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assassinmidnight · 3 years ago

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Their resident Genius

The BAU is called in by Scotland Yard to help with a case, Spencer becomes intrigued when he hears that they have their own resident genius.

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Spencer Reid x Holmes!Autistic!Female!reader

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Honestly Spencer was unsure why Scotland Yard had called them in, he always knew that their team was one of the best but the fact that Scotland Yard had called them in had surprised the Genius a lot.

“Okay team, we’ve been called in by the English. We’re gonna be gone for a bit so pack accordingly. Airstrip in 30,” Hotch called. “Wait, the English? You mean Scotland Yard? Scotland Yard called US in, why?”

“Really Reid, I thought you’d be the most excited to meet their team. Apparently they have their own resident genius,” The reply from Hotch had Morgan smiling “Resident Genius? Is he smarter than Reid? Man I have to see this,”

During the entire flight Spencer had been thinking of the so-called Genius. He didn’t really believe in genius as a word but he had become intrigued. He wondered if Hotch was honest, if he was correctly informed. Spencer had for a long time kept track of Scotland Yard but he’d only heard of Sherlock Holmes being their resident genius, but he was a consultant not an official agent. Did he decide to join them officially?

“Reid stop, I can hear the cogs turning in your head and it’s keeping me from my sleep,”

“Shut up Morgan,” Morgan looked over “Reid I get it, you’re stressed about meeting new people and maybe even someone who can go against you in brainiac power. But dude chill, it’s gonna be all good, chances are they aren’t even close to your level.”

Spencer took that into consideration, it’s true most people who are called geniuses aren’t close to his level.”

“Okay team we’re gonna meet the people from Scotland Yard. Behave,” Hotch sounded more serious than he looked.

Spencer was surprised when they entered the building, it was nothing like their own. This place was not messy or filled with people stuffing the rooms, it was all quiet and strict as if it was a classroom. “This way to the office,” Hotch pointed towards a room and they all headed there.

“Ah Agent Hotch, thank you for coming,” The man smiled and shook hands with Hotch, “This must be your famous team of profilers,” The man quickly looked at his watch before looking up again. “We should wait with the introductions, one of ours is running late,” Morgan smirked “Your resident genius?” The man looked up surprised before nodding, he looked like he was about to answer but got interrupted by the door swinging open.

“I’m sorry for being late, you know how my brother is,” A woman came in, a bit out of breath. She looked around 21 and had (y/h) colored hair, quite long too.

She seemed to realize the company they had and went beet red, Spencer thought she looked pretty cute.

She turned back to the man, “So this is the BAU team lestrade? The best profilers,”

“Wait you’re Greg Lestrade? You worked with Sherlock and Dr. Watson,” The two brits looked over at Reid, the girl cocked her head to the side before smiling. “Dr. Reid I presume. I’ve read a lot about you, three PhDs and working for the FBI at 24, impressive,” now Reid turned red earning a laugh from Morgan. “You did your homework,” The woman looked at Morgan, “Yes I did, I like knowing who come here, Agent Morgan.”

“Y/n behave. I know you prefer working alone but no need to be rude, you are better than your brothers aren't you?” The girl named Y/n sighed and nodded. “Good, introduce us to the UnSub.”

Throughout the entire briefing Spencer had been staring at Y/N, he couldn’t figure out how such a young woman was part of Scotland Yard. He tried to profile her but all he could decipher from her movements, which were many. She fidgeted a lot, tended to stare at the wall and kept her arms crossed over her chest. She was distracted, bored and introverted. That profile didn’t fit someone in this field.

“Yes Y/N?” Hotch's voice brought Spencer from his thoughts.

“Dr. Reid, why are you staring at me so much? Is it really that hard to profile me?” Her voice was quite gleeful. She was proud, she had an advantage and she knew that. “Mm, yes sorry, I was profiling you but it wasn’t hard. You are clearly bored by this, unfocused throughout the entire briefing and you are closed off. These are not common attributes in Agents, that’s why I was staring,” He felt pretty proud of himself until “You didn’t introduce me Detective?” “No, I thought it best to keep the introductions til we're all here. But it seems like you know them well enough which I expected but you should probably introduce yourself,” Lestrade smiled and Y/N nodded. “My name is Y/N Holmes, little sister of both Mycroft and Sherlock. I am the one who usually works alone in my cave but apparently I was needed for this case. And no Dr. Reid I was not bored or unfocused, quite the opposite actually. I was just in my mind palace,”

“You’re the sister of Sherlock? Wait you’re the resident Genius,” Y/N laughed at Morgan’s reaction. Once again she cocked her head to the side, smiling. “How many PhDs?” She turned to Reid, “None, school bores me. Also resident genius isn’t what I would call myself, creative genius with hypersensitivity. All the Holmes boys got none of the emotion so I got all of it,” Reid nodded. “Well now that we’ve been introduced to the most interesting thing in England, how about we get started.”

“You still thinking about Miss smartypants, Pretty boy?” Reid tossed a pillow at Derek, but he did nod. “There is something about her, she wasn’t looking at me but knew that I was watching her. She assumed Lestrade had introduced her to us but was happy when she got to do it herself and she pointed out that she is more creative and sensitive than her brothers who are known sociopaths. I can’t understand her brain, or her profile,” Morgan stared at Reid before laughing “Dude it sound like you have a crush on Miss Holmes, well if she is as smart as they say your kids will definitely be something out of this world,” Morgan kept on laughing even when Spencer turned around on his bed.

“Welcome to my cave, don’t touch anything without asking.” Y/N was stern, her look was cold as well Spence nodded. “So um, why am I working here instead of in the field?” he asked, she looked at him annoyed before turning to her screen. “Because your boss thought it would be best to keep the two geniuses in the same room.”

The two kept working, Reid was surprised at all the tea Y/N was drinking and how she compulsively played with her bracelets whenever she was thinking. OCD, that did fit but something still felt off. “Just ask, get it out of the way before you drive me absolutely nuts” she looked at him expectantly. Spencer gulped before asking the question “Why can’t I profile you? I know it’s nothing on my end so it must be something on yours,” She shook her head and smiled, looking back at her screen. Spencer sighed thinking she wasn’t going to answer.

“I am autistic with traces of OCD and dyslexia, that’s why you can’t profile me. I don’t fit the general profile for autistics. I have a deep emotional understanding but I lack logical intelligence that is usually paired with the diagnosis. My OCD traces are caused by my autism and the compulsive behaviors are mainly caused by anxiety. I suffered deep trauma in my childhood like both my brothers but unlike them I never emotionally distanced myself, this is why you can’t profile me Reid, I don’t fit the general profiles just like you,”He was surprised at her answer but considering what she just said he really shouldn’t have.

“Wow, that’s- that’s a lot. Wait, you profiled me?” He was genuinely surprised, she laughed at him, breaking her cold act. “No I didn’t, but most intelligent people are the same,” he nodded before laughing with her.

“So thanks to the BAU and our own Agents we’ve managed to catch this killer and he will soon be behind bars,” JJ announced on the news. The team were currently at Lestrades house having a drink. Reid kept looking over to Y/N, ever since they’d solved the case she’d been distant towards him, it hurt for some reason. He thought they were getting along, especially after they’d started to talk about Dr. WHO, guess not.

“Something wrong, Reid?” He turned and saw that the voice belonged to Lestrade, he nodded. “In my experience with the Holmes siblings, they rarely act like this unless it’s something that will actually impact them. You should talk to her, as much as she detests it she is like her brothers and when angry instead of being consumed by emotions like them she turns them off and goes all logical. Easy to have a conversation with if you watch your words,” When Spencer didn’t move Lestrade pushed him slightly making him go over to Y/N.

“Why are you ignoring me?” She turned to him, cup of tea in her hand, she sighed then gave him a strained smile. “Reid, go back to your team,” “Not until you tell me why you’ve been ignoring me?” She gave him a cold look before sighing again. “I have been ignoring you because I like you, Reid. You are going back to America so I am simply distancing myself to get used to not having you around any more. It’s all logical,”

“You like me?” he was genuinely surprised, he found Y/N cute and even had a bit of a crush on her, something he’d never admit to Morgan but he never thought she liked him back.

“Of course I like you. You are smart and cute and have these small quirks about you. You are funny and a geek and get almost every single of my pop culture references,” Reid just looked at her with fond eyes, she liked him back and was now rambling on about why. It was cute, really cute. He pressed his lips against hers, successfully muffling her rambles. She seemed surprised at first but soon reprocrated the kiss.

“WHO IS THAT GUY KISSING MY BABY SISTER!” The two geniuses broke apart, red and turned to the voice. Seems like Sherlock Holmes had invited himself in and based on the look in his eyes said one thing, the high functioning sociopath was not happy with Reid kissing his sister.

#spencer reid #reader insert #spencer reid x reader #autistic reader #spencer reid x autistic reader #criminal minds #bbc sherlock #Sherlock #big brother sherlock #holmes reader #sherlock holmes #crossover #fluff #cute

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queen-scribbles · 2 years ago

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The Long Burning Torch ch 4

FINALLY, another chapter in the @shepherds-of-haven 20′s AU, I think the last one was in September? which, eeesh.

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For once in her life, the time differences across Blest worked in Xaeryn’s favor. Jalis was far enough ahead of Haven she could call at what would be an almost unconscionably early hour local time and it was late morning on the receiving end. She thumbed absently through her notes as she listened to the ringing line.

“Aescar residence,” a neutral-toned, lightly accented woman answered after the fifth ring. “How may I help?”

“I was trying to reach Ms. Aescar. My name’s Xaeryn Shrike and I wanted to speak to her regarding the Solimer’s Torch pendent she contributed to the Artefacts of Blest exhibit.”

“And which newspaper do you work for….?” the woman’s tone had shifted cautious rather than neutral.

“Oh, none, my apologies,” Xaeryn twiddled a pencil between her fingers. “I should have been clearer– I’m not a newshawk, I’m a private detective.”

“Ah.” The lone syllable held markedly less suspicion. “Are you trying to learn who might have taken it by talking to Miss Ayla?”

“Yes. So she has been informed of its disappearance? I was led to believe there was some uncertainty in that regard.” Xaeryn doodled a mountain range in the corner of a page.

“The estate was informed,” the woman said, with good humor and unmistakably fond exasperation. “Miss Ayla’s off on one of her jaunts and we haven’t heard from her in over a week. Unless rumors have started spreading, she probably doesn’t know yet.”

Nuts. “So she isn’t there? Do you know when she’ll be back?”

“No, these trips rarely have a firm itinerary.” A pause. “If you’re investigating this, would you be in Haven?”

“I would, Miss...?” She paused mid-cloud doodle.

“Marja. The last time time I talked to Miss Ayla, she mentioned your museum holding some party for the people who contributed to this exhibit, items or financially. She said she might go, if she’s close enough by the date. Surprised me; fancy parties aren’t usually something she enjoys, but that would be a chance for you to chat her up if she shows.”

“Understood.” Xaeryn bit her lip. She’d have to ask Mr. Syndran or Shery about this party. “Thank you for your help, Miss Marja. If by some chance Ms. Aescar checks in with the estate in the next day or so, could you have her call me?” She rattled off her information, confirmed when Marja repeated it back. “Thank you again, have a good rest of your day.”

“You, too, Miss Shrike. Hope you get to talk to Miss Ayla.”

“As do I,” Xaeryn said wryly. “Goodbye.”

They both hung up at the same time, and Xaeryn stared out the window for a moment before calling Mr. Syndran’s office to ask about this party. She got Ms. Aerin, as expected, who explained about the Owners’ Gala (not just a ‘party’) and said she would see about getting Xaeryn in, but it was in just a couple days and last minute additions were sometimes tricky.

“I’ll call back later to see how it goes?” Xaeryn offered. “I have other leads to chase so I’ll be out most of the day.”

“That’s amenable,” Ms. Aerin confirmed. “Good day, Miss Shrike.”

Xaeryn dropped the phone back in the cradle and pushed to her feet. She needed more comfortable shoes, then it was time to hit the bricks for some real sleuthing.

---

It was a running, darkly-humored joke among the citizens of Haven that the city customs were a prototype or test run for part of Hael that lingered on in Blest. Long lines, overwhelmingly noisy and chaotic, high chance of a rude and condescending agent all too aware of the power they held over you... it was as if Taypt himself was in charge of the planning. Xaeryn knew the reason was more along the lines of Haven’s original planners not expecting their city to explode into being a major trade hub, let alone the de facto center of the known world. They hadn’t designed the city gates with the current level of traffic in mind, and had been so focused on marrying security to aesthetic, it would be a (very expensive) pain in the neck to overhaul them for the current needs.

Understanding the factors behind the circumstances didn’t make the interminable wait to get out of the city any less annoying. And getting back in would be worse--despite being a resident. Five seconds of face time with an agent who would skim her ID after an hour or more in line was almost injury added to injury. And the local travel line was shorter than for other territories. Finally, though, her turn came up to show her ID to a very bored-looking customs agent.

He barely looked at it. “Reason for leaving the city?” he droned, faint edge of street twang still clinging to the words.

“Investigating a case,” Xaeryn said, adding her PI License next to the ID.

He cocked a brow, now marginally more interested. “Sleuthin’ for the coppers or yourself?”

“Privately employed,” she answered crisply, tapping the word private on the license for emphasis.

“Think you’ll be out there long?” He slid both back across the counter.

“Hard to say,” she hedged, tucking both cards back in her handbag. “Could be an hour, could be most of the day, there’s really no way to tell.”

“Fair point,” the customs man said with a nod. “You’re good to go.”

Xaeryn nodded her thanks and headed for the patchworked shantytown that had grown up around the caravansary. It was mostly flophouses, a few rough-run stores and taverns for guards who didn’t feel like enduring the hassle of customs when they weren’t staying long before heading out with a new job. The sort of place that was generally unfriendly to lone visitors or upper class. Given she’d be considered both by the skells who populated the quasi-district, Xaeryn made sure to keep a close eye on her surroundings, note anyone who seemed to be paying her undue attention. If Red flipped his lid about her visit to Ashtown, she didn’t want to think about how much worse he’d worry if he knew where she was now. She had her knife and her wits, and those two in concert had gotten her out of many a scrape.

The watery mud that coated the ground made her glad she’d settled on trousers, though the wide cuffs did still swing perilously close to a puddle as she stopped to get her bearings. The flophouse behind her bore the moniker Zozzle, as if the owners couldn’t be bothered to come up with something better. It was also a fair description of most of its inhabitants, if the heady haze of alcohol permeating the air was any indication.

Xaeryn had been in this particular establishment once before for a case. Nothing seemed changed from then. She wondered if the proprietor would remember her. She gave her hat brim a slight tug and headed through the door, braced for even more pungent an atmosphere inside. It did not disappoint. She had to swallow hard to keep from tasting her breakfast again.

Once her eyes adjusted to indoor lighting after the sunny day, the first thing she noticed was the unfamiliar man behind the counter.

New management, then. Xaeryn sighed as she strode across the room. So much for any hope of familiarity breeding civility. Faint a hope as it had been.

The man gave her an unimpressed look from under a mop of shaggy dark blond hair. “Think you’re in the wrong place, gal.”

“I don’t,” Xaeryn countered with a tight smile. “I was wondering if any of your... regulars” --she glanced meaningfully at the cluster playing cards over by the window-- “picked up any extra work recently?”

He crossed his arms and sized her up. “What’s it to ya?”

Xaeryn didn’t flinch from holding his gaze. “I’m looking into some funny business concerning a caravan and thought if anyone here hired on as extra muscle they might have seen something regular couriers missed.” She arched a brow. “I’m familiar enough with the life to know the reflexes you hone.”

He scowled and scoffed in outright skepticism. “Pull the other’n. You?”

“I moonlighted as a caravan guard a couple years before the switch to sleuthing and hanging a shingle here.”

He snorted again, though his posture relaxed a fraction. “Haven’s a good place for that, doll.” His eyes narrowed. “You’re workin’ for yourself, then? You ain’t one of the buttons?”

She shook her head. “My client is, in fact, trying to keep the matter away from the police entirely, if we can. Professional reputations and all.”

He nodded, thought a moment. “Ferrin and Tala are th’ only two’ve mentioned extra work, some swanky courier service headin’ into the city, but if you’re feelin’ brave” --he gestured to the card players-- “Y’ can see what they give ya.”

“And the two you mentioned?”

“Haven’t seen Ferrin for a couple days, come to think of it. Tala I know headed out yesterday; caravan bound for Capra or Caprona, somethin’ like that.”

Damn. Xaeryn bit the inside of her cheek. “Thank you for the help, sir.” She fished out a handful of lyss and set them on the counter. “For your time.”

There were three missing teeth in his grin. “One-God’s blessin’ on ya, miss. Best a’ luck.”

“Thank you,” Xaeryn said as she headed for the table. She had a feeling she would need blessing and luck both.

That feeling proved correct; the card players weren’t able--or willing--to give her much. Just enough to make her confident Tala and Ferrin had worked for Whitestone Couriers and confirm Tala was off guarding a caravan. They hadn’t seen Ferrin, were cagey about why that might be or where she could find him.

If they thought the prospect of walking the streets would put her off, they had another think coming. Xaeryn thanked them for their time and headed back out to the streets. Where to start looking when she only had the vaguest description and no concrete hangouts to check...

After a few minutes deliberation, she turned to head a couple lanes over. There was a tavern, The Burnt Crown if memory served, that was generally popular with the denizens of this town. This time of day, it likely wouldn’t be too busy, but you never knew for sure around the caravansary.

---

The Burnt Crown was moderately busy, and as luck would have it, Xaeryn even found an acquaintance of Ferrin’s whose tongue was easily loosened by a couple deucalions.

“Why, ‘zactly, are you lookin’ for him?” the ash-haired man queried, thumping his third now-empty tankard down on the table. It tottered slightly from the force.

“I think he may’ve seen something that could help me solve a robbery,” she replied. “Just wanted to jaw a bit about his last few jobs, is all.”

Drunk as he was, Ash-hair gave her a keen look. “Oh, that’s all? His room’s at Zozzle, usually he likes to drink here like the rest of us, an’ I think he’s sweet on Nella.” He jerked his head toward the barmaid. “Doesn’t tend to stray far with his drinkin’. If you can track down one of them bettin’ rings folks ain’t supposed to run, might find him there.” He tapped the side of his nose and gave her a look. “But I dunno where you might find one a’ those, an’ ya didn’t hear it from me.”

“Mmhm.” Xaeryn sucked the inside of her cheek and arched a brow.

“Hand t’ the High Augar, sister. Chance and me ain’t never had a good enough relationship for me to tempt it like that, or I’d do better’n this for a livin’.”

Have to give him that. “Well, if you don’t personally know where these games occur, can you at least point me toward someone who does?”

Ash-hair nodded toward the barmaid again. “Part of why Ferrin’s stuck on her.”

Xaeryn thanked him, slid over a few more danar-- “next round’s on me” --and went to chat up Nella the barmaid.

---

Aside from Nella, it took three more chats and two more bribes to get a solid handle on where she’d likely find Ferrin. Her handbag was feeling mighty light as she headed for the caravansary corner furthest from Haven’s gates. Xaeryn sent up a prayer there wasn’t any kind of door fee for this game.

Something rustled down an alley adjacent to the house she sought, and Xaeryn unfastened the clasp on her handbag. The murmur of voices in exasperated debate reached her and she slipped a hand in the bag as she altered course to investigate.

