#enigma detective agency: detective au

[question-marked]

@violetsparkk [X]

Edward was curious why this guy wasn’t talking, at first he assumed many things. One that English wasn’t his first language but that was eliminated after he saw the message on the other man’s phone. 

His next hypothesis was that he was mute, since working as a detective he met some people who were either mute or deaf. So due to that he learned sign language in order to communicate with those people.

After looking at the message he signed, “Nothing. You have bruises all over you and I thought you needed a ride to your home or even the hospital. My name is Edward, and I’m a private investigator. I want to help you, can you tell me what happened?”

[question-marked]

Edward hummed and then answered, “I do like that space is this great unknown, and how we’re still discovering things about it. There’s so many puzzles about it that are begging to be solved, and I find that to be intriguing. I’ve always liked mysteries…which is one of the reasons why I’m doing detective work. Also to give back to people, like your dad for example.”

He then smiled, he was grateful how much Bruce helped him since he was released from Arkham. All the help that he received made him feel grateful, and because of that he wanted to return the favor. Also to right the wrongs that he did and make his grandparents proud.

“Don’t worry Damian I won’t tell anyone about your interests, also why is that though? I am a detective after all, that's what I do...ask questions.”

"Father sure did, he's still doing the best he can too as well." Damian acknowledged the detective's words, looking out the window. "Yeah well, don't tell anybody else about what I like and all that. I don't need Father and the others finding out more of my interests."

"Very well then, we shall do that." Damian agreed on going to the science museum and then the planetarium for the next two weeks. "I'd be sure to lend you my phone number later, good call. It's always good to have an ally's number in case something goes wrong."

"What's your favorite thing about astronomy?"

[question-marked]

Kat came up from behind her fingers going over his beard. "I love what you did.."

Edward blushed as Kat felt his beard. "I'm glad that ya like it, I was thinking why the hell not grow a beard? I'm glad I did though, because I look really handsome with one..."

[question-marked]

I commissioned @spizzaza to draw art of my version of Eddie after a workout, and I love how he looks in this!

[question-marked]

"I'm cooking pasta for dinner tonight! There's so many options so I have to decide on what specific pasta dish I will cook eventually..."

[question-marked]

"Maybe the Caesar cipher could work on this, as you know it's one of the earliest encryption techniques."

Edward then looked at the letters in more detail, and after looking at them he got a piece of paper and started to write the letters down.

"Okay Bruce, I think I'm getting something. I think one of the words that I translated is a beginning of a street name, but I'm not sure. Maybe this translated will show us what street and maybe even home this person is operating out of...the first four letters I decoded says West. Maybe this is talking about Westinghouse Street?"

Bruce frowned slightly, looking at the screen. "Could it be an anagram?" He seems a bit surprised at how encrypted it really was. "Geez, that's a lot of letters for this...if it could be an anagram, this is a bit...extreme." He hopes they can work on finding it out together. "Let's see...which cipher do you usually use when it comes to anagrams?"

[anonymous-dentist]

AU where:

Roier is the Federation’s newest agent, recently drafted out of Quesadilla Island’s police academy. He’s young and inexperienced and kinda super new to being a government agent.

He’s also the guy sent downstairs to work with the Federation’s least favorite employee, former genius and current crackpot conspiracy theorist Cellbit, who has spent the past six months of his employment holed up in the basement looking into things the Federation just really doesn’t need to be bothering with.

See, Cellbit believes in aliens. And the supernatural. And the existence of shady government agencies working from the shadows. He believes in them to much that he quit his old job working as a detective and joined forces with the Federation so he could prove the existence of the unexplained, so-called ‘enigmas’. Or, as the Federation labels them, ‘X-Files’.

But, recently, he’s kinda stopped going on missions. Instead, he’s been in his office, and he won’t leave his office.

But, well. Now he has Roier, doesn’t he? A plucky younger agent ready to go on his first field missions, what else could a crazy researcher ask for? So what if they’re going out investigating the impossible? It’s getting Cellbit out of the office, isn’t it?

(And perhaps Roier isn’t as inexperienced as he seems. Maybe he’s actually a psychologist brought in undercover and finding his morals very compromised because… well. Cellbit is very nice to look at. And he isn’t even crazy, he’s just sad and lonely, and if that makes someone insane, then Roier needs to be investigating himself, too.)

Or: the q!Cellbit Federation Arc/Project Bluebird X-Files au I’ll never end up writing

[question-marked]

I'm not sure if Eddie in his detective verse is over sentimental or not, but he did survived being tortured and in addition he's dealt with so much in his life before that occurred, so because of that and the therapy he's going to be more emotional and in touch with his emotions than he was before.

[question-marked]

He looked at Batman with wide eyes and both his eyebrows raised, Edward was honestly surprised that he knew what he was dealing with. That made him feel so relieved, since before he thought that most people didn’t understand the pain he had to suffer with for so long.

“You knew all of that? That’s…very reassuring, honestly. It’s interesting to me that someone who I used to hate with a passion is the one that understands me the most. Thinking about it, that does make a lot of sense. The times where we had to work together back then…we were a great team, we worked together really well.”

“I was so hurt and angry that I didn’t realize that until now, but I am glad that I did. Honestly Batman, you're the best person I've ever worked with in my life."

Batman turned and listened to Edward as he confessed his reasons for projecting his anger on Batman. Of course, Bruce knew all of this thanks to his Arkham records and his own investigations, given his expertise in psychology.

"Edward..." He spoke in a calm manner. "I know. I read your file and saw your history and I understood your pain. Being told you were wrong when you are right, a need to prove the world right. And then when you are the smartest man out there and someone comes along and challenges you, that would trigger some childhood trauma. That's why I played your games. Helped you in Arkham. As much as they were to feed your ego, it was also a way to ask for someone to understand you."

