#led street lamps also die die die die

[deadboydyke]

For Christmas I want every LED headlight in the nation to die die die die die die die die

[istaricelebelasse]

Let this moment last - read here on AO3

Flutes and drums and bells rang out in a brilliant cacophony of music that twisted through the air like the steam that rose from the food vendors’ wares. The rich scents of sugar and sweet spices warred with pastry and the cheese that Narvi had a particular fondness for in an attempt to whet appetites and tempt buyers.

Everyone wore their best jewellery and clothes - some even wearing things which had managed to survive Beleriand and that shone with the subtle glow of Amanyar objects. Bright colours were everywhere, the brightest dyes and gaudiest combinations saved just for this day.

It was Mereth Ithil, a day in which elves and dwarves alike celebrated the first rising of the moon and the hope it offered. For those who had crossed the Helarcraxe it doubled as a celebration of their arrival in Beleriand, of that great trumpet call which Fingolfin had let out when land, not ice, was beneath their feet once more.

(For those who did not cross the Ice, those who had come in the ships, they celebrated for a different reason. They celebrated the return of their king, for it had been exactly a year since the rise of the moon when Maedhros was returned from Thrangorodrim. It was a silent celebration, but one that Celebrimbor found himself partaking in nonetheless.)

The whole city sparkled with silver light, from Feanorian lamps strung across the streets and clever glass lanterns made by the dwarves, to the paper constructions that had once decorated Doriath.

There would be dancing, and shows of skill, and singing, and everything that one could possibly expect from such a celebration in a city builds for craftspeople.

Celebrimbor had promised his first dance to Annatar, but it appeared that his love was running late.

It was unsurprising really, outside of the forge Annatar had the time keeping abilities of a cat. A particularly orange cat.

No matter though, not when he had darling Celebrian to keep him company.

She had demanded he dance with her, and how could he possibly deny his niece? Especially when she stomped her tiny foot and crossed her tiny arms and looked exactly like Galadriel (or Celebrimbor’s grandfather) in a snit.

He led her through the dance as best he could with her balanced upon his toes. It would never be classed as the most elegant of dances, but it made him smile and Celebrian release a stream of giggles.

Her purple skirt swirled around both of their legs, a froth of frills and petticoats.

It was the same dance that he had once danced with his own uncles, balanced upon their feet under the light of the Trees. A dance that had travelled from Tirion to Barad Eithel, and then carried from Gondolin and Nargothrond and Himring into Eregion.

His face hurt from grinning so widely, and he knew that Celebrian’s surely hurt the same.

It was almost a shame for the music to die down, but with it came a figure that Celebrimbor had missed.

Even if his love seemed more occupied with Celebrian than he.

“My Lady of Loveliness, might I steal your dance partner?” Annatar said with all due gravitas, as he bowed with a flourish more suited to Taniquetil than Eregion.

Celebrian giggled again and then, obviously channelling her mother, she tilted her head imperiously. “Perhaps. It depends what my Lord of Gifts has to offer in trade for my favourite uncle’s hand.”

“Perhaps the lady might be persuaded by a new bracelet?” Annatar waved his empty hand behind Celebrian’s ear and produced a delicate silver bangle, much to her delight.

“Hmm.” Celebrian pretended to ponder the offering, “Very well, my lord, but I shall also require at least one excuse to get away from a Council Session my mother thinks educational.”

“You have my word.” Annatar bowed deeply, a strange edge to his smile, “She will not be able to deny the validity of your excuse.”

Celebrian nodded as if such a thing was her due and passed Celebrimbor’s hand into Annatar’s.

“You are good with her.” Celebrimbor said softly, watching his niece dash away in a flurry of blue fabric to show her mother the results of her trade, the necklace Annatar had given already swinging around her neck.

“She is a sweet child.” Annatar replied, placing a hand on Celebrimbor’s waist, “Certainly little like that mother of hers.”

“I thought we agreed: no antagonising Galadriel at the festival.”

Annatar snuffed haughtily, “You decided. I made no such agreement. Besides, I doubt she can hear me.”

“If you say so. Just do not be surprised if she makes your life miserable in the next council meeting in revenge.”

“I should like to see her try.” The pout that graced his face was worthy of Celebrian herself, and Celebrimbor found he could not resist tracing the shape of his beloved’s lips.

“Come now, let us celebrate. Let us have one day where you do not think of the best way to annoy my cousin, and instead let us simply be.”

Annatar sighed as though Celebrimbor was asking him for a great favour indeed. “Very well. If you insist. Yet I did think though that I had been promised your first dance? How was it I found you dancing with another instead?”

“You were late.”

“Late!” Annatar’s hand flew to his heart, “I will have you know that we of the Maiar are never early, nor are we late.”

A glint of gold on Annatar’s finger caught Celebrimbor’s eye. It was not something he recognised. He blinked though and it was gone.

Perhaps it had just been the last rays of sun. Perhaps he was more tired than he had thought.

“And yet, despite that, you were still late.” Celebrimbor softened his teasing with a gentle press of his lips against Annatar’s pout.

He pulled away with a laugh before Annatar could deepen the kiss and took hold of his love’s hand.

“Come! We shall miss the dancing altogether if we do not cease talking!”

“A tragedy indeed.” There was no escaping the sarcasm of Annatar’s voice, but Celebrimbor chose to take him seriously and led him straight into a dance of Nargothrond.

“I’m glad you agree.”

He turned into the steps of the dance, a strange thought tugging his head that it was a different dance to that he had been doing previously. A thought that was swiftly forgotten as Annatar’s hands cupped his waist and his forehead rested against Celebrimbor’s own.

“I wish this moment could last forever.” Celebrimbor confessed softly, his breath mingling with Annatar’s. “This moment when we are safe and happy and at peace.”

“As do I, my love.”

They swayed together, ignoring the world around them. Just feeling the music and enjoying the presence of the other.

“You know,” Annatar eventually said, a sweet smile on his face that sent strange chills down Celebrimbor’s spine, “This could be real if you wanted. Just tell me what I want to know and everything you’ve ever dreamed of will be yours.”

[atiny-for-life]

Xikers Full Storyline Explained - Part 3

Masterlist

HOMEBOY

Unlike 'DO or DIE', 'Homeboy' does include elements of the main storyline (namely, the concept of the spirit orb), but it doesn't progress the narrative. However, as it is such a visually stunning music video with a wholesome core message, we'll still dive right in.

We open on a sick-ass shot of Hunter and one of the blue fiery spirit orbs we've last seen in 'Rockstar'. It circles him as he tells us repeatedly "We're a different kind", hinting at them no longer being fully human.

Hunter turns to part a blackout curtain which takes us to a semiarid warm temperate desert type of scene (it's desert-ish but there are leafy bushes and stuff - I don't know my climate zones)

Central to the frame are four of the members lounging on a loveseat and a couple of armchairs

While Hunter exits the shot, the spirit orb finds a home in the table lamp beside the couch, illuminating it

This is followed by one of the most easily debunked statements I've ever read:

After dropping that absolute bold-faced lie, Yujun pulls the string of the lamp which changes the daytime to the middle of the night

Delighted by this discovery, Hyunwoo swaps seats so he can play around with the lamp as well

He repeatedly pulls the string for a bit until the orb exits the lamp and we cut to a scene clapper belonging to the shooting of the 'HOMEBOY' music video which Xikers are producing while Yechan is directing

A small street-side was built in the middle of a field which Yechan exits as he raps and dances around

Following his verse, the camera swings to the rest of Xikers who're chilling in the grass

Since we've last seen Yujun, he seems to have discovered a mirror and found his way back to the real world which then, thankfully, changed his stance on their appearance. Good for him.

As they're picnicking, the spirit orb flies by above their heads which allows for a pretty wide shot of the same four members who were in the desert before

The spirit orb is now leading them on a little stroll away from the rest of the group

Based on the lyrics stated in the close-up of the four in which their expressions are contrastingly serious, my theory is that the orb represents Junghoon - hence also the line "Can't replace, HOMEBOY"

Reunited after their little walk, the entire group play around a bit more until Junmin spots the orb crossing the sky and points it out to the rest

They bounce after it, letting it guide them, trusting it blindly

We hard-cut to a close up of the entire group, though there's one spot notably empty. Junghoon isn't there. Their faces are grim, the colors are darker and more muted. The framing tells us something's wrong.

After all the lighthearted fun, we're being told a serious message: "Sometimes, the scathing looks might give you a hard time and hurt you / Keep in mind, you know that by your side, looking in the same direction, is us, here with you"

They all get up and the camera begins to track to the right, circling them as they tell us: "Let's go, now or never / Always, we're together"

We can now see the orb led them to the beach where it now returns to its spot between Jinsik and Yechan. The only empty space. Junghoon's spot.

After playing around until sunset, the boys sit by the sea shore to watch the waves and sky

Just then, the spirit orb returns to join them. While not present in his human form, Junghoon still spent the whole day with them.

[jazzythursday]

Prompts: Nightlight | Drifting | Dried (1489 words)

Wylan is tired

Nightlight runs off of the oil lamps and the club signs that line the streets, spilling out of open doors and casting the wet cobblestones in tones of yellow and gold.

Wylan is cold.

He drifts through the streets of the Barrel like a spectre, like he’s invisible. Like the cold canal water has seeped straight into his bones, and he shivers for too many reasons to count.

He’s not dead.

It’s an absurd thought to have, even more absurd because he’s so surprised by it.

I’m not dead. I think my father tried to have me killed. It didn’t work.

Jan Van Eck is not a man who takes well to not getting his way. If he’d wanted Wylan dead, Wylan has no clue how he managed to avoid it.

It makes him consider that this all might have been some misunderstanding. Maybe father hadn’t meant for him to die. Perhaps he had intended for Wylan to reach Belendt. Maybe his men were simply confused, or they could have been hired by some other party, someone else with a vendetta to settle.

Maybe, perhaps, could have. Who is he kidding? Miggson and Prior are loyal to his father, and no one else hates Wylan enough to even bother with killing him. How could they, when he’s barely left the house in years and his father has only ever exposed him to the public to parade him like a symbol of his good intentions as a humble family man, a single father and a dutiful Ghezenite.

No, this was—it had to be—there were too many coincidences, there were too many factors, and all roads led back to the same answer.

I’m not dead. I think my father tried to have me killed. It didn’t work. Over and over again. It didn’t work.

It makes a funny sort of sense, considering that the only goal his father has ever fallen short of achieving is Wylan himself. Eternal disappointment and failure, no matter how much he poured into Wylan, no matter how much he tried. Wylan failed his expectations as a son, and he failed his expectations tonight as well. It didn’t work.

His father always said his greatest talent is causing problems.

I’m alive.

Wylan is not, if he’s honest with himself, quite sure if that’s a good thing.

He might die of hypothermia anyway, if he doesn’t find somewhere to rest soon. He’s soaked through. His wet hair drips down his forehead and his boots squelch with every step. Already he feels close to collapse, weight dragging him by his joints and lungs wheezing from inhaling water and swimming for hours and also, probably, being nearly choked to death.

Weak, his mind whispers, what are you going to do with a life you’re not strong enough to live? Wylan is too tired to answer it, too cold to care anymore. A numbness deeper than the chill has been slowly setting in since the terror of Prior’s hands around his neck had first left him for exhaustion, and Wylan wants to sink into it like a blanket, protecting him from the harsh bite of wind and the dark night. If he’d cried, he hadn’t been aware of it, and when he touches shaking fingers to his face they come away dry.

He thinks of putting each foot in front of the other, walking as he has for hours, and nothing else. There are too many feelings, too many thoughts, and he has a hunch that giving into them now might just bring him to his knees right here on the pavement. Might finally break him. He clutches the straps of his bag in his hands like his life depends on it, like they’re the only things holding him up.

“Boer, buddy, no need to get handsy, you only need to ask nicely.”

“That’s enough, Fahey, you’re done for the night.”

Wylan stops, he turns to see a man being led out of a club by a bouncer, practically dragging him by the collar of his coat. The man grins like he and the bouncer are having no more than a friendly chat, hands held loosely up and top hat tipping to the side as he tilts his head.

“But the night isn’t done with me, Boer. You wouldn’t deprive her, would you? Me and the night, we have plans.”

“Not here you don’t. Go home.”

“But I’m feeling lucky! Kaz will understand. Come on, one more game, and then I’ll be out of your hair for good, on my honour.”

“Don’t speak of honour where none exists. Times up.”

With that, the bouncer pushes the man roughly off the step, only to stumble gracelessly into the street.

The thing is, Wylan may feel invisible, but his body is as solid as ever, and that’s proven to him as the man’s momentum sends him forwards and directly into Wylan. It knocks them both off balance, and they go careening downwards like a clumsy sack of potatoes. Wylan yelps, back hitting the ground with a harsh slap of wet stone and knocking the wind out of him. The man follows, falling just shy of collapsing on top of him, hands and elbows bracing against the slick ground and bracketing Wylan’s shoulders. He groans as Wylan’s knee jerks up and hits him, tangling their legs together.

His chest rises and falls in heaving and shaky pants. His shoulder hurts where it’d hit the ground, his satchel digs painfully into his shoulder blades. He’s been moving for so long, and now that he’s stopped, everything aches even worse.

Wylan stares up, stunned, and the man stares back. A sound that is not quite a whimper and also not not a whimper emerges, unbidden, from Wylan’s throat.

All at once, the man snaps back into action as if he’d never been still at all. “Sorry. Sorry. I’m—Saints, here, let me—” he pushes himself carefully off of Wylan and offers him a hand. Wylan, still too stunned to do anything else, takes it. The man pulls him up and then braces him as Wylan sways forwards into him, unsteady on his feet. His heart is pounding, his legs are jelly, and somehow, Wylan still finds it in himself to be embarrassed, because even in the low lamplight, the man is the most attractive person he’s ever seen, and Wylan must look like a drowned rat that’s been dragged through the mud.

He takes a sharp breath and it rattles in his chest, making him cough. The man looks at him with open concern, probably noticing for the first time the state Wylan is in. The bruises he’s sure wring his neck, the dark purple under his eyes and blue tinge of his lips.

“Are you alright?”

And, Wylan may be stupid and foolish, but he knows what the Barrel is like. He knows the kinds of things that go on here, knows that there’s absolutely nothing about this situation that’s advisable or safe. But Wylan is tired, and cold, and despite all efforts to the contrary, he’s alive.

And the beautiful man has kind eyes.

Wylan bites his lip, and shakes his head.

“Do you need some help?”

He does, doesn’t he? Yes, Wylan definitely needs help. But he doesn’t respond. This is supremely stupid, and he knows it. There’s no guarantee that kind eyes make a kind person, and there’s every likelihood he could be robbed for what little kruge he still carries and then dumped for dead.

Seeming to sense this, the man smiles, softer than the cocky grin he’d given to the bouncer.

“I promise that looked worse than it was, by the way. Boer likes to play, forgets his own strength. Ask anyone around and they’ll all tell you l have dodgy luck with the cards, but my other references will check out.”

Wylan nods, though he isn’t sure he quite follows.

“I’m Jesper,” the man—Jesper, and Wylan thinks the name suits him—says. “Jesper Fahey.”

“W—” Wylan coughs again, and his voice sounds as ragged and waterlogged as he feels. “Wylan.”

“Okay, right. Hello, Wylan. Now that we’ve been acquainted, need some help?”

“Why?”

“Well, I did accost you in the street. My fault entirely, by the way. Look, can I just—can I walk you anywhere at least?”

“I don’t have anywhere to go,” Wylan whispers pitifully. He looks down at his water soaked clothes. At the space between Jesper’s boots and his. His bottom lip is starting to tremble. From cold or the impending collapse of all his crumbling walls, he doesn’t know. He can’t make sense of anything beyond the cold in his bones and the sense that he is finally too broken to ever be fixed.

A hand squeezes his shoulder gently, and Wylan looks up and into the incongruously kind eyes of this strange but seemingly lovely man. Jesper Fahey.

“Okay, that’s—okay, we’ll sort that out first.”

[casyoo]

Advantages and disadvantages of LED street lamp holders

Principle of LED Street Lamp Cap

The integrated design of the heat sink and lamp housing of the LED street lamp head ensures that the LED is directly connected to the shell and dissipates heat through the shell's cooling wings and air convection, fully ensuring the LED street lamp's 50000 hour service life. Based on working 12 hours a day, its lifespan is also over 10 years, and maintenance costs are extremely low; The lamp housing is made of aluminum alloy die-casting, which can effectively dissipate heat, prevent water and dust. The surface of the lamp has been treated with UV resistance and corrosion resistance, and the overall lamp meets the IP65 standard;

The design adopts a single elliptical reflection cavity combined with a spherical solitary surface to control the light emitted by the LED within the required range, improving the uniformity of the lighting effect and the utilization of light energy, and highlighting the energy-saving advantages of LED street lights. Compared to traditional sodium lamps, it can save more than 60% of electricity.

The advantages of LED street lamp heads

The characteristics of LED street lamp heads themselves - the unidirectionality of light, no diffusion of light, ensuring lighting efficiency.

The LED street lamp head has a unique secondary optical design, which illuminates the light of the LED street lamp head to the required lighting area, further improving the lighting efficiency and achieving energy-saving goals.

The light source efficiency of LED street lamp heads has currently reached 110-130lm/W, and there is still great room for development, with a theoretical value of 250lm/W. The luminous efficiency of high-pressure sodium lamps increases with the increase of power, therefore, the overall luminous efficiency of LED street lamp heads is stronger than that of high-pressure sodium lamps; The overall light efficiency is theoretical, and the advantage of high-power LED street lamp holders is that the light efficiency of high-pressure sodium lamps above 250W is actually higher than that of LEDs.

