#cluedo prompts

[petvampire]

Aaaaah thank you all so much for all of the wonderful prompts! Definitely gonna be working through them, and still also working through my extant prompt/ask list, don’t worry!

But for now we have, for @tuhkasirius :

Crystal x Niko, in the ballroom, with the revolver. 💖

~

The strains of music, some kind of chamber quartet playing, makes the whole night seem like they’ve gone back in time. Crystal thought she was used to an antiquated sort of feel - she hangs around Edwin, after all - but this is entirely different. It’s not just one person, it’s like the whole room is from another era.

She’s been to fancy parties before, usually dragged there by her parents, and they didn’t feel like this. A grand ballroom filled with rich people, antique furnishings, and that music. It’s kind of insane, but it’s also kind of cool.

Niko stifles a giggle as she presses close, making sure no one overhears. “I feel like we’re in a spy movie.” They’ve caused quite a stir, dancing together, and that’s kind of the point. They’re the distraction. Still, Crystal appreciates the moment, the opportunity. Niko doesn’t dress up often, and the psychic will admit her jaw almost dropped when her girlfriend came out in her outfit for tonight.

She’s obviously been spending way too much time with the Cat King, because no way would Niko have picked out this dress on her own. It’s as white as her hair, silk and close-fitting, with a high neck but a back that dips low, almost to her waist. A strand of glittering necklaces spans her shoulderblades, emphasizing that stretch of bare back. She almost glows in the low light, and she would have been eye-catching even without Crystal at her side.

The psychic herself is in a violet so dark it’s almost black, like a shadow to Niko’s light. The skirts of her dress billow out around her as she pulls the other girl into a turn, having to smile at the look of joy on Niko’s face.

They might actually be here on a job, but they’re having fun, too.

The night has to come to an end sometime, though, and the flicker of the lights is a warning just before they go out, plunging the ballroom into darkness and the rich partygoers into panic. Distantly, Crystal sees the pale shape of a ghost - Charles or Edwin, she’s not sure from here - pass through the wall, and that’s their cue.

Niko hoists up her skirts, and Crystal almost blows their cover and bursts out laughing because she’s wearing a pair of pure white, bedazzled Converse underneath. She manages to contain her mirth for now, though, as she tangles her hand with the girl’s and they rush towards one of the shelves of displayed artifacts. That’s what they’re here for: a cursed antique revolver, one stolen from a dead soldier’s grave, that’s preventing him from going to his final rest. It’s under glass, usually protected by a security system, but with the power out, all they have to do is pick the lock and grab.

They’ve practiced doing it quickly, and the operation runs like oiled silk now. Crystal tosses the gun to Edwin, who gives her a tiny, approving smile. “Having fun, are you?” She rolls her eyes, but can’t hide her returning grin.

By the time the lights come back up - Charles is a dab hand at interfering with them, giving them plenty of time - the two girls are well away from the plundered case, huddled together, still terribly obvious, their presence a continuing distraction. No one will check for the revolver until tomorrow, most likely. By then, the ghost it was stolen from will be at peace, the gun returned to his grave.

Job done; the rest of the night is theirs.

Crystal makes sure to kiss Niko long and lingering just to scandalize the party crowd.

[choochooboss]

Submas Sketchdump Vol. 4 July 2022 Part 2!!

I knew that particular month beat my all time record for productivity multifold but I had forgotten SO MANY PIECES from the original collection!! I think I finally got them all?? More stuff under the cut!!

BREAKMAS!! WIP of the first piece I posted of them, here's the link to the final version! I tried coloring this first but the black & white had ultimately more impact so I went with that!

TRAINS!! I like this base color version too! Link to the final version!

The top sketch is a direct reference to Cluedo! A spinoff game, "Missingo", starring certain familiar characters trying to figure out what happened to Ingo/trying to prove their innocence in the case! Also WIP sketches for these two Breakmas comic pages!

As you may know I adore butlermas! For the classy and stylish look which appeals to me in general, and coincidentally I had played PLA & got hit by submas train only one week before butler Ingo's banner rolled out! The pure bliss of finally meeting both twins in a game I felt was incomparable!! This moment in the Curious Tea Party event was really entertaining to me! We got to see submas get serious and stand up against this selfish collector thief! Two towering train twinks with commanding voices looming over the unfortunate guy was enough to make him change his mind ahah! They truly are the protectors

1-hour submas challenge prompt "Descend"! This is the actual one hour result before I continued rendering this!

Mmmmm not my first attempt at drawing them hug and definitely not my best OR last. I want to make that moment something very special when I finally go all out on it!!

Comic cover vibing~

The scrapped last page for this silly comic! Sorry the dialogue is all over the place on the first piece, might be hard to read! I wasn't happy with how I presented Elesa, I wasn't familiar enough with her character back then so I thought of her carrying a toy taser to threat her friend even as a joke was too much and I couldn't come up with anything else for it. This held me back from posting the other three pages for another 5 months! In the last panel

I prefer to not mess up the twins too much but my brain is still very curious and conjures some peculiar stuff like this sometimes.. I think I may have broken his arms there looking at the anatomy, ooops! I hope you don't mind the photo quality or the two weird guys in the corner, they escaped containment!

Idea of warden Ingo, being projected to modern era by his Alakazam, walking through crowd on a train platform & Emmet standing inside a passing train. Their eyes meet for just a few seconds...

Pokemas Ingo practise!

Another WIP of a piece I posted! I started this piece like this but then later I decided to flip the whole thing.

YET another WIP of something I already posted! No idea why I went and mixed up his suits but I like this sketch! They rarely end up looking this clean haha

Sketch version of the self-defense practise piece! I love getting creative with action stuff! I barely ever think of how difficult they are to draw, I just get so excited and fixated on visualising the scenes in my mind I just keep at it, pull out refs and pose in front of mirrors until it looks good to me! I want to draw more action scenes but besides being challenging to draw my brain comes up with more silly and cute ideas than cool ones unfortunately ahah

One more WIP, here's the link to the final results!! I really like how genuine their expressions look here even if the faces are a little off. I recall spending a long time figuring out this perspective. I thought it would be fun to you to see how all these pieces started and... looking at the sketch above and the stuff before that, you can compare some range of my style!

RANDOM SUBMAS MISSILES GO

OHHH looks like some nasty passengers got the best of them!! If I recall correctly there was no fight because they managed to paralyse the two before they could act. Fully awake yet completely helpless... how convenient unfortunate. Thank you so much for checking these out!! Not every sketch is that exciting but I'm always happy to hear your thoughts on these!

Previous posts: Sketch dump Vol. 1: April-June 2022 Sketch dump Vol. 2: July 2022 Sketch dump Vol. 3: August 2022

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

High Stakes

18/12: Board Games and Breath Play - Ettore Word Count: 2.4k~ | Warnings: strip poker, slight degradation, breath play and face fucking, dub con

12 Days of Smuff Masterlist

A/N: board games was a loose prompt for this one lol

“No.”

“Why?”

“No.”

She groans dramatically, “you are so fucking boring.”

Shuffling the cards expertly in his hands, he raises his eyebrows, “don’t care, now piss off.”

This was backfiring hellishly. She rolled her eyes, having exhausted literally everyone else on the ship to try and dull the numbing boredom of just simply existing here. The board game she’d bought with her was slung to one side, and she nudged it further with her foot, annoyed. “Cluedo. Cute,” she scoffed, the irony not lost on her. 

She slumps into the chair opposite him, her arms crossing over the table like a petulant child. Ettore doesn’t even look up, his focus on the deck of cards he’s shuffling with the kind of precision that makes it look like an art form. 

He's always been elusive. A mystery. But one she likes watching. He's always doing so with other prisoners, but he seems to mind when it's the other way around. When he's trying to concentrate.

“You play poker with Tcherny.”

“And?”

“Teach me.”

He scoffs, “fuck off, you’ll lose anyway.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she snaps back. “Did I ask for a motivational speech? No. I just want to learn,”  she fires, leaning back and kicking one foot up onto the table. Ettore’s eyes finally flick to hers, narrowed and glinting with something between annoyance and mild amusement.

He cuts the deck in a smooth motion, eyes still glued to the cards. “Get your feet off my table.”

“Make me.”

For a split second, it looks like he’s debating whether it’s worth the energy to actually toss her out of the room. Instead, he sighs heavily, his expression sliding into one of exasperated resignation as he leans forward, resting his forearms on the table.

