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he-flies-with-his-own-wings · 2 years

Note

throwing ideas your way in case you want them (NOTHING underage): 1- dick loves being held by bruce (bruce loves it, too; whispering sweet and filthy things to him depending on the mood); 2- phone s*x or s*xting/pics; 3- au where they're not heroes (lawyers, drs, bankers); 4- skinny dipping or another getaway; 5- mutual m**turbation; 6- dick surprising b with something really nice/meaningful.

yo are we allowed to have p()rn on this website again, because if so maybe i'll take a run at a few of these other ideas sometime too. but in the meantime, here's a piping hot #6 for you!

perfectly safe for work unless your work doesn't want you using tumblr during business hours. established relationship, no smut, lots of feels, light angst. tried to do my best by romani dick & jewish bruce and then fell down a rabbit hole of 20th century circus town history.

thank you for your prompts and please, folks, feel free to keep 'em coming!

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These days, when mail addressed to Dick Grayson arrives at Wayne Manor, which hasn’t been his legal residence in like a decade, it’s generally an excuse for Bruce to have a little fun with it.

(“This relationship is very new, still,” he said the last time, sitting somberly across from Dick at the breakfast table with an envelope in his hand. “Things are delicate between us, Dick.”

“I understand that. We’ve talked about this before, Bruce. I know you want to take things slow.”

“I do. That’s why I’m concerned. It’s far too early to be telling everybody at -” as he looked down at the envelope with a solemnly furrowed brow - “Gotham City Bank Preferred Platinum Visa Rewards Card that we’re moving in together.”

“Very funny.”

“I know you’re preapproved for a special offer with 0% interest APR, but -”

“Oh, just give me the goddamn envelope and shut up.”)

But this time, both he and Alfred see the return address on the big cardboard box when it arrives, and they know whatever is inside, they can’t joke about this.

Gibsonton, Florida has been the winter home of circus and carnival performers since the early Depression. Its unique zoning laws allow residents to keep everything from monkeys to elephants to giant tents and trailers on their property, and in its glory days it was a safe, albeit colorful and bizarre, home for all kinds of people who might have been treated like freaks anywhere else. Pop Haly had been born there, back when the town was at its wildest, and had always spoken of it fondly, though in Dick’s time the circus traveled so far and wide that they didn’t really take whole winters off anymore the way they used to, so his memories of the place were more fragmented.

It would not take Batman - or even an ordinary detective - to figure out what’s in the box. Alfred gets there just as quickly as Bruce.

“Master Richard did mention plans for the circus to sell off some of the assets that were no longer in use, in order to reinvest them in the new permanent site,” the butler ventures. “I do not recall specifics, but I would imagine property -”

“And somebody going through it for sale found something that belonged to the Graysons.”

“Would you like to call him, sir, or shall I?”

Bruce shakes his head. “It’s Wednesday. He’ll be here at seven for dinner anyway. Leave it on his bed in his old room. He might want to be alone when he opens it. We don’t have any way of knowing what’s in that box, or how it will make him feel.”

He doesn’t get answers to either of those questions that night. Dick finds Bruce in the study and kisses him hello with an easy smile, but it falls off his face like a painting on a loose nail when he hears the word “Gibsonton.” He’s alone upstairs for so long that Alfred has to put the chicken pot pies back in the oven to keep warm, and when he comes back down to the dining room he’s uncharacteristically reserved and somber.

“What did he tell you?” Alfred asks Bruce quietly, as he helps the butler carry the dishes into the kitchen, leaving Dick staring wordlessly into his coffee and playing with a brownie he isn’t really eating.

“Nothing. I didn’t ask.”

“Not even to see if he was all right?”

“He’s not all right,” Bruce says simply. “It’s private, Alfred. If he wants to tell us, he will.”

But he doesn’t say anything over coffee and brownies, and he doesn’t say anything as he puts the box in the trunk of his car and drives home, and he doesn’t say anything for days and weeks afterward.

Bruce still doesn’t ask. But he hasn’t stopped wondering.

* * * * *

It’s nearly two months before the topic comes up again.

It’s a nice night, warm for October, the skies clear. Bruce is sitting alone with a cup of coffee on one of the benches near a corner of the grounds where the leaves are already turning. He still has a few hours before it’s time to leave for patrol, and it’s peaceful here. His parents liked this spot. It’s gotten easier, slowly but surely over the years since Dick came into his life, to live alongside their ghosts without feeling quite so . . . haunted. He can remember the nice moments without as much pain. When he was little, after the fall leaves were raked up into piles but before the landscapers hauled them away, Bruce was permitted to jump in them. He liked the crunching sound.

He hears the same sound behind him suddenly, an odd coincidence, and turns to see Dick approaching across the flagstones, scattered red and gold leaves crackling under his feet.

“You’re early,” he says, smiling, and moves aside to make room on the bench.

“Alfred said I’d find you here.”

Everything okay?”

“Yes. Yeah. I just had something -” Dick pauses, shaking his head a little like he’s gathering his thoughts, and takes a seat beside Bruce. They look up at the stars in silence for a few moments. Bruce doesn’t press him. Dick will talk when he’s ready. He always does.

“So you probably remember that box,” he says finally. He doesn’t look at Bruce as he speaks. “The one that came here for me.”

Bruce nods. “I remember.”

Another silence.

“You know, I kept waiting for you to ask me what was in it,” Dick says.

“It was private.”

“Like you’ve never seen me opening the mail and asked, ‘oh, a package! Who’s it from?’”

“I know exactly what Gibsonton is, Dick. Did you want me to ask, or were you afraid of me asking?”

“I don’t really know,” says Dick.

“Are you bringing it up because you want to tell me now?”

This silence lasts even longer than the others. Bruce doesn’t reach out to touch him, or turn to look at his face, but he lets his knee shift leftward just a centimeter or two, enough to bump lightly against Dick’s. I’m right here, the gesture says. Take your time.

“There was a warehouse on the property,” Dick finally says, eyes fixed on the trees in front of him. “All the other outbuildings were empty, easy enough to get them ready for the sale, but behind the stable there was a big old bunker of a thing I didn’t remember when the real estate agent sent me the photos. All she told me at the time was that the guy who was managing the property had found some personal effects in there and needed access to Pop Haly’s list of addresses of former employees. It was full of shelves with crates and bins on them, labeled, personal things people didn’t want to take with them on the road. I didn't think anything of it, I didn't assume there'd be anything in there for me, so I just sent over the copy I had in the paperwork he left me. But it must have been old -"

"Because the address he had for you was here."

"Gibsonton was home base, see," Dick goes on. "The place they always came back to. Sometimes when you were going out on a long-haul, you might leave a box there for the crew to watch over, if there were things you didn’t want to get lost or broken from months of traveling in a caravan.”

His voice has been impressively steady up until now, but when Bruce hears it begin to break a little, he steps in to let Dick breathe for a moment.

“So the property manager went through the warehouse to ready it for sale,” he guesses, “and found a box with your name on it. Things you didn’t go back for, because you stayed here in Gotham and didn’t go back to Gibsonton when the rest of the circus did.”

“Not my name,” says Dick, and he reaches out for Bruce’s hand.

Bruce exhales deeply. “Oh.”

They sit there like that for a long time. The moon’s almost full. A faint breeze shivers through the tree nearest them - a dogwood, which always erupts into riotous white and pink blossoms each spring - and a few red-gold leaves flutter downward.

“They left a bunch of things in Gibsonton that they didn’t have room for anymore in the caravan after they had me,” Dick says. “Things from their life before.”

“I see.”

“Things that were fragile, or delicate, or just things that there wasn’t a daily use for, so they had to choose between that and, you know, diapers and a stroller and all that. We never had a lot of room. And going from two people to three people in the same tiny space -”

“Of course.”

“They left a lot of things behind,” Dick says, and there’s something strange in his voice. “They left a lot of things behind, to make room for me.”

Bruce turns and looks at him, and squeezes his hand. “You don’t need me to be the one to tell you that nothing they left behind in a cardboard box in Gibsonton, Florida was more precious to them than you were,” he says, “but I’ll say it anyway, if it would help you to hear it out loud.”

Dick gives him a fleeting, weary smile before moving in closer, resting his head on Bruce’s shoulder. At the implicit signal that Dick wants comfort, that proximity and touch are now more important than the distance and silence he’d seemed to require when he first sat down, Bruce puts his arm around him, letting Dick curl up into the massive, sturdy wall of his chest. It seems to ease something in the younger man, who lets out a long, exhausted sigh.

“The biggest thing in it was a lamp," Dick says. "The base is a glass elephant. Mom told me about it once. She’d had it in her bedroom as a little girl. She’d dreamed of joining the circus because she wanted to make friends with an elephant. They’re matriarchal, did you know that?”

“I did.”

“Mom had dreams as a little kid of a trapeze act starring her and a bunch of girl elephants. They would be her best friends, she said. It always made me laugh when she told me about it. They left the lamp in Florida after she got pregnant; Dad was afraid a kid running around a space that small would knock it over, and he knew it was special to her. He always said someday, after they’d retired, they’d buy a little house somewhere, and -”

Dick’s voice breaks off. Bruce squeezes his shoulder.

“We always think we have more time,” Bruce says simply.

Dick nods. “Yeah.”

“It’s nice that you have it now.”

“That was the biggest thing in there,” Dick says. “There were some antique-looking books, and a really old dress - like a prom dress maybe. And some jewelry - nothing, you know, fancy, they weren’t rich, but things that were special. A few pieces that I think were maybe my grandmother’s. I remember them from photos. And a glass box full of shells. They must have collected them somewhere. Maybe on vacations, or maybe when the circus was traveling and hit seaside towns. Dad always liked to go to the beach on days off if we could.”

He sits up, pulling away from Bruce a bit, and reaches into his pocket to pull something out of it - something small enough to fit inside his closed fist, which he doesn’t open right away.

“And then there was . . . there was something else.”

