#that glasses ghost gives everyone around it secondhand embarrassment

[victorluvsalice]

We’ve reached Winter Saturday in the Chill Valicer Save, aka New Year’s Eve, aka the last update I played before the Infants Patch and Growing Together! And I’ve managed to keep it to just 65 pictures this time around. :p Look, I don’t know what to tell you about the updates lately, I just have a LOT of stuff I want to take pictures of with these three.

Anyway -- we start with simultaneous pooping. XD Look, I’m sorry, I just thought it was funny that Alice and Kelly ended up using their respective toilets at the same time. A little more seriously, the big event of the early morning hours for these three was Victor handling spirits in the house by giving them gifts! While Alice took care of business and then settled in for a few extra hours sleep and Smiler worked on modding The R.E.F.U.G.E. upstairs, Victor ventured downstairs to offer one of his dipped candles to the little weird glasses ghost who had appeared by the stairs. The ghost accepted this with a question about whether this made them boyfriends and if they should kiss (dude), but then disappeared -- leaving behind ANOTHER bizarre idol! Wow, so now the gang has THREE! I had Victor just put this one in his inventory -- yeah, perhaps I could just start selling them to oddity collectors, but it feels nice to have one on-hand in case of emergencies, you know?

After that, he and Shadow had some breakfast together in the newly-remodeled kitchen -- but when the specter hanging out in THERE proved to be a little too distracting (dang specter sprinkles everywhere), I decided Victor needed to banish them with a present as well. But as he was out of candles, he had to make something from scratch -- so why not try making some lovely apple jam? Despite nearly forgetting what he was doing halfway through to try and talk to the spirit (please don’t, we do not need ANY more fires), he did successfully finish a good batch -- and the specter appreciated the jar it was giving, leaving behind a lovely glass of Soul Sip for Victor to try later! Victor is definitely starting to get the hang of this “medium” thing, I think. :p

While all that was going on, Alice and Smiler eventually came downstairs themselves -- Alice to give Kelly a little affection before moving onto painting, while Smiler decorated the place for New Year’s! Nothing too complicated, just a nice bit of stars bunting for the roof and lights for the fences. :) Though, honestly, if I was going to do this again, I’d do it the other way around -- feels like it makes more sense. Ah well, next New Year’s!

[deliquescentnightmare]

Easy Come Easy Go~ CH 2

~A degree in not taking anyone's bullshit~

As they walked towards the house, the group was approached by a blue-clad man.

“Anderson, here we are again, '' Sherlock said sarcastically.

“This is a crime scene. I don’t want it contaminated. Are we clear?”

“Quite clear, and is your wife away for long?”

“Don’t pretend you worked that out. Someone told you that,”

“My deodorant?”

“It’s for men,”

“Of course it’s for men, I’m wearing it,”

“So is sergeant Donovan,” Sherlock proclaimed dramatically and Delila sighed, rolling her eyes, “Phew, and I think it just vaporised, may I go in?”

“Now, whatever you’re trying to imply,”

“I’m not implying anything. I’m sure Sally came ‘round for a nice little chat and just happened to stay over,'' Sherlock brushed by them, pausing at the top of the stairs to look down his nose as Anderson, face barely hiding his triumphant joy, “And I’m assuming she scrubbed your floors going by the state of her knees,”

“I-“ Donovan and Anderson were both rendered speecess by this. Sherlock vanished inside and John sidled past them, clearly feeling the secondhand embarrassment of the encounter, limp extremely pronounced as he struggled up the stoop. Delila glided past the adulterous duo, amusement clear on her face as she followed the two men inside. They’d gone further into the hallway and Delila took her time to take in the surroundings, and she could hear them talking in the hallway.

“Who’s this?” Lestrade’s voice floated down the hallway.

“He’s with me,”

“Yeah but who is he?”

“I said he’s with me,”

“Is this a bad time, boys?” She asked from where she leaned in the doorway, eyebrows raised.

“Ye- Delila?!?!? What on earth are you doing here?” Lestrade looked as if he’d seen a ghost- mildly panicked and extremely confused.

“Ah, hello again,” the tallest of the group remarked as he turned to look at his blonde companion again.

“But… You’re not due until the 16th!!’” Lestrade exclaimed

“Doctor Watson, what is today’s date?” Delila asked the blonde, turning to him as well.

“February 17th,”

“…oh,” Lestrade looked sheepishly to the side, “I- uh..”

“Missed picking me up from my flight? Missed most of my calls? Left me alone in a city I didn’t know?” Delila asked amusedly before crossing the room to kiss him on the cheek, “Apology accepted. Now, onto the other reason I’m here. Do you need some help?”

“...We might, actually. Um, Sherlock, this is-“

“Your daughter, Delila Lestrade. Yes I am aware. Now, where are we?”

“Upstairs. Delila, you can tag along. Do you have gloves in that little bag of yours?”

“Always,”

“Wait, does she even have jurisdiction here?” John asked.

“Well, do you?” She remarked, not looking at him as they climbed the stairs.

