that Lightning knows exactly who the killer is. This belief is further bolstered when forensic analysis shows that the weapon and style used to kill the latest victims is archetypical of the veterans from Lightning’s old unit in the military. Many of them simply vanished off the face of the earth after the war, and still others were lost in the conflict but never confirmed dead.

With the days passing and Braska (Yuna’s father) growing more desperate, he decides to use his political clout to force a meeting with Lightning. Lightning was a former soldier, someone who loved the outdoors and a good bit of exercise. These days, she’s cooped up in one of the most secure cells in the world.

His offer is simple. If she can give information that allows them to save his daughter and Rikku, he will have her transferred to a new cell on a deserted island. She will still be confined, and the island itself is so isolated that escape would be meaningless, but she will get more time outdoors, and a cell that allows her to do some indoor exercise.

Amodar urges Braska to reconsider, but Braska is adamant. It is at this point that Fang’s sister, Vanille, disappears. Fang is horrified, especially when a cryptic message left at the scene suggests that the one responsible is indeed the killer. She seeks out Lightning’s advice, only to find that Lightning has already been transferred as is being held in another secure location.

Dr Jihl Nabaat tells Fang that she should hurry. As Lightning’s former warden, she protested the move, but was overruled. She doesn’t think that Lightning’s new minders will be able to hold her. They don’t know what they’re dealing with.

Fang hurries to the location where Lightning is being held.

Meanwhile, Lightning is being wonderfully civil. She has passed on information to Amodar indicating that the killer is a former colleague, someone who grew up in a broken home, someone who grew to blame someone in his life that he viewed as something between a sister and a lover for his ills. During their time on the front, they came to understand one another and she learned that he planned to enact his own bloody vengeance on the world.

His name? Caius Ballad.

During a seemingly uneventful dinner, Lightning begins her escape. Faking a seizure, she lures the inexperienced guards close enough for her to kill them and take the keys. She then takes their weapons and sounds the alarm. As the backup team rushes to her ‘cell’, Lightning begins to systematically hunt them down, wiping out the entire team. She does this by wounding some of the members to lure out the others and erode team discipline while using the bodies of the guards she killed as props to draw attention at critical moments.

Rather than attempt to escape through the front door, Lightning instead takes advantage of the building’s geography to escape first to the roof and then over to a nearby building where she kills someone else, takes their clothes, and disguises herself using a hat to hide her hair. She even changes her gait and simply walks out of the building as reinforcements rush into the original building.

Fang arrives on the scene shortly after, and Lightning actually stays to watch her. When Fang somehow manages to trace Lightning’s steps via intuition and cunning, Lightning ambushes her. Rather than killing her, Lightning knocks her unconscious, but not before leaving her with a few clues.

When Fang regains consciousness, she tells Amodar what she has learned, and she finds out that Caius Ballad isn’t really the one responsible. Instead, when they track him down, they find out that he’s been dead for years. In fact, it looks a lot like Lightning killed him herself. The isolated cabin he was in was also rigged with a trap that killed most of the team sent to apprehend him.

Following Lightning’s tip to investigate the ‘chains of the past’, Fang delves into Lightning’s history. She discovers evidence that after Lightning’s parents died, she and Serah became abnormally close. At this time, they were badly let down by the system. They lost their house. They had to resort to begging to survive, and Lightning ended up joining a gang to make ends meet. It was during this period that Lightning’s kills were believed to have begun. This relationship only deepened until Serah met Snow Villiers. This enraged Lightning who saw it as a betrayal.

Lightning went to war only to return and find that Serah and Snow were going to get married. It was around that time that Lightning’s killings began to ramp up. Fang believes that Lightning saw Serah marrying Snow as the last piece of her family abandoning her and leaving her all alone. It was notable that in the car accident in which Lightning’s parents died, Lightning never lost consciousness whereas Serah did. Lightning spent three days in that ravine trapped next to the dead bodies of her parents trying to get out of the wreck and save her sister. The other driver would escape charges due to political connections but would later be killed during a robbery gone wrong.

Snow would later be killed in a car accident, but the more Fang investigated the matter, the more certain she grew that it wasn’t an accident at all. That was when Lightning��s killings took on an even more gruesome style, culminating in the hideously awful murder scene where Lightning forgot to cover her tracks. Some of her hair was found on the scene, along with fingerprints. This was how Lightning was caught.

But something about the old case files bothers her. Looking more closely at the wounds on that last, pivotal set of murders, Fang notices that the older sister was actually harmed more than the younger one - something closer to the current murders. Moreover, the knife work isn’t quite as expert as in Lightning’s older murders.

She doesn’t know quite what to make of it, but as she delves into the archives containing Lightning’s old records, she finds a note about a location very dear to Lightning: an old beach house in Bodhum. It was never hers, but her family used to walk past it every day. Fang has a hunch, and she follows it to the beach house.

There, she discovers that although it should be abandoned, there are signs that it has been lived in recently. Preparing herself, she makes her way inside. She finds Yuna and Rikku huddled together in a dark pit. She tries to call it in, but there is a jamming device in place. She is about to leave and call for reinforcements when she spots a familiar bit of clothing nearby. It belongs to Vanille.

Fang can’t bear to leave. She presses onward and finds Vanille unconscious and strapped to a chair. However, before she can leave, she is ambushed and knocked unconscious herself. When she wakes up, she finds herself staring into the face of Serah Farron.

Suddenly, it all clicks in Fang’s mind.

Lightning was never the sole killer. She and Serah had been killing people together, right from the start, most likely beginning with the driver who crashed into their car and killed their parents. The reason they’ve been killing sisters is because they don’t very highly of them. They see them as not being close enough, of not caring about each other the way Serah and Lightning do. In fact, Fang remembers that as close as the murdered sisters generally were, there were always rumours of friction and occasional arguments - imperfections in Lightning and Serah’s eyes. After all, alone and with none one else to turn to, Lightning and Serah always had each other. How could they respect people who couldn’t even manage that?

When Fang tells Serah this, the other woman is impressed.

Fang also explains her suspicions about what happened later. Snow’s accident wasn’t an accident. Lightning sabotaged his car. Serah says that is exactly what happened, and she framed Lightning for the last murder to get her arrested and killed. However, Lightning surrendered and avoided being killed, and she was then put out of Serah’s reach for revenge since she genuinely loved Snow.

Her plan was to then commit more murders knowing that Lightning would be drawn out. This succeeded, and she went after Vanille to get to Fang since she thought Lightning found Fang intriguing, and Lightning hates it when people mess with her stuff.

Sure enough, Serah is still talking when Lightning arrives.

The two sister square off. In the midst of their battle, Fang manages to free herself and Vanille, and they run for it, saving Yuna and Rikku along the way. The beach house is destroyed in an explosion when Serah, who starts losing, detonates a trap she’d set beforehand.

This spells the end of the two sisters.

Or so Fang thought.

A few months later, having received a commendation for her efforts, Fang gets a letter. It’s from Lightning. She thanks Fang for a most interesting adventure, especially the chance to reunite with her sister. Fang doesn’t have to worry. Lightning has other scores to settle and other people to kill, and she wants to see how far Fang can go.

A few days later another letter arrives.

It’s from Serah. In her words, she tells Fang that the world failed her and Lightning. They spent years afraid, wondering what new horror the next day would bring in. She talks about how often Lightning came back home bruised and beaten from her work with the gang, and how often Serah had to steal and lie to get essentials. She tells Fang that she and Lightning are going to settle their score one day. She hasn’t forgiven Lightning for Snow, and she probably never will, but she has other people to go after first.

A few days later, two sets of murders begin. They’re no longer targeting sisters, but Fang knows who is responsible. She joins the special team Amodar is putting together to catch the two sisters.

X     X     X

Author’s Notes

So, yeah, there is an unedited stream of consciousness of the ideas I had regarding where the story would go. Obviously, it’s very rough, but this was the ‘skeleton’ of what I thought might happen. Had I written it in full, I would have fleshed it out and tinkered with it a lot.

[freudensteins-monster]

You Say “Mad Scientist” Like It’s A Bad Thing

Based on my own tumblr post: 3am thoughts… Has anyone written Jane Foster as a mad scientist, I mean like a villain?

Chaotic neutral Darcy and Jane featuring modern/human SHIELD Agent Bucky.

Available on AO3.

Content Warnings: Implied/Referenced Torture, Aftermath of Torture, Amnesia, Memory Suppressing Machine | The Chair (Marvel), Dark, Sort Of, Ambiguous/Open Ending...

In a world full of megalomaniacs, straight up supervillains, and fricking aliens, mad scientists were a dime a dozen. Dr Foster was one such scientist who was quickly moving from mildly irritating to SHIELD’s Most Wanted.

Dr Foster’s gimmick was portals. She first gained international attention when she claimed responsibility (via an untraceable Instagram account, @dr-mthrfckng-foster) for diverting LA’s 405 to a dirt road in rural Australia. Then came a string of impossible robberies – bank vaults and the private collections of the world's richest assholes stripped bare in seconds. Then she created a portal that caused an Indonesian typhoon to bear down on Wall Street, flooding the trading floor. And then she robbed a top secret government black site of some classified technology.

And that’s when Director Nick Fury made finding and stopping Dr Foster SHIELD’s number one priority.

Agent James Barnes had been stuck on suspension for two weeks, with two more to go, and was itching to get back into the field. He had way too much free time on his hands: he’d caught up on his sleep and everything in his Netflix queue. He’d cleaned out his refrigerator, done laundry and enough meal prep to last him until next month. He’d caught up with his family, cleaned his whole goddamn apartment twice, and now he was well and truly bored.

He was out for his fifth run of the week (and it wasn’t even Wednesday) when his work phone rang.

“Thank Christ,” he muttered before answering.

“Barnes.”

“It’s Hill. How’s the arm?”

“Fine,” Barnes grunted, rotating his metal shoulder irritably. “You got something for me?”

“Are you up for a recon mission?”

Usually he would have protested. He headed tactical units. He was an elite ‘first through the door’ kind of field agent. Not that he couldn’t be stealthy and patient - he’d been a sniper in the army for christ's sake - but going unnoticed in public was kind of a problem for him these days; he’d have to wear jackets and gloves in the middle of August to hide his prosthetic for starters.

On the other hand, his mother had been calling him every second day to feed him carb-heavy meals in exchange for help around the house, all while dropping not-so-subtle hints that he should start dating again. Requests for more grandchildren couldn’t be far behind.

“I’ll be there in thirty.”

Thirty-five minutes later Agent Barnes was back at his desk at SHIELD HQ perusing through the increasingly large file of one Dr Jane Foster. 

She had been a brilliant student and had earned a PhD in Astrophysics from Culver University by the age of 25. By all accounts she should have been one of the leading researchers in her field, and if doctoral programs handed out superlatives Dr Foster’s would have been “Most Likely To Win a Nobel Prize By 30”. 

Unfortunately for Dr Foster, and the rest of the world, she had been forced from that path by a sexist tenured professor who publicly denounced her theories, and the woman herself, as crazy, discredited her published work, and used his influence to ensure she was denied all of the more lucrative research grants.

When federal agents went to interview him after the 405 incident they found his office looking like a tornado had gone through it and the professor himself was nowhere to be found. A few weeks later he stumbled into a US Embassy in Russia after being found wandering in from the forests outside Vladivostok, half mad and still decrying the evils of allowing women into scientific fields.

He had been placed into witness protection and promptly admitted into a psychiatric facility under his new name, and was being monitored by several undercover agents in case Dr Foster felt like punishing him some more. 

Anyone else who had a part in ruining Dr Foster’s legitimate career was also under surveillance, as was her mother in London, a terrified ex-boyfriend in Boston, and a handful of known associates, though Dr Foster hadn’t been in contact with any of them in years.

SHIELD and other federal agencies had tried the usual methods of tracking down a rogue mad scientist. They tried to find out where her base of operations was, firstly by looking for any properties in her name, but Dr Foster had been a broke student with an impressive amount of debt (until the day she decided to wipe it, and the rest of Culver’s student debt, out). So if she had property it would definitely not be in her legal name and all but impossible to trace back to her. Then they tried to look for drains on the powergrid. However she managed to generate her portals - SHIELD scientists still hadn’t figured that out - it surely had to be using huge amounts of electricity. So far they’d found six grow labs and two server rooms running illegal god-knows-what, but no Dr Foster.

