#there is a new mystery afoot

[tailschannel]

Take a look at The Murder of Sonic the Hedgehog, a playable visual novel developed by the @sonicthehedgehog social media team.

Just in time for this year's April Fools celebrations, The Murder of Sonic the Hedgehog give the player the ability to "interrogate some of your favorite characters as you figure out what happened to Sonic."

It's Amy Rose's birthday, and she's hosting a murder mystery party on the Mirage Express! When Sonic the Hedgehog becomes the game's victim, everyone is off to get to the bottom of things. However, something feels a bit off - is this really an innocent game or is something more sinister afoot? New & familiar faces Interrogate some of your favorite characters as you figure out what happened to Sonic. Play as a new character who is starting their first day working on the Mirage Express, and meet the kind Conductor who is finally retiring from his long run with the train!

All aboard! Immerse yourself in the sights and sounds of the Mirage Express, featuring fully hand-drawn landscapes and characters. Canon or Headcanon? You know what they say: everything is canon*. *This is not a Sonic Team title, but we strongly believe in the power of headcanon!

The game was written by Ian Mutchler, with credits to Justin Thormann and executive producer Katie Chrzanowski. Greg Batha was the lead designer and programmer. Art was directed by Ellen Alsop. Character art directed by Min Ho Kim. Michal Shafrir was the producer and project manager.

The Murder of Sonic the Hedgehog is available now on Steam for free.

[runningdoggames]

YOUR GOD IS DEAD, and you’re the unlucky soul tasked with figuring out who killed em. As sheriff, you are working to uncover the truth behind this tragedy before your parish’s rage boils over and makes the situation even worse. There’s someone or something on the loose that can kill a god, and it’s hard to know who to trust nowadays. You know you can rely on your horse, your gun, your faith, and your lawman’s intuition. Ride carefully, partner. There’s trouble afoot.

I’m super excited to announce that my new solo journaling game is now published - you can find it here! This game was made for the Hints & Hijinx Jam hosted by @pandiongames. If you’re interested, I encourage you to check out other entries - this system is super fun to play (and to write!).  WHO KILLED GOD? is a solo mystery game of divine catastrophe and small-town suspicion in a Weird West setting. This book has prompts and mechanics to help guide you, but it is up to you to follow the clues to wherever they lead, whether that's to redemption or ruin. You play as your town's sheriff, trying to find the party or parties responsible for the death of your god. You will explore various locations around town, meet with townsfolk, and attempt to gather evidence while getting yourself out of tricky predicaments and tight spots. At the end of the game, you'll find out whether or not you were right.

[depthsasunder-if]

Depths Asunder is an 18+ pirate interactive fiction infused with magic. It follows you, a young and fresh pirate captain, contracted to find a gem that is rumored to manipulate life and death to the wearer. It's a race against other crews who are just as determined to fulfill the contract and collect their riches.

[DEMO TBA] 𓊝 [CHARACTER POSTS]

Content warnings include violence, suggestive themes, substance use, gore, dark themes, emotional turmoil and more.

Your mother was a legend in the seas; a revered pirate captain, her legacy has followed you even after her death. All you want is to live up to the legacy she has given your family name, though all you've amounted to so far is the occasional thievery to survive.

When you're contracted by rich and powerful noble you're promised a swell of riches. In return, you must find and bring back a rare treasure that holds power beyond anything you know. Countless crews have attempted to find it, only to either end up dead or lost.

Now, it's your turn to collect your crew and bring your ship to the sea. You'll go up against not only dangerous mythological creatures of the sea but other ruthless pirates determined to find the treasure before you.

As you travel through the world of Sikara, you'll find that there's an even bigger mystery afoot. Will it all be worth it?

Customize your pirate captain from identity, your nickname, pronouns, gender which changes the story, appearance, personality.

Decide what kind of pirate captain you are: are you a bloodthirsty pirate hellbent on destruction? Or a merciful captain paving a new path? Do you treat your crew with kindness or hostility? Are you relaxed or a dictator?

Customize your ship: name your ship, choose the look, the features and enchantments. Will it help you during your sea battles?

Stop at different locations: will you raid like a typical pirate or help the locals? Will you steal treasure?

Customize your crew and decide who joins you on your journey. And who walks the plank.

Romance a slew of characters that include your ruthless rival, a merperson, a stowaway, the person who contracted you, and your best friend.

Play a character-driven narrative that is both on land and in sea. Discover what Sikara has to offer.

Captain Morgan 'Deadeye' Price [m or f]: Morgan is the bloodthirsty captain of the Lady Triton. They also happen to be your biggest rival, seeing as they're the child of the pirates that killed your mother. Morgan is bloodthirsty, unforgiving, cold and arrogant, and is determined to find the treasure. Part of you thinks they care less about the coin and more about beating you....and eventually killing you.

𓊝 enemies to lovers, rivals

Anton/Antonia St. Marteen [m or f]: The nobleman/woman who contracted you. They insisted on joining you on your travels, determined to see the treasure for themself. You don't know much about them other than the fact that they are stinking rich, which is all you need to know. Unfortunately, being on the sea with them means you're their unofficial bodyguard.

𓊝 bodyguard romance (MC is the bodyguard), forbidden, opposites attract (noble and pirate)

Castor Morgana [m or f]: the stowaway that hid in your ship alongside their sister, Ruth. Majority of your crew wants them thrown overboard, though a few think Castor can be helpful to the cause. It's up to you to make the final choice.

Gaelin 'Straightlace' Haval [m or f]: your best friend, second-in-command, and advisor. Gaelin is levelheaded, logical, serious, and deals little with emotion. They also seem to be the only one who cares little of pirate culture. They just want the mission done.

𓊝 best friends to lovers, opposites attract (possibly)

Sage/Soren of The Sea [m or f]: a mermaid/merman who, in a series of events, ends up on your ship. It's lucky that they grow legs off-sea, but no matter how human they look, they treat you as an enemy. Pirates and merpeople don't mix, and Sage/Soren is determined to keep a distance, even if the world of humans interests them so. They don't trust you, not with all the blood that's been spilled from both sides.

𓊝 romance with merperson, forbidden, doomed romance

Ruth Underwood [non-RO]: Castor's younger half- sister. She seems to have taken a liking to you, following you around like a puppy. How you deal with her is up to you.

+ and more!

Development of Depths Asunder will fluctuate based on my free time. I hope you like it and join me on this voyage :)

[astral-multiverse]

A Toontastic Murder Mystery is Afoot!

@smashingveteransandnewcomers

After the whole incident with the Blue Monkey Diamond and a little inner drama at the Warner Bros. Studio, our trio of Toon-friendly heroes went on with their lives as normal. However, they would soon find themselves in the middle of another incident: A murder mystery surrounding a particular Toon and the beloved owner of Toontown. We join our heroes as they were en route to a new city

"Maroon Cartoon Studios. I heard about this place from Mom and Dad" Brandon said

"Yeah, said to be a popular place for Hollywood stars and Toons alike. Surprised they're actually letting us into the place" Bella said

[couldtheycatchkira]

Hello? Hello, can you all hear me? This is now a live broadcast. We are assembling, as you may call it, a suicide squad to solve the untraceable murders of the serial killer now known as Kira. It is your job to vet these candidates as a group, and determine if these individuals (or groups of individuals) could truly catch Kira, and bring an end to his reign of terror.

...Out of keyfabe, this is a Death Note fanblog where literally all I do is post a random character and ask you all to sort them into one of four categories:

Could catch Kira, would survive: This character has not only managed to determine Kira's identity, but also lived to tell the tale! This COULD imply arrest, but it's just as likely that Kira dies mysteriously as well.

Could not catch Kira, would survive: This character did not determine Kira's identity, but they survived regardless! Since this involves them being on the case actively, this could imply that Kira was not arrested and Kira died without any payoff... perhaps.

Could catch Kira, would not survive: This character was thorough in their investigation and managed to determine Kira's identity! Unfortunately, Kira cottoned on, and decided they were too much of a liability... Or perhaps they simply wrote their own name in the Death Note, to prove a point to a new investigator. Not all things are so simple, it seems...

Could not catch Kira, would not survive: Poor, guileless investigator... Kira remained out of their grasp, and they died for their trouble. People who sort their favorites into this group certainly are pragmatic, eh? Still, a sacrifice could galvanize an investigation...

The game is afoot, of course! There's not quite a prize for being in any of these groups, but it is a fun thought exercise, is it not? Feel free to reblog any and all posts, of course. Now, let's see who can catch Kira and live to tell the tale, eh? And let's see for whom Kira remains out of their grasp...

((Before submitting, please look at the linked spreadsheet below and the FAQ here!))

Edit: Due to a wide amount of duplicate requests (and a rather genius suggestion from @archerestarcher), there is now a Google Document archiving each and every poll on the blog! This list will be updated daily, so if a recent poll or results post is not reflected as such on the blog, it will happen soon regardless! Access the spreadsheet below!

[thats-not-okie-dokie]

WELCOME HOME MARCH 9TH UPDATE SPOILERS!!

The WH update was INCREDIBLE! Half of the merchandise page was brand new, a 20 minute audio starring Wally and Barnaby, and a few other songs around for the characters? DAMN, ALL OF THEM CAN SING! And don't even get me started on the designs of the advertisements and records and cookbooks! They feel so authentic, and you can tell so much love and attention to detail was put into each and every one of them. ALSO HOWDY'S FAMILY? THEY HAVE DESIGNS AND VOICES NOW?? YO- I can only imagine how long THAT script took to write! And Julie is officially confirmed to have paws! I wasn't expecting that, or for her to hibernate, but I find those details really cool. Makes me wonder if rainbow monsters are any related to bears? ALSO, Wally can sing too! I was under the impression that he struggles to stay on-key with his delivery, but I was wrong. And I am happy to be wrong, too! I've already listened to his rendition of Toyland like, 4 times. Poppy's voice is so sweet and soft-spoken when she's not terrified or nervous, and I'm so glad to be able to hear how she speaks normally. SHE HAS THE VOICE OF AN ANGEL I CAN LISTEN TO IT ALL DAY, WHERE'S THE COOKING CHANNEL? And Sally trying to be the star of the show by replacing the one on the Christmas tree, oh my word I admire her pettiness. And that silly rendition of Up On The Housetop is going to be on my mind all day hehehe

ALSO, there's a new mystery afoot! On the very last page of the merchandise book, there's a code cracker on the back of the Christmas edition cereal box (thanks, Eddie!). I've managed to decrypt every single doodle across the website, but it definitely still need some further decryption. I'm thinking it might be either a Ceasar encryption or needs to be descrambled. I'm not sure if it's supposed to be a message, or a website link. The "WWW" is really throwing me off. I thought I'd leave this to the professionals, since I'd be scratching my head for hours if I tried to solve this any further. I already tried reversing it 2 kinds of ways and playing around with the letters, as well as putting it into a Ceasar decoder and trying every way to brute force the combination, if it's a message. Still nothing. I'm not good with these types of things, but I'm hoping somebody else is. Good luck!

And here's every letter I've found, in the order the pages are on the home page:

MIOA FSNE W AR YG Y T E PYER N WWW

[alexzalben]

Here's the key art and character descriptions for The Boys spinoff Gen V:

Jaz Sinclair plays Marie Moreau, an 18-year-old superhero with the ability to control and weaponize her own blood. As an incoming freshman at Vought-run Godolkin University, she is eager to prove she has what it takes to join The Seven, but is sidetracked by a mystery she begins to unravel at the school.