[fancyfeathers]

Society of Protection (Yandere Bungo Stray Dogs x reader x original characters) (normalized yandere au)

Chapter Nine

A Loving Father

Prologue and oc intro

Chapter one

Chapter two

Chapter three

Chapter four

Chapter five

Chapter six

Chapter seven, part one

Chapter seven, part two

Chapter eight

Due Henrik’s ability it sent the Guild spiraling, dozens of men in the hospital from being tosses around like a rag doll. Margaret Mitchell was knocked unconscious for days, Nathaniel had to set stitches on the back of his head and was full of fire when he heard of Emma’s escape to the point where he left the Guild. But no one was raging like Fitzgerald in the Society’s escape, to the point where he called for the emergency plan, but you in the underground hideout of the Armed Detective Agency had no idea of the chaos that was happening. All you currently knew from Agency’s and the Society’s conversations in their new found alliance was that someone named Atsushi was captured by the Guild and that Dazai was in a car accident with his government agent friend.

You were sitting alone in the agency’s hide out, reading a book Gaston had given you when you felt someone sit down next to you, you turned and saw president Fukuzawa sitting down next to you. When you went to go look at him he asked you a simple question. “Why did you join the society?”

“Huh? Why do you ask, sir?” You said, cocking your head to the side, curious to his question. His eyes doted from you, then back to looking straight ahead, and you could swear you could see the slightest bit of pink forming on his cheeks.

“You are an enigma to your society, not like the rest. Everyone else alright knew each other prior to joining, have a large amount of wealth to their names, abilities. You on the other hand barely knew three members prior to joining, have near to no money, and no ability to speak of… you’re hard to place.”  He spoke with no emotion in his voice, it was just facts, plain and simple. “Not even Ranpo can place the reason behind you joining. So why did you?”

“Sir, I have no family to speak of, my friends all gone, I’m all alone in this world. Well I was until I met Gaston, then Miss Jane, then Victor, and the rest of the society. They were the first time I haven’t felt alone in a long time, I finally had a place where I fit in for once, a new found family.” You said with a smile, thinking about the last few weeks you have spent in this society, they were like your family now. “I’d also do not want to live in a world where I live in fear of tomorrow, nor a world where I’m told to sit down, shut up, and do as I’m told like some pet. I just want to be free, free to live, free to dream.”

“I see…” his head turned to look down at you once more and now you felt a bit of unease as his gaze fell on you. “Not everyone would treat you like that, like a pet that is. What if someone wanted to protect you, keep you safe from the dangers of this world, someon-

When you felt his hand to drift down and touched yours as he spoke, you quickly stood up, leaving him in a slightly shocked state. “Sir, respectfully, a golden cage is still a cage.”

Before he could respond the doors to the hall opened and Kunikida and Victor rushed inside, both men clearly out of breath. Everyone in the hall looked at them, Victor had clearly taken beating, his face and arms were all bruised and cut up, you could imagine that his legs were much the same. Kunikida supported the Frenchman, Victor’s arm over his shoulder so he could support his weight. Fukuzawa also stood up to look at them, worry apparent on his face “What is going on?”

“Streets have turned to madne- motherfucker!” Victor started as Kunikida helped him onto a bench, his hand slightly grazing against one of the wounds on Victor’s arm. Miss Jane ran to Victor’s side, worry in her face. He gasped for breath, his lungs burning before continuing on. “It’s that kid’s ability, Q. I think the Guild has him.”

Panic came across almost everyone’s face’s except for Gaston. He was sitting in the front of the hall, he didn’t even get up or turn around when the door open but now he spoke up. “Don’t rush out there, you’ll only get yourselves killed. My guess, and I’m rarely wrong, is that your tiger kid is going to escape from the Guild by some force on the inside with Q’s doll. The Guild will chase him down but that Dazai of yours is gonna come to his rescue at the last moment and neutralize the doll.”

“But Dazai was-“

“In a car accident? All apart of his plan.” Gaston said, cutting off the red head, Junichiro. “Once he gets back, we’ll need to think of ways to get Q back and stop this from happening again because otherwise this will keep on happening with no consequences to the Guild until Yokohama is destroyed. I don’t know about the agency but I think an alliance with the Port Mafia would be the best route of action.”

There was a dead silence in the room and all eyes were on the composer and he only said…

“I’m not joking.”

—————————

Turns out Gaston’s predictions were right on the money. Soon the city calmed from the fit of madness it was sent into earlier and both Miss Jane and Fukuzawa deemed it safe to leave the hideout. You all in the Society couldn’t return to the apartment complex yet, due to it being under Guild surveillance but luckily in your new found alliance the agency allowed you to set up in their building for the time being. Atsushi and Dazai had returned and soon the planning for the meeting with the Port Mafia was underway, like Fukuzawa Miss Jane wasn’t going to bring all her members, only a select few that may help in a pinch, Gaston, Dr. Stevenson, and…

“Me?” You asked as Miss Jane stood next to you as you walked down the hallway back up to the agency from a brief walk you took with her this morning. “Why me?”

“Because, you are the only member of our organization who knows the Port Mafia.” She said, her never ceasing smile on her face. “And well I trust you.”

“I know ma’am, but trust me with your life?” 

She only smiles and nodded. “I would trust you with much more than that if you would allow me.”

—————————

So now you waited in a garden along with your coworkers and members of the agency. While everyone had their abilities to defend themselves with, you were armed with only a hand gun, a month ago you couldn’t imagine yourself even touching one but now it was just a normal part of life. Gaston sat down by Dazai and it seemed like those two were in a conversation of sorts while everyone else was mostly waiting in silence or talking in hushed tones. So you went out and sat down next to Gaston, him acting as a wall between you and Dazai who you weren’t the most fond of. Dazai flashed you a smile, but you simply looked away, just because you were allies did not mean you had to like him.

“You wound me, Belladonna. So cold.” Dazai speaks in an over dramatic tone, hand on his forehead like he’s about to faint.