Agent Barnes read the file twice, reviewed all the transcripts of the interviews with her known associates, and came to one very important conclusion: she had an accomplice. 

As smart as Dr Foster was there was nothing in her academic history to suggest that she had a background in computer science that would account for the notable hacks and the untraceable nature of her activities. To add to that several interviewees had made passing remarks about her not having a cell phone for most of her academic career, and how she had zero interest in social media.

Two days later, after getting the okay for a field trip from Hill, Agent Barnes made his way to Culver University to speak to anyone who had even the vaguest recollection of Dr Foster. And that’s how he learnt about the intern.

He’d started by dropping by one of the physics labs where Dr Foster had spent most of her time, and by pure chance met a doctoral candidate who remembered her, and her intern.

“I think her name was Darlene. Glasses. Always on her phone.”

…which led him to the academic advisor who put the two of them together...

“Darcy. Darcy Lewis. She was actually a PoliSci major but left it too late and Dr Foster’s internship was the only one available. She had only been working with her for a few weeks before… before Dr Foster’s funding was revoked and she was asked to leave.”

...who pointed him to one of Darcy’s former professors…

“Average student. Good debater. Often late, and always had a coffee in her hand.”

...who gave him a few names of some former classmates who might remember her…

“Not the worst person to be stuck with on a group assignment. Pulled her weight. Obsessed with her stupid iPod.”

“I swear she lived off pop tarts and coffee. And not Starbucks either. Some stupid hipster chain.”

“Deja Brew. Serious problem. Went through one of those loyalty punch cards every week. Always complained about having to go home for the holidays and resort to big chain coffee shops.”

...which had him driving out to Darcy Lewis’ hometown, located a few hours south of Roanoke, Virginia, stopping first at the local high school to speak to the school principal…

“She’d always been good with computers but wasn’t allowed to use them at home for some reason so she spent a lot of time at the local library using theirs. We had to suspend her once. One of her classmates accused her of accepting payment from other students to hack the school’s records and alter their grades. Their grades were definitely getting altered, but we couldn’t get any concrete proof it was her.”

...who was able to find a photo of 16 year old Darcy in an old yearbook and told him what bar he could find Darcy’s mother in.

“She knows not to come to me if she’s in the shit, because I would call the cops in a heartbeat. Especially after that stunt she pulled before she went off to college…”

“What stunt was that, Ms Bennett?” Agent Barnes asked patiently, hoping he wouldn’t have to enable her alcoholism to get some useful information. 

“I made some mistakes, okay,” she slurred defensively. “I was having an affair with my boss. Don’t know how Darcy knew. She told her stepfather but he didn’t believe her. Then a few weeks later we went out to dinner for my boss’s birthday... all the tv’s in the bar start showing security camera footage of us falling into offices and motel rooms. Took her all of a minute to ruin two marriages and a law firm.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he replied diplomatically. “Is there anyone she could turn to for help? Her father, perhaps.”

“He died when she was about twelve. They were as thick as thieves,” she recalled with a tinge of bitterness.

“Was there any place that was special to them? Someone she might go to ground?”

She shook her head. “He used to rent this old cabin near the Catskills off a buddy of his every other year. Winter or summer, Darcy loved it. But it's long gone. Forest fire, I think, the year before his accident.”

Back in his car Agent Barnes reviewed the data points.

Dr Foster had a base of operations somewhere. Had to be private, and as best SHIELD could guess it must be off the grid and Dr Foster must be generating her own power.

Dr Foster was a space nut at heart, and while an abandoned observatory might be too much to ask for, she’d probably want somewhere with minimal light pollution.

And while they could portal anywhere, neither of them spoke any other languages and had no familiarity with any international locations, so they were most likely still State-side. (Dr Foster’s mother had moved to London when Jane was twenty-three, but she’d never found the time to visit.)

Miss Lewis was familiar with the Catskills area. A base of operations there could be very isolated.

Dr Foster was most likely building and modifying her own own equipment so she had to be able to access materials. Sure, she could portal to her local hardware store, but having Darcy drive into the nearest town for supplies would attract less attention.

Miss Lewis had an addiction to coffee procured from Deja Brew, a small hipster chain with only a handful of locations along on the east coast. While she could have found another way to get her caffeine fix, people were creatures of habit.

Miss Lewis was also known for stocking up on poptarts. In one of the only images of the other side of one of Dr Foster’s portals there was what appeared to be, if one squinted, a box of limited edition pop tarts on a counter.

He plugged it all into SHIELD fancy search engines and got a few results back. The most promising was an abandoned ski chalet turned abandoned research station halfway up a mountain, an hour drive away from an up and coming tourist town, whose main street hosted a Deja Brew cafe. They also had a small mom and pop hardware store, as well as a post office, and a grocery store that had still been selling pumpkin pie pop tarts around the time Dr Foster’s portal had been caught on camera.

Agent Barnes came to with a groan. The flesh of his shoulder where it met his prosthetic felt like it was on fire, and he was pretty sure he could smell fried wiring.

The research station had come up in SHIELD’s initial search for a potential mad scientist's lair, but had been dismissed for not using any power and for not sending back any heat signature readings. Perhaps they’d found a way to fool the scanners. Or maybe they just weren’t in the day the readings were taken. Whatever the reason, Agent Barnes had a good feeling about it. He filled his tank up at the nearest gas station and got on the highway, forgoing checking in at the Triskelion on his way past in favour of driving all night. He’d call Hill when he had something solid. 

** *** **

“Fuck…”

He willed his eyes open and came face to face with Darth Vader.

Barnes reeled back at the sound of the synthesized voice. “Who sent you? Who do you work for?! The Rebellion?” 

“What the fuck!”

It took him until his eyes adjusted to the fluorescent lighting to realise that Darth Vader was wearing a grey knit dress and black tights. Darth Vader laughed and ripped off his mask to reveal a smiling bespectacled brunette underneath. The accomplice. Darcy Lewis.

“Sorry, I was just messing with you, dude,” she teased, tossing the mask over her shoulder. “I’ve always wanted to do that. But seriously, who do you work for? Who knows you’re here?”

“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” he lied. “I was just camping in the woods, man. I saw the lights and decided to check it out,” he rambled in a lazy Canadian accent. “How the hell did I get here? Did you electrocute me?”

He used his not-quite fake panic to test the limits of his restraints. He’d been strapped into some sort of junkstore barber chair, with thick metal shackles locked around his wrists, ankles, and chest. His metal arm could probably make quick work of them but the damn thing was not responding. His panic became a little less fake.

“Just camping, huh?” she echoed back with a raised eyebrow, leaning forward to the point where Barnes couldn’t avoid getting a good look down her top and the 15-carat pink diamond (worth about 40mil and reported stolen in one of Dr Foster’s vault heists two months ago) hanging around her neck. “So that wasn’t you poking around town this morning?” she asked pointedly, drawing his attention to the wall of monitors he hadn’t noticed showing various street cameras around the town. “I’ve got eyes and ears everywhere, dude. You got into town bright and early in a beat up looking truck with plates that didn’t exist two weeks ago and started flashing my yearbook photo around. So, who do you work for?”

He levelled his best steely-eyed agent stare at her and switched back to his native pissed-off Brooklynite accent. “I ain’t tellin you shit, sweetheart.”

“C’mon now,” she cooed, taking a seat on his lap. “Who do you work for? FBI? Interpol? SHIELD? Crawford County Library Services? Listen, I was totally going to return Eat Pray Love, but we had to skip town in a hurry and it got lost in the move. I will totally pay to replace it.”

Years of training (and regular poker games with the Black Widow) had taught him to school his features, even if that last one threw him for a loop.

“Nothing? You sure you don’t want to talk to me? Fine,” she whined. “Jane!”

It was only then that Barnes switched his focus from his captor to his surroundings and realised that there was another occupant puttering about on the other side of the large telescope that took pride of place on a hydraulic platform underneath the research station's retractable roof. The infamous Dr Foster.

“Jane!”

“What?” came the irritated reply. 

“Come over here and practise your monologue. Look! You’ve got a captive audience and everything!” she announced, laughing at her own joke. 

“I don’t have time, Darcy,” the disgruntled voice argued. 

“Hey! I spent two days writing up that monologue, the least you can do is spend twenty-five minutes reading it out loud so I can make sure it doesn’t make you sound too much like a cartoon villain.” 

“Twenty-five minutes?! Are you kidding me?” Dr Foster stormed out from behind the telescope to wave a wrench at her assistant. She looked less put together than her ID photo, appearing to be long overdue for both a shower and a nap. “I’m in the middle of something. I’ve almost figured the problem with the mobile portal generator, and… Darcy, why is there a man tied to a chair in my lab?”

“This man?” Darcy snorted, taking Barnes’s chin in her hands and wiggling it about. “This is the intruder. You remember the intruder alert, like fifteen minutes ago? Lots of flashing lights and alarms? Well, I found this guy passed out on the lawn. For most people, hitting my force field would be like getting lightly tased, but this bad boy,” she continued, tapping a fingernail against his dead metal arm, “meant you ended up getting the full 50,000 volts to your heart. Thanks for letting me practice my CPR by the way,” she added with a wink.

“It’s not a force field, Darcy. It’s a glorified invisible pet fence, upsized and modified so it reacts to the electrical impulses in the human body.”

“It keeps people out; I’m calling it a force field.”

This was definitely the weirdest interrogation he had endured by a large margin, Barnes mused as he followed their bickering like a pingpong game.

“Who is he, Darcy?” Jane sighed wearily. “What is he doing here?”

“Fiiiine. Janey, meet Agent James Barnes of SHIELD.”

“What?! SHIELD?!!”Jane screeched. “Why did you bring him here?”

“He found us, Jane. What was I supposed to do?”

“Something other than bringing him inside our secret hideout.”

“I am not killing him and burying him in the woods; I just did my nails.”

Jane scowled, turning the full force of her overtired fury on James. “Why can’t you SHIELD issue jackbooted thugs just leave me alone? Can’t you understand how important my work is? I am challenging the very foundations of modern science - of the laws of the universe! I am on the verge of a breakthrough! And if you or Nick Fury think you can stop me, you’ve got another thing coming!”

Before his mouth could betray him and ask how the hell they knew his boss Darcy spoke up.

“A little off script, but I like the energy, Jane. Very much the mad scientist vibe we’re going for. But next time, try not to make it so personal – we’ve got to hide the target of our frustrations, remember? Instead of saying “SHIELD” say “government”, instead of saying “Nick Fury” say “president”.”

“Right, right,” Jane nodded absently, tapping the side of her head with the wrench she had just been waving around like a weapon.

“Now, go back to work. I’ll handle this.”

“Okay, thanks Darce. Oh, have you seen my soldering iron around?”

“It’s in the locked cabinet because you’re not allowed to use it unsupervised, you know that. Gimme ten minutes, I’ll bring it to you.”

Jane wandered back to her side of the observatory, muttering under her breath, leaving Barnes at Darcy’s mercy.

“She’s not the criminal mastermind here, is she?” he wondered, his eyes roaming over the strange cupcake of a woman in his lap.

“Not exactly,” Darcy admitted. “I mean, it’s not like she set out to be a mad scientist. I kind of rebranded her after that little freeway incident.”

“Rebranded?”

“Yeah. She was in a bad way after New Mexico and then when the first live test of her portal engine went a little sideways I didn’t want dudebros on the internet coming after her, so I changed the narrative. Instead of ‘girl scientist makes mistake, should stick to making sandwiches’ I changed it to ‘Dr Foster, genius astrophysicist, causes chaos, totally on purpose.’”

“And all those robberies?”

“I may have encouraged that. I’m all for sticking it to the one percenters, and Jane needed to fund her experiments somehow,” she added with a shrug.

“So Jane’s the absent-minded professor and you’re the brains behind this operation, huh?”

Darcy laughed and slid out of his lap causing a distracting amount of friction. “I’m really not. So you, Coulson, and Fury should be really, really scared.”

“How do you know those names?” he had to know, cover be damned.