Chance Perdomo plays Andre Anderson, a junior at Godolkin University with magnetic powers. He’s Golden Boy’s best friend and the son of famous superhero, Polarity; Andre has big shoes to fill as he’s set to take over the Polarity name once his dad retires. When Andre realizes that something is afoot at the school, he takes it into his own hands to try and figure out the mystery.

Lizze Broadway plays Emma Meyer, who is also known by her superhero name, Little Cricket, for her ability to get super small. Though insecure and naive, which often leaves her in compromising positions, she becomes close friends with her freshman roommate, Marie, and together they navigate the mysterious dangers at Godolkin University.

Shelley Conn plays Indira Shetty, the dean of Godolkin University. She doesn’t have powers, but her background in superhero psychology and her peerless ability to analyze what makes supes tick make her indispensable to the school. Her goal is to transform Godolkin University into the most elite college for supes and she takes a special interest in Marie when she arrives on campus.

Maddie Phillips plays Cate Dunlap, a junior at Godolkin University who is good friends with Jordan and Andre. Cate is able to push people to do anything she commands using the touch of her hands, which she uses to her advantage. Powerful and confident, she’s also Luke’s girlfriend, making her one of the most popular supes on campus.

London Thor and Derek Luh play Jordan Li, a competitive student at Godolkin University who will do anything to get to the top. They have a unique ability of changing between male and female forms, through which different powers manifest— the man is dense and indestructible, while the woman is agile and can launch energy blasts. Their distinct sets of powers make them a standout TA at Brink's School of Crime Fighting.

Asa Germann plays Sam, a troubled supe who is desperately trying to escape his unfortunate circumstances. He’s extremely powerful, with super strength and invulnerability. Despite having a good heart, he’s plagued by his hallucinations, which sometimes make it hard for him to discern between what is—and is not—reality.

Patrick Schwarzenegger plays Luke Riordan, who is also known by his superhero name, Golden Boy, because of his ability to light his entire body on fire. He is a senior at Godolkin University and is in the top rank, having the brightest prospects of joining The Seven.

Sean Patrick Thomas plays Polarity, Andre’s father and largely celebrated Godolkin University alumnus and trustee. Polarity expects his son to follow in his footsteps by taking over the Polarity name when he retires. He believes Andre is destined for The Seven and will stop at nothing to make his dream become reality.

Clancy Brown plays Professor Rich “Brink” Brinkerhoff, a renowned professor of crime fighting at Godolkin University who taught superheroes such as A-Train, Queen Maeve, and The Deep. He is dedicated to finding the top new talent at Godolkin University to join The Seven, and believes Golden Boy has what it takes to be next.

Marco Pigossi plays Dr. Edison Cardosa, a gifted doctor with ties to Godolkin University

[lurkingshan]

Japanese QL Corner

ICYMI: There are so many Japanese qls airing weekly, so I’m going to start posting this little round up at the end of each week. Most of these shows are on Gaga and I highly recommend watching!

Chaser Game W

We've reached the stage with this one where I'm just gonna say we should keep watching for the ratings and enjoy the pretty gifs.

Tsukuritai Onna to Tabetai Onna 2

I got to watch episodes 5-8 of the new season this week, and I promptly lost my mind over how good this show is. It somehow got even better between seasons; the creators have some things to say about the experiences of women under heterosexual patriarchy. I already wrote about Kasuga's family trauma storyline and how much it meant to me, but these episodes also gave us Nomoto's ongoing queer awakening and journey to define her sexuality, the introduction of a new queer bestie in Yako, a better understanding of Nagumo and the careful and steady deepening of her relationship with the gals, a new confidant for Kasgua in Fujita, and Nomoto and Kasuga inching ever closer to defining what they are to each other. The world of the show and the support network around our leads continues to expand, and I am loving every moment. This drama is excellent and I cannot implore you enough to go to @furritsubs and catch up.

My Strawberry Film

Kicking off the last Drama Shower show of the season! This is a high school story featuring a classic trio—the Pining Gay, the Chaos Bisexual, and the Budding Lesbian. Obviously, I love them. I like the mood of this one—it's quite a tonal shift from the last show in this series—and the color grading is blue, blue, blue. And there's a mystery afoot as they try to track down the beautiful girl captured on film. Looking forward to more!

Sukiyanen Kedo Do Yaro ka

I continue to love this show, though I am not entirely sure how I feel about the turn things took with Mizuki this week. I did not really want this to go the full blown love triangle route; I am more interested in a version of this story where Sakae and Soga try to figure out these adult complications from the foundation of being in a relationship, not with the constant interference of a third party. So few dramas are willing to get the couple together early and let them face things together rather than constantly playing the will they, won't they game, and I was hoping Sukidoya was going to be one of them. That said, I like that Mizuki is sticking around in the story because he's an interesting character, and I like the conflict with Soga's job (we have a preponderance of Japanese shows about unreasonable work conditions airing atm) and the temporary nature of his time in Osaka. That he's worried about eventually leaving tells you all you need to know about how much he likes and respects Sakae. If he felt casual about him he would not be worried about complications that far down the timeline. Let's see where they take this love triangle thing next week; I'm hoping it will be brief.

Perfect Propose

Great episode this week, and I love the way they continue to deepen the backstory for these two. Hiro being the first person to need Kai rather than pity him makes so much sense for their dynamic and why Kai would be so attached to him. And of course, when Kai returns the situation is the same; Hiro definitely still needs him. I love that they took a source of shame for Hiro and turned it into a reason why he and Kai are so compatible. Kai wants to take care of him—and he's not the only one! Loved seeing Hiro's coworkers express concern for his well-being and recognize how this job is grinding him down and breaking his spirit. It was so validating to hear from another high performer that the job is miserable and he should quit. It has nothing to do with failure; as Kaneko said, it's about seeking the life he truly wants. He sees Hiro's talent and knows he will not be able to flourish in this hellish work environment, and I thought it was so kind and compassionate of him to try to help Hiro see that. Also shoutout to Hiyori for sitting her ass back down and missing the last train when she realized prime gossip was about to arrive to her table, she's just like me fr.

Ossan's Love Returns

We are clearly in the drama spiral for the season now, and this show seems to be coming for my beloved Kurosawa. Thanks, I hate it! But the show found its humor again this week even as the sad plotlines for the side characters continued, and I was very happy to see it back in top form. I loved this story with Maki and Haruta caring for Goro for the week, and how it affirmed for them that they are actually not interested in having children. I told @bengiyo and @twig-tea when we saw last week's preview that Maki seemed like the type who wouldn't like children, and I was glad to see that affirmed by the show, and crucially, that he didn't change his mind via the power of Goro's cuteness. Not all people want to be parents, and it's so nice and refreshing to see a loving couple decide they just want to focus on each other, and that you can like kids and spend time with them without needing to have one of your own. I loved, too, that we got some focus on Chizu's struggles as a single mom, and her family rallied around her and made it clear she has support. Takegawa's sudden not-at-all-selfishly-motivated interest in polyamory was hilarious, as was Chief's journey to figure out what was causing his stress—until it wasn't, of course. I was glad Chuoko was with him when he got the news. And I am really hoping that rooftop kiss was Kiku's goodbye, and we will be seeing him move on from Izumi soon.

Bonus: Kimi no Koto Dake Mite Itai 

Shoutout to @my-rose-tinted-glasses for giffing this show and reminding me I still hadn't seen it! It was not accessible to me back when it came out and it fell off my radar for awhile. I watched today and thought it was just delightful. A short, sweet, warm hug of a friends to lovers high school bl with two very lovable leads. I highly recommend checking it out.

[swissmissficrecs]

Johnlock fics I read in 2023

This is everything I read in the Sherlock Holmes fandom last year that made it into my bookmarks. So while I may not have read enough to make a selected "best of" list, consider these the ones that made it past all my internal selection criteria and are deserving of a spotlight. A few of these were completed prior to 2023.

A Case of You by Silvergirl (17K, M, Johnlock, Sherlock/OMC) Sherlock is marrying an American, and at the rehearsal dinner, best man John makes a drunken love confession he doesn’t remember the next day. Badly hungover, John can't find anyone to tell him what the hell happened to the wedding, where the grooms are, or how he can put it right so that Sherlock can be happy. But what if he's dead wrong about what will make Sherlock happy?

A Midnight Clear by khorazir (16K, T, Johnlock) It’s Christmas Eve, and Sherlock is working. Because that’s what he does. He doesn’t need Christmas, or holiday cheer, or even company. He’s fine on his own, thank you very much – until a series of strange encounters on his way back to Baker Street makes him reconsider.

A Story That Is Almost, But Not Quite, Entirely Unlike Blue Carbuncle by Iwantthatcoat (16K, M, Johnlock) It’s the most wonderful time of the year, and the Holmes Family is all set to have one of those unimaginable Christmas dinners— but the game is afoot, as Mummy’s friend is caught up in a Christmas mystery.

An Elegant Solution by ArwaMachine (19K, E, Johnlock) Sherlock finds himself unspeakably aroused by the idea of John with another man. Problem is, the only man Sherlock will permit be with John is Sherlock himself. Seems like an unsolvable problem. ... or is it?

An Ocean Away by westernredcedar (14K, T, Johnlock) Sherlock Holmes has been gone for twenty long years, time enough for John Watson's daughter to make it all the way to Harvard University.

Avast Ye Merry Gentlemen by StellaCartography (10K, E, Johnlock) Sherlock is not a Christmas person. John decides it's Christmas that needs changing.

Bright Blue Ink by 13_33 (13K, G, Johnlock, Warstan) When one of my patients asks me about my relationship with Sherlock Holmes, the great detective, I answer this: I am his chronicler, his assistant in solving crimes, his confidant and friend. Of course, all these terms hold true, now as then, at the beginning of our shared history. But just as in a family portrait you can only see the put-on smiles and never the real faces of the people, they were only part of what made up my true relationship with Holmes. I know him, I then add; I know him well. [ACD]

Deductive Reasoning by cormorant (8K, T, Johnlock) John finds out that Sherlock has assumed for a while that their relationship was romantic, and feels like maybe he should have been notified about that.

Doting Husbands by Calais_Reno (16K, M, Johnlock) Sherlock takes on a new hobby: writing a story. If only something would happen! Takes place a year after the ending of Wooing Sherlock Holmes. He and John have been married for a year, still retired, living in Sussex.

Full Mount by ArwaMachine (54K, E, Johnlock) After Sherlock unceremoniously returns from the dead, John finds himself inexplicably angry all the time. So he does what any emotionally-constipated British man does: he joins a Mixed Martial Arts gym. As John throws himself into the sport and joins in on underground no-holds-barred brawls, situations arise that just might force John to face what is really going on underneath all the rage.

Indefinite Lines by ArwaMachine (298K, E, Johnlock) When two lines, inclined towards each other, are extended indefinitely, it is inevitable that they meet. Upon meeting, the lines become something new. Together. Perhaps it’s been like that from the beginning for Sherlock and John—their lives weaving together, inclined towards one another, moving closer and closer to something greater than themselves.