“Fine,” he growls. “You want to learn poker? First lesson, don’t act like an idiot. It gives away your hand.”

She blinks, startled, before breaking into a grin. “Was that a joke? Ettore, are you feeling okay?”

He doesn’t dignify her with an answer, instead starting to deal the cards. As they land with a sharp snap against the table, her excitement is palpable.

“Alright,” she says, rubbing her hands together. “How do I win?”

He leans back in his chair, tilting his head. “Second lesson, don’t annoy the dealer.”

Ettore regretted agreeing to the game almost immediately.

She was terrible. Embarrassingly so. The kind of bad that made him question whether she even understood what a flush or a straight was, despite the twenty minutes he’d spent explaining it to her. He watched her fumble through another hand, the cards slipping from her fingers like she was holding them for the first time in her life.

She bit her lip, staring intently at her cards as if sheer willpower could turn her mess of a hand into something worth betting on. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“You can’t raise,” he said flatly. “You don’t even have anything. Literally. Nothing.”

She scowled. “How do you know that?”

“Because you’re holding your cards like a fucking open book,” he snapped. 

She huffed, dropping her cards onto the table with a dramatic sigh. “How about we make this more... interesting?”

He didn’t respond, just watched her with that cold, unimpressed stare that usually sent people running. She, of course, was immune.

“Strip poker,” she said casually, leaning back in her chair and tossing a card onto the table. “You win a hand, I lose something and vice versa. Simple.”

Ettore’s eyebrows lifted slightly, the first hint of interest he’d shown in the last half hour, his pupils dilating slightly. “You’re bad at this game,” he pointed out, but she merely shrugged.

“Unless you’d rather play strip poker with Tcherny, I can get him–”

“No.”

She raised an eyebrow, suppressing a grin. “Oh? He not your type?”

His fists clenched hard, suppressing, albeit barely, the desire to rip her head from her body. “You want to lose? Fine.”

And yet he still wanted to play. She smirked victoriously, watching him shuffle the deck once again and deal out the cards. Seeing that darkened look in his eyes, she thought she may have bitten off more than she could chew. But it was too exhilarating for her to care, in fact, it was a welcome distraction.

Predictably, she lost the next hand. With a dramatic groan, she peeled off her tank top and tossed it onto the table. Ettore’s eyes flicked to her now-bare shoulders, and she didn’t miss the way his smirk deepened.

“You’re terrible at this,” he taunted.

“Mmhm,” she hummed noncommittally, crossing her arms over her chest, not quite trying to cover herself. “Deal again.”

They played another hand. She lost again, of course, and Ettore’s smirk was practically a permanent fixture now, secretly wanting the bra to come off. But instead, she wiggled out of her sweatpants with exaggerated slowness, tossing them aside with a careless flick of her wrist.

But then something shifted.

The next hand, she won. Ettore frowned, brushing it off as a fluke. He wasn’t worried. His outer red shirt came off.

The hand after that, she won again. His brow furrowed, his confidence wobbling just a touch as he peeled off the long-sleeved white shirt that was underneath.

Ettore frowned, eyeing her more carefully now. She was shuffling like she’d done it a hundred times before, the cards flipping smoothly through her fingers. The way she dealt the next hand was too precise. Too confident.

His eyes narrowed. “You’ve played before.”

She grinned. 

“You hustled me,” he growled, leaning forward, his voice low and dangerous.

“Maybe.” She picked up her cards, glancing at him over the top with a smirk that was equal parts infuriating and triumphant. 

He bit the inside of his cheek, his confidence beginning to crack as the game dragged on. The pile of clothes at her feet wasn’t getting any bigger, but his was. His shoes, then his belt, then his sweatpants.

“You’re cheating,” he said, but there was no real heat behind it. He knew she wasn’t, and that only made it worse.

She tilted her head, feigning offense. “I’m just better than you.”

“You’re full of shit.”

She leaned forward, her smirk practically glowing now. “Tell you what,” she said, her voice dropping into a teasing lilt, “if you want to quit, just say the word. I won’t tell anyone you couldn’t handle it.”

He glared at her, his jaw tight as he tossed his cards onto the table. “Deal the next hand.”

By the time he was down to nothing but his boxers, the realisation had fully set in, she’d played him. And she wasn’t just good at poker, she was good at this, at getting under his skin and staying there. Ettore glared at his cards like they had personally betrayed him. His jaw clenched, the muscles in his forearm taut as he tossed his cards onto the table in defeat. Across from him, she leaned back in her chair, utterly victorious, her smirk practically gleaming in the dim light.

“That’s it,” she said, spreading her arms in mock triumph. “Game over. You’re out of clothes. Time to pay up.”

He didn’t move. His hands rested on the table, his expression stony. He was no stranger to feeling comfortable in his skin. He worked out, was proud of the form he’d built. But he did not like doing it at the mercy of someone else. Not when he felt like he wasn’t the one in control.

“No.”

“Feeling shy?”

“Fuck off,” he growled.

And then she saw it. The way his hand twitched, the shift in his posture as he sat just a little too still. Her eyes flicked downward, and realisation struck like a lightning bolt.

“Oh my God,” she said, her voice dripping with disbelief and amusement. “You’re hard.”

“Shut up,” he snapped, his voice low and sharp, but it was too late. She was already laughing, her head thrown back as she cackled.

“This is amazing,” she said between laughs, leaning forward to rest her chin on her hand as she studied him. “Big, bad Ettore, bricked up by a bit of strip poker.”

He didn’t respond, his glare intensifying as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

“Come on,” she teased, leaning closer beside him, her voice dropping to a whisper. “You’ve already lost. Might as well let me see the full package.”

He could feel it. The burn of violence, the burn of wanting to shift the tables of power. She was dangling hers in front of him like a toy, just waiting for him to stop and almost challenging him to. His lungs fired up with its need. He didn’t need to glance down at himself to know he was hard. When was the last time he’d even seen the supple flesh of a woman without having to imagine it during those dark, lonely nights in The Box? 

Even with her bra and underwear on, she was dangling herself in front of a man who had lashed out for less. His jaw ticked.

She wanted him to snap? Fine.

The table rattled beneath her as Ettore shoved her back, his hands gripping her arms hard enough to leave marks. She gasped, her fingers scrambling for purchase against the edge of the table. For a split second, something flickered across her face, fear, perhaps, but it was gone just as quickly, replaced by a practised calm that made his jaw clench. She felt the heat of him against her bare stomach, and her lips curved into a dangerous smile.

This would be a fight.

“You want to play games?” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “Don’t start something you can’t finish.”

“Who says I can’t finish?”

The words barely left her mouth before his lips crashed into hers, bruising and demanding, swallowing any retort she might have had. His hands moved with the same ferocity, one gripping her waist to pull her closer while the other tugged at the last scraps of fabric still clinging to her body. She let out a sharp gasp, her fingers threading into his hair as she kissed him back just as hard, her nails digging into his scalp like she wanted to draw blood.

It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t sweet. It was a fight, one neither of them intended to lose.

When his fingers hooked into her underwear, she twisted sharply, breaking free just enough to shove him backward. He stumbled, and before he could regain his footing, she surged forward, slamming her hands against his chest and sending him sprawling onto the cold metal floor.

Ettore barely had time to curse before she was on him, straddling his hips and pinning him down. Her thighs clenched tightly against his sides, her hands braced on his chest as she leaned over him, her hair falling in messy strands around her face. She was breathing hard, her cheeks flushed, her eyes sharp and wild with triumph.

“Not used to losing?” she asked, her tone dripping with mocking victory.

He stared up at her, his hands resting on her thighs like he was deciding whether to let her win or flip her over and reclaim control. His chest rose and fell with each heavy breath, his lips swollen and slick from their kiss.

“You’re playing a dangerous game,” he said, his voice low, his gaze locked on hers. But there was no hiding the hunger in his eyes, the way they drank her in like he couldn’t decide whether to tear her apart or worship her.

She leaned down, her face inches from his, her smirk returning. “Good,” she whispered. “I like it dangerous.”

She saw his throat bob with need as she made her way up his body, clenching her thighs to keep him where she wanted. 

“Do you?” she gleamed.

He glared up at her, his jaw tight, but the hunger in his eyes betrayed him. She slid back just slightly, enough to reach for the waistband of her underwear, her movements unhurried as she peeled them off and tossed them aside. His eyes flicked downward, his restraint unravelling as she settled herself back on top of him, her thighs framing his face.