The color rendering performance of LED street lamp heads is much higher than that of high-pressure sodium lamps, with a color rendering index of only about 23. However, the color rendering index of LED street lamp heads reaches 75 or above. From a visual and psychological perspective, when achieving the same brightness, the average illuminance of LED street lamp heads can be reduced by more than 20% compared to high-pressure sodium lamps (referring to the British lighting standards).

The light attenuation of LED street lamp heads is small, with less than 3% of the light attenuation in one year. Even after 10 years of use, they still meet the requirements for road illumination. However, high-pressure sodium lamps have a large attenuation, which has decreased by more than 30% in about one year. Therefore, LED street lamp heads can be designed with lower power consumption than high-pressure sodium lamps.

LED street lamp heads are equipped with automatic control energy-saving devices, which can achieve maximum power reduction and save electricity while meeting lighting requirements at different time periods. The Casyoo LED street Light head can achieve user-friendly functions such as computer dimming, time-based control, light control, temperature control, remote control, and automatic inspection.

LED is a low-voltage device, and the voltage driving a single LED is a safe voltage. The series of products have a single LED power of 1 watt, so it is a safer power source than using a high-voltage power source, especially suitable for public places (such as street lighting, factory lighting, automotive lighting, civilian lighting, etc.).

Each unit LED chip has a very small volume, so it can be prepared into various shapes of devices and is suitable for variable environments.

Long lifespan: Can be used for over 50000 hours, providing a three-year quality guarantee. The drawback is that the lifespan of the power supply cannot be guaranteed.

High light efficiency: Using chips with a capacity of ≥ 100LM can save more than 75% energy compared to traditional high-pressure sodium lamps.

Easy installation: No need to bury cables or rectifiers. Simply install the street lamp holder onto the lamp post or nest the light source into the original lamp housing.

Excellent heat dissipation control: In summer, the temperature is controlled below 45 degrees Celsius and passive heat dissipation is adopted, resulting in insufficient heat dissipation guarantee in summer.

Reliable quality: All circuit power supplies are made of high-quality components, and each LED has a separate overcurrent protection, so there is no need to worry about damage.

Uniform color of light: Without adding a lens, uniform color of light is not sacrificed to improve brightness, thus ensuring uniform color of light without aperture.

LEDs do not contain harmful metal mercury, unlike high-pressure sodium lamps or metal halide lamps that pose a threat to the environment when discarded.

Disadvantages of LED street lamp heads

The power of a single LED is low. To achieve high power, multiple devices need to be used in parallel.

Low color rendering index. The color displayed under LED illumination is not as real as that of incandescent lamps, which needs to be analyzed from the perspective of spectral distribution and is a technical issue.

Spot. Due to defects in the manufacturing process of white LED and fitting errors with reflective cups or lenses, it is easy to cause the problem of "yellow circles".

The issue of LED illumination uniformity: If secondary optical design is not carried out, the illumination of LED lighting products will be relatively concentrated, so secondary optical design must be carried out to make the light intensity distribution map form a bat shape.

The issue of LED light attenuation. Compared to low-power LEDs, high-power LED street lamp heads have much better light attenuation.

[solaridea2023]

Semi-Integrated-Solar-Street-Light

A Semi-Integrated Solar Street Light is a combination of two systems: Solar Panel and LED Street Light. The two systems are attached to an outdoor pole. The Solar Panel charges a rechargeable battery that powers the LED Street Light during the night. During the day, the solar panel converts sunlight into electricity and stores it in a rechargeable battery. The rechargeable battery then powers the LED light during the night. Semi Integrated Solar Street Lights are ideal for locations that lack access to conventional power sources or are exposed to extreme weather conditions. They are also beneficial for reducing electricity costs and cutting down on greenhouse gas emissions. 

Features

Economic: no need for electricity and wire layout construction, green and environment friendly.

Environment-Friendly: without extra payment of fees, people can get large quantities of electricity

Longer lifespan: scientific design and exquisite craft, solar street lighting system ensure a longer lifespan.

Higher stability: wireless controls and monitoring allow for smart dimming schedules to save energy.

Widely applied: widely used in new rural roads, urban arterial roads or slow lanes, branch roads, and road lighting in public places.

Easy Installation and Operation: it is convenient for site construction and installation without the need for power transmission or transformation systems.

Working Principle

Step 1: Before mounting on the pole, please take away the magnet iron sheet, without magnet: light on, with magnet: light off.

Step 2: The lamp will be off automatically for solar charging during the daytime.

Step 3: When the night comes. the lamp will be on automatically because of a brightness sensor inside.

Step 4: When someone comes near the lamp, it will be 100% brightness.

Step 5: When someone leaves away from the lamp for more than 30s. it will be only 30% brightness to save the battery energy.

Step 6: It is also available for time control with a schedule and center control with GPRS.

LifePO4 Battery

Over 2000 times cyclic charge-discharge, over 8 years life span; good performance at high-temperature resistance, eco-friendly.

MPPT Controller

Overall protection (over-voltage, over-current, over-charge, over-discharge…); regulate output power intelligently and adapt to varying weather

High-Efficiency Monocrystalline Solar Panel

More than 20% photoelectric conversion efficiency; snow/ wind load; 25-year progressive warranty.

LED Module

USA Bridgelux LED Chips, Lifetime over 100000 hours, High brightness and low light decay, aluminum lamp base excellent heat dissipation

Microwave Sensor

Automatically regulate the light source from full bright to dim mode according to the battery storage capacity, prolonging the working time of the light.

Aluminum Frame Structure

Complete aluminum integrated die-casting structure, anticorrosion, IP65 protection grade, and IK08 wind resistance rated， effectively isolating humidity, dust, heat invasion, and the strong load of wind.

[imtryingmybeskar]

Drabble 20 - Catfish. This is going back to the original character concept for Fish, but in a 1920s setting. He is a PI staking out a house.

Warnings for PTSD from war and associated symptoms, mentions of death, corpses, problematic drinking and the trenches of WW1. Word count: 951

Pale bulb reflections from the flickering lamps outside the drab tenement block glowed like misplaced halos upon the tarmac of the poorly lit street. Freezing rain was pattering on his fedora, and he pulled his collar up and huddled deeper into his trench coat to avoid its icy reach down his neck. His hands were stuffed into his coat pockets, trying to retain a semblance of warmth within his fingers whilst also feeling the reassuring weight of his revolver against his hip.

Not that he imagined he would actually need to use it tonight. This was a pretty standard case, bread and butter for a private eye. A wife suspected of infidelity. A husband with cruelty in his eyes and a quaver in his voice that spoke both of too much liquor and a desire to maintain his reputation at all costs. A handsome reward in his near future if he could prove that she was unfaithful. A story Fish Morales had seen played out a hundred times, though admittedly it was more often the husband that he was tailing. It always ended badly. With divorce, families torn apart, or people railing miserably against cages that they had created for themselves, all the more stifling for the brief freedom they had tasted. Once or twice, he suspected his findings had even led to murder. Though he wasn't overly keen on examining that particular hunch.

Tonight he was lurking in the shadows of a run-down apartment block, observing its equally shabby mirror image on the other side of the street. He had chosen not to drive - the nature of this particular neighbourhood meant that not only would a car stand out like a sore thumb, but he would likely be a target for the thieves that were even deeper in the darkness than he himself currently was.

A not-so-distant rumble heralded that the rain would shortly become much worse. His fingers twitched, and he briefly itched for the soothing burn of cheap whiskey. He used to pass the time in these stakeouts in just such a way - the contents of a hipflask or three his only companion during the long, dull hours of mostly observing very little. After a while he came to realise that he was drinking more for a lesser effect, but even more concerning than that was when he made the near-fatal discovery one night that excess of alcohol made him both quicker to anger and slower to react. The woman had indeed been seeing someone, and that someone was most unhappy when he discovered Fish had made him. If the man's gun hadn't jammed at that moment, he would surely have been killed.

Fish shivered at the memory, glanced up at the window he was monitoring. It was dark, with no sign of anyone coming or going just yet. Only the rain, tinted orange from a trick of the artificial light moved - running in rivulets down those panes of glass that were still intact. He was afraid to die. No one who came back from those pestilence filled death runs in France could be anything but. You could sort of get used to the notion that you would be cut to bits by machine gunners, your bloated corpse displayed grotesquely upon the barbed wire. Day after relentless day of being faced with your comrades meeting that very end would force you to accept the possibility. But it didn't make the actual concept any less terrifying, nor do anything to stop the loosening of your bladder as you crested those trenches into No Man's land.

Only four of them had returned. Himself. Pope. Ironhead. Benny. Redfly had nearly made it too, but succumbed to the sepsis that had crept in when his leg had been blown off by a German booby trap. He didn't speak to them much any more. They had moved on with their lives. Met girls and gotten married, the disparity between the populations of men and women a boon to those who actually made it back. Fish had one deaf ear and an unceasing carousel of nightmare images when he closed his eyes and counted himself lucky for it. His work helped him. He could be methodical, precise, lose himself in the gathering of information and allow the routine to help him hold on to reality and maintain a sense of self.

The flash of lightning was unexpected, and lost as he was in the past, it and the clap of thunder that followed melded with Fish's recollections so that he slammed his eyes shut and dug his fingernails into his palm hard enough to draw blood. It was done. It was gone. He wasn't there. He didn't have to go over the top. No, no, never again, not anymore...

He released his held breath in a long whoosh through his gritted teeth, forced more oxygen into his lungs and repeated. Over. Over. Over. Until he could once again hear the rain pattering upon his hat, feel it now too, against his skin as he turned his face to the sky.

He sharp turned to the right, the old military precision never quite able to leave his muscle memory and began to stride along the sodden, black streets. He would come back tomorrow. Resume his observations when the weather was less inclement. But for now...for now that whiskey was calling him to drown himself, to push those mud and corpse covered memories back down from where the noise and the flashes and the rain had forced them up, floated them to the surface of his mind. He shoved his hands deeper into his pockets, and once more took comfort from the proximity of his gun.

[ikeromantic]

Middle Ground

A Mitsuhide Akechi fanfic - approx. 2200 words. This scene occurs well after the events of the romantic epilogue. Fluff.

First: Mitsuhide and the Maiden

Previous: Bonding

“So . . . separate beds?” Mitsuhide’s wry smile was only a little bitter.

“Yes. I know it’s silly. I’d . . . I’d rather be in there with you.” The chatelaine, soon to be Lady Akechi, looked down, her expression a mixture of shame and defiance.

“It’s fine. I will have you all to myself soon enough. What is a night or two apart?”

She looked up without raising her head, trying to gauge his emotions.

Mitsuhide wasn’t having any of that. He took her chin between his finger and thumb and gently lifted until her gaze met his. “It is fine.” Then he leaned forward to brush a kiss across her cheek. With his lips almost close enough to touch her skin, he added. “Are you so eager to be in my arms again? Do you want to . . . test out the guest room? Or your childhood bed?”

He had the intended effect. She shivered and licked her lips. “You are so bad!”

“You are the one protesting our brief separation.” Mitsuhide pressed another kiss to her cheek and leaned back.

She crossed her arms. “You’re right. It’s just a few nights. But when we get back to the city -” a wicked smile turned her lips up at the corners, promising all sorts of fun.

“So forward, my little mouse. So eager. You make me wish we were home already.”

“That’s the idea.” She turned and threw him a saucy look. “Something to dream about.”

Mitsuhide chuckled. “Good night, little one.” Something to dream about indeed. He watched her hips as she walked down the hall, until she turned into her room and shut the door. She really had no idea what impact she had on him. He wondered if it was his practiced art of hiding his true emotion, or simply that she couldn’t see how beautiful she was. How desirable.

He went into the room and shut the door. It was so strange. The electronic hum of household devices. The cold fluorescent light from the street lamps in his window. Distant traffic sounds blending with barking dogs and strains of music. Mitsuhide felt suddenly very alone and very out of place.

Despite his refusal, the thought of spending one night, much less three, without his little one, felt impossible. A burden too heavy for him to bear. He needed to feel her in his arms, to fall asleep to the sound of her breathing, the beat of her heart. Her warmth grounded him in this strange place.

Mitsuhide gave a dry, soundless laugh. Who was the little mouse now?

Slowly, meditatively, he dressed for bed and lay down. He would embrace this world, different as it was from his own. He had to, because it was the one that gave birth to his beloved. And so, listening to the heartbeat of this small town, the viscous thrum of modern life, he drifted into an uneasy sleep.

Miyake and Sasuke arrived the following day at lunch. They met up at a local restaurant. Youko was friends with the owner and able to borrow a few tables in the back for privacy.

Minoru, the chatelaine’s often grumpy father, seemed to be on his best behavior. Not smiling, but distantly polite to the two newcomers. He thawed a little when his daughter threw her arms around each of the men in greeting.

No one said much as they ate. Youko and Minoru sat beside their daughter on one side of the table, glancing up at her strange friends. Sasuke, Mitsuhide and Miyake sat across from them, looking nervous.

It was Sasuke who finally broke the silence. He cleared his throat. “I understand your daughter told you about our time in the Sengoku. Understandably, you want proof. You have questions. We are here to give you what evidence we can.”

Minoru snorted. “What do you get out of this charade?” He gestured to Mitsuhide. “Is he paying you?”

Miyake looked as if he wanted to speak up, but Sasuke beat him to it. “No. I am here because your daughter is my friend.” He reached into his bag. “I know it isn’t much, but I brought my ninja kit as proof. These - these are smoke pellets. And that is a kunai. This is a sleeping poison, and this -” he went through the items, explaining what they were and how he made them. Detailed descriptions of the tools and materials he had available.

When Sasuke finished, Minoru looked thoughtful.

Youko smiled across as Sasuke. “You seem a very resourceful young man. And you are also the one that discovered these wormholes?”

“Yes ma’am.” Sasuke dipped his head, embarrassed by the compliment.

“It could just be you have a - a fascination with this stuff. Read a lot. Saw some movies,” Minoru said. His gruff voice held more than a hint of doubt. Even he didn’t buy his own explanation.

Sasuke nodded. “I could have. But even that would not yield the encyclopedic knowledge I’ve developed. I would go into greater detail, but I imagine you don’t have the underlying historical education to make use of most of the information I could provide. Unless . . . Are you a history buff?” His voice sounded different at the end, as if this question was important. Light glinted off his glasses, hiding his eyes. The air around him was charged, almost crackling with a sudden and unexpected energy.

“No. I can’t say I am,” Minoru replied.

“Hm, too bad.” The strange tension in the ninja disappeared as suddenly as it came.

Mitsuhide nudged Miyake. The warrior muttered something under his breath and then rolled his shoulders. “Alright, old man. I don’t blame you for doubting us. I’d think I was crazy too, or lying. But what Lady Akechi told you is true. She’s been living with my lord for the last few months. And it’s a good thing too. He smiles a lot more now. Eats too, and sleeps almost like a human.”

“Miyake,” Mitsuhide growled. “That’s not the kind of evidence they need to hear.”

“Sorry, but it’s the truth. And if you don’t mind me saying, well, even if you do, your daughter makes for one hell of a princess. She makes the servants happy to do a good job because she notices the little things. And the guards . . . they’d all die for her, and not just because Lord Akechi demands it. She’s kind and good to all of us. I don’t get to spend time at the castle, but I hear how she remembers birthdays and congratulates newlyweds and -”

Youko laughed, a sound Mitsuhide recognized. Much like his own little one, but matured. More elegance with just the same amount of joy. “It sounds like you have a following,” she smiled at her daughter.

The chatelaine blushed. “I really don’t. He’s exaggerating, mom. Really.”

“He is not,” Mitsuhide chided. “Though I don’t think that’s the kind of proof her father -”

Minoru interrupted, his gruff voice quieting the table. “It’s clear you’ve gotten to know her. My little girl.” He gave her a brief smile. “I am still . . . it’s a lot to take in. This wild story. But she stands by it and there is clearly - something true in it.”

His daughter hugged him. “I knew you’d come around, papa.”

He dislodged himself from her unexpected embrace. “I didn’t say I’m buying the whole story. Just,” he waved his hand, “some of it rings true.”

The tension at their table eased, and conversation began to flow more naturally. Youko and Minoru had a lot of questions, and were finally ready to hear the answers.

***

Kyubei followed Ranmaru through the thick forest undergrowth, barely able to make out the dirt path he led them down. This was supposed to lead to a safe house, one that Kennyo agreed to meet him in. He wished the demon-abbot had a taste for teahouses instead of abandoned forest shacks, but it could be worse.

He could be with Hideyoshi, hunting Motonari across the ports. Kyubei wasn’t afraid of pirates, but being on a boat . . . the constant roll of the ocean waves made him sick as a dog. No matter how many trips he made, he never gained any kind of tolerance for the motion. So this, the dirt and the bugs and the thick air under the trees, was a better deal all around.

“This is it.” Ranmaru stopped just before the path opened on a small clearing. There was a half-rotted shack ahead, once a shrine to some local deity, now fallen into disrepair.

Kyubei was surprised to see he wasn't’ the only one here to speak to the monk. Another familiar figure sat on the wooden steps outside the shrine. “Shingen?”

Takeda grinned up at him, pushing a lock of sweaty hair out of his face. “If it isn’t Mitsuhide’s maid!” He laughed. “Kidding, kidding! I just expected to see the kitsune out here himself.”

“He is otherwise engaged.”

“Is he?” Shingen’s smile was dangerous now. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with our missing ninja, would it?”