Live from the Morgue by disfictional (8K, E, Johnlock) Molly interviews Sherlock on her podcast, Live from the Morgue. John listens.

Lost In A Good Book by khorazir (68K, M, Johnlock) After chasing a criminal into a poky second-hand bookshop, John and Sherlock find themselves not only stuck in the building, but in L-space itself. With things still raw and unsettled between them after the events surrounding the Culverton Smith case, this adds another dimension to their predicament, which not only consists of finding a way out of the shop (while avoiding getting murdered by the criminal), but also to finally address the issues between them.

Nightjet by khorazir (22K, M, Johnlock) Officially deceased for eighteen months and still looking for the last remainders of Moriarty’s criminal empire, an exhausted Sherlock boards a night train in Germany to bring him to his next hunting ground. Due to a mishap with the sleeper cars, he is forced to share a compartment with a stranger – who turns out to be not quite as strange as Sherlock thought. The universe isn’t lazy, after all …

Nothing to Celebrate by DiscordantWords (30K, M, Johnlock, Warstan) Sherlock Holmes is back from the dead. Things only get worse from there.

Our Ghosts And This by LipstickDaddy (12K, T, Johnlock) An epilogue in three acts.

Primavera by Berty (9K, T, Johnlock) Italy in the springtime is as romantic as it gets but is it enough to free unspoken words and feelings after years of silence?

Salut d'Amour by ecoutes (11K, G, Johnlock) Despite Holmes claiming that my narrations of our cases were tainted with sentimentality, his preferences in music, I learned, were awfully romantic. [ACD]

Spare Parts by Raina_at (63K, E, Johnlock) Two years ago, Sherlock Holmes jumped off the roof of New London Hospital. Two months ago, he walked into John's clinic as if no time had passed at all. John hasn't seen him since. But then Sherlock knocks on John's door with a case he can't say no to, and while figuring out why the biggest manufacturer or synthetic limbs in the System is going after veterans, they also need to find out whether there's a way to fix what's broken between them.

stirringofbirds between my arms by NotusLethe (18K, E, Johnlock, Enola/Tewksbury) Over the years, John Watson gets to know his new flatmate, Sherlock Holmes, and the man's clever ward. [Enola Holmes]

Stretch by illwick (13K, E, Johnlock) Sometimes the lines get blurry. [Part 35 of a BDSM established relationship series]

The Adventure of The Reluctant Docent by mydogwatson (23K, T, Johnlock) Someone is killing the docents of London. Sherlock is on the case when he meets a very interesting docent.

The Case of the Freudian Dick Pic Slip by expoduck (11K, E, Johnlock) John accidentally sends Sherlock a dick pic he'd intended for another man.

The Mystery of the Missing Metallurgist by rudbeckia (14K, M, Johnlock) A young wife engages Holmes to find her missing husband. Lestrade thinks the man has absconded to America, but Holmes rises to the challenge of Proving Lestrade Wrong. The case turns out to be far more complex and dangerous than they first thought, and Holmes sends Watson to secure Lestrade’s help in bringing a criminal gang to justice. When Holmes gets injured, Watson realises where his heart lies and a little lighthearted banter leads to a tentative confession. [ACD]

The Silence Between the Notes by J_Baillier (44K, M, Johnlock, Viclock) Lieutenant John Watson's days in London are painted in shades of grey after losing both his military career and his family. Could an unexpected request to travel to Vienna to track down the errant son of a wealthy family break the monotony?

The Wizard of Baker Street by Calais_Reno (23K, T, Johnlock) In which Sherlock is a wizard under a curse and John spends a lot of time as a cat.

‘tis the damn season by chrysanthemumsies (22K, E, Johnlock) Sherlock and John travel to Edinburgh to catch a homophobic serial killer in time for Christmas. They figure out how to use their words, more or less.

Trapezoid by SilentAuror (27K, E, Johnlock, OMC/ OMC) Corey Graham invites John and Sherlock to visit L.A. to consult on a project… at least, officially.

Yorkshire by lurikko (8K, E, Johnlock) They're in Yorkshire, in a house in the moors, for a case, only Sherlock keeps touching John. [Omegaverse]

[megamindsecretlair]

Be My Little Darling - Chapter 12

Chapter 11 Interlude

Pairing: Loki x Black!Fem!reader / Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+. Minors DNI. You are in charge of your own reading experience. ANGST. There's ANGST. Mentions of grief, violence and suicidal ideation (please seek help, it's never a light subject). Soft Loki.

Summary: Loki is the exclusive owner of the hottest club in New Asgard. Dubbed the Nine Realms, each of the nine rooms represent a different realm. You are his second in command, working the floors and ensuring everyone is having fun. An attack on the club affects everyone, you most of all.

Word Count: 4,604k

Masterlist

A/N: See! Not too long between updates! Alsooo, had to rework some things in the outline. I don't think it's going to require all 22 chapters and I like the condensed version. I don't want a story to linger just because I can't say goodbye to it eventually. LOL. Likes are always awesome. Please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! I block ageless blogs!

Taglist: @cantstayawaycani @braverthanthenewworld @monaeesstuff @chaos-4baby @dayjlovesromance @soft-persephone @mybonafidefeelings @nerdieforpedro @browngirldominion @thecookiebratz @we-outsiiiide @foxherder @itzgabz22 @iv0rysoap

You and Loki ran towards the screaming. Your heart leapt in your throat. Was there no end to this bullshit? Your headache from earlier only increased tenfold. The shrill, loud screaming grated on your nerves. Working here was becoming a dangerous hazard. Once you found this blasted saboteur, you’d have to worry about people leaving this job. 

Responsibilities were starting to stack like those colorful block things Midgard children played with. The blocks would topple soon though. Some errant wind or careless leg would crash into it and bring the whole thing crashing down.

Would you survive it? 

The screaming was coming from the Helheim room. Patrons and performers were leaving the room, shrieking with a terror reserved for their worst nightmares. The entrance was surrounded by dark smoke but there were no alarms and the sprinklers weren’t on. Was it a fire?

You took a deep breath but didn’t feel anything burning. You attempted to enter, but Loki held you back. “I don’t like the way this looks,” he said. His calculating sapphire eyes took in the entrance and the people spilling out of it, but you didn’t see two of your performers. 

There was still so much screaming. You were not one to ignore it. You constructed two batons in your hands and rushed inside anyway with Loki calling after you.

The smoke was thick. Tangible in a way that let you know that magic was afoot. You called out for the staff members that were assigned to the room at the time. “Sweetie! Baby!” 

Yes, you knew the names were stupid. But Loki was terrible with names and it provided an extra layer of mystery for the patrons. Not to mention privacy. There were too many drunk tourists that you had to kick out for trying to get handsy with your wait staff. 

“Darling!” Loki called after you. You looked behind you but the smoke was too thick. Too cloying. You breathed it in and it was like sweet fog from a fog machine, except thicker and blacker. The dark decor in the room did little to help. The fog obscured everything. You couldn’t see two inches from your nose.

You coughed around the thick fog, grunting every few minutes as you ran into a table or a chair. You didn’t know how far you traveled into the room or where you were. “Call out!” You yelled. 

“Oh gods!” 

You turned to the sound. “Call out!” You yelled again. You moved to your right. If you only traveled a few feet in the room, you should be approaching the small bar area. Your stomach crashed into the corner and air whooshed out of you in a painful sigh. 

You clutched your stomach and dissolved one of the batons. You checked your stomach by feeling alone. It didn’t seem broken. And nothing cut you, you hoped.

“Darling!” Loki’s voice echoed. 

“Loki!” You yelled. 

You coughed. The fog in the room seemed to get thicker, crawling into every nook and cranny that you possessed. It went up your nose, down your throat. It burned your eyes. The coughing only got worse as you uselessly searched for your employees. 

Flashes of green light turned your attention to the far left side of the room. Whatever Loki was attempting, it did little to combat the fog. However, it was a beacon that you stumbled towards. You held out your hands to try and avoid obstacles or getting hurt in the process.

Screaming from outside of the room was still driving your headache up the wall. Everything hurt. Your heart, your head, your eyeballs. The green light continued to flicker every so often. The more you walked towards it, the more it bobbed away at the last moment. 

“Loki!” You called out.

“Darling!” Loki sounded like he was behind you, distant. The flickering green light was in front of you.

The fog must be playing tricks on you. You coughed, trying to clear it from your mouth but the chemical taste remained. “Loki!” 

The green light hovered mere feet away. You reached out your hand, prepared to grab a piece of Loki’s suit. An arm or Hel, you’d take a leg at this point. When your hand swiped through the light, Sweetie appeared. 

Her eyes glowed green, a twisted visage of anger. You screamed and tripped back, crashing over a chair, and falling into the ground with a painful thud. 

“Is this all the attention I’m worth, Loki?” Sweetie asked. Her voice sounded amplified as if she were speaking through the stereo system in the room. 

“I leave you clues to know who I am and yet all you concern yourself with is your pet?” Sweetie moved in an angry line, pacing back and forth like a warrior gearing up for a fight with a frost giant.

“Why the games? Why not reveal yourself?” You heard Loki but you didn’t see him. 

Another pair of glowing green eyes emerged from the dark fog. Baby. She joined Sweetie as they paced, of one mind and body. Similar to those jerks who attacked the club. 

“I want to see the look on your face when you figure it out. Until then, the fun must continue. But I will not be ignored!” Sweetie and Baby spoke in unison. It was creepy. It was wrong. 

Pain bloomed up your leg but you had to get up. You had to help. You got to your feet and limped towards your employees. “Sweetie!” You grabbed her hand and shook her, trying to get her attention. She had to still be in there.

Sweetie - or whoever was controlling Sweetie - tilted her head at you. Her hand came up to gently caress your cheek. 

“He will break you too,” she said, softly. 

“Sweetie, I know you’re in there. Fight it!” You yelled. You shook Sweetie but she remained stiff, strong, and unyielding. 

“It’s what he does. And you will help my revenge,” she said. The fuck was that supposed to mean? 

You moved around her, heading towards Baby. Either she closed her eyes or the entity left her because the green light went out and you could no longer see. You coughed and spread out your hands, waving your remaining baton. You didn’t want to hit either one, but maybe pain helped. 

A strong hand gripped your neck and you screamed, turning to bring your baton down. Thanos emerged from the fog, like a devilish mountain. He grinned, his purple face transforming into a satisfied smirk. 

He moved methodically around the space, illuminated by some inner glow to where you could see everything. Icy fear wrapped a bony hand around your heart and squeezed painfully. You stumbled away from Thanos.

Gold glinted off of his gauntlet. The monstrosity was half complete, filled with glowing rocks around the knuckles. “It should have been you,” he said, kindly. Patiently. You hated that most of all about him. The way he spoke as if this was some divine duty he had to perform and not the massacre it was. 

You couldn’t breathe. Combined with the thick fog, your head swam. The lack of oxygen made your steps falter. You backed away and couldn’t take your eyes off of Thanos. You tripped over something and fell hard on your ass. You patted the ground around you and clutched fabric.

The lump you tripped over felt like a body. A man by the feel of it. He wasn’t moving or breathing. Thanos continued his slow steps towards you. “It should have been you,” he said. 

Tears sprang to your eyes but did little to obscure his face. That terrible face that haunted your every waking moment. Your dreams. Your thoughts. Beside him, a figure emerged.