It was hard and unyielding, the way her fingers threaded into his hair, pulling his lips to her wet and waiting core without delay, forcing herself onto his mouth and grinding, head tipped back with gasps and moans that she dare not hold back. His growl of frustration turned into a low, almost primal sound as his mouth met her. The first flick of his tongue made her gasp, and she felt her insides tighten around nothing. His hands slid up her thighs, holding her steady as he worked her with an intensity that made her toes curl and skin feel electric.

She shifted, her thighs pressing in against his head, limiting his movement. Ettore growled against her, the vibration sending a jolt through her, but she didn’t let up. “Breathe when I let you,” she murmured. 

For a moment, his body stilled, and she counted, grinding against his lips with every second, his nose pressed flush against her clit, and she felt him exhale sharply against her skin. Then, he pushed back with renewed fervour, his tongue exploring her with precision and hunger. She rewarded him with a roll of her hips, pressing herself harder against him.

Ettore’s grip on her thighs tightened as she continued to ride the line between giving him air and taking it away, her movements deliberate, teasing. He growled again, his fingers digging into her flesh as he matched her pace, his breath growing shorter with each movement. When she finally eased up, allowing him a gasp of air, his teeth grazed her in retaliation, a reminder that she was pushing him to the edge.

Finally, the wave of pleasure crashed over her, her body tightening as she let out a sharp cry, her grip on his hair almost painful. She shuddered against him, her thighs quivering as her climax overtook her, leaving her breathless and flushed. Ettore pulled back slightly as she released him, his face glistening and his breathing heavy. She looked down at him, her smirk returning despite the haze of satisfaction clouding her mind.

“You’re fucking insane,” he rasped, his voice raw, his gaze sharp and filled with heat.

“And you’re still here,” she replied, her voice soft but triumphant. She climbed off him, letting her fingers trail down his chest as she stood, before wrapping her palm around his aching erection, relishing in the choked groan he let out. 

“Looks like you’re starting to enjoy losing.”

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[lisbeth-kk]

May Prompts (28) Empty

The Luckiest Girl in the World (chapter 28)

Summary: Will Rosie be able to keep her secret from her parents until the big day?

Twenty-Eight Years Old

Seen in hindsight, the trip to Greece was a catalyst of what came later. On our last evening, Timothy and I had dinner at an almost empty restaurant on the cliffs of Fira. The sun was about to set, and the sea was bathed in colours of gold. When Timothy took my hands in his and asked me to marry him, it really was the perfect ending. Cliché, perhaps, but who cares? Luckily, he hadn’t bought the rings at one of the ridiculous jewellers on the island but brought them with him from London. (I said yes, by the way.)

***

As if faith wanted me to keep my secret from my parents, they were away on a three-week trip to New Zealand when we arrived back in London. I called Dee before I went to Baker Street to collect mail and check the fridge for outdated milk and decayed body parts. She had closed for the day, but when I called with my inquiry, she was instantly intrigued and asked me to pop into 221A before I left.

It was strange to see someone else living at Nana’s. Her old furniture had been donated to second-hand shops, new wallpaper, art, and futuristically designed chairs, tables and shelves made 221A look like something taken out of Star Trek or whatever. The kitchen and bathroom were recognisable with bits and bobs I remembered. Nana’s oven mittens, the kitchen utensils and the wallpaper. Over the kitchen table was a big photo of Nana.

“I’ve made some sketches for you,” Dee said after she’d inquired about the trip. “One on each shoulder, yes?”

She showed me her drawings and after some discussion, she made the adjustments I wanted. 

“See you tomorrow at six,” Dee said when I left. 

“Can’t wait!” I retorted excitedly.

***

Dee’s Den was everything you don’t expect a tattoo-studio to be. (At least if you’ve never set foot in one.) Airy, spacious and clean in the extreme. The first time I entered, I felt I needed to take my shoes off.

“No customer of mine will suffer from an infection. I’ve seen enough of that shit,” Dee said gravely.

Her improved sketches had been coloured when I arrived the next day, and they looked even better than I’d dreamt of. The tattoos would adorn each shoulder. One red poppy on the left, and a bee on the right. A t-shirt would cover them, and by the time Dad and Papa were back, they would’ve healed properly so I didn’t need to wrap them in plastic, and the soreness would be gone. I hoped to keep them a secret until the wedding day. My dress would be sleeveless and make sure to show off the tribute to my beloved parents.

***

We decided on a May wedding, and it was Dee’s idea to check if the venue from Nana’s funeral was available.

“She would’ve been so pleased that you all had some good memories from that place. Dancing and laughing, celebrating love.”

Both me and Timothy loved the idea, and we were in luck. Normally, the place needed to be booked at least a year and a half in advance, when it came to weddings, but they’d had a cancellation due to a broken engagement. Nine months to prepare.

***

I chose Liwia as my maid of honour. We had stayed in touch over the years, and she adored my parents, after they’d given her shelter when she needed it in the middle of her teens. Bella had been switched for Iris. They’d been together almost eight years, and Iris was six months pregnant with their first child. An unknown donor was the father.

“I’ve been meaning to ask if you were traumatised when you stayed with us,” I said on the final fitting of our dresses.

“What do you mean?” Liwia asked, clearly puzzled.

“Board games,” I explained dryly.

She laughed wholeheartedly and admitted that she’d never played Scrabble, Cluedo, orMonopoly, but stuck to chess and card games.

“Wise choice,” I retorted with a grin. “Though I have experienced knights, queens and bishops being thrown across 221B.”

***

My uncles picked me up at the salon where I’d been styled and dressed. Uncle Myc cocked an eyebrow when he saw my tattoos, but he was unable to hide how moved he was by this permanent gesture. Uncle Greg…well, he wasn’t that subtle, and needed a stern talking to from his husband to avoid ruining my dress and hair when he teared up and embraced me.

“You’re going to destroy them with this, love,” uncle Greg murmured.

I hadn’t been nervous before, but when the familiar place came into sight, my palms started to sweat, and my heart pounded in my chest. Inside, Timothy and my parents waited. The most important people in the world, apart from the men helping me out of the car. I kissed them and let them go in first to find their seats. One of the staff stood waiting for me to open the door once I’d decided to enter.

For a while I just stood there, my head blessfully empty. And then out of nowhere a wave of emotions washed over me. The memories of all the preparations and anxiety of the last week, regarding the flowers, the last seat arrangements we had to change the day prior, one of my shoes that disappeared without a trace… 

“Come on, Watson. You can do this,” I interrupted myself, using Papa’s former name on me to get me out of the unending loop of trifles and keep me focused.

I nodded to the man by the door who opened it for me, and I slowly made my way down the corridor to where Dad and Papa waited. They stood hand in hand outside the door to the ceremony room and turned abruptly when they heard my heels on the wooden floor.

“You look…”

“Oh, Bee…”

They were both teary-eyed, which didn’t bode well. I hoped they’d piled up with tissues, because this well would not be emptied any time soon.

With my heels on, I was the height of Dad. I seldom wore high-heeled shoes, so it was an alien feeling to stand face to face with him, literally speaking.

“You look gorgeous, sweetheart,” he whispered in my ear when he hugged me.

“Thank you,” I said and turned to Papa.

He’d frozen and he blinked profusely. Dad looked worried at him. He still hadn’t seen the tattoos. Papa’s eyes darted between them, clearly shocked to the core. I took his hand and squeezed it.

“Do you like them?” I asked quietly.

“Like what?” Dad inquired; his eyes hadn’t left Papa’s face during all of this.

“Look at me, Dad,” I said and finally he saw what Papa had seen minutes ago.

“Oh, my god,” he said and covered his mouth with his hand. “Rosie.”

“They are…” Papa clearly knew but was too shaken to believe what he’d deduced.

“Yes, Papa. They are. My tribute, homage, or whatever you want to call it. To you and Dad. To show you and everyone how much you mean to me. Dee made them while you were away. You have no idea how proud I am that I’ve managed to keep it a secret until now.”

Finally, out of his daze, Papa cupped my face and kissed my forehead and cheeks, careful not to disturb my hair or makeup.

“My precious girl,” he murmured. “I love you.”

“Stop! You’re making me cry,” I protested and tried my best to stay composed.

Dad sniffled and batted his eyes with a handkerchief.

“I’m never going to survive this day,” he muttered.

“John!” Papa exclaimed. “Don’t you dare.”