“Erm, I don’t think so,”

“I can give you guys 2 minutes,”

“May need longer,”

“The name’s Jennifer Wilson, according to the credit cards. We’re running them now for contact details. Hasn’t been here long, some kids found her.”

“Did she have anything with her? She looks to be dressed for travel, and rain. Umbrella or a purse maybe?” Delila asked, taking in her surroundings as they came to the top of the stairs.

“Not much, she had her wallet, and an umbrella in her pocket,”

“That’s odd….” Delila murmured. They fell silent, and Delila reached into her small blue purse to retrieve a pair of black latex gloves. She pulled them on, sanitised her hands, and then watched as Sherlock started to inspect the body. It was silent for a long minute.

“Shut up,”

“I- uh nobody said anything!”

“You were thinking, it’s annoying,” Sherlock remarked and Delila scoffed in amusement. He looked up and narrowed his eyes, brows slightly furrowed.

“Something funny?”

“Nothing, you’re just… different than I expected,”

“And what is that supposed to mean?”

“You’re peculiar, can’t tell if that’s a good or bad thing yet,” Delila replied, not breaking eye contact. He huffed and reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone and typing away at it.

“Well, what have you got?”

“Not much,”

“She’s German, rache, German for revenge. She could be trying to tell us-” Sherlock shut the door before Anderson could finish.

“Yes, thank you for your input,”

“So she’s German?”

“You’re kidding,” Delila gave her father a deadpan look.

“What?”

“Of course she’s not German.” She replied with a sigh.

“She is from out of town though. Planned to stay in London for one night before returning home to Cardiff. So far so obvious,”

“Sorry, obvious?”

“But the message-” Lestrade insisted.

“Dr. Watson, what do you think?”

“Of the message?” John asked, tilting his head slightly to the side.

“Of the body, you’re a medical man,”

“What? No! I’ve got a whole team outside,” Lestrade broke in.

“They won’t work with me,”

“I’m breaking every rule letting you in here,”

“Yes, because you need me,” Sherlock leveled Lestrade with a serious stare and the latter let out a disgruntled sigh.

“You’re right. I do. God help me,” he admitted after a moment.

“Well I’m not quite god, but you did bring me along for this reason, no?”

“Oh... uh-yeah. Sherlock, Delila has a degree in forensic science,”

“I’d be happy to offer my expertise, Mr Holmes,”

“I suppose you’ll do, Miss Lestrade,” Sherlock replied dismissively.

“Doctor, actually. I didn’t waste away amongst the religious southern zealots at Duke university for nothing,” Delila approached the body and set to work.

“Anderson, keep everyone out for a couple of minutes,” Lestrade disappeared and John leaned closer to his companion.

“Well what am I doing here?” John whispered.

“You were supposed to be helping helping me make a point,”

“I’m supposed to be helping you pay rent,”

“Well this is more fun,”

“Fun? There’s a woman lying dead!”

“Perfectly astute observation, Dr. Watson,” Delila remarked, peeling off her gloves, “But there’s more to it than that. Asphyxiation, fell unconscious and choked to death on her own puke… Likely one of those suicides that the Yard’s been investigating, based on the timing and the fact that there are no outward signs of drugs or alcohol. Citrus smell around the mouth is exceptionally strong, likely going to be stronger when her stomach is opened,” Delila pushed her glasses up on her nose, “I’ve got more to say, but I’ll leave the rest to Mr. Holmes and his- what did it say on the website again..? Oh yes- deductions,”

“Alright. What’ve you got?” Lestrade asked before the smartass brunette could comment.

“The victim is in her late 30’s, a professional person going by her clothes, something in the media going by the frankly alarming shade of pink. Married for at least 10 years but not happily, she had a string of lovers but none of them knew she was married,”

“Are you just making this up?”

“Her wedding ring, dad. Her jewelry is clean but her wedding ring is dirty and beaten. She cleans everything but the ring, so obviously it doesn’t mean much to her-” Delila explained, “Or...uh it didn’t mean much to her,”

“Not just that. The inside of her ring is clean. It’s regularly removed but not for polishing. The only polishing it gets is when she works it off her finger. Look at her nails, she doesn’t work with her hands. So what or who does she take it off for? Certainly not one lover, she’d never be able to sustain the illusion of being single for that long. Simple really,”

“That’s brilliant!”

“Agreed, Dr. Watson,” Delila tilted her head to the side, “The fact that you can perceive all of that in a matter of minutes. Have you officially tested your IQ or-?”

“Delila, focus!” Lestrade snapped and Delila flushed slightly.

“Sorry, continue,” She said sheepishly, looking away, balling up her gloves and putting them in her purse.

“You said she’s from Cardiff,”

“It’s obvious isn’t it?”

“Not to me..”

“It has to do with her jacket, yes? Like I said earlier? She’s dressed for travel. It’s wet along the underside of the collar and along the back. I’ve been around London all day just wandering and there hasn’t been a drop of rain.”