“No,” you gasped. Your friend, the one Thanos snapped away, stood beside Thanos as if she were his daughter. She leaned her head on his thick, protruding arm. 

“It should have been you instead of me,” she said. Her voice was just as you remembered. Clear and loud as a bell. Soft and feminine. She had thick ropes of dark hair, a small elven face, skin like butterscotch. She used to read those silly little pamphlets out loud to you while you walked to the playhouse. Gods, you missed the playhouse. You missed her.

Tears flowed freely now. You had thought of her so often, but her image had started to fade away. Asgard didn’t have those…camera things that Midgard had. There was no way to capture someone’s image except by painting their picture. 

Silly commonfolk like you and her didn’t have need for such things. Asgard seemed endless. Like a paradise in the universe. You had forever with her. Forever to live. And it was savagely ripped away. 

“It’s time to right that wrong,” Thanos said, bunching up his brow. He was so hideous. Disgusting. Hairless and cruel. 

“It’s time for you to die this time,” your best friend, Erian, said. Even thinking her name hurt. 

“No, no, no, I’m sorry!” You screamed. 

“Darling!” Loki’s voice was a distant buzz that faded too quickly. Your thoughts were wholly on Thanos and Erian walking beside him. 

You scooted along the floor. You knew better than to turn your back on an enemy but you flipped over and crawled along the floor. Your tears were a haunting, ugly thing leaking from your eyes. Snot dripped from your nose. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you mumbled.

“Look how she cowers. You’re a craven, rotten piece of trash,” Erian said. 

“I know,” you whispered. Your fingers gripped the disgusting floor as you pulled yourself towards the direction of the door. There was a faint, pale light there. Your head continued to swim. A painful throbbing made your eyes ache. Your throat burning from your mumblings and apologies and the thick fog. 

“Stop this, at once!” Loki’s voice was still too far away. You were alone. Alone. 

You would always be alone. You were too stupid, too weak, too desperate to do things right that it only turned out wrong. You couldn’t take care of your siblings. You couldn’t find your family. You couldn’t take care of the club and deduce who the saboteur was. You couldn’t get Loki to admit his feelings. And now Thanos has returned.

How did he find you? How did he know? Could he scent your uselessness across the galaxy? Had he realized his mistake? That he should have taken you and not Erian? 

You didn’t know what force propelled you forward. You longed to stop crawling. To let him take you. To let him trade your life for Erian’s. Still you moved forward. Cravens still had a tiny drive for self-preservation. Some ancient, deep knowledge in your bones told you to move forward and escape the danger.

Thanos’ taunting laugh made you shriek with fear. Your heart felt like it was going to shrivel in your chest. You didn’t have enough air to breathe let alone scream out for help. Who in the world would help you? 

Loki. Loki would help. 

All Loki cared about was himself. He was more interested in owning you, torturing you, than ever seeing you as a true partner. How could you think such a thing? That you were worthy of a god? 

You weren’t even worthy of the skin you occupied. “I’m sorry, Im sorry,” you cried. 

“Do you think I want your apology?” Erian asked. Her soft voice sounded wrong. Twisted. Cruel. 

Sobs wracked your body, making you shiver with fear. You didn’t want to be crushed under Thanos’ thumb. You thought you’d die doing something else. Perhaps in old age or in a fight. Perhaps by your own construct if anyone ever got the better of you. Not like this. Not like this.

Your thoughts were violently pulled back to the day on the ship when Thanos attacked. How his minions showed no mercy. No capability of the sort. Thor tried to fight but after dealing with Hela and Surtur, not to mention the total and complete destruction of your homeworld, he was powerless to stop him.

Thor, the golden Prince who summoned lightning, was powerless. It was laughable if it weren’t so sad. Loki attempted to fight him as well, going so far as to summon a knife to drive into Thanos’ neck. The gauntlet prevented him from doing so and Thanos blasted him against the ship’s hull, knocking him out. 

Thanos’ minions separated the rest of your people. You could smell the fear and despair in the air. There was misery and heartbreak aplenty. You clutched Erian’s hand in yours, desperate to stick together. 

You watched his minions shove people back and forth but they were paying more attention to the other side. You pushed Erian. You pushed for her to go to the other side so she would be safe. She cried and shook her head. You needed her to survive.

You tried to push your siblings as well but they clung to you instead. You tried to join Erian but there were too many hulking beings in your way. One such creature shoved you back to your side. Without warning, they turned their blasters to the opposite side and began firing.

“No!” Your scream only joined the ones on your side. The lucky ones. You watched Erian crumple into a heap on the floor and you screamed and you screamed and you screamed. 

You finally reached the entrance to the Helheim room and crawled out into the hallway. There were others there, lost in some kind of trance. Your staff’s eyes glowed green as they stalked through the halls.

The black smoke spread to the other rooms, invading like a malevolent parasite. People screamed and coughed. Pandemonium raced through the club as muzak played an upbeat song, mocking the current situation. 

“Coward,” Erian said.

“Pathetic,” Thanos said. 

You were a coward. You were pathetic. You were responsible for your best friend dying. You heard someone calling your name but you were useless. You crawled with no destination in mind as Thanos’ boots thundered behind you.

Didn’t anyone see him? Didn’t anyone hear them? Was that why everyone was screaming? Thanos’ minions must be in the club terrorizing your staff and patrons. No one would ever want to come here again. 

A keening whine left you. You cried and cried but there was no one to help. Nothing to do but wait for Thanos to catch up to you and finish what he started on that ship. 

Hands gripped your arms and tried to pull. You still had no air to scream. You fought whoever it was, fought to get away. If it was Erian, you didn’t want to go with her. She was free now. She could escape. 

“Darling, Darling,” you heard.

You were flipped over. Loki’s face swam in your eyes and you reeled away from him. “Loki, look out!” You yelled. Thanos hovered behind him. Thanos approached and smiled, bringing his gauntlet across his chest. 

“No! No! No! Not him! Take me!” You yelled with a raw, singed throat. You fought with Loki, fought to climb to your knees. 

“Darling, gods,” Loki breathed. He tried to hug you or press you to his chest. You fought him. You fought him with what little remaining strength you had left. 

“Take me! Take me! Take me!” You said, over and over. A prayer to the ancestors in Valhalla. You could not enter like this. Not dying feebly on the ground unwilling to protect yourself. You didn’t care. You’d spend eternity in Hel if it meant that Loki was alive and safe and whole. 

One of the stones on his gauntlet glowed a bright purple. Your head felt like it was being squeezed like a watermelon. You yelled, voice rough from overuse and passed out to the sound of Loki calling your name.

Sound was the first to reach you. Soft murmuring that sounded like prayer roused you and you turned to the sound. If this was Hel, it was awfully cold. You made a noise. 

Gods, you hurt. All over. Your fingers especially.

“Darling,” you heard. 

Your mouth was dry. You smacked your lips trying to work up some saliva to clear it but it was still too scratchy and raw. “Cold,” you said.

A moment later, a blanket was draped over you. You sighed.

“Darling, open your eyes. Please.”

The only person who called you Darling was Loki. And he was safe on Midgard. If you heard his voice, that must mean he was dragged to Hel with you. Your consciousness swam to the surface, fighting to get to him. 

“Safe,” you mumbled. 

Loki gripped your hand and delicately kissed your fingers one by one. “Please,” he whispered.

You were trying. Your eyes were glued shut. You tried with all of your might and was able to crack one eye open. The crust in your eye pulled your eyelashes painfully but you persisted. 

Loki smiled softly. “Thank you, Mother,” he sighed against you. He leaned his head down towards your chest and rested his cheek against you. 

“What…”

“Shh, shh, you’re safe,” he said. He lifted his head and scooted closer to you. He looked haggard. Haunted. His eyes were sunken in, ringed in dark purple ridges from lack of sleep. He grasped your hand in his, rubbing his thumb softly against your skin. He leaned down and kissed your thumb. 

You searched his eyes. “Hel?” You asked.

He grinned. “No. You’re alive. You’re alive,” he sighed, relief flooding his tone. 

You bobbed your head and it swam, roiled. You dry heaved and Loki shushed you, rubbing your hand. He told you not to move, that you were safe and sound in his office. 

Tears gathered in your eyes. “Club?” 

Loki used his other hand to gently wipe away your tears. “No one’s dead. The club stands. Figures you would be more worried about that than yourself,” he said. 

His voice was soothing, working to bring you more and more to the present. You looked down at your combined hands. He was pale and practically shaking. 

“Loki?” You rasped. 

“You fucking scared me, Darling,” he breathed against your hand. 

You licked your lips and groaned at how dry they were. What the hell happened? Sleep tugged at you however, your body too stiff and achy to deal with the present. 

“Sleep, Darling. I will be here when you wake,” he said.

“Mkay,” you mumbled. Sleep claiming you once more. 

The second time around, you were able to wake up with less difficulty. True to his word, Loki sat on the floor by his couch. His dark hair was disheveled and plastered all over his face. His suit was dusty and chalky as if he walked through plaster. 

He rested his cheek against the couch cushion, still holding your hand. This couldn’t have been comfortable for him. You watched him anyway before you woke him up. He looked like he needed sleep. 

You wanted to reach out and brush his hair from his face. Even the thought of moving hurt. Gods, you ached. 

As if Loki sensed your desire to move, he slowly blinked his eyes open. He smiled when his gaze connected with yours. 

“How are you feeling?” Loki asked.

“Like Hel spat me back out,” you croaked.

Loki laughed and kissed your hand. “Everyone is safe. The club is safe,” he said, already knowing the direction of your thoughts.

“What happened?” You asked.

Loki took a deep breath and told you about the fog that induced fear. Whatever you saw, whatever you heard, it was a hallucination. The fog affected everyone. Loki sent them home until further notice. Loki caught the shiver that ran through you at the mention of what you saw. Thanos was just an illusion? 

“I won’t ask what you saw. But you kept screaming for them to take you. What did you mean?” 

You took a deep breath and rolled your bottom lip between your teeth. “I didn’t want them to take you,” you said softly. You avoided looking at him. Loki scooted closer to you and gently raised your chin to look him in the eye.

“Hallucination or not, you will never, ever, trade your life for mine. Do you understand me?” Loki asked. His voice was gentle but his tone was harsh. His eyes pleaded with you, demanding that you understand him. 

“I can’t make that promise,” you said. Tears gathered in your eyes. When it came down to it, you would always choose him. It was stupid and girlish and you really ought to have more self-respect. “I love you too much to ever live without you.” 

Loki’s eyes widened a fraction. His nostrils flared. “You don’t know–”

“This isn’t because I almost died or got hurt. I’m telling you I love you because I do. You drive me up the fucking wall and sometimes I wanna murder you myself, but I know what I’m saying.” 

Loki placed soft lips to your hand and held that position for a long time. So long that you worried that he was trying to gather courage to tell you that he didn’t feel the same way. That these past five years were no more than a game to him. A cat playing with its favorite toy. 

Loki looked back up at you, eyes blazing. “I love you,” he said and called your name. “I love you and you’re mine. Always have been. Always will be.”

“You don’t have to say it–”

“I’m not saying it because you did. I’ve always been drawn to you, Darling. I prayed to Frigga, to…my mother. I prayed that if she let you wake up, if she let you return to me, then I would earn you. I would tell you anything you wanted to know, do anything you asked of me. Even if you asked me to leave you alone,” he said. 