“If it does, I’ll send him your head,” Yukimura spoke up from somewhere to Kyubei’s left.

Ranmaru put his hands up, laughing as if this were all so silly. “It’s too early for threats. Come on! Let’s make some tea and relax. The abbot will be here shortly.”

Kyubei turned his head a fraction, just enough to see Yukimura lower his spear. “Tea would be good.” He ignored the younger warrior’s scowl as he followed Ranmaru to the shrine.

He didn’t sit, but stood near Takeda, resting his back against a tree.

Shingen, for his part, pretended to be fully relaxed. It wasn’t quite effective though. His brow held a waxy sheen, his eyes looked sunken and fevered. Worse, his breathing was labored. A rasp, harsh as a winter cough.

Kyubei watched him carefully. This was a bad situation. A dying man had fewer qualms than one that had to live with his decisions. He hadn’t realized Takeda was so bad off though, despite the reports he’d received. The Tiger of the Kai was legend. Not a man to be taken down by sickness. And yet.

“Don’t get any ideas,” Yukimura snapped, coming to stand beside his lord.

Shingen chuckled. “So protective, Yuki.” His laugh turned into a thick, unproductive cough. When he finally got control of himself, he directed his attention to Kyubei. “So. Where did your lord and my ninja go off to? And don’t tell me you don’t know. There’s too much tying their disappearance together. I’d rather not have to kill you today for lying to me.”

Another situation he wished he had his lord’s guidance. What information was safe to pass along, and what plans would the ripples of this conversation affect? Kyubei swallowed. “I suspect they have gone to visit the chatelaine’s home. 500 years in the future.”

Shingen nodded as if this was the answer he expected. “Sasuke asked me if I’d like to visit his hometown. He said - he said they could cure me.”

“And then he left without you.” Yukimura punched the shrine wall, causing the whole building to tremble.

Ranmaru poked his head out. “Hey! Careful or you’ll bring the whole thing down on my head!”

“Sorry,” Yukimura growled.

“If it is any consolation, I don’t believe Lord Akechi or Sarutobi left when they did intentionally. The information my lord left indicates the trip was meant to take place later. He was still . . . putting things in place for his extended absence.”

“That’s bull,” Yukimura grumbled, but he relaxed his grip on the spear.

They had no more time to talk it over as Kennyo’s shadow fell across the clearing. He came out of the trees like a spirit, the rings on his staff clinking. “It appears you found me. Again.”

Shingen grinned. “Well, old friend, I did have to hunt through every abandoned shrine in the province to get to this one.”

Kennyo snorted in disbelief.

“Ranmaru brought me,” Kyubei bowed. “It is a pleasure to see you again.”

“I have little time or patience for guests. Tell me what you want.” Kennyo crossed his arms.

“Your help with the false emperor.” Kyubei didn’t look up from his bow. “We both know Ashikaga is dead. The scribe we set up in his place, or the men around him, have gone astray.”

“I could care less. Let the exiled shogun harass the devil-king. Nobunaga and his pawns can go to hell.” Kennyo’s eyes were dark and full of anger. It radiated from him like heat from a fire.

Shingen shrugged. “Yeah, sure. I hate him too. But it’s not just him getting hit. These idiot daimyos in his retinue are conscripting farmers. Villagers. Innocent folk that should be left out of a power grab.”

The demon abbot’s eyes fell on his old friend. “And you believe this is a worse fate than what the Oda have in store for them?”

“I do.” Shingen’s gaze didn’t waver.

Kennyo’s shoulders shook and it took Kyubei a moment to realize the abbot was laughing. He shook his head. “You always were a fool, Shingen. But fine. I will tell you what I know. I don’t think you can stop what has been set in motion.”

Next: Double Dating

[babbushka]

Hi Mrs. Z! I hope you’re doing well, lovely. I wanted to request Flip teaching his wife how to drive. I imagine how patient and doting he would be looking after her while she masters this new skill. Thanks love! ❤️

A/N: I’m sorry to say this my dear anon, but there is nothing patient about Flip Zimmerman when it comes to driving, lol! But, I hope that you enjoy this chaotic ficlet, even if it isn’t exactly what you had hoped for!

(2.3k, cw: swearing/cursing, arguing, mentions of stabbing, blood, extremely unsafe driving practices, Flip making his girlfriend cry but for only like 2 seconds I promise it’s not really angsty lol) 

If Flip had to think about your flaws, he knows he would come up with a pretty short list. There’s not much that you can’t do, especially when you put your mind to something. He has always thought this, let the record show, he thinks you are capable and strong.

He also thinks you are an absolutely fucking nightmarish driver.

Bracing himself with what he has decided can only be called the “jesus!!”-strap on the passenger side of your car, Flip tries to hang on as you tear through the roads. There’s too much happening all at once, he’s got a million things he wants to say, but as you run yet another red light, all he can manage is to shout out a panicked, “Slow down!!”

“I can’t slow down! You’re bleeding all over the fucking place!” You’re just as panicked as he is, which is a much bigger problem because you are the one currently trying to navigate rainy roads in a two-thousand-pound death machine.

It is true, yes, that he is bleeding all over the place. He may or may not have gotten stabbed in a chase that ultimately led to nothing on a big bust that one of the rookies fucked up for the squad. However, he wasn’t so sure that that meant he wasn’t fully capable of driving. He had wrapped himself in a compress of damp towels and plastic-wrap, and he had wholly intended to take the keys when you threw what could only be described as a fit at the state of him.

Which is how Flip finds himself in the very rare position of being the passenger, with you behind the wheel, driving like a bat out of hell.

“Oh my god – you can’t just run a red light like that – who the hell taught you how to drive ketsl? You’re a maniac!” You barrel through another intersection as the windshield wipers are going a mile a minute, and Flip abandons the strap to light up his sixth cigarette of the ride.

And then, you turn to him with a deep scowl, and throw it right back in his face as you point out one of the biggest regrets of Flip Zimmerman’s life, as you remind him that, “You did!”

“I’m going to die like this. Do you know how embarrassing that’s going to be, honey? I’m a decorated officer of the law, I served two fucking tours in Vietnam and I’m going to die because you can’t – watch out!” Flip has to brace himself again as you swerve around a corner too sharply on wet roads, the tires screeching as you burn rubber underneath your wheels. “You’re so fucking lucky you’re pretty, you know that? Pretty girls like you don’t go to jail like they should for bein’ a menace on the fuckin’ roads. If I were in a better frame of mind I’d give you a ticket – no, worse than that! I’d lock you up, house arrest, no more drivin’ for the rest of your days.”

“Okay fine, you drive then.” You snap, throwing your hands up with exasperation, abandoning the wheel entirely, “If you’re going to just bitch the whole time you can do it.”

“Ketsl!” Flip yells as he grabs the wheel so that the two of you don’t go crashing into a street lamp, “Jesus you’re gonna kill us. How’d you even get your fucking license anyway? Bet you smiled so pretty at the schmuck at the DMV and batted your lashes. You’re a menace, I can’t believe you.”

Yes, he was the one who taught you how to drive. Or at the very least, he’s the one who attempted. He remembers it as if it were only yesterday, and tries not to think that he’s watching his life flash before his eyes…

                                                        ~~~~~~~~

You had been waiting for him on your front porch when he came pulling up to the curb one day after work. Dressed real smartly, you bounded over to the driver’s window and he rolled it down enough that you could lean in and give him a big wet kiss.

“Hey sweetheart, what do you want to do today?” Flip had asked, starry eyed that he got to call you his girl. He had a couple plans in mind for the evening, but he always liked to ask you first, because your input mattered more.

“You can’t laugh.” You started off by saying, which by all accounts should have been Flip’s first clue that it was going to be a stressful day.

“Why would I laugh?”

“Because I was hopin’ you’d teach me how to drive.”

You look too hopeful for Flip to say no flat-out, but he really wants to. He really really wants to say no. But he’s a gentleman, or at least he tries to be, so he tries to find a polite way to say it, and eventually settles on, “…You sure about that?”

“Yeah! C’mon it looks real easy, and you’re a great teacher and you love me so much and I thought that it would be nice.” You’re determined, and he loves that about you in just about every other circumstance, as you continue on and on, “You know and then maybe if I get my license I could get a car and you wouldn’t have to go waitin’ on me all the time. I could pick you up from work, take you out to dinner.”

“But I like waiting on you and picking you up and taking you out to dinner.” Flip points out as he reaches through the window and pinches your nose playfully between his fingers, gives your face a little shake.

“Please Philly? Please won’t you teach me?” You pout and give him your best doe eyes, batting your lashes at him in the way that always gets him to say yes, and he sighs.

He brings you back to his house, and gets out and calls Jimmy, who he somehow manages to convince to bring his car over. Flip drives a stick-shift, and he can already tell that would be a nightmare in itself, but Jimmy drives an automatic, which he has a feeling is going to be easier.

You’re too excited to be learning that you don’t even question it, happily climbing into the passenger seat and marveling at all the dials and numbers on the dashboard. Flip slides into the passenger seat and hands you the keys.

“Okay, this here’s an automatic car. That means you don’t have to worry about shifting gears too quickly, and can focus on just controlling the car.” He explains, and you nod.

“How come we aren’t in your car?” You ask offhandedly, and Flip scratches at his goatee.

“Because I like my car.” He replies truthfully.

“Rude.”

“First step, turn the car on and check your mirrors.” Flip ignores the remark and tries to be encouraging as you turn the ignition and the engine rumbles underneath you. You jump a little, letting a happy laugh escape your lips at the marvel of automotive technology, and Flip tries not to be patronizing. It doesn’t work that well, “Very good, you’re doing great, you’re a natural. My girl, the natural.”

“You’re so mean to me why do I put up with you?” You chuckle, not wanting to feel like a dog who learned a new trick, even if that is sort of what it felt like.

“Love you,” Flip apologizes with a kiss, and checks to make sure the coast is clear before instructing, “Put the car in reverse, and slowly lift off the brake – ”

Either you have a different definition of slow, or this is going to be a lot harder than Flip thought, because his stomach is swooping up into his throat as you go speeding down the driveway, foot almost entirely off the pedal.

“Sorry!” You immediately slam on the brake, and Flip’s head smacks forwards against the dashboard, making you wince as your entire body tenses up, “I’m sorry, slowly, right got it, slowly.”

This should have been Flip’s second clue.

His patience manages to last for three entire minutes, before he just can’t take it anymore.

You’re out of the drive way now, having successfully avoided hitting the mailbox, and are now making right turns around the neighborhood, except that you really aren’t grasping how slow slow really is, and Flip’s seriously worried someone��s porch dog is going to be in major trouble.

“You have to slow down before you turn!” He grits his teeth, his foot instinctively pressing on a brake that isn’t there, and he wishes in the back of his head that he had rented one of those student driving cars as he fists a hand into his hair and bites the inside of his cheek, “Are your shoes filled with lead? What’s the matter with you? Who have you ever been in the car with that drives this fast?”

“You always speed like this!” You point out, but Flip doesn’t want to hear it.

“Yeah, on the highway! Not in a residential fuckin’ neighborhood – you know maybe that’s what you need, let’s get on the freeway, c’mon make a right here.” Flip instructs, and you let out an exasperated sigh and do as he says.

Ten minutes later, Flip is certain you’re going to drive him over a cliff, and it shows.

“Pull over – you know what, just fuckin’ – pull over. You don’t need to learn how to drive, okay? You don’t have to do anything from now on but sit there and look pretty, and eat some snacks. Okay?” He’s not shouting, not exactly, but his voice is raised with panic and irritation, patience completely gone out the window.

“Okay.” You reply, voice small, as you put on the flashers and hit the brakes, gravel flying everywhere underneath the tires as you pull onto the shoulder, away from the free-way.

Flip lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding, and rubs at a pounding headache that formed, as you get out of the car and begin to walk away. Confused and concerned, Flip immediately wrenches open the door of the car and follows you, his tension and panic giving way to an altogether different fear when he notices you wiping at your eyes.

“Are you crying?” Flip demands, his voice a little too harsh, and you wince from it.

“No.” You scowl at him, your eyes absolutely filled with tears that keep welling up, clinging to your lashes.

“Aw ketsl don’t cry – ”

“I’m not fucking crying.” You cry, before throwing your hands up in the air in exasperation and defeat, “Sorry I’m such a shitty unteachable terrible awful driver.”

Flip feels a dagger go through his chest, he doesn’t think he’s ever made you cry. Never, not once, in all the time he’s known you, and now here he is, feeling like the biggest schmuck in the world, because he lost his temper.

Approaching you gently, Flip pulls you into his arms and kisses the top of your head, kisses all over your face, at your cheeks and chin.

“Hey, no one said any of that.” He whispers, rubbing his cheek against yours, trying to get you to calm down.

“You didn’t have to.” You sound so glum, and he hates himself for it, because it’s his fault.

“Look at me?” Flip grabs your cheeks in between his hands, squishes them every so slightly as he looks you in the eye and says seriously, “You are a great person, with many, many talents. And driving…like anything it’s all about practice. That’s just what you need, some practice.”

“It was a stupid idea in the first place, I don’t know what the fuck I was even thinkin’.” You try to shake him off, but he’s stronger than you and won’t let you go that easily.

“You were thinkin’ that you’d like to be independent and I don’t blame you.” Flip realizes, chewing on his lip. It was the 1960s now, women were starting to drive in greater numbers and you wanted to be one of them, you didn’t want to be some helpless damsel not able to get herself around. As much as Flip wanted to be the fella to take care of you, he couldn’t fault you for wanting to take care of yourself, so he sighs out a gentle, “Let’s give it another go? Will you drive us back to my house?”

“’Kay.” You hear the sincerity in his voice, and you nod.

“That’s my girl.” Flip kisses away those unshed tears, and leads you back to the car, opening the driver’s door for you.

“If you yell at me again though, I’ll let go of the wheel and you’ll have to fuckin’ deal with it.” You threaten, and Flip only chuckles, not thinking you’d ever mean it.

                                                       ~~~~~~~~

At the hospital, you sit on the edge of his bed and reach for his hand. Flip gives it to you, and you pull it to your lips, pressing a kiss to the wedding band. Those days seem so far away now, and really, you are a good driver. You are.

“I’m sorry.” You sigh, “I’m just worried about you. I always get worried when you show up at home bloody like that.”

“I shouldn’t have yelled, that was wrong of me.” Flip shakes his head, an amused smile on his lips. God it really was a good thing you were pretty, wasn’t it?

“Think I just need a little more practice?” You crack a grin, biting at your lip and echoing a sentiment that he had shared years and years ago.

“Yeah, we’ll start with a couple right turns as soon as I’m free to go.” Flip replies, and you huff out a laugh.

“I hate you, you know that?” You kiss his ring again, rubbing your cheek against his palm.

“What was that? I couldn’t here you, come a little closer…” Flip’s hand cups your cheek, winds into your hair a little as he guides your face down down down to kiss him.

Eyes closing, you press your smiles together, knowing that when he’s discharged after his pain killers start to wear off, when you drive home it’ll be a far calmer affair.

                                                       ~~~~~~~~

                                                       ~~~~~~~~

@mochabucky @sacklerscumrag @artsymaddie @bitchydecisions @direnightshade @reyloaddict55 @thembohux @kylorenswhxre @sunflowersinthesnow @babayagakeanu @safarigirlsp @rennasiance-mama @steeevienicks @the-unmanaged-mischief @materialisthicc @hswritingrecs @miabelay11 @han68000 @rosi3ba3z @chapterhappygirl @loverofallthings @groovetoob @bxnnywriting @glassbxttless @angel-bxby3 @smallgirlbigpersonality @cowgirl1234 @lovelyyy-luna @2000andwhat @raddo1975 @cornmousequeen

[secretshinigami]

making the most of it

Author: @realtruesuccessor For: @yagami-raito-kun Pairings/Characters: Near | Nate River/Yagami Light, background Linda/Matsuda, Near | Nate River, Yagami Light, Linda (Death Note), Matsuda Touta, Watari Rating/Warnings: Teen and Up Audiences, No Archive Warnings Apply, just typical superhero/action movie stuff Prompt: Near is a superhero, Light is a supervillain, they get set up on a blind double date and have to roll with it to protect their secret identities Author’s notes: This was super fun to write! Thank you for the amazing prompt! I hope this is what you were looking for, and that you enjoy it!

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

Nate River had never given much thought to the idea of romance. He had experienced fleeting crushes in the past, but never any serious feelings, and he had never even been kissed at the ripe old age of eighteen. There were much more pressing issues in his life besides the lack of social milestones, so Nate wasn’t too concerned about his deficits in romantic experience. 

  Unfortunately, his roommate Linda did not have the same opinion. 

  “You’re going to die alone if you keep this up.”

  Nate looked up from the small toy robot that had been occupying his attention before Linda opened her mouth. “You’ll have to be more specific.”

  Linda sighed, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’ve never seen you go on a date,” she said, as if that clarified anything. 

  “So?”

  “So, you’ll end up alone and unhappy unless you find yourself a nice man.”

  Nate raised an eyebrow, and he lifted his hand to curl a finger around a strand of wavy white hair. “You’re making an awful lot of bold assumptions.”

  “Am I wrong?”

  Nate paused, took a moment to consider the brief crushes he had in the past, and then admitted a small concession. “Not about my preference for men, but about my impending lonely fate? That remains to be seen.”

  Linda approached Nate’s spot on the floor, where he was surrounded by tiny action figures. She sat down next to him, and picked up a small gray object from the circle of toys around him. “I’m worried about you, Nate,” she explained. “You’re always holed up in your room, messing around with these toys, but I think you should get out more and I have the perfect idea to help with that.”