“You don’t know? Of course you don’t,” she huffed. “Fury and his clearance levels. I’d tell you to ask him about New Mexico sometime, but you’re not going to be able to.”

“Why not? What are you going to do to me?” Barnes fretted, unable to ignore the sinking feeling that he was in big trouble; she wouldn’t have told him anything if she intended on letting him walk out of here.

“Oh, relax. I’m not going to kill you. I’m just gonna scramble your brain a little.”

She circled his chair, flipping switches as she went, and something behind him started humming ominously.

“So, admittedly I didn’t major in hard sciences. I had an ex who did, but he also fancied himself something of a cat burglar, so when he went to jail I liberated all his college textbooks and gave myself a crash course in electrical engineering. And it helped that those HYDRA designs were really easy to follow.”

“HYDRA?” Barnes cursed.

HYDRA had been the scientific branch of the Nazi regime and believed that discovery required (human) experimentation. They were supposedly eradicated at the end of WWII but Project Paperclip saved some of HYDRA’s greatest minds, giving them immunity in exchange for their genius. If Foster or, more worryingly, Darcy had aligned themselves with some surviving HYDRA faction the results could be catastrophic.

“Yeah, I found them in that SHIELD warehouse when we recovered Jane’s stolen research.”

“What are you talking about?”

“They just call it ‘The Chair’, which is totally not creepy at all,” she continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “And this is the Halo,” she added, drawing Barnes’s attention to the whirring circle of metal that was lowering itself over his head.

“What the hell are you doing?” he shouted, renewing his efforts to break free of his restraints. “Get that piece of scrap metal the fuck away from me!”

“Hey! Don’t mock my work. It may look like I raided a junkyard for the components - and I did - but my welding game is on point. It’s totally safe. Mostly safe. It’s just going to send focused electrical pulses to your…” she paused to consult some smudged writing on her hand, “hippocampus and prefrontal cortex.”

The Halo stopped moving and two metal plates extended, pressing against the sides of his head, holding it like a vice.

“Please… don’t do this,” he begged as she approached him with a rubber mouthguard.

“C’mon, open wide. You don’t want to end up braindead and unable to chew your food,” she jested, waving the thing in front of him. “Oh, just one question before I fry your brain,” she added just when he was about to give in. “How did you find us? I was so careful,” she whined.

Agent Barnes, terrified as he was, still managed to look smug at his small, short lived success. “Deja Brew coffee.”

“Curses!” she wailed theatrically. “Betrayed by my one true love!” 

Darcy huffed and quickly returned her attention to the matter at hand. 

“Thanks for that,” she said with a smile as she forced him to bite down on the mouthguard. “I’ll know better for next time. Start making my own coffee at home… but it never tastes as good,” she muttered to herself.

She stepped away from him and bent down to pick up a similarly frankensteined industrial remote with long wires snaking back to the chair and a clichéd big red button at its centre. He began struggling anew, screaming around the foul tasting rubber, begging for mercy.

She took great delight in his terrified expression and put on her best supervillain voice, “Give my regards to Nick Fury.”

Nick Fury observed his agent from behind a two way mirror as he sat behind a table in an interrogation room. Barnes had been sitting there for the past hour as still as a statue, except for his unfocused eyes which flitted about the room. 

In true horror movie fashion, Agent Barnes’ screams echoed down the mountainside like an avalanche, sending animals fleeing in terror for miles around.

** *** **

Local LEO’s had found him wandering aimlessly down a stretch of highway just outside the ruins of what had previously been Puente Antiguo, New Mexico, and ten minutes after they ran his prints Agent Romanoff had been on a quinjet to collect him. She’d been directed to the nearest hospital and found him sitting up on a bed but not responding or reacting to any of the medical staff as they buzzed around him. Agent Romanoff took a cautious step forward and held her breath as his unfocused eyes settled on her. 

“Hello James...”

An excruciating minute later the veil lifted and he attempted a smile. 

“Hey Tasha.”

She’d brought him back to base and dragged him to SHIELD’s medical bay for more tests - not that Barnes put up much of a fight, in fact he was terrifyingly compliant. The SHIELD doctors confirmed what the New Mexico doctors suspected: the bruising and electrical burns around his temples and his memory loss were indicative of some back alley version of electroshock therapy. His memories should come back in time - how long was anybody’s guess - but for the moment Agent James Barnes had no memory of the last four weeks.

Fury picked up a tablet with depressingly little information on its screen and stepped into the room, waiting for Barnes eyes to focus on him before taking a seat. 

“Agent Barnes.”

“Director.”

“I know you’re probably sick of questions by now, but I have a few more for you, if that’s alright.”

“Yeah, sure…”

It rankled Fury to no end how meak and passive Barnes seemed. Heaven help him, he missed the argumentative sonofabitch.

“What’s the last thing you remember?”

“Being called into your office.”

“What for?”

“I punched Rumlow.”

“Why?”

“He was bragging about taking advantage of a drunk woman at a club when he was last on leave. He didn’t like me calling out his shitty behaviour. He punched me, I punched him back.”

Fury sighed. He hadn't gotten a straight answer out of Barnes at the time of the incident and he couldn’t feel happy about getting one now. 

“Do you remember what happened once I called you into my office?”

His brow creased and his eyes zipped back and forth like the carriage of a printer as his mind searched for the elusive memory.

“You suspended me?”

“I did,” Fury confirmed. “For a whole month. But two weeks into it I pulled you in for a special assignment.”

Barnes tensed, shrinking in on himself. The confusion about his lost time seemed to be the only thing that got under his skin, but only when someone brought it up. Once the moment passed he forgot to be concerned about it.

Fury took pity on him. “For the past two weeks I had you running down leads on the whereabouts of Dr Jane Foster.”

“The scientist with the portals? Did she do this to me?”

“It’s not exactly her MO, but then again no law enforcement agency’s ever managed to have a confrontation with her. Never had the chance. Those portals of hers let her keep at a distance. You might have been the first person to have a face to face with her, but I can’t confirm it because I don’t know where the hell you were when this happened,” he grumbled, letting a little more of his usual exasperated tone filter through. “You missed check in by two days. The last we heard from you, you were at Culver running down leads on what you said was a potential accomplice. We found your car in Tromso, Norway, a day after you were found on the side of a road in New Mexico. You don’t appear on any security footage or speed cameras in the area. There’s no activity on your work or personal credit cards. Your activity logs on our highly secure system for the last two weeks are nonexistent, as are your call logs on your work phone. Even the messages you sent Romanoff from your personal phone complaining about your assignment have since been deleted - from her phone too. She’s real pissed about it. As far as your digital footprint is concerned you disappeared from a gas station outside Roanoke, Virginia, last week - do you know how weird it is to know you were headed out towards a place called Roanoke only to up and vanish?” He sighed at Barnes’ painful silence. “Is there anything you can remember, anything at all about Dr Foster or her accomplice? Anything that will help us catch up to you without talking to everyone on campus to figure out what you discovered?”

Barnes’ brow creased in painful confusion.

“I think… I think I saw Darth Vadar.”

Director Fury blinked. “Right…” He took a deep breath to stop himself from venting his frustrations at Barnes, the sorry bastard looked like a kicked puppy as it was. Instead he got up and tapped the tablet against the metal tabletop harder than strictly necessary. “Well, I’ll just go put out a BOLO out for Darth Vadar then.”

“Okay,” Barnes murmured, and promptly zoned out again.

Agent Romanoff exited the viewing room looking uncharacteristically unsettled. 

“I want a full detail on him at all times,” Fury ordered as he stormed off towards the elevators. Hill had just stepped off and was looking even more grim than usual. “Until his memories come back he’s vulnerable, and once they do he’ll be a target.”

“I’ll get a STRIKE team on it. Not Rumlow’s.”

“Get another one along with any assets currently not on assignment. Flood that campus, interrogate everybody. I wanna know who the hell Dr Foster’s accomplice is, and I wanna know yesterday. Understood?”

“I think we might have more pressing concerns, sir,” Hill reported, tapping at her tablet as it beeped erratically. “Coulson’s said there’s an issue with the Tesseract. Dr. Selvig read an energy surge from it fifteen minutes ago.”

“NASA didn't authorise Selvig to test phase,” he grunted, taking the tablet from Hill.

“He wasn't testing it, he wasn't even in the room. Spontaneous advancement.”

“Motherfucker.”

[quazartranslates]

Welcome to the Nightmare Game II - CH12

**This is an edited machine translation. For more information, please [click here]**

[<<< Previous Chapter | Table of Contents | Next Chapter >>>]

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Chapter 12: Resurrection Overture (XII) {cw: brief suicide mention}

After this day's hellish diving training, Qi Leren, who was as heavy as lead, had no strength to climb aboard. He was floating on his back beneath the boat like a miserable little mermaid under the gaze of Chen Baiqi's disdain. Finally, Chen Baiqi dragged him back onto the boat.

On the way back, Qi Leren slept as if dead. When he was woken up by the coastal evening wind, Qi Leren suddenly sat up and the coat that had been covering him slipped down. It was Chen Baiqi’s.　

"What time is it?" Qi Leren asked in a hoarse voice. He remembered that it was about five o'clock when he’d come back, but after entering the border of Dusk where it was sunset all day, it was difficult to tell the time.　

"It's seven o'clock," Chen Baiqi said without looking back as she kneeled on the bow against the wind. "You can hurry home after you wake up, but don't expect me to carry you back."　

Qi Leren responded. After a short sleep, his spirit was much better and he could walk.　

The two people got off the boat together. Chen Baiqi put her hands in her pockets with a cigarette in her mouth and looked at the distant sunset with empty eyes, her expression unreadable.　

"Thank you," Qi Leren suddenly said.　

"Hmm?" Chen Baiqi was puzzled.　

When he first woke up, Qi Leren was slow to respond, but now he had recovered. How could it take two hours to sail from Undead Island to Sunset Island’s port? The ship had already landed, but Chen Baiqi hadn't woken him up after seeing that he was tired enough to sleep. She’d smoked on bow for two hours, waiting for him to wake up. In this world where time was life, she had expended two hours for a person who wasn’t even a formal disciple… No, it took far more time than two hours. This kindness was tantamount to a life-saving grace.　

"Nothing, just wanted to thank you." Qi Leren said sincerely, "For many things... I should thank you."　

The two of them having arrived at an intersection, Chen Baiqi was going back to her store to have dinner with her sister, and Qi Leren was going back to Dr. Lu where he was still spending the night.　

Chen Baiqi stopped and stamped out the cigarette butt: "It's no use thanking me. Come and show me your potential."　

"I’ll work hard."　

"I’ll watch it, too," Chen Baiqi said, then turned and left, waving goodbye at him over her back.　

Qi Leren stood in silence for a moment, looking at Chen Baiqi’s back. She really was a woman with many stories and many worries, but she refused to sell her own stories and was reluctant to share her past. She was tightly wrapped in secrets, and no one knew her age. Even the name Chen Baiqi didn’t seem to be her real name.　　

What had she done in the real world? What kind of experiences had she had in the Nightmare World? Why did she want to adopt a player's child and love her as a sister? How was her half-field broken? Qi Leren didn’t know any of this. His understanding of Chen Baiqi was limited to the words she had revealed—she had once worked in the Heresy Court of the Trials Court, was an assassin who mainly focused on intelligence and assassination, and had a summoning book that sealed many strange creatures, which were accumulated when she traveled in the Nightmare World.　　

He wondered if he could be as strong as Chen Baiqi once he had spent eight years in the Nightmare World. He should be able to, at least, as long as his luck didn’t stop him from reaching his eighth year. Qi Leren gave a wry smile in his heart, got rid of the idea, and set foot on his way home.　　

When he returned to Dr. Lu's clinic, Dr. Lu was treating a familiar young man and nagged, "Jumped from the third floor? I see you’re young, why do you want to die like this? Do you think you’re a superhero? Doesn’t it hurt to jump from the third floor in one breath? Sometimes people jump off buildings. If you can stop it, stop it. Otherwise, forget it. What kind of hero is that? Hey, you’re back? I'm starving for dinner right now."　　