Bruce turns and looks at him. Dick’s eyes are thoughtful, and warm, and a little sad.

“I think she forgot it was in her jewelry box,” he says, looking down at his hand, still clenched tight around something Bruce can’t see. “She talked about it a lot, actually. She always believed she’d lost it somewhere. She wasn’t a terribly superstitious person, it wasn’t that, not really, but it was a habit. And it was special to her. She’d gotten it from her mother.” He opens his palm and looks down into it, but Bruce still can’t quite see what he’s holding. “And the first thing I thought when I opened the box . . .” He shakes his head suddenly, looking up at Bruce with his eyes suspiciously bright. “I’m not explaining this very well,” he says apologetically.

“Take as much time as you need,” says Bruce.

Dick opens his palm all the way, and holds it out for Bruce to see. It’s a tiny gold oval, tarnished and faded. It looks very, very old. Bruce isn’t Christian, but he’s seen enough holy medals to know one when he’s looking right at it. And despite the fact that whatever graven image the medal once held is impossible to make out - probably long since worn down by decades' worth of fingers rubbing it for luck - he knows enough about Mary Grayson to make an educated guess.

“Saint Sarah?” he guesses. “Patron saint of the Romani.” Dick nods. “This was your grandmother’s?”

“At least,” says Dick. “Maybe older. Mom didn’t really know. She said that her mother gave it to her as a child, for protection, and told her that nothing bad could ever happen to her as long as she had it with her.” He closes his eyes. “She didn’t know it was in the jewelry box, she didn’t know it was in Gibsonton,” he says dully. “She thought she’d lost it. Used to joke about how that meant she was unlucky now. It was funny, when I was little. Every time she got stung by a bee or something went wrong at rehearsal or she was the only one in the whole circus who caught whatever cold was going around, she and Dad would laugh about it. ‘If only you’d had your Saint Sarah medal, this would never have happened.’” One bright tear wavers for a moment on his thick black lashes before falling. Bruce watches its slow progress over the rise of Dick’s cheekbone and down his jaw, wanting to kiss it away but uncertain whether that’s pushing the moment too far. “The medal was in the jewelry box all those years,” he whispers, “and they only left the jewelry box in Gibsonton because they had me.”

Bruce is a pretty good detective, true, but he also knows Dick Grayson better than anyone else in the world, and Dick doesn’t need to say it out loud for Bruce to know exactly what fear is haunting him.

“Your parents’ death was not your fault,” he says quietly, moving closer and leaning forward just enough to rest his forehead against Dick’s. “Even if your grandmother’s belief was provable, Dick, even if the medal truly was some kind of talisman invoking the protection of a patron saint - well, I know very little about saints, but I have a hard time imagining any of them granting or withholding their favor as capriciously as that. Your mother didn’t discard it, after all. She didn’t give up on Saint Sarah because the medal was lost. Perhaps she had her own kind of private rituals or devotions that she maintained in her own way.” He takes Dick’s empty hand and squeezes it. “Or perhaps she had less need of a talisman in her life to make her feel like the luckiest woman in the world,” he murmurs, “once her child was born and she realized how blessed she really was. Maybe she allowed herself to forget it because she didn’t need it anymore, the way she had when she was a child. Maybe it was all right for her to let it go. Mary Grayson always seemed to me like a woman who made her own luck. And her life was more than the worst thing that ever happened to her. She would be happy that her things have finally come home to you, Dick, but she would never, ever want you to blame yourself for being the reason that she’s gone.”

Dick sinks heavily against Bruce’s chest, not fully crying yet but not able to speak either. Bruce can feel the emotions pressing him down with a palpable weight. He’s so preoccupied with listening to Dick’s breathing to make sure it’s steady and he isn’t heading towards an anxiety attack, that at first he doesn’t notice the feeling of something small and warm and hard being pressed into the palm of his hand.

He looks up at Dick, who closes Bruce’s fist around the medal and lays his own hand over it before lifting his head to meet Bruce’s eyes.

“I know you don’t believe in it,” he says. “I don’t even know if I believe in it. But I need you to take it. I need you to have this, Bruce. Keep it with you, and don’t let it go. I’ll sleep better if you do.”

“Dick -”

"I lost you once," Dick says roughly. "I'm not going to lose you again."

Bruce closes his eyes. He doesn't know what to say.

“If anything ever happened to you, and I wasn’t there,” Dick tries to say, but he can’t quite get the words out.

“Dick,” Bruce says softly. “I’m honored to hold a piece of your family’s history. I’m honored to have this. It’s priceless to me, to have something in my life that belonged to your parents. I don’t want you to think that I don’t . . .” He swallows hard. “That I don’t know what this means.”

That your family is my family. That my family is your family. That if they were alive today, Mary Grayson would be my mother-in-law one day and Martha Wayne would be yours. That it would matter to you, that much, what they thought of me, and what I thought of them.

“So yes,” Bruce says. “I’ll keep this. I’ll keep it forever. I’ll treasure it. But I don’t need a talisman to protect me and keep me safe, Dick. I already have you. And you’re all I need.”

#brudick #brudick fic #my fic #fic prompts #from the inbox #bruce wayne #dick grayson #batman #nightwing #bruce wayne x dick grayson #brucedick

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skepticbeliever-bookclub · 1 year

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Hey there, shippers & readers!

Ever wonder about the fics that don’t make it through the final round of voting for the bi-weekly read in the book club? You’re in luck!

The book club is structured so that we solicit nominations from our members, either based on a theme or a trope or simply a request for their favorites, and develop a list of ten nominations, which are then narrowed down to a top three. The top three fics end up in our weekend vote and the winner of that vote becomes our book club fic for that week.

This past week was a bit special! We announced the winners of our Q1 participation raffle, and one of our prizes was getting to select theme of our next read. Our winner selected Case Fic, and our members combed the tag for their nominations.

The following are the runners-up to our winner, and are excellent cases to settle in with while you wait to see who we’re reading as a group this week.

The Thrilling Case of the Mysterious Five - MiraclesofPaul

Shane has spent the last two years arguing with Agent Bergara, a crazy conspiracy theorist and believer in the supernatural. When a woman goes missing, they hit the road to investigate The Five, a cult that chases UFOs around the country.

An X-Files AU if Mulder and Scully initially hated each other and constantly got into unprofessional arguments.

The Private Detective’s Songbook - ma_malice

The man who had rented the room before him had also been a PI, and so Detective Shane Madej’s door still read CC TINSLEY & ASSOCIATES, PRIVATE INVESTIGATORS in peeling gold letters.

Along with the door, he’d inherited Tinsley’s desk, his reputation, and one badly-lit corridor’s worth of neighbors. These included a disreputable tattooist, an off-book accountant and, of course, The Mystic Oracle: Spirit Connexions and Communications.

LA, 1927 – Shane’s a jaded Private Eye. Ryan’s a two-bit Spiritualist. Together, they’re going to solve a murder.

WOULD YOU LIKE TO JOIN US FOR OUR NEXT DISCUSSION? CHECK OUT THE FAQ, AND SEND US AN ASK! IF YOU’RE LOOKING FOR FIC RECS, PLEASE CHECK OUT OUR READS, NOMINEES AND BOOK CLUB REC LISTS!

#shyan #skeptic believer #otp: we took an oath #weekly read runners up #case fic

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harmonyandco · 3 years

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Black and Bones, PIs Both Harry and Susan come out of the war more than a little disillusioned, and neither sees the Aurors as the place to go anymore. So they start a detective agency, straddling the Muggle and Wizarding Worlds, with a focus on people who’ve had bad experiences with magic. Harry goes all in on noir, always looking for a dark alley to lurk in, and in his case reports the weather is always dark and rainy. Susan…can be less than amused by it, but his skill at clearing cases always impresses her. Of course his secret is his bushy-haired, Unspeakable wife, who is always willing to lend him an ear.

@j0nas3

#j0nas3 #harry x hermione #harmony #au #noir #detective harry #Susan Bones #post war #love this #PI Harry #unspeakable hermione

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jotatetsuken · 2 years

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No Body, No Crime (Private Investigator AU)

Summary: Kento Nanami’s a renowned private investigator in Japan, who’s known to deal with cases that deal with paranormal activity or what’s known to him as “cursed energy.” When Ijichi, the assistant manager of his PI firm gets a call to look into another case, Kento recognizes that this case was earlier declared an open-and-shut case by (F/N) (L/N), another renowned PI who was known to have solved cases within days of receiving them. Initially irked with her methods of solving the cases, especially since she's not like him, he decides that he has to approach her for help, else this will remain a cold case yet to be solved. As time passes by, secrets slowly unravel, the distance between them decreases, and the outcome would come out as a surprise to them.

Pairing: Kento Nanami x Fem! Reader

Genre: Detective/Private Investigator AU, Crime, Suspense, Slowburn, Angst

Warnings: Mentions of blood, murder, usage of weapons, fighting, crying, betrayal

Status: Ongoing, will post chapter 2 soon

Taglist: Please fill this if you want to be a part of the tag list for this story :)

A/N: This will be cross posted on Wattpad as well :) Also, there will be dark content, so minors please block #shh dark con warn for this. Also, there will be a smut chapter involved (epilogue), but it will be posted on @musings-and-moans , since that's my NSFW blog.

Masterlist:

Chapter 1: I hate to admit it, but…

Chapter 2: What’s in it for me?

Chapter 3: Reunited and it feels so good?

Chapter 4: I think he did it, I can’t prove it

Chapter 5: The truth hurts, doesn't it?

Chapter 6: What goes around, comes around

Chapter 7: Always

Epilogue: If I Ain't Got You

#nanami kento #kento nanami #jujustu kaisen #jjk fanfic #private investigator #detective au #ijichi kiyotaka #gojo satoru #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jjk x reader #nanami x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #no body no crime #no body no crime series #shyna muses #shh dark con warn #musings of an extrovert

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divinefireangel · 2 years

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AUs from Trauma MV

Cause why not ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

All of them imply smut lmaoo💀💀

Youngbin - Arranged Marriage AU

Actor! Youngbin x Rich Heir! Reader

An arranged marriage? With an actor? Your parents must have surely lost it. What even are the advantages of marrying their daughter to an actor and not another rich heir? What will you do to get out of this non negotiable contract?