  Eyeing the object in her hand, Nate uncurled his finger from his hair. He reached over and plucked the tiny gray circle from her grasp, then stuffed the item into his pocket. “Your concern is noted,” he said, perhaps a bit too sharp. “Unfortunately for you, I disagree.”

  “Can you hear me out, at least?” 

  “You’ve given me no compelling reason to do that, so the answer is no. Please leave me alone.”

  Silence rang throughout the apartment, echoing with the sting of Linda’s hurt feelings. Nate didn’t feel sorry in the least; in fact, he felt entirely justified. After all, Linda had barged into his room and insulted his lifestyle. He was in the right to be short and snappy with her.

Nate watched impassively as Linda’s face fell. His roommate’s usually bright smile turned into a sullen frown, and her blue eyes became downcast. If Nate had been a different sort of person, he might have been moved by this display, but as it was, Linda’s wounded emotions did nothing to stir his heart or change his mind. 

  “Well, that’s disappointing,” Linda muttered, her voice small and hurt.

  “I have no idea why you’re suddenly so invested in my romantic life, but whatever your reasons, you brought this on yourself by disparaging my hobbies.”

  “Okay, okay, I guess you’re right. I should have gone about this in a different way.”

  “Yes, you should have, but there’s no changing the past and no use lingering on this topic anymore. Weren’t you leaving?”

  With a heavy sigh, Linda got up and left Nate to his own devices.

  ~

  The city was dark at night, lit only by the occasional street lamp.

  “Where is the tracker now, Watari?”

  Near made his way through the gloomy city streets, dodging the warm circles of light cast by the lampposts. He stuck to dark, shadowy corners like glue, crouching behind parked cars and navigating narrow alleyways. 

  A voice crackled over the communication device in Near’s ear. “One block away, Near,” Watari said. “The location is pinging from that abandoned grocery store on the corner.”

  As Near approached the store, he tugged his dark cowl down over his hair and eyes, shielding them from view. The streets were mostly empty, but he didn’t want to risk being identified, even by the vagrants who frequented this part of the city in the dead of night. After all, his white hair and gray eyes were rather distinctive. If Near ever let his guard down, it wouldn’t take a genius to eventually trace the actions of the vigilante Near back to the identity of one Nate River.

  “Alright, I’m standing in front of the store now.”

  “Yes, thank you. The tracker you placed on that nasty fellow is still pinging from inside that building.”

  “Hmm, I really do hope this doesn’t end in physical violence. You know how much I hate fighting.”

  “I’m aware of that, and I also know that you’ve had a very long night already, but at least Lidner will be pleased to hear that you were finally able to put some of her training to good use.”

  Near made a face. His mouth twisted into a displeased frown. “That’s not funny.”

  “I wasn’t trying to be funny, I’m being completely serious. She’ll love to hear that you fought off a villain with a stick.”

  “First of all, this isn’t exactly a stick. It’s a bō,” Near corrected. “Second of all, perhaps you’re correct. She seems to puff up with pride whenever I acknowledge her skills.”

  “Yes, people tend to do that when you pay them a compliment.”

  Ignoring Watari’s snark, Near began the task of sneaking into the dark building. He crept forward, towards the front of the store, keeping low to the ground. There wasn’t any light coming from the windows or the door, but Near had learned from experience that one could never be too careful when dealing with villains. The building seemed lifeless and empty from the outside, but there could be traps set inside - or even the villain himself, tracker and all. So, Near was sure to be stealthy as he peeked into the store from a low, dirty window.

  The interior of the old shop seemed to be exactly what Near had expected. Mostly empty, save for a few shelves, and thick layers of dust covering every visible surface. Clearly, the store hadn’t been active in many years. It was the perfect place for squatters to take refuge - or for mysterious villains to set up a hideout. 

  “Best entrance route?” Near asked, eyeing the door in the corner of the shop, which appeared to lead somewhere deeper into the building. If Near had to guess, he would say that the door probably led to some sort of old office or employee break room. The door was dark and heavy-looking, with a shiny silver knob that could have easily been rigged with a villainous trap. 

  “You mean, besides walking right through the front door?” Watari teased.

  “Watari, please, this is serious.”

  “Alright, alright, I understand, I’m searching for an aerial view now.”

  As Near waited for Watari’s next message, he took another look around the interior of the store. None of the dust seemed to be disturbed; the floor and the shelves all appeared to be completely untouched by human feet or hands, at least for the past few months. 

  Still, Near considered, the room could be monitored with hidden cameras and microphones. Best that I don’t use the main entrance unless there’s no other option.

  “According to the aerial view, there’s a skylight towards the back of the building,” Watari announced. 

  Near frowned, and reached up to rub a strand of his own white hair between two fingers. “I don’t see a skylight from my current location, so the skylight must lead into the back room of the store. I can skip the main shop area entirely.”

  “Well, that works out nicely.”

  About fifteen minutes later, Near found himself on top of the roof, breathing heavily from exertion. “I’m never doing that again,” he managed in between gulps of air. 

  “Never say never, Near.”

  After catching his breath, Near approached the skylight and peered through it. The bright moon illuminated the room beneath the glass, casting everything in a soft white glow. Through the skylight, Near could see the back room of the shop, which appeared mostly empty, save for a wooden desk. 

  “I’m entering the building now,” Near said, reaching to unlatch the skylight.

  “Wait, Near!” Watari cried out, at the exact same time an unfamiliar voice whispered: “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

  Near whipped around, bringing up his bō staff in a fluid motion.

  A masked man stood before Near, with his gloved hands raised in mock surrender. 

  “Who are you?” Near asked, his tone dark and serious. 

  The man smirked, then nodded to one of his hands. A familiar, small gray object rested between the fingers of his red leather-covered hand. 

  The tracker.

  “Shit,” Near muttered under his breath.

  “Looking for this?” The man asked, sounding carefree and quite pleased with himself. His voice was slightly deeper than Near had imagined, but it suited him just the same.

  On impulse, Near jabbed at the mysterious villain with his staff.

  As though he moved through the shadows, the man expertly evaded Near’s attack. He dodged, twisted, and kicked out. His dark boot landed in the center of Near’s chest, pushing the hero back. 

  Near stumbled back, tripping over his own feet. His ankle hit something behind him, probably a ledge of some kind, and suddenly, he was falling. He felt a sinking feeling in his stomach as the world warped around him. 

  Like something out of a movie, Near found himself falling in slow motion - legs bending, glass cracking from somewhere behind him, his body descending further and further into darkness. 

  Before Near could even process what was happening, the villain turned away. His silhouette was illuminated by the bright backdrop of the moon. He glanced over his shoulder as Near fell through the skylight. His brown eyes sparkled with the dual flickers of triumph and pride.

  The villain’s smug grin was the last thing Near saw before darkness enveloped him completely. 

  ~

  “I can’t believe you finally roped me into this nonsense,” Nate River said. 

  Linda and Nate sat on a bench together, as the sky darkened and the air became thin and cold. She wore a coat and a light scarf over her dress, while he was dressed in only a collared button-up shirt and comfortable pants. The bright yellow bulbs from the nearby carnival casted the two roommates in a soft glow. Despite the warm light, Nate shivered, and Linda looked around frantically; her foot was tapping incessantly against the hard concrete of the sidewalk. 

  “Yes, well, this nonsense is going to do wonders for your social life, if those silly boys ever show up,” Linda said, glancing down at her phone with a frown. 

  Nate rolled his eyes. “First of all, my social life is perfectly satisfying as it is, thank you very much. Second of all, I’m sure they’ll be here any minute now.”

  “I guess you’re right about that second thing,” Linda conceded, pointing towards a pair of young Japanese men who were quickly approaching their bench. “And we’ve already been over the first thing.”

  The two men arrived at their bench, and Nate got a good look at both of them for the first time. One of the men, whom Linda greeted as ‘Matsuda’, had dark hair and big brown eyes that suited his handsome face and gentle expression. The other man was introduced as Light Yagami, a close friend of Matsuda’s and a fellow Japanese exchange student. Light’s hair was significantly lighter than Matsuda’s, and although his eyes were a similar shade of brown, his gaze spoke of a sharp intelligence that far exceeded his bumbling friend.

  Nate knew those eyes.

  That attractive pair of brown eyes had smirked at him, only a few nights ago, on a moon-drenched rooftop.

  “Light Yagami, was it?” Nate clarified, his eyes traveling over every inch of Light’s pretty face. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  After a beat, Light smiled at Nate. His smile was polite, but had an air of deceptive falseness about it. There was something lurking underneath the surface of that mask - some dark and dangerous secret that only Nate could truly see. 

  “It’s a pleasure to see you too, Nate,” Light said. His voice was familiar to Nate, just as deep and attractive as Nate remembered.

  Unlike Matsuda, Light spoke English with a near-perfect American accent. 

  As Linda pulled Matsuda towards the carnival, Nate fell into step beside Light. The pair of them walked in silence for a bit, each of them calmly observing their surroundings. Nate noticed that the lights from the carnival complimented Light’s warm brown hair very well; his pretty locks seemed almost golden under the electric buzz of the soft outdoor string lights. Not even Linda’s incessant babbling could distract Nate from his careful observation of Light Yagami’s lustrous hair.

  Suddenly, Light tore his gaze away from a crowd of people near the food vendors. As the group he had been watching moved on, Light turned his head to face Nate and looked at him - truly looked at him - for the first time. 

  “Are you cold, Nate?” Light asked, glancing down at Nate’s chest. 

  Nate could see that Light’s preppy jacket protected him from the slight chill of the night air. After all, Light wasn’t shivering at all, whereas Nate couldn’t help but tremble at the brush of a breeze against his pale skin. He really, really couldn’t help it - he had always been sensitive to temperature changes, ever since he was a young child. It wasn’t a particularly debilitating condition, but it could sometimes be annoying. 

  Such as, right now.

  Nate’s brain was suddenly filled with images of Light offering him his jacket, like a scene straight out of a cheesy romance movie from the 1980s. 

  “No,” Nate said, like a liar. “I’m not cold.”

  “If you insist. In that case, perhaps you’re simply eager for this double date to be over with, so you can go home?”

  Nate raised an eyebrow, suddenly very thankful that Linda and Matsuda had moved out of earshot. “That’s awfully observant of you.”

  Light shook his head, and a small smile crept onto his face. “No, I’m just projecting a bit, I think.”

  “Ah, I see. So, you don’t want to be here either.”

  “That’s correct. Matsuda wanted me to come along though, and I had no good reason to say no. If I had alternate plans, trust me, I wouldn’t be anywhere near this place.”

  “You couldn’t have said that you were studying, or something like that?”

  Once again, Light shook his head. He glared at a flimsy-looking carnival ride. “Matsuda is my roommate, and one of my oldest friends from back home in Japan. We also share many classes together, and he knows my schedule almost as well as he knows his own. He knows I don’t have any exams or major assignments coming up anytime soon.”

  “Hmm, I see, that must be difficult.”

  Light nodded. 

  A moment of awkward silence stretched between them, before Light broke the silence with a question.

  “And what about you, Nate? Why are you really here, if you’re not actually interested in dating?”

  “Similarly to yourself, I was compelled by my roommate to attend this little meeting. She made it clear that Mr. Matsuda wanted to go on a date with her, but he insisted on a double date, and so she needed me to step in and serve that role.”

  “That makes sense,” Light said, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Matsuda has always been anxious about romance and relationships with women, so he thought more company might take the edge off of his nervousness.”

  Nate glanced over at Linda and Matsuda, who were standing a few booths away, at one of the carnival games. Through the crowd of happy fairgoers, Nate could clearly see the wide smile on Linda’s face. Matsuda said something to her, and she threw her head back and laughed with abandon. Nate recalled Linda’s pleading face from earlier, when she had practically begged Nate to go on the date with her, and her appearance now was certainly a stark contrast to that face.

  Unable to stop the small smile from creeping onto his face, Nate turned away from Light. “Well, they seem to be having fun, so I suppose this night isn’t a complete waste of time.”

  Light nodded, eyeing one of the nearby game booths. “Perhaps we can have some fun as well?” He asked, gesturing to the booth.

  “You can’t be serious. I thought you didn’t want to be here.”

  “True, I’d love to just go home right now, but I can’t without letting my roommate down, so I might as well make the most of this night, right?”

  “I suppose you have a point.”

  With that, Nate and Light approached the game booth.

  Ten minutes later, Nate was holding a giant fluffy white bunny - a stuffed animal that Light had won at the silly dart game. 

  Nate frowned, staring down at the offending rabbit. “You’re better than me at darts,” he grumbled.

  Light chuckled. “No, I think I just got lucky,” he said, looking at Nate with a curious expression on his face. “Regardless, I hope you like it. Are you going to give it a name?”

  “Yes, as a matter of fact, I am,” Nate said. He stared at Light’s face, observing the other man with a careful attention to detail. “His name is Kira.”

  There was a beat of silence.

  “Oh? You figured that out rather quickly, didn’t you?” 

  Nate nodded, then glanced away. Light’s expression and words told him everything that he needed to know.

  “And? What are you going to do with Kira, now that you have him?” Light asked, his voice laced with double meaning.

  Scoffing, Nate hugged the bunny closer to his chest, and continued to avoid Light’s gaze. “I’ll turn him over to the proper authorities, of course.”

  It was Light’s turn to scoff. “You won’t do that.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because Kira is helping society, and also, you’re wildly attracted to me.”

  Nate almost dropped the stuffed rabbit. He turned towards Light, and a soft pink blush spread across his cheeks. His eyes went wide.

  “Kira kills people,” Nate managed, cursing himself.

  “Only rotten people,” Light corrected. “This world is rotten, but Kira is making it better, so good people can live happy and peaceful lives.”

  Nate shook his head. “Murdering a few corrupt politicians and businessmen isn’t going to magically make the system just or right. All it does is make Kira a murderer.”

  “Hmm, well, if Kira is simply a murderer and a villain in your eyes, what about that vigilante? Near, wasn’t it?”

  “Near doesn’t kill people.”

  “Yet, the police are still hunting him with the same energy that they use to hunt Kira. Isn’t that interesting? I imagine they’d be grateful to receive any hint of Near’s true identity, no matter the source of the information.”

  Well, that was a threat.

  At that exact moment, Linda rushed up to them, holding a plate full of funnel cake. “Come on, guys, Matsu bought me this cake and I can’t eat it all on my own! Share it with me!” 

  Nate looked from the cake, to Light, and then back to the cake. After a moment of hesitation, he reached up and grabbed a small piece of fried dough from the plate. He held the piece up towards Light’s lips. 

  “Here,” Nate prompted. “Have you ever tried funnel cake before?”

  Light’s eyes widened, and he stared at Nate in disbelief. “No, I haven’t,” he admitted, shocked and quiet. 

  Nate held the cake up a little closer to Light’s face, and Light leaned forward slightly, meeting him halfway. When Light took the cake into his mouth, his lips brushed lightly over Nate’s fingers. The lips were warm, and felt almost electric against Nate’s skin. Nate resisted the urge to shiver. Something deep and primal was stirring inside of him, something that he couldn’t really place, but certainly didn’t feel familiar. 

  Something that made him want to be closer to Light Yagami, despite the knowledge of his date’s true identity. 

  From that point onwards, the date proceeded normally for the most part. Nate and Light attempted to act naturally around Linda and Matsuda, saving all double-life talk for later. After all, neither of them wanted to duke it out in front of their roommates, or the dozens of other citizens strolling around nearby. So, they made more polite conversation as Linda and Matsuda dragged them around to different booths and rides.

  Finally, the night seemed to be reaching an end. Linda and Matsuda had snuck off somewhere, presumably to say goodbye to each other properly before parting ways. Nate and Light were left alone, near an empty patch of grass. 

  An awkward silence hung between them, not for the first time that night. Nate wasn’t exactly sure what to say, or if he should say anything at all. He couldn’t exactly leave the carnival and go turn Light over to the police - for one, he didn’t have any physical or concrete evidence that Light was the villain known as Kira, and perhaps even more concerning, Light had vaguely threatened to out him to the cops if he was ever caught. All of which put Nate in a very uncertain position: he knew the identity of the villain Kira, but wasn’t in any position to do anything about it.

  Light cleared his throat, which drew Nate’s attention. When Nate glanced over, he saw that Light was staring at him with another odd expression on his face, a look that Nate couldn’t really identify. 

  “What?” Nate asked, shifting uncomfortably, and clutching the stuffed bunny tighter against his chest.

  “I--”

  Whatever Light had begun to say was cut off with a sharp BANG! 

  Nate nearly jumped out of his own skin. His upper body grew very tense, very quickly, and he shuffled closer to Light. 

  On what must have been some kind of protective instinct, Light reached out and put his arm around Nate’s shoulders. “It’s okay,” Light said, suddenly calm and soothing. “It’s just the fireworks.”

  “Fireworks? Linda didn’t say there would be fireworks.”

  “Maybe she didn’t know? I take it you’re not a fan of loud, sudden noises, huh?”

  Nate shook his head. “I’m not a fan of them in the best of times, and these happen to be the worst of times, so you can only imagine how I feel in this moment.”

  Light winced, and pulled his arm away. Nate found, quite strangely, that he missed the subtle warmth and pressure of Light’s hand on his body, even though it had only been there for a short while.

  “I want to apologize,” Light said softly, barely audible over the continued explosions from the fireworks. 

  “For what?” Nate asked, genuinely confused.

  “For your tumble through the skylight. I know you seem to be fine now, but I’m sure falling through a window and landing on a hard floor hurts like hell at first.”