The young man who was being treated by "Doctor’s Orders" also turned his head and leapt up from his chair in surprise: "Qianbei! Long time no see! How have you been recently? I thought about it, and the house should be returned to you. It was originally your house. I'll find another residence. I have a lot of time to live now!"　　

"It doesn't matter, I live here as well," Qi Leren said in a reserved way.　　

The last time when he signed the confidentiality agreement with Du Yue, he’d felt that he was very sorry for the other. How dare he take the house back?　　

Recently, he had had to buy an extra bed. Otherwise Dr. Lu, who was grudgingly made to sleep on the sofa, would have continued to look at him bitterly and even dare to be angry at this “evil guest” who had taken over his nest. 　　

Du Yue looked at Qi Leren, who refused to move back, as if he was wronged. He lowered his head like a big dog who had been reprimanded by his master. Dr. Lu looked at him pitifully and invited him to have dinner with them. Du Yue immediately perked up: "Good, good, I have no place to eat!"　　

So the meal became three people together. If Qi Leren's training ended early, he would come back to cook. If it ended late, Dr. Lu would do it. Dr. Lu's culinary skills were not bad. You could see it from how Du Yue ate three bowls in one go.　　

After dinner, Du Yue rushed to wash the dishes. Qi Leren and Dr. Lu had a brief exchange about today's events.　　

"Du Yue had come several times even before you came back. I'm telling you, he's a personal event trigger! Almost every time, it was a courageous injury. Walking on the road the day before yesterday, he witnessed a robbery. He went up and beat the robber who then stabbed him. Today, he met a pregnant woman who wanted to jump off a building. He saved her but fell off himself. Fortunately, only his arm was broken..." Dr. Lu gushed about Du Yue's glorious deeds, and he was very optimistic about this young man.　　

"Are you talking about me?" Du Yue came out of the kitchen after washing the dishes.　　

"Yes, talking about the series of accidents that you’ve encountered almost daily," Dr. Lu smiled.　　

Du Yue scratched his head and said with a silly smile: "It's okay… It’s not every day."　　

"Does it have to happen every day?" Qi Leren vomited a sentence.　　

"Is the pregnant woman you saved today okay?" Dr. Lu asked smoothly.　　

"Okay? Ah, Her friend persuaded her to go with her after a while and asked for my contact information, saying that she would like to thank me next time," Du Yue said.　　

"If you want an abortion, between the Village of Dusk’s medical facilities plus the monthly tasks, isn’t it only too easy?" Dr. Lu said.　　

"Yes, that's what I told them."　　

A young man who had just grown up and a young man who looked like he was underage talked seriously about the problem of pregnancy and childbirth. This picture was a bit funny. After listening for a while, Qi Leren suddenly remembered the laptop. He quickly got up and said, "You two take your time talking, I’m going to go for a walk."　　

After leaving Dr. Lu's clinic, Qi Leren followed the address that Chen Baiqi had given him before, and went to find the house of the tech savvy player who was still alive.　　

The place where the player lived wasn’t far from Dr. Lu's clinic. Qi Leren was still worried that he still hadn’t come back after leaving for his task. However, this time he was lucky. After ringing the doorbell, a mechanical voice that sounded like a young girl came from behind the door: "Master is busy. What can I do for you?"

"Hello, I was referred by Chen Baiqi. I need to make an electronic appliance please," Qi Leren said.　　

"Just a moment, please."

After a few minutes, the door opened and Qi Leren saw at a glance that the three foot tall robot on the ground looked like a moving trash can. It opened the shoe rack and found a pair of shoe covers for Qi Leren: "Please come with me."　　

It was indeed a high-tech house. Qi Leren sighed with emotion in his heart and followed the little robot all the way to the basement.　　

The basement was very big. After Qi Leren went in, he suddenly saw a screen on the wall facing him!　　

However, it wasn’t like the HD display screens common in the real world, it was like the oldest gray TV screens in an antique shop. There were constantly black and white pixels moving on this display screen, which was actually playing a simple shooting game like a computer in the 1980s!　　

As Qi Leren approached, the man who had his back to him as he watched the screen suddenly lost the game, one hand coming down on the table: "Shit, lost again!"　　

"Hello." Qi Leren made a noise.　　

The man's back froze and he turned slowly. He was a young man with glasses who looked a little dull: "...Oh, hello."　　

Qi Leren felt that he was more nervous than him. His voice was a little shaky and he stuttered a little, obviously the type that didn’t have contact with others often.　　

After Qi Leren stated his purpose, the techy suddenly got excited: "Did you bring your laptop into the game? Sell it to me, I’ll pay a high price!"　　

Qi Leren suddenly broke out in a cold sweat, not to mention that the laptop was still in Schrodinger's state, appearing and disappearing irregularly. Even if the laptop was in his item bar now, he couldn't give it to others. But if he refused this person's request, would he still help him make the charger or transformer? He had to find a suitable reason...　　

Qi Leren secretly gritted his teeth and made a decision.　　

"No, there’s very important information on it. I can't give it to anyone," Qi Leren resolutely said.　　

"I can print the information for you!" the techy said enthusiastically, without stuttering.　　

"This... is not that kind of information." Qi Leren looked embarrassed and his eyes wandered. "It's the kind of... hundreds of G, you know..."　　

The techy’s eyes grew brighter: "Dude! I haven't seen a movie in such a long time! Sell it to me! Lend it to me without selling it!"　　

Qi Leren coughed twice: "To tell you the truth, all I watched were pure men's shootouts..."　　

The techy was stunned for a moment, then resolutely insisted: "It's okay, anti-Japanese drama, gun battle film, American blockbuster, I watched all of these."　　

Qi Leren covered his forehead: "I'm talking about GV, GayVideo, a film made by a group of men, understand!"　　

"................I understand."　　

In order to keep the laptop far away, Qi Leren, who did not hesitate to destroy his image, showed a kind smile: "Do you want to see it? I have quite a few varieties there, from gangbang to S/M to people and animals-"　　

"No, I, I, I, I, I still like girls."　　

"Oh, that's a pity," Qi Leren said regretfully.　　

After he dispelled the techy’s idea of buying the laptop off him, Qi Leren quickly finalized this order with him: to make a mobile power supply that could be externally connected to a laptop, which was equivalent to a large charging battery—"When I go to a copy task without electricity, I also want to watch these films to reduce stress." Quote by a serious Qi Leren.　　

"By the way, make another transformer, because the voltage in the Village of Dusk is different from that in the real world—of course, you should watch movies to relax when you’re in the Village of Dusk." Quote by a still serious Qi Leren.　　

The techy wanted to warn him that "a little joy hurts his body". In particular, he looked at Qi Leren walking a little bit. He looked like he was worn out and exhausted. He was finally defeated by Qi Leren’s kind smile and closed his mouth silently.　　

Out of the techy’s house, Qi Leren gave a long sigh. Today, he once again made himself into a gay man with strange taste. He was still a wretched gay man who watched hardcore porn every day. It seemed that the path to building an upright image only grew longer.

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Editor’s Notes: Happy first day of pride month, everyone! 🌈

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[ibijau]

Sometimes, you just get a random idea for a thing that demands to be written, so... here’s a no-Sunshot-Campaign AU where the Wens are still the worst, but in a different way :)

warning for character death, implied sexual abuse, and some descriptions of a corpse

It's not the most interesting Night Hunt they've been on, but Nie Mingjue is always glad when Lan Xichen makes time to spend time with him. It was hard for a while to be around each other, but they're starting to move on at last. All they have to do is avoid one certain topic, and things are fine. 

And so they are walking together in that forest, keeping within reasonable distance of the road that traverses it. Nie Mingjue had heard reports of terrible monsters, but so far they've found nothing but a few fierces corpses. If he had known, Nie Mingjue would have brought juniors instead of bothering Lan Xichen with this. He did hesitate after all, unsure how his friend would feel about getting so close to Qishan Wen's territory. In the end, Lan Xichen seems fine. It's been over four years, after all. 

Still, as they get closer to the border, it's Nie Mingjue himself who gets uncomfortable. He's about to suggest they head back and let the Wens deal with whatever is on their side of the forest when they hear a desperate cry coming from further away. 

The voice, unmistakably, is that of a child. 

Without so much as sharing a glance, Nie Mingjue and Lan Xichen rush ahead, running among the trees until they find the source of that shout. 

There is, in fact, a child. A toddler really, clinging tightly to a teenager in clothes too light for the weather. The older boy has a sword in hand which he seems ill at ease with, pointed at a large group of fierce corpses. He seems to have managed to dispatch a few already, but he's struggling, too frail for a fight like that, especially while protecting the little boy in his arms. 

The teenager is panting, breathing hard, but when one of the corpses comes closer he attacks without hesitation. 

Without skill as well. Whoever taught that kid to hold a sword did a terrible job of it. His movements are wrong for the weapon in his hand, though his posture isn't awful, meaning he does have some training. That boy is dreadful at fighting, and yet there's real skill to his movements, something almost familiar. He manages, somehow, to decapitate the fierce corpse, but loses his balance and falls, angling his body so the toddler in his arms won't be hurt. 

The child cries again, while in Nie Mingjue's hand Baxia nearly vibrates with rage. 

Even if they have to be careful not to hit the two children, Nie Mingjue and Lan Xichen effortlessly dispatch the fierce corpses and purify them before turning their attention to that odd duo they rescued. 

And they are odd indeed. The teenager's clothes aren't just too light for the middle of fall, they are spun in delicate silk and beautifully embroidered. His hair is disheveled from the fight but still retains elegant gold decorations shaped like the sun, like Wen concubines usually sport. This would explain the Wen sword in his hand, but only partly. The Wens don't usually let their concubines Night Hunt, or cultivate at all unless they are particularly beloved. 

Still curled up around the toddler, his eyes closed and panting hard, the boy flinches when Lan Xichen kneels next to him to check on him. 

"It's fine, you're safe now," Lan Xichen says gently. "They can't hurt you anymore." 

The boy's eyes snap open, and he stares at Lan Xichen like a poet stares at the moon. It's not an unusual reaction to seeing the First Jade of Gusu Lan, but something about it rubs Nie Mingjue the wrong way, especially when the boy's eyes turn to him and he gets so overwhelmed he starts crying. 

"I made it," he sobs, holding the toddler closer against his chest. "I made it, I made it!" 

Surprised as well by that reaction, but getting suspicious as to the reason behind it, Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue exchange a glance. If it is what they think, it's lucky it's only the two of them. The more people know, the harder it is to deal with these situations. 

"Did you come here all the way from Qishan?" Lan Xichen asks, with all the gentleness he's capable of. "From the palace?" 

The boy flinches again and sits up, pulling the toddler in his lap. There's a calculating air to him, but that's to be expected. He wouldn't have made it this far if he weren't careful. 

"My name is…" the boy starts, before stopping to look at both of them, his face turning harder. "My name is Mo Xuanyu," he says slowly, almost like he reciting a lesson. "My father gave me as a concubine to Wen Chao. The little boy is Wen Yuan. His mother was another concubine of Wen Chao. I think she's dead now. I hope she's dead." 

His arms tighten around the toddler who cries out in protest but doesn't try to escape. 

"Why do you think she's dead?" Lan Xichen asks, his voice perfectly steady even after hearing that name, while Nie Mingjue kneels next to him.

“You have to promise you’ll help us,” Mo Xuanyu retorts. “That you’ll help him at least,” he corrects, petting Wen Yuan’s hair. “If they find us, we’re dead. I don’t care. Dying isn’t that scary. But A-Yuan is just a baby, and his mother stayed behind so I’d have a better chance of taking him to safety, so I have to repay her. Take him at least, Nie zongzhu.”

Nie Mingjue frowns, wondering briefly how that boy recognises him. He’s dressed as simply as a regular Nie disciple, never seeing the point of bothering with regalia when he’s just Night Hunting with a friend. Before he can ask though, Mo Xuanyu tears little Wen Yuan from where he’s clinging to him and pushes him into Lan Xichen’s arms. The toddler cries of course, and reaches out for the older boy.

“It’s fine, Lan gongzi is a good person,” Mo Xuanyu says, tenderly petting the child’s hair with a gesture that makes Nie Mingjue’s heart clench. “It’s okay. You can trust him. He’ll take care of you. And Nie zongzhu will help us as well.”