Inseong - Professor x Student AU

Magician! Inseong x Student! Y/N

Magic is all illusions and tricks right? Are you strong enough to mask up your attraction towards your magic professor? Will he fall for your tricks? Will you fall on your knees for him?

Jaeyoon - Mafia AU

Stripper! Y/N x Hot Mafia! Jaeyoon

Rich and hot mafia leader just wanted to let off some steam in a very private session. You aren't crazy to say no to someone like him. And so here you are now, tangled up in his arms without knowing that you'll get even more tangled up in his world in days to come.

Dawon - Idiots to Lover AU

Bookstore Owner! Dawon x Writer! Y/N

Oh what a coincidence to meet a cute guy on your stroll around the city on a sunny day? But something about his strong look and confidence draws you in more than you wanted to, and he doesn't seem to mind.

Zuho - Detective AU

Undercover PI! Zuho x Undercover Detective! Reader

Of course private investigators and government detectives don't get along! What we're you thinking when you agreed to go undercover with one to catch the killer of the Choi family heir. They say he's the best, everyone knows you are the best, what will happen when you collide?

Rowoon - Celebrity AU

Arrogant Chess Prodigy! Rowoon x Fan! Reader

He knows he's the best. Why wouldn't he be? So many fans and fanatics who will give up their life for this tall, hot, talented man, what makes you different? Can you handle how he analyses you like another game of chess?

Yoo Taeyang - Criminal/Detective AU

Criminal! YooTae x Detective! Reader

When you took over the case you didn't think you'd end up falling in love with the criminal who's helping you crack the biggest case of your career so far. How tragic will it be when he realises that you have to arrest him once your case is done.

Hwiyoung - Non idol! AU

Photographer! Hwiyoung x Model! Reader

When your agency sent you for a shoot with one of the most cold and staunch yet skilled photographers, you didn't expect him to be so gentle with you during the shoot and so rough after work. Well he definitely knew how to make you listen to him, no questions asked.

Chani - CEO AU

Young CEO! Chani x Heartbreaker! Reader

How patiently does your boyfri- I mean ex-boyfriend wait for you to come to your favorite restaurant, that he rented out entirely to propose to you. What's gonna happen when you don't show up?

Me thinking slight Yandere AU also here 👀

#am i gonna make these into fics?#do i want to?#absolutely.#sf9 #trauma #sf9 trauma #rumination #sf9 comeback #sf9 10th mini album #sf9 fics #sf9 imagines

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davishater · 2 years

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My Sk8 The Infinity writings masterlist (mainly stuff with Reki):

Twisted Wonderland Masterlist

Digimon Masterlist (coming soon)

Ron Kamonohashi: Deranged Detective Masterlist *NEW*

Sk8/Reki talk

I love sad Reki.

Describing 2/3 of my comfort characters

Thirsting over Reki Kyan's FINE neck for his birthday 2022

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Reasons why I kin Reki more than any of y'all

Reki ceramic skateboard

Headcanons

Reki would definitely say this

Reki and Halloween night

Reki and lo-fi

Reki and Me

Carving tool

Oki Narwhal

Reki reminds me of the best way that I can feel my emotions (not considered part of my Reki Comforts Me AU Series).

Epel Duece 🍎🧃 (featuring Epel and Duece from Twisted Wonderland)

Bug Equality

Reki Addiction AU

Part 1 (more parts coming soon)

I'll See You Next Summer Reki x Reader:

Part 1 (coming soon)

Reki Comforts Me AU Series:

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

Part 11

Reki's life at home headcanon series:

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

"Dinosaur who???"

Dreaming Of The Future

Kyo Kara Maoh X Sk8 The Infinity Chaotic Crossover Series:

Part 1

Part 2

Reki's Life At Work Season 1 (Based Off Me Working In A Grocery Store Bakery)

84 trash cans

Hit on me

Dropping cakes

Dream with Oka

Dream with Reki

"I don't know geography."

Oka's mean!?

"Ok, but what if that's all bulk items, hehehe?"

My heart 🥺😭

Crackalackin'

Don't mind me, just over here getting my toe crushed....

Floors clean

Talking about squid game

Baguette Sniffing

Oka's Allergies

What's updog?

Speechless Reki

Miya hates his job so much, that it should honestly be it's own series. 😂

Squishy pies

Oka's scaring customers

Reki eating brownies

Reki lying over the phone

Reki can't hear, which also needs to be it's own series

Bruh probably had a whole script she had to read before letting me answer her. 🙄

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openheartfanfics · 3 years

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Newly Added Fics

Mar 28 - April 3

Bryce x F!MC

Go Easy - @kat-tia801 🎭 After messing up his surgery, Bryce talks to a fellow surgical resident about what really happened in to OR. Feat. F!OC [3.6; Traumatic]

Goodnight - @trappedinfanfiction ☁ After a late night shift, it’s good to get a call from her boyfriend.

Simple and True - @theonewiththeunconquerablesoul ☁ Sometimes, all it takes is for one person to see the light that shines within.

Surf Trip - @glamtori ♥ Takes place in early December of book 2, not long after the attack. [2.12]

The Enemy of My Enemy - @burnsoslow 🍘 Ethan Ramsey hater Lexie is pleased about the new addition to the diagnostics team, though worries over her missing boyfriend prevail other emotions. TW: Anti-Ethan Feat. Tobias Carrick [3.5]

Ethan x F!MC

Adore You - @xxtraord1nary ☁ A snippet into what a morning day off with the Ramsey’s would like. [Partnership]

All I Ever Wanted - @aworldoffandoms ☁ “All I ever wanted is right here in front of me.”

All The Things That I Love About You - @aka-calliope ☁ Ethan can't sleep, and neither can his son. [Family]

An Ideal Reality - @xxtraord1nary ☁ A day to remember. When two lonely souls joined to become one full hearted union. When a woman became a Ramsey and a man became the happiest on earth. [Partnership; Wedding]

Art of War - @starrystarrytrouble ☁ When it comes to MC, Ethan doesn’t quite trust Tobias. Feat. Tobias x F!MC [3.6; Jealousy; Protective]

Away in DC - @potionsprefect ☁ Ethan has to leave for a medical conference and the family learn to deal with it. [Conference; Family]

Blurry Night - @alina-yol-ramsey 🎭 Ethan sees MC 3 years after their breakup. Written completely from Ethan's POV. [Break Up; Ethan’s POV]

Closed Chapters, Sealed Letters - @xxtraord1nary 🎭

Detectives By Chance - @monsoonblooms12 🛸📚 [extended: wip] It was supposed to be a usual weekend for the four. Coffee, fun, friends and love. But an unexpected case changed their lives in a way they had never imagined. A mystery - a murder - many secrets…

Ch. 6: Unforseen

Distracted Art Appreciation - @queenbirbs ♥ It takes him fifty-six days in the jungle to get over her. Or, well, so he thought. [Amazon; 2.4]

Fracture - @choiceskatie ☁ Casey's friends to find out about her and Ethan. [Find Out]

His Kiss of Life - @xxtraord1nary ♥ A tedious work gala takes a sensual turn and becomes a hot night filled with passion and heated restroom affairs. Warnings: Cursing, Spanking, Dirty Talk, Rough Sex. [Gala]

It’s time to go - @genevievemd 🎭 Instead of leaving, Camila decides to get to the bottom of how Ethan Ramsey fell in love and got engaged. Part 2 of Champagne Problems [That Med School Lover]

Late Night Call - @perriewinklenerdie ☁ Claire gets fed up with Bloom when he interrupts her evening alone with Ethan. [3.6]

Mariposa - @jamespotterthefirst ☁ Ethan should have known better than to take dancing lessons with his vivacious girlfriend. Set in Book 3. [3.5; Date]

Observation - @potionsprefect ☁ Tobias was sure there was something going on between Ethan and Victoria. [3.6]

Private Lessons - @jamespotterthefirst ♥ Two years later, Ethan finally makes good on those private lessons she suggested the first time they met. [3.6]

Relax - @lem-20 ♥ MC helps Ethan unwind after a stressful day at work. [3.6]

The Fourteenth (II.) - @terrm9 ☁🍰 Pi Day fic [Other Smaller Holidays]

Waiting - @lucy-268 ☁ Charley wants a quiet dinner, but a stranger insists on bothering her.

Waiting - @perriewinklenerdie ☁ Ethan and Tobias talk as they wait for the surgery to be over. ft. cute moments between Ethan and Claire Feat. Soon-to-be Besties E & T [3.5]

Why are you lying to me? - @therookie 📚 [mini: wip ]

Part 1 | Part 2

Ethan x M!MC

What If It Were You? - @missmiimiie 🎭 Ethan and Daniel talk about his decision about Francis. [3.5]

Love Triangle

Art of War - @starrystarrytrouble ☁ When it comes to MC, Ethan doesn’t quite trust Tobias. Feat. Tobias x F!MC x Ethan [3.6]

Tobias x F!MC

POV - @xxtraord1nary ♥ A very naughty and heavily pregnant Charlotte much prefers her handsome lovers point of view.

SUBMIT OPEN HEART FICS & WRITERS HERE

#open heart #open heart fanfic #open heart fanfiction #choices open heart #open heart fanfics #bryce lahela #bryce x mc #ethan ramsey #ethan x mc #ethan ramsey x mc #bryce lahela x mc #tobias carrick #tobias x mc #tobias carrick x mc #newly added fics

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kittensjonsa · 4 years

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Trophy Wife

Another day, another detective-lawyer tag team duo Jonsa AU nobody asked for lol. Has this been done before? No idea but for some reason, this was dying to get out of my system, so I just had to -so please bear with it. Or not, up to you (trigger warning below).