  Nate blinked. “Yes, it does. And no, I don’t accept your apology, because I don’t believe you’re actually sorry for what you’ve done, or for what you continue to do.”

  Light didn’t respond to that, only gazing at Nate in an impressed silence.

  Suddenly, Linda and Matsuda reappeared, both of them pink-cheeked and out of breath. Before Nate and Light could say much more to each other, they’re both pulled away by their respective roommates, pulled apart, and brought home.

  ~

  At home, in the quiet and darkness of his room, Nate felt a strange mixture of relief and disappointment. 

  A sudden buzz lit up his phone, and he glanced down without thinking - only to see a text from an unknown number splashed across his screen. He read the message silently, and then smiled softly to himself. 

  Nate knew that he would eventually be the one to bring Light Yagami to justice, regardless of the cost to himself. But he still had to gather evidence to prove his case, and in the meantime, well...why not have some fun and make the most of it?

[crimefightingspiderguy]

to be so lonely

Summary: “Hi could you do angst spider man x female reader but with fluffy ending please and thank you.” (REQUESTED BY @icequeen2021)

Warnings: Torture is mentioned and injuries do occur. Spoilers for Spider-Man: Far From Home and Avengers: Infinity War & Endgame.

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Word count: 4,494

A/N: Just as a precaution, I did not proofread this because its almost 4 a.m. here and I really just wanted to get this out to you guys! I hope the requester and everyone else enjoys this, I had a lot of fun writing it. I also wanted to note that this occurs post Spider-Man: Far From Home so since I don't really know who took charge of the Avengers after Tony and Steve's deaths, I just assumed it was Sam/Falcon/Captain America for the purpose of this fic. Lastly, I'm aware that mutants have yet to be introduced into the MCU, but my guess is that they are going to claim Monica (and now Wanda) from WandaVision as mutants, so I'm running with it in this fic.

“Hello?” Peter’s groggy voice came through the darkness. You stood in the doorway, light now beaming into the room, waking Peter.

“Oh, thank goodness. I had… a bad dream. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

You were one of the newest Avengers and when Peter Parker’s identity was revealed to the world, Sam told you to help him go into hiding, at least until they were sure it was safe for him to stay at the Avengers compound. You were (as you put it) cursed with the ability to see the future. After Hydra had gotten found out about the time stone, they sent you in as a spy to try to find out more about it. You studied under Dr. Strange for a couple of months before he even let you see it. One night, he let you even practice with it. Unfortunately, your genes were predisposed to be mutated, all they needed was the right amount of radiation to kick start them. To touch the stone, was to mutate your genes, triggering your curse. Your new mutation was being able to see into the future. Dr. Strange ended up finding out that Hydra sent you and realizing that they would only turn you into a weapon, he helped you fake your death and sent you to the Avengers, changing your identity and living under the radar. Your mutation was the perfect thing to help Peter while on the run, since you would constantly be one step ahead of your enemies. Peter had the ability to sense danger coming his way, so he thought he would be fine on his own, but you could see farther out into the future and see multiple paths that could occur based on one small choice, so Sam wouldn’t even listen to any of Peter’s protests to having you come along. It’s not that he didn’t want you to come along, because you two were friends, but he didn’t want to put you in extra danger of being seen by Hydra or getting hurt because of him.

“A bad dream or a glimpse into the future?” Peter asked, alert now.

“A bad dream… I think. Let me look again.” You tried to focus on your current path. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. But there it was, a small branch that when followed lead to the dream you had. The only choice that had to be made was you turning on the lights to check on Peter, tipping someone watching you off that you were in fact staying here. You quickly opened your eyes and ran out to the living room. You shut off all the lights throughout the whole empty apartment you were “staying” in. You had been moving from place to place so when you found an apartment that was prepped for open house showings, the two of you decided to hang out there until you saw a showing being held and then you would tidy stuff up and ditch the place. Unfortunately, it appeared in this distant future, whoever was following the two of you got a tip that an empty apartment was all the sudden getting activity regularly.

You went back into the room Peter had taken, “Get in the closet, now.” Peter rushed out of the bed and did as he was told. You got into the closet next to him and pulled the door shut. You glimpsed into the future and quickly saw that the person was on their way, they would be there in minutes and one of the places they would in fact check was the closet. Just then, Peter’s skin lit up in goosebumps and you knew it was too late to move him.

“Can you tell who…” Peter began to whisper, but you quickly put a hand over his mouth, seeing they were about to walk into the front door. Luckily, you had locked it, so they would have to take a minute to pick the lock, so they don’t draw suspicion with a loud bang of breaking the door down.

“I’m going to do something; you have to just trust me. Whatever happens, whatever you hear me say, don’t leave the closet. You understand?” you spoke out low and fast.

“But…”

“Do you understand?” You looked him dead in the eyes, time was ticking.

He nodded. You grabbed one of his extra web shooters from his bag in on the closet floor. You slowly pulled the closet door open and shut behind you, taking one more look at Peter, putting your finger over your mouth as a reminder for him to stay silent. You moved over to the bed Peter was moments ago sleeping soundly on, leaned over to the window above it and opened it wide. You stood on the bed, positioning your body to make it look like you were trying to escape out the window. You stood in your position and waited, silently shooting a web out the window to the building across the street and tossed the shooter underneath the bed. You heard the door finally unlock and slowly creak open. They were most likely assuming the two of you were asleep and had no inclination he was there. After seeing no signs of life in the living room, he began heading for the bathroom. Looking into the future to see if your plan would work, you saw a small issue. If he took his time searching through each room, Peter would eventually sneeze and expose himself. You needed to get the guy out of there now. You looked over to the lamp on the side table on the right of the bed. You kicked it as hard as you could, causing the bulb to shatter on the hard-wood floor as it landed. You cussed in a loud enough to hear whisper and positioned yourself back half-way out the window. The man was now bursting through the bedroom door, first looking to the lamp that caused the sound, then to the person who was clearly trying to escape him.

“Shit Peter, go, go, go! Get out of here!” You shout out to a non-existent Peter outside of the building. “I’ll be fine, go now!” You put on the most panicked look you could while you whipped your head back to the man who was just now putting two and two together. He ran over to the window, yanked you off the ledge and looked outside. He saw the web hanging from the other building across the street, blowing silently in the wind, the web-shooter himself nowhere to be seen. The man’s grip on your arms painfully increased, making it easy for you to keep the pain-filled, scared look on your face.

“That was a very stupid move missy. I’m sure if you’re important enough for him to take on the run, he won’t be leaving you behind for long.” He turned out the window and yelled, “You hear that Spidey? You want the girl, you’ve gotta come and get her.” While his head was turned from you, you looked into the closet just barely able to see Peter’s eyes from the moonlight shining in and across the shutters of the closet. You shook your head slightly as you saw in the near future Peter putting his hand on the door and opening it to come save you.

“He’s not coming back; you might as well save your breath.” You said to the man as he brought his head back inside.

“Why wouldn’t he come back for you? Isn’t that his whole shtick? Saver of the defenseless?”

“Because I told him not to come back. I told him to not look back, so he won’t.”

“What makes you so sure he’ll do what you say?”

“Because if he truly loves me, he won’t come back.” You knew that no one knew of your relationship status with Peter, especially considering no one even knew you were an Avenger. So even though you were not dating Peter, they didn’t know otherwise, and you were going to use that to your advantage.

“Ahhh, so you’re his little girlfriend. That’s why you’re with him. We was starting to think you was an Avenger. We’ll this is even better because I’m sure some torture will get you talking. We won’t even need him to come find us, because you’ll lead us right to him.”

“I’d rather die.” You spat in his face.

“Oh, don’t worry, you will. But not until we find our spidey.” He smiled a nasty smile and yanked your arm out of the socket as if it was nothing, and you gave a choked-out scream.

He tossed you over his shoulder and walked out of the apartment. You couldn’t see into the closet anymore, but you could see into the future and Peter was in absolute shock, but he did as you asked and stayed put until the next morning, when he could be sure the apartment would no longer be watched.

At some point you had been knocked unconscious, or maybe you were drugged? It was hard to tell with the throbbing in your head making your memory foggy. You woke up to realize you were tied up to a chair, in a dark and empty room. You blinked rapidly trying to clear your hazed mind, and when it began to work, you looked into the future to see what was coming. You had three paths, all waiting on someone to make the next move. One path was the man from before coming in with a crowbar and breaking your bones with it, one by one, until you told him what he wanted, which you never did, resulting in you dying of internal bleeding. You shuddered at the thought, hoping your other paths would be better. The second was Peter tracking you down and coming to save you. This led to the death of both you and Peter. Your heart began to race, the image of Peter’s cold and unmoving body lying on the ground in an unnatural twist was harder to look at than the image of you weeping over him, only to meet the same fate. The third and final path was you getting out of the ropes and being able to fight your way out of the place. This third path had an uncertain ending, because while you would be able to get out of the chair, it wasn’t clear if you’d be able to fight off all of the people standing around outside of the room you were held in.

You quickly thought through all of the moves that Bucky had taught you from his years as a killing machine. There were a few that you could pull of successfully on Bucky himself, leaving you some hope that you would be able to fight them off, but looking at the sheer number of people outside that would run to attack, it’s hard to imagine they wouldn’t be ganging up on you causing a more powerful attack than even Bucky could prepare you for. You looked around the room for an escape, literally anything. You saw it in the corner to the left of you. The way out. You looked into the future after deciding that was how you would escape, and surprisingly the outcome was clear and successful. You quickly kicked off your shoe and rolled off your sock on the floor. Taking your now free toes, you stuck them into your shoe and slid the folded pocket knife you hid in the too big for you shoes in-between your big toe and second one. You pulled it out, holding onto it for dear life with your foot. You put your leg to the side of the chair, pulling your foot up into the air and back towards your hands as much as you could with the ropes constraining you. You were just able to grab the edge of the folded over knife and once you had a grip, flipped it open and began sawing away at the ropes. You saw that the men outside were unmoving and weren’t planning on interrogating you for at least another hour. The sun was setting, and they were hoping that Peter would show up in the dark to try and save you. When they were to realize that he in fact was not showing up, they would barge in and pounce on you. However, Peter not showing up depended on you getting out of the building. You saw that he was nearby in the future where he tried to save you. He was only going to save you if he sensed you needed to be saved. If you could get out of this room, you wouldn’t set off his Spidey-sense, and he would be safe, you would both be safe.

Once the ropes fell to the ground, you were able to cut your torso free and stand to run to the corner that held a vent big enough to crawl through. Cutting off the long sleeve of your shirt at the shoulder, you made a sloppy sling for your dislocated left arm. Crawling wouldn’t be a cake walk with only one arm, but you had to make do. You quickly screwed open the gate with your knife and silently pushed it to the ground and begun to crawl on your hand and knees through the ventilation system. You looked forward in time to see where this would lead you and how quickly. The sun was setting faster than normal it felt, as the dark approached, so did a twisted fate if you couldn’t get out fast. You had lucked out this time, and you actually couldn’t believe what you were seeing. About 10 feet ahead of you, the vent led out to the back of the building. They were keeping you in a room used to store things at cool temperatures and the air vent was used to release hot air in the summer and suck in cold air in the winter. You began crawling as fast as you could muster without making too much sound.

When at the end, you looked with your mind to see if danger lurked in the shadows outside the vent, but no one was near. The vent led to the back of the building where there were no other doors or windows, no way for Peter to get in and find you. Or so they thought. You slipped your hand through the slits in the grate to work at the screws on the outside. You could feel the cold rusty metal slicing your hand open, but you could care less right now as turning back would result in a lot worse than a few infected cuts. After about 5 minutes of awkwardly poking, prodding and twisting at the screws, you were able to kick open the grate. You slid outside and stood up, quickly making your way to the tree line. Peter was nearby, you saw his location before, but it was hard to distinguish it in the vast forest surrounding the building.

Looking around, seeing there was no one in sight you quickly let out a whisper of his name, “Peter.” You hoped it would be enough to catch his attention if he was within his hearing range. You waited a moment but saw nothing. You moved forward a few feet, hoping he was maybe just farther into the forest, “Peter.” You repeated. This time you saw something, not in real time, but seconds before it happened. Him whipping his head around, hearing your footsteps, your breathing, your heartbeat, the soft whisper of his name leaving your mouth. Him swinging tree to tree to get to you as quickly and as quietly as he could manage. As if he was delayed compared to the image in your mind, he landed softly next to you moments after you saw him do it in your mind.

“You’re okay.” He whispered, pulling you into a hug, trying to mind your slung arm.

“For now. But we’ve got to go. There is still a 50/50 chance they’re going to catch us when they realize in about 2 minutes that I’ve escaped.

“Well then you better hold on tight.” He lifted you up with ease and rested you on his hip, making you look like an awkwardly large toddler in his arms. He kept one arm around you as you wrapped your legs and good arm around him. He was off in seconds, swinging the two of you from tree to tree and once out of the forest, building to building.

Once you were at a safe enough distance, Peter stopped on an apartment rooftop and took the two of you under the cover of a tarp covering up empty wooden crates from any bad weather.

“We need to get you back to the compound. Have Bruce heal you up.” He said gingerly touching your shoulder.

“We can’t go back, you know that. We haven’t gotten word from anyone yet that the coast is clear, and it’s obvious that you’re still on plenty of people’s hit list. I can fix it, just give me a second.” You looked around the roof to see if there was anything you could jam your arm into to try and pop it back into place. Behind where you were hiding was a door leading down into the apartments. You stood up and headed over to it. Peter followed you, watching and listening to the surroundings for anything suspicious. You pulled the sling off your neck slowly and balled it up. You stuffed it in your mouth, causing Peter to give you a confused look,

“What are you doing?”

You answered him by slamming your arm into the wall, popping it back into place, letting out a now muffled scream into your shirt sleeve. Tears welled up in your eyes, but you quickly wiped them away with the cloth you pulled out of your mouth. You took a deep breath in and out, trying to calm yourself.

“There. All better.” You opened your eyes and gave Peter a weak smile as he stood, mouth open and face pale.

“Holy shit.” He whispered.

“Close your mouth honey, you’ll catch flies.” You push his bottom jaw up and head over to the edge of the rooftop. You looked down to see there was a fire escape a few feet below you. Looking ahead of your time, you saw the possibilities of entering each window attached to the escape. Only one of them would lead you to an empty apartment. The owners gone for the whole week. They will have a first aid kit waiting for you to tend to your hand with.

“Peter, can you lower us down to that escape?” You called over to him softly. He joined you at the ledge and nodded when he saw what you were referring to. You held onto his side again as he climbed with his sticky hands and feet down the wall and onto the escape. You grabbed his hand and led him down to the window of the currently empty apartment. You carefully slid the window open and snuck in, Peter silently following behind you.

“The owners won’t be back for a week. As long as we leave the place as we found it, they won’t be any the wiser that we were here.” You whispered to him as he shut the window. “I’m going to go find their first aid kit and get some antibiotics on my hand” You held out your gashed up hand to show him and you saw him wince at the sight of it. He was surprisingly sensitive to seeing your injuries. You figured at this point all of the Avengers were desensitized to stuff like this.

It was just months ago you all were fighting off the mad titan Thanos, you expected nothing to shock anyone at this point. It was strange getting blipped away. One second you were standing next to Dr. Strange watching him give over the time stone, the next you simply weren’t there. You couldn’t see it coming. This was the only thing you couldn’t see coming, because it was too random. You had too high of a chance of not getting blipped, just as you had too high of a chance of getting blipped, so you couldn’t have known. It was horrifying and the bases for most of your nightmares nowadays. You and Peter were the same age, which is why you think Dr. Strange took pity on you regardless of you being a Hydra spy. They had taken you against your will and forced you to serve them. Kids tended to be the best type of spy because it was harder to be suspicious of them. But because you were the same age, when you both came back, the two of you had sort of relied on each other to help one another adjust to the new lives you had to accept. The world had moved on without the two of you, while the two of you were stuck in the same spot for years. It was nice having someone who understood, especially someone your age. That’s why you were okay with risking your own life to help Peter run away. Because that’s what the two of you have silently agreed to do for months now. Protect each other, have each other’s backs, help each other through the nightmares, through the adjustments, through the pain.

Opening the medicine cabinet in the bathroom, you saw the tube of antibiotic cream. You grabbed in and closed the small door, jumping when you saw Peter standing in the mirror behind you.

“I thought you would’ve seen me coming.” he chuckled.

“I was distracted. Thinking about…” You trailed off, suddenly becoming more interesting in washing your hands to prep them for the medicine.

“The blip?” He finished for you. You didn’t even have to answer, you silence spoke for you.

“If it never happened, I wonder if we would be here right now.” You couldn’t help but grasp at lost futures that you couldn’t see.

“Maybe. I mean, Mysterio is the real reason we’re here and I feel like he would’ve come around eventually.”

“But I wouldn’t be here.” You pointed out.

“Do you regret coming with me then?” Peter asked, looking away from you now, hurt evident on his face. “Because you can leave for the compound at any time, I won’t stop you if it’s what you want.”

“No.” The word came out without hesitation, and it caused Peter to snap his attention back to you in the mirror where you finally met his eyes. “I just mean that we probably wouldn’t have gotten as close as we had. I mean yeah, we’d both be Avengers and would know each other, but I would’ve stayed locked away in the compound, and you would’ve barely given me a second thought. I wouldn’t be here because you wouldn’t have trusted me enough to let me come along. I wouldn’t be here because even if you would have trusted me to come with you, I would’ve still gotten kidnapped and I wouldn’t have been able to get out of there without getting caught because you probably wouldn’t have come back for me. I might not have been able to see those futures, but after you watch as much of the future as I have, you start to put the pieces together that one small change would’ve been catastrophic.”