Nie Mingjue will help indeed.

He would have helped anyway, but he sees the way Mo Xuanyu is petting that little boy’s hair and it makes him nearly sick with a sorrow he thought he’d learned to control.

It also just makes him sick in general. Mo Xuanyu can’t be much older than seventeen. If he has met Nie Huaisang, then he must have been no more than twelve or thirteen when he was taken in Qishan. It’s frightfully young, even by Wen Chao’s standards. Or did that gesture get passed down among unlucky concubines, just as Nie Mingjue did for his brother what his mother did for him when he was young?

It should bring him comfort, that something of Nie Huaisang managed to survive, that he left a trace even after what happened.

“There, you’re going to be good now,” Mo Xuanyu tells Wen Yuan when the toddler calms down, unable to resist the combination of that caress and Lan Xichen’s aura. “Everything is going to be fine, you’re safe now, A-Yuan. I’m done fulfilling my part of the deal now.”

“The deal?” Nie Mingjue repeats.

“With… with his mother, and someone else,” Mo Xuanyu explains, distractedly touching his forearm. “One half of it was to take A-Yuan to safety. That was his mother’s price with helping.”

“And the other half?” 

The boy, Mo Xuanyu, smiles. 

Nie Mingjue shudders. 

"I killed Wen Chao," Mo Xuanyu announces, his eyes shining feverishly. “Slit his throat. He choked on his own blood, exactly as he deserved. It took him for ever and I watched the entire time,” he adds, his expression nearly blissful.

Nie Mingjue freezes. He feels, distantly, that Lan Xichen has grabbed his arm and is holding too tight. 

He remembers. 

They both do, no matter how badly they want to forget.

Nie Huaisang’s body, already starting to rot, scavenged by foxes, his throat slit so deep his head rolled when they tried to move him. He’d been gone for months, not a trace to be found until anonymous messages came to Qinghe, telling Nie Mingjue that Wen Chao had a new concubine, one who had arrived to Nightless City right as Nie Huaisang disappeared, one who nobody was allowed to see. The message had urged Nie Mingjue to act fast.

He hadn’t been fast enough.

Just as Lan Xichen and him were preparing to storm Nightless City to get Nie Huaisang back, they’d been told about that body near Caiyi Town.

Near the last place anyone had seen Nie Huaisang.

An accident, everyone said. A robbery gone wrong maybe, the fishermen who found the corpse said. There were bandits in the area and Nie Huaisang was never the strongest of cultivators.

A sure way to get rid of an inconvenient witness, some whispered. Wen Chao had picked the wrong person to steal away this time, and his father had dealt with the problem to protect his son.

Or perhaps it had been Wen Chao himself. One of his discarded concubines, who had managed to escape, said that one of them had tried to kill him, once, and got so near to it that he’d managed to leave a scar on Wen Chao. Nie Mingjue liked to imagine it had been his brother. Nie Huaisang wasn’t much of a cultivator, but he was a Nie, and he wouldn’t have gone without a fight… or so Nie Mingjue told himself.

He had to find comfort somewhere.

Right now, he finds that comfort in a tender gesture that Mo Xuanyu must have learned somewhere, and in the knowledge that his brother was avenged by a boy hardly older or stronger than Nie Huaisang was.

A boy who can’t be allowed to fall in Wen hands.

Death isn’t the worst thing that Wen Ruohan will do to him if he really murdered his favourite son.

“Can you fly on that sword?” Nie Mingjue asks.

Mo Xuanyu gives his blade an appraising look, and grimaces.

“Badly. Slowly. I don’t have a golden core. But I can do it, yes.”

“That won’t be enough. You’ll fly with me.”

It’s something Nie Mingjue normally avoids, because Baxia doesn’t like to deal with strangers. She’s usually angry when she’s made to carry anyone, except Nie Huaisang who she tolerated with the same sort of feigned reluctance that Nie Mingjue used to show toward his brother’s antics. 

Today she tolerates Mo Xuanyu with surprising ease as well. She must feel Nie Mingjue’s gratitude toward this nothing of a boy who did what they couldn’t do.

Wen Chao is dead, and Nie Mingjue will protect his murderer, the way he failed to protect his brother.

[annaofthenorthernlights]

It´s your life

Chapter 3

New world

Kristanna Modern AU

Rating: G

Word counting: 2228

Previous chapters (on AO3)

Note:

I´ve been to Disneyland Paris (Europe) before. Please forgive if there are inadequacies about the resort in CA.

Along this chapter I figured this fanfic takes place around spring 2014. Why? You´ll see…😊

Another note at the end of the chapter.

“You didn´t!”

Anna shrieked with excitement when they turned around the corner, entering the Western-Town-Alley. The imitation of the pioneer-aera town would catapult their guests into the time of cowboys and saloon girls roaming the street. So, the saloon would make the breakfast room, while bank building contained the tourist-information, informing all guests about major events, tickets selling of all sorts and providing material for the trip along the parc. Along the alley there stood little buildings as accommodations from single up to family rooms. At the end of the road there was the “great Casino”, the dining hall. That´s where they would eat shortly, so there was not that much time of wandering about.

The room was clearly expanding the feeling of being thrown back in time. It was situated further down the “towns street”, which was great. Because then one would need to walk all the way along the buildings and exploring the “western flair”.

Anna gnawed on her lower lip as she plunged herself on the wood framed bed, bouncing on the mattress to check its sound and feeling. Okay, it was sturdy, because there was no sound of a squeaky slatted frame.

Kristoff had put down their bags and looked at her amused, sitting down next to her. “You like it?”

“Are you kidding me? I love it. This is so great. Thank you so much considering this type of accommodation.” With that, she perked a kiss to his cheek, laughing and glancing around their nest. It was a simple room, but with a lovely charm to the details of interior and decoration. Nothing fancy, all wooden furniture and a woolen knotted carpet in front of the bed. Not much more. Th bathroom was modern of course, but simple in style, too.

“Glad you do.” Kristoff smiled and lay back for a moment. “I´m still sorry, I can´t give you the exquisite room in the princess hotel… But to be honest, I like it in here quite the more…”

“Stop that!” Anna scolded. “It´s really great, I love it. And I love it even the more, because you do this all for me.” She leaned over and cuddled against his side. Then, she pushed up on her elbow, looking around one more time.

“You know what? This reminds me so much of a story I have recently read on an internet blog site. It´s not a real story, well you know it´s a so-called fanfiction – a story about a story…Never mind, it´s called “Where the world is in the making”, taking place about 150 years ago, pioneer-aera. A young girl from the east coast travels west to marry a young homesteader by advertisement. It´s a hard life but they gradually and slowly start falling in love with each other, without realizing it of course… It´s so romantic and tragic all in one.” Anna laid back into her man´s embrace and sighed. It was good to know, they wouldn´t have to go over to some creek to get some washing…

Kristoff had listened. He was not the reader, but he liked listening to her story telling. He had heard of it before, of women traveling far to get married to some advertising men in the west. That was so crazy. But it was a different time and apparently it had worked. Somehow. Maybe. Who really knew today what they had lived like?

*******

Their table at the Casino restaurant was situated by the window and they had the perfect view onto the street. Anna sat beaming, and glancing around the place in disbelief. She could hardly take it all in, the moment was to blissful to her. She pulled up her shoulders and pressed her lips together.

“I can´t believe we´re sitting here. This is… wonderful. Thank you so much!” She reached over and Kristoff responded by squeezing her hand, smiling. “You´re welcome. Glad you enjoy yourself so immensely.”

A young woman stepped up to their table and pulled them out of their stare. She smiled so naturally and handed the menu. “Hi. I´m Honeymaren and I will be your server tonight. What can I bring you for drinks?”

When the server had left with their orders, Anna leaned back in her chair and tilted her head in thought.

“A penny for your mind.” Kristoff leaned back himself.

“Hm. I was thinking.” Anna fiddled with her fingers. “About that story, that I´ve told you just before. Those times must have been harsh and dangerous, too. I wonder how brave people back then must have been. I mean, they have left their former homes, pursuing a dream to find a golden future in the western realms. They have built new homes, towns, and established communities. Okay I´m not going into the dark chapter of forcing whole folks to move and leaving their land of ancestors. That was the bad history… But they had literally formed a “new world”. Like in that story I read, it was in the making. Are we still “in the making”, or is it all done and settled?”

“That´s a good question. I think we should never be “done” and stop dreaming of a better world. Otherwise, we get lazy and inattentive. That´s dangerous.”

That moment, Honeymaren appeared with their drinks and was ready to get their meal order taken. While Kristoff and Anna still take a quick moment to gaze into their menu cards, the young woman looks back and forth between them, curling her lips. When she´d taken their wishes, she smiled, thanked, and disappeared. Once behind the bar, she hurried to the phone and started to dial a number. “Mathias! Hi. Honeymaren here…”

“I hope Elsa is alright.” Anna bites her lips and looks genuinely concerned. “I mean, it was not nice of me to cut her off like that. It´s not her fault, our family is in that business. Now, she had to deal with excusing me in some way. But then, the time would never be right for this, no?”

“No. It´s not. Whenever you would want to decide for yourself, you´d be the “troublemaker”. But Anna. Again, no matter what happens, I will be there for you. Not telling you what to do, but to support you. Okay?”

Now, her smile was back. “Yes, I know. Thank you. It´s just… Well, I guess that I will get to hear my lot. And I´m sure grandpa won´t put up with my “rebellion” and support me in this. So, I was wondering if I might be even able to finish my exams in the first place. I will have to take it step by step once back home. But that´s okay. I have time, don´t I? Otherwise, I will change plans and do something else. Something useful, that I know I will be good at, somehow. Around normal people, in a normal world.”

“Yes, you will!” Kristoff smiled at her reassuringly.

***

Kristoff held the little gift in his hand, unsure to give it Anna yet… When he had picked her up today, he had not expected the call Anna would get from Elsa. For some reason it had hit him in a spot, he had not realised before. Kristoff loved Anna for so many reasons. Maybe the greatest one was the fact that she loved him so naturally, so unconditionally, even though she was raised in such high standard surroundings.

But then, she had suffered this ugly betrayal, painfully facing the smirked mask of greed, when Hans had dropped her like a cheap cloth to the ground. She had been nothing more than a good trespass into the Rendelle business. Once his chances of career at the well named establishment got shrinking, she had been of no interest or rather use to him anymore. He was gone, faster than he had shown up. She´d been so embarrassed and devastated.

So, when Kristoff had first met her, it had been merely per accident. They had bumped practically into each other on a birthday party, neither of them had been eager to attend. That friend of hers from Senior High had moved on ever since. Kristoff had been invited by Sven, who had been invited by the birthday girl´s boyfriend. Sometimes the world was just small indeed.

Kristoff smiled at the memory of that first so dreadful evening, that at the end turned out to be so warm and wonderful. They had – by fate? – landed sitting next to each other, both kind of uninterested in great talk, while Anna was the one starting the conversation. First on a more polite basis, where at the end, they found themselves wound up discussing all sorts of things, from music, movies, food tastes, cars (well that was more his part, but she had listened and shown great interest best she managed), up to holiday spots worth dreaming about. And when he told her about his passion of working with wood and tools of all kinds, her eyes sparkled with pure and honest interest. He was bewildered at this recognition and asked her about this affection. Anna had smiled and explained, that she loved it when people were excited about what they did or loved. She didn´t know that much about passionate work or hobbies because all she was ever taught was to work hard for the family name and focus on that career. There was not much space left for anything else.

And when he had invited her to come and look at some of his and Sven´s projects, she had eagerly agreed and had never failed to show her pure interest.

Kristoff was positive that Anna would make her way and do a great job, no matter what she would do. If it were to help with guests and provide breakfast for them at his parents boarding house. She would do it enthusiastically and passionately. If she would defend some kid from being accused of robbery or any other unproved mischief, and then getting the best deal sorted out at court – she would be great. He was sure.

But now, he was wondering if his plans would fit her upcoming life. Just today, she had taken the courage to step away from an old life that had kept her in its forceps for so long. Was it fair if he asked her into his world like that? Binding her to him in this way, that maybe meant that she would be kept captive again? She deserved all freedom to herself now.

