#tag: detective noir

[lahficclub]

Alexander Horne and the East Ham League

Link for the fic: Alexander Horne and the East Ham League

Author: NotAlexHorne

Relationship: Greg Davies/Alex Horne

Additional tags:

Mark Watson

Frank Skinner

Tim Key

Fatberg | Tim Key's Bear

James Acaster

Kerry Godliman

Sarah Millican

Other Character Tags to Be Added

Genre bending

Detective Noir

Sherlock Holmes pastiche

a touch of poirot

Period-Typical Homophobia

Unreliable Narrator

Case Fic

gratuitous Paul Hollywood slander

third party narrator - Freeform

Complicated Relationships

Crimes & Criminals

look this fic is weird and i have no idea how to tag it

Other Additional Tags to Be Added

sneaky references to bad golf

Prompt:

Prompt: 1920s noir detectives! I'm thinking detective Alex and crime boss/suspect Greg and (not sure what ratings are allowed, please feel free to lower it if you'd be more comfortable!) explicit dom/sub stuff, maybe dub-con or period-typical homophobia unless you want to leave the more sexual/angsty stuff out! Which would be absolutely fine!

Summary:

It's 1926 and Alexander Horne is a London private detective with more expenses than income. After a night of heavy drinking with his flatmate and colleague Mark Watson, Horne is woken early the following morning to find a client at his door: a woman looking for her missing son. It's an impossible case, but with mounting bills and an empty account, Horne hasn't got much of a choice but to take it. But when his investigation takes him too close to matters beyond his comfort, he's forced to make some tough choices.

[mail-me-a-snail]

dt. cole phelps, badge 1247.

I CAN'T BELIEVE I FORGOT TO POST THIS but here's the cover for my cole playlist while i work on comms and exams :]

(won't be linking the playlist as it's not done yet)

[cineresis]

Angels in America

It's amazing how fast an evening at your favorite club can be ruined by someone keeling over and frothing at the mouth. The band never quite gets back into the swing of things afterwards.

"Angel," sighed one of the men, or nearest approximants, at the table next to mine, "why is it that I can never go anywhere with you without stumbling across a body?"

"Oh, come now," said his partner, a soft, fluffy confection in caramel and cream, rising hastily to make his way toward the source of the commotion. The first gentleman, dark, lanky, and excruciatingly chic, got up to follow him. "It's hardly every time."

I stayed where I was for now, casting my gaze around the room as I went over my memory of the past twenty or thirty minutes. Too many people passing close enough to slip something into the victim's drink, too many others to watch at the same time, too many more opportunities to poison him outside my field of view. I was a detective, not God.

"Stumbling upon, once. Literally. Do you know what it's like to have to clean up after that sort of thing? It takes a personal toll."

"Hush, Crowley," chided "Angel". "People can hear you, and you know how queer they get about these things. Ooh, yes, that's strychnine, all right," he added cheerfully, pulling a small vial from his vest pocket and tipping it into his handkerchief. "Nasty stuff."

I got up. As I approached, I caught the faint, unmistakable chemical sweetness of ether fumes and gave them a wide berth, choosing instead to inspect the victim's plate and glass before turning to scan the room from this perspective.

"Now, just what might you be doing?" drawled Crowley.

I looked him over, too, while I was at it. In Crowley's case, this involved a lot of looking and not much over; he was easily more than six feet tall, even while slouching rakishly. The snake tattoo on his right temple suggested certain things about him. The dark glasses that he hadn't removed since he'd entered just suggested questions, since I highly doubted he was blind. "I'm a detective," I said, leaving the obviously at the end of that sentence to implication. "What are you doing?"

This response seemed to delight him. "So are we," Crowley answered, and grinned. "But if you want to get specific about it, I'm keeping you distracted while my friend saves this man's life. Let's see your license, then."

As I took it out, keeping at least one eye on him and his partner, Angel called out to the rubbernecking crowd around us, "I need someone here to run and call the nearest hospital, and a couple of strong men to help get this poor fellow someplace dark and quiet to rest. Best use one of the tablecloths for a stretcher," he added to the first volunteer who stepped forward.

Crowley leaned in closer to study my license. "Drake Silas Donovan," he read off. "'Silas', really?"

"What about it?"

"I've just always wondered what kind of parent would name their kid Silas."

"The kind who had a grandfather named Silas," I replied coolly, snagging my license back. "Your turn."

He obliged. Anthony J. Crowley, it read, licensed in London since 1905, the year before mine. I wondered how long he'd been at this; he looked too young for his apparent age, but then I looked too old for mine. "A. J. Crowley," I read his signature aloud. "Get asked if you're any relation every time, or just most?"

There's a certain motion a person's head makes when they roll their eyes. Crowley's was making it. "The man's an embarrassment to the side," he griped. "I made my name legitimately."