“I shouldn’t have given you the ultimatum,” you said. 

“No, you were right to. I was a coward and selfish. I like the way you look at me. If I told you about Thor, I’d have to tell you all of it. And I can weather many things, Darling. Your pity is not one of them.” 

“Loki…”

“And I would rather you look at me with pity than never look at me at all.” He took a deep breath and smiled briefly. “I will tell you what happened with Thor.”

You licked your lips, at a loss. Your curiosity about it was winning against your need to assure him that you were not entitled to his secrets. You opened your mouth to tell him that; it was the right thing to do but he squeezed your hand. 

“Please. I have a vow to uphold and I want to.” 

You nodded. You weren’t going to stop him and you really were dying to know the story there. Why he snapped at you like that and looked at his brother as if he wanted to jump into the nearest black hole. 

“Thor and I didn’t leave Sakaar on the best of terms. We were always at each other’s throats growing up. Hundreds of years of resentment. I hated him when he was sent to Midgard. So pathetic. So weak. And he still managed to find happiness. It was like no matter what, the sun shined on Thor and left me it’s cold embrace.”

“We agreed to go our separate ways, in fact I tried to trick him one last time. Leave him there and escape. Make him suffer at least in some small way. For him to feel what it was like to be me for once: hopeless. We managed to leave together only to come home and deal with our sister. You know the rest.”

“Something changed with him after Thanos. He broke.” Loki shook his head as if he just realized that the word described Thor perfectly. After what you saw, you’d say it was accurate. Thor had always been loud and boisterous. The life of the party. He managed to make friends easily and make everyone feel included. He was bright. In your face.

When everyone’s eyes were drawn to him, your eyes were on Loki. On how his smile didn’t match his eyes. It seemed like the brighter Thor shone, the more Loki was forced to the shadows. Forced to move aside and make room. You knew what that was like. Your heart called out to him before he knew you existed, no matter what he said. 

Seeing Thor reduced to the town drunk, overweight, and likely depressed was horrible to watch from afar. Loki saw it up close. Felt like he had a hand in it. It hurt you to think that Loki had been carrying this by himself for so long.

“We settled here and I checked on Thor every week. But there’s too much bad blood between us. We fought, over and over. And he got worse and worse. I still show up, but Thor…let’s say it hasn’t gotten better these past five years. I wanted him to suffer but I never wanted him to break. Never. I never wished that.” 

“I believe you. But Loki, it doesn’t sound like you had anything to do with how he’s feeling now.”

“Don’t try to make me feel better about this. I’ve earned this guilt and I’ve got to make amends on my own,” he said. 

You rubbed his hand in yours. “I don’t pity you, Loki. I’m proud of you.” 

Loki tilted his head, the question hovering in his blue eyes. You smiled at him. 

“It takes a brave person to admit what you did. And braver still to face it head on week after week,” you said.

Loki sighed and shook his head. “You continue to surprise me, Darling,” he said.

You took a deep breath. “Since we’re in a sharing mood…”

You told him about Erian. You told him that even in paradise you felt lonely. Abandoned. You had family but felt like the odd sheep out. Erian helped. She was the only one who didn’t judge you for your permanent state of melancholy. She didn’t try to fix it with parties, ale, or a man. You worked in the dye house, dyeing fabrics for the palace. 

The one vice you had was visiting the playhouse. Hearing and seeing magnificent plays by brilliant writers. You told him that you thought his play was hilarious. He smiled at that. 

You told him how you pushed Erian to go to the other side to be safe. You thought your side was going to get killed. Erian’s bright light deserved to keep going on, not your black mood. 

But you only pushed her to her death. You watched as you got your best friend killed. The only one who saw you. Loved you despite your mood swings. 

“Darling,” Loki said.

“Aht, aht. I can’t make you feel better about yours so you can’t make me feel better about mine. I’ve earned this guilt,” you said. 

Throwing his words back in his face made him roll his eyes and smile. He sighed and looked at you, content to just see you. Really see you. 

“We are two fools, you and I,” he said.

“Two fools trying,” you said and smiled.

“For a night of confessions, I have one more.” He took a deep breath. You rubbed his hand and looked at him. Whatever it was, you truly felt like you could get through it together. 

“I know who the saboteur is now.”

Masterlist | Chapter 11 | Interlude

[edupunkn00b]

The Game is Afoot!

Photo by Ashni via Unsplash. Edited by edupunkn00b.

Rated: G - WC: 1036 - CW: None

Three weeks after Christmas and Logan is still working on his puzzle from Virgil. Is it any wonder why?

"The game is afoot!"

“But I thought you said Virgil’s game is a puzzle, Logie!” 

“Patton! It’s a—” The Moral Side’s head tilted far to the left, brow knit together in deep confusion. Breathing slowly through his mouth as he pinched the bridge of his nose, he nearly missed the quiver at the corner of Patton's mouth. He groaned. “Okay, okay, you got me.”

“So can I play, too?” Patton bounced on the balls of his feet, Watson scarf already tied in a neat knot around his neck.

Logan groaned again. “No, not this time, Patton.”

“Yeah, Popstar, I get to play Watson and Moriarty for this one.”

“Don’t worry, Daddy,” Remus purred from his spot behind the television. “You can help me air fry fish fingers.”

“Um, do fish have fingers?” Patton asked, his perplexed expression genuine this time.

“Doctor Who reference?” Logan asked, eyes darting up from the frayed newspaper in his hands. Christmas had been over two weeks ago and he was still working through the mystery puzzle Virgil had created for him.

The Anxious Side chuckled. “Focus, L…”

“I dunno!” the Creative Side laughed, either not hearing the other two Sides or simply ignoring them, and grabbed Patton’s hand, his new—well, formerly new air fryer tucked under one arm. The thing reeked of a mixture of pickle brine and peat, and its once pristine white plastic casing was charred and cracked on the sides. A neon green mold had begun to grow around the control panel, nearly obscuring a flashing ERR-80085. “Let’s go find out!”

Before Patton could say another word, the two had sunk out to the Imagination.

“And then there were four—err, well,” Logan cleared his throat and returned his attention to the newspaper. 

“Yes,” Janus purred from the corner of the couch. “Don’t mind us, we don’t want to play your silly little scavenger hunt—”

“It’s not just a scavenger hunt, Jay! Ugh, why do you—” Virgil cut himself off and adjusted the ties on his hoodie. “Nope, not gonna engage. Not worth it.”

“That’s right, Tall, Dark, and Stormy,” Roman agreed from the staircase. He leapt over the side of the banister with a flourish, the new gold—was that real gold?—trim clinking gently with the impact. “I shall keep the living room safe from any of Janus’ dastardly plans.”

“Oh, no, you caught me drinking wine,” Janus slurred.

“Off you go,” Roman said to Virgil and Logan, pretending not to hear Janus’ mocking. Virgil and Logan exchanged a look. Selective hearing seemed to be a tool in each of the brother’s kits. “I’ve got everything under control here.”

“If you’re sure, Princey,” Virgil began, gaze trained on Janus’ oh-so-innocent expression.

“Wait, Virgil!” Logan grabbed his arm in a remarkable imitation of Remus dragging Patton to the Imagination. He held the newspaper to Virgil’s face. “Does this symbol represent the meter outside?”

Worry shifted into a wicked grin. “Only one way to find out, Detective Holmes.”

“Ha! I knew it!” Logan grinned and ran toward the door, Virgil at his heels.

They flung open the door together and stood on the sunny first step, just as Thomas’ neighbor walked by, well, more like was led by her noisy dog.

“Oh! Good morning, uh, Thomas?” she called as she jogged past, barely managing to slow the pace of her five pound monster of a chihuahua, Craig the Dragon. 

“Good morning, Betty!” Logan called quickly, stepping to obscure her view of Virgil’s face. “You’ve met my brother Jake, have you not?”

“Yes, yes, of course…” she agreed, voice fading. She was already three doors down. “Nice to see you, Jake!” Betty called one more time before Craig spotted a lizard in another yard and dashed after it.

“That was close,” Virgil muttered, peering around Logan’s shoulder to watch Betty stamp her foot and shout, Leave it!

“Indeed,” Logan agreed, scanning the newspaper. “Is this the only outdoor clue?”

Virgil nodded, eyes fixed on the race between the lizard and the chihuaha. “Yeah.” The chihuaha won.

“Well, then…” Logan adjusted his deerstalker. “Shall we?”

Another neighbor ran out to help pry the lizard from Craig’s maw and Logan and Virgil used the distraction to swing around to the other side of Thomas’ house. Logan began counting the meters. The final meter in the row showed was lettered LUC.

“Is that meant to be ‘look?’” Logan asked, eyebrow raised.

“What do you want? I was outside and in a rush,” Virgil shrugged, keeping watch around the corner. “L, hurry up, she’s on her way back and I look nothing like Jake.”

Nodding brusquely, Logan examined every inch of the glass casing. Finally, he found a series of tiny scratches. Running his fingers over the markings, he grinned. “Morse code? T-h-e—space—n-e-x-t—space—g-l—Wait—” He rubbed his fingertip over another section. “Ha! You thought you could catch me with pre-1874 Morse code!”

He fell quiet, studying the scratches. “C’mon, L, we gotta get back inside now.”

“Ha!” Logan crowed, triumphantly. He grabbed Virgil’s hand and dashed around the back of the building. “Let’s go through the patio. ‘The next clue is in the kitchen.’”

Virgil was the first to smell smoke. The pair exchanged one last quick look and raced to the door.

Before either could reach it, the patio door slid open with a crash and Patton stumbled out. “They’re moving! The chicken fingers are moving!” he screeched, smacking at his own shoulders. Embers sparked in his hair and on the sleeves of his catigan. A wall of acrid smoke soon followed and they all stepped back.

“Come back, Daddy!” Remus called, his voice and the tromp of boots growing louder. The Creative Side emerged from he smoke, arms full of wriggling—and burnt—breaded somethings. “I think I got ‘em all this time!”

“Remus!” Roman shouted from inside. “They got in my crown!”

“Oops. Almost all of ‘em,” Remus winked and ran back inside. "Keep your pants on, Ro Bro! Believe me—you don't want those little stinkers getting in there!"

The trio shared a moment of confused silence before Janus sauntered out, an uncorked bottle in one hand and a tray of four glasses in the other. “Wine, anyone?”

[rincaruries]

Home For The Holidays

For @rux363 <3 <3 These are my pieces for Kaishin Secret Santa 2023, hosted by @dcmkkaishinevents ☃️❄️

(Update: Thank you to the lovely @jodaneko for beta-ing this!)

Having finally taken down the Black Organization once and for all, Kaito and Shinichi embraced a new chapter in their lives. They untangled the knots of their complex feelings, and Shinichi now finds himself in a relationship with Kaito, one that has weathered through thick and thin. However, it is ultimately a long-distance one.

The detective and magician aren't able to see each other in person often. Kid had long since retired the mantle of being the infamous phantom thief and now tours around the world as a renowned performer, set upon achieving his own dreams of becoming a showman that rivaled Toichi's greatness.