Kristoff sat on the edge of the bed, turning the little giftbox in his hands, waiting for Anna to emerge from the bathroom. When he heard the shower being turned off, he quickly stored the little box off into the nightstand drawer.

***

A desperate yell from the bathroom, followed by a shower of swearing from Anna´s exaggerated and clearly annoyed and shocked voice startled the young man to jump and hurry over to the bathroom door, just to push it open.

“Goodness, Anna! Are you alright?”

She stood wrapped in the towel, fumbling within her toilet bag, all the while stamping her foot, frowning, and swearing to the bag. Then she looked up, a miserable expression on her face, close to tears.

Kristoff stepped closer, worried she was hurt or in pain or whatsoever. “Hey, honey, what´s the matter?” He didn´t dare touch her while she looked so furious in a way.

Anna let out a heavy sigh, shrugged helplessly, and then held up the accusing delict.

Kristoff studied the little white cotton thing that was swinging in front of his nose and once recognising what it was, he grimaced and withheld the laugh.

Anna blurted out in a wild explosion, “I´m so sorry! It´s terrible, I had forgotten completely about this. It started just this evening. I´m so sorry….” She pleaded frustrated… At some point she had lowered her hand, fumbling with the tampon, annoyed...

Kristoff couldn´t help but laugh inwardly. Yep, that was bad timing, but for sure not her fault. So, he wouldn´t blame her or anything. That was after all a nature´s circle and part of the game.

He shrugged, scratched at the back of his head and sighed.

“Well, that´s too bad, isn´t it. I mean, think of it. Every princess of this resort and her catch ´might have sex tonight, except for us. Not think of what Mickey and Minnie Mouse will be up to…?” He grinned.

Anna stared at him. He was the best. Surely, he would be upset. But then, he was always so considerate when it came to her various conditions. By now, she shook her head in amusement and punched a fist to his upper arm.

“You pervert!” Then, she laughed and gnawed her lower lip. “Dam it! Now, I can´t get the picture out of my head!”

“We can change that.” Kristoff remarked, and pulled her close to him, “I´m sure we figure out some other ways of cherishing our time together.”

Anna frowned again and sighed, “but…!” She gestured to the room. “But… This is sooo amazing, and I screw it up!”

“No. You don´t! This not your fault and it isn´t like we wouldn´t get some other chance, wouldn´t we? Still… I do envy Mr. Cotton a bit, you know.”

That was it. Anna shoved him out of the bathroom playfully scolding him along the way.

*********

Note: The idea of mentioning another fanfic within the fanfic was very spontaneous – including the authors´ consent (WTWIITM – thanks to @upthenorthmountain and @karis-the-fangirl) 😊

[bloodpacks-archive]

mango

word count: 3.6k!! I love!!

summary: peter fell in love. here’s the story.

warnings: hi okay so there’s like. one bit where someone gets a few cuts from glass on accident and it’s not a huge deal and it’s not described in detail. Also! There’s a bit where there’s a tiny fight but it’s super quick.

note: hi!!! I love this fic!!! It’s so soft and pretty and i love the whole thing with my entire heart because!! It’s just so soft!! And Peter is in love!! This is a feel-good fic and i like it lots and i just really want you guys to like it too!! thank you for reading!!

When Peter first saw her—really saw her—it was an autumn morning. The air was just cold enough that he’d been forced to start wearing sweatshirts or light jackets, and the city seemed to have this new kind of life to it with the approach of winter.

But she had this new kind of life, a new kind of brightness that Peter couldn’t quite place. And he recognized her, he thought she was in a few of his classes, or maybe he’d just seen her in the halls, but there was something about today that just caught his eye. She was laughing, a musical sound, as she spoke with who Peter assumed was one of her friends.

And it catches him off guard, because he hasn’t felt like this in a while. Not since MJ said it “just wasn’t working out” and that she “still loves him as a friend.” That one hurt for a bit. But now it’s his senior year, and it’s been at least half a year since MJ, and there’s this girl standing in front of him.

And Peter really isn’t sure how to act.

And maybe he should have noticed that he’d been looking at her for too long, but he really wasn’t expecting for said girl to glance over in his direction, and then smile and wave at him.

It almost knocked him off his feet.

That day, he sees her everywhere. She’s in his English and his math, and he sees her in the hallways almost every time he turns a corner. When he’s sitting in english, she gets called on to answer a question, and her voice has this pretty flow to it, one that makes him want to listen closer even if she talked about something he had no interest in.

He feels a bit silly for never noticing her before, because right now, when she speaks it feels like laying in sunshine. And Peter just really likes that feeling.

So when they just happen to get partnered up for for an English project, Peter can’t say he’s complaining. Especially since he sucks at English and—based on the answer he just heard—she knows what she’s doing.

The time together is just a bonus.

When she walks over to him, she’s got this bright smile on her face.

“Peter, right?” She asks as she sits down next to him, and he nods, and offers her a smile back. “Great, so, do you wanna get together tomorrow maybe and work on this? We could honestly probably get it done in a few hours.”

“Yeah, that sounds great, when are you free?” She glances up at the clock, and lets her eyebrows furrow together as she looks back at him.

“The bell’s about to ring and I really need to get home, how about I give you my number and you text me?”

And so Peter just nods, and hands her his phone. She types her number in, and then the bell rings and she waves a goodbye to him before walking out of the room.

When Peter looks down at his phone, her name is staring back at him, with a smiley face at the end.

—————

The next day, Peter’s sitting in a café, sipping on a warm drink while he waits for her to walk in. He’s glancing over the rubric, trying to figure out everything they’ll need, when he feels a gust of cold air blow past him. He glances up at the door and sees her scanning the room. When her eyes meet his, she smiles, waving at him as she makes her way to the table. Peter has to stifle a laugh as she just barely bumps into a woman getting up from her seat. He watches as they both say quick apologies. When she gets to the table she widens her eyes and makes a face, and Peter lets out a breath of laughter.

“I’m lucky she didn’t have coffee in her hand,” She mutters as she puts her laptop on the table.

“You’re lucky that she seemed nice.”

“Oh you didn’t see the dirty look she gave me.”

And Peter raises his eyebrows at her, smiling and shaking his head as he watches her. She excuses herself so she can go get something to drink, and when she comes back, they’re quick to get to work.

Peter starts to notice little things about her, like the way she flicks her pencil between her fingers while she’s thinking, or how when she’s frustrated with whatever she’s typing, she’ll lean her head back and close her eyes while she types, or how, even though she voluntarily got a cold drink, she still shivers every now and then. It makes him smile.

“What’re you smiling at?” She asks in between a beat of silence when she had been trying to think of what to type. It makes Peter’s heart drop for a moment, makes heat creep up the back of his neck.

“Nothing,” He answers, probably a bit too quickly, and she smiles, dropping her gaze and quickly getting back to work.

He notices that smile doesn’t go away for a bit.

It’s around two hours later when they finish the project, and it almost makes Peter a little sad when they have to part ways. But she puts her hand on his arm, just for a moment, and says something about how they should hang out sometime, and it makes Peter’s heart flutter, so he takes everything he can.

Later that night, when Peter’s just getting home from patrol, she texts him something that had reminded her of him. They stay up texting for most of the night.

—————

It’s a few months later when they’re sitting together at lunch. It’s winter now, and whispers of Christmas and New Year’s linger in the air. At this point, Ned knows about his crush, and he isn’t exactly subtle about it, because every time she talks to him, Ned gives Peter a look and he has to stop himself from rolling his eyes.

But it’s nice, because even though they haven’t done anything, because hell, Peter’s scared and he’s not really sure if he has the time for a girlfriend right now, he gets to spend time with her, and that’s something he’s really happy to have.

And she melds well with the group. Ned loves her, loves how she’s quick witted and isn’t afraid to make fun of Peter with him—much to Peter’s dismay—and MJ thinks she’s fun, and they hang out all the time ever since they found their shared love of true crime documentaries. Peter’s even pretty sure Flash likes her, with how often he hangs around the group now. And somehow, Flash makes fun of Peter less when she’s around. So even though he’s pretty sure he’s just trying to get close to her, Peter doesn’t mind it too much.

He especially doesn’t mind it when the two of them hang out at his apartment, and they’re both leaning against his bed, blankets wrapped around them and snacks between them while they watch movies.

And he doesn’t mind it when her head falls on his shoulder, tired from the week, and her eyes fall shut halfway through the movie, because at least she’s here, and he’s really happy to have that.

—————

He’s on patrol when he hears word of a robbery on 21st, and Peter’s quick to swing past buildings and practically fly down the streets New York to get there. When he arrives, there’s three guys inside the bank, one watching while the other two grab as much money as they can from the broken ATM. Peter almost rolls his eyes.

“You guys never learn, do you?” Peter says as he webs the guy on watch’s hand to his gun. The other two glance up at him, and both go for their guns, quickly pulling them on Peter. Peter flips up and over them as they start shooting, and then swings to kick one of them out towards the window. The window breaks, sending glass shattering across the sidewalk. Peter webs the guy outside to the ground, and then counters a hit from watch-guy, pushing back and sending both him and the only other guy still left to the ground. He webs them both to the floor, which has pieces of glass scattered around it. It’s then when Peter hears the police sirens, and he goes to leave when he hears someone hiss.

When he glances outside, he sees a girl on sitting against the wall of the building, holding her right arm in one hand.

“Hey, you okay?” Peter asks as he approaches her, and when she glances up, Peter feels his heart drop.

Because of course it’s her. It’s always his friends who end up in the wrong place at the wrong time.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine just-“ She hisses again. “A few pieces of glass hit my arm and I have a few cuts. It’s nothing bad, I should be fine. It just kinda stings.”

Peter lets his eyes fall down to her arm, and she’s right, it’s not bad, but she’s clearly in pain and she needs to get home so she can still get them disinfected and bandaged up. And since he has experience in the field, he offers. And there’s something that crosses her face. Her eyebrows furrow, and she bites the inside of her cheek, but her eyes still carry that brightness he’s oh so familiar with. And she says yes.

He’s careful taking her home. He glances over every two seconds to make sure she’s okay, and she always is, but he can’t help but be a bit worried. When they finally get to her apartment, there’s a moment of awkward silence, but then she motions that she’ll go grab their first aid kit, and Peter just nods.

He’s been in her room millions of times by now, but there’s always something weird about going places as Spider-Man. He’s so familiar with these places, but he’s not supposed to be. So he feels out of place. It almost feels like he’s just passing through. Or like he’s someplace he really shouldn’t be. Either way, it isn’t his favorite feeling.

So he glances around the room to distract himself. He’s noticed that she’s put a few more pictures on her bulletin board, and he walks over to look at them.

There’s a picture of MJ, standing in a crowd and holding up a sign. He smiles. It’s very like them. His eyes fall down the board. There’s a picture of Ned excitedly showing off his lego death star, and another picture of all four them sitting at Ned’s house while they ate pizza. MJ had forced them to watch about five different documentaries that night, but to be honest, it was too much fun for any of them to mind. (And even though Peter would never admit it, they were kind of interesting).

And then his eyes fall on a picture of himself. He’s leaning over a physics textbook, but he’d glanced up to give her a look as she took the picture. He’d rolled his eyes at her after that, and then grabbed a piece of popcorn to throw at her. And then there’s another picture, from when they’d gone to a museum together. He’s sticking his tongue out at her from in front of a weird modern art sculpture because she said he “clearly wasn’t sophisticated enough to understand the complexities of a misshapen head.”

After that, they’d gone to look at more of the Monet paintings, because those were her favorite.

“Sorry, I’m back, that took forever to find.”

“No, you’re fine.” She sits on the bed, and puts the first aid kit by her side. Peter walks over and kneels in front of her. He’s pretty familiar with first aid kits at the point, so he barely even has to look at everything before he knows where everything is. “Did you run it under water? And use soap?”

She nods, “It’s really not that bad, you don’t need to bandage me up and everything.”

“I broke the window, it’s the least I could do.”

He dabs some disinfectant gel on the cuts, and then starts to wrap bandages around the few deeper cuts.