Summary: Sansa needs help in bringing down one of the worst criminals of the century - and save her abducted best friend. Jon, a shy elusive private investigator offers a helping hand. Sparks fly when things heat up, while going undercover. *winks*

Rated NC-17 to E for language and content. Major trigger warning for abuse (various). I am neither a lawyer nor a PI so forgive me if I get some of the terms wrong. Part One of (maybe, let’s see) Three. Enjoy! x

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Part One

Eviction. Jon hated that word. He hated hearing it, hated being threatened by it and now there it was, written all over his door on a notice in red capital letters. Fuck you too, he thought as he tore off the paper. I'll say when I'll go. This was not a time for moving houses or looking for a new place. He was busy, there were things to do and places to hide in. If only they could spare him a couple more months, that was all he needed, if the rent he owed was correct in his head. Jon had lived in his car once and he couldn't live through that again.

Besides, he was on a roll. At least, he'd like to think so. Clients were coming in and he had more jobs that he did a year ago. Of course, that was largely due to his success in uncovering the biggest scandal in all of Westeros - involving the Lannisters and a certain pair of twins who had relations with one another, in a biblical sense, or so it seemed. It did not help one bit when the Lannisters were also the family everyone loved to hate, and Jon probably did the country a huge favour when the news went public. Within days, it was reported that any Lannisters who planned to run for government office were rejected, shunned and ridiculed. So much so, that they went into hiding. Good riddance.

You reap what you sow. They had it coming, Jon told himself. And truthfully, he relished every second of it, bringing down the notorious family - such a satisfying accomplishment it was. It was just ironic that a member of the Lannister family had hired him, turning the evidence into a weapon and declaring war against the Lannister legacy. So much for a happy family.

The pay check from the Lannister job was substantial enough and managed to pay his debts that he owed but when it came to maintaining the business, the cash quickly ran out. Furthermore, it did not help that his clients would only pay once they had received proof that their suspicions were right all along, which took some time. Jon hadn't even counted his gas money and meals during stake outs or the electricity bills that soared after spending late nights playing and watching video tapes over and over. Surveillance was a costly, slow and painstaking process but essential, in getting the dough and the job done.

Maybe I'm too nice. Jon wished he had stipulated a clause in his contract that required a deposit before he accepted any assignments. But frail crying wives desperate to get out of loveless marriages were not people he wanted to take advantage of and a lawyer, he was not. If he had a therapist licence, perhaps it would be more useful in bringing in the bucks. Still, through word of mouth, steadily the business grew - apparently, spying on people was a lucrative outfit. Jon couldn't recall earning this much when he worked at his former security firm at Castle Black.

“So, you'll do it?” the gentleman asked, sliding an envelope towards him. Jon opened it and took a peek, in it had a flash drive and a rolled up wad of cash, which looked like a few thousands.

“I would. But you must know that I work best alone,” Jon agreed.

“Oh no. Not for this one. It will be difficult to crack this one without a partner.”

Smart ass. Trying to tell me how to do my job. The cash looks good though. It'll help tide over a couple of things.

“All right. So I need a partner. You have to give me some time to look for one. And that's going to cost you, you know that right?”

The gentleman smiled and drummed his fingers on the dining table. “Oh, I know that. But what if I already have a partner for you? She's ready to work on this with you.”

“She? Whoa.. back up for a second. I didn't say I needed female partner. Besides, this isn't a job for a lady, if what you told me is true.”

“Trust me, she's on board with this a hundred percent. I trust her to do the job, above and beyond.”

Jon was still reluctant. The quick and easy cash advance had come with its own conditions. “Okay. Does she have a name? I'd have to do background checks, you know and all of that, for safety reasons.”

“Of course. All you need on her is on the flash drive in there,” he pointed to the envelope Jon was resting his hands on. “Besides, she's my niece.”

“Your what? And you're okay with her getting involved?”

He nodded and turned his attention back to his newly refilled coffee. Jon couldn't believe his ears. What kind of uncle are you?

“She feels as strongly about this than just about anyone. Maybe more. And she volunteered. I suppose she has her reasons. How can I say no that?”

“Yeah... but we're investigating an alleged sex ring. Are we not? Seems a little inappropriate, don't you think?” Jon whispered as he leaned in, wondering what kind of shenanigans people are up to these days.

Jon watched as he put down his mug and adjusted the glasses that sat low on the bridge of his nose. He didn't strike Jon as a sleazeball, the kind who would sell and pimp anything or anyone to make a buck. He was mysterious yet friendly, sophisticated yet ruggedly worn, as if he had seen enough ills in his lifetime.

“A human trafficking ring, to be exact. We've been trying to go after them for years but they get away with it every time. You know why? Because all evidence pointing to them were ruled inadmissible. Come on, you've read about it in the papers, on the news. Day in, day out we built the case and every time we find something worthwhile, another detail or another statement comes up and render the leads useless.”

It was true. It was all over the media - the Boltons and the Freys accused of allegedly running an illegal sex trade. But to Jon, it seemed that there was all there was to it. People wanting to have a bit of fun at a party isn’t that new or illegal, he thought, even though he depised the Boltons and the Freys as much as the next decent guy on the street. Unless of course, if the ring was made up of abducted girls or worse, minors. That would truly be despicable and one that warranted medieval torture and capital punishment. This is going to be quite the undertaking, Jon suddenly realised.

“Have you considered going to the police... or your client going to the police for help? Instead of a private investigator.”

Jon waited for an answer as both their eyes met, one was smiling and the other was not.

“You don't think the police isn't involved in this? Not investigating, no that. We have reason to believe that members of the police are themselves the perpetrators. I'm talking high ranking officials, son. So, you see why we have to.. approach this in another way.”

“Okay, I see your point. All right then. I'll need to meet this niece of yours, so I can clue her in on how to go about this. Though, I'm not sure how it'll work.”

“I am sure you'll try your best. Believe me, Jon, if we win this case, it'll be the biggest one yet. It's something greater than all of us. It's for the greater good. I can't quite discuss names or details than what I've just told you or who my client is but the money? There's more where that came from. Here's my card, should you need anything.”

Jon looked at the name card. “ Well, you sold me there. We'll be in touch, Mr Stark.”

“Likewise, Jon. Oh, and call me Ben. I hope to hear from you soon.”

Jon watched as Benjen Stark left the diner and into his Mercedes, as he contemplated his next step. This was a big job, and Benjen was right, he probably could not handle it alone. Still, Jon was curious and intrigued, wondering whom his partner was.

Jon jolted up from his bed when the doorbell rang. It was only eight in the morning and Jon did not recall ordering anything that required an early morning delivery. Ugh, what..

Jon stumbled out of bed, clad only in yesterday's jeans and stepping on notes scattered everywhere in his room. His living room wasn't spared either, with boxes of carefully labelled tapes stacked haphazardly in every corner.

“Jon Snow? Hi, I'm Sansa Stark. My uncle.. he spoke with you yesterday..”

Jon rubbed his eyes and squinted at the blurry figure in front of him. His eyes were stubbornly still asleep. Slowly but gradually, in the few minutes that it took for Jon to recover from his sleep-ridden stupor, his vision came round and found himself gazing at a tall redhead standing before him. Whoa.. okay.

“Bad time? I can come back later,” she said, sheepish at the sight of a sleepy half naked man yawning at her.

“No.. wait. You're the niece? Of Benjen?” Jon said, as memories from last night's meeting came to mind.

Sansa nodded. “The very one. He says I'll be working with you. On the case?”

It was way too early to be discussing details about work or anything, really and Jon needed a cup of good strong black coffee to stay awake. Shouldn't have read the file at three in the morning.

“Right. Come on in.” Jon opened the door wider as he led her into the living room. Sansa accepted the invite, albeit with caution as she stepped in, carefully steering clear of the boxes and files around her.

“Pardon the mess, I don't get visitors much. Coffee?” Jon apologized as he helped himself to a cup of chilled coffee from the fridge. It was a norm now, keeping coffee from the night before, to save money. It didn't taste as good as freshly brewed coffee but it woke him nonetheless.

“Uhh.. no thanks. Water's fine.”

Jon watched the lady seated on his couch waiting politely for him to finish. He had gone through the file on her as Benjen had given. Graduated with honours at the top of her class at University of Westeros' Law School. Interned for two years at one of the top firms right after graduation and now a junior partner at Stark, Tully & Reed. Perhaps one of the most fascinating fact was that Sansa Stark had been on the prosecuting team in the 'Lannister vs the people' case. It was no wonder the Starks had come looking for him. He guessed he probably didn't need any further introductions, for now.

“So, how about we start about why you're here, Miss Stark,” Jon said, handing her a glass of tap water.

Sansa thanked him as she took the glass from his hand and set it down on an empty spot on the cluttered coffee table.

“Sansa, please. First of all, I apologize for not letting you know that I was coming. I did call and text yesterday but I suppose you were asleep. It was late anyway. Sorry about that.”

Jon then remembered his phone, which was now likely dead since he forgot to charge it. Oops.

“Oh, did you? Lately been trying to kind of de-plug every once in a while. But yeah, I might have fallen asleep too. Had some notes to go through and kind of forgot about my phone. My bad.”

Sansa smiled and took a small sip of water. “Oh.. that's all right. Anyway, let's start over. I'm Sansa Stark and I'll be working with you. I believe my uncle has filled you in? Pleased to meet you, Mr Jon Snow.” Sansa offered her hand.

Jon returned the handshake with a wary smile. “Pleasure's all mine. And please, Sansa, call me Jon. So, I'm guessing you know what we're working with?”

“I do. I was the one who put it together so I should know more about it than anyone.”

Benjen said he couldn't share details about who the client was and now Jon was curious. Sansa Stark seemed a force to be reckoned with - coming up and putting together a case of this magnitude could either be the ruin or the highlight of her law career.