“I have a gun in my pocket if you want me to actually wound you.” You snapped back, not in the mood for jokes from him but he only turned to you with a little bit of a wicked grin.

“Sure- ow!” Dazai was quickly shut up with a smack upside the head by Gaston.  “What was that for?!”

“Please do not flirt with my coworker via means of harming yourself.“ Gaston pushed up his glasses on his nose, not even looking at Dazai. “Besides it seems our friends have arrived.”

Both you and Dazai turned to see where Gaston was looking and on the path leading here there where four individuals, all who you saw earlier, all members of the Port Mafia, including the doctor who you know as the leader. Dazai smiled and looked over to them, to the doctor. “Welcome, boss.”

“It’s been four years.” The doctor spoke with a smile, like nothing was wrong. He was dressed differently as well, a nice suit, hair tied back, black jacket, and a red scarf. “Do you happen to remember the coat that I gave you, Dazai?”

“Of course!” Dazai spoke in a happy melodic tone as he jumped off from the short stone wall you three sat on. Then his demeanor changed to a tone of more serious, darker personality. “I had it burned.”

The doctor’s gaze drifted to you for a long moment, his eyes studying you, almost uncomfortably so. But before he could say something, another voice spoke up, to your rescue it was Fukuzawa. “Ougai Mori, boss of the Port Mafia.”

You turned to see Everyone else stepping out from where they were hidden, everyone but Junichiro… actually where was he? You didn’t see him anywhere. “President of the Agency, Yukichi Fukuzawa.” Then who you now learned as Mori looked to Miss Jane. “And if I had to guess, you’re the head of the society, Miss Jane Austen?”

“That would be correct.” Miss Jane nodded, stepping up next to Fukuzawa but she did not walk forward when Fukuzawa and Mori did. When you looked at her with a questioning glance she looked at you in the corner of her eye and gave a little wink and it was as if you could hear her voice in your mind saying, everything according to plan.

“So the time has finally come.”

“If the government found out that the leaders of the most powerful gifted organizations were meeting like this, I’m sure that they would be absolutely furious to say the least.”

“I’ll get straight to business then.” Fukuzawa said, pushing introductions aside. “A new member of the agency along with a trusted member of the society purposed an alliance between our three organizations “

“And?”

“I objected at first. The idea of cooperating with criminals goes against everything our organization stands for, not to mention the point of view from the society on this seeing as they have no place in this country.” You could see both Miss Jane’s fists clench despite the smile on her face and the emotionless face on Gaston nearly scowling at that. “But the request from the agency member came from someone who has been shot, kidnapped, slashed, and beaten by the Port Mafia, thus his word carried weight. I felt that I should investigate his request at the very least.”

“It would seem that we are both in a rather difficult position.” Mori replied, the more that they spoke, the less it seemed that they viewed the society as a valid power in this conflict.

“These are my thoughts, at the very least I would like to purpose a temporary truce between us.”

“Have you ever read the works of Schelling or perhaps Kissinger?” Mori asked after Fukuzawa’s requests.

“Both are researches of strategic studies, taught by a certain you know who. I know that Leroux and Miss Jane have read them both, I saw them reading their works this morning.” Dazai said, walking forward, this made Miss Jane raise an eyebrow at this and walk forward, joining along side the leaders and Dazai.

“I do read Sun Tzu.” Fukuzawa replied. 

“Like Dazai said, I am familiar.” Miss Jane spoke with a seriousness in her tone, no more smiling.

“There is a parallel between state warfare and strategies of organizations like ours. No force shall reprimand if we violate an agreement, what sanctions could be proposed if the Port Mafia suddenly broke a ceasefire? Or either of your people for that matter? Only the party that decided to uphold the agreement would suffer. As long as circumstances prevail which incentivize betrayal a limited ceasefire cannot be established. The only option left is for complete corruption.”

“Which is also impossible.” Miss Jane said, stealing the words right from Dazai before he could speak.

“Indeed, the Port Mafia is an organization of pride and resentment. Manny of my people have been dragged through the grime and muck.” Mori said, glancing at the British woman.

“Many of mine have been brought to the brink of death as well.” Fukuzawa added.

“Every single one of mine have risked everything they have ever had to do what they are doing now.” Miss Jane stepped in, now she was completely pissed off with Mori, it looked like she was ready to give him a black eye. But something about the both of their responses set more off, a clear expression of anger came across his face.

“But they didn’t die, did they? That is a source of shame for the Port Mafia.” Mori looked completely mad at this point. Dr. Stevenson saw all of this and began walking forward, ready to drag Miss Jane out of this.

“Then why don’t we have it out now?” Fukuzawa reached for his katana on his waist as Dr. Stevenson approached, panicked and now reaching out for Miss Jane. “Let’s settle this and put all of our grievances to rest.”

Port Mafia members jumped forward, ready to defend Mori, but Fukuzawa disarmed them as soon as the came. You watched as he cut through their weapons… how? He reached out to cut down Mori right as Dr. Stevenson was about to grab Miss Jane, but Mori was able to quickly dodge, grabbing Mis Jane by the wrist and wrapping his arm around her neck so that he could easily break it if need be. When the dust cleared you saw Miss Jane with Mori’s arm around her neck, Mori with Fukuzawa’s katana to his neck, Fukuzawa with Mori’s scalpel to his neck, and at Mori grabbing Miss Jane, Doctor Stevenson had drawn her gun and aimed it right at Mori’s head.

“I thought you had discarded your katana, you really haven’t changed at all, have you Fukuzawa?”

“And you still haven’t outgrown your obsession with scalpels, Dr. Mori. You still carry on like a little girl.” Fukuzawa’s eyes drifted over to Dr. Stevenson who held the gun to Mori’s head and Miss Jane whose breathing was panicked. “And it seems like you are always a guardian, Dr. Stevenson. Even when matters don’t involve you.”