The conversation hitched, quieted, and died with the change to her pace. She drew out her stiletto knife and approached the alley cautiously but deliberately, the blade held down out of sight. She reached the mouth of the alley, swung around the corner--

And found herself herself staring down the barrel of not one but two pistols.

One of which lowered immediately, as the blue-eyed blond wielding it ran an amiable if surprised look over her and commented with a grin, “You don’t look like you’re from around here.”

Xaeryn matched his rapid examination--still very aware of the pistol his copper-haired companion had aimed at her chest--and arched a brow. “Nor do you.”

He and the other three clustered in the alley all wore uniforms that made them stick out even more than she did with her tailored clothes, silver hound threaded on a black jacket, well-fitted trousers tucked into their boots so they weren’t fussed about the mud like she was. Their openly carried weapons had likely kept anyone from making trouble for them. Even if they had their badges tucked away, she couldn’t help wondering...

“What are Shepherds doing out here?”

“Cult huntin’,” the blond answered easily, though there was a hard edge to his smile.

“Trouble,” the dark haired man behind him barked, eying Xaeryn with open suspicion.

“What?” the blond(Trouble? Was that a nickname? an alias? How apt was it?) swung around, half-shrugging as he holstered his pistol and gestured in her direction. “Given who we’re lookin’ for, I’m pretty sure she ain’t involved.”

The copper-haired woman’s lips twitched toward a smile and she lowered her gun as well. Xaeryn caught the white streak in her braid as she flipped it over her shoulder. Hunter-blooded, but only in part, then. She’d heard the Shepherds took anyone worthy, regardless of heritage. Apparently that was more than rumor.

“He’s got a point, Blade,” the silver-haired woman even further back chipped in, tugging a loose curl as she sauntered closer to her compatriots. There was something familiar about her, but Xaeryn couldn’t put her finger on it. “Every member we’ve fingered so far was an underbelly or fringe type. Which doesn’t seem to fit our... new friend here.”

Xaeryn flicked imagined mud off her jacket at the comment. “And you think this cult is just... lurking down alleyways in disreputable districts?”

“Yeah, that has been how they operate sometimes,” Trouble replied, unruffled by her skeptical tone.

“And what are you doing out here, since you don’t exactly blend in yourself?” the one called Blade interjected sharply before she could ask anything more.

“Investigating as well, though I’m just looking for a thief, or someone who may have seen them. You haven’t happened to see a rangy fellow, light brown hair, one cloudy eye with a scar through it, have you?”

The four exchanged looks, all shaking their heads.

“Your thief?” the silver-haired woman asked.

“More likely a possible witness,” Xaeryn hedged, shifting her weight to one hip. Where did she know this woman from? She was usually so good with faces. “But I’m not ruling anything out too hastily.”

“A wise outlook,” Blade commented. “Best of luck with your search.”

She knew a dismissal when she heard one, and this bull session wasn’t accomplishing anything beyond chewing time anyway, for either of them. “You as well; good luck rooting out your cult.”

Trouble snorted a laugh, but that hard edge lingered on his expression. “Thanks. Think we’re done here, so the alley’s all yours if you need it.” A glance at Blade to confirm and then he nudged the copper-haired Hunter with his elbow. “Time to breeze, an’ it looks like you own me a lyss, Trick.”

Xaeryn stood aside to let the quartet depart, vaguely curious what wager he’d just won as the Hunter snorted and dug the money out of her pocket. She waited until the Shepherds had moved out of sight, then knocked on the door of the house.

There was no answer, but the scrape of wood on stone inside kept her confident this was the right place. She repeated the knock, a curious, rapid trio of taps that was the result of her second bribe. Supposedly the way in.

A few more heartbeats, then the door opened a crack. Light glinted off the sole visible eye of the individual who opened it, the gruff ‘help you?’ followed almost immediately by a snort as he noted her wardrobe. The door started to close, but Xaeryn stuck arm and foot both in the narrow gap.

“I’m looking for the game,” she said before the grubby man inside could react.

“Piss off, doll, wrong house,” he retorted, one hand still shoving the door as the other dropped to his hip.

A rough cheer went up behind him.

Xaeryn gave a tight smile. “Should we try that again, sir? I’m not looking to make trouble, and don’t intend to stay long, either.”

He dilly dallied, studying her closely for several long moments. “Who gave us up?”

“That would be telling,” Xaeryn said sweetly.

He grunted. “Least you can keep a secret.” He stepped back to let her in. “Start trouble an’ you’re out on your ass, lady or no, savvy?”

“Savvy.” She caught the flicker in his eyes when the dim light made her iladrin obvious, but he didn’t back down with that knowledge. Made her wonder if they’d had Mages in here before. She tucked her handbag firmly under her arm and stepped into the house.

It took a moment for her eyes to adjust, and when they did, she could see three rooms, each with its own game going under the light of guttering lanterns. She tugged on her jacket to straighten it and headed for the nearest game--something with dice and obscenely high stakes if the pile of coins and trinkets in between the two players was anything to go by. Xaeryn ran a casual but careful look around the room, irritated by the flickering shadows that made the task harder. Neither of the players, nor the small crowd huddled around them to goad and cheer and wait their own turns bore any resemblance to the man she sough. She watched a moment, as a trio of dice skittered across the table. The green-haired woman who’d thrown them barked a triumphant laugh, while her opponent, a dark-skinned man with a shaved head, swore viciously.

Xaeryn moved on to survey the other two games, but didn’t find Ferrin at those either. She toyed with asking to see the upstairs, or just ducking behind the sheet she was fairly sure hid the steps and looking without permission. But she had no guarantee Ferrin was here, just a tip he liked to gamble and this was the best place. No sense making a ruckus with those facts in play. She clicked her tongue in disappointment and headed back toward the door. Time for some more roaming-

Someone gave the coded knock as she approached and the doorman pointedly swung in front of her to answer it before she could exit. Xaeryn huffed as she waited out his vetting on the individual seeking entry. Fortunately for her patience, it only took a moment.

And the man he admitted was none other than her elusive quarry.

“Ferrin?” she blurted out and he froze in the doorway.

“What’s it to you?” he demanded, glancing back out at the street.

“I wanted to talk to y-”

He bolted.

Xaeryn growled and went after him, dodging the doorman when he tried to block her.

It was to Ferrin’s advantage that he knew the area better; one too-quick turn and he’d be lost to her. It was to her advantage that she was taller and very determined. She was just in time to see the tail of his jacket flutter ‘round a turn, and adjusted her speed to follow without landing in the mud.

Ferrin had scrambled atop a crate when she rounded the corner.

“I just want to talk-” Xaeryn hollered.

Ferrin ignored her, clambering up another crate that teetered under the weight and moving to climb on the roof of a house. The bottom crate buckled just before he reached it, rotted wood collapsing under the careless weight of someone in a hurry. He yelped a curse as the stack dumped him on the ground when it fell out from under him.

Xaeryn reached him before he made it to his feet, hauled him up, and pinned him against the wall with an arm twisted behind him back. “I just. Want to talk,” she reiterated.

“Ain’t got no truck with Mages,” Ferrin panted. “Ain’t done nothin’, ain’t seen nothin’-” He squirmed a bit and she pushed him more firmly against the filthy wall.

“Well, now, that puts me a bit behind the eight ball,” Xaeryn said conversationally, mind spinning. He had clearly bought into the superstitions about her kind, she could practically feel the nervous energy radiating off him at her being so close. “Because I think perhaps you did see something of value. At least, of value to me. If you won’t volunteer the information, I’ll have to think of something that could persuade you...” Her grip tightened on his wrist.

“Alright, alright!” He went lax against the wall. “Swear you won’t turn me into a... a toad or nothin’ and I’ll spill.”

“Of course not.” Xaeryn loosened her grip on his wrist, watching warily as he slipped free and stood between her and the wall. “I genuinely just want to talk; I think you may have seen something that would help.” She canted her head slightly. “I understand you had a job guarding a Whitestone Couriers caravan recently?”

He folded his arms across his chest as he nodded. “Pink-haired flit in charge wanted extra protection through the city. Didn’t ask why she was more jumpy ‘bout that than all the rough road they’d covered, didn’t care. Money’s money an’ I hadn’t had a decent job in weeks. Someone offers twice m’ rate with no hagglin’ I ain’t askin’ any questions beyond where they want me an’ when.”

Well, that was an intriguing revelation. Even more intriguing that Ms. Aerin hadn’t mentioned hiring extra guards. “And did you see anything out of the ordinary on the way to the museum?”

Ferrin paused a moment, started to shake his head, “No- Not til the end, just as we were pullin’ in the yard. I was posted on the last truck, see, so I could see the whole wagon train and behind us if I wanted. There was a mug kickin’ dust just outside the fence, thought I saw him try to touch or grab one of the trucks as it went past, an’ he slunk away soon as they were all in. Tried to be sly about it, but that’s the sorta thing I’m paid to catch. He headed down the alley and there weren’t any trouble unloadin’, so I took my deucalions an’ left without sayin’ nothin’. Figured it weren’t that important.”

“Did you see what this loiterer looked like?” Xaeryn asked, a suspicion forming in her mind.

“Average height, dark jacket, hat pulled low. Nasty scar on th’ side of his neck.” Ferrin shrugged. “Mighta hair green hair, but I couldn’t swear to it, ‘cause of the hat. Just saw a flash of it.”

That tears it. She needed to find this green-haired gentleman, regardless of Mr. Syndran’s conviction he was just a red herring of some sort. “Thank you. You’ve been... enlightening.” She fished through her handbag for the last full deucalion she had on her. “You more than earned this.”

Ferrin’s defensive stance loosened immediately and he reached for the money. “Autarch’s eyes, miss, y’ should have mentioned you was payin’ from the off.”

“You didn’t give me a chance,” Xaeryn said dryly. She cocked her head. “Why were you so convinced Mages had sent someone after you?”

He pocketed the coin, picked something out of his teeth. “May be there’s a small set of ‘em who feel I overcharged for gettin’ them here safely and didn’t hold it kindly when I made clear I don’t give refunds.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Did you? Overcharge?”

Ferrin shrugged, but started edging toward the mouth of the alley. “When your clients could be as much a danger as the surroundings, hazard pay’s a fair charge.” He bolted.

Xaeryn rolled her eyes but didn’t pursue. She had what she’d come for, and running after him would only reinforce whatever prejudices he held about Mages. Prejudices that were not entirely unwarranted, even if they were an annoyance. Only half a day in the caravansary town was better than she’d expected. She could have lunch at home. That would be nice.

---

Getting back through customs ensured it was a late lunch. It was a good thing her trek home went otherwise smoothly; hunger had her cranky by the time she unlocked the door. The key stuck a moment and she scowled as she wiggled it until it cooperated. Of course it picked now to stick-

The door opened and she slipped inside with relief. There was a sandwich calling her name, and she wanted nothing more than to heed it. Xaeryn kicked the door shut, started to unpin her hat, and froze.

A faint blue pattern spidered across the back of the door. When she’d rented this office, she’d had a warding sigil enchanted into the door, to warn her if anyone broke in. That it wasn’t the full, vibrant dark blue meant they hadn’t succeeded, but someone had tried today. Someone had tried to search her office. She looked down at the key still in her hand. That’s why it stuck...

Xaeryn sighed. Whoever it was hadn’t gotten in, and she was starving. She’d puzzle through this later. After lunch.

She devoured her sandwich and a small bowl of fruit at a truly unladylike pace, then turned her attention to the door. There wasn’t much to glean. Whoever had tried to pick the lock was very good; they’d only jammed a tumbler with the haste of withdrawing. Someone must’ve been coming. The sigil didn’t indicate how long ago it had occurred or anything, just that someone had tampered with the door. Which, granted, was its purpose--let her know if someone went through her office regardless of how careful they were to leave things looking undisturbed.

Dissatisfied but unable to do more--and very curious who had such an interest in her work--Xaeryn closed the door and sat at her desk to call Ms. Aerin. She had some questions, and getting into the gala had moved to the bottom of the list.

The line only rang twice before being answered with a crisp, “Whitestone Couriers, how may I help you?”

“Ms. Aerin, it’s Detective Shrike.”

“Ah, Miss Shrike, I presume you’re following up about the gala?”

“Yes, but I also had something else to discuss with you first,” Xaeryn said, twirling her pencil.

“Oh, something that relates to your investigations today?” An extra note of curiosity colored her voice.

“Got it in one.” She leaned back in her chair. “My pursuit took me out to the caravansary town-”

“Ah.”

“-where I met a man who said you hired him for twice his rate merely to have extra protection entering the city.”

“Twice his-” Ms. Aerin growled softly. “I offered what’s time and a half for our regular guards, to compensate for it being... so abrupt a recruitment. If I’d known his rates were normally that much lower...”

“I’m more interested that you hired him at all. As well as another woman? Was there a reason for that? And you didn’t mention it any of the previous times we spoke.”

“Gut instinct, to the first,” Ms. Aerin said with a sigh. “I had a feeling something would happen without knowing what and wanted to be prepared, if we could. I didn’t mention it because Riel- Mr. Syndran frowns upon hiring... unvetted individuals for jobs, particularly ones of that importance. I knew he wouldn’t approve, but I also wanted to protect the caravan. My instincts are usually bang on when it comes to business-related matters, and were again this time, you’ll recall.”

There was something to her tone, a familiar vehemence carried by people defending a decision they felt would be poorly received but still stood behind. It was admirable, and beyond that, made the explanation more believable. Xaeryn understood trusting your instincts. Right now hers were saying Ms. Aerin spoke truly.

“I do recall. I won’t volunteer this information to Mr. Syndran, but if he asks or it becomes pertinent to an explanation, I won’t hide it, either.”

“Fair. Was that all on the topic?”

“One more thing: did you happen to glimpse this green-haired fellow who keeps popping up?”

“I saw loiterers near the museum, but none that set off alarms,” Ms. Aerin said. “None that I noted with unusual hair, either.”

“Thank you.” Xaeryn tapped the pencil against her chin. “That’s all on the topic. Moving on to the gala?”

Ms. Aerin cleared her throat, professionalism in her tone. “Yes, of course. I was able to procure you the necessary invitations, but you’ll have to let me know the names and titles to give-”

“Plural?” Xaeryn interrupted, sitting straight. “Invitations, plural?”

“Oh, yes, Miss Shrike. It’s considered quite unseemly to attend this sort of event unaccompanied. Bordering on scandalous, and I doubt that sort of attention would help you with discretion.”

Xaeryn groaned and leaned forward, bracing her elbows against the desk as she rubbed at a sudden headache. “But I don’t-”

“Oh, come, Miss Shrike, you don’t have a single friend, family member... colleague even, who could attend with you?” Ms. Aerin’s voice was rife with skepticism. “It doesn’t need to be a romantic partner; I’ll be attending with Mr. Syndran, and I assure you, there’s nothing beyond business partnership there.”

“I-”

Red.

She sighed and pushed the thought away. “I’ll think of someone.”

Ask Red.

“Do it quickly; I need to get the information to the doorman by tomorrow afternoon, the following morning at the latest, if you actually want to get in.”

“Right. ...That’s all, Ms. Aerin. Thank you.”

“Glad I could help. Oh, and Miss Shrike. I’m sure this goes without saying, but the gala is black tie.” She hung up and Xaeryn sat frozen, staring at her telephone a moment before she did the same.

Then she leaned forward with another groan until her forehead rested on the desk. “What do I do?”

Ask. Red. He’s your friend, Xaeryn, you know he’d come to help you out.

Which was, of course, exactly why she hesitated. The doors that would open... She wasn’t sure she was a strong enough woman.

The telephone rang. Xaeryn picked her head up off the desk and shifted professional before answering. “Xaeryn Shrike.”

There was a warm laugh, then, “I just lost a five lyss wager that you’d be out investigating rather than in the office.”

Her heart skipped a beat, her hand tightening around the receiver. “Liefred.”

“Everything alright, Xaer?” He must have picked up on something in her voice; his had gone concerned. “Is this a bad time?”

“Oh. No.” Never. Not for you. “Just a lot on my plate, has me a little frazzled.”

Ask him.

She pointedly ignored the thought. “Who... were you wagering with whether I’d be in my office?”

“Oh, myself,” Red laughed. “Though I am surprised to catch you in.”

“I needed to make a call. Came back for lunch and to take care of that.”

“My good luck on the timing, then. I have some more information for you.”

She smiled and ran a hand over her hair. “Where do you find time to do all this extra research for me, Headmaster Antiqua?”

“I told you, I always have time for you, Ryn.” He cleared his throat. “Though, in this case, it was Pan’s research, actually. Lineage and genealogy have always been more his forte.”

Xaeryn winced and bit her lip. “...And what did you tell him when you roped him into helping?” she asked, trying for a light teasing tone. This was supposed to be a secret, but Red was the worst liar she’d met in her life(and her line of work meant she’d met a lot), so him trying to give Pan a cover story might’ve been more of a giveaway something was up than telling the truth.

Red laughed. “He volunteered, I’ll have you know. And all I said was I needed it for a research project.”

“Alright.” Not that she didn’t trust Pan, but Mr. Syndran had said as few outside people as possible. “What did he find?” If she focused on the business aspect maybe she could drown out the urging in the back of her mind regarding a certain gala and her best friend.

“Most of the ten or so people claiming to have, well, a claim on Solimer’s Torch have gaps of at least a few generations in the genealogies, some even more than that, so they’ve mostly resigned themselves to defeat.”

“Most? So there’s at least one with a stronger claim?” Xaeryn asked, pencil in hand and notebook open now. This sounded important.

“Mm.” Red’s voice muffled a moment, and she smiled picturing him wedging the receiver between his jaw and shoulder to have both hands for shuffling through notes. “Strongest--and loudest--claim is actually the king of Elinden. There’s a couple spots just murky enough--rights of conquest and what have you--that he hasn’t been able to supersede the current owner’s rights. I think I saw something in the papers about him being in Haven for some gala or something; maybe you could talk to him.”

There’s your opening, ask him. Xaeryn gripped her pencil so tight it snapped, the words refusing to come up her throat, swirling and stuck in her chest. Come with me. Just like when she’d left after graduation. She gave herself a little shake and hoped her voice wasn’t too strained when she found it. “Maybe so, I’ll look into it. And the others?”

“Oh, there’s a couple with stories of great-great-great grandparents who share names with known figures from Jalis, but nothing solid... A warlord with a complete oral genealogy tying him to one of the owners of the pendent, but no written records, because people in the Jalis desert didn’t keep written records until less than a hundred years ago. It’s all oral tradition and maybe stone grave markers. Ms. Aescar, the current owner, is lucky; enough of her ancestors warranted said markers to establish an acceptable genealogy for provenance to go to her.”

“So if I were to investigate one of these others...” Xaeryn let it trail off as she dug for another pencil.

“I’d hazard if any of them actually did anything, it’s the Elinden one,” he said. “Good job he’s about to be in your backyard, huh?”

Ask him, ask him, ask him!

“Mmhm.” She found a pencil but just twirled it between her fingers.

“You sure everything’s alright, Xaer?” There was a creak as if Red was leaning against his desk. “You sound distracted.”

“Just a lot to keep straight with this case,” she said with a laugh.

....ask him...

“Find any leads today?”