“I see. Well, I must say I'm impressed. But you do know this can be dangerous work, right? If what your uncle says is true.”

“If it means saving hundreds from a cruel fate then I'm all for it. Besides-”

A loud rumbling growl startled Sansa to a pause mid sentence.

Jon's cheeks reddened, patting his stomach. “Umm..Do you think we could talk about this over breakfast? I.. I had a light dinner yesterday.”

Sansa bit down her lip as tried to stifle her giggle. This man is hilarious. Cute though. She didn't mind at all working alongside him. “Sure. I'm buying.”

Awesome. I don't mind it at all. Nothing more Jon loved than rich people willing to spend. But a cheap greasy diner breakfast with all the works was just what he needed right now. He can think of other fancy things later.

“I hope you don't mind. Not many fancy places around here,” Jon pointed to a booth in the diner, right in a corner where he usually sat every day and night. Grenn, the owner and chef who was also a friend and neighbour, made sure it was always empty and reserved just for him.

Sansa beamed at him, her striking blue eyes sparkling in the morning sun. “Are you kidding me? Diners are the best. The only places that helped through mid terms and finals. And man, they were gruelling. I would retreat to a diner and have a chocolate banana milkshake whenever things got a little tough. This.. is nice.”

Jon felt at ease immediately. Something told him he was going to have a great time working the case.

“So, tell me. Why 'Trophy Wife'? I mean, can't you call it what it is?” Jon asked, in between mouthfuls of bacon and French toast.

“Well, it's a code word you know. Human trafficking, sex ring.. these are terms people are not comfortable hearing, especially in public or in an office. Besides, not many people know about it and it is absolutely crucial that it stays that way. Too much information shared with anyone else won’t be good for us. Plus, I think it's also because.. it seems the victims are forced and paraded as wives of these predators. You know, so it seems legit. But that’s just a guess. I know deep down, there's nothing legitimate about it.”

“Good point.” Jon concurred, shoving the last piece of French toast into his mouth.

“You want to hear a story? We actually managed to get hold of a marriage certificate, you know, one that shared a victim's name on it. But get this - it was fake. There was no such church nor was there any minister with that name. It was a bust.”

“Yikes. Okay, so that should be proof enough right? I mean, right there is already fraud.”

Sansa sighed. “Yeah, up until someone accused us of fabricating the marriage certificate. I mean, we couldn't use it at all since it was fake. It definitely derailed the investigation for a while and it was the only promising lead we had. I believe there are still many. Out there. We just have to make sure the case won't go cold.”

Jon had to ask, seeing how fired up Sansa seemed about the whole thing. “Can I ask you something? If you don't mind my asking. Why this? I mean there are so many easier cases out there waiting.. but why this one?”

Sansa looked at him and looked away, turning towards the window.

“Jeyne Poole was twenty five years old when she went missing last year. Next month would be her seventh month missing. Her parents are worried sick and her mom had a stroke because of it. Jeyne was last seen at her place of work and that was it. She just disappeared and dropped from the face of the earth. That's not Jeyne to pull something like that.”

“What do you mean?”

Jon's furrowed brows prompted her further. “She's my age and my best friend, Jon. And no matter what, I have to search for her. Whether she's dead or alive.”

Jon was no stranger to hearing heavily personal details and he thought he could handle all the doom and gloom thrown his way, but this had him a little shaken up.

If he wasn't convinced before, he was sure as hell now. It was a dark treacherous path ahead but Sansa was a woman on a mission. And Jon knew well already, not to get in her way.

“Right. So, what do you need from me?”

It was a quiet walk back to his apartment as the brevity of the situation started to sink in. He may be a mediocre private investigator but a mediocre human being, he was not planning to be. Armed with new information and Sansa's fervour rubbing off on him, Jon was determined to find and annihilate the fuckers, if they really were the Boltons and the Freys, even better. Two less scumbags in the world would be a huge win; they won’t be missed. Sansa and him would be saving, hopefully, not just Jeyne Poole but dozens of vulnerable young women from the very clutches of evil itself.

“I can share the workload with you, if you want. You know, go over the details, help out on surveillance, research all that stuff,” Sansa suggested, as she flipped through the pages of the folder Jon had compiled. It had only a couple of handwritten notes with addresses and names along with documents he printed from the flash drive he was given. He was keen to find some kind of link and honestly, two brains were definitely better than one for it.

“Don't you have a job to attend to? I mean, I don't mind the help but I don't think it's fair that I take you away from what pays your bills. If... you do that sort of thing.”

Sansa shrugged. “One of the perks of living with your parents, I guess, is not paying bills and still having a roof over your head. I've got some money saved and since this is my case, I managed to get an expense budget for it. So, that's covered I guess.”

Jon scoffed. Rich people. “And this expense budget... is from your client?”

“I am not at liberty to say but up to you what to believe. All I know is, what we need for this case, is settled and paid for. Nothing is spared.”

Must be nice being rich.

“Well, you don't say, this client could give us a temporary office to work in, no? I mean, I don't mind doing it out if my house but-”

“You're being evicted in less than two weeks. I know. I had some checks done on you, Jon. Safety reasons, I'm sure you know. But granted, it's not ideal, But I think we may have just the place.. I mean, for the time being. Though.. it's going to take some work and I'll brief you on that soon.” Sansa offered as Jon unlocked his apartment door.

“Okay..that’s a first for me. I mean, if it’s no imposition, I-”

“Yeah, it’s totally fine. But hey love to chat but I kinda have to go. Can I take this with me? I'll make you a copy,” Sansa grabbed the folder and walked up to the door, casually glazing over the bit where he was about to be homeless soon. Damn lawyers.

“I was going to pay, you know. It's just that I had to settle other bills first,” Jon explained, though it was futile knowing who he was talking to.

“That's all right. Doesn't make you a bad person. You had priorities, it's understandable. Although if you’re planning on living in your car, I don't think all the boxes in your living room would fit.”

It didn't faze Jon how she had known about him living in his car once upon a hard time and he couldn't agree more. He couldn't exactly afford a storage unit either since the material he had was sensitive and would spell trouble if anything got lost or stolen.

“So, I'll show you the new place? You can come pick up your stuff later this weekend if you want.”

Jon found himself with renewed enthusiasm, relieved that he said yes to the assignment. Whatever tomorrow brings, he'll face it head on, with a swanky new roof over his head.

Bring it on.

#jonsa #jonsa x sansa #jonsa au #jonsa fic #crime fighting jonsa #super sansa #jon is kind of a sidekick but a good one #jon snow is a feminist in my aus #trigger warning: various kinds of abuse #modern jonsa au

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lailannajacobs · 4 years

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Works in Progress!

Hey all! I thought that seeing as I’ve been a bit unactive on this site lately, I’d share with you some of the fics that are in the works! I’m not sure when I’ll have them out for, but I’m hoping to find some time among school to get them out for you! Let me know if there’s any that catch your attention! If you send in an ask, I can tell you a little more about it! <3

One Shots

The Harder they Fall (Loki x reader from another planet)

Crazyland (Bucky x reader: 40s AU)

Changing Reality (Halloween Special)

Series

Hell of a View (PI Bucky x detective!reader: modern AU fake dating)

Untitled series (Loki x reader: Fantasy AU + fake dating)

Mixed Drinks about Feelings (Billy Russo x reader: Modern AU + fake dating)

#marvel fic #loki fanfic #bucky fanfic #fan fiction #fake dating #wip #i'm super excited to show you

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slipsthrufingers · 5 years

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Fanfic meme

I was tagged by @luthienebonyx

At what age did you start writing fanfiction?

13. The first day of high school I met a girl who wrote Buffy fanfiction in a notebook. We bonded over a shared love of Harry Potter and 18 years later she’s still my best friend. I started writing that year and have been writing on and off ever since, though I reached my peak in my late teens/early 20s when I wrote in X-Men roleplaying games on greatestjournal.

Who is your favorite author?

Depends on the fandom, really. My favourite thing is when a treasured author from one fandom dips their toes in a different fandom of mine and so I get to appreciate their talents in different spheres. @primarybufferpanel is one that comes to mind recently. I love her Mad Max Fury Road fiction and now she’s started writing Jaime/Brienne and I 🥰🥰🥰.

Favorite type of scene to write?

I like working on description, and trying to find an interesting balance between description and dialogue. I particularly like scenes where two characters have some serious conflict to work out (I am still very proud of a Jon Snow + Edmure Tully scene I have written in one of my WIPs).

What is your favorite fanfic?

At the moment, hands down, it’s A Man For All Seasons by @dreadwulf. To the point that I just have to start typing ‘A man’ in my browser search bar and the top predicted result is the fic. I have reread sections of it over and over again and each time it smacks me in the face with the intensity of emotion and characterisation. Her portrayal of both Jaime and Brienne is nuanced and sympathetic and to be honest sometimes I can’t find the words to describe just how much I love it, so it’s easier to just like, make heart eyes.

What tags do you avoid like the plague?

I don’t have any in particular, but I do tend to avoid fanworks that have fifty different fandoms and fifty different ships. Also, any kind of crossover with the SuperWhoLock/Teen Wolf fandoms. I don’t need that kind of intensity in my life.

What AU do you wish to write but feel like you won’t manage?

Haha, all my life is AUs. I’m currently working on two WIPs that have been haunting me for a year at least, literally. They both want to be Epic Fics and they intimidate me a little bit, tbh.

A Modern Crime AU where the Stark sisters go missing after the deaths of the rest of their family. Detective Jaime Lannister, currently on desk duty, isn’t allowed to investigate, so he asks his old academy buddy, PI Brienne Tarth to find them instead. I’m currently stuck on this one because the scope of characters keeps expanding and I don’t know how to make them all work together towards a common goal, but there are some sections of it I am very very proud of.