I knew I had to take the lead, or we would be stranded outside that door forever.

“Come on. The game is afoot,” I teased.

Also available on AO3

YES, there will be a continuation tomorrow.

This is also my entry for this month's Sherlock Challenge and the prompt ink.

@calaisreno @sherlockchallenge @totallysilvergirl @keirgreeneyes @raina-at

More tags in the replies

[la-muerta]

ART PROMPT for "Murder at the New York institute" by @themagnusbane

Pull out the Cluedo board they said. It would be fun to play they said. Nothing could possibly happen on Samhain they said. And now, Magnus and Alec, Clary and Izzy, Simon and Jace have been pulled into an alternate New York Institute, with no powers, no idea what has caused it, or who has brought them there. Oh. And there’s been a murder. Except, can you kill a dead man twice? And can Valentine Morgenstern just SHUT THE FUCK UP!

[Read it on AO3]

This artwork was created for the Shadowhunters Reverse Bang 2024: Presented by the @malecdiscordserver.

[mischief-and-tea-by-the-sea]

Murder Mystery AU

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Category: M/M Fandoms: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Doctor Strange (Movies) Relationship: Tony Stark/Stephen Strange Characters: Tony Stark, Stephen Strange, Sam Wilson (Marvel), Clint Barton Additional Tags: 5 Sentence Fiction, Alternate Universe - Murder Mystery, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Dueling Sherlock Holmes, Sherlock Holmes References, BBC Sherlock References, References to Clue | Cluedo, Established Relationship, Friendship, Humor Language: English Series: Part 25 of 5 Sentence Prompts Published: 2024-07-17 Words:451 Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

Two of the sharpest detectives are on the job, working through the clues to solve the latest murder. Tony and Stephen are rarely ever bested…when the game is afoot.

Notes:

From AUgust 100 AU Prompts.

@scottxlogan #57 Murder Mystery AU (Scottxlogan; No chosen pair)

Title from The Sign of the Four, ch. 8 (1890), Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

[themagnusbane]

Murder at the New York Institute

Title: Murder at the New York Institute

Artist: @la-muerta

Rating: Mature (Chapter 7 only. Will give a heads-up)

Pairings: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood, Clary Fray/Isabelle Lightwood, Jace Herondale/Simon Lewis

Word Count: ~27k

Summary: Pull out the Cluedo board they said. It would be fun to play they said. Nothing could possibly happen on Samhain they said. And now, Magnus and Alec, Clary and Izzy, Simon and Jace have been pulled into an alternate New York Institute, with no powers, no idea what has caused it, or who has brought them there. Oh. And there’s been a murder. Except, can you kill a dead man twice? And can Valentine Morgenstern just SHUT THE FUCK UP!

Author's Note: This fic was inspired by the brilliant art, created by the talented @la-muerta. Together with the prompt they shared, it set the plot bunnies running, and led to this almost 30k words, first multi-chaptered fic I've written in 8 years. Which is INSANE!!! But I'm so happy.

Here is the fic's art.

Please show my artist all the love!!!! :D.

If like me, you find it a bit more inconvenient, reading long fics on Tumblr, I'm posting this on AO3, with one chapter dropping every day, until I'm all done.

AO3: Link to the FIC

This fic was created for the Shadowhunters Reverse Bang 2024: Presented by the @malecdiscordserver

Prologue: Simon Lewis

Chapter One: Miss Lightwood

Chapter Two: Doctor Bane

Chapter Three: Mister Lewis

Chapter Four: Reverend Lightwood

Chapter Five: Miss Fray

Chapter Six: Colonel Herondale

Chapter Seven: Malec|Jimon|Clizzy

Epilogue: Simon Lewis

[osirian-rises]

Secret Santa!

This was my secret Santa for @non-cannon your prompt was Fabina, sibuna crew being friends, season 1-2. I didn't realize everyone was going so heavy on the Christmas Aspect this year so I hope mine isn't that disappointing, I did not go full Christmas.

Anubis house was quiet. Victor was gone for the night, Trudy dropping the pin with little giggles at sharply ten. But the students of Anubis were not asleep. Slowly, Nina opened the door to the living room, creeping inside and flicking on the light. She startled as the light to the dining area flicked on as well, Jerome standing by the other door.

“Jerome?” Patricia said as the four other members of Sibuna followed her into the living room. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same question.” Jerome said, hiding the bag he’d been holding as he nonchalantly sat at the dining table, trying to play cool and keep their attention away from his stashed bag. “Nina. Fabian. Sneaking around after hours with your little gang again?”

“Uhm, excuse me, we are not a gang.” Amber snapped. “And I started the group, not them!”

Jerome raised his eyebrows. “What are you looking for now?” He asked with a grin. “More soot for an art project? Stargazing?”

“Jerome, could you maybe, like, go to your room?” Fabian requested, channeling his inner Patricia. 

Jerome looked over at them and rolled his eyes as he stood. “Ah yes. How silly of me to forget, I need a personal invitation to sit at the dining table. I'll leave you to your…whatever.” He said dismissively as he left, peeking back in and grabbing the bag once they’d turned to face the television. He had new plans for his pranks tonight. Shame Alfie was going to be one of his victims, but it was his choice to constantly hang out with the Scooby Gang and not Jerome.

“I’m so excited!” Amber whisper squealed once the group was sure Jerome was gone. She set down her bag, Alfie doing the same. Alfie started to pull sodas and snacks out of his, the two laying them out on the coffee table. Nina and Patricia looked over the small game cabinet, arguing over which board games to pull out.

“Cluedo?” Nina snickered. “Seriously?”

“What?” Patricia asked.

“It’s Clue.” Nina enunciated. “Why is it called Cluedo?”

“Uh, the boardgame was released in the UK as Cluedo.” Patricia argued. “You Americans are the ones changing the name, not us.”

“Draughts?” Nina continued. “No-Checkers! Checkers. And why are there so many pieces?”

“You know, the Egyptians called Draughts Alquerque.” Fabian commented offhandedly as he spread their blankets and pillows out over the couch and onto the floor.

“Nina, I’m sure you think your American ways should be world practised, but you’re in our country.” Alfie reminded. “So what game are we playing first? Ooh-seven minutes in hea-”

“No!” Amber and Patricia whisper yelled.

“Alfie we are playing the games I’ve decided on.” Amber reminded sternly. “Which is Charades and two truths and a lie.”

“What about Truth or Dare?” Patricia asked as she and Nina laid out the boardgames. “If you’re forcing me to sit and watch some girly movie we have to play something fun.”

“It is only fair Amber.” Nina reminded. “You planned everything else.” Amber sighed and gave a reluctant nod as she tossed her hair. “Alright then! Charades first? Alfie, hat?”

“Right here!” Alfie brandished a blue baseball cap, dumping in a ziploc baggie full of little strips of paper. “I had Joy look up a bunch of different prompts.”

“You first Alfie.” Patricia offered him up. Alfie shrugged and fished out a little paper. He stood, and started jogging in place.

“Jogging?” Nina asked incredulously. “Marathon? Race?”

“Uh-” Alfie changed up his gait and started kicking his legs while in the air.

“A horse running?” Amber attempted.

Alfie held out his arms and mimed turning.

“If that’s supposed to be skiing, you’re really bad at charades.” Patricia snarked, just as the time ran out.

“No!” Alfie complained, slightly butthurt. “It was riding a bicycle.”

“...Have you ever ridden a bicycle?” Patricia deadpanned.

“You next then Trixie.” Alfie slumped on the couch, crossing his arms.

Patricia glanced at the slip she’d pulled out, then tossed it aside and mimed an old film projector.

“Okay, it’s a movie.” Fabian assumed, Patricia nodding. She paused in thought for a long while, then laid down on the floor and pretended to die. “A movie about a dead person?” Fabian questioned. “Uhm…Ghost Whisperer?”

Patricia nodded, but shook her head at the guess and stood back up. She grabbed a blanket off the couch and sat down on a chair, looking haunted.

“You look like a grandma.” Amber commented. Patricia shot her a dirty look but tossed the blanket aside. She pointed to her eyes, her ear, her nose, her mouth, then moved over to the group and poked Alfie.

“...Eyes and mouth?” Alfie said slowly.

“Senses?” Nina guessed. Patricia nodded, then held up six fingers. “Oh! The Sixth Sense!”

“Yes, finally!” Patricia complained. “What kind of prompts did you ask Joy for, that was impossible compared to cycling.”