"And your friend?" It wasn't as if I couldn't put two and two together. There's a certain type of person who's got both a nose for trouble and the brains to prepare for it; if it walks, talks, and thinks like a dick, it probably is one. It was just that I wasn't in the habit of trusting people, and I'd be a real schmuck to neglect basic due diligence on the guy purportedly surrounded by bodies. 

Detectives are no better or worse than any other person. They just think it's usually more interesting to solve crimes than commit them.

"Oh, he's as legitimate as it gets." Crowley turned to his companion, who was getting to his feet, brushing his clothes off fussily. Beside him, the two volunteers hoisted the unconscious victim onto a tablecloth spread across the floor, momentarily dislodging the ether-soaked cloth before Angel caught it and laid it carefully back in place over the victim's nose and mouth. "Aren't you, Aziraphale?"

Angel — "Aziraphale"? — looked up, startled. "Pardon?"

"Mr. Donovan here wants to see your detective's license," Crowley explained, enunciating his words with malice aforethought.

"Oh! Yes. Of course I always have that with me. Now just where did I..." He started patting down his pockets, stopped suddenly, and took a lovely calfskin card holder out of his coat. "Ah. Here it is."

Beaming, he passed it to Crowley, who passed it to me with the comment, "You'll find everything in order, I'm sure."

I glanced down at the card, then back up at Angel. "Am I supposed to call you A. Z. Fell or Aziraphale?" I asked, pronouncing the Z correctly as zed.

"A. Z. Fell is how 'Aziraphale' is pronounced in the King's English," said Crowley blandly, affecting a cut-glass Oxford accent on the last phrase. His partner seemed pleased by this comment, rather than annoyed.

"I'm afraid my progenitor bestowed me with a rather unwieldy given name," Fell admitted, raising fascinating questions about just how many syllables the British peerage could fit on a birth certificate when they really tried. "Aziraphale just sounds so much more euphonious, don't you think?" Crowley was right; I couldn't tell whether Fell had meant to say A. Z. Fell or the de-accented gloss. He'd lengthened the half-syllable between zed and Fell to a full vowel, but some people said zetta.

"I wouldn't know," I replied, handing the license back to Crowley, who was nearest. When Fell didn't take my bait, I added, "Lucky that you happened to have ether handy. I wouldn't like to imagine what might've happened if you'd decided to stay in tonight." I also lied when I said sorry, and when I swore to tell the whole truth and nothing but. Little white lies are the oil in the gears of civilization.

"Oh, I always carry that, too," Fell explained earnestly. "One gets into the habit after one's first run-in with strychnine, and of course ether has so many useful applica—"

"I wouldn't, angel," Crowley interrupted, sounding very amused. "Mr. Donovan thinks you're the one behind this."

"Oh," said Fell, nonplussed. "Gosh. Well, I — I suppose I can't blame him. He doesn't know me from Adam, after all, and has no reason to trust me — I did warn you about giving people funny ideas, Crowley, honestly. Of course," Fell turned to me, laying an elegant hand across his chest, "if you were to search me, you would find only a small collection of antidotes — oh, but a habitual poisoner would probably carry those, too, especially if he were the sort of voyeur with a penchant for playing the hero. I certainly wouldn't be convinced of my innocence. Yes, I can certainly understand whatever suspicion you might feel towards me, however misplaced it may be."

Crowley watched this thought process with an expression somewhere between fascination and agony. "Well, at least now he probably thinks that if you'd done it, you'd have been caught by now," he remarked, presumably because he was thinking the same thing. "You'll have to excuse my friend," Crowley added to me. "He still believes that the innocent have nothing to fear. Somehow."

"First time visiting?" I guessed.

Fell's bemusement answered my question before he did. "Pardon?"

"Never mind."

[dannybobany]

Hey omori fans! new genre of omori au that we should be making:

Previous iteration of headspace where Sunny got bored and decided to do a themed one, think about it right? There’s been dozens of different headspaces over the four years Sunny isolated himself he couldn’t have literally been doing the exact same thing the entire time right?

If the cycle can repeat in as little time as three days IMAGINE HOW MANY THAT MUST BE OVER FOUR YEARS And to be entirely fair it is said that this particular iteration is shorter then usual but even still I can’t imagine one headspace adventure ever lasted more then a week or two

Maybe one time Sunny decided he wanted a sc-fi headspace or a steampunk headspace, THE POSSIBILITIES ARE INFINITE PEOPLE!!!

(And yes, I did realize halfway through typing this that this is just the undertale au phenomenon.. but should that stop you? Absolutely not)

Me? I wanna make one where sunny got bored of how PG everything was so he made headspace gothic grimdark, the characters are allowed to curse now and the enemies bleed but.. like in the way a 13 year old boy would think is cool … right? That’s funny to me and I would absolutely like to make designs for it

But there’s so many ideas someone could do here, where was the truth contained? What areas are new and what’s consistent? What form do the keys take?