The other AU is one where all of Brienne’s siblings survive into adulthood, and explores the changes to her character and to the wider plot that would come from her a) not having the pressure of being the Evenstar’s heir, but also b) having more loving family surrounding her, defending her, supporting her. This one is puttering along more successfully, but I haven’t outlined much past where I’m currently up to and I worry about where I would finish it (because I have no intention of writing an AU that would last all the way until A Dream Of Spring).

Do you outline or write as you go?

A bit of column a, a bit of column b. I’ve found having a rough sketch helps me create achievable goals, but lets me still have a bit of freedom to explore where the plot/characters want to go.

What has been your favorite story to write so far?

All of my stories have been my favourite at one point or another, but the lasting ones, the ones I still enjoy reading myself, are Perspectives, a Clint/Natasha 5 things fic I did for a Secret Santa challenge, and From the Sacrificial Altar, which is a The Mummy fic I wrote for Yuletide. I hate the title of that one, but it’s also my most successful fic on AO3, so I’ll leave it. I still think it’s funny.

Do you prefer to write one-shots or multi-chapters? Why?

I want to be able to write one-shots, but multi-chap seems to be where my brain is at these days.

What is your favorite kind of comment?

Any kind of comment!

Why did you start writing fanfiction? Why are you still writing it?

I started writing to share with my friends, and I keep writing to give myself a creative outlet, though these days it feels like more of an isolated process. Most of the friends I started writing with/for have moved on to other things, and I find it a bit lonesome. I feel like an introvert online sometimes, and I know I should put myself out there more, but it’s hard to find the energy when I have to perform extroversion all day.

I don’t really have anyone to tag to do this (see my comment about introversion)

#my fanfic #meta

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youcantkillamutant · 6 years

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The Mystery of the Golden Fang: Part 2, The Enlightenment

Part 1: The Collision

Author: youcantkillamutant

Fandom: Marvel (Black Panther)

Pairing: Erik Stevens/Killmonger x Black!OC

Summary: A girl stumbles into another world. A baby disappears. A private investigator wonders if this will be the case he can’t solve.

Warnings: Mentions of blood, cursing

Words: 9K

A/N: So…here’s another one of those AU’s that absolutely no one asked for! I only own my original characters of course, Marvel don’t sue me I’m broke.

Listening to: Lightyears by Kimbra, Werewolf Heart by Dead Man’s Bones, Bad Ritual by Timber Timbre, and Blood on My Hands by Danielle Parente

Part 2: The Enlightenment

—l—

When a candle burns, even the wind cannot no undo what has been melted by the fire.

—l—

Earth Stream 947: October 1, 2040

1:02AM

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.”

Hazel’s heart had done more than leap out of her chest. For all she knew the organ had departed her body completely, leaving her gasping and holding the hole in her chest. After N’Jadaka had dropped his…fangs, Hazel promptly took three steps back and clutched the baby so tightly she woke up. Now Hazel focused on the baby’s eyes; wide, brown, round, and curious while she tried to breathe through whatever was happening in her body.

N’Jadaka took a few steps back from the human in confusion. Who is this chick? N’Jadaka had never met someone who didn’t know about vamps. And now this girl showed up with a baby and without a clue. He turned to Shuri in question.

“Shu, what the fuck am I supposed to do?”

“Well you have to tell her, especially after that little show of your fangs.”

“Yeah but look at her. She’s having a freaking heart attack. Wait do humans still have those?”

“Yes they do, so just be chill about it. Ease her into it. I’m sure if you present it to her in a rational way she’ll take it well. Probably.”

“Yeah, chill.” N’Jadaka nodded to himself as he mouthed the words again. Chill.

The girl seemed to have calmed down, though she was still taking careful breaths as N’Jadaka approached. He took in her brown skin and broad nose wondering for a moment if she was actually a fairy. He peered around her back for wings, but none appeared, and he resigned himself to having to explain his existence to a human, of all creatures.

“Now, I don’t want you to freak out okay? My cousin and I aren’t going to hurt you.” He approached her short form cautiously.

“Pretty sure those gold fangs beg to differ.” Even terrified and confused, Hazel managed to snark at the stranger. He had just flashed his razor sharp fangs at her.

“That was supposed to be funn––” N’Jadaka threw his arms up in surrender. “Forget it. My cousin and I are vampires, but we won’t––”

“Vampires?!” Hazel’s shriek was enough to startle the baby, but instead of holding a crying baby, suddenly Hazel was holding a whimpering ball of fur. Yelping Hazel squeezed the leather jacket curled around the fur ball tightly. It barked when it fell from Hazel’s arms, and she stumbled back. On the ground was a small jaguar cub; pied and blinking, Hazel couldn’t take her eyes off of it. Luckily, Shuri swept into the conversation.

“Sounds like she’s taking it well.” N’Jadaka curled his lips at the mirth in her voice.

“The kid turned into a jaguar on me! I can’t really keep things ‘chill’ after that.”

“Whatever you say cousin.”

“Wait, wait. You’re saying that baby, turned into that jaguar?” The cub was now playing with Terra, N’Jadaka’s panther familiar. They were a mass of black and golden fur, racing around in circles and nipping at each other’s tails playfully.

“Yep, your kid’s a shifter! Surprise!” Shuri completed the action with a cheesy grin and outstretched fingers while wandering towards the front doors.

“She’s not mine…” Hazel trailed off. She couldn’t find the words, or any words really to describe the hysteria that was going on in her head. Vampire’s are a myth, were a myth up until a few minutes ago.

She’d never thought much of the alley behind The Golden Fang but now she wished she had been smart enough to avoid it. Wherever she was now is proof that that place is not normal. Hazel was tempted to walk outside and see if she would find the same shops across from the club sign, or even walk back to the care center, but something told her that wouldn’t be the case. Hazel had a sinking feeling in her gut that a step out of that door would lead her into a different world.

“You really aren’t from here are you?”

“Where is here, exactly?” caution colored Hazel’s voice as she watched the baby and panther play. Aside from the whole shapeshifter thing, Hazel had never seen any wild animals this close. It was kind of fascinating.

“Metropolis.”

“Like the cartoon?” N’Jadaka couldn’t control his face when he heard the girl’s confused response. She truly didn’t know anything about his world.

“No, its––Haven’t you heard about President Gorya?” The current president was worse than a joke because he took himself seriously, but the rest of the world didn’t. That’s why T’Challa is running. If anyone could make a change, it would be T’Challa. That vamp is too benevolent for his own good.

“Who?”

“What about the Creatures Rights Act?” It was the biggest push from species rights activists at the time and the only bill to pass unanimously. Still, from the look on Hazel’s face, this didn’t ring a bell. The more questions N’Jadaka asked, the more concerned Hazel got. Either this guy was really convincing, or she really is in a different place entirely.

“The what?”

“Tiller Mayhem?” N’Jadaka mentioned the serial killer that had been running rampant, targeting all kinds of low country creatures up until he was caught last year.

“Nothing.”

“Beyoncé?” Shuri had returned from her wandering, slipping back into the conversation with ease.

“Duh! You guys have Beyoncé?” Hazel nearly shouted her response, happy to hear something that finally made sense.

“Yeah she’s the biggest pop vamp in the world.” N’Jadaka could name her last few singles and even knew a few of her songs, but Shuri was the real fan.

“Wait wait, Beyoncé’s a vampire?”

“And a succubus on her mom’s side. What is she in your world?”

“The biggest pop star. A mom. Amazing.”

“She has kids in your world?”

“Yep! A daughter and twins. Blue, Sir and Rumi.” N’Jadaka had heard enough from the girls, and steered the conversation back to answers.

“Back to the original question. Where the hell did you come from and how did you get here?”

“Um, I’m from Ortega,” The blank stares Hazel received from N’Jadaka and Shuri made her even more self conscious. “which apparently doesn’t exist here. As for how I got here…I was on my way home from work and I heard a baby crying.”

“And you just followed the sound?” Hazel could hear the skepticism in N’Jadaka’s voice. She bristled.

“Yes, I followed the sound. I’m not the kind of person to leave a baby in an alleyway.”

“So you find the baby and what?”

“I don’t know. It got a little windy and the next thing I know, you’re walking out for a smoke.”

“Next thing you know? Seriously short stack? That’s the best you’ve got?”

“That’s the truth.”

“Sounds like a load of––” Shuri stopped N’Jadaka before he could belittle the girl further. She didn’t know the human, but no one deserves to be on the end of N’Jadaka’s righteous inquisition.

“Well I’ve got a theory––” N’Jadaka rolled his eyes at his cousin’s statement. He knew all about Shuri’s theories, and as of late they’d become so ridiculous he was getting concerned about her health. Sure she might be the smartest person in the world, but she’s always been one step away from falling down the rabbit hole and onto the Mad Hatters cap. Shuri’s kimoyo beads rang before he could say anything.

Shuri stepped away to answer the call and N’Jadaka returned his attention to the human. She was small, hence the nickname but something about her was big. Currently she was rolling around with Terra and the baby shifter, giggling as they snuggled with her. N’Jadaka wanted to summon Terra back to him with a kiss of his teeth, but he studied the trio instead. In the ten years Terra had been with N’Jadaka she’d always been a good judge of character. She’d sniffed out plenty of shady club goers and warded him away from even shadier business deals. Now the cat was nipping at this girl from another world and purring louder than he’d ever heard.

“N’Jadaka, that was a call from my brother. Nakia’s back. He wants to––

“Have a family dinner.”

“Well we better get packing. What do we do with the…” He gestured to the human and shifter.

“They’re coming with us. Obviously.”

“So you want me to bring an unregistered human and a random shapeshifting kid to family dinner?” N’Jadaka stroked his chin for a second pondering the consequences.

“You know what, that might actually make things interesting. Let’s do it.” Shuri facepalmed before shoving N’Jadaka.

“You always want to make trouble.” N’Jadaka shrugged.