“You’re not as dumb as everyone else. Yes. Her coat is still wet so she can’t have travelled more than 2-3 hours. Because the inside of her collar is dry it means she’s turned it up against the wind. Strong wind that had to be over 15 kilometers per hour, otherwise she would’ve used her umbrella. Strong wind, heavy rains, 2-3 hour travel time. Cardiff. Simple,”

“That’s fantastic!”

“Do you realise you say that out loud?”

“Sorry I’ll shut up,”

“No.. it’s fine,”

“Cardiff… Media. Shouldn’t she have a suitcase? She seems fashion forward,” Delila asked

“Overnight bag maybe?” John suggested.

“Suitcase, yes she had one. Where is it then? What have you done with it?”

“How do you know she had a case?”

“Small splash marks along the heel and calf, small bag going by the spread. Wouldn’t get this pattern any other way.”

“Well, hate to break it to you but there isn’t a case,”

“Say that again?”

“There wasn’t a case, sherlock. There was never any case,”

“Suitcase! Has anyone seen a suitcase?!? Was there a suitcase in this house?!?”

“Sherlock there wasn’t any case!”

“They take the poison themselves, they chew, swallow the pills themselves. Clear signs- even you lot couldn’t miss them!”

“Yeah thanks, and?”

“....Murder?”

“Don’t know how just yet, but they’re killings. All of them, serial killings. We’ve got ourselves a serial killer; god I love those, always something to look forward to. Serial killers are hard though, you have to wait for them to make a mistake,”

“We can’t just wait!”

“We’re done waiting. Don’t you see? Houston we have a mistake,”

“What mistake?”

“Her case! Where is her case? Did she eat it?”

“Oh. Someone else was here, took her luggage. That means the killer had to have driven her here! Forgot they had it?”

“-oh! OH! Phone to Cardiff, find out who Jennifer Wilson’s family and friends were! Find Rachel!”

“What mistake?”

“Pink!”

“Well, isn’t that clever?”

“What is?”

“They’re abductions, obviously,”

“Obviously,” Anderson sneered, “Great, another one,”

“Shut up, Anderson,” Lestrade snapped and Anderson gave an offended look to the Detective Inspector. John stared after them for a long moment after the two men disappeared.

“Don’t get yourself all worked up over him, John. Shall we?” She gestured down the stairs.

“I guess we shall,”

“Would you happen to want to grab a cup of coffee or something? I don’t drink, so that’s the best I can offer you,”

“That sounds nice, actually,”

“Was he your ride?”

“Well, a cab was my ride, but he’s the one who called it,” John replied and Delila laughed. As they left the building a voice called out.

“He’s gone,”

“Sherlock Holmes?”

“Yeah, he just took off, he does that,”

“Likely he’s not coming back then?”

“Doesn’t look like it,”

“Right… erm-”

“Well, we’re in Brixton, yeah? Any idea where we could hail a taxi?”

“Try the main road,”

“Thanks,” Delila held the tape up and john ducked underneath.

“But you’re not his friend. He doesn’t have friends,” Donovan said to John, “So who are you?”

“Nobody, I’m nobody. I- uh- I just met him,”

“I assume the same goes for you, whoever you are?” she asked Delila.

“I’d say it’s none of your business, but obviously you have something to say so go ahead”

“Just a bit of advice, you both. Stay away from that guy,”

“Why, exactly?”

“You know why he’s here?”

“It’s his job?”

“He’s not paid or anythin’. He likes it, he gets off on it, The weirder the crime, the more he gets off,”

“Says the officer in the homicide division,”

“-as I was saying. Be careful, because one day showing up just won’t be enough for him. One day we’ll be standing ‘round a body and Sherlock Holmes will be the one who put it there,”

“You’re telling us this, why?”

“Because he’s a psychopath, and psychopaths get bored,”

“Bravo. Stunning psychoanalysis, Sergeant,”

“Excuse me?”

“Bit of advice for you too, Sally. Stick to the dead people. Obviously the living ones are too complex for you to wrap your head around,”

“Delila! You’re- um- still here?”

“Yes, sorry. I was suffering through your Sergeant’s cookie-cutter judgements,”

“...Right. Do try to be nice to my officers, Delila. They’re the best I’ve got,”

“You could do better. Anyways, I’m going out for coffee with Dr Watson. Call me if you need me. Or actually, just remember to actually call me period.”

“I will, I promise. Donovan, come on,”

“Coming,”

“So then, coffee?”

“I think I saw a small café on Baker street. I know the owner,”

“I have zero idea where baker street is, but lead the way,”

[pizzapality]

Mended in Gold

Summary:  [Direct sequel to Valentine's Day (Concerning Oolong and Pfeffernusse)] In which a knight and his queen discuss broken teacups and life purposes. Mostly fluffy! Anahardt.

Hey all! Here’s another Anahardt fic because I can’t stop thinking about these cuties. It’s a sequel to my other one, which can be read here.

I’m still waiting on my AO3 invite! I’m excited to get these guys up there when I do. 