Omori fans I WANT TO SEE THIS. It’s crack it’s absolutely crack!! but do it anyway because it can also be fun !!!!

[jtownraindancer]

Blore & Armstrong Running on The Same Wavelength: A Collection

[artific3r]

Shoutout to Sanders Sides and also Mentopolis

[raphaerolo]

For the wip game

Pikmin consultancy????!!!

-@notthestarwar

Thanks for asking about the pikmin consultanty @notthestarwar >:)

The unfortunate thing about this wip is that I haven't drawn the punchline to the joke yet

I need to clean it up and yknow finish the joke, but here it is so far, enjoy your pikmin self in their lil suit

Find wip game post here

[emily-mooon]

Cause Everybody Knows, He’s A Femme Fatale.

[itwoodbeprefect]

Last line tag!

Rules: Make a new post, post your latest line from your WIP & tag as many people as there are words.

Tagged by: @luredin (thank you! <3)

i jump around too much while writing to be 100% sure what the last line was, but i know this was recent:

“I feel sharp,” Hutch lies. “I could solve any puzzle.”

which would be ten people, but i'm going to cut that in half (i guess technically "i could solve any puzzle" is a complete sentence anyway) and tag five: @redgoldblue @spaceradars @sparrowsarus @stephmcx @girlonastring. as always, only if you want to, of course!

[godsdefect]

“why do you headcanon Cole Phelps as transgender?”

so basically

[bumblingbabooshka]

Asil & Her wife “Tim” (she won’t give Asil her real name unless she gives her an amount of money that gets higher every time the topic’s brought up)

Asil and “Tim” are married because while Asil was investigating a case she found out that Tim’s current husband was a lout who’d she’d have to get married to again if she didn’t find someone else to enter into a marriage with. Asil tried several avenues to get Tim out of this but in the end she was cornered and had to think quickly and so she got married to Tim instead of him as soon as the previous contract was up.  She and Tim don’t cohabitate (Tim lives various places, all on Ferenginar while Asil travels constantly for her work but mostly lives out of a small personal ship) and they don’t talk regularly but every time their marriage contract is coming to a close Asil offers to renew it and Tim* accepts the money ‘on behalf of her father’. *It’s unclear whether or not Tim actually has any family Tim is a dominatrix/escort (two separate occupations but she’ll combine ‘em if you want) and considered very...arousing in every way, both good and bad, to other Ferengi. She doesn’t really care about women’s rights or anything, she just wants to make money and she saw the new movement as an opportunity to do that. She intentionally doesn’t lean too far towards being political so that she isn’t considered a persona non grata and will 100% disparage and make fun of feminists when it suits her to do so. Basically just wants to be provoking enough to stand out but not enough to genuinely challenge the status quo. When she and Asil are in public together she makes Asil speak to people for her because it’s not proper for a lady to speak to strangers! But when she’s alone she speaks to strangers just fine. She also sometimes shows up naked just so Asil will scramble to buy her clothes. Asil has no idea whether or not Tim likes her earnestly or is just using her. (she would continue their marriage either way, it’s just something she’s curious about) They go on a lot of dates whenever Asil has time and Tim seems to enjoy herself immensely but she’s very mysterious about her background. They also have a lot of sex.  Tim is actually a pretty paranoid person who feels safe with Asil...but she doesn’t want her to know that. Thinks Asil is a bit of a sucker but thinks it affectionately. Appreciates Asil’s calmer interactions with her and her steady but distant support since her ex-husband was very controlling and volatile. Currently considers Asil to be a kind and generous patron more than a wife but...who knows~ Asil finds Tim fascinating and wants to help/protect her. Asil also has a bit of a type which Tim fits very neatly into: Cute girls who will bite her. She considers Tim to be her wife. Asil is actually very popular with the other women Tim hangs out with and they all giggle and fawn over her whenever Tim brings her around. Tim loves it. Asil hired someone to teach Tim how to read so she wouldn’t get caught up in any more unfair contracts while Asil was gone.  Tim also sometimes proves useful with getting information out of people that Asil can’t or exploring avenues closed to Asil. She helps her wife eagerly! For the right price~

[watertaxadermy]

Some animation for one of my OC’s lore! Joost Nino Douglas through the most important years of his life.

[fleursetrebellion]

Transfem Film Noir

Police Chief: "You're off the force, Detective. Hand in your gun and your badge."

Hard Boiled Detective: *brooding, hands in her penis and her Y chromosome*

[kshaar]

ftr im most 👀 at neve However im not going to say any words about any companions before i actually meet them

[jtownraindancer]