“I like to think that whatever we chose, if it wasn’t a conscious choice or something out of our control, it was fate.” Peter said, “We might not have made the same choices to get us to this exact scenario, if the blip hadn’t happened, but Sam probably would’ve still ordered you by my side, regardless of my hesitation. I probably would’ve not let you get taken in the first place because I wouldn’t have trusted your judgement as much when it came to taking on that guy. We were meant to go through this together and I would’ve stuck by your side same as now.”

You chuckle at the last part about taking on the guy, you wanted to change the subject. The idea of you not getting to where you were friendship wise with Peter was a painful thought. You loved him. It was hard not to. The idea of a timeline where you didn’t love him was hard to even think about.

“I could’ve taken him on if I wanted to.” A smug smirk played on your lips

“Oh, I know you could, that’s why I was so surprised when you just let him take you. Why did you?”

You turned around to face him, “Because I was trying to get him away from you.”

“You could’ve died, you know that, right?” Peter says, taking the medicine from you and applying it to a clean cotton pad from the first aid kit, rubbing it over your hand. The images of you and Peter dead on the ground of that building flash through your mind.

“I know. But so could you have. I’d rather die and give you a head start than for you to die.”

“Why? My life isn’t worth risking yours for.”

“Because if I don’t have you… I have no one.” You admitted.

“Well, that’s not true. You have the whole team.” Peter tried to reassure you.

You shook your head, a sad smile on your mouth as you spoke, “I’m not close to them like I am you. Will you guys be sad? I’d like to think so. Will it greatly alter your lives if I was gone? No. After a couple of weeks, maybe even months, everyone would move on, including you. But if you were to die, I’d have no other friends who could bring me back to caring enough to go on. I have no family. I just have you. I’d rather die myself and know that eventually you’d be able to go on with your life, than let you die knowing that if I had just looked at a different future, I might’ve saved you. Knowing that I’ll never have anyone like you again in my life.”

“If you died, I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself.” Peter said, a stress crease forming between his eyebrows. “I wouldn’t be able to move on because I never got to tell you that I love you.” The last part came out as a whisper as his hands set down the medicine and cotton pad. Bringing them to hold your cheeks.

You hesitantly brought your hands up to ghost over his. You might be able to see the future, but you didn’t see his confession coming. Turning your head slightly to kiss his palm, you whispered on his soft skin, “Then you understand.”

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[drwcn]

#9 【Carbon in the Steel】

cql au: everyone is an orphan except wwx; dark!twin jades

The Brothers Lan 

There was once a little house, on the outskirts of a farming village beyond the tiered rice fields south of Meishan, far, far away from Cloud Recesses. Both Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji remembered that house. It was the house Father had built for Mother, and it was there that they were born. 

It sat at the base of a hill where many tall bamboo trees grew, and in the garden, there had been gentians, indigo and violet, that bloomed beautifully every summer. 

Lan Xichen would dream sometimes of that house and of the wonderful days in those early years. 

Father, look! 

Excellent form, A-Huan. Very good. Much improved. Now, remember to keep your balance on your front… 

These days he could no longer recall Father’s face. His voice though, Lan Xichen still remembered as clear as a bell. On the other hand, his brother Wangji did not remember much of Father at all; instead, it was Mother’s smile that he could never forget. 

Mother, can A-Zhan and I stay with you and Father tonight? 

P’ease, Mo’her. 

Lan Xichen remembered hugging his baby brother like a doll and strategically weakening his parents’ resolve using his baby pout and big puppy eyes. A-Zhan was always a trooper, so cooperative, so excellent at looking like a perfect toddler.  Stoic though. So stoic for a baby. What a weird kid. 

We had a bad dream. 

Bad dweam.  

Those were obviously lies. They never had bad dreams then; those would come much later, when their reality became worse than any nightmare they could ever imagine.

Jiujiu never needed to tell them that Mother and Father were dead, or what death was. They’d seen plenty of creatures die: the village’s cattle they butchered for the new year, the spinster's kittens that didn’t survive the winter, and the pheasants they caught and roasted for A-Zhan’s birthday. 

Father had been a lifelong vegetarian, so eating meat didn’t agree with his stomach, but he never enforced such rules on his sons. In fact Father didn’t enforce any rules on his sons, except to show kindness where they could and to be true to their hearts.  

Father probably didn’t anticipate just how difficult it was to be kind when the world had been so wholly unkind. Nor did he anticipate that he would die in such a violent and sudden manner without even so much as a goodbye.

I don’t remember what were the last words Father said to me. Wangji would confess to Xichen one day. I don’t even remember what Father looked like. 

They were by the marsh catching lobsters with jiujiu when it happened. Mother suddenly appeared and spoke words that were foreign and frightening - Gusu Lan, cultivators, siege, pursuit, escape. Go. Now. She didn’t hug them or kiss them. Lan Xichen remembered Wangji reaching up towards her to be picked up and the confusion and heartbreak in his eyes when she pushed him back into jiujiu’s waiting arms.   

A-niang...

At a certain point, jiujiu must’ve done something to them, because neither Wangji nor himself remember any part of their journey out of that village. When they woke up, they were somewhere high up and deep in the mountains. His little brother had looked at him and he had stared back and they both knew then that their parents were dead. Curled in their jiujiu’s arms, they cried themselves into another fitful sleep, and all the while, jiujiu didn’t wake up once, too exhausted by the endless days of travel. 

To them, jiujiu - like all adults - was old, but it was not until they grew up that they realized that Zhao Zhuliu at the time of their parents’ demise had been no more than twenty years old, barely more than a boy himself.  

~

Life with jiujiu was quiet, but after some time, they were able to find a sliver of happiness. 

Zhao Zhuliu was a quiet man, always had been, and that didn’t change just because he now had two young children on his hands. But he loved them, his sister’s only blood left on this earth; by god, he loved them beyond reason. 

Jiujiu was not a talker, but he was never distant, and though he was strict in his training of their cultivation and their swordsmanship, he was never harsh. So yes, life was quiet, but at least for a while there was a roof over their heads and food in their belly, and they never had to wonder where they would be tomorrow…

When jiujiu failed to return from his night-hunt, Lan Xichen knew that something had gone terribly wrong. 

Lan Xichen was the older one; he was thirteen. Practically an adult, he told himself. If jiujiu never came back, then he was just going to have to take care of Wangji. 

Whatever it takes. 

His brother was not a needy child, but when he turned eleven, he seemed to have found his appetite and ate everything Xichen could get his hands on. Fishing was the easiest and hunting a big game lasted them a while if he could preserve it just right, but even if he collected berries in the mountains and wild herbs in the forest, he still needed grains, still needed new clothes for the winter, and still needed oil to light a lamp at night so Wangji could continue to practice his calligraphy. 

He did try; you must know. Lan Xichen did try to do things the right way, but there was only so much money he could earn by book-keeping at a shop, or running errands for merchants, or even waiting tables at an inn. He was a child, and desperate, and nobody would pay him a dime if they could get away with a nickel. 

It didn’t take long for Xichen to learn that the fastest way of earning money was often the most unsavoury and that he wasn’t above reaching for those means. There were no lengths Lan Xichen wouldn’t go to keep his brother safe and happy, no asset within his arsenal of skills and attributes that he wouldn’t hone and weaponize to make himself stronger. He got good at stealing, got great at cheating, and grew accustomed  to killing. Every so often...if there were other offers available, well...Wangji would never need to know. 

Morals do not matter if Wangji went hungry. I can’t let Wangji go hungry.

And, once a year, Lan Xichen would buy a box of osmanthus pastry, like the kind Mother used to make for them - flakey and fragrant, rich but not overwhelming - and he and Wangji would sit together under the stars and finish the box all in one go. 

“Happy birthday, didi.” 

Chewing slowly on the osmanthus pastry, Wangji would smile, and it would all be worth it. 

“Thank you, xiongzhang.” 

~

Then, three years after jiujiu was taken, a startling news broke out over the lands. 

After years of internal strife, the dirty politics of Lanling Jin finally fractured the once glorious reigning sect. Jin Guangshan’s many children and their scheming “little mothers” formed factions and allied themselves with subsidiary sects all vying for control over Lanling’s seat of power. (小娘 xiao’niang = little mother, what one calls one’s mother if one’s mother is not the legal wife. The “real” mother of any children would always be the legal wife, while their birth mothers are ‘little mothers’.)

The details of Jin Guangshan’s demise was not entirely clear, but eventually it was his third son Jin Zitao who became the new Sect Master Jin. Being only eleven years old, it was clear to anyone who had eyes that he was a puppet, completely controlled by the whims of his regent mother, Jin Guangshan’s once favourite concubine, and the ancient respected Qin family who had promised their daughter Qin Su to be his bride once they both come of age. 

People had praised Qin Su’s stepmother, Sect Master Qin’s second wife, for securing such an advantageous marriage for a daughter not even of her own blood, stating that with the Dowager Madame Jin’s clever mind and Sect Master Qin’s seniority and experience, surely the murky pond of Lanling would become peaceful once again. 

The bigger question now was with three of the five major sects being led by minors - Qishan’s 14 year-old Wen Yuefan, Yunmeng’s 13 year-old Jiang Wanyin, and Lanling’s 11 year-old Jin Zitao - who then would become the next Chief Cultivator. Qinghe Nie seemed the most obvious choice at first glance, for they were the fiercest warriors, but given Sect Master Nie Heqiu’s most recent close encounter with yet another qi deviation, it seemed perhaps the real day-to-day leadership role was fulfilled by his first son Nie Mingjue. At seventeen years of age, he was certainly older than his contemporaries, but still a far cry from what was required to be His Excellency.  (温越凡 Wen Yuefan = Wen Qing’s courtesy name) 

Naturally, all eyes were drawn then towards Cloud Recesses, whose previous chance at obtaining the seat of Chief Cultivator had been dashed when its sect master at that time, Qingheng-jun, mysteriously vanished more than a decade ago. Now it seemed that Gusu Lan’s fortune was about to change yet again, when what once should have gone to Lan Cenrong now fell to his younger brother Lan Qiren. 

News of his rise to power had spread far and wide, until every man, woman, and child knew his name. Until Lan Xichen heard from a gossiping bar-keep at a tavern. Until Lan Wangji heard from the children playing on the street. 

One morning Lan Xichen returned to their temporary home to see Wangji sitting in front of the breakfast he’d prepared (when did he learn to cook???) and a purse on the table filled with silver coins and small gold nuggets.

“Wangji...where did you -” 

“I don’t want you to go out at night again, xiongzhang,” said Lan Wangji bluntly. 

Taken aback by Wangji’s tone and his implications, Xichen quickly gathered his wits and tried to maintain control of the conversation. “That doesn’t answer my question; where did you get the money?” 

“I also went out last night, after you assumed I fell asleep and left.”  

Xichen’s blood went cold. “You...went out? Out? In the middle of the night?! To do what?!” 

Lan Wangji’s stoicism did not waver. “What one usually does to get paid at night. What you’ve been doing for years.” 

In three long strides, Lan Xichen strode up to his little brother - his baby brother - and yanked him up by the collar. Grabbing his arms with both hands, he forced Wangji to look him in the eye as he exclaimed in a mad panic, “You didn’t! Tell me you didn’t!!” 

God, Wangji, what have you done, what have you done - how could I let this happen - I should’ve done better - 

Wangji did not blink, but after a long terrible silence, he said, “No. I didn’t. I just followed you. I saw.” 

“You saw…” 

There had been a man who eyed him with interest. Lan Xichen wasn’t looking for business - hadn’t been looking for months - but winter was coming and Wangji was growing so much he would need several new sets of robes. Xichen hadn’t been working as many hours as he’d been previously. He needed to train, to cultivate - they both did - so that one day they could do what needed to be done. The core melting technique was not to be trifled with lightly, jiujiu had warned them. They needed time to practice, to perfect it, time that couldn’t be used to earn income. 

While yes he could steal and yes he could kill, Lan Xichen realized early on that those two options often caught the attention of local authorities or worse the local cultivation sect, especially if his activities were too frequent or too conspicuous. Sometimes it was just easier… 

“The money, then?” 

“Don’t you recognize the purse?” 

Xichen turned around. He did. He did recognize that silk embroidered draw-string purse. It belonged to the man from last night. He had taken money out of it this morning to pay Xichen for his time.  

And when they parted ways, Xichen had gone to a public bath house to get rid of any incriminating evidence on his body before going home to his brother. That was his routine... had been his routine for years… 

“I shoved his body down a well. That should buy us enough time to get out of this town. You weren’t planning for us to stay that long anyway right?” 

“Wangji…Wangji -” Lan Xichen turned away. He couldn’t face his brother, who now knew what he knew. 

“Xiongzhang, don’t do this for me anymore.” Lan Wangji’s hand found his own, squeezing it tightly. 

“It’s - it’s really not a big deal.” Lan Xichen tried to laugh it off. “I don’t do it that often. Really - I am your older brother, it is my duty to -” 

“No. No more. From now on, if you go out, I go out. I’m old enough -” 

“You’re thirteen, a child!” 

“So were you.” 

Lan Xichen closed his eyes. 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“I know I’m done waiting.” 

Lan Wangji was talking, of course, about their vengeance. It was what they spoke of on most nights when they couldn’t sleep. For mother and father and jiujiu, they swore they would not rest until they razed Cloud Recesses to the ground and burned the core out of every last one of their disciples before slitting their throats.  

Wangji came around to face him again and stared him down with his brows furrowed tightly above bright determined eyes. “It’s not fair. The Chief Cultivator was supposed to be Father! The heir of Gusu Lan is supposed to be you! Instead - instead...”

Tears welled up in his little brother’s eyes. “They hurt you, ge, I saw. I saw.” 

Choking with shame, anger and a pain he couldn’t describe, Lan Xichen pulled Lan Wangji into a crushing hug. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry Wangji. I’m sorry I couldn’t do better. I’m...” Words failed. As Lan Wangji cried into his chest, Lan Xichen looked up to their leaky roof and their bare, striped walls, and wondered what the ethereal Cloud Recesses would look like. All that should have been theirs, should’ve been his, belonged to someone else. 

Lan Qiren is Chief Cultivator now. He’s still holding jiujiu captive. He needs to die. The people who killed Father and Mother; they all need to die. 

“You’re right, Wangji, you’re right. No more.”

“So you won’t leave at night anymore?” 

“I won’t. The world has taken everything from us, I think it’s time we take what we are owed. Once we are strong, we will save jiujiu and avenge A-die and A-niang.” 

“And if people try to stop us?” 

“Then we will destroy them and anyone else that gets in our way.” 

[just-call-me-the-intrusive-thot]

Soulmate September - Day 8

Day 8 - The temperature of your chest gets hotter when you are closer to your soulmate and colder when you move further away. (D&D AU)

Pairing(s): Romantic Roceit, Romantic Background Analogical

TWs: Swearing

–

“Oh I adore being made out to be the bad guy here.”

“You robbed the lair of the Dragon Witch! It’s literally your fault that we are mired in this bog of despair!”

Roman’s accusation rang loudly within the wagon as they made the long ride back to Amoresse to rest for the night. Janus rolled his serpentine eyes, 

“You, dear delusional knight, are totally not the one who went and killed said Dragon Witch, thus leaving her treasure for the taking.”, the half Yuan-Ti hissed, appropriately, “Besides, you can absolutely take the moral high ground here when you stole her crown at the first opportunity.”

The pristine elven knight gasped dramatically, clutching his figurative pearls at such an accusation! 

“This is an outrage-!”

“Both of you shut the fuck up or I’m driving this wagon off the nearest goddamn cliff!!”

Roman and Janus both immediately quietened down at the threat issued so casually by their wagon driver as the dhampir hissed curses under his breath. The two in the back glared at each other back and forth, avoiding looking towards the wrecked fabric of the canopy and the splintered wood. In Roman’s defense, he hadn’t known that grabbing the crown specifically would cause the Dragon Witch’s castle to fall to ruin around them. He’d realised his mistake almost immediately when he felt the dark magic radiating off of it. However, he couldn’t bring himself to admit that was the case. Especially not around Janus, the damn snake wouldn’t let him live it down. 

Being careful to pick his moment, Roman hazarded a glance over at the reptilian rapscallion eyeing up his spoils; Janus was an enigmatic entity to Roman, showing such sophistication and poise while also being prone to stumbling over his words or his own two feet in the same breath. Unabashedly, he displayed selfishness unrivalled by even the most aristocratic nobility, but in a pinch, was fully able to toss aside even the most valuable of artifacts to save a life. 

Roman had tried not to think about it. The noble and chivalrous knight, Roman of Sandaria, being saved from the jaws of death by a conman who, by all accounts, he had fully expected to leave him to die. The elven man wasn’t sure where his resentment lay; perhaps Roman thought he should’ve been able to save himself, perhaps he felt guilty for misjudging Janus but couldn’t find it in him to admit it, or perhaps it was an underlying prejudice from his training days. Yeah, he really  didn’t want to think about it.

Instead, Roman made his way to sit up front next to the moody wagon driver, making light conversation,

“I should be the one manning the wagon, your highness.”

“Roman, I’ve told you before, you can just call me by my name.”, the dhampir met Roman with piercing silver eyes, “Now, tell me what’s wrong.”