FF Link

It was a quiet, rainy sort of evening at the Watchpoint. It could have been because of the late hour, or because of the fact that many of Overwatch’s members had just returned from an arduous battle in Dorado, but one could hear even a pin dropping walking through the halls. Everyone had retired to bed early after dinner, leaving the common areas the perfect place for thinking.

Or making upgrades to crusader armor.

Brigette’s finger traced a few lines of a blueprint that rested on a desk, leaning over to scribble the line in darker for her older companion.

“This one, you old geezer!” she whispered irritably, trying not to wake anyone up but still trying to get her point across. “If we slightly adjusted the angle of the shoulder blades by three degrees, you would achieve that much less wind resistance during your charge! No wonder you can’t get there quickly enough to pin those guys – they’re miles away before you can even think about getting there!”

Reinhardt Wilhelm mulled over the paper carefully, lifting his drafting pencil to scratch idly at his fluffy white beard while adjusting the reading glasses sitting on his nose. He let out a long, low hum of thought before tapping the pencil lightly against the paper.

“But then…” he began, tilting his head slightly to the side while picking up a nearby sextant to perform a few measurements. He slowly jotted them down, careful not to snap the pencil in two – these things were so small, but pretty expensive.

“Then what?” Brigitte replied, curious. She leaned against the desk.

Reinhardt looked up at her, removing his glasses and placing them in front of him.

“Well, then I won’t appear nearly as menacing.”

The young woman couldn’t contain the long, agonizing groan that escaped from her.

“You’re impossible!” she exclaimed, reaching her hands up to dramatically grab fistfuls of auburn hair.

Reinhardt haughtily chuckled at her reaction before he looked over at his watch, noticing just how late it had gotten. 1 AM already? He supposed that time always flew when he and Brigette were hard at work.

With a hefty sigh, Brigette returned to pat Reinhardt hard on the back.

“You know, old man, you were always good at giving me a hard time.” Her tone was much more jovial this time as she leaned on his shoulder while giving him a playful flick of the ear. Reinhardt smiled at the girl before tapping his watch face.

“It is late, you know.” He remarked. “1 AM. This can wait until tomorrow, if you would like.”

Brigette shook her head, swishing her hair around her freckled face with a soft tsk-tsk. “What, you think that I’m going to quit just because we can't agree?” she said, placing a hand on her hip. “The frustrations you’ve given me over the years are more than enough to keep me up for a lifetime.”

An unfamiliar voice spoke.

“That makes two of us.”

Brigette and Reinhardt leaned over to and realized that they had now been joined by newly-recalled Overwatch operative Ana Amari in the doorway. Both colored slightly at her appearance, one more apparently than the other as she knew that her companion and Ana had some…unresolved issues in the past. Ana had recently resurfaced alive, when everyone for years believed her to be dead. Across the board there had been emotional and heartfelt reunions with her daughter, Angela, Torbjorn, and the others, but things didn’t seem right between Reinhardt and Ana. Like there was something that needed to be taken care of, but neither of them was brave enough to do it.

“Oh! Ana, we didn’t…see you there.” Brigette said, forcing herself to relax while the man beside her still struggled to find something to say. “I hope we didn’t wake you – I know it’s late.”

“Oh, no, dear. You didn’t.” Ana reassured her by dismissively waving her hand, gliding over to the coffee machine across the room and holding the button until the machine started up with a whirr. “I’ve seen enough in this life to be well past sleeping at night.”

The awkward silence between the three of them was instantly tangible. Reinhardt still remained dumbfounded in his seat, his vision shifting between Brigette and their new company. Mein Gott, what was he supposed to say to her? Well, he thought, he had many things to say – thousands of things. But nothing that wouldn’t turn to total and complete mush in his mouth the second he tried to say it. He thanked the Gods that Brigette was there beside him, else he would surely –

“Well, I’ll tell you what. All this planning has gotten me beat.” Brigette stretched her arms up high over her head before taking a moment to rub her face and rid herself of secondhand embarrassment. “I think I’m going to head off to bed.”

“Brigette!” Reinhardt hissed, exasperatedly grabbing at the girl’s shirt and tugging at it. The young woman locked eyes with the crusader and leaned over onto the desk, the grin on her face growing more wildly mischievous as every second passed.

Don’t go, his expression pleaded her, and she couldn’t help but snicker under her breath.

“Who is the squire to intrude on a private council between a knight and his queen?” she whispered, gathering the blueprints with one swift click from the clips on each side. Reinhardt ground his teeth.

Brigette bid them both a good night and swiftly exited the room, the sound of her footsteps hastily ascending the stairs being the last thing heard before the common room was in complete and deafening silence.

Reinhardt could feel his heartbeat quicken drastically as time went on. His eyes locked on Ana’s lithe form, who was now standing idly by the coffee machine while it poured steaming water into a teacup underneath. Just seeing her again clouded his mind -- even after all these years, she was still…breathtaking to behold. Her trademark blue headscarf was nowhere to be found, her battle attire stripped down to a black turtleneck and pants. Her hair, normally tied back into a neat braid, now cascaded freely down her back, silver strands catching and glinting in the light of the nearby lamp.  One amber eye fixated on the steam that rose from the cup as the water slowed to a trickle.