“I did, actually, and it’s around the museum, so you don’t have to worry about me traipsing through rough neighborhoods,” she teased, leaving off that she found that lead traipsing through a quintessential rough neighborhood.

“Ah, good. I don’t know if my heart could take it,” Red teased back.

“Busy days ahead...?” It was half friendly banter, half searching for an excuse he wouldn’t be able to come even if she invited him. Didn’t help when she knew he’d drop just about anything if she asked, anyway.

“No more than usual, maybe even a little lighter,” he said, voice going soft. “I’m just a worrier by nature, Ryn, you know that.”

“I do.” She bit her lip, the invitation once again stuck halfway up her throat. “No need for it to be on my account, currently, at least.”

“Good to know,” he said warmly. “Well, I’ll let you get back to work, hm? If there’s so much on your plate?”

Xaeryn laughed. “Thank you. And thank you--and Pan--for the information. It’ll be a big help.”

“I’m glad. Bye, Ryn.”

“Goodbye, Liefred.”

She hung up and dragged her hands down her face, mentally cursing her cowardice before giving herself a shake and turning to transcribing what he’d told her in her notebook. She hadn’t written a word while he was talking, and this would be important. Looked like the gala would be a chance to kill two birds with one stone.

Assuming she could muster the nerve to invite a proper escort in time.

-----

Like I’m gonna pass up the chance for these two idiots to have an existential crisis pine over each other in formal wear :D

The extra Shepherds with Blade and Trouble are my Trick and @haledamage’s Iorwen, who looks vaguely familiar to Ryn bc they’re both Circle Mages, so would have at least met each each other as teens.

#queens fic #shoh #xaeryn shrike #red antiqua #tlbt #ryn/red

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peralta-guaranteed · 3 years ago

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(inspired by this ask the lovely @fourdrinkamy got!)

“Oh!” The Sergeant smiles widely at her phone before looking up, surveying the little group that’s gathered around her. “Do you guys mind if my husband joins us for a minute? He’s just gotten off his shift.”

There’s the typical rushed murmur of agreement and “of course not!” before Amy begins writing something on her phone.

“Who’s her husband?” One of the rookies asks in a hushed tone at the other end of the bar where the new team members had sort of congregated - they’d been a bit too timid to sit closer with the rest of the uniformed officers that Amy had invited out for drinks at Shaw’s after a particularly tough week for them.

“Detective Peralta from the first floor.” One of the less rookie-ish rookies (god they really need a better labeling system for that) answers, much to the first askers surprise.

“The... uh... the goofball?”

Gary a few seats beside them grins. That was probably the nicest descriptor the poor woman could’ve thought of when being reminded of the chaos-made-human that sometimes descended from the first floor unto theirs, bringing with him stories of crazy heists or trying to rope some of them into his convoluted plans during bigger meetings of the precinct.

“Yeah. He’s a bit odd.” Rookie Level 5 (hm, maybe that’s not a good labeling plan either) nods. “Sometimes I wonder what the Sarge sees in him, but she married him, so...” He shrugs.

“Hard to imagine someone as professional and high-strung as Sergeant Santiago going for that kind of crazy.”

“Well, you never know.” Rookie Level 5 (now marked down as bit of a creep he should keep an eye on after that wink and laugh, Gary thinks) answers.

And they really don’t know, he thinks. He doesn’t fault them for that - it took quite a while for him to figure it out too, only presented with the Santiago-Peralta team in ‘professional’ settings that Jake always tried to make as unprofessional as possible while Amy next to him huffed and tried to keep them both in the lane.

They’ll probably understand faster than him, though, given the current setting. The soft shock on all their faces when the sergeant turned up for this casual get-together in a flowery, dark-coloured dress instead of the well-pressed suit they all expected from her even out of uniform had already unsettled their pre-conceived imagie of her a little bit.

Gary’s musings are quickly interrupted by a very loud, very boisterous voice.

“Eyoh! Look at New York’s Finest drinking some of New York’s worst!”

Amy rolls her eyes at him with a fond smile while Jake makes his way through the group, greeting most of them with another joke that only half of them understand, but most laugh at out of politeness, until he settles down next to her. There’s a moment of hesitation in his movements before he leans over to kiss her cheek, as if he’s afraid she might actually pull away in this setting - he’s definitely not afraid to kiss her hello when he visits her at her desk downstairs, but it’s a different feeling to this, all eyes of her squad on them, so he quickly leans back again to grin at them all and make another quip about drink recommendations in this place if they really want to get to know each other, winkwink.

Rookie Level 1 (yeah, it really doesn’t work) scoffs and shoots Rookie Level 5 (damn, it’s kind of stuck though) a look that he repeats with a nod. Peralta is really making sure to cement their image of him for the next few minutes - immediately pulling the situation to him as the class clown that he is, entertaining the closer row of officers near him with some new story from upstairs that only half sounds over-exaggerated. He’s all swinging arms and loud noises and wide grins, and Gary wonders if any of the others are able to make out the little details that belie his persona or if he’s just too aware of them now himself.

The way he’ll turn towards Amy at the end of every story with his grin, as if waiting for her reaction first and foremost, and only continuing when he sees her smile even as she shakes her head. The fact that he remembered all of their names in his comical greetings, and even tries to pull in the rookie group at the end of the bar into the conversation. The slightest hint of a serious face inbetween his rambling, his eyes doing a quick once-over of the whole bar and their group as if to make sure everyone’s still okay - a detective skill he clearly can never turn off.

It’s not much - it’d give away the game if it was any more obvious - but it’s enough for Gary to remember that underneath all the bravado and jokester behaviour, he’s still Sergeant Amy Santiago’s husband, and for a reason.

-*-

That reason shows itself about twenty minutes later, when his first beer is finished and the conversations of the group have broken back into their own areas, talking about their week or about upcoming assignments, sharing academy anecdotes or first-arrest-stories. Gary is sure detective Peralta would happily jump into these talks as well if he only heard them, but there’s no way he’s listening to anything but Amy next to him, a tad too noisy after her second beer as she tells him about something that happened at work today.

Gary tries his best to catch Rookie Level 1′s attention, and diverts it towards the pair with an eyebrow raise and a soft side-nod of the head.

“Oh.” Level 1 (her name is Lisa, he thinks? He needs to check the rooster.) says, quietly, and he nods again. She sees. (She’s a quick one, he really needs an eye on her for future assignments.)

And what she sees is proof enough of what the Sarge sees in her goofball husband, too.

They’ve seem to have gone into their own little bubble after the main attention drifted away from them, talking in hushed tones about their son and how someone had just texted them an update on the babysitting evening. And within that bubble, it almost seems like someone had cut the strings of the muppet-like actions of the Peralta they all know.

His whole body language seems to shift - his shoulders are hanging low as he leans closer and closer to Amy next to him, his face in his hand as he hooks his arm over the backrest behind her, his eyes stuck on her and whatever story she’s telling him about right now. There’s the softest smile on his face, and a shine to his eyes as she animatedly - almost as animated as he usually is - talks between hiccups from the beer she’s drinking a little bit too fast.

The air has gone out of him, but not in a bad way - he’s far more settled than usual, like someone dialed down his usual speed. He still grins and nods and raises his eyebrows high in reactions to what Amy is saying, but he also absent-mindedly reaches over and tucks a stray piece of her hair behind her ear, his hand trailing down her neck for a second after it. Gary’s sure that as it drops down underneath the table, it definitely reaches for hers to hold.

“Yeah��, Lisa (it’s definitely Lisa, he remembers her introducing herself to him a few weeks ago more clearly now) nods towards him, quietly and with a smile. “Yeah, I get it.” as Peralta leans even closer to Amy, whispers something soft into her ear that makes her giggle, and giggle a little more when he presses a little kiss right beside her ear.

He stands up, out of the bubble, and withing seconds the persona is back as he grins at them all.

“Welp, I better take my wife home before I have to carry her home.” He extolls, before - of course - looking down again with a smile. “Just joking, babe, I know you can hold your own when it comes to New York’s Worst at Shaw’s.”

The Sergeant rolls her eyes again, but she also takes his offered arm as she stands up, tells them all to have a good rest of the night and enjoy their weekend off properly, and they could catch the slightest of winks into Jake’s direction from her if they only looked close enough.

He loops an arm around her waist as he says his goodbyes as well, and uses it to both support her and steer her as they leave, Amy clearly a bit less sure on her feet than she usually is. He wraps her scarf around her neck at the clothesrack at the front of the bar, tugs her jacket down after she’s slipped into it with waving arms and buttons the last few buttons for her that her fingers fumble at, and Lisa smiles at Gary as Amy stumbles for the door and is immediately held at bay again by her husband’s soft grip on her arm.

“Yeah, I can see it.” She says, and Gary nods.

#B99 #Brooklyn 99 #Peraltiago #Jake Peralta #Amy Santiago #my writing #ficlet #fic

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gb-patch · 4 years ago

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Ask Answers: April 13th, 2021

And we’re back again with more replies so soon, haha. Thank you for the asks!

Your game literally saved me this hell ass year. Thank you so much for the most perfect piece of art I've ever laid eyes on 😫 ... Do you guys have a rough idea when step 3 DLC will be released? I hope I'm not coming off as rude. I just really really love your game.

I’m sorry for the late reply on this! You might’ve already seen the answer by now, but the Step 3 DLC is coming out on the 16th. We’re almost there :D

This may be a silly question but did Jeremy's parents ever find out that Pran had lied about his age and if so, when/how? :3

Pran came clean to them after a couple of years, when he felt secure enough that it wouldn’t ruin the relationship. The Kings were a little embarrassed, the dad more than the mom, but they’re quite good at brushing past those kind of mistakes so it was all water under the bridge pretty fast.

hi! i know you’ve answered a question about alterations in the our life moments by playing them in different orders, but i was wondering if there was a canon order that the moments for each step happen in? i figure with such a customizable game the “canon” timeline for the moments is whatever order the player completes them in, for example in step 1, i like playing the runaway moment pretty early, since cove trying to run away early in summer makes more sense to me personally. thanks!

Yeah, there’s no canon order we’d insist on. Whatever you like can be the official route for you! And that’s a neat way to look at that event.

What if your character isn’t that into physical contact but still wants to be in a relationship with Cove? Would he be offended if you shy away or something along those lines?

He wouldn’t be. Cove knows how hard that can be and is very understanding. If you set his initiative to low, the game always checks to make sure if you want to be touched or not rather than assuming that you do. And if you do choose that you don’t want to, there’s no stress or drama about it. Cove will just say that’s okay!

Hellu! First off, I want to thank you all for such a wonderful game, it's been the best feel-good game I've ever stumbled upon and I can't express enough how much it has meant to me. Second, I've seen lots of people having trouble with making Cove confess before MC which makes me wonder if people will have the same problem in the dlc when you can propose to him. Is it possible to post a guide for that as well when it no longer could count as a spoiler? Again, thanks for such a beautiful game <3

I’m really happy you had such a nice time with it c:. We’ll answer questions about it on tumblr/in the discord if they come up and, if need be, we’ll find somewhere to upload a guide.

Do we get steam key from buying dlc on itch io?

I’m afraid not. That’d be unfair to those who get it on Steam. Plus, Steam isn’t super cool with giving out thousands of keys to be handed out for free on other sites anymore. They can refuse to give us the keys if they feel we’re trying to take advantage of their system.

hi! so if we reject cove's confession in step 3, can we still have MC and cove get together in step 4?

You can confess to him, yeah. But Cove won’t ever try confessing again if the MC turns him down in Step 3.

What if MC acts like someone Cove doesn't like, like Lizzie or Baxter lol

You can’t do what Lizzie or Baxter does to make Cove dislike them. You can play the game and try, but it doesn’t work out. The MC is just too compatible with Cove if you’re fond/crush/love, haha.

Hi! I absolutely love your game, I love the characters they’re all so amazing, thank you for the game haha

I was wondering if you would get the NSFW DLC no matter what Patreon level you were at, or if you would could get it at any level? :)

What pateron tier do we need to get the 18+ content for Our Life? It's my new favourite game, keep up the good work!

It will eventually be available at the $5 tier and anything above that! Glad you both like OL ^^

On a scale from 1 (being the worst) to 10, how well do the XOXO jerk squad including JB handle horror?

JB: 8

Everett: 5

Nate: 4

Shiloh: 10

Bae: 10

Jeremy: 8 for non-gore horror, 2 for gory horror

Pran: 9

hello!! i was wondering if any of the boys from the Jerksquad would ever wear a skirt/dress?

None of them wear skirts/dresses out of personal preference. But if there was some kind of reason where they had to do it, none would be that bothered.

How does the jerk squad feel about Christmas?

Everett: He fucking loves it. That’s the best time of year.

Nate: Commercialized nonsense.

Shiloh: It’s wonderful! So he claims.

Bae: He likes it quite a bit, but only for the joy it brings children/family. He thinks that’s sweet but is too mature to be whipped up into a festive fervor himself.

Jeremy: It’s awful.

Pran: He hates it.

does cove have any pet allergies? yes I know this is a little weirdly specific

He doesn’t! The lucky boy isn’t allergic to any animal.

Very important question: Would Lee and a musical-theatre loving MC run around belting Into The Unknown from Frozen 2? Because I feel that they would

Probably, haha.

This might seem like a dumb question, so I’m sorry, but with the Derek DLC are we gonna get to hang out with him in person instead of just calling him in step 3?

The Derek DLC adds events in Step 2 and Step 4. It’s part of his story that you don’t really get to be around him in Step 3. But you don’t need to apologize for wondering!

hello! i'd like to ask if it's possible to play the android version of the game with the dlcs after buying the dlcs from steam. i wasn't expecting my android version to have my dlcs since i bought them from steam, but it had my step 2 dlc for some reason. is this a glitch or does the apk actually detect what dlcs you already have on your pc? if so, how come i don't have the step 1 dlc appearing on android? thanks!

That is some kind of glitch. It isn’t possible for the Android DLCs to be unlocked by having them on PC. Maybe in one of the old builds we accidentally didn’t lock the Step 2 DLC properly. Sorry for the confusion!

Does Derek and Baxter have canon sexualities? Will Derek still flirts with the MC regardless of their gender?

They’re both pansexual and can like the MC regardless of what gender they have.

I was wondering if Miranda had a crush on Cove in Step 3? I'm not sure why, but I got those vibes from her?

She thinks of him only as a friend. Cove isn’t her type, haha.

This is probably a dumb hope, but I hope Cliff find someone he loves after Cove is grown up and everything. Or at the very least he has someone he's very close with after Cove leaves.

That’s a really sweet thought to have. Cliff stays single, but he’s graysexual and not-particularly romantically inclined. He only dated when he was really young ‘cause that’s what everyone did. Family and friend relationships are more important to him, and he has plenty of that in his life ^^.

Heya! I was curious if there might be a nickname system in N&F? I kind of pull an Elizabeth when I play and choose a different variation of a name like having Rosie in step one and changing it to Rose in step two, then maybe Rosetta in step three for example, but it also feels a little bit odd being scolded using my nickname hehe. That's all I was wondering about, thank you for your time and the wonderful games!

We are hoping to include the option to go by a nickname in Our Life: Now & Forever. But nothing has been programmed yet, so we can’t 100% guarantee it, haha.

Just curious, what would Liz's and Cove's relationship be if MC wasn't around? I feel like they wouldn't get along as well as they do now, especially during the first and second step

They’d definitely have a lot of friction growing up and they’d likely avoid each other as much as possible. Once they were both older, I imagine they’d be decent neighbor acquaintances. But they still wouldn’t be nearly as close as they are with the MC bringing Cove into things.

What do the customizable eyes look like in the game? Do they look as they are in the creating avatar section? Or do they look different when actually playing the game?

That’s up to you! The doll is just meant to be a general idea. You can apply it to your imagined MC as much or as little as you prefer.

Did Cove go through a "phase" during his adolescence? I don't really wanna headcanon it so I wonder if there's anything (cringy) canon since we missed out on the ages of 14-17 hahaha

Not really, aha. 14-17 Cove is pretty recognizable to his 13 and 18 year old self.

Hello! I'm sorry to bother you, especially with all the messages you get. I was just wondering if the religious wedding venue was exclusive to a church or if there will be different religions of weddings? Also, I love this VN so much, it's so well written and every character is so amazing, thank you for making such a beautiful game.

The church is treated as a historic building rather than anything actively religious, but it’s not the only option like that. There’s a historic synagogue and stuff too! And that’s really nice of you to say <3.

How differently would it play out If MC told their moms about the 20$ deal back when it happened?

They wouldn’t have been happy and would’ve been far more skeptical of Cliff, aha. But they wouldn’t want to keep Cove away from the MC, so it wouldn’t have been too different in the long run.

Hello may I ask what Cove's favorite fudge/ice cream flavor would be? Its alright if its not answered

He appreciates them all, but his top favorites would be the fruit flavored ones and the ones with nuts.

Hi! I really wanted to make mc's house in a game and tried really hard to figure out the floor plan, but I wondered if you have the floor plan of the mc's house so that i can try again with more accuracy?

Thank you a lot for this game, i loved it a lot! (my first play took me 8 hours lol)

I’m really sorry, we don’t have anything like that. But at least you can headcanon that what you did is correct and nothing can prove it wrong, haha.

Hello,I recently started playing lake of voices (I put it off for a long while since I’m usually not very good with horror) and I’m really happy I did!I’m a big fan of your games in general and lake of voices was absolutely great as well.I loved the characters and the dark setting of it,I adored the beautiful art and music and the story was great too,sometimes unsettling and sometimes very sweet.My favorite Route in the game was definitely Lu,I liked his character and was really shocked and distraught by his Route at least two times.I didn’t see the plot twist(s) coming at all!

Besides these ramblings I’ve also wanted to ask if you still remember how to get the lower two CGs on page 5?I seem to always miss them and would appreciate any help.Anyways I hope I wasn’t too much of a bother and I wish the devs a great day!:)

Thank you for all the kind words <3. You get those DLCs by going through the end of the Guide’s character path. You can use the guides on Steam to help you find it/reach the end!

—– —– —– —–

Thank you again for all of these questions :D

We released a new FAQ! It answers common questions and we’ll keep adding more to it. Please check there before sending an ask. FAQ Also, if you prefer to just see the main posts without all the asks/reblogs, feel free to follow our side account instead: GB Patch Updates Blog

#our life #xoxo droplets #lake of voices #ask #Our Life Beginnings & Always #ourlifeba #gb patch #gb patch games

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little-mad · 3 years ago

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Little Details of the Big Picture Pt. 1

~ Next Part ~

Rael didn’t like lying. Well that wasn’t entirely true. He didn’t mind lying to people he wasn’t fond of. Somehow, Gavin had come to be someone who fell outside that category–therefore Rael found keeping the truth from him to be rather unpleasant.

“Hold on, I thought I was your assistant or whatever,” Gavin pointed out from where he stood on top of the chest of drawers. “Shouldn’t I be going with you on this job?” He had his little arms folded over his chest. Rael was sure he was intending to come across as stern, but given his size, it wasn’t quite as effective as Gavin may have hoped.

“It’s not suitable for a human to be engaged with,” Rael stated as he pulled on his boots.

The Emperor had been very specific with his instructions: Rael was not to make Gavin aware of the nature of this mission–despite the fact, or perhaps all the more because of the fact, that the matter directly pertained to the human.

Gavin scowled. “And why is that?”