—l—

Earth Stream 245: October 4, 2040

4:15PM

The nearly Ivy League college was as crisp as the orange autumn leaves. Crestbay University was one of the top 5 schools in the country and home to the most advanced psychological in the world. Detective Stevens found himself there after two days of gathering information and hitting brick walls.

“Will do Mrs. Okoye.” The bright eyed student bounced on his toes as Okoye raised her brow.

“Professor Okoye.”

“Oh, right. S—sorry Professor.” Light in their eyes sufficiently dimmed by embarrassment, the student practically ran away, and Erik couldn’t resist teasing his old friend.

“Still scaring the freshmen Professor?”

“When it suits me.” The duo shared a laugh, and Okoye jumped right into questioning her old partner.

“What do you need Erik?”

“It’s about a case.”

“Stevens we aren’t partners anymore. You can’t come to me about this stuff, especially since I know hardly any of your work is above the board.”

“I know but, Okoye it’s…I can’t explain this one.”

“The great Erik Stevens can’t explain something? Color me shocked!” Okoye teased, but Erik stood his ground. In all the time they’d known each other, Erik had never met a smarter woman than Okoye. She was observant and a savant in nearly every subject, which made her such an annoyingly amazing partner when they were on the force. Usually he never bothered to enlist any other help for his cases, preferring to handle everything on his own, but this case has stumped him from the beginning.

Hazel Fay had no reason to run away. According to her coworkers and friends, she was happy as a clam. Sure she worked two jobs, but that was more for experience than out of necessity. She didn’t have any outstanding debts, no enemies or secret vices. She was—is a perfectly normal girl who somehow went missing without a trace.

“How much do you know about alternate dimensions?” Okoye fixed Erik with an incredulous look considering the nature of the question and its complete ridiculousness, but when she saw he was serious Okoye sighed and grabbed her bags.

“Lets get a drink.”

“Oakies?” Erik was referring to the southern bar chain known for their hospitality, sleek bartops and haunting musical acts. Okoye scoffed.

“What do we need to go to a bar chain for? I got whisky in my office.”

“Okay Professor.”

Erik ran over the case again in his mind on their scenic walk to her office.

Hazel goes to work all day at the school and then her night job at the care center. According to her coworkers, there is nothing out of the ordinary, no angry parents of crying kids. She leaves the care center at around 9PM, and begins her walk home to her apartment on Lafayette Street. She pauses right in front of the security camera posted outside of the Golden Fang Bar for exactly forty seconds. Her head is tilted, she is listening to something. Finally she moves, but instead of heading home, she ventures further into the alleyway. She crouched down to the ground, grabbed something and holds it to her chest. When she rises from her knees, she disappears.

“She just vanished. One moment she was there in the alley, and then she picks up some black bundle and poof!” Erik relayed all he had gathered about the case to Okoye in the beautiful brownstone home that had been converted into office spaces for the professors and their assistants. He threw his notes on her desk, giving her a chance to peruse them while he sank into the wood and leather chair that sat in front of her desk.

Okoye gestured to the bottle of whisky that sat in the corner of her desk, procuring a pair of glasses while she studied Erik’s notes. Erik poured a finger for each of them and leaned back. Okoye hadn’t changed her office much since he had last been here. The walls were still the same boring white—or eggshell as he was initially informed. A red and gold tapestry hung on one of the walls, glittering in the sunlight that streamed through the open window of the room. Her wide wooden desk was littered with rhino trinkets, pens, and golden bits and bobs.

“That is…strange. This whole case is…odd.”

“That’s an understatement. Look, Okoye I wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t run through every logical possibility. No one at the bar even saw the girl. They’ve got nothing.” Okoye nodded gathering her thoughts on the case. It was strange. The girls in Erik’s cases don’t just disappear without a trace like this. Sure they’re hard to find, but there are breadcrumbs to follow. This video leaves nothing.

“I’m a layman’s physicist in comparison to your connections. You should talk to an actual award-winning one.” Erik knew who she was hinting to, but he played dumb.

“You should talk to Nakia about this.” Erik didn’t shake his head at Okoye’s suggestion, but he didn’t nod either. The last person he wanted to think about was Nakia. Super-spy extraordinaire. Award-winning physicist. The first and only woman to break his heart. The reason he works as hard as he does now.

“She doesn’t want to talk to me.”

“Maybe, but she can help with this. She would want to, if it helps you find this girl.” Okoye knew this wasn’t the answer he was hoping to find with her, but she was never in the business of biting her tongue to please others. Erik needed help and she didn’t have nearly enough knowledge on the subject he was looking into to give him a useful answer.

“Yeah, maybe you’re right.” Erik slammed back the rest of his whisky, gathered his notes and waved Okoye goodbye.

“See you around Professor?” She smiled, all teeth and mirthful eyes.

“If you can find me Stevens.” Erik rolled his eyes at the jab and pulled out his phone, dialing the most recent number he found for Nakia before the whisky wore off.

—l—

Earth Stream 328: October 7, 2040

2:05PM

“It’s been a week and I still haven’t seen my daughter Harley.” A week. A full seven days of sleepless nights and endless searching for Ayana. Harley didn’t know what was real and what was a dream at this point, but she still kept searching. She conferred with every deity she could get in contact with, wrote every witch within a 100 mile radius, hell she even prayed. Still, Ayana never showed.

“You don’t think I’ve been looking?” Killmonger didn’t know what the witch had been doing since she’d thrown his baby into nowhere and he didn’t give one flying fuck. He’d gone too long without his daughter, too long without hearing her laugh or seeing her gummy smile. Hell he’d even take her teething cries over the silence that filled his house now. But the witch had no leads and he couldn’t find her scent. It was like she just, disappeared.

“It doesn’t seem like you’ve been doing much of anything.” Finally Harley snapped. After a week of his snide comments and shitty treatment, Harley whirled on the Tribal Leader with a snarl.

“Fuck you ‘Monger.” Killmonger twitched, arms reaching out to grab Harley’s neck before the door to the Golden Fang swung open.

“Well, well, well. What’s a guy have to do to get a drink in this shitty little town?” The white man wore a bright white cut adorned with fringe that didn’t deserve to see the light of day and obnoxious gold epithets on his shoulders. A patch of blood and bone was stitched in a jagged line on the back of his leather cut along with an embroidered name: The Poachers. The man wore his bloody cut and his deranged smile like an accessory. He didn’t make it to the bar before the Jags stood, blocking his path to the bar.

“Poacher’s ain’t welcome here.”

“Oh come on boys. I just want a little drink.” The man gave a small grin, revealing yellowed teeth and a few silver caps.

“No.”

“What’s up your ass? Your old lady ain’t doing her job?” The man waved to Harley, and she nearly lunged for the idiot. Killmonger is the last man she’d ever––

“Oh I know what it is! You lost your kid right? Left her with some witch? God, I’ve never met a shifter stupid enough to leave their kid with a witch, but there’s a first time for everything, right?” This time Harley did lunge. The Jags weren’t expecting anyone to break through from the back, and she got a solid punch in before W’Kabi, Erik’s right hand man, pulled her back behind the wall of Jags.

“Out.” Harley examined the blood under her nails, barely recalling the scratch she had gotten in before W’Kabi pulled her off of the Poacher. The man continued to speak, but Harley ripped herself from W’Kabi’s arms. Stomping out of the back door, pushing hard enough to hear it slam into the side of the bar as she made her way out to the dry dirt.

The Vibranium Babes had a bar just across the street, and Harley stomped her way to the bar. The bar was more of a club in the sense that it was always a little dark and had way too much chrome for a tiny town in the mountains, but Harley liked it. The music they played was a mix of bass electric and bubblegum pop that made her want to bob her head and grin at the same time. Ayana used to love walking by here on the way back to the Golden Fang. That thought was enough to sober Harley and she pushed her way to to back of the club where Shuri’s office sat.

The door glowed purple from the inside out but Harley couldn’t hear a sound. She knocked just below the sign that read: ‘Boss Babe’ and pressed her hand to the door as she waited. She tried to use the cool metal to calm herself and focus her energy. Right now, her powers were going haywire because every single thing she had built for herself in this town was going haywire. Even before she became Harley, Harley couldn’t remember a time where she felt so hopeless. Killmonger hated her even more, and Ayana wasn’t there to soften the blow. As she recalled his words, each one hurt a little more.

“Harley? Come in.” Shuri got one look at the girl and pulled her into her office. She guided them both to a plush purple couch sitting beside her and tossing Harley a pillow to hug. She latched onto it immediately.

“Shuri, I need to do a spell.”

“Harley spell working is too dangerous—” Harley knew spell working was dangerous. She knew every risk from growing addicted to perils of white magic to growing three extra arms and an antenna. None of that mattered. Or the risk was worth it all. Ayana had become everything to Harley, and the longer she was away, the tighter the noose squeezed around her heart.

“I don’t give a fuck Shuri. I have to do something. I have to find her!” Shuri inhaled and held Harley’s gaze. On a good day, Shuri wouldn’t never even begin to entertain the idea of spell working. Ritual magic and energy flow are the safest options for a witch like Harley, but those take time. Time that Shuri could tell they were running out of. Killmonger would lose what little patience he had, and even Shuri couldn’t guarantee Harley’s safety then. On the exhale, she relented.

“We need to go see Oma.”

—l—

Earth Stream 947: October 8, 2040

5:09AM

“I’m just saying her presence proves my theory that multidimensional travel is possible!”

“Shuri, I love you, I do, but her presence proves nothing. What if she just has amnesia or something?”

“How many humans have you seen walking around unchipped and unregistered? And when’s the last time you ran into a jaguar shifter? You know I’m right N’Jadaka.”

“I know a lot of things, but that ain’t it.”

Hazel Fay was amazed to learn not only that vampires existed in whatever world she stumbled into but that they can walk in the sunlight without problem. Though most of them tended to be nocturnal, apparently they travelled in the daytime. Hazel and the baby, which she had taken to calling ‘Bug’ where ushered into a sleek black car by N’Jadaka and Shuri. Upon entering, the car released a mist of something Hazel couldn’t quite place, and then N’Jadaka and Shuri were back with suitcases packed, Terra climbing into the backseat with Hazel and Bug as they set off to…wherever they were going.