“If it came to Miss Jane, it always involves me.” She said, not even glancing at the president. Then… snow fell from the sky, catching Mori off guard, along with yourself for that matter. Fukuzawa disappeared like a hologram and in Mori’s surprise Miss Jane tucked her head in, spun around out of the chokehold and kicked Mori back in the gut with her healed shoe. Everyone turned around to see Fukuzawa standing there, along with Junichiro. Miss Jane smoothed her gown as Dr. Stevenson came to stand in between her and Mori.

“A hologram ability, I see.” Mori turned away from you all, and began walking away. “I enjoyed our encounter, let’s continue it on the battle field.” 

“The agency and the society will be recovering Q tonight.” Fukuzawa spoke up as Mori walked off, he paused at the president’s words.

“What of it?”

“I would advise you not to get in our way, for our sake as well as yours.”

“Why’s that?”

“We actually have something in common, something important to us, that while the society respects not all of them can understand. We both have a love for this city. As people who live here and work to keep it safe we cannot allow outside forces to destroy it, which is why I believe Miss Jane and her society came all this way, to protect the people.” Fukuzawa explained, he glanced at Miss Jane for a response.

“More or less.” She said nodding. “But that is all with our cause you need to worry yourself with.”

“The Guild is powerful, you stand no chance against them.” Mori paused before turning around to look at Dazai. “That’s right, before I go my offer still stands if you want to come back into the fold, Dazai.”

You looked over to the brunette with a shocked expression on your face at those words. “Not a chance, after all you were the reason I was pushed out of the Port Mafia in the first place.”

Your eyes widened, Dazai was in the Port Mafia? Part of you expected that but now that you heard it, it startled you.

“As I recall you left out of your own volition.”

“You were afraid of me weren’t you?” Dazai asked to Mori’s statement. “Afraid that I would aspire to take your position, that one day I would run a knife across your throat just like you did to your predecessor. They say evil expects evil from others. I don’t like the idea of laying with you either.”

Mori sighed at this and turned to look at Miss Jane. “One last thing before I leave, a question.” He pointed towards you, sitting on the ledge. “Why have Miss (Name) join your organization?”

Miss Jane smiled and stepped forward so that she was only a foot away from the Mafia Boss. She reached into her dress pocket and pulled out something you couldn’t see but you could hear what she said as a smile came across Mori’s face. “Call it nostalgia.”

—————————

You now stood outside the agency where now everyone were packing up their belongings from the short time they spent here. You stood by Miss Jane’s side as she spoke to president Fukuzawa and Dazai who stood by his side. Miss Jane shook Fukuzawa’s hand as she bud him goodbye for now.“I apologize for taking our leave from you so soon, see from what Gaston and I both can tell, we’re not needed here in this plan anymore. We’ll have Alexandre and Gaston stake out the sight while you are retrieving Q, but I doubt it will be needed especially if everything goes to plan.”

“If I may ask, where will you all be off to next? You’ll be staying in Japan, correct?” Fukuzawa asked. Miss Jane nodded, releasing his hand and placing it next to her other hand on the handle of her bag.

“Yes, I have some places I want to visit with (Name). Places I want her to see.” Miss Jane said, bumping you playfully with her arm. You gave a weak smile, but your mind was elsewhere, what did Miss Jane show Mori?

“Oooo sight seeing, how fun.” Dazai piped up with a laugh.

“Not quite,” Miss Jane stood her head no. “Call it a trip down memory lane.”

Fukuzawa only nodded as William walked up to you two, but something felt off about him. “We’re all set to go, Lady Jane, Miss (Name), but are you sure about this?”

“I’m positive, William. This is all for the best.” Miss Jane’s voice turned sad before taking a breath and smiling. “Now let’s be off, no time to waste.”

—————————

Miss Jane took you in her car while everyone else went off on their own. Upon entering, Miss Jane gave the driver an envelope, telling him to open it when the time is right. As the car drove off you both sat in silence, a bittersweet expression on Miss Jane’s face. When you asked what the matter was or where she was going she simply told you not to worry. It wasn’t a long drive but soon you both arrived, the driver opened the door to reveal a manor, it was older, seemingly abandoned, European in style, and it vaguely felt familiar to you. The driver helped you and Miss Jane out, she lead you up to the house and pulled out a key and unlocked it before handing you they key. “This is rightfully yours, your father gave it to me before he disappeared.”

Your eyes widened in shock. Your father? You had no clue whatsoever about your father besides he was a detective, you didn’t even know his name, you were raised by your uncle and aunt after his disappearance when you were a baby. “M-my, father. You knew my father?”

“Quite well in fact, your father was good friends with my parents. He gave that to me the night he disappeared, you were only a baby. He told me we would meet and we both would achieve great things.” She lead you into the abandoned mansion. “This was your father’s hide out here in Japan, he was certainly a man with class.”

She lead you to a study, gothic in style. On the wall you saw a portrait, it was of a man, in his thirties with curly brown hair and brown eyes, in his arms he held a baby, a little girl. “Is that him? My father?”

“It is.” She nodded and walked over to the desk as you stared at the portrait. You heard her rummaging in the drawers before pulling out a piece of paper and walking back over to you. “He was a brilliant detective, but even more than that he was a loving father. The day he adopted you was the best day of his life and the day he had to leave you was the worst.” 

She handed you the papers and you looked down at it. It was a will and adoption papers, it had your name, you flipped through it and then you saw the signature… no way. Your breath hitched in your throat, how is this possible? Miss Jane smiled and placed a hand on her shoulder. You looked over at her with a shocked expression. “This can’t be real… this can’t be…”

“It is, your father was a very good man, a genius, a gentleman, he loved you so dearly.” She looked away from you and back to the portrait of you and your father. “You are destined for great things, Miss (Name). Just like your father…”

Next to the portrait there was a window, you saw a yellow car pull up behind your black car. This snapped you out of your thoughts and you looked back at Miss Jane with a curious expression, her eyes were also on the car and she just smiled and nodded. “Seems like our time together is over.” 