“I should have known he wouldn’t just let it go,” Rael thought to himself. If there was one thing he’d learned about Gavin early on, it was that he wasn’t the type to back down easily. It was the very trait that had pissed Rael off so much in the beginning. While now he admired it to a certain extent, it still proved to be quite the pesky attribute to contend with.

“Because despite being my assistant, you are still a foreigner,” Rael said, meeting Gavin’s gaze. “I’m certain you wouldn’t expect the human government to divulge all its secrets to me, would you?”

“First of all, there’s no ‘human government’.”

“And second of all?”

“Second of all, I don’t like not knowing what’s going on!”

Rael sighed as he stood up from the bed. He could understand Gavin’s frustration to an extent, but being a soldier meant frequently only being given a fraction of the details, so he himself had become somewhat accustomed to being kept in the dark.

“There’s nothing I can do, orders are orders,” he told Gavin, and it was the complete truth. “You’re going to have to accept that.” He stepped up in front of the chest of drawers. Even with the added height of the piece of furniture, Gavin was still a ways below Rael’s line of sight.

The little human gave a petulant huff, and Rael had to hold back a smile. Despite his best efforts, he couldn’t help but find Gavin to be kind of…well cute. He had come a long way from his days of viewing all of humankind as only slightly above the level of “pest.” Now that he had spent an extended period of time around one of them, it was hard not to be endeared by the novelty of a miniature person. Or perhaps it had more to do with Gavin in particular than humankind as a whole. Rael couldn’t be sure.

“So what exactly am I supposed to do while you’re gone?” Gavin questioned, neck craned back so he could see Rael’s face.

This part Rael had least been looking forward to. This was when he had to reveal to Gavin that he would have to spend the day with a stranger essentially acting as a glorified babysitter.

Honestly, Rael wasn’t especially fond of the situation himself. He didn’t like the idea of leaving Gavin in another alteon’s hands–which, of course, was a strictly professional sentiment and nothing more. He had been assigned to keep Gavin safe after all.

“The Emperor hand selected one of his attendants to keep you company for the day,” Rael explained as he laid his hand out on top of the chest of drawers for the human to be able to climb onto. “I’m to take you to her before I head out.”

Despite Gavin’s small size, Rael was still able to detect the way the man stiffened. His shoulders had become tense, and he shifted his weight nervously. He glanced down at the waiting palm, but made no move to get on. “ You’re going to leave me with some random giant?” he demanded.

Rael released a soft sigh. Under normal circumstances he would have reprimanded Gavin for calling an alteon “giant.” They had come to an agreement a while ago that Rael would not refer to humans as “tiny people” so long as Gavin didn’t call alteons “giants.” Gavin had just gone bad on that deal, but given the situation, Rael let it go.

“If the Emperor trusts her, then I do as well–and therefore, so should you,” he said firmly. As much as he disliked the idea of entrusting someone else with Gavin’s safety, he knew he could rely upon the Emperor’s judgement.

Gavin, however, still looked unconvinced.

A glance at the clock on the wall revealed that Rael was quickly becoming in danger of being late. He looked back to Gavin, whose little feet were still planted on the top of the dresser.

It was evident that the human still wasn’t comfortable with the situation, but unfortunately Rael hadn’t the time to try to make him feel better about it. He twitched his index finger impatiently. “We have to go.”

Gavin glared up at Rael, looking prepared to make things difficult. However, the spark of defiance fizzled out after a moment and he begrudgingly stepped aboard Rael’s palm.

Once he had dropped the reluctant Gavin off with the chosen attendant, Rael had made his way directly to the Emperor’s office. He now stood in front of the desk at which the monarch sat. Meanwhile, an advisor by the name of Maris was positioned in the corner of the room, a thick stack of parchment in her hands.

Rael had already had two meetings with the Emperor and Maris–both of which had been concerning the mission on which Rael was set to soon begin. It was still difficult for him to believe that he was one of a very small number who even knew about this particular matter.

“I trust everything went accordingly with Gavin Stone?” the Emperor inquired in that smooth voice of his.

Rael nodded. While he didn’t enjoy lying to Gavin, he understood the necessity of it. The Emperor knew that at this juncture, informing the human that he may have been involved in an alteon plot would only serve to worry him, as well as possibly even put him in greater danger. Gavin was better off in the dark until they discovered their culprit–that is, assuming that there actually was one to discover.

“Excellent,” the Emperor said before turning over his shoulder to look at his advisor. “You have the portal stone?”

“Of course,” Maris replied as she produced the engraved piece of rock from the satchel strapped across her chest. “It is the very same you used for your previous visit to the human realm,” she told Rael before stepping forward and handing it off to him.

The smooth stone felt familiar in Rael’s hand. It remained the same as it had been, meanwhile he had changed quite a bit since he had first held it.

“Everything is all settled with the humans,” Maris stated, interrupting Rael’s straying thoughts. “They will do what they can to aid your investigation.”

“Of course,” the Emperor spoke up. “You should not say anything to them that might suggest an alteon could have been involved in Gavin Stone’s case.” That much Rael had been expecting. They didn’t need unsubstantiated rumors fluttering around amongst the humans.

“Be certain you keep track of time, and do not do anything that may cause widespread alarm, and–”

The Emperor held up a hand to halt Maris’ string of warnings. “We have been over this all already,” he said. “Rael knows how to conduct himself.”

It was true that Rael had already had the rules and stipulations of his mission firmly impressed upon him. A lot of it was the same as the first time he had visited the human realm. Seeing as he would be comparatively massive to everything and everyone, there were quite a lot of little details he had to be aware of. Any misstep on his part could easily cause a panic on the part of the humans.

Of course, he couldn’t blame Maris for being fastidious. This investigation was highly important, and if it was to be successful, it needed to be done properly. Honestly, Rael wasn’t sure why someone of his low rank was assigned such a critical role. He was not the only soldier who had visited the human realm before. There were a number of others–even ones which had been there multiple times. Surely they would have been a better option?

Rael’s apprehension must have been more easily detectable than he would have liked, either that, or the Emperor was just skilled in reading people. “I have great faith in you,” he said, ardently meeting Rael’s gaze. “I have no doubt you will be successful.”

It was difficult for Rael to understand why the Emperor seemed to place so much trust in him. Still, he was honored and intended to do everything in his power to prove himself worthy of that trust.

#idk for sure how many parts there will be #but there will in fact be multiple #g/t writing #my writing #oc: gavin stone #oc: rael #g/t

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dabi-does-cocaine-fight-me · 3 years ago

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Hallucinations

Dabi x Shigaraki One-Shot

Warnings: So ooc, bugs, slight gore if you squint really hard, swearing, rOmAnCe, fEeLs, omg cliché

Shigaraki strolled into the League of Villains’ bar, wiping the blood off his hands with a discarded, musty towel. His gaze swept over those present in the room, hidden by the obstructing hand on his face. Toga was sitting at one end of the bar with Spinner, giggling obnoxiously at his dramatic hero imitations. Twice perched on a barstool at the opposite end of the bar, staring sullenly into the distance while puffing leisurely on a cigarette. Meanwhile, Kurogiri stood behind the counter, polishing glasses in a dutiful, restless manner, while Dabi lounged on an old moth eaten couch. Across from him, Compress made a move on the chessboard the two shared.

All of them eyed Shigaraki as he stepped further into the room, clearing his throat to get their attention. The effect was immediate. Toga and Spinner fell silent, Twice came out of his trance, and Dabi’s posture straightened slightly.

“News, Tomura?” Mr. Compress questioned. Shigaraki’s head turned in his general direction and gave an almost imperceptible nod.

“Different factions of the yakuza are still at war, competing for control now that they’ve removed Overhaul. One of the factions was delivering me a shipment of illegal drugs…I was expecting to use it to create more of those quirk destroying bullets, but it was intercepted by Ryukyu, Selkie and a few U.A. brats,” he reported in a bitter tone. He clearly wasn’t happy about how events had transpired.

“And all that blood on your hands, you slip and fall into Kool-Aid, boss?” Dabi snickered. Shigaraki turned to him and flexed his fingers, the unspoken threat apparent.

“How would you like to find out?” Tomura intoned quietly. Dabi scoffed, unfazed by the hostility.

“Well, you know, if you weren’t an insufferable dick and gave us straight answers…” he shrugged maladroitly. An unsteady and tense silence had fallen over the room, and everyone present was waiting to spring into action, should the need arise. Kurogiri inched closer, recalling the volatility present in the two’s previous encounters. Shigaraki and Dabi were continuing to stare at each other, Tomura’s demeanor calm and collected, Dabi’s wary yet relaxed. As they eyed each other quietly, Dabi realized Shigaraki was balancing all his weight on one leg and holding-no, more like nursing- his right arm. His gloves were absent. Tomura detected his examination and shot Dabi a nasty glare as their eyes met, daring him to say something. Kurogiri observed this interaction and decided it was time to step in, before things went any further.

“Tomura, where did all the blood come from?” he inquired, making sure to keep his tone level and to keep from sounding interrogating so as not to anger Tomura further. Shigaraki tore his gaze away from Dabi, muttering a response.

“One of the yakuza factions at war with the one I employed recognized me. Overhaul followers…one had a paralyzing quirk,” he seethed. It had hurt his pride immensely to have been surprised so easily, pinned so effortlessly, paralyzing quirk or no, and having that scarred idiot examining him only pissed him off worse. Kurogiri’s mist blew slightly, a draft from the open door causing him to dissipate and then reform as he spoke again.

“I see,” he soothed, “why don’t you go lie down, I’ll prepare you some food.”

Tomura nodded, looking rather beaten. He began to shuffle off to his room, Spinner and Twice both averting their gaze out of respect to their boss. Dabi sat thoughtfully on the couch, sweeping a hand through his hair as he rendered Compress checkmate.

A few hours later, Dabi was sauntering to his room in the evening, but as he passed Tomura’s room he heard muffled cursing. He turned around and rapped the door. The sounds quieted, and Tomura muttered gruffly for him to enter. Dabi obeyed, leaning against the doorframe.

“You okay in here?” he interrogated, already knowing the answer. Tomura was in bad shape. His food sat untouched, his laptop shut on the desk, no online gaming visible. He was sprawled on his bed, sweatshirt hood up, panting slightly.

“I’m fine,” he snapped, his face obscured by his hair in the dark of the room.

“Cut the bullshit handyman, what’s got you sitting on tacks?” Dabi shot back. Tomura huffed.

“Why the fuck would you care? Get out,” he barked. Dabi scoffed.

“No wonder no one wants to be around you. You’re so kind,” he murmured sarcastically, turning to leave. He was halfway to the door when Tomura spoke again.

“The attack….there were three people. One paralyzed me, another rendering me mute, I’m assuming those were their quirks…”

Dabi raised an eyebrow. “The third?” he questioned.

“The third…didn’t move until the other two started leaving…as they walked away, he threw something at me….I flinched, so I didn’t see what it was but I felt it hit me…like…worms eating into my brain. I didn’t think anything of it, because there were no unusual effects but now I…”

He trailed off, glancing at his food before quickly turning his gaze elsewhere once more. “When I try to eat the food is all…full of maggots, and mold. When I try to patch up my injuries from the encounter, all I see is…blood. So much blood…gushing, squirting, blood. Bugs. Lots of…”

He shuddered. “In the mirror…my nails turn to beetles and crawl away…my eyebrows, spiders…worms for-for lips. My gloves…they’re rats…”

His voice broke slightly, and he stopped speaking. Dabi sighed, observing him quietly. Upon closer inspection, he noticed that Shigaraki was trembling, his knees pulled up to his chest. He was scared. The kind of fear that you know is irrational, but it’s bone-chilling anyway. He knew that fear, he felt it roll through his body, consuming his thoughts every time he heard his father’s footsteps near his bedroom door when he was a small child. Something inside him tugged at his consciousness, telling him to comfort the man in front of him. He gave into it, strolling over to Shigaraki and perching hesitantly next to him on the corner of the bed. He clenched his fist, opening it to reveal a small, flickering blue flame.

“Focus on it,” he suggested quietly, softly nudging Shigaraki with his shoulder. Shigaraki turned his head, hyper fixating on the fire, anxious for his mind to be anywhere but on the events of the day and their effects. After a while, he sighed softly.

“Thank you, Dabi,” he murmured, looking up at the raven-haired male. His shivering had eased, and he felt slightly calmer. Dabi noticed the hand wasn’t on his face, as usual, and was surprised by how red Shigaraki’s eyes were. He’d been crying, for a long while. Dabi nodded.

“Anything for you, boss man,” he replied truthfully. He may act abrasive towards Shigaraki, but there was a fondness for him, somewhere deep inside. Shigaraki had accepted him, however slowly, and had given him a place to stay, a family, somewhere he belonged. Maybe that platonic feeling of respect and devotion had turned into something else…something more serious. Seized by a sudden inexplicable urge, he tucked a small portion of Shigaraki’s hair behind his ear. The smaller male turned to him, a soft vulnerable in his eyes that Dabi had never seen before. It made Shigaraki seem…almost fragile. Dabi slid his thumb over a scar on the man’s cheek, frowning slightly. Two imperfect beings, two scarred, broken creatures, adapted to the circumstances of the cruelty they were subject to…so perfect. Almost poetic, how they were frozen together in anarchy, yet the world kept spinning on its axis around them. And they were safe. Safe from it all, because, all though unspoken, now, they had each other.

He never thought Shigaraki would be so soft, so fragile, so carefully built. He wanted to accept Shigaraki as a part of him, to take him in, take his bones, his flesh, his mind and make the two of them one. To protect him through anything and everything, always. He’d break himself to keep Shigaraki intact, he’d never let the world touch him again. When his thought process broke, he looked up, only to find Shigaraki’s face mere inches from his own. The blue haired male exhaled slightly through his lips and Dabi could feel it on his own. Unconsciously, his tongue darted out to wet them.

“Why are you such an ass to me?” Shigaraki questioned bluntly. The flame in Dabi’s palm flickered once, twice, and blew itself out.

“I’m…afraid of what I feel.” The hand that had been holding the flame came to rest on his upper thigh.

“What do you feel?” Shigaraki asked, a note of gentle yet earnest curiosity in his voice. Dabi licked his lips once more, swallowing heavily. Shigaraki seemed much too close…

“Tell me,” he whispered when Dabi failed to answer. Dabi hesitated, visibly struggling before leaning in to capture Tomura’s lips in a gentle, tender kiss. Shigaraki gasped softly, but didn’t pull away, instead lifting his hand to hold the back of Dabi’s neck, pulling him closer. Finally. Finally, they both thought. Shigaraki’s hand came up to brush the stubble on Dabi’s jaw gently, and they were no longer aware of the passage of time. The stars whirled, the sun rose and set, a million years passed, and it made no difference. Their souls merged, never to be torn apart. They pulled away as one, exhaled as one. Their gazes caught each other, holding each other in a silent embrace, one that said everything…and nothing. They never left that place, that space of eternal bliss, where for once, everything was right.

THIS TOOK SO LONG TO WRITE I’M SO SORRY- If you like this story, drop a request for part two, and if you like my work so far, send a request in for another story!! Remember to name the characters (or if an x reader story, who you wish to be paired with) and a situation I can build on; i.e hanging out at the mall. I love all of you, regardless of whom you are and I hope you all have a wonderful October!!

#shigaraki x dabi #shigaraki tomura #dabi #touya todoroki #shigadabi #oneshot #fluff fic #I'm so proud-

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noirineverysense · 3 years ago

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Claw's detective agency - part five

Part four//Masterlist

The car rolls through large gates that open for them. It parks near the entrance and Talon takes in the sight of the large manor.

“Alright for some.” She murmurs. Claw begins to walk in and she follows after him.

They find Garrison at the door with other enforcers wearing white gloves and putting evidence into bags. He nods at the two of them.

“You know, there’s something to be said of the old methods of investigation work. Everything’s all computerised nowadays, but nothing like some sweat and grit to get the job done.”

“Couldn’t agree more.” Claw says with a smile. Talon turns from the two to spot a woman with blond hair sat at a chair in the corner solemnly.

“Is that his wife?” She jerks her chin towards the woman. Garrison looks over.

“Yeah, we’ve already interviewed her but she doesn’t seem to have much of an idea except that he hasn’t come home since he left for work the day when he was taken. But feel free to talk to her regardless.”

“Has she seen the video?’ Claw asks quietly.

“We decided that its best for her not to know.”

“Wow,” Talon mutters, “You two have a lot in common.”

Claw flinches and Talon’s brows furrow. He doesn’t normally react like that.

He clears his throat, “Let’s go, Talon.” He heads to the woman and she follows behind.

They try not to crowd her, keeping their distance.

“Hello, my name is Claw, I’m a detective and this is my assistant, Talon. Can I ask your name?”.

She looks up at the two, eyes wide like she hadn’t realises they were there. She blinks back tears before she answers.

“It’s Melissa. Melissa Pewtree.”

“You took his name?” Claw asks surprised, Talon wrinkles her nose.

“Yes, he asked me too. It was our way of showing that we were a family.” Her voice is posh but it’s soft and almost sing-song. Talon liked it.

“That sounds nice,” she says, her voice wistful, “What made you marry him?”

“Well, he’s a nice man, despite his political persona. And I can’t say this beautiful house didn’t play into it.”

Talon nodded approvedly, Claw looks between the two with fond exasperation on his face.

“Back to the matter at hand, when was the last time you saw your husband.”

Her expression changes back into resigned sadness, “Before he left for work in the morning three days ago. He never came back home. I tried calling him but it goes straight to voicemail.”

“Did he act any differently in the past few days leading up to his disappearance?”

She shakes her head, “No. I don’t think so. But he was stressed after the burglary.”

The two freeze.

“Burglary?” Claw asks.

Melissa starts to explain but Talon’s mind focuses instead on chasing up the static of the radio that played in her ears.

“a string of robberies”

“a museum and two manors,”

“Melissa, do you have any security cameras?” she asks and the other woman nods.

“Yes, the enforcers are looking through it now.”

“We need to get that footage,” Claw murmurs to her. She nods and heads toward Garrison who is talking with other enforcers as the conversation between Melissa and Claw behind her continues.

“Garrison, do you have a moment?”

He turns to her, “Yes?”

“Why the fuck didn’t you tell us that Pewtree’s house was burgled just before he was kidnapped?”

He sighs, “We didn’t know.”

“You didn’t know? You’re the enforcement. You’re supposed to know when rich, parliament officials have been robbed.”

He puts his hands in his pockets, “Miscommunication between departments. It happens.”

She sighs, she supposed she should expect this level of incompetence from them.

“Can we have the camera footage?”

“Not until we’re done with it.”

Talon huffs, “We would do a better job.”

“That may be true, but regulations are regulations.”

She sighs, she turns the Claw who glances at her. She shakes her head and he nods. He turns back to the woman with a polite smile and finishes up the conversation before heading over to them.

“Garrison, can I have your assurance that we’ll get that camera footage by tomorrow morning?”

Garrison shrugs, “Sure, I’ll deliver it in the evening. Or earlier. What did you find out? Did you ask about the note?”

“What note?” Talon questions. Claw waves her off.

“I’ll get to that. First, she stated that the car was taken by men dressed in black as well as other valuables.”

Garrison frowns, “But Pewtree had his car keys in the office.”

“Yes, she seemed confused when I stated that. Then I asked about the picture and she said that he liked things from the late 20th century to early 21st, the TV is not connected to the internet, the decor is generally brighter.”