“I guess that’s my turn then.” Nina assumed as she stood up and grabbed a paper. She began to laugh hysterically.

“What, what is it?” Amber demanded.

“That’s not how you play!” Patricia said as she flipped the timer. “Go Nina.”

Nina stifled her giggles, taking a deep breath. She pointed at herself.

“You?” Amber said. “The prompt was Nina?” Nina shook her head. She grinned brightly, and mimed a wave.

“Meeting someone?” Alfie said slowly. Nina moved forward and grabbed Patricia and pulled her up.

“Hey! You cannot use human props!” Patricia complained. Nina pointed at Patricia and mimed a grouchy face, then pointed at herself with a smile and mimed waving.

“You and Patricia meeting?” Fabian attempted. Nina nodded, and mimed waving again to him. “Is it that?” She mimed waving again, and pointed at Patricia, feigning upset again.

“Patricia was unhappy to meet you, but you were happy.” Amber said slowly. “Nina, I’m really not getting this prompt. Is that it or not?”

Nina looked at the group expectantly.

“Because you kept saying the same thing.” Patricia realized, Nina nodding rapidly. “Hi, I’m Nina, I’m from America.”

“Yes!” Nina laughed, showing the group her paper. Her prompt was America. “What even are the odds of that? I think Joy was thinking about me.”

“My turn!” Amber squealed, grabbing a paper. She grimaced as she read it and tossed it aside, grabbing a new one.

“Amber, you can’t just throw out your prompt!” Nina protested.

“No way am I acting like an elephant.” Amber said firmly.

Fabian sighed. “And now she can’t act out that prompt.”

Amber stood up and posed.

“Model?” Alfie guessed. Amber posed again.

“Amber, you have to do a bit more than that.” Patricia reminded. Amber scoffed, and posed again, waving prettily.

“...Model.” Alfie repeated.

“No!” Amber snapped.

“No talking!” Everyone said in unison.

Amber glared at them, but continued waving and started to walk with a fancy stride.

“Pageant contestant?” Nina attempted. Amber mimed putting something on her head. “Pageant Queen?” Amber started wildly pointing at Nina. “Okay, okay, close!” Nina understood. “It’s a Queen?”

“Victoria. Elizabeth the first.” Fabian started to rattle off. “Mary. Anne of Cleves, Anne Boleyn? Catherine. Lady Jane?” Amber shook her head to all of them, huffing and stomping her feet. She, just like Patricia had, mimed dying. “Amber all the Queens I mentioned are dead!” Fabian yelled.

“Time.” Patricia said boredly.

“It was Diana!” Amber said bluntly. “How could you not get that?!”

“Diana was a Princess.” Alfie blinked.

“I’m American, and even I knew that.” Nina nodded. “...Nice try, Amber.”

“Whatever. Your turn Fabian.” Amber huffed.

Fabian grabbed his slip, then mimed opening a book.

“An old book like Victor, or a new book?” Patricia clarified. Fabian held up one finger to signify the book was older. He put a hand to his chest and held the other out awkwardly, like he was holding something.

“A Shakespeare?” Nina assumed. He nodded, then slowly mimed sleeping. “Midsummer Night’s Dream!”

“It’s embarrassing we got that right before bicycle.” Patricia said flatly.

“I did the best I could!” Alfie whined. “I don’t want to play this anymore, new game.”

“Two truths and a lie!” Amber clapped excitedly. “Patricia, you first.”

“Uhm-” Patricia thought. “Okay, okay. I was born in Berlin, I have the same middle name as my sister, and I had a dog when I was little.”

“The middle name, surely.” Amber guessed, the same time as Alfie’s answer of Berlin. Nina agreed with Alife, Fabian with Amber after a long pause to think.

“Nope. The dog. Piper’s allergic.” Patricia explained. “My mom went into labour three weeks earlier than expected, while on holiday. Had to go through all this paperwork to make us proper citizens.”

“Sharing a middle name with your sister?” Fabian said in disbelief. “Was it a family name?”

“Marie.” Patricia fake gagged. “Apparently it’s after my great grandmother or something. At least Patricia Marie is slightly better than Patricia Maria…Alfie, your turn.” Alfie hummed in thought.

“I’m allergic to dogs, I’ve eaten a bug before, and I was in a commercial when I was little.” Alfie said, keeping his tone neutral. Amber shuddered at the bug mention.

“The commercial.” Fabian said immediately, everyone unanimously agreeing. “We all saw your…attempts to get into a magazine.”

“Hey, I’m offended.” Alfie fake pouted. “It was bugs! I’ve never eaten a bug, gross!”

“Wait, what commercial?” Nina asked.

“One for my dad’s law firm. He was trying to go for a more familial message.” Alfie recollected. “And then they never put me in front of a camera again.”

“...What, what do you mean you’re allergic to dogs?” Patricia demanded as she realized the other fact he’d used. “You swore on your childhood dog’s life!”

“Hey, Sprucket was my invisible dog.” Alfie laughed. Patricia smacked him. “Fabian, you’re up.”

“Uh, I’ve bowled a perfect three hundred before, I was supposed to be a girl, and I can hold my breath underwater for two minutes.” Fabian stated. Everyone was stumped by these, all coming up with different answers.

“Bowling!” Nina finally decided. “Remember, when I said we were looking for the nearest bowling alley, and Victor said that you couldn’t bowl for anything? And you aren’t…the greatest at sports.”

“Hey, he never said that, he just said you were awful at lying.” Fabian protested. “But yeah, it was the bowling.” He admitted with embarrassment. “I was apparently horrible to identify when my mom was pregnant. So they all thought I’d be a girl until I was born.”

“What was your name going to be?” Amber asked, tilting her head. “I could not picture you as a girl.”

“Something long that ends with an A.” Fabian shrugged disinterestedly. “I don’t remember. Amber, your turn.”

“I’ve eaten pufferfish, I’ve been to Thailand, and I can ballroom dance.” Amber said immediately.

“Pufferfish.” Alfie decided, everyone agreeing with him.

“We all remember that your dad had you signed up for extra gym classes the year we did the ballroom unit.” Patricia added. Amber nodded at that, but shook her head.

“We aren’t going to Thailand until next year.” She said proudly. Nina rolled her eyes fondly. Everyone turned to look at Nina.

“I feel like this is a very pointless round.” She laughed. “Okay, okay. Uhm…Uh, I had guinea pigs when I was younger, my favourite animal is a monarch butterfly and I…can…speak…Turkish.”

“Okay, so, the last one was the lie.” Patricia said flatly, everyone nodding in agreement. Nina deflated.

“Nice effort Neens.” Amber patted her shoulder. “Alright…One last game before we start the movie. We’ll do truth or dare afterwards.”

“Trivia?” Fabian immediately asked.

“This is supposed to be fun, Fabian.” Alfie reminded. Fabian and Nina sighed good-naturedly. Amber reached into her bag and pulled out a brand new ouija board.

“No.” Nina said immediately.

“Aw yes!” Patricia said at the same time.

“Why would we play with an ouija board when we know ghosts are real?” Fabian asked. “This is just asking for trouble.”

“Fabian, it says it’s for kids eight and up. We’ll manage.” Amber said sassily. “An ouija board is a sleepover staple! We have to play, it’s like, tradition.”

“Don’t be a chicken.” Patricia egged them on as Amber set out the planchette.

“Guys, this is supposed to be a relaxing night.” Nina reminded. “We literally just had an issue with a malevolent spirit.”

“...What are the odds of it happening twice.” Alfie said slowly, breaking out into a grin. Amber and Patricia laughed. “Come on you two, its us against you. We’re playing.” Fabian and Nina reluctantly put their hands on the planchette.

Amber closed her eyes. “Spirits of Anubis house, we open the door for you to speak with us now. Is there anybody there?”

There was a long, long pause.

“I knew it. These are fake.” Fabian said, and that’s when the planchette moved. Everyone screamed, Patricia’s turning into a laugh. “Patricia!”

“You should have seen your face!” She snickered.

“This is serious Patricia, stop it.” Amber scolded as the planchette moved again.

“This isn’t me, it’s someone else!” Patricia defended, everyone else proclaiming their innocence.

“It’s the ghost!” Amber said. “We reached a spirit!”

“This is a children’s toy for kids eight and up!” Fabian yelled hysterically. “Which one of you is moving it?”