“What do you mean?”

She merely hummed and walked out of the study, you quickly followed behind, asking her what was going on, over and over again but she never gave you an answer. She opened the front door and you saw standing against the yellow car, a smiling figure, Fitzgerald. Then it all snapped as Miss Jane turned to you and handed you an envelope. “Give this to Dr. Stevenson. My time as the leader of the Society has come to an end.”

“W-why?” You asked, tears forming in your eyes. “Why are you giving up, Miss Jane?”

“It’s the only way. Gaston and William had the same reaction when I told them, but they know this the only way to stop all this.” She reached out a hand and whipped away your tears before leaning forward and kissing your forehead, like a mother. “Make your father proud, (Name).” 

You watched in horror as Miss Jane walked forward and to Fitzgerald’s awaiting embrace. You watched as he kissed her on the cheek and opened the car door for her before following himself. The car drove off and your sobs echoed in the empty air, you fell to your knees and you looked down at the documents in your hands, you saw the the signature and you spoke to yourself, drying your tears with your sleeves. “I’ll make you proud Miss Jane, I’ll make you proud father.”

Your fingertips traces your father’s signature on the adoption papers, Arthur Conan Doyle, other wise known as Sherlock Holmes.

[question-marked]

Eddie's taking Rocco and Dante out for a walk, and then after that he and his daughter Elena will play fetch with them in the backyard.

[the--sad--hatter]

Sparks Fly - Chapter 13 (Bucky x Reader)

Fandom: Marvel Soulmate!AU/Detective!AU

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, Gratuitous Violence, Criminal Activity, Life or Death Situations, Graphic Gore, Crime Scene Descriptions, Dark Humour, Slapstick Humour, Kara Humour, Catastrophic Amounts of Fluff, More Angst Than You Can Shake A Stick At

Summary: (Imagine Brooklyn 99 and Criminal Minds had a baby)

If you want to know if you’ve found your soulmate, it’s simple… All you have to do is kiss them. If they’re your soulmate then there will be sparks, literal sparks. You’ve seen it happen to other people and it is a sight to behold; at least you think it is. Detective Bucky Barnes is a little less enchanted with the idea.

Despite your glaring differences, you and Bucky work well together. You’re good at charming witnesses, he’s good at intimidating suspects. You can run a perp down, he can knock them down. But there’s one criminal who’s eluded you both for a long time, and when Brock Rumlow rolls back into town, you and Bucky find yourselves far outside your comfort zones.

Masterlist

Spotify Playlist

Chapter Thirteen - The Braidy Bunch 

You were afflicted with a severe case of cop-brain. It happened occasionally, you’d get so caught up in a case that you didn’t have room in your head for anything else. It usually happened on cases that were difficult to solve, enigma’s wrapped in mysteries, wrapped in a lack of evidence and a hard to decipher motive.

 This case had plenty of evidence. Two faceless corpses, a warning from a dead assassin, a murdered colleague, and a sinister bouquet of flowers.

 Motive was also clear. Rumlow was a psychopath and he was fixated on you.

 But where Rumlow was, what he would do next, and why he wanted you so afraid? Those were question you desperately needed answers to, and you had no way of knowing where to look.

 Your apartment held no clues. If it weren’t for the corpse and the roses left behind, you’d never even have known someone had been there. That thought had sent chills through you, and your grip on Bucky’s hand had tightened for a moment, but then you pulled yourself back from the edge and thrown yourself in crime-solving mode. It was the only way to get through this, to survive this. You had pulled your hand from Bucky’s and put on a profession air that kept the darkness at bay.

You weren’t the lead detective on the case, but assigning tasks authoritatively, you sure as hell acted like you were. Nobody fought you on it, they just nodded and took their marching orders seriously.

 Natasha was working her own case, with the new knowledge from you and Bucky. She was pressing on every contact she had in various other law enforcement agencies and scrolling through endless Interpol lists to identify the two faceless victims who had kickstarted the nightmare.

 Wanda and Pietro were combing through weeks of backdated security footage from the Chinese restaurant next door, to see if there had been any suspicious activity around your apartment before last night.

 Clint and Sam downtown at a well known bar for gang members, grilling his informants for information about Hydra resurfacing.

 Steve was fending off Major Crimes, and The FBI. Hydra were a known terrorist organization, which made this case a free for all, and he was working his ass of to keep it getting taken from you.

 And Bucky was glued to your side, just like he said he would be. He was taking his vow seriously, and you hadn’t left his sight for more than a few minutes, and that had been when you went to the bathroom. Even when you got back to the Precinct, he had taken up residence in an empty briefing room with you, helping you set up the whiteboards with all the evidence and passing you coloured pins as you asked for them.

 Everyone was doing everything the could, but to no avail. By the time darkness had fallen over the streets of New York, you were no closer to solving the case than you had been when the day began. You just couldn’t accept that though, you were convinced there had to be something you missed, and when Bucky had dragged you out of the station to take you home, you had managed to snag a file and smuggle it back to his apartment by hiding it under your shirt.

 “I fucking knew you were still working.” He sighed.

 You looked up from your cross-legged position on the bed, not even mildly guilty at having been caught. He was glaring at the file in your lap like he could set it ablaze if concentrated hard enough.

 “M’not tired. Listen, I was thinking about the flowers. They’re in the lab so we should know more tomorrow, we should go to the florist and see if they remember anything about who ordered them.” You said.

 There had been no card with them, because Rumlow hadn’t needed one. The flowers themselves were the message. He was telling you it was him, letting you know he was still alive, making sure you knew he was coming for you. He was lurking somewhere in the shadows, trying to get inside your head, under your skin.

 But everyone had thought he was dead. He’d been free and clear, and he’s blown it because he needed to hurt you. He might have thought he was winning, but he’d given you the upper hand, because he’d proven that you were the one who was under his skin. He’d fucked up, and that was how you were going to catch him, you were going to use his obsession against him.