“More like eye-searing,” Garrison huffs.

“I wondered if that’s why he stayed in the old houses of Parliament. She said she thought the same.”

“What about the note?” Garrison asks, getting impatient at the seemingly useless information.

Claw looks up at him. “I didn’t ask.”

Garrison frowns and he crosses his arms, “Why not? I didn’t ask her so that you could!”

“Garrison, you picked up the note, correct?”

He sighs, “Yes I did.”

“And did you unfold the piece of paper.”

“You know Claw, not everyone other than you is a complete idiot.” He growls.

“I’m just ascertaining the facts here.”

Garrison sighs, “Yes I did.”

“And what did it say?”

He growls again and Talon puts a hand to his chest.

“Just play along, its easier that way.”

He exhales, “Fine it said: ‘Come home soon, sweetheart.’ It was apparently passed onto Pewtree while at work, obviously by his wife.”

Claw smiled, “Obviously, right?”

“Talon, I’m going to do something I’ll regret if you don’t step in here-”

“I got you.” she steps forward, with a smile pulling her lips.

“Why, oh great detective, would you think it’s not from his wife?”

“Well, my dear assistant, if you were planning to kidnap someone, you would want them to leave their well-guarded workplace soon, wouldn’t you?”

She turns to Garrison with a smirk, “See, the trick is to act really dumb and he gets to the point faster.”

He closes his eyes, “Right. Claw, why would a kidnapper want to make Pewtree leave their workplace?”

“Melissa said Pewtree often pulled all-nighters, he would take a sleeping bag with him even. Not ideal for a kidnapping.”

Talon hummed, “So if we go with the idea that someone pretended to be Melissa, then why wouldn’t Pewtree know it wasn’t his wife’s handwriting?”

“I think working with me has coloured your perception, Talon. While I prefer the more analogue ways of working, lots of people can’t remember the last time they’ve picked up an ink pen. He might just not have seen her handwriting enough.”

Garrison frowns, “But he has a paper frame of her in his office, his house has old TVs and couches that look like they’re from the 20th century. Wouldn’t he and his wife exchange paper notes often? Wouldn’t it have surprised him to see a paper note from his wife if not?”

“All good questions, Garrison. Ones I don’t yet have the answer to. My working theory is that Melissa doesn’t often send notes, which made it feel special to Pewtree. Our perpetrator may just have similar enough handwriting for Pewtree to mistake. Other conclusions are that they may know Melissa enough to copy her handwriting, or Melissa may have just written it herself.”

“Can’t we just ask her?” her tone indicating that this is what she wants to happen.

“I’d rather keep the note a secret from her for now.”

Garrison put his hands on his hips, adjusting his stance. “You think she’s a suspect?”

“I treat everyone as a suspect.” Claw answers simply.

“Would you like some tea?”

The three turn to find Melissa holding a tray with a china tea set with a teapot that had smoke coming out of it’s spout. There were some biscuits on the tray too. They give out varyingly polite refusals.

“I’m sorry, I’m not being a very good host. I’m known around Westminster for it. But I’m just so worried about my husband.”

“We understand,” Garrison’s gruff voice attempted a soft tone, “We will do our best to ensure your husband’s safe return.”

She nods appreciatively then turns to the other two, “Feel free to look around. And if you need to ask more questions, I’m more than willing to help.”

Claw smiles, “Thank you. We’ll be sure to let you know if we need anything.”

She curtsies and Talon lets out a hum that Claw raises a brow at. She turns and gracefully walks away.

“Talon. Her husband is missing.”

“What? She’s cute. And besides, I’d be willing to step in.”

“No flirting with witnesses,” Garrison sighs, “Or potential suspects.”

“Oh, come off it Garrison. She’s too pretty to be a kidnapper. And we’ve got nothing on her.”

“Yeah, what’s that then?” Claw and Talon follow the finger he points toward the chair Melissa was sat on in the corner of the living room, there sat a plushie that was likely hidden by Melissa herself as she sat in front of it. It had an unmistakable pointed hat and a sparkly fuchsia dress, it’s face a blush pink with golden flower eyes. It’s smile cheered girls around the world, but here it just seemed eerie.

“Princess Poncy.” Talon breathes.

---

Taglist: @winedark-whump @whumpworld @painful-pooch

#idk what to tag lol #claws detective agency

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writesowhatnext · 4 years ago

Text

elementary, my dear weasley // fred weasley

Summary: Fred receives an anonymous love letter so he enlists his best friend to help him figure it out

Request: Could you write some fluffy Fred W x Reader? The reader gives Fred an anonymous love letter but since they’re friends, he asks her to help him figure out who it is? You can go anywhere from there! Thank you x

A/N: this is such a super cute prompt so I really hope I can do it justice

Reader: unspecified

Warnings: none actually, I think

As Fred walked towards you with a very serious look on his face, you regretted every decision you’d ever made, simultaneously. Why did you tell your mum that your cat had broken the vase? Why did you snog that boy in first year? Why did you dye Ron’s hair pink and let the twins take the fall? Why did you start your last Charms essay the day it was due? Why did you write Fred that stupid letter? Your mind was in overdrive trying to devise a getaway plan, if you avoided Fred now then he’d definitely come and find you at some point but then, at least you could be more emotionally prepared for rejection. How had he even found out it was you? You’d gone to extreme lengths to throw him off the scent.

In your panic, you’d forgotten to actually try to execute any form of escape plan and so there you sat, a sitting duck, with Fred Weasley charging towards you. You winced as he slammed the familiar paper down in front of you, familiar handwritten peeking out from between his spread fingers. You looked up from his hand to his face very, very reluctantly. And for some reason, he was smiling.

“You will never guess what I’ve just found.”

You frowned, watching him with a fairly healthy level of confusion as he dragged a chair to sit at your table. He ignored the annoyed looks from the Gryffindors at the table he’d stolen from and sat down, pushing your letter towards you.

“Read that.”

Your frown deepened as you slowly pulled the letter toward you. What sort of mind game was he playing?

Your heart beat loudly in your ears with every word you read: from the ‘Dear Fred,’ to the ‘With love.’, you’d reread and checked the letter more times then you could count and you could practically recite it by heart at this point. When you left it for him, it had been a good idea, now it just filled you with regret and a horrible sick feeling in your stomach. You raised your head to look at him and hummed, carefully watching his reaction.

“Hmmm?” he asked incredulously, snatching the letter back and staring at it. “I know it’s not surprising because I mean, come on, but surely someone confessing their love to me via the timeless art of letter-writing deserves more than a ‘hmmm’, don’t you think?”

You stared at him for a moment. All the while, he just looked at you expectantly. And then it clicked; Fred had no idea you sent that letter. Your mouth fell open slightly as you tried to figure out how you would behave in this situation – if it was someone else that’d been hopelessly in love with Fred.

“Let me read it again.” You insisted, pulling it from his hands. You didn’t read it; you just stared down at parchment, trying to figure out what you were going to do about it. He didn’t know it was you; that was perfectly clear. It would be fine. He never needed to know it was you, not really.

“Who do you think wrote it?”

Happy that you were finally asking the right questions, Fred smiled and rested his elbows on the table.

“That’s what I need your help to find out.”

“You want to find out who sent it?” you asked loudly. Perhaps a little too loudly, you discovered; a couple of people in the common room looked up at you.

“Do I-“ Fred shook his head. “Blimey, Y/N, what has got into you today? Of course, I want to find out who sent it.”

“Why?”

Fred could not fathom your behaviour right now – his fish impression proved that. Once he’d stopped opening and closing his mouth, he placed a hand on the paper, pointing at it with his finger.

“Whoever wrote this says that I am the sunshine of their world, Y/N.” he shot you a deadpan look. “The sunshine of their world.”

You made a face, your composure slipping, a horrible cringing sensation coming over you. “And?”

“And…” he stressed, rolling his eyes. “I want to find out who thinks so highly of yours truly.”

“To do what?”

“Bloody hell, Y/N, what’s with all the questions?” Fred huffed, making a face. “I just want to figure out who sent it – I have to talk to them.”

You wanted to know what he meant by that but you couldn’t afford to keep asking questions without raising some sort of suspicion.

“So how are you going to figure out who?”

“Well,” he said, frowning. “That’s why I’m here. George took a look and said that if anyone could help me, it was you. So, dear, dear Y/N, any ideas?”

You paused for a moment, confused. Why would George think you knew who wrote it? Sure, you knew a fair few people but you were hardly Sherlock sodding Holmes. It was probably a coincidence, you thought. Though, the strange nervous feeling in your stomach lingered.

“Well,” you leant your chin on your elbow. “Tell me how you found it.”

The smile that lit up his face at the promise of your help was almost enough to quash your guilt at the fact that this definitely, probably, certainly qualified as lying to him.

You barely listened as he talked you through his morning routine. He’d woken up, late as usual, and thrown on his robes because he thought it was Monday – it was not. When he was rifling through them to find some Helium Toffees that he swore – though you were thoroughly unconvinced - he didn’t plan to use on you, he found a folded-up section of parchment. And, the first thing he did was smell it.

“You what?” you asked, definitely now listening. “What did you do that for?”

“To see where it came from.” He replied as if it were obvious.

You frowned at him, lost for words. Not only had you not disguised any sort of smell when you’d written it, you were also kind of worried about Fred’s mental state that that was his first thought.

“So, what did it smell like then?”

“Nothing, really.”

You stared at him for a moment. You were exasperated, for sure, but you couldn’t help the way your stomach flopped, replacing it with fondness.

“Well given that very promising lead didn’t pan out-“

“Oi!” Fred poked you in this side, earning a hideously loud spout of laughter from you. You grumbled as he smiled proudly.

“What’s next?”

“Well,” he began, leaning forward as if revealing the biggest conspiracy to sweep the wizarding world since, well, Harry Potter. “I figure whoever it is has to be close to me, right? To get it in my robes and all.”

You tried to fault his logic, but you’d forgotten, with how horrible of a student he could be, that Fred was actually a genius when he wanted to be. You just nodded.

“I don’t know where to go from there though: I don’t recognise the handwriting; I don’t know when they put it in there; I can’t write one back-“

“You’d write back?” You tried to hide how breathless the thought made you.

“It’s like you know nothing about letter-writing etiquette.”

If only he knew.

Forgetting that you were trying not to be helpful, lest he discovered that you were his secret admirer, you were accidentally helpful.

“Didn’t you go through your pockets before you changed last night to find that chocolate frog Ron stole?”

“So, Ron stole that frog.” he turned to you, smirking. You remembered in that second that you’d promised Ron that you’d keep that information to yourself.

“What? Who told you that?”

He narrowed his eyes as you painted the most innocent expression you could on your face.

“But yeah, you’re right. So what?”

“So what?” This boy. “So, they must’ve put it in your robes after that.”

His face lit up.

“Okay so, who did you see after that?”

Finding his concentrated frown much cuter than you should’ve, you were almost disappointed when he started talking.

“George, Ron, You-“ you were both sad and happy that he didn’t pause. “Hermione?”

You shook your head, making a face. He nodded in agreement.

“Harry, Lee, Angelina. Do you think it was Angelina?”

You stomach sank at his excitement. “Could be.”

He smiled, leaning back on his chair, pleased with himself.

“So, what are you gonna do?”

He seemed surprised at your question as if he’d forgotten what the point of your detective work was.

“It’s still lunchtime, right?”

You looked at the clock on the wall. “Just about.”

“Come on then, my little detective.”

As you followed him to the Great Hall, you tried to ignore the way your heart jumped at the nickname.

When you reached the Hall, Angelina was sat down, surrounded by her friends. George was also there, probably late from his detention with Snape.

“Alright, George?” Fred said, nudging his shoulder against his brother’s. George looked at you, and then at Fred. Something was strange about his stare.

“Why do you look so happy?” George asked, crossing his arms.

“Y/N and I have cracked the case!”

“Oh, really?” When George looked at you almost pointedly, a lump formed in your throat. He knew.

“And I’m going to go seal the deal – wish me luck, Georgie.”

As Fred walked rather confidently over to Angelina, you and George stood shoulder to shoulder. In silence. It was eating you alive. Your mind swam with things to say: explanations, excuses, ways to make a clean exit.

“I didn’t think you had it in you.” He said, his tone light and a smile on his lips as he watched his brother strike up a conversation. Out of all the things he could’ve said, you hadn’t expected that. You looked up at him and he nodded over to Angelina’s confused face. “Letting him trot over there thinking Angelina wrote that letter? Very wicked.”

You paused before deciding you had nothing left to lose.

“What was I supposed to do? Tell him?”

“Yes.” George said as if it was obvious – his expression a carbon copy of Fred’s.

“He would hate me, George.”

He laughed, throwing his arm around your shoulder, pulling you into him. You wondered what about your misfortune he found so funny. “My sweet, sweet Y/N,” you both watched as Angelina’s friends burst into laughter. You felt even more guilty at Fred’s discouraged expression. “Fred could never hate you.”

As Fred returned to you, tail between his legs and ego wounded slightly, he didn’t even notice George’s arm around you. He just frowned, nodding.

“At least that narrows down our suspect pool.” Then he turned to George. “Up for helping us figure out the mystery?”

George let go of your shoulder, making apologetic gestures as he backed away.

“Sorry mate, still got detention.”

Fred made a face before turning to you. George winked as he left the Hall in the opposite direction of the dungeon.

“So, who’s left?”

You were worried about how short the list of possible authors was getting and George’s words were echoing in your head.

“Fred,” you started, tilting your head to the side. “I have to tell you something.”

“What?” he asked, frowning and crossing his arms.

“Well, I-“

You cursed yourself.

“So, I-“

“What I’m trying to say is that I…”

You closed your eyes and sighed.

“Basically this is really hard to say and I really don’t know what to do if you hate-”

“You wrote the letter?”

Your head shot up to see Fred, smirking with an eyebrow raised.

“I can’t believe you’d send me off to go ask Angelina whether she wrote it. Blimey, love, you’re more ruthless than I thought; should be a bloody Slytherin. It’s a good job I figured it out before I plundered over there like a right git.”

You blinked. What was happening? Why was Fred smiling? How did he know?

“You knew all along?”

He just smiled.

“Why- Why did-“ you stopped, mouth open. “Why did you make me help you?”

“Bit of fun,” he shrugged, pressing his lips together. “Wanted you to tell me.”

You placed your hand to your forehead, groaning. You must look like a right idiot.

“How did you know?”

“Smelt like you, didn’t it.”

You frowned, moving your head.

“You pay attention to what I smell like?”

“I pay attention to everything about you.”

He placed his hands on your hips. You were sure you’d short-circuited.

“The way you smell… the face you make when you lie… how suspicious you look when you’re messing with my robes.”

It was impossible, you thought, to be more embarrassed than you were in that exact moment.

“You saw me put it in there.”

“I saw you put it in there.” He said, pulling you into him. “Was quite pleased when I read it, actually, I’ve fancied you for years.”

“You’re lying.”

You placed your hands very tentatively on his chest, his soft jumper underneath your palms.

“There’s only one liar here.”

You made a face. He looked over your head, pursing his lips before looking down again.

“The sunshine of your world, ay?”

“Shut up.” You groaned, cringing again. He laughed, his whole body shaking. “What does this mean?”

“Well,” he moved his hand to the small of your back. “I was hoping it meant I could kiss you.”

You nodded, again at a loss for words.

“That alright with you?”

You just nodded.

#writing #imagine #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley #fred weasley imagine #Harry Potter imagine #harry potter

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inevitably-johnlocked · 4 years ago

Note

STEPH I ACCIDENTLY REWATCHED TSOT AND NOW I'M FUCKING SOBBING. I JUST HAVEN'T WATCHED THE ACTUAL SHOW IN FOREVER AND FORGOT HOW SAD SHERLOCK LOOKS IN THIS EPISODE. GOD. so yeah i just wanted some fics where john & sherlock dance together, whether it be at a/their wedding, "for a case", some kind of ball, or my favorite- sherlock teaching john to dance. it's maybe one of my favorite situations/tropes in media. (also welcome back!! and i love you <3)

Hi Lovely!!!

AHHHH I’ve been putting a “dancing” list together before I even had a system in place to do my lists, so I’m going to use your ask as an excuse to finally post it because I can’t find the original ask, LOL LOL!!!

And to pad out the list, I’m adding any that I’ve tagged from my MFL List, so I hope you enjoy that, LOL.

As usual, add your own, friends!! Hope you enjoy!!!

DANCING

You Lead, I Lead, You Follow, I Follow by BrighteyedJill (M, 862 w., 1 Ch. || Fever, H/C, John Whump) – John wakes up after a chase gone wrong to find Sherlock watching over him, but he’s a little hazy on the details.

Velvet by headlessjess (G, 1,155 w., 1 Ch. || Pining, Angst, Jealous Sherlock, Loneliness, Sad Fic) – It's the day, the wedding day - John and Mary, getting married. And then there's Sherlock, in pain and in love, without knowing how to deal with it.

Your love it feels so good by Hotaru_Tomoe (E, 2,843 w., 1 Ch. || Gay Club / Gay Bar, Lingerie, Stripping, Anal) – Sherlock is last at a quiz night and is forced by Anderson to perform in a gay stripclub. John must be with him, because he will have to record the performance. Sherlock takes the task very seriously. Part 20 of The English job

Behind Closed Curtains by twisting_vine_x (G, 2,939 w., 1 Ch. || Dancing, Angst, Pre-Slash) – Set loosely during season two, when Sherlock and John are still, ahem, dancing around each other. Sherlock teaches John how to dance.

Unimpressed by 221b_hound (M, 3,106 w., 1 Ch. || New Year’s Eve, Dancing, Jealousy) – Sherlock has no intention of attending the Met's New Year's Eve party. The start of a new year is all but meaningless to him. But he ends up there anyway, having odd conversations, and John does not find Sherlock's jealousy the slightest bit cute. And then there is dancing. Part 10 of Unkissed

Every Step of the Way by Shi_Toyu (G, 3,795 w., 1 Ch. || Car Accident, John Whump, Hurt/Comfort, Caretaking, Pre-Slash) – When John is injured on a case, Sherlock can't forgive himself. Everyone expects him to give up on his flatmate and get bored, but he'll prove them all wrong by sticking with him...every step of the way.

No Good Without You by textsandscones (T, 4,021 w., 1 Ch. || Case Fic, Sherlock’s Violin, Dancing, Soppy Fluff) – A diverting new case surrounding musicians and stolen instruments captures Sherlock's attention, the consequences of which lead both detective and doctor to see one another in a different light. Part 1 of Prompt Fills

Living Musical by VeeTheRee (G, 4,149 w. 1 Ch. || Est. Rel., Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Hobbies, Summer, Song Fic, POV Sherlock, Painting, Play Fighting, Soft Sherlock, Dancing, Love Declarations, Hair Petting, Promise of Forever) – A one-shot of John and Sherlock being domestic during summer. There is paint, fluff, and music from Imagine Dragons, namely from the album 'Speak To Me', specific song in this one-shot is 'Living Musical'. Part 1 of the Happy Fluffy Johnlock Time series

But Tonight You Belong to Me by esplanade (T, 4,296 w., 1 Ch. || Fluff & Angst, Pining, Stag Night, Sad Ending) – “You. It's always you. John Watson, you keep me right.”