“Reinhardt.”

Her voice came sharp enough for him to instinctively stand, ripping him abruptly from what could only be described as ogling. Said amber eye was now focused on him, awaiting his notice.

“Would you like me to make you a cup of tea?”

His shoulders slouched as the words reached his ears. A simple enough question, to be sure.

“I…would love one.” He breathed, half-stumbling toward the counter.

How was he still so flustered? After all this time, how did she still manage to make him feel like he was gasping for air? She truly was an alchemist.

He stopped next to her at the counter, resting his hands against its marble rim. He tapped his fingers against the countertop, trying to think of something, anything to say.

“So, you couldn’t sleep?” his tone was broken, crackling, almost as if he were afraid to disturb the silence.

“Not once. Not in many, many years.” Her reply was immediate. It startled him.

“And why is that?”

“When demons are chasing you, it’s hard to find a moment to rest.”

He let out a sigh then. This was going nowhere.

The coffee machine had finished filling the second teacup, and carefully Ana’s lithe fingers wrapped around the handle, lifting it and placing it on a saucer in front of her. She reached for a small satchel she’d brought with her, sliding it open and pulling out a tea bag which she carefully dropped into her teacup. She ran her fingers around its gold rim methodically, slowly watching a yellow tint seep from the pouch.

“And what for you?” her tone was pensive. He tensed, unsure.

“Kamillentee?”

“Ah,” The woman mused, airily, turning to the small satchel and rooting a finger around. Her eye lit up suddenly, pulling out a similar bag that was tinged with a green corner.

“Here we are, some chamomile.” A ghost of a smile perched itself upon her lips, and she dropped the bag into Reinhardt’s hand. “I apologize if it tastes bitter – it is my last, and easier to store alongside my other flavors.”

Reinhardt chuckled under his breath, easing the small bag into his cup.

Before too long, words found him.

“And you?” he asked.

“And I?” her voice didn’t waver.

“What are you drinking?”

She took a moment, extending her fingers to lift the saucer of her cup. He could see a painful look cross her features for the shortest of moments – eyebrows furrowed, lips hardened into a thin, straight line. But then it was gone.

“Taiwanese oolong,” she replied, turning toward him with a sad smile. “It’s bitter, but it helps me relax.”

He grunted awkwardly in recognition. Idly, his eyes fell to the way her left hand played around the teacup’s handle. Two fingers continually tightened and then loosened their grasp around it, her thumb twiddling with a mended crack the cup had sustained. In fact, it looked like the cup was covered in mended cracks; the pink floral pattern that dotted the sides were still chipped or fractured, but expertly returned to their former glory when pieced back together.

He wondered why that cup felt so…familiar to him as he lifted his eyes to watch Ana brush a lock of hair behind her ear. Looking at it made emotions swirl within the pit of his stomach.

Wait.

Mein Gott, it couldn’t be.

“Ana, that isn’t --”

Her laugh was etched into his thoughts after he thought he’d never hear it again. It was so nice to know that he’d remembered it exactly.

“I was wondering when you’d notice,” she replied after looking down at the yellowish liquid that had begun to darken within the cup. “It’s a treasured gift that has continued to serve me well all this time.”

His whole body felt charged in that moment, as if he could power his rocket hammer with his spirits alone.

“What happened to it? What happened to…you?” he questioned, moving ever so slightly closer to her. Ana’s face turned, pursing her lips a bit before pulling in a slow breath.

“Reinhardt…” she warned, reluctantly.

“Forgive me,” he said matter-of-factly, his eyes hardened with determination. “I just…seeing you these past few days has been like seeing a ghost.”

He studied the scowl that crossed her face, but she quickly retracted the expression in favor of something a bit more forgiving.

“No,” she agreed with a sharp nod and a strange expression he couldn't pinpoint. “You deserve to know. After the incident with Talon, I needed time to reflect on everything I’d done.” She looked over at the last few drops of water that fell from the coffee machine. “It was easier if no one knew. That meant everyone – even Fareeha. No one would come looking for me when they thought I was gone.”

Ana’s face grew wistful for a moment, her gaze casting a look down at her hands holding the cup. A corner of her mouth turned up, almost in a smile, but not really.

“And as for this old thing…I was on a recon mission.” She began, trying to perceive the events of the past from within her tea. “It was a long time ago. I was still struggling with depth perception then.” She laughed to herself.

Even still, after all the pain she’d gone through, Ana was still in there, laughing in the face of danger. Laughing at herself. It had been a joke within the Overwatch ranks that the woman would never die, because she had the ability to come back from anything.

Reinhardt felt his heart twinge with something like irony in mourning her death. All in all, he should have known better.

“Well, as you can imagine, I was caught out of position. He almost got me, too, but I was able to hit him with a sleep dart and get away with only minor injuries. Only later, after I was alone and able to patch myself up did I realize that one of the bullets had gone right through my bag, shattering my cup.”