 You just weren’t sure how, but you knew you could figure it out.

 You were startled out of your reverie by a pillow landing in your lap, and it surprised you enough for Bucky to pluck the evidence file out of your hand.

 “What?”

 He tossed it onto the corner of the room, and switched the light off so the only sliver of light came from the hallway. Oh, so he was sending you to bed.

 “I’m not sleepy yet, what the hell?” You snarled, attempting to get up and retrieve the file.

 “You’re not sleepy because you’re not calm.” He said, shoving you back down onto the bed. “You need to stop thinking.”

 That was rich, because by the expression on his face, he was thinking very deeply about something. While you were flattened against the headboard and glaring up at him, he re-adjusted the pillow on your lap and with a long, deep breath, climbed onto the bed and lay his head down on it.

 “What the fuuuuck is happening?” You whispered quietly, too afraid to speak loudly or move.

 It was like some sort of wild animal had climbed onto your lap in a sudden and unforeseen show of domesticity.

 “Mindless tasks keep your mind from wandering, and the happier you are, the easier you’ll sleep.” He grunted.

 That explained absolutely nothing, until… He swept his hair out from under his neck until it was all fanned out across the pillow.

 “Oh my God. Oh. My. God! Ohhhh myyyyy God.” You exclaimed in a hushed and awed whisper. “Are you? Is this? Can I?”

 “You know what it is.” He snapped.

 “I need to hear you say it, Bucket.”

 He scowled angrily at you, which didn’t quite have the effect he was hoping for since he was doing it upside-down from your lap. It was adorable.

 “You can braid my hair.” He eventually grumbled, not at all happy about it.

 You were thrilled though. The words were music to your ears and you clapped your hands together excitedly before you wiggled your fingers in anticipation. You hadn’t actually thought he would ever, in a million years, actually let you loose on his luscious locks. The first brush of your fingers against the brunette strands felt like victory, and you knew it was a memory you would treasure forever.

 You gently pulled your fingers through his hair, working out all the little kinks and knots, careful not to tug too hard. You didn’t want to spook him. He just lay there though, and after a few moments his eyes fluttered closed and all the little line on his face smoothed out as his expression melted into one of relaxation. He was enjoying this!

 You painstakingly parted his hair into even sections, and pretended you couldn’t hear the way his breathing evened out, but when you gently raked your nails across his scalp to section a parting, you couldn’t pretend you hadn’t heard that. It was quiet, but unmistakable, the soft grunt of pleasure that rumbled from his slightly parted lips. As soon as it happened, he froze, unnaturally still.

 So you did it again.

 As your nails softly dragged across his scalp, his eyelashes fluttered against his cheek and his hands balled into fists at his sides. The back of your neck suddenly felt too warm and your heart did a strange sort of pitter-pat in your chest. All those confusing feelings that were swirling around inside your chest were not any easier to deal with when the object of your affections was in your lap, and all those less confusing feelings south of your chest were not helped by the noises he was making.

 You still did it again though.

 The involuntary reactions it brought forth, the fact he hadn’t asked or hinted at you to stop, and the endearing blush that tinged his cheeks were all too hard to resist.

 It worked though, his plan. Your mind was purged of all Rumlow and case related thoughts, and even the confusing emotional bullshit slipped further away with every lock of hair you twisted. You just lost yourself in the intricate braiding, letting the repetitive actions take up your headspace. By the time you were finished, you were finally calm, blissfully thought free, and relaxed. So was he, if the peaceful expression on his face was anything to go by.

 “Bucket?” You hummed softly, tapping him on the shoulder.

 Nothing.

 “Bucky?”

 Oh damn. He was fast asleep.

 “Well, fuck.” You whispered to yourself.

A/N -  This chapter is shit, i know it's shit, but it was a shitty chapter or no chapter at all 😫

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[question-marked]

Looking at the gash that was on Ghost's side, Edward took out the things that he needed in order to bandage it from the first aid kit. As he was tending to that wound, Edward listened to him talk and he understood Ghost’s fear since he dealt with the same issues in a way.

“I understand you, to be honest I’m different as well. I don’t know if you feel the same way, but there was sometimes where I felt isolated from others when I was your age. Feeling that most people didn’t understand me, or the things I was going through.” 

He then sighed. “I agree, it does. I can empathize with Harvey, because we both had terrible fathers growing up. Your childhood and upbringing affect you greatly when you’re an adult. I’ll give you an example, me. My father was abusive, and he would always tell me that I’m an idiot and I wouldn’t amount to anything. Being in that situation made me angry and bitter, especially after my grandparents passed away. When I was 17, I had this game at the carnival. The game was rigged for the player to lose, and I felt good. I didn't care that I was cheating. I thought I was outsmarting people and getting so much money from it, and it gave me a rush...and ego boost that I never got before. It just snowballed from there and gave me confidence to commit bigger crimes that used my intelligence, and that’s the reason why I was the Riddler.”

As he bandaged the wound, Edward explained “I know that doesn’t apply to everyone, but I know if I had a father that loved me and gave me encouragement I would have never done any of the things I did that got me into Arkham in the first place. I would of been a computer programmer. Ghost, you have a lot in your life ahead of you…you can do great things. Well, more great things and remember you’re not alone."

As he was finished bandaging that wound, he asked "Do you want me to make you dinner? To me you look like you need more food.”

Ghost's dangerous smile grew a little wider. "It wasn't hard~ Just had to give them a reason to think his problem had gotten worse."

Frankly, it had been some of his best work~ All he'd had to do was plant alcohol scented things in that particular worker's office and coat pockets. And then steadily increase the strength of the smell and the frequency of empty bottles and cans. He'd even left boxes of incredibly boozy chocolate for the idiot to eat until the scent of booze was on his breath. And with all the hidden and not so hidden bottles and cans? Well, not even the terrible Arkham staff could ignore that~

He wasn't sure how to answer the other question so he remained silent for a few minutes as Eddie continued to wrap his wrist.