Shinichi on the other hand is constantly busy himself with case after case coming into the Beika City police department, in a seemingly endless stream of crimes and ruckus brought on by the winter festivities. It makes Shinichi feel as though he may never catch a break. But it's the holidays, which doesn't make things look any better for the detective's exponentially increasing workload.

Miraculously though, on the night of Christmas Eve, Shinichi is sent home early. Something about the weather, Inspector Megure tells him, but the whispers around the department tell Shinichi that something suspicious is afoot. For once in his life, Shinichi decides not to question it, and heads out for the day. After all, even detectives could get tired of solving mysteries.

When he finally arrived home, nothing seemed to be off. But as Shinichi unlocks the door to the Kudo mansion, he feels a palpable anticipatory hush fill the air. Suddenly, the lights burst to life, revealing a cascade of confetti and the explosive crackle of firecrackers! The unexpected spectacle is all thanks to Kaito, who had secretly returned home to surprise Shinichi for the holidays. Together with the Beika City Police Department, he had schemed to finally give Shinichi the break he deserves.

Additionally, Kaito had somehow managed to gather all of their friends and family to join him in surprising him as well. The group had then, in a rather chaotic fashion, ended up cooking Christmas dinner together. As they participated in the pandemonious affair, Shinichi realizes that its the first meal he and Kaito have gotten to cook with each other since his days as Conan. It makes Shinichi feel grateful that they could now share these ordinary moments without the weight of secret identities.

For the rest of Shinichi’s break, they enjoy many festive activities: going out snowboarding, leisurely drinking hot chocolate by the fireplace, and even kissing under the mistletoe on Christmas morning. Ran and Yukiko tease them for how lovey dovey they're acting, but Shinichi knows that it is likely the last time they'll see each other for a very long time, so that he might as well make the most of it. Since their days as Conan and KID, from forced comradery to unexpected feelings, Shinichi couldn't help but feel they'd come an incredibly long way. He always wishes he could see Kaito more, to revel in his gaze, to hold his warm hands every waking moment of the day, but… 'It won't ever happen', he thinks, 'not with our busy lives.' Despite this, he'll never forget the memories.

The next day, the time comes for Kaito to take his leave again. Shinichi goes to see Kaito off at the train station. He's emotional, but decides to hold it in. He doesn't want to make Kaito any sadder than he already is after all, so Shinichi puts on a strong face for him. He couldn’t waver… but before he could leave, Kaito goes in for a massive bear hug, nearly knocking Shinichi off of his feet with how strongly he embraces him.

“Call me every night,” Kaito pleads into the crook of Shinichi's neck. The 'I'll miss you' goes unspoken, but Shinichi knows it doesn't need to be said. He doesn't want to let go. There is so much he wants to do, so much more he wants to say, … 'but for now,' Shinichi thinks, 'just this is enough.'

Rux 🥺💖💖!!! Once again, you are my secret santa for this year's KSSS23, hosted as always by the lovely Mac <333 When I first saw your prompts, I honestly had no idea what to do, but a picture slowly formed in my head of post-canon lovey dovey established Kaishin, but with a twinge of angst and pining LOL. It's been super cool to compare my last gift to you with this year's gift, as I think I've made a lot of progress artistically since then :0 I hope you enjoy what I've come up with this year :) I had a lot of fun drawing it! Happy holidays!! ☃️

[petermorwood]

I don’t usually post about politics, but the UK situation has degenerated into a sitcom that thinks it’s a docudrama. Or vice versa.

If “Blackadder”, “The New Statesman” and “Yes Prime Minister” had a bastard child, it would look like this.

@dduane​ reblogged someone’s “Explanation for Non-UK readers” HERE.

*****

There have been nearly (more than?) 60 resignations and 1 sacking - that one was for threatening to resign if Prime Minister Boris Johnson didn’t.

BJ mishandling Covid response to the tune of a mountain of corpses didn’t start this, BJ having parties while the rest of the country was in lockdown didn’t do it, BJ giving his minders the slip to chat with a KGB agent (they call themselves FSB nowadays haha but we know who they are, and what was that about anyway?) didn’t do it.

The list of things that didn’t do it is astonishing.

This memorable image of the Queen observing attendance numbers and distancing at her husband’s funeral...

...stands for all the other people who couldn’t attend funerals or even be with dying family members.

The night before that photo was taken, there were two (TWO) parties at 10 Downing Street...

But no resignations.

*****

The catalyst involved a known sex-pest called Chris Pincher - ”Pincher by name, pincher by nature” BJ is claimed to have said after the first male-groping incident and formal complaint. That was in November 2017.

18 months later Pincher was back in favour - BJ favourite catchphrases are “time to move on” and “put this thing behind us” (ooh-er, Missus!) - and held the post of Deputy Chief Whip (swish-smack! you could NOT make this stuff up...)

Then in June 2022 Mister Whippee groped other males at a party. They were Party Members as well as party attendees, and it seems Pincher pinched their members as well as their arses. Maybe he thought that made it okay. What British Tories regard as acceptable nowadays is a mystery.

There was another formal complaint about the incident.

After which...

The Prime Minister denied that he’d been told anything about it, then denied that he’d been told very much about it, then denied that he’d been told as much about it as the people who told him about it said they’d told him about it, then claimed that he’d forgotten what he’d been told about it, then was confronted in an open letter with proof showing that he’d not only been told about it, but exactly how much he’d been told about it.

And that’s when the resignations started.

*****

The number of letters with phrases like “...can no longer tolerate...” show that those whose names are on those letters were content to tolerate everything prior. They are no more admirable after the letters than they were before.

It seems - did it apply to the woman caught by an MP giving BJ a BJ in his office? (oh yes, that happened too) - that the Johnsonite gang would rather swallow than spit.

Maybe it’s something learned at Public School, or maybe the rug’s too soggy with sleaze to absorb any more.

It’s certainly lumpy enough from all the stuff swept under it.

*****

At time of posting,

Four Seasons Total Landscaping in Philadelphia offered to provide a venue for any press conference due to “having experience with this sort of thing”.

Somebody was sent to get the Mess Webley.

BJ is believed to have resigned as Leader of the Conservative Party (although his speech did not use the word “resign” anywhere) but plans to stay on until the October party conference as “Caretaker PM” - which conveniently allows use of Chequers, the PM’s country home, for his next wedding reception. At taxpayer expense. Apparently invitations have already gone out.

Nobody can find the Mess Webley.

Moves are already afoot to extract him from the No 10 janitor’s cupboard before he can fill the resignation posts with acquiescent lickspittles, as well as fears of what he might do or cover up in the interim out of carelessness, disinterest, personal interest or spite.

Nobody can find the ammunition for the Mess Webley.

Ex Tory PM John Major has publicly stated that for the good of the country (and other countries!) BJ should not be allowed to remain PM.

It’s as if somebody has deliberately hidden the Mess Webley.

And its ammunition.

ETA: after some “what’s a Mess Webley?” questions, it’s this.

Also, someone who enjoys irony posted this (Gordon Brown (Labour) was 4 PMs ago.)

*****

Currently the most respected, trusted and popular resident of 10 Downing Street continues to be Larry, Chief Mouser to the Cabinet Office.

[strqyr]

if my incessant ramblings about all things summer haven't given it away yet: i love a good mystery. or like, a mystery in general. i want to be right there with the protagonist trying to figure things out, instead of knowing for certain way before they do.

which is why i wish the early volumes would have leaned more into the mystery angle with the villains instead of revealing them outright. like, stick with torchwick & neo and the white fang as the front, hint at there being someone behind the scenes, but don't give their identity away. have cinder wear a proper disguise that completely hides her identity when she infiltrates the CCT tower, keep emerald's semblance a secret, etc.

let them be just one team from mistral in the sea of many.

there's plenty of students arriving to beacon for the vytal festival; plenty of new faces the audience knows nothing about—and now something afoot. who's the culprit? is it penny, the robot girl with a soul who was seen nearby the CCT tower at one point (was she scoping it out?), who would possibly understand technology enough to know how to make a virus? is it sun, the stowaway who didn't wait for the transport provided by haven, his own school, to arrive in vale, who barely blinks before breaking the law, even if it is in small ways?

the virus is marked with a black queen chess piece; qrow sends a message to ozpin about the queen having pawns. who is this queen? who are the pawns?

during the tournament, strange things are happening, and ruby's right there trying to figure it out... but i think it loses a little bit of the oomph of it when the audience already knows what ruby doesn't.

[eriquin]

The Prophetic D&D Game

I'm going to try something new and post bits on tumblr instead of straight to ao3. We'll see how far I get. Tagging @2btheanswertothequestion because she was interested.

Now with Part 2

“All right, Hellfire club, listen up. I’ve got a new campaign for you,” Eddie said as he swept into the room. He’d arrived late and looked harried.

“Yeah, duh,” Gareth said. “We spent all of last week making characters for your Cult of Vecna run.”

“No, not that.” Eddie shoved at the character sheets in front of them all. “Put those away, this is something different.”

“What the hell?” Jeff asked. “If we’re not playing Cult of Vecna then why did you give Grant so much shit on Monday about missing it?”

“Bup-bup-bup!” Eddie said, putting one hand in front of Jeff’s face as the other dropped a lumpy canvas bag onto the table. “I didn’t know on Monday what I know now. He’s still a dipshit for missing Hellfire but that just means he doesn’t get to participate in my newest bout of brilliance.”

The three youngest Hellfire members glanced at each other nervously. “Uh, what’s going on?” Dustin asked cautiously. “What are we playing instead?”

Eddie straightened up and drew a folder from his bag. “Gentlemen! I have been struck by inspiration. This new run came to me in a dream, and I spent the past two days developing it—”

“This is why you skipped?” Gareth crossed his arms. “Dude, you’re going to fail again!”

Eddie gasped with dramatic offense and clasped his hand to his heart. “Just for that, Gareth, you pick your character last!” 

Gareth rolled his eyes. “Oh, you made the characters, too? Christ, you’re such a dictator.” 

“No more backtalk from you,” Eddie said. He flailed in Gareth’s direction with the folder but didn’t hit him. He sighed and grabbed the edge of his throne to pull it closer to the table. “And I didn’t make all the details of the characters. I just started them out. You can pick what they look like and all that jazz.” He opened the folder and took out a stack of papers to pass around.

Mike, sitting just to his left, took the stack from him. “Joe the human fighter? With a spiked club for a weapon? Huh. His charisma’s awful high, isn’t it?” 

“Just share them with the group, Wheeler,” Eddie said. “I’m going to make you all roll to see who picks first, except for Gare-bear here because he’s judgemental.” 

Mike put the stack in the middle of the table and they each picked up a character to read over. The group was quiet for a minute as they read through the pages. Lucas spoke up first. “So what kind of story is it?” he asked.

“I’m glad you asked, Sinclair,” Eddie said. He stood up and started to circle the table. “A terrible tragedy has rocked your little castle town. There’s been a grisly murder, and there’s something almost ritualistic about it. The guards have someone they suspect, but this group of intrepid adventures has information about what really happened. They know that the guards won’t believe them, and they have to act fast if they want to prevent more deaths.”

“So, it’s a murder mystery?” Dustin asked. “That sounds awesome.”

Eddie grinned down at him as he stretched his arms out over the backs of Lucas and Jeff’s chairs. “It is, and it isn’t. There’s definitely something sinister and supernatural afoot.” 