He took his hand off, Amber doing the same to gesture as the board as she yelled, “And it’s working, see?”

“Take your hands off.” Nina said with a disturbed air, pulling her hand away. Patricia and Alfie did the same. “...It’s still moving.”

“Do you think the Pope is awake at this hour?” Alfie hummed as he pulled out his phone. Patricia pushed it down.

“Let’s not get hysterical.” She said, staring at the board. “What’s it saying anyways? Amber, make it start over.”

“Spirit, please relay your message again.” Amber spoke loudly. Fabian rolled his eye at her dramatics but watched in silence as the planchet began to move again. “A. W. O. K. E. N.” Amber read as the planchette stopped at each letter.

Nina facepalmed as Alfie held up his phone again, muttering, “What’s the Pope’s number?” Patricia confiscated his phone and put it in her pocket.

“Is it getting colder in here?” Nina shivers. “It feels like the temperature dropped at least ten degrees.

“It’s moving again!” Amber shushed, continuing to read out the letters. “B. E. T. R. A. Y. E. D.”

“Look-” Patricia pointed towards the kitchen. “Is that smoke?”

“A. N. G. R. Y.”

“Stop narrating for the ghost and shut the board off!” Alfie yelled.

“That is not how an ouija board works!” Amber corrected. “You have to say goodbye!”

“Goodbye!” Alfie screeched at the board.

“Alfie I’m the medium-” She was cut off as the doors to the living room slammed shut, everyone screaming. The lights in the room began to flicker as the temperature continued to plummet, fog still filling up the living room.

“Playing seven minutes in heaven doesn’t seem like a dumb idea now, does it?” Alfie complained. “But no, that’s a dumb game, and now we’re gonna die!”

A loud thumping came from above their heads, just as something started banging on the windows from outside. The banging on the windows stopped with the thumping, and after a long moment of silence, the doors flung back open. Everyone raced to be the first out the door, Fabian reaching it first with Amber just behind him, running right into saran wrap that had been pulled over the door to cover it. He fell to the ground, everyone falling on top of him.

“I think I broke a nail.” Amber complained as a camera flashed, familiar, raucous laughter filling the room. Everyone looked up at Jerome, utterly fuming.

“I think I may actually kill you, you annoying-” Patricia said as she pushed her self up and helped up Alfie. Amber and Nina were able to get up next, helping Fabian stand as Jerome took another picture of them.

“How did you even do that?” Nina asked in complete shock. “There’s two doors to the living room, and the fog-”

“I have a smoke machine.” Jerome said plainly. “As for the other door-” He turned and waited expectantly.

Eddie grinned as he stepped into the hall from his hiding place in his room. “He may have recruited me to slam that one. Also, I was the one down in the cellar messing with the thermostat and the lights, while he was banging on the windows. Have fun hanging out without me, Yacker?” Jerome smirked.

“But-the-the banging, from upstairs-” Amber started, the door to the girl’s hall on the second floor opening as Mara and Joy stepped out, looking down at them unimpressed.

“Having another secret party and forgot to invite us?” Joy asked. Patricia gaped at them.

“Jerome, where did you even get a smoke machine?!” Fabian demanded. “Why would you just have that?”

“I can get anything.” Jerome said. “And I have everything. For any needed purpose. Even a boating license.”

“You can’t swim.” Patricia said incredulously.

“I also own a life jacket.” Jerome retorted quickly. “And now, I own the pictures of your terrified faces.” He smiled fondly. “I might print them out and frame them.”

“You’re ridiculous. Come on Amber.” Nina grabbed Amber’s arm. “Lets head up to bed.”

“Sleep with one eye open slimeball.” Patricia threatened as she made to follow them, pointing at Eddie as she started going up. “You too, weasel!” Eddie waved goodbye to her as Fabian tiredly trudged into their room.

“Aw, you’ll be able to confess your love to Nina some other time!” He teased as he followed him in. “Seriously, an Amber approved love movie confession is not the worst thing to miss out on.

“I was not going to confess my love to her-” Fabian said miserably. “I was just going to…tell her I was into her.”

“Charming.” Eddie patted him on the back.

Alfie nodded slowly as he surveyed the once more quiet house. “I would only be more impressed if I was in on that.” He admitted as he and Jerome walked back to their room. “How the heck did you make the ouija board move?”

“What Ouija board?”

[omelette-archives]

OMELETTE LORE ACCOUNTS

Question: Do you think Luigi freezes a rectangular block of water and when it's frozen, he chops it up into ice cubes?

Answer: Yes and he would purposefully do it whenever there were other people over and would maintain prolonged heavy eye contact whilst doing it.

(I honestly thought you were gonna say he puts the entire rectangle into a water bottle and whoever drinks from the bottle has a 80% chance of being stabbed in the throat by a block of ice)

Question: Do you think Tomathy at some point tried to do a found footage type horror film and forced his roommates to help make it and it was so bad it was (un)ironically enjoyable?

Answer: Yes and even after the film's finished, Jerard would assume it was still being filmed so whenever he saw Luigi just doing some Weird Shit™, he'd just chalk it up to the film.

Question: Do you think it's Eustace who brings the yolks over to eat at random restaurants and in the middle of them eating, Eustace just casually says that this is the restaurant his parents died at or something that's factually wrong but sounds true and the yolks won't question it anyways?

Answer: Eustace whilst cutting into a steak "did you know that this place was closed down for a month because both of my parents were brutally stabbed and murdered here by one of the kitchen staff?"

Question: Do you think it's funny that Andrew and Eustace met through a mutual class? Ever wonder what they were like together, what class it was, and if them being friends was even intentional? Like was there a seating plan, was it a forced group project?

(Man it's wild how they stayed in contact after school. The wonder of friendship [and (d)rugs])

Answer: Yeah but also I just know Andrew would've tried to scam Eustace. It was probably English. I think they did get along to some extent like less 'we're friends' but not 'we're just classmates' vibe.

Question: What are the yolks' opinion on pavlova?

Answer: Jerard - neutral. Luigi - strong hate. Tomathy - doesn't mind it but wouldn't be eating it as a first choice. Eustace - likes small amounts but if it's a big pavlova, he'd rather not eat it.

PROMPT: Yolk spa and relaxation day.

Answer: Luigi would obviously be wearing the cucumber face mask and lying face up but also eating just a raw cucumber.

Eustace would probably go straight to the massage as well as Jerard but for different reasons. Eustace to find out what it feels like and Jerard for obvious reasons due to his back.

Tomathy would probably try out all the baths including the weird green-looking water in the very corner. He'd first try the cold baths and then when he finds a really toasty one, he'd accidentally end up taking a nap to which Eustace would find him and splash water at his face. Very hard.

Question: How would the yolks cheat in games? [ORIGINAL QUESTION REDACTED DUE TO DETERIORATION REASONS]

Answer: Contrary to popular belief, Eustace would cheat at card games just because he is that bad. It's honestly a 50/50 chance where he either wins or he spectacularly loses and he's lost $2 to his name.

Tomathy would probably cheat at Cluedo since he doesn't have a single braincell and he just peeks at the paper card where it says the murderer. Because he's been caught trying to cheat, they've just stopped playing Cluedo to Tomathy's relief.

Jerard would probably cheat at Scrabble or that game where you have to press the button and inside it has a dice where you have to finish at the center in order to win. He'd make up new words.

Luigi is a god at all board games. However, he will always lose in videogames with his screentime reaching into the hundreds.

Question: How would the yolks survive/manage in a horror movie? [ORIGINAL QUESTION HAS BEEN UNABLE TO BE RECOVERED SUCCESSFULLY]

Answer: I know Luigi's immortal but I feel like he'd die first. Not 'cause of stupidity but 'cause he just wasn't afraid of the killer and stood there until they killed him.

The rest would stick together until Eustace would accidentally get lost or separate from the group but he'd find shelter. That being said, he'd probably see the killer in the window and try to run away to no success.

Tomathy would get mad at Jerard and storm off stupidly. He'd try to find Eustace but in the woods, he sees a shadow/dark figure in front of him with the moonlight shining on them and he'd run but he'd accidentally go to a dead-end to which he dies.

Jerard is surprisingly the "final girl" and obviously confronts the killer to which he loses 'cause he's not that athletic and he slowly dies from losing too much blood.

Bonus: Dave is just Eustace but whereas Eustace would've blamed himself for his parents' death, Dave would've hated the world.