"...at the time... it's because I knew I was... different. And I'd seen plenty of news stories about awful things happening to people and then they'd be forever changed or perhaps were always different from the get go. I mean, just look at Mr Harvey; he had an amazing job until the pain of getting acid in the face drove him mad and now he's stuck in Arkham. Or... or Miss Doll. She's got a condition that never lets her physically age, wouldn't that mess with your head?" His wrist done, Ghost shifted so that Eddie could get at the gash in his side.

There wasn't much to Ghost; his ribs visible as he lifted the baggy hoody and a shirt he was wearing underneath. "But even if that wasn't the case, the amount of stealing and manipulating situations I've done is probably more than enough to land me there for real."

[belladonna-behold]

Fire in His Throat

In which fire ignites in Chuuya's throat. It is an omen.

Or

Soukoku assassin fic WIP.

------

The charity is simultaneously everything that Chuuya has seen before and yet nothing like them at all.

That is a lie. That is a horrible, blatant lie because Chuuya sees this type of charity at least five times a year, and there is only one singular difference that sets this party apart from the others. One, single difference, and nothing more. One that puts all sensibility upside its head with its feet in its mouth, and he can only rationalize it as some sort of crude joke Mori decided to play on him. Or maybe god had. Maybe both. He is convinced that he'd spited them in a previous life.

And now his mouth stings of wine and gasoline. Paranoia burns.

In a perfect world, one that Chuuya can whittle to his whims and his needs, that is where it ends. That is all there is to it and Chuuya's paranoia is nothing but sleeplessness weeding through his bones and airway, nothing but water leaving his throat, an overreaction. But overreactions-be-damned, the mere thought of that one difference sets fire to his spine like a fuse sewn tightly to the skin of his back, dynamite in his stomach. An invocation of his name and Chuuya finds himself wary of every breath he takes lest it flicks the metaphorical match and blazes his lifeline flat. He might not have the best restraint on his nerves, but fire only ever comes to his throat when something terrible is bound to happen, and Chuuya's gut has never failed him before.

The flame in his throat is all but an omen. He can only pray that it will not come to fruition.

The party itself is common at best. Chuuya has seen prettier things, but it is not mud in a kaleidoscope. Marble under tacky, gilded seats—flecks of gold on creme-colored walls—tapestries fashioned from (what is likely overpriced) lace and silver silk—velvet curtains framing the south of Yokohama's cityscape: appallingly grand, yes, and a horrendous display of wealth. But not what he would call a picture of taste and aesthetic.

Creativity is not a trait of old money, Chuuya had learned, for creativity is partial to those who lack and old money never lacked anything. And though Chuuya would rather nothing to do with the noveau riche, one would presume that those born suckling on silver spoons would take at least a modicum after their forefathers— the old pioneers, the eccentrics. Alas, they never do. He once mused that all their creative inclinations were sucked dry from the womb to further inflate their parents' wallets. He wouldn't put it past them. He was witness to stranger phenomena.

It's not exactly a fair battle, per se. Galas, parties, charities– Chuuya's already seen it all, he thinks. And it's difficult to impress someone who's seen everything. What are gilded chandeliers when Chuuya's seen elaborate light shows on the rivers of Peru? What are the lights of Yokohama if not child's play compared to Las Vegas at midnight? Akutagawa says that Chuuya's always been stingy with compliments, more so with trainees. And maybe this party is not as dreadful as he sees it to be. But the one single difference burning holes through the back of his skull renders all of that musing moot.

His target is staring at him.

He curses. Why is he staring at him?

Why is The Dazai Osamu staring at him when he thinks he's not looking?

He snaps his head, swiftly, to catch the man amid the crowd. Only to see him mingling and smiling and fake-laughing at a joke he was told by a faceless suck-up as if he had not been staring at him for the last ten minutes. And for a moment, all he can think about is the audacity.

Chuuya is not going insane, he is sure of it. He knows the sensation of being watched more intimately than he knows incaution. Knows it better than he could any lover. Dazai is watching him, and that alone is dangerous. Dangerous, because Chuuya is not supposed to be noticed. Not by a lesser man.

So Dazai must not be such a man.

But that's the thing, he can't be noticed. He has no reason to be noticed. Maybe he is going insane and sleep deprivation is starting to creep up his bones and neck and brewing unbid paranoia—

Chuuya only has half the sense to look away when Dazai, the damned bastard, looks to meet his gaze, and then he smirks.

He smirks.

Dazai Osamu is audacious, and he's never even met the man.

Calm down, Chuuya. Breathe deeply. So he does and he profiles.

Dazai Osamu, aged 25, 181 cm, weighs 67 kilograms.

Dazai Osamu, proficient in Judo, Eskrima, mixed martial arts, and other forms of combat.

Dazai Osamu, an upstart socialite from the Armed Detective's Agency after appearing from thin air almost four years ago.

Dazai Osamu, the bane of the underground who has solved 136 major cases in his entire four-year run at the ADA, and counting.

Dazai Osamu, intelligent, dangerous, enemy—an enigma that even the head of the underground wants dead, his target.

Dazai Osamu, the one difference.

—And then the bastard winks.

He squints and pinches the bridge of his nose, stifling a groan with his lips. God, he needs another drink.

Chuuya calls Dazai the one difference because that is exactly what he is: a system error, an irregularity. He has never seen a man so coveted in all his years of mafia work (and that includes his newbie espionage missions). And someone so social too, though Chuuya can tell, from his eyes and in how he walks through the room with practiced composure strapped to his back, Dazai is guarded. More than others know. It is dangerous because Dazai is familiar when he shouldn't be.

Not to a mafia executive.

Chuuya has never been one for poetry or prose, but nothing defines Dazai better than oxymoron.

---------

Hey, it's a WIP!

So I'm thinking of making this blog a personal diary of sorts. I'm only ever articulate when I write things down, and I also frequently forget ideas, so might as well.