“Wait. Half of these characters are chicks,” Mike said with a sneer. 

“As is half of the population, Wheeler,” Eddie said. He looked completely unimpressed with Mike’s attitude. “What’s your point?”

“There’s only three guys to pick from, and there’s five of us. Do you really expect us to play as girls?” 

Eddie gave him another deadpan look before turning to Gareth. “Gare-bear, you’re no longer picking last. Wheeler is.” 

“Hey!” Mike yelled.

“Ha!” Gareth pointed at him and grinned. “I will admit that this sounds intriguing. You haven’t answered the question about how long we’ll be playing this, though.” 

Eddie scratched his head as he walked back to his throne. “I think it’s probably only a session or two? Depends on what you guys do with it.” He steepled his fingers and peered at his players. “So, are you all in?”

There were some shrugs and a round of silent communication around the table. “I still want to play Cult of Vecna,” Jeff said, “but I didn’t really want to start it without Grant. So yeah, I’m in.” 

“I love murder mysteries, so I’m definitely in,” Dustin said. 

Lucas nodded enthusiastically while Mike let out a very put-upon sigh and threw up his hands as he conceded that it sounded okay. True to form, Eddie made each of them roll to see who went first for picking a character. He snatched up Mike’s die before it landed and tutted at him. “I wasn’t kidding about you picking last, Wheeler.” 

“Aww, come on,” Mike said. “I don’t want to play a girl.”

Lucas had rolled the highest number. He shook his head at Mike. “To be honest, I don’t want to see Mike play a girl either,” he said. “It would probably be offensive.” 

“Point made, Sinclair,” Eddie said. “Who are you picking?”

Lucas grinned and reached across the table for one of the character sheets. “Sadie the thief,” he said. 

“Really? Not going to be a fighter this time?” Dustin asked. 

“Nah, Sadie looked cool. Kind of reminds me of someone, you know?” He picked up the character sheet and set it in front of him. 

“Dusty-buns!” Eddie said cheerfully.

“One time,” Dustin muttered. “You heard my mom call me that one time...”

“You’re up next. Who are you picking?” 

“I’m gonna go for the thief,” Dustin said. “Gaten the halfling. He sounds cool.” 

“I thought you’d like him,” Eddie said. He stood up and leaned over the table to watch as Jeff flipped through the four remaining characters. “What are you thinking, Jeffster?”

Jeff hummed to himself. “It’s an investigation, right? I think I’ll go with Caleb. It says he’s a junior member of the town guard... Could be useful.” 

“Excellent choice, Jeffinald. How about you, Gare-bear? We are down to three options.”

Gareth stood up so he could take a better look at the three remaining character sheets. “Did you write one up for Grant, too? Even though he wouldn’t be here?”

“No, these are just the ones I needed for the story,” Eddie said. “I actually have a seventh PC that will be introduced later in the story, if you all make it that far. If Grant wants, he can join us.” 

“Fascinating,” Gareth said. “What do you think, all? Should I pick the fighter and make Mike speak in a falsetto for the rest of the campaign?” 

Dustin rolled his eyes. “He’s going to be insufferable if you do.” 

“Hey, I’m right here!” Mike said. 

“Yeah, and he’s already insufferable,” Lucas added.

“You guys are just—”

“Well just for that!” Gareth said loudly, slapping his hand down on the table. The freshmen jumped in place. He grinned at their reaction. “I, frankly, have no problem playing a lady. I will be Maya, the lovely magic user. Both her and Natalia seem more interesting than the fighter.” He slid the last two character sheets across the table to Mike.

Everyone turned to watch him evaluate the options. “Wait, Natalia’s an elven cleric? I thought elves couldn’t be clerics.”

“DM’s discretion,” Eddie said. “A lot of those class and ability restrictions are a load of crap. Do we really think elves aren’t in tune with the gods? That’s just dumb.”

“Yeah, you know we have some house rules,” Jeff said. 

Mike as he read the sheets some more. “Wait, these two used to be married?” 

“Engaged,” Eddie said. “Separated because Natalia was too devoted to her career. But maybe there’s something to be rekindled there?” 

Mike let out a noise of disgust. “Ugh, I don’t want to play any romance in D&D. Come on.” He sighed and picked up both character sheets. “What happens to the one I don’t pick? Do they still appear in the story?”

“Yeah, they’ll be an NPC. I’ll voice them and everything.” Eddie smirked. “So make good choices, because you’ll be dealing with the repercussions either way.” 

Back and forth, Mike’s eyes darted between the two characters. “I can’t decide!” he whined. “They’re both good fighters. Natalia is smarter and has spells, but Joe is stronger and has cooler gear.”

“Jesus, just pick so we can get playing,” Dustin muttered. He was already filling in description details for his character. 

Jeff rapped his knuckles on the table to get Mike’s attention. “If you really can’t pick, just flip a coin.”

“Okay, fine!” Mike said, throwing his hands in the air. He picked up his twenty-sided die and tapped the character sheet for Natalia. “High,” he said. Then he tapped the one for Joe. “Low.” He rolled.

It landed on an eight.

“And through the power of random probability, Mike Wheeler will not be questioning his gender identity tonight,” Eddie said as Mike handed him back Natalia’s character sheet. 

“Oh, this means we have no healer,” Gareth said with a frown. “Well, at least Mike’s fighter is a front-liner and will probably die first.” 

“And mine,” Jeff said. “I’m a fighter, too.”

“You have higher dex,” Gareth said. “Get a bow, stand behind Joe the brutal over there, and let him take the hits.” 

“So are we ready to play?” Dustin asked, sounding impatient. 

“Almost, almost,” Eddie said with a broad smile that generally meant he had something planned. “Everyone familiar with their characters? Generally happy with them? Or at least comfortable?” He got a round of nodding heads and noises of agreement. His smile turned a little bit wicked as he said, “Great. Here are the real character sheets, and all their secrets. It’ll be up to you if you want to share them.”

[fandom-imagines-stories]

Honor and Espionage Part One

Aramis x Reader (The Musketeers)

Words: 3284

Summary: The newest member of the team is abruptly introduced to Aramis’ wife- a high-ranking spy for the Musketeers who may be in over her head on her new assignment.

Notes: The chokehold that Aramis has on me is unreal. I love this man to the ends of the earth. Also, I had to make another Les Mis reference. Expect a lot of them in these imagines. 

Warning: Mild violence, some steaminess, the usual for these boys

Find more Musketeers: HERE

-

D’Artagnan still didn’t understand why they were there to begin with. The assignment made sense enough. Gather information, don’t approach the targets, and try not to cause any fights while at it. But the four of them had sat in the noisy tavern for hours now and there was no sign of anyone remotely resembling the treacherous representative of Savoy they were meant to spy on. 

“What if he doesn’t show up?” He whispered to the man across the table.

Aramis raised a brow. “Do you doubt Treville’s intel?” He smirked with his usual teasing mischief and patted the younger man on the arm. “Don’t worry, D’Artagnan. I’m sure our patience will be rewarded with at least something interesting.” 

He gazed over at the man Ambassador Laurent was supposed to be meeting- presumably to discuss secret information regarding the King’s plans of trade with Spain. The well-dressed middle-man bellowed flirtations to the woman whose back was turned to them, his face reddened with how much wine she’d brought him. Judging by the disinteresting angle of her head, his efforts were very much wasted. 

Then the woman stood and said something they couldn’t quite hear, but made Aramis’s brows furrow. She drew her hood up over her curled hair and slinked out of the tavern through the back entrance. The man stretched his arms and walked over to the counter to order another drink. 

D’Artagnan’s brain rushed around dozens of thoughts and settled on the possibility that the mystery woman could have been working with the ambassador. If not, she may have heard something of interest from the drunk and could be passing it on to another party, possibly even worse than the ambassador. 

“I’m going to go see where she’s off to,” D’Artagnan said.

“Wait-” Aramis started, but the young man was already halfway across the room. 

Aramis let the woman’s voice echo in his head. He may not have heard her words, but he knew that tone. He knew the curve of her neck and the curl of her pinned-up hair. But before he could follow D’Artagnan, and thus the woman, Athos’s instruction prevented him. 

“He’s here,” Athos hissed, motioning with his eyes for Aramis to remain where he was. Sure enough, the betraying bastard waltzed into the tavern with a grin on his face and an arrogant air about him. So, despite his nerves itching for him to move, Aramis remained while D’Artagnan sought out the cloaked woman. 

D’Artagnan moved without a sound down the alley behind the tavern, eyes scanning for the slightest motion to reveal where the woman had gone. A flash of cape caught the lamplight. He followed. The suspicious air about her exit further confirmed his suspicion that she was not just another bar wench looking for extra funds. Something else was certainly afoot. 

Inside, a roar of commotion stopped him in his tracks. He tried to decipher what the frantic people inside were shouting and could make out one word. 

“Poison!” 

He stepped forward and felt something metal touch the back of his neck. A click rang through the dark. 

“Don’t take another step.” An arm snaked around his neck and the barrel of the pistol moved to his chin. The woman spoke close to his ear. “Who sent you? Who knows about me?” 

“Madam, I assure you, I don’t know what you’re-”

She tightened her hold on his neck. “Do not play me for a fool, sir.”

The tavern’s occupants poured out of the front door in a panic. The Ambassador returned to his carriage and disappeared. 

Both D’Artagnan and the woman sighed with the same frustration. “Damn.” 

D’Artagnan’s brow furrowed in confusion. The woman stiffened. 

“Do you work for the ambassador?” She hissed. 

“Do you?” 

Another click cut off their conversation. 

“Let the boy go.” 

The woman turned, spinning D’Artagnan along with her. Her arm around his neck twitched and her tone changed with surprise. 

“Porthos?”

The Musketeer let his pistol fall to his side. “Y/N?” 

“You two know each other?” D’Artagnan squeaked, the pistol still pressed to his head making him increasingly uncomfortable. 

“Y/N.” 

Your heart fluttered, any semblance of control now betrayed by your excitement. You let your arm fall away from the young man’s chest and turned back around, facing the opening of the alley. There, caught in the lamplight, dark eyes glistened with adoring astonishment and a smile played across his lips. 

You gasped. “Aramis?” 

Forgetting where you were and the threat you’d just posed upon his compatriot, you dashed across the space dividing you and through your arms around him. His hands cupped your face as if making sure it was really you and pulled your lips to his. 

D’Artagnan, still breathless and reeling, whirled his head back and forth, from Porthos, to the couple, back to Porthos, back to the couple. 

“Would someone like to explain why Aramis is in the arms of the woman who just tried to kill me?” He exclaimed. 

“You followed me,” you quipped, taking a step forward in confrontation. Aramis tsked and held you back with an arm around your waist. 

“We were simply unaware of your being here, darling, otherwise I imagine things would have gone very differently.” He purred and pressed another kiss to your cheek before turning back to the younger trainee. “D’Artagnan.” He held out a hand to him, then to you. “Allow me to introduce Y/N D’Herblay, Captain of the Musketeers Covert Intelligence, and,” he held you tighter, “my wife.” 

D’Artagnan clamped his mouth shut to prevent his jaw from dropping in surprise. The smooth-talking Musketeer was married?

Horse’s shrill protests echoed down the street as the ambassador’s carriage tried to cut through the crowd of people trying to find out what happened. You laid a hand on your husband’s chest and urged him deeper into the shadows. 