“I don’t understand my- Virgil,”, he corrected at the last second, “Nothing’s wrong. Aside from the fact you refuse to allow me to call you by your title-”

“That’s horseshit and you know it, Roman.”, Virgil kept his eyes on the road, anxious over the possibility of a crash if he kept his gaze averted too long, “I’ve known you since we were kids, I can tell when you’re lying. Besides, being called ‘your highness’ feels wrong as it is. Coming from you? It’s even fucking weirder than this whole marrying into royalty thing...”

Roman rolled his eyes but sat closer to offer Virgil a one-armed hug. The latter gave it a moment before accepting the gesture, “Virgil, you’ll be fine. If any one of us was suited to princedom, I cannot think of a better candidate. And your future husband is unreasonably attractive, so I don’t see what you have to complain about-”

“Oh my god, shut UP!”, Virgil chuckled and shoved Roman playfully. “I mean, you’re not wrong but the last thing I need is to think too hard about Logan and crash this stupid fucking shambles of a wagon!” 

The lighthearted banter did wonders to distract Roman until Virgil managed to get things back on track unfortunately, “Now, stop deflecting and tell me what’s got you so gloomy, Sir-Sing-A-Lot.”

Roman rolled his eyes at the old nickname, “I’m fine, Virge, really. I merely wish our cascading castle adventure had been a little less…ruinous.”

“.... Was that a fucking pun-”

“Ahem.”, Janus cleared his throat from behind the two of them, “I do so loathe to interrupt.... whatever this is,”, he gestured between the two of them, “But I believe that’s our stop up ahead. Wouldn’t want to go destroying that as well.”

With that, the serpentine rogue slunk back into the wagon. Roman muttered something under his breath, inaudible to Virgil, before reluctantly joining the scaled nuisance bagging up his wares. The elven knight made sure to keep his crown tucked into his rucksack, just in case thievery was something to be wary of in Amoresse. The town’s reputation, however, gave Roman hope that their visit would prove more helpful than hindering; the rumours told of a town renowned for helping wayward, lonely souls find their soulmates. As a single, disaster gay, Roman sure hoped the rumours were true. Truly he could think of nothing sadder than turning up alone to his best friend’s wedding.

Getting booked into their rooms at the tavern was a far easier ordeal than having to endure the overly chaotic gate guard to the city. The bizarre tiefling had spent so long rambling on and on about the most grotesque topics that by the time they had successfully secured a wagon bay, the moon now shone in all her celestial beauty. Virgil had suggested resting for the night, and despite Roman’s urging that they stay together, Janus had been insistent on checking out the nightlife. The knight had been content to let him do so while he guarded the prince, but the tired dhampir insisted he too take the night to enjoy himself. Roman would have argued further had Virgil not issued the suggestion as an order after his first protest.

And that was how Roman found himself sitting at a small outdoor bar tended by a rather friendly dwarf. Said dwarf, Patton as he came to learn, was quite the chatterbox while Roman was content to take in the night air in spite of his earlier worries. 

“Say kiddo,”, the dwarf broke from his pleasant rambling, “you’re looking a little lonely there. You got something on your mind?”

Roman hadn’t expected that. He pursed his lips in thought. 

“I suppose I may as well be honest with you. I’ve been wondering if-”

“If the rumours are true?”, Patton finished, “Well, luckily for you, they are!”

He ducked down behind the counter and pulled up an ornate crystal bottle that contained a marvellous prismatic liquid inside. Roman watched with great interest as the dwarf pulled out a goblet and began to mix a sweet, fruity smelling drink before dropping in three drops of the colourful elixir.

“Anima Venenum”, Patton informed him, “Our town’s alchemist created it by accident a couple of centuries back, and ever since, we offer some to tourists who look like they need a little guidance in the ol’ world of love!”

Roman was mesmerised, “Really? You mean, I needn’t pay you for it?”

“Nope! Our only rule is to never hand it out to anyone who doesn’t ask us for it. It’s up to you if you wanna accept this, so no pressure. I just figured you looked like you might be in need of it.”

The knight had so many questions swirling around in his brain, but by the time he had settled on a single one, his hand was holding the goblet to his lips. The taste was citrusy like sweet clementines, but with a mixed berry and almost floral taste that reminded him of a rose wine. As the last of it slid down his throat, Roman noted a soft honey-like taste as he thanked Patton, 

“That tastes wonderful! I’ve never had an elixir that tasted so good.”

Patton chuckled, “Actually, the elixir itself is tasteless. People just take better to it when it's mixed with a good drink, otherwise the texture weirds ‘em out.”

“Ah, I see.”, Roman let out a gentle chuckle. He didn’t feel all that different, truth be told, and so he asked, “How will I know it’s working?”

“The effects are instantaneous, don’t you worry! It might be hard to notice at first, but when you’re near your soulmate, your heart will feel really warm- In a good way! Not like heartburn, so don’t worry about it feeling unpleasant.”, Patton assured him.

Roman nodded, making a note of it as he got up to leave before quickly asking, “Oh! How long will it last?”

Patton waved him off, assuring him, “It’ll last for as long as you need to find your soulmate, guaranteed!”

With the night reaching its peak, Roman found himself strolling along the cobbled streets back to the tavern when he felt it; a flicker of warmth in his heart. Soft as the beating of a butterfly’s wing but very much there. He followed the feeling until he came upon a narrow street, hardly lit by the lamps stationed at it’s opening. The street itself was largely empty bar a silhouette in the dark leaning against the stone bridge that arched over the shimmering water running beneath it. 

His heart raced as Roman approached the figure, the flames licking at his heart until he arrived about a foot from the entrance of the bridge. The figure turned to Roman, smirking a familiar smirk,

“Come to join me, oh loyal guardian of our beloved prince?”

Janus. His soulmate was Janus?! Roman couldn’t believe it, yet no matter how thoroughly he scanned the immediate area, not a single other soul revealed itself. The half Yuan-Ti raised a bemused eyebrow at Roman, “Please, do keep ignoring my question so you may continue to look like a fool.”

Roman scowled. Maybe the kindly dwarf was just teasing him? No, he didn’t seem the type. But this conman? His soulmate? Perhaps Roman would indulge it, see where that led him. Worth a shot anyway. 

“My apologies.”, was all Roman offered as he took a spot on the bridge next to Janus, the flames of his heart undeniably soaring to life at the close proximity. Janus gave Roman a puzzled glance which let Roman take in his features; a half scaled face and body that, the more he watched the moonlight dance along the scales, made Roman want to gently reach out and touch them. In fact, he had subconsciously been doing just that when Janus had held his wrist in place, “It’s not completely rude to just touch someone’s scales without permission. What’s gotten into that underbaked brain of yours, Roman?”

Flustered and embarrassed by his lack of tact, Roman uttered quietly, “Soulmate cocktail.”

“Pardon?”

Roman panicked, “So many cocktails. Is what I said. Like, 14 whole cocktails.” 

Great. Excellent save.

“..... You’re expecting me to believe that? Did you forget that I’m rather adept at being able to tell when someone’s lying to my face, Roman?”

End him. Just end him now. Roman wished a stray lightning bolt would smite him where he stood so he wouldn’t have to face his own stupidity. Quick, say something to help ease the situation.

“Okay. I had 16 cocktails.”, he stammered with a laugh, “I’m absolutely drunk. You got me, you clever reptile you!”

Roman of Sandaria you are a certified idiot. 

“.... Alright then. Prove it.”, Janus goaded him, locking onto Roman’s crimson eyes with his own citrine snake-like eyes. 

“Prove-?”

“Let me smell your breath.”, Janus clarified, getting closer. Each inch set Roman’s heart aflame all too literally. “If you’re as inebriated as you claim to be, your breath will absolutely stink.”

Shit.

“Uuuh, personal space-”, Roman began to move back, but Janus grasped the front of his tunic.

“Don’t give me that, Mister Personal-Space-Is-A-Societal-Construct, I’ve seen how often you get in your dear prince’s personal space...”, Roman could’ve sworn for a split second that Janus sounded resentful, or perhaps envious, before his tone took a more curious route, “... or perhaps could there be another reason you don’t want to be so close to me?”

The knight became aware of the burning within his chest threatening to rage out of control, the distance between them barely a couple of inches now. Roman wasn’t sure what to do, but the lure of Janus’ eyes and the way his ribcage radiated with a heat he’d never felt before spurred him to act; he leant forward and pressed his lips to the serpentine man before him.

It surprised Roman just how pleasant it felt, though he prepared himself for harsh retaliation from the half Yuan-Ti when he felt Janus take in a breath against his lips. However, Roman was pleasantly surprised to find that Janus, not only didn’t issue him a well-earned slap and spend the rest of the night cussing him out, but instead kissed him back even harder. Not that Roman was complaining. By the time they pulled back for air, Roman didn’t even notice the fire in his heart subsiding to be replaced with a more natural warmth as Janus’ hands softly caressed Roman’s cheeks. “I’ll be the first to admit, I totally saw the night heading that direction.”, Janus mused in surprise.

Roman let out a hearty chuckle, hardly even noticing that he’d subconsciously wrapped his arms around Janus.

“Care to tell me what brought this on, Roman of Sandaria?”

Just hearing his name spoken in such an enticing dulcet made his knees feel weak; how had Roman never noticed how beautiful Janus’ voice was? His mind was too busy latching onto every octave, every syllable, that he nearly forgot to answer him. He took Janus’ scaled hand and pressed his lips to it in a gentle gesture his soulmate clearly wasn’t used to if the flustered way he averted his eyes was anything to go by,

“I suppose you could say I did a little soul searching.”

----

Have some straight up Roceit fluff, this came out so cute.

@tsshipmonth2020

Taglist: @somehow-i-got-an-account @cateye-glasses @lavender-mochi [I know you love your Roceit so I figured I’d tag you incase you needed this] @fandomsofrandom [I nearly missed the reblog where you asked to be added I’m so sorry]

[shadowheartwife]

Frozen 3: Melt (ACT 2: Scenes 15-16)

SCENE 15

It is twilight. Elsa and Anna are seen walking together through the streets of Arendelle as their people settle in for the night. Shops are closing, children are running home, and the street lamps are being lit. The sisters are holding hands.

“Anna,” Elsa says teasingly, “you’re never this quiet.”

“Sorry. Well, I guess I don’t need to be sorry, but I am. Sorry. I mean, I’m stuck in my head, it’s like I’ve got a hive of bees in my brain.” Elsa leads them over to a bench, where they have a view of the main square.

“This attack… what would we have done without you? I had no idea we were in danger until it was too late. If you hadn’t been here, if you hadn’t had that feeling… I don’t know if I’d be queen right now.” Anna looks down, forlorn. Elsa brushes stray hairs behind Anna’s ear and gently turns her head towards her.

“Anna, you know you can talk to me about anything.” Anna sighs and leans into her sister.

“This doesn’t feel like the right thing. It did, at first, but now I’m having all of these second thoughts.”

“What’s not the right thing?” Elsa asks gently.

“Being queen is so overwhelming sometimes. For you it seemed so natural, you got settled in so quickly, but I… I feel like I’m always playing catch-up. Sometimes I don’t sleep. Then there’s Kristoff… we’ve talked, a bit… I love him so much, I am going to marry him, it’s just… he doesn’t want to be king. His talents are elsewhere. We hadn’t even talked about any of this before the engagement, because you were queen, then. The thought hadn’t crossed our minds.”

“I understand,” Elsa begins. “At first, the enchanted forest felt like exactly where I belonged. Then time went by… I do love it there, but I miss Arendelle. It was incredible to be so close to Ahtohallan, to meet Mother’s people, but I miss my family here. After a while I began to question exactly what I was doing. I lost a sense of purpose. I thought I would help protect the forest, but it doesn’t need protection. The Northuldra know what they’re doing, they don’t need me… yet I need Arendelle. I miss my people.” 

Anna wraps her arms around Elsa. They both sit in silence for a moment, watching children run by, late for dinner.

“I miss being carefree. I mean, there are always things to worry about, but this isn’t how I pictured my life. I thought I’d get married, live in the castle, relax, and… and I think that Kristoff would be a really good father.” Anna blushes.

“He will be, someday. You don’t think you could do that while being queen? Mother did it.”

“I could. It could work, but I want to spend so much more time with them than she could with us. I don’t want to be trapped in my duties and too busy to enjoy being a mother. It’s a lot to balance. I don’t want to miss a moment with my children, or Kristoff.”

Elsa pondered for a moment. “Have you had a chance to speak to Kristoff about all of this?”

“No, but it’s time. No more hiding my feelings.” Another pause. Elsa takes a deep breath.

“Speaking of feelings, Anna… I need to talk to you about Hans.”

“Please do not tell me you’re in love with him,” Anna joked, crinkling her nose and nudging Elsa.

“No! Anna!” Elsa laughs. “I wanted to tell you what I’ve learned about him… there’s a reason he is the way he is. There’s no excuse for what he did to us, but I can understand his reasons.”

“What reason could there be, other than greed and hatred?”

“Let me tell you what I know.”

SCENE 16

Hans is led to the main hall of the castle. He is surrounded by guards on all sides, handcuffed. He is escorted to the middle of the hall and then left standing there after the guards leave. Anna, Kristoff, Elsa, Sven, Olaf, and Mattias stand at the head of the room.

“Sorry,” Elsa mouths, freezing Hans’ feet to the ground. Kristoff grins ruefully, and it’s clear that he wanted Elsa to make sure Hans couldn’t move. Anna walks forward slowly, followed by Kristoff, who remains close behind her when she stops in front of Hans.

“You lied to me. You broke my heart. You left me to die. You tried to take Elsa’s life. You tried to take Arendelle…” Hans hangs his head in shame. He can’t look her in the eyes. “... and yet you risked your life to come here and warn us, and you yourself saved me from your brother.” Hans lifts his gaze, keeping his head low.

“I don’t know if I will ever be able to trust you,” she said, gesturing to his frozen feet. “Even so,” she turned and looked to Kristoff for reassurance. He hesitated, softened his gaze, and then nodded. 

“Turn around,” Anna orders. Hans looks side to side in confusion before gesturing to his feet. Elsa quickly unfreezes them so he can do as he’s asked. Anna takes a key and removes his handcuffs.

“My sister and I are firm believers in second chances, that even the coldest of hearts can be warmed over time. She will freeze you whenever she likes, and Mattias has been ordered to keep a close eye on you. He will also ensure that you do not have access to any weapons, and will be checking your room daily for anything you might be hiding.”

Hans looks dumbstruck, blinking rapidly. “My room?”

“Don’t get excited. It’s basically a jail cell with fancy pillows,” Kristoff muttered.

“The fact that I… thank you, Your Highness.” Hans bows deeply to Anna. “I can’t thank you enough.”

“Show us that you’ve changed, that my sister is right,” Anna tells him. 

“I will do everything I can,” Hans promises. Olaf approaches him, giving him a skeptical side eye. 

“I hesitantly extend a warm welcome to you, sideburns man.” Olaf reaches out his arm to shake Hans’ hand. Hans accidentally grips it too hard and rips it off. Panicking, he shoves it back on, snapping it because he’s too fast.

“Forgiving costs an arm and a leg, huh?” Olaf jokes. Hans is bright red and laughs nervously. 

“I’m… sorry?”

Olaf struts away over to Sven. “Just don’t eat my nose.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it. That’s disgusting.”

“I’m disgusting?” Olaf asks, eyes narrowed, head slowly turning back to Hans.

“I’ll just close my mouth and walk away.” Hans turns abruptly to leave. As she passes her sister, Elsa squeezes Anna’s shoulder before showing Hans to his room. They exit the throne room together.

[shiningloki]

“Behind Locked Doors” Playlist

After the amazing response to the “Get On Your Knees And Pray To Me” playlist, I felt it was finally time to formally put together a playlist for my Professor Tom Hiddleston fic, “Behind Locked Doors”. Just like the “Get On Your Knees And Pray To Me” playlist, you will find a collection of songs with Youtube links to listen to each individual song along with a few select lyrics from each song that stand out to me! You can also listen to the complete playlist on Spotify!

Happy listening!

Read “Behind Locked Doors” here

This playlist loosely follows the plot of the story. I recommend listening to the songs in order, but shuffling them is also fine as well!