It was clear that Ana had suffered a great deal from the weight of the memory on her shoulders. Reinhardt considered grasping at her hands, else he thought she may drop and shatter the cup a second time.

The woman fell quiet before lifting her hands and placing her tea back on the countertop. Her arms snaked their way around her body protectively and her eye darted about the room, everywhere except looking at him.

“I was devastated,” she began to elaborate. “That cup was the last thing connecting me to any happy memory I’d had. I’d lost Overwatch, Fareeha, you…what do you fight for when everything you have is so broken?”

Her voice started to crack and Reinhardt thought that if he hadn’t known better, he’d have thought she might start to cry. She held tight to herself, closing her eye and drawing in a deep, dark breath before pushing out a long and painful exhale. Her eyelid opened once more, staring a hole into the floor.

“And then came the recall, from Winston. By that time my wounds from the attack had healed. I kept every piece of the teacup with me, carrying it around as a memento of what I’d lost and what I could never get back. I was dead to all of you, my one true purpose in life a failure.”

His face contorted into a grimace at that thought.

“Ana, that is not…true, we --”

She placed a finger to his lips, hushing him. She was good at that.

“But one day, while on a mission in Hanamura, I saw a pot that had been shattered in all different places, just like my cup. But, instead of mourning the loss of the pot, its owner had taken the pieces and put them back together with gold in between the cracks.

The broken pot did not mean that the pot could no longer serve its purpose. It meant that it had gone through experiences that had broken it and brought it back stronger than before. And for me, it should be the same. I am old now, and things happened in my life that have broken me. But it does not mean that I cannot still serve my purpose, protecting those that I hold dear.”

Her body seemed to relax as she stood for a moment, reflecting on everything she had told him. He could see a faint smile play across her features as she once more reached to move a finger around the gold rim of the teacup.

“And so it is,” she sighed after a long pause. “I put the cup back together again. I put myself back together again, and decided that I would answer the recall to Overwatch. Even if Fareeha was furious with me for leaving her and would never see me again, I would go on protecting the world she lives in. The world we all live in. Because it…” She shrugged her shoulders. “…it is my purpose.”

Reinhardt had never wanted to take this woman into his arms more. He had thought her dead, gone forever, and still he had not felt his love grow stronger than that of this moment. His hands clenched and relaxed and his muscles tensed and his insides burned for something, to do something… and he felt stupid for not knowing what.

“And as for you --” she added, her tittering laugh akin to a hummingbird fluttering its wings, “Well, I figured that if you’d forgotten about me and --”

“Ana,” The scolding growl that interrupted her sounded far more menacing then the hurt eyebrows knitting themselves on his forehead. “And here I thought you to be sensible.”

She said nothing, just looked up at him with a raised eyebrow, one gleaming ocher eye staring deep into his blue one. He managed a small chuckle, though it came out a bit more solemn than he would have liked.

The crusader, longing to be near her, closed a smidgeon of the gap between them, his hand reaching out to brush his thumb against the Horus tattoo on her cheek. “You must be speaking nonsense if you were to think that I would forget you for even a second.”

After all the years of holding it in, the words coming from him felt like a weight being lifted from his chest. Never had he dreamt that he would be able to tell her in person a fraction of the things he felt for her. Sure, the two of them were known to flirt, but after losing her, saying those things in a joking manner felt wrong. Especially because he had suffered so much with the regret of not telling her about just how much she meant to him. Or about how after her death, he refused to sleep for weeks. Or how when he finally did sleep, he dreamed of himself waking in the middle of the night to find her basking in the moonlight. Or how much it hurt waking up again, alone. About how for years after her passing, he’d taken up alcohol, his only solace in the twisted realm that was his world without her near.

His arm fell again when Ana took in a sharp breath of air as if to say something else, but decided against it as she turned to pick up a nearby spoon. She fished out her tea bag and placed it on the saucer underneath, then raised the cup to her lips, almost as if eager to escape into the liquid. Then, abruptly, she hesitated.

One blue eye stared unwavering as she lowered the cup from her lips again, her expression gleaning nothing he could determine.

“I have wasted so many years, Reinhardt.” She mused, placing her tea back on the saucer. “I am old now.”

“So am I.” He replied, without missing a beat. He could see now what she was thinking. “But, it is as you say. Despite everything, our purpose remains.”

She glanced sidelong at him, the corner of her eye catching his form.

“I am unsure of what you are getting at.”

A large, callused hand enveloped hers, and carefully he genuflected to press a fleeting kiss to her knuckles.

“You know how…cowardly I can be in matters of the heart.” He explained as she took a few steps near him. “If that cup you've kept serves as any memory.”

Her soft skin tasted good, he thought, immediately chiding himself afterwards and throwing the thought to the back of his mind for him to reflect upon later.

“You might need to jog my memory of how it ended.” Her voice was teasing, and despite how he flushed at the comment – because he, in intricate detail, could remember how it ended – was glad to have Ana Amari in good graces again, if only for the moment.