“Perhaps we should continue this introduction elsewhere, else my cover will be revealed,” you said. 

He nodded and led you back into the tavern with a hand on the small of your back. 

D’Artagnan, mouth now agape, watched the two of you go. 

“But-” 

“Come on,” Porthos huffed, grabbing him by the shoulder and shoving him inside. 

-

While Athos and Porthos dealt with the poisoned man you’d just met with, the other two Musketeers secured a private room in order to keep you hidden from any other investigating parties. Aramis’s hand never left yours, leading you and the man you’d nearly killed upstairs. 

“Not that I’m not happy to see you, darling,” you said once the door was shut behind you. “But what are you all doing here?”

“We could ask the same thing,” D’Artagnan exclaimed. 

You scoffed. “This is my assignment.” You turned an angry gaze on your husband. “Who is this?” Your voice rang through the room. Aramis held up his hands to try and calm you. 

“A moment, dear.” His charming smile was betrayed by anxiety in his eyes. “We mustn't lose our heads. There is a dead man downstairs.” 

“That she likely killed!” D’Artagnan quickly regretted his words, receiving warning glares from both of them. 

You let out a low sigh and removed your cloak, pacing across the small room. It was only then that Aramis saw how your hands shook. 

“I didn’t kill Baffier, I was using him to get closer to the ambassador.” 

Aramis nodded. “And you think Laurent killed him to prevent him from passing on information?” 

You looked at him with wide eyes and a fear that shot through his heart. 

“I don’t think the poison was meant for him.” 

Aramis’s face fell. Unable to bear the loving worry in his eyes, you turned to the open window to breathe in the night air. 

“You think Laurent knows about you?” D’Artagnan asked. Aramis was at your side in seconds, taking your hand in his.

“It’s ridiculous,” you sighed. “My life has been threatened countless times-”

“Countless times?” Aramis exclaimed. You raised a brow. “Sorry, love. Continue.” 

Your breathing turned shaky and you looked away again. “But to have someone die in my place…” 

Aramis lifted your chin with his finger, eyes alight and staring deeply into yours. 

“If you think your position has been compromised, then it is too dangerous for you to remain here. We must return you to Paris immediately.” 

You shook your head and pushed away from him. “All Laurent knows is my name. Thanks to Baffier- God rest his soul- I now have an invitation to a very important dinner where I will hopefully learn the extent of the ambassador's plans.” 

“You can’t be serious,” your husband exasperated. “We have no way of knowing if all he knows is your name. Baffier could very well have been the one to sell you out, or even poison you!” Deep brown eyes pleaded with yours. “You cannot continue.” 

“Fortunately, dear, you are not the one who gives me orders,” you snapped. “This dinner has been what Treville and I have been working toward for months. I’m not going to let a small threat get in the way.”

“I doubt the dead man downstairs would agree with your assessment of this threat level!” He shouted, more out of panic than of anger. 

“She’s right, Aramis.” Athos, having come from the havoc downstairs, closed the door behind him as he entered.  “A barmaid confessed to mixing Y/N’s drink and that Baffier accidentally drank from the wrong cup.” He crossed the room to the couple and spoke again before Aramis could interject. “But she cannot surrender the opportunity to get the closest to Laurent we’ve ever been.” 

“But you’ve just said it!” Aramis exclaimed. “One attempt has already been made on her life. How is that possibly not enough to convince Treville sending her would be a mistake.” 

“The barmaid said that it was Baffier who threatened her into poisoning Y/N’s wine,” Athos said. “He hadn’t the chance to reveal the truth about her to Laurent because the fool fell on his own sword. Y/N’s mission will go on as planned.” 

Aramis stepped forward, but you took his arm to calm him. 

Athos turned to you. “When are you set to leave for the ambassador’s estate?” 

“Day after next,” you answered, hand still on your husband’s shoulder. The lie formed a necessary lump in your throat. You just needed to buy yourself some time.  “The dinner is to celebrate his success as an advisor to the king.” Your last words were thick with irony. 

“Then you’ll have plenty of time to prepare and we’ll have plenty of time to ensure you aren’t walking into a trap.” Athos nodded and headed back for the door. He motioned for D’Artagnan to follow. “Everything is taken care of downstairs. The local authorities are taking Baffier and the barmaid.” A small smile crept onto his lips as he looked between the two of you. “And the room is paid for through the night. We’ll reconvene at dawn.” 

The two men left and the room fell into a tense silence. You began to pace again. 

“We agreed when we married that we wouldn’t interfere with each other’s work,” you sighed. “I know it isn’t easy. Lord knows how many nights I’ve spent wondering if you were alive or dead.” You stopped, feet firm on the ground and head high. “But I have to do this. It may be the only way to know the extent of Laurent’s plans.” 

Aramis closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and returned his gaze to yours. 

“I know.” 

You were taken aback. Frankly, you hadn’t expected the argument to be over so quickly. Usually, the two of you could debate from dusk til dawn. But Aramis knew that when your mind was set, there was no changing it. Still, the adrenaline still pumping through your veins forced your tongue. 

“I still don’t understand what you are doing here to begin with. Treville can’t have sent you to keep an eye on me, he trusts me more than that. I wonder-”

Aramis stopped you with a kiss. 

“My love,” he started, breathing a sigh against your lips. “We haven’t seen each other in weeks. I had hoped our reunion would be a little less argumentative.” Soothing hands traveled up and down your spine. He moved his kisses along your collarbone. 

“In all of the fuss, I’d almost forgotten how much I missed you,” you laughed, tangling your fingers in his chocolate-colored locks. 

As suspected, the room- and your adrenaline- were put to very good use. 

-

Aramis woke to an empty bed and for a moment a wave of panic rushed over him. He sat straight up and called out your name before he saw the sun outside his window and remembered Athos’ instructions from the night before. Ease comforted him, but only for a moment. He remembered why you were here in the first place and a new set of worries filled his mind. 

“You’re late.” Porthos peaked through a crack in the door. “May I come in? Are the two of you decent?” 

Aramis let out a deep sigh. “It’s just me. Y/N must have already gone downstairs.” 

Porthos swung the door open. Perplexion painted his features. 

“No, she hasn’t.” 

The two exchanged a glance of frustrated understanding and Aramis hurried to collect his clothes. 

“I should have known,” he muttered. 

“Why would she have taken off?” Porthos asked. “We’re here to help her.” 

Aramis secured his trousers and pulled his billowing shirt over his head. He grabbed the rest of his belongings and met his fellow musketeer at the door with a scowl. 

“Exactly.” 

Porthos held out an arm to stop him. “What’s that?” He jerked his chin at the table beside the bed where a small roll of paper sat with a ribbon tied around it. Aramis picked it up and held the thin fabric between his fingers. You’d worn it in your hair the night before. The parchment contained a single sentence written in your delicate handwriting. 

“I have to do this,” Aramis read with a grimace. He crumpled the page in his fist and gave a ferocious glare to his companion. 

“Don’t look at me,” Porthos huffed. “You’re the one that married her.” 

Aramis shoved past him and thundered down the stairs where Athos and D’Artagnan were waiting. Athos turned and his face fell with confusion to see only the two men descending. It took only a moment and a glance at Aramis’s fiery and frantic expression to understand. 

“She’s going alone, isn’t she?” He sighed. He ran a hand down his face. “I suspected this may happen. That’s why I secured the room, so that you may keep an eye on her.” Athos glared pointedly at your husband. 

“I assure you, if I had known her plot I would have tied her down,” Aramis said. Porthos raised a brow, earning a smack. “Not like that, you idiot.” 

D’Artagnan, who’d been silent until now, coughed and looked guiltily down at the floor. “She left around 5:00 this morning.” 

Aramis had his hand on his collar in a flash. “You saw her leave and didn’t think to, I don’t know, wake me?” 

“Actually,” D’Artagnan gulped. “I spoke to her.” 

“I fail to see how that helps you in this instance.”

“I let her go because she’s right.” The younger man gently removed Aramis’s hands from his shirt and took a cautious step back. “If the ambassador so much as theorizes that we may be onto him, it would be much more dangerous for her than if she were to simply go alone.”

“Then why did Treville send us if he's the one that assigned her?” Porthos asked. 

“He sent us to find out who Laurent was meeting and why, not to infiltrate his likely well-guarded home,” Athos said. He thought for a moment, noting Aramis’s chest heave with his breathing. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t observe from afar just in case anything goes amiss. Laurent’s estate will take nearly all day to reach. We should leave now.” 

Aramis was the first to the door, but he was stopped by the youngest member of their group. 

“What now?” He hissed. 

D’Artagnan reached a hand into his pocket and held something in his fist. “She was afraid it would be too dangerous to have on her person and asked me if you’d look after it for her.” 

He opened his hand, a small band of gold sitting in his gloved palm. Aramis picked it up. The inscription glittered in the morning sunlight and pierced his heart. 

L’amour Vainc Tout. 

Love conquers all. 

He brought the ring to his lips and muttered a prayer against the metal that you were right. 

-

The carriage jostled, worsening the nerves that twisted your stomach. You took a deep breath and attempted to clear your mind. Whispers of the night before teased your memory, the phantom of Aramis’s lips still burning your skin. You glanced out of the window at the French countryside, nearing the Savoyan border. 

He’d be awake now, worried and probably furious. No. Definitely furious. You could see his fuming face now as the other musketeers likely tried to calm him. The younger one- D’Artagnan- would hopefully have told them what you’d said to convince him to let him go. Athos would see the logic and would prevent your husband from acting rashly and storming Laurent’s estate. 

You hoped. 

Either way, by the time they arrived, you would be well into your mission of charming Laurent and his rich companions to gather the information Treville needed in order to sway the king’s opinion on Laurent and his treachery. 

“If I could halt all the violence in the world so we didn’t have to do what we do, I would,” Aramis had whispered as you laid together in the darkness of the night before. 

You’d laughed against his chest. “No, you wouldn’t.” In between words, you had kissed up the length of his neck until you reached his lips. “Because neither of us would know what to do with ourselves if we didn’t have something to fight for.” 

Aramis remained in your thoughts for the rest of the journey, though when you saw the grand house come out from over the hill, you forced his smile to the back of your mind and, like a lever in your chest, switched on your flattering facade that allowed you to do your work with a smile. Ever the perfect spy. 

Your legs ached from the hours of travel and you took a moment to stretch them as you stepped out of the carriage and onto the stone path that stretched through the front gardens and up to the ambassador’s mansion. The sun had already started to dip below the horizon and servants lit candles in the parlor. 

“This way, Madame…” The butler began. 

“Mademoiselle de Valjean,” you beamed. You took the invitation you’d procured from Baffier and handed it to him with a graceful motion. “I’m a close friend of the Duchess of Savoy and I’m just dying to make the ambassador’s acquaintance.” 

“I’m sure you are.” A new voice sounded from the shadows. A maid lit another candle and revealed a dazzling pair of hazel eyes alight in the flame. She put on a smile that matched your own as you hid your surprise well. The woman you only knew as Milady de Winter crossed the parlor and took your hands in hers. “Madame de Valjean, how lovely it is to see you again.” She said your false name with a knowing glint in her eye. 

This was going to be more difficult than you thought.

-