The Dance Lesson by bittergreens (G, 4,596 w., 1 Ch. || TSo3 Missing Scene, Dancing, Pining Sherlock, URT/UST, Romance, Angst, POV John) – Sherlock teaches John to dip. Part 1 of Goodnight, Vienna

Sway by CrackedMetal (K+, 4,602 w., 1 Ch. || Romance, Drama, Dancing, Mary is Nice, Canon Divergence, Song Fic) – Sherlock doesn't leave the reception and Mary wants the best friends to have a moment to talk… So she suggests a dance. Johnlock with a side of John/Mary.

Sherlock and John Go Clubbing by wendymarlowe (E, 4,716 w., 3 Ch. || Clubbing, Dirty Talk, Dancing, Coming Untouched, Coming in Pants, Bi John, For a Case, Friends to Lovers, Flirting, Sherlock is Lost for Words, Sexy John, Mutual Pining, Possessive John, Floor Sex) – John pinched the bridge of his nose - even for Sherlock, this was a new level of no bloody boundaries. “You want me to go with you to a gay club, wait around twiddling my thumbs while I let you get pawed by a criminal, then out-flirt him and talk you into coming home with me instead?” Part 32 of John and Sherlock's Kinky First Times

a very soft epilogue (my love) by darcylindbergh (E, 5,395 w., 3 Ch. || Retirement, Domestic Fluff, Dancing, Dogs, Grumpy Old Men) – Across the pillows, Sherlock shifts and hums, the creases of his face deepening and then smoothing before settling. John watches him wake up, his chest swelling with affection and fondness, and thinks he’ll never get tired of Sherlock in the mornings, sleepy and soft. It’s been some forty-odd years, and John hasn’t gotten tired of it yet. Part 5 of things fairy tales are made of

Second Waltz by Atiki (T, 6,685 w., 1 Ch. || MCD, Angst, Fluff, Cancer) – "The night I died, you wished I could wait for you."

What I Hide By My Language, My Body Utters by PixChuu22 (M, 9,047 w., 1 Ch. || Fake Relationship, For a Case, Friends to Lovers) - Based on a prompt from Tumblr user thetwogaydetectives - “fake relationship that ends up being so real, they finally realize they are in love.”

Down with this Ship by FrostedFlame (PinkOrchid) (M, 10,862 w., 10 Ch. || For a Case, Gay Bar, Pining Sherlock, Coming Out, Slow Burn) – Sherlock drags John undercover to a gay bar - for a case, of course - looking forward to seeing John flustered by their surroundings (since you know, he's NOT GAY). John decides that he has hidden both his orientation and his feelings for his daft flatmate for far too long. He is done hiding, time to be honest with his bloody best friend in the world. He just hopes it won't change anything between them. And then it does.

the first day of forever by darcylindbergh (E, 11,850 w., 8 Ch. || Est. Relationship, Domestics, Light Angst, Insecurity, Emotional H/C) – “I’m going to marry you,” John murmurs with against Sherlock’s smile, and they both giggle in the joy of it. “We’re getting married.” “Yes,” Sherlock says, just to hear himself say it out loud. “We are.” A June wedding. Part 4 of things fairy tales are made of

All the Girls Love a Soldier by Book7BrokeMyBrain (E, 12,951 w., 1 Ch. || Military Kink, Frottage, Domesticity, Post S3, Pining Sherlock, Kilt John, Wedding, Dancing) – John is invited to a stag party and a wedding. The related accoutrement suit Sherlock to a T.

Twelfth Night by yourdykeinshiningarmor (E, 15,139 w., 5 Ch. || Fake Relationship, Christmas, Mutual Pining, Friends to Lovers, Angst & Fluff, BJ’s, Anal) – John is invited to his aunt's Twelfth Night ball. Sherlock offers to attend with him as a friendly face among strangers, but John's family force him to address his true feelings for Sherlock.

I Think I've Come A Long Long Way To Sit Before You Here Today by ArwenKenobi (T, 18,251 w., 3 Ch. || Grief/Mourning, Passage of Time, Major Character Death, Alternating POV, Sherlock Whump, Pining Sherlock, Hospitalization, Coma, Revenge Murders, Hallucinations, Love Confessions, Brutal Accident, Mystrade, Ghost John) – One year after John is killed Sherlock starts to wonder whether John has actually gone anywhere.

Out of the Woods by SilentAuror (E, 20,471 w., 1 Ch. || Post S4, Romance, Slow Burn, Flirting, Drunk Sex, Practical Jokes, POV Sherlock, Bottomlock, Possessive John, Pining Sherlock, Frustrated Wanking, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, First Kiss/Time, Virgin Sherlock, Love Confessions, Soft Sherlock, Dancing, Bum Appreciation, Hanging out with the Yard) – Sherlock is fairly certain that John has taken to flirting with him of late, but can't be entirely certain of it. At least, not until a case takes them into a forest, along with Lestrade's team and something happens that will change everything about their lives...

Sonatina in G Minor by SilentAuror (E, 22,574 w., 1 Ch. || Case Fic, POV Sherlock, Angst, UST, Sherlock’s Violin, Post-S3, Romance) – John has come back to Baker Street, but Sherlock doesn't understand the strange tension between them, even after he begins teaching John to play the violin at John's request.

a good old-fashioned happy ending by darcylindbergh (E, 32,731 w., 26 Ch. || Christmas, Frottage, Comfort, Est. Rel., Fluff, Insecure Sherlock, Frottage, Nightmares, Sleepy Sherlock, Marriage Proposal, Humour, Fluff, Dancing, Cooking, Happy Ending) – For Christmas this year, Sherlock wants to get John something special: something every fairytale deserves. Part 2 of things fairy tales are made of

we have never seen a greater day than this by Lediona (T, 36,420 w., 7 Ch. || A Royal Night Out AU || WWII / VE Day, Prince Sherlock, Soldier John, Alternating POV, First Kiss, Bittersweet Ending, Homophobia, Dancing) – Peace. At long last. It’s VE Day and Prince William desires to join the celebrations. It is a night of excitement, danger and the first flutters of romance.

Guilty Secrets by Ellipsical (E, 55,086 w., 16 Ch. || Drumsticks, First Kiss/Time, Love Confession, Self-Sexual-Discovery, Anal, Rimming, Orgasim Denial, Butt Plugs, Cooking, Furniture Sex, Bath Sex, Rimming, Double Penetration, Anal Beads, Dancing, Romance, Tantric Edging) – John has a prostate exam and discovers something surprising about himself. Experimentation follows. Sherlock wants to help. They're in love. You know the drill.

The Bells of King's College by SilentAuror (E, 64,019 w., 5 Ch. || Post-S4, Missed Opportunities, Angst with Happy Ending, Fake Relationship, Case Fic, John POV, Jealous John, John in Denial, Travelling / Holidays, Virgin Sherlock, Wedding Proposals) – It's only been two weeks since Eurus Holmes disrupted their lives when Mycroft sends John and Sherlock to Cambridge to pose as an engaged couple at a wedding show in the hopes of solving six unsolved deaths...

Hell Sent, Heaven Bound by ConsultingHound (M, 64,381 w, 16 Ch. || Angels / Demons AU || Fallen Angel Sherlock / Angel Cop John, Alternate First Meeting, Slow Burn, Case Fic, John & Lestrade are Friends Before Sherlock, BAMF John, Mind Palace John, Friends to Lovers, John in Denial, Sherlock Picks Out John’s Clothing, Clubbing / Dancing, Mildly Jealous John, Awkwardness, Kidnapping, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Sacrifice, Worried / Anxious Sherlock, Angst with Happy Ending, Immortal to Mortal) – Ex-War healer and current angelic guard John Watson is not having the best day. He overslept, he’s underpaid, and now there’s someone tagging the Council’s building walls. However things may be about to get interesting: there’s an unusual stranger hanging around (the definition of tall, dark, and handsome), a literal underground cult is brewing, and rumblings are coming from hell. Can he keep his neighbourhood safe, how and why is he being connected to all this, and who the hell is Sherlock Holmes?

White Knight by DiscordantWords (M, 69,840 w., 13 Ch. || S4 Compliant/Post S4, Marriage For a Case, Jealous John, Pining John, Janine / Sherlock Fake Relationship, Serial Killers, Case Fic, Undercover as a Couple, Weddings, John is a Mess, Misunderstandings, Wedding Planning, Jealousy, Drunkenness, Love Confessions, Angst with Happy Ending) – Green. The word green was used to convey a great many things. Illness. Envy. Inexperience. Standing there amidst Janine's chattering bridesmaids, watching Sherlock furrow his brow and study fabric swatches, watching him smile and simper and flirt, John thought it a remarkably apt colour choice. Because he felt quite sick to his stomach, he feared the source of said sickness might very well be jealousy, and he had absolutely no idea at all what to do about it. Or: Sherlock needs to fake a relationship for a case. He doesn't ask John.

Not Broken, Just Bent by Schmiezi (E, 87,585 w., 43 Ch. || Pining, Love Confessions, Torture, Hurt/Comfort, Heavy Angst, Villain!Mary, Suicidal Ideations, Main Character Death, Sherlock POV, Eventual Happy Ending) – "For a second, I allow myself to remember teaching John how to waltz. There is a special room in my mind palace for it. A big one, with a proper parquet dance floor. For a second, I go there. I remember holding him, closer than the World Dance Council asks for, excusing it with the fact that we are training for a wedding, not for a competition. For a second, I feel his hand on mine again, smell his sweat, hear the song we used. For a second, I allow myself to love him deeply. For a second, only a second, that love reflects on my face." Fix-it for S3, starting at the end of TSoT. Evil Mary.

Shatter the Darkness (Let the Light In) by MojoFlower (E, 109,683 w., 23 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Genie/Djinn AU || Magical Realism, Kidnapping, Genie Sherlock, First Kiss / Time, Case Fic, H/C, Angst, Clubs, John Whump, Mild DubCon, Hand / Blow Jobs, Torture) – Fairy tales are for those who remember how to dream; not John Watson, broken and hiding from his bleak future in a beige bedsit. But then he discovers a lamp and finds himself in the dangerous riptide of an enigmatic man whose very existence is unbelievable, murder charges against his sister, and the growing pains of feeling alive once more.

Proving A Point by elldotsee & J_Baillier (E, 186,270 w., 28 Ch. || Me Before You Fusion || Medical Realism, Insecure John, Depression, Romance, Angst, POV John, Sherlock Whump, Serious Illness, Doctor John, Injury Recovery, Assisted Suicide, Sherlock’s Violin, Awkward Sexual Situations, Alcoholism, Drugs, Idiots in Love, Slow Burn, Body Image, Friends to Lovers, Hurt / Comfort, Pain, Big Brother Mycroft, Intimacy, Anxiety, PTSD, Family Issues, Psychological Trauma, John Whump, Case Fics, Loneliness, Pain) – Invalided home from Afghanistan, running out of funds and convinced that his surgical career is over, John Watson accepts a mysterious job offer to provide care and companionship for a disabled person. Little does he know how much hangs in the balance of his performance as he settles into his new life at Musgrave Court.

MARKED FOR LATER

He really can’t breathe. by Luna_sharp618 (NR, 696 w., 1 Ch. || Pining Sherlock, Dancing, Sherlock Teaching John to Dance, TSo3 Fic) – In which Sherlock teaches John how to dip his dance partner for the wedding and has some pining thoughts.

The Gay Bar Scene that never was by MadSophHatter (T, 1,372 w., 1 Ch. || TSo3, Gay Bar Scene, Confused Sherlock, Jealous John, Humour) – The gay bar scene from The Sign of Three as I envisioned it. Featuring a confused Sherlock, halfnaked men, sexy dancing and John who is absolutely not jealous.

Tango by standbygo (M, 1,424 w., 1 Ch. || Different First Meeting, Dancing) – “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” “Shut up and dance – a man’s alibi depends on it.”

Operation Synchronous by Daziechane (NR, 1,691 w., 1 Ch. || Dancer Sherlock, Lip Synch Battle, Abuse Of Umbrellas, Bets) – Sherlock never welches on a bet. That doesn't mean he'll give in easily, however.

on his mouth like liquor by chrysanthemumsies (T, 1,780 w., 1 Ch. || TSo3, Stag Night, Gay Bar, Romance, Dancing, First Kiss, Fluff) – The gay bar scene from Stag night that the creators didn't want to show! Pure crack with a bit of angst and a whole lotta fluff (if you squint). Sherlock and John on the dance floor - what's not to love?

Take me to Baker Street by MorganeUK (G, 2,087 w., 1 Ch. || Adult Ballet AU || Ballet Dancer Sherlock, Doctor John, Song Fic, Pre-Slash) – I always loved Sergei Polunin interpretation of Take me to the church so I decided to write a version where Sherlock is a ballet dancer in serious need of a doctor…

May I Have This Dance? by ScaryFairy13 (G, 2,297 w., 1 Ch. || Slow Dancing, Fluff, First Kiss, Wedding) – John drags Sherlock to Greg's and Molly's wedding. Dancing ensues as well as the discovery of certain sentimental feelings.

Under the Lights by CarmillaCarmine (E, 2,872 w., 1 Ch. || TSo3 Fix It, Stag Night, Gay Club, First Time, Dancing) – Following Sherlock’s map marked with all the streets where they had found a corpse, John and Sherlock stumbled into a gay club. Part 1 of TSoT Fix-It

Dirty by standbygo (E, 5,093 w., 1 Ch. || Established Relationship, PWP, Dirty Dancing, Romance, Smut and Fluff) – “Yeah, I actually learned how to dance like that, like in the film. I was quite the hit at parties while the craze lasted. Some of Harry’s friends called me Johnny Castle, after the character. Or Swayze.” “Swayze? What kind of word is that?” John did not reply, but gazed at Sherlock, his lips pressed together but still smiling. After a moment, he stood and held out his hand to Sherlock. “Dance with me,” John said.

The Posh Purple Pirate (Enter My Life and Make Me Drown) by ��Loveismyrevolution (E, 7,408 w., 1 Ch. || Exotic Dancer AU || Alternate First Meeting, Strangers to Lovers, For a Case, Lap Dancing, Hand Job, First Kiss, Pirate Sherlock, Drama Queen Sherlock, Dancer Sherlock) – When Mike Stamford invited him to a fun night out, John Watson never expected it would become such a wild ride - captivated by an enigmatic pirate his life suddenly gains speed in an unexpected direction. Part 1 of PirateDragQueenVerse

Life's Uneven Kilter by theslovenlyfool (T, 14,877 w., 4 Ch. || Canon Divergence S3, BAMF John, Secretly Married, Camp Gay Sherlock, Dancing, John is a Good Actor, Fake Relationship, Mycroft Plays a Role) – "According to Sherlock, the game began on September 21, 2005 at precisely 10:37:04 am. John complained that, with that logic, the game had actually begun on January 7, 2000, at around 1:30 am. But for Sherlock, games are only fun when others are willing to play. What is a game without an adversary, after all? And what is a proper dash across London without a partner? Now, Sherlock thought as he assessed the doctor with the unforgivable cane, the game is on."

Thirteen Dances (Or, The Doctor Dances) by Knackorcraft (E, 17,544 w., 13 Ch. || Dirty Dancing, Tango, Ballet, Frottage) – John is a great dancer: we're talking all types. Not only is he able to pop and lock it, he's got some great ballet technique. He was best at lifting / holding girls.

The One Where Sherlock Doesn’t Ruin John’s Holiday by nutmeag83 (T, 18,898 w., 11 Ch. || Pre-TRF / S2 Timeline, Friends to Lovers, Cruise Ships, Vacation / Holidays, Fake Relationship, For Science, Bed Sharing, Cuddling/Snuggling, Mutual Pining, John POV, Minor Case Fic, Cooking, Dancing, Drunk Shenanigans) – John wins a cruise vacation for two and brings Sherlock along. But when it turns out to be a couples cruise, they have to pretend to be a couple themselves (for science). How many pretend kisses will it take before they can’t deny their feelings any longer?

Lockdown by johnwatso and Salambo06 (E, 23,376 w., 20 Ch. || Quarantine, COVID-19, Lockdown, Fluff, Parentlock, Reunion, Dancing, Soft Idiots, Sex Toys) – The world is in lockdown due to Covid-19. This is how Sherlock and John spend their time.

Dance With Me by Silvergirl (E, 24,813 w., 12 Ch. || Post TEH, Dancing, Met Charity Gala, Sally/Sherlock Friendship, No Mary, Fluff) – Sherlock rescues Sally Donovan, and in turn she tries to help him get John to stop faffing about and get on with Johnlock.

Mountebank by Odamaki (M, 26,514 w., 2 Ch. || Fake Relationship/Dating/Marriage, For A Case, Jealous John, Suits, House Party, Crack, Trapped, UST, Dancing, Idiots in Love, Confessions, Friends to Lovers) – “I am calm,” John snaps, leaning on the door to glare out at the dark streets around them. Sherlock’s not said where they’re going; all he knows is they came off the ring road to the west of London and have vanished somewhere into the depths of Berkshire. All he knows is that he’s been trussed up in a suit that wasn’t hired from anywhere and if brought new would edge up into the triple figure margins. “Be calmer,” Sherlock advises, with a trace of irony. “We’re going to a party.” Part 29 of the The Sherlexicon

Time Of My Life by fiveainley_ohmy (E, 29,719 w., 8 Ch. || Dirty Dancing Fusion || Bisexual John, Dancing, Gay/Demi Sherlock) – John Watson takes his alcoholic sister to a summer camp in attempt to rehabilitate her. He didn't expect to fall in love with the dance instructor.

Brooklyn Heat, Summer Jazz by Zigster (E, 41,820 w., 10 Ch. || New York Ballet AU || Jazz Pianist John, Ballet Dancer Sherlock, Modern Setting, Brooding Sherlock , Confused John, Non-Linear Storytelling, Sexual Tension, Angst, Alcohol / Pot / Club Drug Use, First Time, Not-Good Mycroft, Happy Ending) – "There was, however, one thing that made it easier to stay on his piano bench every day. One thing that kept John Watson showing up to class on time, every morning at ten with a large thermos of honeyed tea and a conviction to see a job well done. His name was Sherlock Holmes and he was the most confounding and extraordinary thing John had ever come across - the most exotic of birds and the most unattainable of men."

Blond Barista Seeks Dashing Ballet Dancer: Inquire Within by prettysailorsoldier (E, 43,847 w., 1 Ch. || Unilock Coffee Shop AU || Rugby/Barista John, Ballet Dancer Sherlock, Fluff) – Between classes, his job at a local cafe, and being captain of the rugby team, John Watson's life is plenty stressful enough without the addition of a mysterious ballet dancer he can see through the windows of the dance studio across the street, but, somehow, he can't bring himself to mind.

My Pictures of You by 72reasons (E, 50,527 w., 19 Ch. || Fashion AU || Model Sherlock / Photographer John, Bisexual John, Gay Sherlock, Past Viclock, Past Warstan, Cocaine / Drug Use, Mary is Not Nice, Angst, Pining, Case Fic, Kidnapping, Human Trafficking, Past Jolto, Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, Frottage, Oral / Anal, Fingering, Dancing, Non-Con Drug Use, Rimming) – John Watson, a photographer, gets an assignment to shoot gorgeous, young fashion model, Sherlock Holmes. He feels an instant connection, but Sherlock uses drugs and has an old friend who's just landed himself in a lot of trouble. When Sherlock comes to John for help, he reluctantly agrees. Angst, past loves, and insecurities threaten to end their budding romance, but ultimately love and trust wins out.