So about this WIP. This is supposed to be either the first or second part of a short-ish story: the Cendrillon AU, or, Assassin Cinderella. This is most of what I've accomplished for this particular project, but I do want to see this fic come to completion. Unfortunately, I frequently lose interest in most things I write because I don't have anyone to speak to about this stuff, and I'm not the type to join online communities (I'm an introvert, see?). But, that's only because I crave validation. So uh, validate me pretty please?

(^^ That's a joke. I'm working on that. >_<)

So, Soukoku. Chuuya's a real firecracker, at least when it comes to Osamu. And the first draft I made for this fic (currently untitled because I'm hopeless?) was quite a bit different from this. It focused more on personality (while this one focuses on pretty prose.) I wasn't that satisfied with it because it was mostly streams of thought in paragraph form, with angry Chuuya as the voice. My friend preferred that type of style, but what can I say, I like pretty prose better. I reworked it until I was decently satisfied, and ended up with this.

The thing about my writing is that I only have vague ideas of the beginning, middle, and ends (and sometimes not even that), with specific details I resolved to include somewhere somehow. So this is definitely going somewhere. I think.

[question-marked]

"Does Nightwing still have that disco suit? If he does, he needs to wear it once in a while...maybe if I ask him nicely he'll do it? It would be fun if he could while we solve some cases together."

[mychemicalficrecs]

okay my last ask was kinda the same things but like fics where Frank is a total bad ass? Like I said in my other ask, The Enigmas Anomaly is a great example, thank you!!

Sometimes Frank specifically is a badass, sometimes everyone is pretty cool :D

Frank Is a Badass

The Enigma's Anomaly by Helena_Hathaway, Frank/Gerard, 179k [second part is a WIP], Explicit. Frank is a skilled assassin. He kills people for a living. He is not meant to fall in love with someone he’s been hired to kill. He’s supposed to just kill the guy and get it over with. If that’s the case then why is Gerard Way still alive?

we are not afraid (and we are not ashamed) by Trojie, Frank/Ray/Gerard/Mikey, 27k, Explicit. An ordinary skirmish in the desert with dracs leads to Frank taking the brunt of a new weapon - and ends with him pregnant, furious, and freaking out. When the shit hits the fan and he gets kidnapped and taken back for interrogation by Korse, and forced to listen to the contents of the Traffic Report, something in him snaps. This fucking dystopia has gone on too long.

The Only Sound That's Left by betweenthebars (butyoumight), Gen, 23k, Mature. Nuke, a member of the Government-sponsored 'superhero' group V5 dies under mysterious circumstances. The remaining four members of the group are barred from investigating the death, prompting them to go back to their (now illegal) vigilante ways. Along the way, they pick up a new ally (Nuke's replacement in the team), an old ally (who never went in for the government sponsored work), and end up fighting against a conspiracy that goes further than expected.

All We Are by lightisbreaking, Frank/Gerard, 21k, Rated R. Set in the future, where humans are on the brink of evolution. For the select few born with a special awareness of their own minds - an awareness which gives them abilities beyond the norm, life is suddenly a very dangerous thing. Frightened of what this could mean, the government set out to make this new race of humans extinct, telling the public that these people are mentally unstable defectives and must be kept under observation for the safety of the public. All of this brings together a rather odd troupe of people, hiding from the government and eventually having to protect one of their own when he's taken into custody. Superpowers AU!

Unholyverse by Bexless, Frank/Gerard, Ray/Mikey, 187k, Mature and Explicit. Religion! Horror! Exorcisms! Piercings! And Gerard is a priest.

Guys Like Us by bgoodg, Frank/Mikey, Bob/Frank/Mikey, 25k, Explicit. "You know how it is for guys like us. All we have is our word and our loyalty. Without that, we're just guns with legs." Frank is the muscle, Mikey is next in line and Bob is the police officer investigating them. Shoot em up yeah.

The Life of Dinosaurs by akamine_chan, Frank/Gerard, 29k, Mature. Gerard and Frank are rival hosts of dinosaur nature shows, who suddenly find themselves forced to work together. In order to impress their new boss, cable magnate Grant Morrison, they have to create a season of dynamic shows that maintain their high standards as well as continue to bring in the viewership (and ad revenue). On top of that, Frank and Gerard have to deal with the unexpected physical attraction they feel toward each other, all while avoiding stampeding ankylosaurs, ravenous theropods, and the occasional amorous pterosaurs.

and me here on the ground by ohnoktcsk, Frank/Gerard, 32k, Explicit. Frank's worked hard to build a life for himself in the city of Jersey, where dragons swoop and dive over the river, and every day is divided by the ringing of the city bells. He knows the streets of the city like he knows the the tattoos on the backs of his hands, and he's content with what he has: a job as a bike courier, friends who love to give him shit, and a crush on a professor of art history at the local university. But he's also got a secret—one he's been running from for a long time. But all it takes is one delivery to a mysterious, quite-probably-magical bookshop to show Frank that there are some things you can’t outrun. Especially since he’s finally found a place that he doesn’t want to leave.

Your Heart The Only Place That I Call Home by dear_monday, Frank/Gerard, 30k, Explicit. When Frank and his crew of morally ambiguous ethernauts (pirates, as Imperial law would have it, but that's such an ugly word) fetch up on the doorstep of the fabled Sanctuary, they aren't expecting to find much - least of all a long-lost brother, a garden in a box and the key to an ancient riddle.

Gerard Way's (Vampire) Detective Agency by jjtaylor, Frank/Gerard and others, 164k, Mature. Pete, in Decaydance Mansion, with a yarrow stake. Frank and Gerard, in the greenhouse, with a plant of questionable origin. Bob, everywhere you look, with a gang of assassins for justice. Vampires, valets, pamphlets, haunted furniture, dub-thrall, disembodied voices, zombie couriers, and sinister rituals.