Slender arms found their way around his neck and she pressed her forehead to his, the Horus relying on its loyal protector while it rested its watchful eye.

“Mein maus…” he whispered, his voice deep and rough. Her scent wafted through him, his senses filling with the smell of scented oils and tea leaves that lingered on her skin. She lifted her head to rest in his hair while he made himself comfortable under her neck, letting go of a contented sigh.

“Asad, my knight,” his body rumbled with contentment upon hearing her dark, sultry voice. Thin fingers played through his white locks as his thumbs traced rubbing patterns into her back. “I have missed you so.”

“And I you.”

There was a small pause, her fingers continuing their exploration.

“I…am sorry for not coming sooner. For not telling you I was alive. I must have caused you great pain, Reinhardt.”

“Ah,” he responded, lifting her into his arms and rounding the counter to seat her at a nearby couch before sitting himself. “Don’t worry yourself. It was difficult without you, but nothing makes me happier than having you here again.”

She laughed under her breath, keeping eye contact with the man beside her.

“But please, promise me one thing – that if you ever find yourself broken again, let me help you. Let me be the gold that keeps you together.”

Her expression looked slightly surprised at the comment before it softened entirely, taking in what he'd said. Carefully, her small form crawled delicately into Reinhardt's lap to place lingering kisses along his furry jawline.

“I'll do my best to remember that.” He could feel her whisper into his neck.

For a long while after that, he made sure to cradle her as they talked, careful that she wouldn't disappear if he were to wake up from another dream. They chatted and joked and flirted, as they always had – the tea left cold and forgotten on the countertop.

Brigette was always one of the first people to wake in the morning, regardless of what time she went to sleep. It was a credit to her work ethic, she surmised – she was always ready and willing to return to her life's work. Roused with the thought of brewing some coffee, she rolled out of bed, grabbed a book she had been reading, and tiptoed her way downstairs as not to disturb any of the others.

She turned the corner into the common room to stop abruptly in her tracks.

The couple, Reinhardt and his late-night guest, could not have been comfortable sleeping the way they were. They were tangled up in each other, legs interlocking while Ana used his arm he had wrapped around her as a pillow. Both faces looked entirely serene, though, Reinhardt snoring as softly as she'd ever heard him, with one of Ana’s hands precariously placed underneath his shirt. A long, thin blanket covered them both, completing the scene.

At first, Brigette thought to take a picture. Think of all the things she could get away with if she had this kind of leverage in her back pocket! Reinhardt would let her do anything! But then, she thought, taking a step to round the corner out of the common room again, she had better not. She'd not seen her partner so contented in a long time.

She decided instead that coffee would wait, and sat by the foot of the stairs before opening her book. She would see to it that they were not disturbed – after all, the squire should not mettle with the affairs between a knight and his queen.

[yuzuria]

whatever points u havent done yet, if it's fandom then gntm

heeey nice, thank u bio-chan :*

under the cut because this is gonna be long, i know you want only gntm but i took the liberty to add my dr opinions bc i won’t prob have this opportunity to voice them out prompted (not rly) in the future

a - ships that you currently like a lot. (they don’t have to be otps because not everyone has otps.) friendships, pairings, threesomes, etc. are allowed.

the otp atm is obviously komahina, it’s incomparable for me, i’ve been in rare otp fandoms for years so it’s like being enveloped by a fresh sea breeze when i got into it, it’s the most popular ship in dr, has the most fan content where the good ones outweighs the bad ones, and their relationship was fulfilling, it’s also the closest otp of mine that has reached canon.

other ones i love a lot right now are:

dr ships: hinata/servant (it’s komahina but i’m so invested in this dynamic in particular and there’s almost no content for it), kamukura/komaeda, kaede/miu, tenko/mikan, kirigiri/sayaka, touko/komaru, sonia/akane, lowkey shinguuji/amami and pekoyama/koizumi

dr friendships i’m invested and want to see more: komaeda/sonia, komaeda/kirigiri, komaeda/any girls tbh let him have platonic relationships with girls, familial komaeda/monaka, amami/kaede, hinata/natsumi, tsumiki/asahina, sakura/asahina, dr1 girls

gintama ships: tae/sacchan, kagura/nobume, takasugi/zura, kyuubei/tsukuyo (guess which ones are your influence)

hnk ships: diamond/bortz, ghost quartz/lapis lazuli, rutile/padparadscha, cairgorm/phos, cinnabar/phos

c - a ship you have never liked and probably never will.

dr: all het ships minus celesgami but i also grew out of it eventually, they’re all mediocre at best and i dislike the popular hetero ones-- namely, naegiri, hinanami, kamunami, kuzupeko, sondam, souda/sonia, akanidai, saimatsu, kaimaki.. also i never saw the appeal of chishimondo and the pairs involving the three. mahiyoko is forced in my opinion and their “moment” which gained them an alternate title “soapies” was distasteful. soudam is simply boring while i dislike hinadam out of spite. nobody asked but my most hated ships are komaegi, komamiki, hinaegi, kamuegi, and komahinaegi (stay those out of my sight)

gintama: shinsengumi centric ships, joui centric ships minus sakagin and takazura (i entertained the idea of the former but never beyond platonic), gintoki/every girls minus tae, sakamutsu, hijimitsu, tsukisachi, mutsumata, bantaka, takahiji, konzura, the gross pedophilic ones, okikagu, kamusoyo, sabunobu, ginshin, etc

d - a pairing you wish you liked but just can’t.