“I guess you’re pretty used to this stuff, right?” Her voice sounds hesitant, and he’s not really sure when he’s ever heard her be like this. Even when they didn’t know each other, she was so sure of herself. It’s weird to hear her like this.

“Yeah, I try to avoid it though. Still sucks.”

He finishes wrapping bandages and then looks up at her. She’s analyzing something, her eyes falling over his mask and her eyebrows furrowed.

“Are you okay?” He asks. She nods, slowly.

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine.”

Peter moves to leave, walking towards the window. He turns back, glancing at her for just a moment.

“Stay safe, alright?” He watches as she nods, and then he goes to swing out the window.

“Wait-“

He turns back and she’s standing up, walking towards him with careful steps.

“Okay this is going to be really weird if you aren’t who I think you are.” She pauses, and walks until she’s right in front of him. Peter can feel his heart speeding up, can feel the way his breath has quickened. He’s terrified, and based on the look in her eyes, she definitely knows.

“Peter?” She whispers. And he’s silent, because honestly, he doesn’t know what to say, or how to explain himself, or how to deny it, because she knows and there’s nothing he can do about it.

So it’s silent, but then she’s suddenly more sure of herself. She’s slow to reach her hands up to his mask, and Peter lets her.

“Can I take this off?” She asks, and Peter just nods, because there’s no point to stopping her now.

So she does, in slow movements, she takes his mask away from his face, and then suddenly they’re standing together, and she knows.

“Hi,” Peter whispers, and she lets a breath of a laugh escape her lips, and it makes Peter feel a little better about everything.

“I’m impressed,” She says.

“Impressed?”

“Who knew you could keep a secret for so long.”

And that makes Peter laugh, but he rolls his eyes at her, and so she joins in his laughter.

“Thank you for taking me home and making sure I was okay,” She says after their laughter fades.

“It was my fault you got hurt, it was the least I could do.”

“Hey,” Her hand goes up to his shoulder, her thumb rubbing back and forth, “it wasn’t your fault, okay? You couldn’t have known someone was gonna be there.”

“I still should’ve been more careful.”

“If that’s what you think, then you’ll know for next time.”

Their eyes meet for just a moment, and then she’s pulling him in for a hug. It takes Peter by surprise, but he’s quick to wrap his arms around her, letting his nose bury into the crook of her neck.

“You gotta stay safe out there, okay?” She’s muffled by his shoulder, but he understands her all the same.

“I know, I try.”

She pulls away to look at him, and she’s got her head tilted to the side, eyebrows raised.

“Okay, I’ll try harder.”

“Thank you,” She says, “I don’t know what I’d do if you got hurt.”

“Bandage me up?” Peter replies. She laughs, turning her gaze to the floor before shaking her head back up at him.

“I guess so.”

—————

It’s a few weeks later when they find themselves at a New Year’s party. Flash had insisted they all come, and although Peter’s pretty sure it was just to get Y/n at the party, he was more afraid of what Flash would do if they didn’t show up, so they decide to go.

Peter stays by her side the entire night, and they quietly whisper in each other ears about the party, the things around them, the people around them. It’s all very cliché, but Peter’s having fun because he’s next to her. So he doesn’t mind.

The party’s loud, there’s music playing and way too many people to be in one house, but sometimes Peter catches Ned and MJ’s eyes, and Ned winks at Peter, and it feels like they’re all at Ned’s house.

She pulls on his arm when there’s just a few minutes until midnight, bringing him towards the giant screen Flash had set up to watch the ball drop.

“Hey, Peter. I have something to tell you.” She turns to him, and she’s got one of his hands in her own, her eyes bright as she looks up at him. She’s got a permanent smile painted on her lips as her eyes flit over her face, and it makes his heart melt. She takes a breath. “I really like you.”

Peter can’t help the smile that takes over his face.

“I really like you, too.”

“So, personally, I’ve never had a New Year’s kiss.” She pauses for a moment, taking a breath. “And I was thinking this year might be a good one to start.”

As if on cue, the countdown begins. People are yelling around them, and the crowd around the screen is growing bigger, but Peter can only focus on her. Then suddenly, there’s cheering, and people are blowing noise makers, and hugging, and then she’s leaning up to him.

And then it’s just the two of them. It’s officially the New Year, and she’s kissing him. And it’s perfect, because she tastes like her mango chapstick, and she’s with him, and her hands are playing with the hair at the back of his neck, and he thinks this is the happiest he’s ever felt.

—————

Spring is sneaking it’s way into New York. It rains most days, so Peter’s been wearing a rain jacket, but since she has a habit of forgetting her umbrella, he’s found that he’s also been carrying an umbrella of his own just for her.

She’s laying next to him on his bed, tracing little patterns onto his chest, almost mindlessly. Her head is on his chest, and he’s running his hands through her hair as they watch movies. He’s come to realize she’s like moonlight. 

She’s his way home. She’s his light in the dark. She’s the brightest thing he’s ever seen, and she’s a wonder. And right now, he’s not sure what he’d do if she disappeared.

And he’s pretty sure this is more than a like.

And he feels like it shouldn’t be so difficult to say, because he says it all the time. He says it to May before he leaves every day, he says it to Ned, hell, he said it to Tony on accident one day and apologized about a million times before Tony said he loved him too, but to get back to his homework.

But it’s just different. Because she’s like the moonlight, and he doesn’t know what he’d do if he lost her.

And it’s gone through his head a lot lately. He thinks it when he sees her at school, when they say goodbye, when she laughs, when she flicks her pencil between her fingers. He’s always thinking it.

But he’s scared. Because it seems like whenever he says he loves someone, he’s more likely to lose them. And he really doesn’t want to lose her.

“What’re you thinking about?” He hadn’t even noticed that she’d paused the movie, but now she’s got her chin on his chest, and she’s playing with his hand.

“Nothing,” He replies.

“You always say that.”

“Maybe I don’t think.”

“Okay Mr. Top-Of-The-Class.”

And Peter rolls his eyes at her, grabbing a pillow to lightly hit her. He feels her laughter more than he hears it, and it makes a smile reach his face.

“Okay but really, what are you thinking about?” She puts the pillow under her chin now, making her a bit more eye-level with him.

And Peter’s thinking about saying it. Because maybe she’ll say it back and it’ll all be fine and nothing will happen and they can just keep going. But he doesn’t know.

“You know you’re like my favorite person, right?” He finally says.

“Poor Ned and May.”

“That’s different.”

“And how’s that?”

And it makes Peter pause, but Peter takes a breath and closes his eyes for a second.

“Because I’m not in love with them.”

And god, the smile that breaks out on her face makes every second of overthinking worth it. The way she tilts her head to the side, and lets a little breathless laugh pass her lips, it makes every second of it worth it.

“You’re in love with me?” She whispers.

Peter leans up, and wraps his arms around her waist. She lets her arms lazily rest over his shoulders, and she moves to lean their foreheads together.

“God, I am so in love with you.”

And she lets that breathless laughter escape her again, and it makes Peter want to hold onto her and never let her go. She leans into him, pressing a quick kiss to lips. She still tastes like mango chapstick, and Peter’s pretty sure that’s his new favorite chapstick.

“I am so in love with you, too.” She whispers when they pull away.

Peter decides that’s his favorite thing she’s ever said.

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[ch4o7ix]

Edaclark - Singapore night

oh hello there. i said i was gonna post my edaclark fic here, so here i am. originally it was in portuguese, and for this i just googled, used an app and also made some modifications, but i think it’s okay! If the fic has any grammar mistake, feel free to say it.

Enjoy! <3

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

The cold night wind hit his face, his gaze distant, focused on the not-so-starry Singapore sky. Clark liked to be there at night, not only because of the pool he shared with beautiful ladies but also because of the beautiful view that the place affords him. Lowering his gaze, he could gradually see the illuminated city he loved so much. A smile formed on his face as he traced with his eyes the path he normally took during his runs. He really loved what he did, flying was wonderful but still ... the adrenaline he felt was not what he expected to feel.

Normally, the excitement of flying was not in the uncertainty of his victory, since it was guaranteed, but mainly in the fear of the plane falling in any way. And that was not a pleasant feeling to feel. He rested his head on his hands, a tired sigh coming out. He missed feeling the real thrill of a race, but the last time he tried to have a real competition it didn't end well.

Just thinking about the last race he had with Lewis made him feel guilty. He was not directly guilty of causing this accident, he knew very well who set up the veteran, but ... he still felt his chest tighten with the overwhelming sense of guilt. This feeling intensified when he remembered his newest mechanic, Edamura. Although he disguised it well, his look of disgust directed at the men who ruined his former employer's life was quite remarkable.

The young competitor, if he could really call himself that, just wanted to be able to have a real contest, without scripts, without frames. Sure, he loves his brother, but he couldn't deny that the methods he uses are, in addition to being harmful, dangerous. The prince was tired, tired of the guilt he carried, tired of his brother's "scripted entertainment", tired of this false emotion, tired of lying.

Clark takes one of his hands to his hair, pulling it back, letting out a long breath. Problems and guilt are not going to go away with that, but at least that little gesture calms the young man.

The man is startled to hear the sound of footsteps, accompanied by a relatively loud yawn. He turned around, hoping to find a guest coming to get some air or even the older Ibrahim. But he was surprised to find a well-known mechanic, Makoto Edamura, walking towards him with a small smile on his lips. He felt his heart skip a beat, smiling back at the Japanese.

— Good night, Clark! – he said, his lovely accent noticeable even with that simple sentence.

— Hi Edamura! – The older one smiled, watching the smaller one lean against the fence that prevented them from falling while looking at the sky with a frown. – What happened? Are you cold? – He asked, even though he knew that the white sweatshirt the other was wearing was probably warm enough.

— No, I just ... I imagined that the sky here would be more starry. When I talked to Cynthia she told me that the view from up here was so beautiful. – He sounded disappointed, turning to the one with the dark blue eyes as if silently asking: "Do you understand?", making him nod in understanding, looking away again at the sky.

— It's quite annoying that the city is so bright at night that we can't even see the stars in the sky. But still, it's a beautiful view, depending on where you look. – He lowered his vision, leading Makoto to follow his gaze to the illuminated city, a breathtaking sight. The mechanic's eyes shone and he smiled in awe at the view, the sounds of the city gradually synchronizing and forming a unique soundtrack for that moment, which was attentively watched by the younger Ibrahim, who felt his chest warm and the damn butterflies if they churn in your stomach.

Edamura's smile is beautiful. Clark would do anything to be able to see him smile like that more often and would do anything to be the reason for that smile. Since he talked to the man for the first time, the prince felt something for him. He didn't know how to name it, but he knew it was complex ... and good. When the brown eyes met him again, filled with enthusiasm and shining with the reflection of the Singapore lights, Clark felt his stomach turn seven times in clockwise and counterclockwise direction, causing some sickness in the older man. Sometimes the feeling was not so good.

— Do you come here a lot? You must come, I never got to see a city from above, and from here everything is so bright! It even makes me forget about the fear of heights, you know? – He looked back at the city, taking his cell phone out of his sweatshirt pocket to take a picture. The older one smiled silly, seeing his face concentrated to take a perfect picture.

— Yes, it is. – "but not as much as you", he wanted to say, however, kept the thought to himself. – But I thought you lived in Tokyo before, how have you never seen anything like it? – He asked, making Makoto turn his face to face him, lowering his cell phone slightly, beyond the glass fence. "Oh, oh, I already see where this is going," he thought, looking back into the man's chocolate eyes.

— I'm afraid of heights, so the most I've seen were in pictures. – he replied to the surprise of the Singaporean, who until then imagined that every Japanese would have seen the city from above at least once in his life, as cariocas would do with Christ the Redeemer.

— If you are afraid of heights, then don't worry, my little Edamura! – he dictated, placing his hand on his chest gloriously, before hugging the smaller one from behind, drawing a small exclamation followed by a laugh from him. – Your prince here will see to it that neither you nor your cell phone – he took the device from the other's hands, who were protesting with laughter. – fall from that deadly height! – Finally, Clark gave a kiss on the top of the mechanic's head, who stopped laughing, still surprised by the action of the bigger one.