Focal Point by PuffleLock (E, 60,913 w., 13 Ch. || Post-TRF Divergence / Different Reunion, POV John, Slow Burn, For a Case, Friends to Lovers, Suicidal Thoughts, Sad Wank, Sherlock in Makeup, Dancing, Mentions of Torture / Depression / PTSD, Love Confessions, Idiots in Love, Frottage, Blow Jobs, Scars, Rimming, Anal, Toplock, First Kiss / Time, Gay Sherlock / Bi John) – John comes home early from a medical conference to find that every once in awhile, Sherlock can surprise the hell out of him. Can John surprise him back?

A Moment's Surrender by anchors (M, 64,272 w., 10 Ch. || Dancer AU || Ballet Sherlock, Swing Dancer John, Angsty Fluff, Romance, Swing Dancing) – Sherlock tours worldwide with the English National Ballet. John dances the Lindy Hop competitively all across the globe. That they would meet, then, by the slimmest of chances in one lonely city, is pure coincidence. The whole 'dancing together' bit is a little more planned.

This Is Your Song by agirlsname (E, 79,990 w., 19 Ch. || Moulin Rouge Fusion || Prostitute Sherlock, Poet John, Acting, Singing, Dancing, Writing, Poetry, Musical, Song Fic, Heavy Angst, Unreliable Narrator, Sherlock is French, Love at First Sight, UST, First Kiss/Time, Frottage, Coming in Pants, Anal Sex, Switchlock, Clothed Sex, Crossdressing, Secret Relationship, Forbidden Love, Jealousy, Terminal Illnesses, Grief/Mourning, Breakup/Makeup Sex, Past Drug Use, Attempted Rape, Canon-Typical Violence)– When John Watson is invalided home from the army in 1895, he moves to Paris to rediscover his writing and find a new meaning in life. His old friend Stamford invites him into a group of artist friends, and suddenly John finds himself auditioning to write a show for the famous brothel across the street. There, he meets the most beautiful man he’s ever seen - Sherlock, the star of the Moulin Rouge. But Sherlock is already promised to the investor of the show, the rich Duke Moriarty.

A Case of Identity – The Musical by shamelessmash (E, 83,147 w., 15 Ch. || 1950′s Hollywood AU || Musical, Case Fic, Undercover as an Actor, Dancing, Happy Ending, Kidnapping, Drugs, Fluff and Angst, Humour, Writer/Director John, Slow Burn / Romance) – A mysterious death on set causes chaos in Stamford productions latest movie. With the premiere date left unchanged, they must find a new lead actor and reshoot an entire movie in two months. Sherlock Holmes goes undercover as a lead actor in a Musical: a juggling act to solve a murder while singing, dancing and charming his way through 1950s Hollywood. The last thing he expected was to fall in love with the screenwriter along the way. Or as I like to call it: the case where Sherlock finally gets to dance. Based off this prompt.

Rewind by All_I_need (E, 87,593 w. || Fake/Pretend Relationship, Pining, Angst, Sharing a Bed, Dancing Lessons, Oblivious John) – About a month before John's wedding, he and Sherlock embark on one last case together: a murder at a remote hotel in the middle of nowhere. A lot can happen in a week. And a lot doesn't. But what if ...?

Rosethorne by suitesamba (M, 98,888 w., 28 Ch. || Secret Garden AU || Injured Sherlock / John, Recovery, First Times, Minor Character Death, Disability, Past Domestic Abuse [Mary/OMC]) – John Watson, WWII army doctor, is injured in the line of duty and can no longer wield a scalpel. Sherlock Holmes, Britain’s best code-breaker, is side-lined by his own devastating injury. In a work inspired by Frances Hodgson Burnett’s “The Secret Garden,” the two men must find meaning and purpose in a world which seems to have taken away all they hold most dear. But of course, it really hasn’t.

October to Hogmanay by snorklepie (E, 127,318 w., 25 Ch. || Post HLV Fix-It, Awkward First Times, Hurt/Comfort, Sherlock is a Mess, Shameless Smut, Sherlock’s Past, Scotland, Poison, Holmes Family, Kilts, Dancing, Angst) – John stared at Sherlock’s profile against the cab window and exhaled slowly. After a long moment, he reached out and touched Sherlock’s long fingers where they were fiddling with the button on his coat. The tall man didn’t look around again, but his fingers slowly unfurled before curling deliberately around John’s hand. Part 2 of Scotland

Shatter Me by Loveismyrevolution (E, 162,856+ w., 20/24 Ch. || WiP || Sherlock Dances, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Angst with Happy Ending, Misunderstandings, Introspection, Mutual Pining, UST, Idiots in Love, Big Brother Mycroft, Implied Drug Use, Suicidal Thoughts, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions) – This is a story about two men trying to find their way back into the comfort of their companionship. No easy task in the aftermath of the events of Reichenbach, a wedding and a shot through the heart. They are facing a very rocky road ahead with a lot of introspection, misunderstandings, angst and pining. They each try to cope in their own particular way. Eventually, they'll find a way to communicate and learn about the true nature of their feelings.

#steph replies #johnlock fic recs #my fic recs #dancing fics #themiddlenameslove #long post

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badrpmemes · 3 years ago

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Crooked House Sentence Starters

Sentence starters from Gilles Paquet-Brenner’s 2017 adaptation of Agatha Christie’s 1949 novel, Crooked House. Feel free to change details as needed.

I'm sorry to surprise you like this, but I wasn't sure you'd agree to see me.

It's a family business.

For a fee, of course.

You should at least think about it.

A hard act to follow.

All right. Two days. Then I call in the hounds.

Though I do find a shotgun best expresses my feelings.

____ likes to think he rescued me.

We had a special bond.

Well, you said you were frightened.

We're a very odd family.

There's lots of ruthlessness in us, and different kinds of ruthlessness.

So you find out people's secrets?

I am by far the cleverest person in this house.

Much too frivolous for the occasion.

I drank far too much claret last night.

Hair of the dog, darling.

I must admit I am more of a cinema enthusiast.

You are twisting my words.

Can you make an effort now, please? For me?

Of course, the odds are against you.

I lost a poker game to the wrong people.

Besides, who actually wants to work for a living?

You don't seem remotely sad about it.

Can't I play detective too?

You don't smell of alcohol. Is ____ still asleep?

Good boy. Keeping a clear head.

Do feel free to come and go as you please.

I'm sorry, the door was open.

I know all there is to know about poisons.

I don't suppose you ever bring your work home with you, now?

Who told you it works?

If you're not careful, you may find yourself facing an accusation of slander.

How can you defame a murderess?

Perhaps we could continue this at a later date?

Being the favorite child isn't all jam.

Please. I like to keep busy.

Why, you're not what I expected at all.

Please, don't think that crying is my natural state.

I dreamed of someone nice, who would make a fuss over me.

I have a delicate question for you.

But rumor has it that you two get along well.

What do these people know about the real world anyway?

Are you done with your interrogation?

You're lucky you're able to talk to them.

You're making this up, aren't you?

People don't pay attention to me in this house.

It is a hothouse of suppressed passion.

Will you shut up and light my bloody cigarette?

I hope I can rely on your absolute discretion here.

You're an extremely intrusive person, ____.

This sort of money would solve most people's problems.

All I ever did was let him down.

Don't creep up on people like that.

People who eavesdrop seldom hear good of themselves.

Buddy, you're being followed.

I believe we have a mutual friend.

He's right, you are a clown.

There's politics involved here. It's sensitive.

Now, give me something, so I can still have faith in you.

If anything, you're Watson.

Well, why don't you enlighten me, Holmes?

I often make things up. It stops me from getting too bored.

Sometimes people don't know what they know.

Not everything they say on television is true.

I'd say we're due another murder.

You really seem to make a habit of barging in, don't you?

I'm not sure the world needs to know about that.

My car seems to have broken down.

Would you like me to take you home?

I've just invited ____ to stay the night.

Now that's a much more interesting idea.

Please don't make me miss all the fun.

Your presence seems to have brought everyone together.

I'm sure he thinks of all of us as potential murderers.

I don't envy you your job.

You see now why I didn't want you involved with my family?

There's nothing like a real heart-to-heart.

You're just like the rest. Take her to bed and be done with it.

Oh, what a high moral tone you're taking.

I have to give it to her. She's got a special gift for dividing people.

You've been in the wars.

They could kill you in an instant if they really wanted to.

My poor cherub.

It's one hell of a burden on your shoulders.

You are an extremely clever woman.

I have seen what it takes to operate at a certain level, and it is not always pretty.

You old hypocrite!

You redeemed yourself at the last moment.

Always leave a party at its height...when you're most enjoying it.

Perhaps she wasn't the intended target.

Nobody gets to leave here without my express permission.

Every time we make you disappear, you keep popping back up.

Is there anyone you're remotely fond of?

Oh, my darling. I love you more than you'll ever know.

I think they'll have everything we could possibly want once we get there.

I certainly had a good reason to do it, though.

Today, I have to be very brave.

But every task worth doing has a hard bit.

What did we do to her?

No, no, it's okay. It wasn't you.

#rp memes #ask box memes #sentence starters

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grigori77 · 3 years ago

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Summer 2021′s Movies - My Top Ten Favourite Films (Part 1)

The Runners-Up:

20. LUCA – I’ll admit I really wasn’t sold on Disney/Pixar’s coming-of-age fantasy comedy, which revolves around a pair of young sea monsters living off the coast of the 1950s Italian Riviera, who discover they can assume human form when they dry out and go on land on a quest of discovery. Thankfully the strong reviews convinced me to give it a chance – this is a frothy and irreverent romp through an exotically nostalgic world filled with Vespas, pasta-eating contests and found families that’s fun for kids of all ages.

19. FAST & FURIOUS 9 – the high concept action franchise may be bursting under the ever-increasing weight of its own ludicrousness, but it’s still TONS of fun, packed with stunning over-the-top action, colourful globe-trotting and a loveable bunch of misfits we’ve grown incredibly fond of over the past TWENTY YEARS. This time Dom (the irrepressible Vin Diesel) and the team are up against ruthless hi-tech mercenary Jakob (John Cena), a lethal jack-of-all-trades with a dark connection to the Toretto name.

18. REMINISCENCE – Westworld co-creator Lisa Joy’s attempt to make it on the big screen looks set to go down as one of the biggest cinematic flops of 2021, which is a shame because the feature-debuting writer-director has crafted a genuinely fascinating speculative sci-fi noir detective thriller. Set in a darkly dystopian future in which Global Warming has caused the sea levels to rise and society to start breaking down, it tells the story of Nick Bannister (Hugh Jackman), a former soldier who ekes out a living using revolutionary tech to help the idle rich relive their fondest memories, until a life-changing mystery from his own past resurfaces, threatening to tear his whole world apart. Frustratingly, it looks like most audiences are going to bypass this, which is a criminal loss.

17. FREE GUY – after a seven year hiatus, Night at the Museum director Shawn Levy returns to the big screen in fine form with this deliriously inventive fantastical comedy adventure about Guy (a typically on-fire Ryan Reynolds), an NPC in an anarchic, Grand Theft Auto style MMORPG called Free City who discovers his own sentience after falling in love with Millie (Killing Eve’s Jodie Comer), a player with a hidden agenda that puts them both at odds with the game’s nefarious creator, Antwan (a thoroughly hilarious Taika Waititi).

16. EVANGELION 3.0 + 1.01: THRICE UPON A TIME – visionary anime creator Hideaki Anno brings his long-running sci-fi saga to a close with this fourth instalment to his wildly ambitious cinematic “Rebuild” of cult TV series Neon Genesis Evangelion. It’s as frothy, melodramatic and bonkers as ever, packed full of weighty themes and crazy ideas, while the animation maintains this series’ ridiculously high levels of quality and the action is as explosive as ever, and Hideaki brings the whole mad mess to a climax that’s as rich, powerful and thoroughly befuddling as the saga deserves.

15. THOSE WHO WISH ME DEAD – Sicario writer Taylor Sheridan returns to the director’s chair (after impressive debut Wind River) with this intense and enthralling suspense thriller adapted by bestselling author Michael Koryta (along with Sheridan and Blood Diamond’s Charles Leavitt) from his own acclaimed novel. Angelina Jolie is (ahem) fiery but fallible as haunted smokejumper Hanna Faber, whose PTSD drives her to protect a desperate boy (Finn Little) who’s being hunted through the wilds of Montana by a pair of relentless assassins (Aidan Gillen and Nicholas Hoult).

14. CRUELLA – far from the clunky cash-in retcon many were predicting, Disney’s ambitious black comedy crime caper does a thoroughly admirable job in delivering this fascinating and deeply compelling reimagining of the story of rogue fashion designer Cruella de Vil (one of the best performances I’ve ever seen Emma Stone deliver, hands down), the dastardly villainess of 101 Dalmatians. She’s certainly far more complex here, no longer a raging monster, but far from a whitewashed PC apologist, either, much more of a morally grey antihero with a very wicked dark side – then again, with I, Tonya director Craig Gillespie at the helm it’s not really a surprise. Richly designed and dripping in spectacularly adventurous period detail, this is an divine romp from start to finish.

13. THE GREEN KNIGHT – the latest feature from writer director David Lowery (Ain’t Them Bodies Saits, Pete’s Dragon, The Old Man & the Gun) is as offbeat and unusual as you’d expect from a visionary filmmaker with such a wildly varied CV. Adapting the fantastical chivalric romance Sir Gawain & the Green Knight, he’s crafted what’s surely destined to be remembered as the year’s STRANGEST film, but it’s a work of aching beauty and introspective imagination that sears itself into the memory and rewards the viewer’s patience despite its leisurely pace. Dev Patel is unbearably sexy and wonderfully complex as Gawain, while Sean Harris delivers show-stopping support with stately charisma and world-weary integrity as King Arthur. This film is sure to divide opinions as well as audiences, but I think it’s a bona fide masterpiece that must be seen to be believed.

12. CANDYMAN – after watching this wildly imaginative and frequently gut-wrenching soft-reboot/sequel to Bernard Rose’s acclaimed adaptation of Clive Barker’s short story The Forbidden, I feel supremely confident about emerging writer-director Nia DaCosta’s coming MCU breakout with The Marvels. Wisely papering over the clunky previous sequels, this streamlined trailblazing deep dive into the pure horror of the legend of the righteously mad spectral killer haunting the Chicago housing ghetto of Cabrini-Green sees a daring modern artist (Aquaman’s Yahya Abdul-Mateen II) find his latest project turning into a dangerously self-destructive obsession. Writer-producer Jordan Peele’s fingerprints are all over this, but DaCosta clearly shows signs that she’s going to be a hell of a talent to watch in the future.

11. THE WITCHER: NIGHTMARE OF THE WOLF – I wouldn’t normally shout about an animated spinoff to a TV series like this, but I was SO INSANELY IMPRESSED with this brilliant prequel to Netflix’ popular fantasy show (which clearly intends to lay some origin story groundwork for the impending second season) that I just can’t help myself. Recounting the backstory of Geralt of Rivia’s own Witcher mentor Vesemir, this beautifully expands on the already compelling universe the series has created, as well as delivering some breath-taking thrills and chills through some of the most exquisite cell animation I’ve ever seen outside of the greats of anime. A must-see for Witcher fans, then, but one I’d also highly recommend to anyone who likes their animation a bit more grown-up and edgy.

#movies 2021 #luca #disney luca #fast & furious 9 #reminiscence #reminiscence movie #free guy #evangelion thrice upon a time #rebuild of evangelion 4 #those who wish me dead #those who wish me dead movie #cruella #cruella movie #the green knight #the green knight movie #candyman #candyman 2021 #the witcher nightmare of the wolf #awesome sauce

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ladyeliot · 4 years ago

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Your legacy is my nightmare [½] Re-written

Avengers: Age of Ultron / Post Civil War

Pairing: Avengers/Tony Stark x Avenger!Reader

Summary: Your past was marked by Tony Stark, ever since a Stark Industries bomb hit that restaurant when you were 10 years old, during an attack on Novi Grad, the capital of Sokovia. From that moment on, the rage for revenge took hold of you, but things didn’t turn out the way you expected.

Warnings: Angst. Trauma. Deaths. Violence.

Word count: 5378

A/N: Sorry for my spelling and grammatical mistakes, English is not my native language, I am learning.

Reader Powers: Psionic Force Projection. Psionic force fields that she can manipulate in various ways.

When you were five years old you discovered that there was a completely different world inside that magic box. A world that seemed far away from the small town you lived in, a world that could capture your attention, that made you laugh, that grabbed you, and that you dreamed of living in in the future. It was then that American sitcoms became your world.

Your childhood in Novi Grad, the capital of Sokovia, was like that of any other child, totally happy. You were an only child, you were born and raised in a hard-working and extremely loving family, your parents loved you and you loved them, because all they wanted was to make you happy. Your birth took place on a sunny morning in June, creating the tradition that every birthday you went out to do something special, something out of the ordinary routine of everyday life. On your sixth birthday your parents took you to the amusement park, discovering that you weren’t too fond of Ferris wheels. During your eighth birthday your parents opted to take you to a football match, which you enjoyed quite a lot. On your ninth birthday, the three of you took a little trip to the mountains, discovering that you were completely allergic to wasp stings, but on your tenth birthday, everything changed.

For several weeks you had been pestering your mother to go to the new restaurant that had opened in the city centre. Remember that you were madly in love with American sitcoms from the 1950s, which were constantly on reruns on Sokovia television, so you couldn’t have been luckier when you found out that they had opened an American-style restaurant in the city centre. Your mother used to make excuses for not going, but not because she didn’t want to, but because she wanted to wait until your tenth birthday to go and have lunch with the three of you as a family, and that’s how it happened. The morning of your tenth birthday, Novi Grad dawned bright and shiny, there was hardly a cloud in the sky, and the sun was shining. It was Saturday, so there was neither school nor any job that would prevent you from spending the day apart. Your face changed to excitement when you discovered a note along with a special breakfast, informing you of a surprise lunch at Fred’s, the American-style restaurant. At the time you thought you were the luckiest girl in the universe, and that nothing and no one was going to change your mind, but things never work out the way you expect them to.

At around 13:15 you were seated at a table, and you yourself had decided which table you preferred, opting for the one right next to the large window, where you could watch the crowds passing by on the street. While your father informed the waitress about the menu you were going to have, you played with the bottle of ketchup while looking out of the window, on Saturdays the centre was usually crowded and that put you in a good mood. A Jukebox harmonised the atmosphere with typical songs of that decade, you had no idea what the song was, but you knew that you had heard it before in some sitcom. You were delighted, you seemed to be part of one of those comic scenes that made you laugh night after night, however something outside caught your attention, making you drop the bottle of ketchup from your hands. The scene was strange, people were no longer walking, running, no longer laughing, shouting, but you barely had time to utter “Mum…” before a bomb smashed through the large window.

Trauma. An inconsistent word that has so many negative connotations for the person who suffers from it. You never thought that a life filled with numerous catastrophic experiences could ever find the meaning of the word ‘Peace’ again, yet there you were, searching for it. The placid singing of the water crashing against the stones of the riverbed was the best melody you could wake up to every morning. After so many years you had found a place away from civilisation, far from the terror of humanity. A hut in the middle of the green and brown fields of Wakanda, a place where nothing and no one could disturb you. You could say, you could barely remember the time when you were at peace with yourself, maybe your childhood, but there was nothing left of that. However, the harmony around you, together with the humility of country life had given you back all the strength you needed to be able to go on with your life.