i don’t really have pairings i “wish” i liked because i know what i love and what i don’t tho the hnk one is an exception, i think i have the need to say that,, but i guess i feel envious with the content victuuri is getting i wished i i liked it so i have a lot of merch to buy whenever i go to cons but nah... im happy with my own otp

e - have you added anything cracky/hilarious to your fandom? if so, what?

i don’t even know if they’re considered hilarious, probably annoying which are a lot in my twitter, this one is my fav wholesome headcanon though

this one is my first dr post which somehow has the most notes i have ever gotten

i don’t think i have one in gntm

f - what’s the longest you’ve ever been in a fandom?

i’m not active in atla but it’s basically my first fandom and i still love and enjoy the fandom content so yeeep

g - have you ever had an otp? if so, do you remember your first one? who was in it?

embarrassing but toph/aang

h - what is your favorite source text for fandom stuff (e.g., tv shows, movies, books, anime, western animation, etc.)?

anime but most of the time it’s just a way for me to get into a fandom and i usually like the source material (manga, games, etc) more

m - name a character that you’d like to have for a friend.

anego

n - name three things you wish you saw more or in your main fandom (or a fandom of choice).

gintama: tae fighting and an arc of her own, gags with nobume or takasugi, in general less of that blue pubes and more about girls without their respective dudes’ influences which suck because the girls are amazing yet the arcs they’re centered in still revolves around dudes i am so tired

dr: more focus on asahina :/, kirizono and kaemiu content pleaaase, and komaeda making friends other than his boyfriend??? 

o - choose a song at random. which ship or character does it remind you of?

I got Lucky Stars by Lana Del Rey, yeeep, komahina

p - invent a random au for any fandom (we always need more ideas).

i’ve always wanted spies/mafia au with best gintam girls, guns and aesthetic black or white clothing or military clothing whatev keeps me going 

q - a fandom you’ve abandoned and why.

sports anime fandom, i used to be in multiple sports anime fandom but after getting into gintama i dropped all of them and lost interest,, give me sports anime girls you coward... other than basketball or volleyball idk moe catastrophe or the most “feminist” game of the century that is keijo

r - which friendship/platonic relationship is your favorite in fandom?

sasaki/nobume, kagura/tae, and gint*ki/tama in gintama

komaeda/monaka in dr

s - show us an example of your personal headcanon (prompts optional but encouraged)

my default headcanon is all my fav girls are lesbians

after sasaki’s death, rather than going with the shinsengumi or military in general i want nobume to stay with the yorozuya

nobume becomes a transfer student in 3Z and wears a black sailor uniform with long skirts, sports a nailed bat, and an honor student. sasaki adopted her from young age and is the most doting father ever during the festivals and always cheering for her, “yes that’s my elite daughter, nobume-san” i teared up. kagura, on the other hand, had a growth spurt in the middle of their third year so she looks like her yorozuya movie design with her glasses up and taller than nobume.

i have a hc how komaeda/hinata/kamukura would look like as girls too

komaeda: has a long messy hair, wears the same clothing as the regular one (pants and not those sexy short shorts with thigh highs and garter belt, regular komaeda would wear that though ;) ), petite and still 180 cm

hinata: same hair, around 165 cm, regular bust size and has strong arms that can carry her tall gf, pretty packed, wears skirts with suspenders

kamukura: same features as hinata but her long hair is tied in a low ponytail, then same clothing

t - do you have any hard and fast headcanons that you will die defending? 

kagura never had interests with boys and when she grows up that’s where she realizes she’s a big lesbian and in love with nobutasu ;;

komaeda feels EXTREME distaste towards memes and puns, he doesn’t like them at all, he leans in a poetic side when he speaks, make him a pretentious john green character than a meme fuck (remember when he said if the sunflower is the symbol of hope then he’s the ground where the roots cling on?? and also one of his few hated gifts is a ring with a bad pun??)

w - a trope which you are virtually certain to hate in any fandom.

girls who only serve as a plot device especially a manpain, bonus point if she’s pining on the said dude but ends up being sacrificed for the dude

MC dude whose dick wants to be sucked by almost everyone, it’s tiring and gross

pedophilic themes

moe slash fantasy slash harem slash romantic comedy slash ecchi

pretentious characters with god complex

y - what are your secondhand fandoms (i.e., fandoms you aren’t in personally but are tangentially familiar with because your friends/people on your dash are in them)?

v*ltron unfortunately

saiyuuki a bit bc of you and emilia

fire emblem/persona (i played some games but never finished it so i mostly don’t feel too attached with them)

some other video games

kpop