Eustace: I made them go out it's all my fault

Dave: the people driving the other car are at fault. The people who made cars are at fault. The people who called the ambulances were too slow and at fault. The emergency responders were at fault. The government was at fault. God was at fault. The earth was at fault. Everyone was a-

[deadtwinksdetectiveagency]

🍄🧸🍬🦴🦷

Thank you dear!!!

🍄 ⇢ share a head canon for one of your favourite ships or pairings

Edwin and Charles don't actually play Cluedo very often. Charles, with his ADHD and dyslexia, has a bitch of a time keeping track of revealed clues without Edwin's prompting, and Edwin finds the game simple at best.

The bulk of their collection came from a longtime client (a magician) who shared a love for mysteries but lost manual dexterity as they aged—ergo, they gave their Cluedo collection to the Agency. At first, it was one edition at a time, then shortly before the client's death, he gave them the rest.

It's possible that as the Agency grows, Cluedo will come out more often. After all, the more players, the more interesting the game...

Yes, some of the editions are enchanted, what of it?

🧸 ⇢ what's the fastest way to become your mutual?

Interact with me (nicely, excitedly) via tags, comments, ask box

Have some kind of tagging system so I can blacklist tags I don't want to see

Write and post your work on AO3 and include a link to your Tumblr where I can find it so I can follow you everywhere

🍬 ⇢ post an unpopular opinion about a popular fandom character

Oof, honestly I don't have many unpopular opinions re: DBD.... at least when compared to, say, Tolkien haha. Let's see, here are some thoughts that I've either seen contradicted or rarely/never mentioned:

I liked Crystal right away

The Cat King is 10000% a predator (literally and figuratively)—and he's also a delightful character

If literally any of the mains were normal at all, they would have found Monty insanely suspicious. (Like... why the fuck was he outside the T&T at the ass-crack of dawn?!?! You're supposed to be a teenager! SLEEP IN.) To be clear, I love Monty!!! But his behavior/habits are extremely unusual, and I think it's quite telling that none of the core four pick up on that. And again—I love Monty, and I think his demeanor is one of the most winning on the show.

🦴 ⇢ is there a piece of media that inspires your writing? 

I mean, right now, Dead Boy Detectives lol!

Generally, there's nothing specific beyond the canon I happen to be writing for. I'm more inspired by my own experiences/interests/tastes than other media. I will sometimes have ideas that are clearly inspired by moments in media (there's a future plot point in my fic A Familiar Story that is inspired by something from The Owl House, for example), but I don't tend to think of inspiration in that way.

🦷 ⇢ share some personal wisdom or a life hack you swear on

Roasting = 500°F and NO LESS

Do cognitive tests as an adult on a semi-regular basis so you know if/how/when something changes.

Find offline hobbies. I recommend swing dancing!

Ask A Manager is a GODSEND—highly recommended for any kind of job/school-related advice!!! Cover letters, interviewing, gut-checks, managing... etc.

Send me interesting asks!

[petvampire]

so of course my brain decided to give me pure crack thoughts first thing in the morning:

CURIOUS POLYCULE CLUEDO PROMPTS. 🤣

I mean, obviously they’re not all gonna be sexy, but this could still be insane and fun! give me a combination of the following:

rooms: hall, study, ballroom, billiards room, dining room, kitchen, lounge, conservatory, library.

weapons: candlestick, wrench, lead pipe, rope, dagger, revolver.

characters: any combination/grouping of Edwin, Charles, the Cat King, Monty, Crystal and Niko

feed my insanity. give me prompts. 🤣

[rottingcheng]

ZhanCheng Day 5: Treacle

Prompt: LZ and JC secret relationship and gets sneaky when they're alone 😌. Suggested by Eruri. ao3 link. Slight NSFW

"What a bunch of loons, am I right?" Jiang Cheng grins. He's slightly breathless from running to the kitchen in order to avoid his family stirring up any more trouble with him and Lan Wangji. Flushed.

Wangji thinks Jiang Cheng's beautiful like this, the way his sharp brows are slightly drawn and a bit of colour lightly dusts his cheeks. The way his shoulders heave and a lock of hair falls from its place tucked behind his ear. The pink of his lips wrapped in a rare toothy smile.

He'd told Wangji last winter, under the cover of darkness and a fluffy blue quilt, that he hated his smile when it showed his teeth – someone had told him it looked weird when he was a child and he never quite forgot it.

It's these tiny shames of the world that Wangji mourns daily. How his lover absorbs every word others say, lets them seep deeper than Wangji can reach with his lips. He wishes Jiang Cheng can see himself through his eyes right now, the pleasure that rings in them with the sight of a handsome happy man with the prettiest smile.

Unable to contain the overwhelming satisfaction with such a sight, Wangji steps forward in the tiny kitchen and captures that perfect smile in his with a warm, candy kiss. Pecking at the man's lips after, Wangji tells him: "What lucky loons, to have spent their lives with you."

Jiang Cheng snorts. He always gets awkward whenever Wangji says something sweet, starts staring at the ceiling and laughing nervously, deflecting it as if he didn't know where to hold sweetness in his hands.

"Hah! We're all laced with misfortune, actually, the lot of us. Just one after the other...ha..."

If only he could know his hands are sweetness themselves. If only he could know his body is sweetness. If only he could know his heart is treacle, and Wangji is drowning in it; the luckiest loon of all, perhaps.

He kisses his lover's lips again. "Shall I put some of my luck in you then, Jiang Cheng?"

Jiang Cheng’s eyes grow wide. His face flushes pink. Oh, he's even prettier like this. Sweet, nervous thing, trembling in Wangji's wanting hands.

"D-don't say dirty things when my family's in the room next door..."

He's averting his eyes again, so Wangji takes the opportunity to slip a hand around his waist and push him against the kitchen counter.

"I meant nothing dirty, A-Cheng. Were you thinking something dirty?"

The way that Adam's apple bobs forces a soft growl from Wangji's throat, and Jiang Cheng seems to shiver with it.

"Don't be a bastard," Jiang Cheng chastises, though Wangji knows the threat carries as much strength as two matchsticks tied together. He gently presses his cheek against Jiang Cheng's, the hands on his waist moving him side to side so they're both swaying from foot to foot; a little dance as he teases more.

"I could get on my knees and suck you right here. Your family are so focused on Cluedo they won't look for us until you've climaxed at least twice."

Wangji had never been the type to talk so dirty. Jiang Cheng brings it out of him somehow, with his rose-tinted skin and sweet stutters, breaking from the usual stern air he tries so hard to carry. It's always so satisfying, seeing Jiang Cheng act so strictly towards his students and knowing how quickly the man crumbles before a few naughty words; before his own desire.

"You're so bad, Lan Wangji. Who taught you such obscenities, huh?"

The question quickly devolves into a cut-off moan when Wangji kisses Jiang Cheng's neck, trailing the kisses up his lifting jaw.

"No one," he breathes into hot-flushed skin. "You simply inspire such obscenities to spring from me, Jiang Cheng. You must be the dirtiest one of all, filling a pure Lan heart with such lust and desire." Jiang Cheng's aborted breaths only spur Wangji on. The moaning of his name coming after makes him go nearly feral.

His hands slide under his lover's thighs and lifts him onto the counter. There's a little wince of surprise and Jiang Cheng's arms are wrapping around Wangji's shoulders for purchase.

"Wangji," he says sternly, still breathless, still turning Wangji on. "We are not fucking in my parents' kitchen right now."

A few more kisses along his lover's jaw and Wangji meets his lips again, brushing their noses against each other.

"How about in thirty minutes?" he asks, and Jiang Cheng slaps him on the shoulder with a toothy grin.

There are footsteps, and Yanli's head pops out from the doorframe. Her eyes scan the two of them, and she smiles a smile very familiar to Wangji, making him feel at home.

"Watcha lovebirds up to?" she says, lilting her words.

Wangji leans his head against Jiang Cheng's.

"Nothing much, jie. Just admiring your didi's lovely smile."

Written for Milk's 30 Days of ZhanCheng! Ao3 Collection.