Listen to the playlist on Spotify

Slow Hands - Niall Horan

"We should take this back to my place" That's what she said right to my face 'Cause I want you bad Yeah, I want you, baby I've been thinking 'bout it all day And I hope you feel the same way, yeah 'Cause I want you bad Yeah, I want you, baby

Slow, slow hands Like sweat dripping down our dirty laundry No, no chance That I'm leaving here without you on me I, I know Yeah, I already know that there ain't no stoppin' Your plans and those Slow hands (woo) Slow hands

Aviation High - Semi Precious Weapons

I like the way you look in my town I like the way you look at my street I like the way you look in my house I like the way you look in my sheets

I like the way you taste with a drink I like the way you taste with a smile I like the way you taste when I sing I like it when its been a while I like it when its been a while

Gorilla - Bruno Mars

Yeah I got a fistful of your hair But you don't look like you're scared You're just smiling tell me daddy it's yours 'Cause you know how I like it use a dirty little lover If the neighbors call the cops, call the sheriff Call the swat we don't stop We keep rocking while they knocking on our door And you're screaming give it to me baby Give it to me motherfucker

Oh look what you doing, look what you done But in this jungle you can't run 'Cause what I got for you I promise is a killer, you'll be banging on my chest Bang bang, gorilla

New Light - John Mayer

I'm the boy in your other phone Lighting up inside your drawer at home all alone Pushing 40 in the friend zone We talk and then you walk away every day Oh, you don't think twice 'bout me And maybe you're right to doubt me, but

But if you give me just one night You're gonna see me in a new light Yeah, if you give me just one night To meet you underneath the moonlight Oh, I want a take two, I want to breakthrough I wanna know the real thing about you So I can see you in a new light

No Control - One Direction

Got the taste on my tongue I don't want to wash away the night before And the heat where you laid I could stay right here and burn in it all day

Waking up Beside you, I'm my loaded gun I can't contain this anymore I'm all yours, I've got no control No control Powerless And I don't care, it's obvious I just can't get enough of you The pedal's down, my eyes are closed No control

Heartbreak Weather - Niall Horan

Yeah I saw you smiling, breaking the silence Telling me just what you want There in the moment, I was reminded I haven't felt this way in a while

Blinded by the sparks We were driving around in the dark Finding reasons to stay where we are

All of my life I've been sleep-walk living Running around the same bars I've been in It can be so lonely in this city But it feels different when you're with me All of my life, it's been heartbreak weather Thinking to myself it won't get better It can be so lonely in this city But it feels different when you're with me

Yeah, it was magic, you were a vision Watching the way your body moves Taking your clothes off, you look in the mirror Telling me just what you want, and I

Was blinded by the sparks I was holding you close in the dark Finding reasons to stay where we are

Flawless - The Neighbourhood

She planned ahead for a year, he said let's play it by ear She didn't want him to run, he didn't want her to fear Nobody said it'd be easy, they knew it was rough But, tough luck

I fell in love today, there aren't many words you can say That could ever get my mind to change She's enough for me, she's in love with me

You're a doll, you are flawless But I just can't wait for love to destroy us I just can't wait for love You're only flaw, you are flawless But I just can't wait for love to destroy us I just can't wait for love

Big White Bed - AJR

All I want is you, my dear We will live up on the tree In a big white house, in a big white bed

Kiss Me - Ed Sheeran

Settle down with me And I'll be your safety You'll be my lady

I was made to keep your body warm But I'm cold as the wind blows so hold me in your arms

Oh no My heart's against your chest, your lips pressed in my neck I'm falling for your eyes, but they don't know me yet And with this feeling I'll forget, I'm in love now

Kiss me like you wanna be loved You wanna be loved You wanna be loved This feels like falling in love Falling in love We're falling in love

Yeah I've been feeling everything From hate to love From love to lust From lust to truth I guess that's how I know you So I hold you close to help you give it up

Save My Heart - Jason Reeves

I want what I can't have I wanna make you mine I don't care what it takes I'm fearless with my heart I'll take it any place I don't care if it breaks I wanna tell you things I never tell myself These secrets hurt like hell, oh Call me crazy, maybe I'm insanely Out of my mind but it'll never phase me If I have to, I'm not afraid to Save my heart for you I'm a rebel even if it's trouble I'ma pull you out from the rubble If I have to, I'm not afraid to Save my heart for you Tell me I'm wrong Turn around and run Still I'm gonna save my heart for you

How Would You Feel (Paean) - Ed Sheeran

You are the one girl And you know that it's true I'm feeling younger Every time that I'm alone with you

We were sitting in a parked car Stealing kisses in the front yard We got questions we should not ask but

How would you feel, if I told you I loved you? It's just something that I want to do I'll be taking my time, spending my life Falling deeper in love with you So tell me that you love me too

Secret Love Song, Pt. II - Little Mix

We keep behind closed doors Every time I see you, I die a little more Stolen moments that we steal as the curtain falls It'll never be enough As you drive me to my house I can't stop these silent tears from rolling down You and I both have to hide On the outside where I can't be yours and you Can't be mine But I know this We got a love that is homeless

Why can't I hold you in the street? Why can't I kiss you on the dance floor? I wish that it could be like that Why can't it be like that? 'Cause I'm yours Why can't I say that I'm in love? I wanna shout it from the rooftops I wish that it could be like that Why can't it be like that? 'Cause I'm yours

Teacher’s Pet - Melanie Martinez

Caught the teacher giving his eyes to a student Thought he pretty cute and she bit her lip back to him Chewing on her nails and her pens while she's dreaming of him And he's fucking in sin, you know he is

She said, "It's for all the right reasons Baby, don't care 'bout grades Just call me your lady If I pass this quiz will you give me your babies? Don't call me crazy You love me but you won't come save me You got a wife and kids, you see them daily Don't know why you even need me"

Teacher's pet If I'm so special why am I secret? Yeah, why the fuck is that?

Meet Me in the Hallway - Harry Styles

Just let me know I'll be at the door, at the door Hoping you'll come around Just let me know I'll be on the floor, on the floor Maybe we'll work it out Gotta get better, gotta get better Gotta get better, gotta get better Gotta get better, gotta get better And maybe we'll work it out

We don't talk about it It's something we don't do 'Cause once you go without it Nothing else will do

Yesterday - The Beatles

Yesterday All my troubles seemed so far away Now it looks as though they're here to stay Oh, I believe in yesterday

Suddenly I'm not half the man I used to be There's a shadow hangin' over me Oh, yesterday came suddenly

Why she had to go, I don't know, she wouldn't say I said something wrong, now I long for yesterday

Back to You - Selena Gomez

You could break my heart in two But when it heals, it beats for you I know it's forward, but it's true

I wanna hold you when I'm not supposed to When I'm lying close to someone else You're stuck in my head and I can't get you out of it If I could do it all again I know I'd go back to you I know I'd go back to you I know I'd go back to you

Kiss It Better - Rihanna

Man, fuck your pride Just take it on back, boy take it on back boy Take it back all night Just take it on back, take it on back Mmm, do what you gotta do, keep me up all night Hurting vibe, man, and it hurts inside when I look you in your eye

What are you willing to do Oh tell me what you're willing to do? (Kiss it, kiss it better, baby) Oh what are you willing to do? Oh, tell me what you're willing to do? Kiss it, kiss it better, baby

All Of The Stars - Ed Sheeran

I can hear your heart On the radio beat They're playing 'Chasing Cars' And I thought of us Back to the time, You were lying next to me I looked across and fell in love So I took your hand Back through lamp lit streets I knew Everything led back to you So can you see the stars? Over Amsterdam You're the song my heart is Beating to

So open your eyes and see The way our horizons meet And all of the lights will lead Into the night with me And I know these scars will bleed But both of our hearts believe All of these stars will guide us home

[imjustthemechanic]

The Price of a Soul

Part 1/? - Agent Russel Part 2/? - The Letter Part 3/? - Miss Lake Part 4/? - The Stewardess Part 5/? - An Assassination Part 6/? - Fallout Part 7/? - Face to Face Part 8/? - Deals, Details, and Other Devils Part 9/? - Baggage Part 10/? - Private Funding Part 11/? - Just Passing Through Part 12/? - Party of Four Part 13/? - Resolute Part 14/? - The Wreck Part 15/? - Body Snatchers Part 16/? - Out of the Frying Pan Part 17/? - A Miracle Part 18/? - A Matter of Circumstance Part 19/? - Nome Part 20/? - The Future Part 21/? - A Hero’s Welcome Part 22/? - Up to Speed Part 23/? - Expect Further Delays Part 24/? - The Welcome Wagon Part 25/? - Fugitives Part 26/? - A Reluctant Accomplice Part 27/? - Deja Vu Part 28/? - Interview with a Madwoman Part 29/? - Violence

Holy shit, another chapter!  This is the one where Dottie kills a buncha mobsters.

-

They did not fly to Nevada.  Kay had already been recognized on a plane once, and with all three of them together and all three of them fugitives, there was a greater chance that at least one of them would be spotted.  They got Dottie some clothes that were not a prison uniform, stole another car, and started driving.

“You know, I just realized,” said Peggy, who was at the wheel for the first part of the journey.  “We never did find the bomb on Howard’s plane.  Was there one?”

“Of course not,” said Kay.  “Why would I bother building a bomb when the threat of one would do the trick?”

“Because you’re a coward,” said Dottie.

“I’m efficient,” Kay told her.

“What if she’d called your bluff?” Dottie asked.

“She didn’t.  And even if she had, I wasn’t actually going to blow up the plane.  I needed it.  And the people on board it.  I would have thought of something.  You don’t have to kill every single person who inconveniences you,” she added, sounding exasperated.  It made Peggy wonder if that were something many of the Russian girls tended to do.

“Spoilsport,” said Dottie.

The journey had to be done in stages.  Peggy and Kay could take turns driving, but neither trusted Dottie to take the wheel, and they had to take turns sitting up and watching her during the night so she couldn’t run off.  Dottie seemed to enjoy the attention.  As far as Peggy could tell, she slept quite peacefully during the nights, and during the daytime she let her scarf flutter in the breeze with a smile on her face, and delightedly pointed out roadside attractions that Peggy and Kay refused to stop for.

While they drove, they listened to the radio.  The news talked about things like Burma joining the United Nations, and how the latter organization had established a special body dedicated to public health.  But of course, what Peggy was really listening for was Steve.  His tour of New England continued with cheering crowds all the way.  The announcers described him visiting soldiers whose lives he’d saved, and the widows of those he couldn’t.

There was even, at one point, an interview with him.  Peggy perked up at the announcement and Kay immediately turned the radio up.

Captain Rogers, the interviewer said.  Now that you’re back, what are your plans for the future?

I’m not sure, Steve’s voice replied, and Peggy’s insides twisted. He’d had plans… he’d been going to get married and buy a farm.  She was the one who’d told him he couldn’t do that.  I’m still in the army for the time being.  My discharge was issued on the assumption I was dead, and since I’m not, my service isn’t finished.

“Damn Masters,” Peggy murmured.

Kay thought for a moment.  “What if he got his tie caught in a piece of machinery and it strangled him?”

“Hush,” Peggy told her.

Have you heard the rumors that other countries have begun research on human enhancement? asked the interviewer.

I have, said Steve.  It was my understanding that everyone signed a treaty that they wouldn’t do human experimentation like that.

They did, the interviewer said, but there have been suggestions that America’s enemies think they need to find a way to counter you.

I’m not a weapon, and we’re not at war, said Steve.  When you’re not at war, you don’t need super-soldiers.

So you would be opposed to any such work in the United States?  Or only abroad?

I think, said Steve, that anybody who wants to volunteer for such a program needs to think very hard about what they want to get out of it. Even the people who worked on the serum didn’t know what its long-term effects on my body would be.  I think they’d have been shocked to learn I survived three years frozen in ice.

Peggy certainly had been, and Howard… but now she found her own thought. He’d crashed the Valkyrie fully intending to die.  He’d said he’d realized at the last moment that he didn’t want that after all, but that was before he’d found his plans in tatters.  Had he changed his mind again since?  Was he contemplating suicide, only to realize he didn’t know if there were anything that would kill him?

No, that couldn’t be.  Steve wouldn’t, not when his previous attempt was so fresh in his mind.  Not when he knew that the friend he’d intended to die for was alive and in need of help.

Even so, the idea stuck in Peggy’s mind, and made her feel a little ill. She couldn’t stop picturing him contemplating it.  She imagined him playing with a knife, examining a bottle of rat poison, spinning the chamber in a revolver, and wondering if any of them could do him irreparable damage.  A treacherous lump rose in her throat at the thought.

She wondered, too, if Steve were thinking about her while all this went on.  What with all the autographs and photo opportunities and such things, he probably had very little time to.  If he did, though, what was he thinking about?  He’d told Russel to trust her, so he clearly didn’t believe in the charges against her.  What did he think she was up to?  What had Masters told him?

For that matter, what was Daniel thinking about while he sat in jail?  He doubtless thought Peggy was working on clearing both their names.  Technically she was.  Freeing Dottie would doubles have delayed the trial at the very least.  But she was also thinking about Steve’s desire to free his friend.  He’d been so broken the day after Sergeant Barnes fell into the ravine… at the time, all Peggy had been able to offer was advice.  Now that she could give him an opportunity to fix that awful thing, she couldn’t just let it lie.

Neither Steve nor Daniel had heard from her since her arrest.  Did one or both think she’d simply run off with the other?

Well, to close this on a less serious note, the reporter said.  Captain, I’m sure what the women of America are dying to know is: are you looking for love?

There was a brief pause.  I’m not sure, said Steve.  I had a girl during the war, but three years is a long time.

You heard it here first, ladies, the reporter said.  Captain America may soon be back on the market!  Thank you so much for your time, Cap.  Pleasure having you on the show.

You’re welcome, was all Steve said.

Kay changed the station, and then quickly turned the volume back down again as the Floyd Hunt Quartet’s Fool that I Am came out just a little too loud.

“Aw, don’t love make fools of us all,” Dottie teased.

Peggy didn’t answer.  She had no intention of encouraging her.

- 

Upon arriving in Carson City, they had some lunch and freshened up, and then parked across the street from Governor Strieber’s mansion.  It was a very modest place compared to some of the buildings Howard Stark lived, but still represented hundreds of possible hiding places for a large amount of money.  Especially for a man who knew that no less a mobster than John ‘Moxie’ Blumberg would come down on him if it were found.

“How are we going to find it?” Peggy asked.

“Joseph will show me where it is,” Dottie replied calmly.  “He knows I’m coming back for it eventually.”

“Will he be surprised it’s so soon?”  A smart man would have set it aside to make sure it was there for her, but Peggy’s experience was that most politicians were not very smart where money was concerned.  If he thought it might be a while before Dottie came back, he may well have spent it… especially when Dottie and her ilk were so easy to underestimate.

“Joseph is easy to surprise,” said Dottie.  “It’s one of his more charming traits.”

It was very late, almost one in the morning, when Strieber’s shiny silver Packard pulled into the driveway, and Strieber got out.  He was a very tall man but also quite overweight, with a drinker’s belly that hung over the top of his trousers.  He was dressed up as if he’d been out for a night on the town, no doubt gambling in the new casino he pretended to disapprove of.  A woman climbed out after him and took his arm. She was a brunette, dressed in a pink and black evening gown with an enormous fur stole around her shoulders. The two of them headed inside.

“Forgot me already, Joseph?” Dottie clucked her tongue.  “You’ll break my heart.”

Once the door was closed, Dottie climbed out of the car and headed towards the house.  Peggy and Kay climbed out and went after her.

Dottie took them around the back and knocked on the kitchen door.  A woman in a maid’s uniform answered it, and looked startled.

“Miss Abagnale?” she asked.

Dottie punched her in the face.

They tied up the maid with an electrical cord, and found the short flight of stairs that led up into the living area.  Light was coming around the door at the top.  Peggy opened it a crack and looked out into a sitting area… lamps were lit, but she couldn’t see anybody.

The door suddenly jerked open, and Peggy found the barrel of a revolver in her face.

It took a moment for her eyes to re-focus from the dark ring of potential death to the man wielding it.  He was a skinny guy with dark hair, wearing a gray suit and hat and a green tie.

“Come on out, sweetheart,” he told Peggy.  His two front teeth were missing.

Peggy thought fast… no idea who this man was, but she couldn’t let him reveal that they were here.  She dropped to her knees to grab him around the legs and knock him over.  At the same time, both Dottie and Kay leaped on him from behind her.  He squawked in surprise, but it was too late for him to fight back.  Moments later they had him flat on the floor.  Dottie’s foot was in the middle of his chest, and the gun was in her hand, pointed at his head.

“Carbone?” somebody asked.  “What’s going on?”

Peggy swore under her breath – she should have known Dottie would lead them into trouble!  “Let’s go, quick,” she said.

It was too late for that, though.  Another man appeared in the doorway to the siting room.  Dottie shot him, and the second one who turned out to be behind him.  She kicked Carbone in the chin, and strode down the hall like a queen.

Peggy and Kay had no choice but to follow her.

In the sitting room, Strieber and his girlfriend were on a sofa, clinging to each other in terror.  Four more mobsters were standing around them, and Moxie Blumberg himself was halfway through lighting a cigar out of a box he’d taken from the cabinet.  All of them were clearly shocked by what had just occurred, and more so to see Dottie walk in with Carbone’s gun in her hand.

The one nearest Dottie raised his own weapon.  She kicked it out of his hand and shot him.  There was absolutely nothing for it now.  One of the others pulled out a knife and went for Peggy – she grabbed a crystal decanter of alcohol off a table and smashed it over his head.  Kay kicked another one’s legs out from under him and slammed his face into the floor, then snatched the revolver off his belt and shot a third mobster in the knee. He dropped, and Dottie shot him in the head to finish him off.  The last one lost his nerve and turned to run – Dottie shot him, too, and then she was out of bullets.  She threw the gun aside and snatched up the knife the other man had dropped.  By this time, Blumberg was pulling out his own gun, but Dottie threw the knife and it embedded itself in his gut.  He fell.

That left the three women, and Strieber and his mistress.

“Mary-Ann?” asked Strieber in a tremulous voice.

Dottie smiled.  “Where’s my money, Joseph?”

Strieber ran to the bookshelf, stepped over Blumberg’s fallen body, and pulled out a few volumes.  Behind them was a wall safe.  He dialed the combination in with shaking hands, needing several tries to get it right. With each failure, Dottie came closer and closer behind him, and Peggy could see the sweat beading on the back of his neck.  Finally he got it open, and stepped aside.

“T-t-there it is!” he said.  “Take it!”

Dottie pulled out several packets of bills and tossed them to Peggy and Kay. Then she shut the safe and turned to smile at Strieber.

“Thank you, Joseph,” she said.  “I knew I could count on you.”

In a swift motion, she’d gotten a toe under Blumberg’s fallen pistol.  She kicked it into the air, caught it, and shot Strieber in the neck.  His girlfriend screamed.  Dottie turned around, and killed her, too.

“Don’t!” Kay shouted, but it was already too late.