But now the question is how you came to Wakanda and why. It had been almost a year since a terrifying experience in the maximum security prison for humans with superpowers, also known as the Raft, prevented you from ever finding inner peace again. During the indeterminate period of time you were held in that underwater facility, the guards did terrible things to your brain. Fear for your powers caused them to take the initiative in using brain torture methods, the only way they discovered that was effective in overriding them. It left scars on you that would last a lifetime, if you made it out of there alive, which you came to believe would be impossible.

The next question is how you came to find yourself in that situation, but we’d better go back to the beginning, when that bomb hit that American-style restaurant in your hometown of Novi Grad. The darkness came moments after the projectile pierced the glass of that building and found its way into the ruins inside, creating a gaping hole underground. The loss of time and space came upon you, when you opened your eyes there was nothing, it was all darkness, yet a red, flickering light was just a few centimetres from your face. You could not move, your limbs were confined by the debris, you could only see the light that slightly illuminated the small air chamber in which you found yourself. You saw that metallic object in front of you, which had written on its side words that were engraved in your memory forever 'Stark Industries’.

It was a long period in which tears silently flowed from your eyes, it was indescribable the way fear clung to your body, with a small hope of being found that flickered on and off with that red light. You hardly knew what that light meant, that it really was a 'lucky break’ for you, at least that’s what all the news said when you were rescued two days later. Eventually you discovered that the bomb must have exploded, that like your parents and all the other members of the local, you must have died.

Your life after that did not improve, but you found them, Wanda and Pietro Maximoff. Your similar experiences during the bombing of Sokovia brought you together, they had also lost their parents and now you were three orphans who were confined from house to house waiting to come of age and flee the place. The country of Sokovia became a war zone, with US troops frequently invading the streets, causing protests by the locals to intensify. During your youth you were a very active part of them, along with the twins, especially those against 'Stark Industries’. What those experiences generated was that the hatred you had hidden for Stark resurfaced again. The three of you wanted to purge your nation of foreign conflicts, so you met a division fighting for the same thing called HYDRA. You joined together, hoping to change the world, hoping to seek peace and freedom again, but that is not what happened. That group had very different ideas, ideas that you three were obviously not a part of, yet your innocence played a trick on you. Stucker, the leader of the division, offered you power, an outlet in the fight against violence, and you accepted, exposing yourselves to a series of physical experiments, called the 'Miracles’ programme. The programme consisted of exposing your bodies to radiation emitted through a sceptre that you had no idea what it was. Thirty-two people participated in the experiment, only you three remained alive. This caused a series of supernatural powers to develop in each of you. In your case, the psionic force took control of your body.

At this point HYDRA had got what it wanted, three superhumans to fight the Avengers, including Iron Man, aka Tony Stark, CEO of Stark Industries. It was impossible to admit that this was too juicy an incentive for you to pass up. The Avengers travelled to Sokovia with the intention of stealing the sceptre that gave you your powers. It was then, at the age of 25, after fifteen years of waiting for that moment, that you came face to face with the creator of the bomb that killed your parents, in that HYDRA operations centre in Sokovia. For the first time you could look him in the eye.

“Hey, J, a quick infrared scanner to the room,” he said in the middle of that wide ship, he had shed the suit, which was now operating on its own.

“The column to your left, I detected a human presence, with radiation levels off the charts,” the suit spoke up, discovering your position.

There was no point in staying hidden, it was the opposite of what you wanted, you wanted him to see you, to have the courage to look you in the eye, to not know who you were and let him know. Tony turned quickly towards that column that the inner voice of his suit had informed him about and bumped into you. The moment came. The brown of his iris projected towards you, he looked terribly harmless, he raised his left hand and Iron Man’s limb covered his own, projecting the palm of his hand towards your body. A smirk of arrogance amplified on your mouth.

“I mean you no harm,” his voice came out fast.

“So late,” you whispered without wiping away the smile, as you slowly raised your palms, creating a psionic field in a circular shape.

Just as Iron Man’s limb had attached itself to yours, the entire suit suddenly encircled your body. At that very moment you projected the psionic field towards him, starting a fierce battle in the middle of that ship. A battle that lasted no more than ten minutes due to your lack of ability to control, manipulate and project your powers. But that would be the first of many times you were to encounter him, that first encounter left you with a thirst for vengeance that would eventually fade, but at that moment it was impossible for you to know.

Things evolved over time, from HYDRA you came to ULTRON, who immersed you in his power, told you he was coming to save the world, but also to wipe out the Avengers, trapping you again in his intentions, believing his were the same as yours. Baron Von Strucker was killed shortly after by Ultron, now it was just the four of you, Ultron, the Maximoff twins and you.

At Salvage Yard, on the African Coast, was the second encounter. Your little group had headed out to meet Ulysses Klaue, an international criminal and underground black market arms dealer, to obtain the world’s most durable material, vibranium, however the Avengers also showed up, making the encounter more interesting. Thor, Captain America and Iron Man stood before the four of you in the middle of a gorge of corridors inside that container ship. There was Iron Man again, covering the body of Tony Stark inside.

“Are you comfortable?” Pietro turned his gaze to a set of missiles that were located on the lower deck. “Like the old times?

"This was never my life,” Iron Man replied, his voice neutral.

“Of course not,” you interjected, stepping to Pietro’s side. “He’s just the enforcer, isn’t he?”

“You can still walk away from this,” Captain America interjected, offering a nostalgic gesture from under his helmet.

“Oh, we’ll do it,” you said with marked indifference. “When the time comes.”

“I know you have suffered,” Captain America commented, eliciting a broad smile from you.

“You know that…” you whispered with a grin, lowering your gaze to your hands where psionic force was slowly concentrating through your fingers. “I really don’t care if you know.”

“It’s about me,” Tony’s stiff voice hit the mark.

“Bingo,” you said wryly just as a wide psionic field formed between your hands offering the signal for the battle to begin.

Disproportionate beams of light slammed into your pupils, energy bursting from each of you, causing the others to stand on guard and find their opponent to carry out their actions. Ultron’s minions moved to counterattack, while you scattered without a specific destination. You had had weeks of training to be able to face the new encounter you all knew was coming, and you could feel your control over your powers becoming more extended, but to do so you had to have your full attention focused on your actions.

The clash between you and Iron Man sent you off course, into a maze of dark corridors and passageways that were only illuminated by the energy coming out of that armour. Your psionic strength kept at bay the radiation that poured from the palm of his gauntlets and the monorail on his chest, causing it to bounce hard off the iron blocks of the walls.

“I’m not who you think I am,” Tony Stark’s voice came through the armour.

“Very subtle when you hide behind a mask,” your words caused the mask that covered Tony’s face to be exposed.

You stared into his eyes, feeling the energy burning inside you, feeling it building up in your hands, so you raised the palm of your hands without holding back, letting all that power come out and collide with the stealth lightning that Tony Stark let out of the palm of his hands. As if the two segments of energy were fighting a battle of their own they connected. With each draw of energy, exhaustion began to wash over you, knowing that you couldn’t last much longer than a couple of minutes in that situation. The clash caused sparks to reach each of the four sides of that corridor, denting the iron, melting it, but neither of you noticed.

At the third minute you pulled your hands away and threw yourself to one side so that its beam would not hit your body. Almost out of breath you dropped to the ground holding your palms up, Tony stopped the repulsor bolts of his gauntlets and turned his gaze upon you, but just as he took a step to approach you, a sharp, screeching noise caused you to change the destination of your gaze. What your eyes saw caused a nightmare to cling to your memory, the ceiling began to collapse, your exhaustion prevented you from creating a psionic field, your body became unresponsive and your mind locked. Your only institute was to close your eyes as tightly as you could, not knowing what was going to happen, but at that very moment when you heard how everything started to collapse, arms caught your body clutching it against a rigid chest and pulled you out.

So it was that once again a new failure was added to the list of your interventions. When you opened your eyes your body was lying prostrate in a corner of the main ship’s nave, where it had all started, but where there was no one left. The consumption of energy you had expended had left you without a shred of power within you. You looked up, your eyes a representation of the terror that had just reminded you of that moment, barely able to keep your breathing calm, and barely able to keep the words in your mouth when you saw Tony Stark’s face in front of yours again, before he looked away and walked away.

That was a turning point, for the next time you met Tony Stark face to face, you were on the same side. After the battle at Salvage Yard, the four of you, Ultron, the twins and you travelled to Seoul where Ultron’s true intentions were revealed. Ultron intended to create a genocide of humanity as a whole, he intended to create an enhanced body to dispose of his own. This horrified the three of you, causing you to flee from his power, causing Ultron’s wrath to prevail, creating a conflict in Seoul, in which the Avengers appeared. But the important thing in that was that the three of you joined the Avengers to save what had been your city, the place where you were born, Novi Grad.

You knew of Ultron’s plans for humanity, his intention was to create a device that would lift the city of Novi Grad into the sky, then drop it to Earth in a meteoric impact. On the way back to Sokovia, the place where it all began, a host of inexplicable feelings came to you, anger, shame, humiliation, hypocrisy… all related to your actions. Silence was present over the three of you, no conversations except those present to plan actions upon your arrival.

“Ultron knows we’re coming. Odds are we’ll be riding into heavy fire, and that’s what we signed up for. But the people of Sokovia, they didn’t. So our priority is getting them out, ” the words coming from Steve made you nod, keeping your eyes averted. “All they want is to live their lives in peace, and that’s not going to happen today.” You felt Tony’s eyes on you, you looked up to confirm it, but this meeting of glances made you uncomfortable, changing your position. “But we can do our best to protect them. And we can get the job done, and find out what Ultron’s been building. We find Romanoff, and we clear the field. Keep the fight between us.” He paused. “Ultron thinks we’re monsters and we’re what’s wrong with the world. This isn’t just about beating him. It’s about whether he’s right.“

Those last words crashed into you, you had been asking yourself the same question for weeks, you also needed to have an answer to it. So that’s how the end of the beginning began. You could never imagine what it would be like to see hundreds of people running through those streets again, the streets where you had grown up, where you had fought for your ideals and where you were now saving all those people so that the events you had experienced would never happen again. Each of you had a specific area, your mission was to guide the population to the safe side, protecting them from Ultron’s minions. Everything seemed to be going as assured, however time ran out, the ground began to crack, creating cracks, splitting the earth, causing an area of the city to rise into the air.

The terror of the scene brought you back to your childhood, you leaned against a building keeping your breathing as calm as possible and looked around you, the horror was present again, the screams of the people made a dent inside you, you closed your eyelids as tight as possible and put your hands to your head trying to erase that sound from your mind. Your back was slowly sliding down the wall until you were sitting completely on the ruins of the building.

“Hey!” Steve’s voice sounded close to you. “Are you okay?” his question barely got an answer from you, you felt his hand resting on your shoulder. “Hey, look at me. Are you okay?” you opened your eyes again and with a terrified look on your face you nodded, looking for the strength to face it. “I need you, those people need you, I know this is crazy, I know you’re terrified, but so are they.” You looked around you contemplating the massacre. “You can help them, they are your people.”

Again, Steve’s words gave you the courage you needed to find the calm within yourself, stand up and do everything you could to stop those robots that Ultron had built and turned into his allies. You knew what your mission was, you had a mission now and you couldn’t let it paralyse you.

“Stark, you worry about bringing the city back down safely. The rest of us have one job: tear these things apart. You get hurt, hurt 'em back. You get killed… walk it off.”

The population was congregated in a specific point of the city, there was no solution to evict them if that part of the city did not come down and land again, until a ship, the Helicarrier, appeared between the clouds to create a solution to one of your problems, the eviction of the population. Now all that was left to do was to get that piece of land back in place.

“Avengers, time to work for a living,” Tony announced over the intercom. While the population was getting to safety in the boats, you as a whole had gathered at the church in Novi Grad, where Ultron had located the core, or rather the button, with which he would bring the city down, destroying all of humanity.

“What’s the plan?” you asked, confused by the situation.

“This is the drill. If Ultron gets a hand on the core, we lose,” Tony replied pointing to the vibranium contraption in the centre of the shattered dome.

In front of you hundreds of robots captained by Ultron approached without stopping their pace. You sucked air into your lungs, awaiting the arrival of one of the most crucial moments of your existence, perhaps the most crucial, for in a few hours you could possibly be extinct along with humanity.

“This is exactly what I wanted. All of you, against all of me,” Ultron also had his plan and that was. “How could you possibly hope to stop me?”

“Well, like the old man said,” Tony looked at each of you. “Together.”

The battle for survival began. You thought the previous battles you had fought were the ones that could change the course of your destiny, the ones where you had faced Tony Stark, but you couldn’t have been more wrong, that was nothing compared to what you were going through right now. Each of you was part of that team, your energy was renewed every time you used it because you were fighting for a reason, the strength in you shone through. You were all a team and you were getting through this together. One by one Ultron’s robots fell, until there were none left standing, but it wasn’t over.

“We gotta move out. Even I can tell the air is getting thin. You guys get to the boats, I’ll sweep for stragglers, be right behind you,” Steve asked just after the last robot was down.

“The core-” began Tony after he had bared his face, but you barely let him finish his words.

“I’ll protect it,” you said firmly, giving a slight nod to yourself, “it’s my job.”

Tony connected his eyes with yours offering you a slight nod, just before he covered his face again and flew away. “I’ll stay with you,” added Wanda to whom you offered a faint smile before everyone disappeared from the scene and Pietro was ordered to return to you once everyone was in the boats. Everything seemed to be going according to plan, only a few straggling robots were presenting themselves to you with the intention of overthrowing your mission, but something happened. You felt your friend’s body collapse right behind you, you turned your head and saw Wanda’s face distorted, your eyes widened in confusion as she began to utter a scream that made your eardrums ring. She fell to her knees, causing her powers to spiral out of control in the crash, destroying every element in her path, so you had to create a force field around yourself in the hope that you would be unaffected. Your thoughts began to connect, trying to find an answer to his attitude, and you found it. Pietro.

You both walked through the streets, but she scattered within minutes Wanda disappeared in search of Ultron, leaving you there, but there was no one left to fight with, or fight for. It was at the very moment you questioned the functionality of your existence that Novi Grad plummeted thousands of feet into the air, offering you the answer to your question. Your eyes closed but you were no longer afraid, on the contrary, you had been able to find peace, everything came to an end in the same place where it all began. But as if someone had been watching over you, you felt arms holding your body and slowing down the frantic rhythm of the plummeting fall. You opened your eyes and found yourself being held by Iron Man’s armour.

“ I got you,” he said flying in the opposite direction, managing to dodge the ruins of that city. “Now Thor!”

A new turning point that changed the course of your actions and your destiny lay before you. Despite your best efforts, nearly 120 lives were lost during the Battle of Sokovia, including that of Pietro Maximoff. It was a before and after, symbolising the power of war and what could be its fatal consequences. For you it was a judgement, a learning experience, feeling guilty for much of what had happened, for helping HYDRA, for helping Ultron, to elaborate his actions. Your guilt led you to rethink your future, the course of new events led you and Wanda to a new country. You arrived in the United States, welcoming the New Avengers Facility as a new home. Offering you a roof to sleep under, training for your powers and a new family, though you didn’t feel that way at first.

You spent many hours in search of solitude, at the end of that green esplanade, when the tall oak trees were beginning to remind you of home. It was one afternoon in the first week, when you were still adjusting to it all, and you found yourself reading, leaning against a tree trunk.

“Hiding?” Tony’s voice pulled you out of your reading. “Oh, Sylvia Plath, great,” you looked at him, but offered no response, so he opted to sit awkwardly right in front of you on the grass. “Listen, we haven’t had much time… you know,” he took off his sunglasses and shrugged. “I’ve been looking through the files and … I know what happened to you… with your parents.”

“You know,” you said with a raised eyebrow, putting the book aside. “Do you also know what happened to the other thousands of people or do you only have a file on me and a file on Wanda and Pietro?”

The confidence in your voice was at odds with the insecurity Tony was showing, so when you saw him turn his head to the right side as he crumpled his face you opted to do what you had been thinking about for the last few days, call it a day.

“Listen. I’ve spent many years imagining what it would be like when I had you in front of me,” you began to say calmly, keeping your gaze fixed on your fingers as Tony watched you with his head cocked to one side, listening to you intently. “In what I was going to tell you, in the way I would let you know the pain I felt inside, because to me you were to blame for everything bad that had happened to me,” you paused, took a breath and thought about what you were going to say next. “But the moment I had you in front of me I didn’t say anything I had planned to say, I let my anger and pain guide me, and it didn’t do any good. The same thing happened the second time, and the third time it was pointless because there was something much more important to fight for.”

“I…” Tony interjected.

“Please, let me finish,” you cut him off, causing Tony to nod and turn his attention back to you. Sadness clouded his features. “So now I have you in front of me again I just want you to know that I have realised that…” you paused causing Tony to make a slight gesture of approaching you, but when you started to speak again he stopped. “I have no intention of you bearing my ghosts, but I need you to know that I spent two days under the rubble waiting for Stark to kill me,” your voice cracked, and Tony’s eyes reddened. “Watching your name light up on the side of that missile every time that flashing red light illuminated the darkness, hearing that beeping sound that I still can’t erase from my mind, terrified that my breathing would cause that bomb to detonate because my limbs could barely move.”

For the first time you raised your face to meet wide open brown eyes, reddened and unable to hold your gaze for long. Tony’s face was pale during those moments, his body was no longer upright and he was nervously running his hand over his lips.

“With that said, it only remains for me to let you know that I will not let the hatred and vengeance of a ten year old consume me,” you looked back down at your hands, allowing Tony’s eyes to fall on you again. “I’ve seen the power that resentment brings with it, I don’t want that for myself,” you connected your gazes. “Then I suppose I must forgive you in order to move forward.”

Silence. Silence flooded the room leaving heavy breaths in the air that symbolised the tension of the situation you were both experiencing for the first time right now. There was no right answer to everything you had said, it was clear to you that Tony didn’t know how to act at that moment. You sat cross-legged on the damp grass, watching him, seeing how he couldn’t hold your gaze since you had explained that you saw his name reflected in that missile. Yet he fought against it and focused his brown eyes on yours.

“I promise you…” he began stiffly, but again you cut him off.

“Tony, don’t promise me anything,” your voice was soft, as if you were talking to a small child. "Please.“

After your denial of his action, he only nodded. He merely nodded as he intertwined his fingers and began to fidget restlessly with his left leg.

"Then I don’t know what you want,” his tone offered an enormous insecurity marked by nervousness.

“That’s the point. I don’t want anything, Tony,” you said without fidgeting.

“All right,” he nodded confusedly, rising quickly but awkwardly from the grass in an attempt to get away from the situation. “So… I hope it’s all to your liking.”

With that said, he turned his back on you and left the same way he had come. Leaving you under the shade of that oak tree with Sylvia Plath.

Now, too much had happened since then, much of it was why you found yourself in Wakanda trying to juxtapose all that had happened, but what you didn’t know was that on that placid morning when you went for a walk along the banks of that small riverbed, Shuri and T'Challa would come to inform you that he was there and that he had asked to speak with you.

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