[malec-ao3feed]

[ART] Art prompt for "Murder at the New York Institute" by themagnusbane

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/89XYeNo by la_muerta Art for Shadowhunters Reverse Bang 2024. Fic Summary: Pull out the Cluedo board they said. It would be fun to play they said. Nothing could possibly happen on Samhain they said. And now, Magnus and Alec, Clary and Izzy, Simon and Jace have been pulled into an alternate New York Institute, with no powers, no idea what has caused it, or who has brought them there. Oh. And there’s been a murder. Except, can you kill a dead man twice? And can Valentine Morgenstern just SHUT THE FUCK UP! (Art is rated T but fic is rated M) Words: 0, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Series: Part 15 of Drawings and Fanvids Fandoms: Shadowhunters (TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: F/F, M/M Characters: Magnus Bane, Alec Lightwood, Isabelle Lightwood, Clary Fray, Jace Wayland, Simon Lewis Relationships: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood, Clary Fray/Isabelle Lightwood, Simon Lewis/Jace Wayland Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, What-If, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Alternate Universe - No Powers read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/89XYeNo

[lisbeth-kk]

May Prompts (16) Experiment

The Luckiest Girl in the World (chapter 16) This chapter will make little sense if you haven't read chapter 15.

Summar: John tells the residents in 221B, Liwia included, what he experienced at work that day. Sherlock can barely keep his hands off John when he tells the tale...

Sixteen Years Old

It was clever of Liwia to turn to us for help the summer her grandparents visited London. After only a couple of days at home, she texted me one late evening that she couldn’t stand another minute in the presence of her prejudice family members. I told her to bring her belongings to school the next day, and that she could come to Baker Street with me that afternoon.

Papa’s reaction when I told him and Dad that Liwia was coming to stay later that day, earned him a stern look and rebuke from Dad.

“A bit not good, Sherlock!”

“What? It is an experiment having an outsider living with us. It’s never happened before. How will the dynamic change? Do we have to provide different kinds of food? Is she allergic? How’s her sleeping patterns? It’s fascinating, John!”

Dad threw his arms in the air and gave up further pestering, while I tried to hide my smile, quite unsuccessful.

***

It all turned out just fine, though. Dad and Papa welcomed Liwia warmly, and I was thankful that they didn’t add fuel to the fire by telling her about their own experiences with bigotry, but instead asked about school, her lacrosse matches, Polish food, travelling and her girlfriend, Bella. Liwia wisely declined the proposal of a game of Cluedo. 

(I must ask her someday if she’s still traumatised after witnessing me and Dad fighting over Scrabble.)

***

When the tables turned, Dad was in the middle of it by just being his wonderful self. He was at work and had said his goodbyes to his last patient for the day when he heard raised voices from the waiting area. A male voice sounded threatening, or maybe accusatory. It worried him that Sarah was alone out there, so he stepped out of his office to investigate.

An elderly man, holding his left arm to his chest with his other arm, was crimson in the face with anger and pain. He was accompanied by a familiar man Dad realised was Liwia’s father. The latter tried to reason with the man, who only could be Liwia’s grandfather, in Polish, but he was brusquely cut off with what sounded like a command. Dad recognised a military man when he saw one, straightened his back and went into battle like the brave man he was.

“What seems to be the problem, Sarah?” Dad inquired and looked sharply at the two men in front of her.

A relieved sigh escaped her, and she breathed his name reverently.

“John, this gentleman…”

Said “gentleman” interrupted angrily.

“No woman. Want real doctor. Man,” the elderly man spat.

It was time to bring in the heavy artillery, Dad thought. 

“Rank?” he commanded.

“Kapral,” the man said instinctively.

“Corporal, I am Captain John H. Watson, also a real doctor. My office. Now!” he ordered, turned on his heel after the other man had saluted him, not without effort due to his injured arm, and marched back to his office with a satisfied smirk on his face.

***

“Get a grip, Papa,” I scoffed after Dad had told us the story.

He all but drooled and I could see his fingers itched to grab on to Dad to snog him senseless. For once, he had the decency to refrain, presumably out of courtesy for our guest.

“You gave Dziadek a lecture in why women are as capable and valuable as men?” Liwia asked incredulously.

“I did,” Dad said matter-of-factly. “Asked him what his mother would’ve thought of his behaviour towards Sarah, linking it to you while I was at it. I took a chance there, but quite a few men of his generation, put their mothers on a pedestal, and they’re also terrified of them, which proved to be correct.”

“You’re a wonder, John,” Papa beamed and couldn’t resist any longer, but gave Dad a searing kiss.

I rolled my eyes, but Liwia just looked dreamily at the two men. She told me later that she was in awe over how freely they showed their love for each other.

***

The next day, we were all in for quite the surprise. Nana called upstairs that we had visitors. Liwia and I were watching Pride and Prejudice, Papa was tidying up the kitchen table after an experiment, and Dad was in the shower.  

When Liwia’s father and grandfather stood in the doorway, she froze, I stopped the film, and Papa emerged from the kitchen to greet our visitors.

“What are you doing here?” Liwia whispered to her father.

“Your Dziadek wants to apologise,” he retorted. “And to meet Rosie and…”

“Dzień dobry,” Papa greeted in Polish and extended his hand to the elderly man.

He looked sceptically up at Papa, who towered over the smaller man. Eventually his good manners won, and he shook Papa’s hand. Papa and Liwia’s father shook hands as well, and that’s when Dad turned up.

“Hello, again,” he said casually, as if it was a frequent occurrence to have his former patients visiting.

“Captain. Doctor,” Liwia’s grandfather stuttered quite bewildered. “Who sick?”

“No one, I hope,” Dad answered and snaked his hand around Papa’s waist. “I live here.”

***

Miracle of miracles; that encounter changed everything, so in the autumn of my sixteenth year, Liwia and I went to Poland with her parents to visit her grandparents. They apparently considered me family now. 

A big party was planned because of our visit, and their flat was filled to the brim with people. In the kitchen, Liwia’s grandmother, her sisters and Liwia’s mother cooked all sorts of Polish delicacies. They were loud and cheerful and constantly made me taste the different sauces, ragus and soups. I just knew a few words in Polish, but it didn’t seem to bother them that I was unable to understand most of what they were telling me.

The entire affair was casual, chaotic, and vibrant. It was the next best party I’d ever been too. Dad and Papa’s wedding topped that list obviously.

***

Our visit to Auschwitz and Birkenau the next day, stood in stark contrast to that joyous day, but that’s life for you. Filled with all sorts of different emotions and experiences.

Also available on AO3

@calaisreno @totallysilvergirl @keirgreeneyes @helloliriels @raina-at

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[ao3feed-drstrange]

The Baker Street Irregulars

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/R5Qr2bw by Wolfsheart Two of the sharpest detectives are on the job, working through the clues to solve the latest murder. Tony and Stephen are rarely ever bested...when the game is afoot. Words: 451, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Series: Part 25 of 5 Sentence Prompts Fandoms: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Doctor Strange (Movies) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: M/M Characters: Tony Stark, Stephen Strange, Sam Wilson (Marvel), Clint Barton Relationships: Tony Stark/Stephen Strange Additional Tags: 5 Sentence Fiction, Alternate Universe - Murder Mystery, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Dueling Sherlock Holmes, Sherlock Holmes References, BBC Sherlock References, References to Clue | Cluedo, Established Relationship, Friendship, Humor read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/R5Qr2bw

[boredgameslh-f]

Incorporating ideas

Following my conversation with Kyrstie, I came to the realization that I could expand my project far beyond my initial thoughts. She opened my eyes to a range of opportunities, prompting me to delve deeper into what I could incorporate. That's when the concept of magic mushrooms, specifically hallucinogenic mushrooms, crossed my mind.

This idea opened up a range of possibilities, such as players landing on these mushrooms and experiencing hallucinations that lead them astray or hinder their visibility on the board. Recognizing the vast potential within my digital 3D workspace, Kyrstie suggested incorporating hallucinations into the game. Intrigued, I questioned how to put this concept into a digital Blender model. Kyrstie's suggestion of creating an animation that flipped the board upon landing on a hallucinogenic mushroom resonated with me. Seeking a second opinion, I turned to Chris for further insights on how to execute this idea.

Chris offered a different perspective that seemed more fitting for an actual board game presentation. During our discussion, he presented a pair of 3D glasses,one with a red lens and the other with a blue lens, sparking my curiosity. Drawing parallels to Cluedo, he shared how certain versions incorporated red magnifying glasses to reveal hidden messages within cards. This sparked an idea: employing red and blue glasses to unveil concealed paths on the board. Some paths might negatively impact gameplay, leading players back to the starting point, while others could have positive effects, enhancing their progress. Chris's suggestion provided a clearer and more concrete direction for presenting the hallucination concept within the context of my board game.