Makoto turned in his embrace, raising his face with a frown, his cheeks so red it looked like he had even been slapped, not a hug. Clark felt his heart accelerate again, his mouth slightly open and his eyes locked on that beautiful face, in the eyes that he had so often compared with chocolate, in his slender nose, his lips forming that attractive pout, so inviting… His body moved involuntarily, and when he found himself, Clark was just inches away from kissing the brown-haired man, who was in shock in his embrace.

The proximity between them was sufficient for them to be breathing the same air, but still, neither of them dared to move for a good two minutes. Two minutes that lasted an eternity. An eternity that Clark was enjoying. He was enjoying feeling the synchrony between his breaths, his heart beating together with that of the Japanese, the looks they exchanged, and the fact that so far, the other has not retreated. That was good, right? Perhaps it was by surprise, but even after the time of the initial shock, he did not move.

The older man's unoccupied hand was placed on the other's back, a move that was enough to get Edamura out of the initial trance. He quickly emerged from the prince's embrace, whirling a little and then stopping some distance from him, showing a mocking smile and waving his cell phone over his head. Ibrahim was still processing the fact that the moment between the two ended when he realized that the device was no longer in his hands. When did he get it?

— I didn't know you were the type to steal, Edamura! – He laughed, one eyebrow raised while still trying to understand when the cell phone left his hands.

— It's that saying: thief who steals thief, has a thousand years of forgiveness! – He laughed, going to the pool area while unlocking the device, being followed by the pilot.

— I never heard that saying, but for me, if you rhyme, then I'll believe it. – he said, trying to get Makoto's cell phone again. This one, however, was faster, deviating fully while walking again, taking care not to get too close to the pool. – If a thief steals the thief who stole it, how many years of forgiveness would he gain?

— And you think you could steal me? – the brown-haired one asked in disbelief, crossing his arms and consequently hiding the cell phone from Clark's heavy hands, receiving only a smile from the other. – Okay, if a thief manages to steal the thief who stole it, I think he would have... Ten years of forgiveness!

— Only ten?! Why?

— Because that means the robbery was a success in the end. A thief was unable to steal, but the thief who was stolen in the beginning continued with the stolen item, so he remains guilty of theft. – He smiled victoriously as he faced the employer's expression of defeat, who only sighed in response to his hypothetical arrest.

Almost a second later, Clark surprised Makoto by jumping on him, but as usual, he swerved gracefully...

— Haha! I told you that you- –… to immediately take a step towards the edge of the pool. At that moment, Edamura could have sworn he saw his life passing like a short film before his eyes, one of the most striking phrases being that of Abby, calling him a virgin for the hundredth time.

Clark luckily held his hand, preventing the fall from occurring. Both smiled in relief before the betrayal occurred. Clark took the damn cell phone from the mechanic, who widened his eyes in disbelief at the older man's attitude. As soon as his objective was in his hands, a final evil smile was given towards his friend, before his hand dropped him to his icy death.

The sound of the fall was painful to hear, mainly because drops of cold water from the pool reached the prince, but in the end, he was still dry and had managed ten years of forgiveness.

— You are an asshole! – Makoto said as soon as he emerged, frowning and drenched, like a cat that ended up falling into the water unintentionally, which was not far from reality. – You are a bastard and an asshole!

— I am not the one in a pool, in the cold, and on top of clothes. – Ibrahim scoffed, placing the cell phone on one of the chairs that were nearby, to crouch in front of the angry Japanese. – But I can think of helping you with one condition! – he said with his index finger raised and a wide smile growing in his face. – For a kiss, I-

And again, the sound of a body submerging in the icy water was heard. Makoto gave a short and evil laugh with his revenge. Clark emerged quickly, already shivering with a frown instead of his usual smile.

— Ugly face for me is hunger. – Makoto said, resting his elbows on the edge of the pool as he watched the Singaporean dive and appear on his side, looking more comfortable with the temperature, although he still trembles slightly.

— Your luck is that it's not that cold today. – The pilot leaned on the edge of the pool sulking. – And you cursed me earlier, you cursed someone from royalty! – he exclaimed, almost convincing the minor that the offenses offended him, narrowly failing due to his exaggerated facial expression.

— Well, maybe I can think of helping you. – the scammer said, joining in the game and imitating the mocking air that the prince had taken when he offered him help. – For a kiss, maybe I can forgive you, how about? – He asked with a raised eyebrow.

Even though Clark knew it was a joke, he couldn't help the uncontrollable urge to try and get that forgiveness. And it was a stupid idea, he certainly shouldn't even consider it, since it would probably be a badly received kiss and would end any chance he had with the mechanic, even if they were tiny. But you know... Clark Ibrahim was never afraid to execute stupid ideas. Of course, the last one he executed ended up severely hurting one of his best friends, preventing him from doing one of the things he loved the most, but there were no lives at stake now! Maybe his, if he were to consider what his older brother used to be, but, no! No lives at stake!

And it was with this assurance of the only trusting voice in his head, that the Ibrahim approached the smaller one, who just looked at him with a small smile and a confused expression. He just smiled back, taking a hand to his chin and lifting him up, simultaneously bringing their faces together until their noses touched. His breathing was heavy and he could feel his hands tingling, just as he could feel the rhythmic heartbeat of the youngest. Before proceeding, he looked at those chocolatey eyes again, surprised to find that the man was also looking at him.

Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and kissed the other one, still a little anxious about his response to the act. When he realized that he hadn’t moved, the man turned away regretfully, taking his hand to the back of the neck, and avoiding eye contact with the youngest, who just looked at him without understanding. Clark was sweating cold, the anxiety intensifying his shaking a little and causing a lump to form in his throat. Maybe he didn't like the kiss, maybe he was going to hate him for going out kissing him like it was nothing, maybe he was scared and so he didn't react, but that wasn't necessarily good, so...

"Oh, shit, I fucked it up!", The thought echoed in his mind, as he felt his breathing quicken, a whirlwind of hypotheses crossing his mind.

— Clark? – Edamura called, placing a hand on his shoulder.

— I’m sorry! I-I should have asked you before doing something like that, I know you were kidding, I just- – he didn't finish the sentence, since Makoto's moist and slightly cracked lips reached his before.

— It's ok! – he dictated as he parted their lips, getting closer to the pilot and placing a hand on his face, lightly brushing his beard. Makoto lightly stroked Clark's cheek with his thumb while watching him fondly. – It's okay, I was just a little surprised. I didn't think you were really going to kiss me! – He said with a smile, his accent pulled up again. The older man's cheeks heated up, and he finally looked into his friend's (Lover? It was just a kiss) eyes again. – When in doubt, it doesn't hurt to ask! – His warm smile touched the biggest one immensely.

Ibrahim nodded, holding it for a moment in Makoto's small hand, his eyes closed, appreciating the heat it emanated. He heard the water stir, and soon felt Makoto's body closer to his, the weight of his head on his shoulder and his free hand lightly caressing his arm. He soon wrapped him in a hug, and the two of them stood there, hugging each other, in their clothes in a pool, for a while.

Unlike the other moments of that night, when a touch that was even more intimate with Makoto made Clark's heart race, now the only things he felt were comfort and peace. Despite being exposed to the cold, he remained warm, the proximity of the bodies warming him, a smile on his face as he enjoyed the heat that settled in his chest and spread over his body, not wanting to leave that position. Just a few more minutes like that. It wasn't even so cold.

That was when the mechanic left a small kiss on his shoulder, taking the initiative to leave the position. Clark missed the heat, the icy water soon doing its job, and guaranteeing him another shaking crisis.

— I think it's time to leave, right? – damura said, sitting on the edge of the pool ready to leave the cover and go to a warmer place when his hand was held by the pilot's, who looked at him with an abandoned dog face. – Do you want to stay in the cold? Seriously? – he asked exaggeratedly disbelieving, getting a little laugh from the Ibrahim.

— Of course not, I just wanted to be with you more. Usually, when I'm in a pool with someone I like, the tendency is for me to use my princely skills to win over the beautiful lady! – the prince dramatized, following the movements of Edamura, who sat on the edge of the pool watching him with amusement. – It’s not always so… slow, i guess. – he ended simply.

— Yeah, but, unfortunately, the prince is awful with romance and was afraid to kiss his humble subject, and because of that, now he will be left in the infinity pool, dreaming with the lips of the beautiful young man who works for him! Am I right? – Edamura looked at him with irritating conviction, and Clark couldn't help but roll his eyes, inevitably smiling. Unfortunately, he was right. – But you know, – the man suddenly became shy, raising Clark's curiosity. – it's not like I'm going to deny you a kiss ... Not that I'm suggesting anything, far from me! It's just ... a reminder.

— Ah, good reminder! Really good, I will make good use of it! – The blue-eyed one exclaimed, not really sure if he would make good use of the reminder. And the minor noticed it, watching as it sank a little deeper. How can a guy as womanizing as he can't get a simple kiss?

Edamura sighed audibly and jumped back into the pool, right in front of Clark, who took a step back in reflex; however, the Japanese man prevented him from moving further, pulling him by the collar of his blouse and taking his lips, startling the man with the sudden act, who took a while to return the kiss. Edamura was soon in his arms again, his hands between Clark's messy, damp strands, pulling him closer, and seeking to deepen the contact. And, God, he was loving it!

Maybe it was the thrill of kissing someone after so long, but Makoto's body seemed to burn just with that simple contact. The butterflies in his stomach fluttered and his heart beat like a samba school drum, playing faster and harder with each little act of Ibrahim, losing the rhythm with each bite distributed over his lips. When Clark asked for permission to deepen the contact, he didn't think twice before giving in, allowing the eldest to guide him in that delightful dance.

However, the kiss was soon stopped, since they lacked air. They were panting, strangely hot, and flushed. Makoto smiled, leaning back against the edge of the pool. He pulled his hair back, receiving a curious look from Clark. He was very expressive, he thought, approaching and stealing a little kiss from him. He shouldn't be fraternizing with the enemy, at least, not like that, but since he was already breaking rules, he would enjoy it.

— So, – Clark began, leaning back beside him, both back in the same position they were in when they met that night. Thinking about it, Edamura looked at the sky again, now admiring how the pilot's eyes weren’t too far from matching that shade of blue. – How was it to kiss a prince, Mr. Edamura?

— Honestly, I should be the one asking this question. – He replied, again making Clark laugh, this time more restrained. – I kissed you, prince!

— Okay, okay, let's keep this part a secret for your sake! – Ibrahim replied while Makoto turned to face him, eyebrows raised in disbelief. – Imagine what a scandal it would be, a servant daring to steal the prince's lips?! It’s better to think that I seduced you. It will also be easier to believe since I am practically irresistible! – and as soon as he finished the sentence, the prince was hit with cold water, complaining soon after, while Makoto laughed at him.

— Clark! – Came a deep voice, which the lovers immediately associated with the older Ibrahim. A chill ran through Edamura's body, fearing Sam's reaction when he saw them in the pool. Well, at least he didn't arrive at a more compromising moment. – Clar- what the hell are you two doing here? – He asked as soon as he saw them, receiving an embarrassed smile from his younger brother and a grunt of shame from the mechanic.

— We fell. – Clark replied simply, scratching the back of his neck, while Makoto plunged in shame and cold water. But apparently, that simple excuse was enough to convince the organizer. It must have been something common, or maybe he just wasn't interested in what caused two people to fall.

— We have some things to talk about, so let's go. – Sam said, and from his tone, that was not a request.

With a sigh, Clark left the pool, following his brother, who was already heading for the elevator. The younger Ibrahim waved to Edamura, whispering "good night" and sending a puffed kiss to the mechanic. Edamura waved back, following him with her eyes until it was no longer possible. Her cheeks flushed and her chest warmed as he remembered the events of that night. Makoto was really screwed if he was forced to tell everything to the team, and honestly, he was no longer so attached to the idea of ​​deceiving those brothers ... well, just one of them.

He sat down on the edge of the pool again, reclining until his back touched the floor. Edamura looked at the sky, and the sky looked back. A few stars shone and brought a smile to the scammer's face. Singapore's sky might not have been the most beautiful he had ever seen, but it was certainly comforting. It reminded him of a certain pilot, whose eyes were similar in color to the sky, and who marked his stay in that country.