N’Jadaka and Shuri have been bickering ever since from the front seat. In an instant it dawned on Hazel that she should have never gotten into the car. Hell she probably shouldn’t have said anything to these vampires at all. Hazel whipped her phone out of her pocket, frantically pressing the home button, but nothing appeared. Either it was dead, or it didn’t work in whatever world she was in right now. Hazel only had a moment to panic before her mouth whizzed past her brain.

“Where the hell are you taking us?”

“T’Challa’s house.” N’Jadaka sighed in annoyance, though he was happy to get some entertainment from the human. He was beginning to wonder if she had fallen mute.

“Which is where?” Hazel did her best to remain polite, she really did, but vampire or not this guy is an asshole.

“Considering you don’t even know where Metropolis is, I doubt you’re going to know where to find Wakanda.”

“Then show me. I’m sure it’s not that difficult.” Hazel was one snarky word away from flicking the back of N’Jadaka’s ear no matter the consequences.

“She has a point cousin.” In an instant, the entire front seat turned to face Hazel, the baby, and Terra. N’Jadaka looked sufficiently annoyed and Hazel was beginning to wonder if that was just his face. Shuri on the other hand had her left wrist outstretched, a bracelet of thick black beads emitting a soft blue light.

“This is our travel plan.” An image of a map projected from Shuri’s bracelet this time, bright, blue and bold. Hazel could see a continent that looked to be like Africa, but the States, or what was the States in her world, was all messed up. The east coast ended where Virginia might have been, Florida was completely gone, and the midwest had become and island somehow.

“We started in Metropolis, obviously. And we’re headed to Wakanda the second largest vamp city in the world. It’s in Cafria, just about 5,000 miles east.” Shuri pointed out Metropolis, which looked to be where New York city would have been in Hazel’s world. then she pointed out Africa, or ‘Cafria’ as it was called here, as their destination.

“How long will it take?”

“A couple of days give or take. As long as the weather holds we should be fine.” Shuri waved off the weather like it was nothing and pulled out a piece of small circular technology. She leaned forward towards Hazel and held it up to the window. Hazel’s eyes widened at the invasion of personal space, but she couldn’t stop herself from looking at Shuri’s eyes. they were yellow and orange, like flecks of fire dancing from a flame. Chagrinned, Shuri directed her attention to Hazel.

“Do you mind if I plug this in? I want to charge my kimoyo beads before the flight.” Hazel shrugged and watched the girl place the tech onto the window. It only took a second to pulse blue and then it began to hum. The sound was nearly silent, but Hazel watched in awe as Shuri pulled off her bracelet and held it to the tech. The bracelet latched on like a magnet and Shuri leaned back, pulling down the shade by her face. Self driving cars and solar power. To Hazel this was more futuristic than she expected for another world.

“Solar charger. It’s my newest prototype. Adding the magnet is always tricky with everything else going on in there, but I think it’ll hold.” Shuri explained when she saw the look on Hazel’s face and again wondered where in the universe this girl came from. She very clearly wasn’t a part of their world, despite what N’Jadaka might think. This girl wasn’t meant to be a part of their world and it’s only a matter of time before fate pulls her back to wherever she truly needs to be. Shuri wanted to be the one to see her back to her world and maybe even get a glimpse of it in the process.

Hazel nodded gratefully at the explanation and watched Shuri lean back in her seat again. She watched as the girl closed her eyes, and watched even closer as her breathing evened out. As far as she knew vampires don’t just sleep in the open, so Hazel had to wonder what the hell she was doing.

“You staring at my cousin pretty hard. You into her or something?” Hazel whipped a side-eye at N’Jadaka. Sure the girl was cute and they looked to be around the same age, but as of right now, she was in another world. The last thing she’s focused on are prospective partners.

“No. It’s just…In my world, Vampires only sleep in coffins. Or upside down. And they can’t go out in the sunlight either.”

“The vampires in your world sound like pussies.”

“Yeah well it’s not like they’re real anyways. At least not in my world.”

“You’re serious about that? No vampires in your world?”

“No magical creatures at all. Why?”

“I don’t know, I just can’t imagine a world without us, and creatures like us. I mean sure I could do without the Stokers, but compared to the fae, they aren’t so bad.” Hazel’s brain spun at the mention of fae and a world with magical creatures before her mind caught on a question.

“Stokers?”

“Yeah the European vampire assholes that love to try and gentrify anything they deem ‘in desperate need of repair’. Those are the ones that can barely tolerate the sunlight, though they still bring their undead asses out on occasion.”

“Wait, there are different types of vampires?”

“Not genealogically, for the most part we’re the same, these are just our…cultural differences.” Hazel raised her brows in an effort to get him to elaborate and after a moment of annoyance that he had to explain anything at all, N’Jadaka relented.

“Okay so, you’ve got the Stokers––”

“European assholes.” Hazel covered the baby’s ears as she said the last word, even though Bug was fast asleep. N’Jadaka almost smiled.

“Right. Then the succoyants. They came from the islands and pretty much dominate the south nowadays. And lastly you’ve got The Adize. My people. We came from Wakanda, and all over Cafria.” Hazel heard the pride in N’Jadaka’s voice.

“So what makes you special?”

“Well, in our legends, we turn into fireflies. We dance along the plains, flying free until we need to feed. Then we can fall into whatever form suits us best and…eat.” N’Jadaka leaned closer to Hazel as he told the story, laughing a little when she jumped at his final words. She was easy to scare. He tried to get a whiff of her scent, but remembered the scent blockers they’d doused her and the baby with. She’d have to remain a mystery.

They pulled up to the tarmac smoothly, Shuri jolting out of sleep the second the car stopped. Hazel peered out the window taking in the small, sleek black jet. It was the only plane on the blacktop and for the first time Hazel wondered just who she was traveling with. Peeking down at baby Bug, she was happy to see the kid was still fast asleep. Terra was too, and she didn’t envy N’Jadaka having to wake her up to get her on the plane.

“This is us.”

“Are you guys rich or something?” Shuri laughed and turned to N’Jadaka, gracefully twirling out of the car and towards the jet.

“You want to handle that one cousin?”

“We’re comfortable.” N’Jadaka shrugged under her scrutiny, then shook himself and sat taller. No human is going to make him feel any type of way about his money. Hazel couldn’t stop digging.

“How comfortable?”

“Let’s just say, Wakanda treats us like kings.”

“So you’re what? Vampire royalty?” Hazel watched N’Jadaka shrug his answer with rapt attention. He was being way too casual about this for it to mean nothing.

“Of a sort. My father was a prince. We tend to live in an…elevated economic status than some of the other vamps.” Hazel couldn’t resist rolling her eyes. Not that N’Jadaka noticed, he was busy checking the flight plan on his kimoyo beads.

“Now I know you’re royalty.”

“Why?”

“Because when you talk about certain ‘economic circumstances’ you sound like a media trained asshat.” Hazel’s hands went right over Bug’s ears again.

“Charming.” N’Jadaka stopped Hazel’s questioning with a sneer. He’d be damned, well even more damned than he already is, before they messed up their flight plan. He hefted Terra over his shoulder and nodded to the attendants. They grabbed the luggage and hurried to the plane as Hazel scrambled out of the car, baby in her arms.

“Please tell me you know what a plane is.” Hazel rolled her eyes at N’Jadaka’s condescension.

“Oh fuck off.” Of course, that’s when Bug decided to wake up.

—l—

Earth Stream 245: October 8, 2040

9:22AM

“Kia.”

Erik was surprised that the phone only rang once after he finally mustered up the courage to call. Nakia’s voice hit him like a hurricane, strong and quick and biting. It took him four days to make this call, and he wasn’t proud of it. Erik had never been anything but bitterly independent, but when Okoye couldn’t help him and he spent another few hours beating his head against the wall and watching a tape that made no logical sense, he gave in and called.

“I told you to stop calling me that E.” Her words wore annoyed but Erik could hear the smile creeping through her voice. He grinned into his own response.

“And I told you to stop calling me that.” The line was silent after that, and Erik remembered why they had stopped talking. They had never been a great match, but convenience makes fools of us all. Not to mention their family history.

“Why are you calling me Erik? I thought––” He didn’t have the hear the rest of the sentence to know how it was going to end. I thought I made everything clear the day you lowered my father into the ground. Erik knew he shouldn’t have called. Hell, he hated that he needed her help, but Jules Fay had called everyday since she first came to his office, and Erik was sick of filling her with non-answers and disappointment.

“I need your help. It’s about a girl.”

“Seriously?” Erik cringed at her tone, sharpened to a point he couldn’t stand.

“A missing girl. I think she’s in another dimension.” Nakia didn’t laugh or call him crazy, but he didn’t expect her to. She’s not that kind of person. She’s too smart to pass judgement without analyzing all of the factors.

“Why do you think that?”

“She’s just disappeared without a trace Nakia. She’s not like you, she couldn’t have done this. She’s got no priors, no secret lovers, no enemies. She volunteers on the weekends and works with kids night and day.”

“She sounds like a saint.” Nakia was intrigued. She’d worked plenty of missions that involved finding people that couldn’t be found, but in her research, she’d never come across something like this without a clear explanation. She could understand why Erik was stumped.

“Exactly. There is no reason she would have been targeted. No reason for her to be taken.”

“People are crazy.” Nakia offered this up delicately, knowing the answer wasn’t in her words but giving them anyway to fill the silence.

“There was no one in or around that alley Nakia. She’s just…gone.” Nakia hesitated. Erik sounded weary. Erik Stevens was never anything but resolute and elegant, but now, he was weary.

“Send me the tape.” Erik’s breath crackled over the line.

“Thank you.”

“I’m not promising anything.”

“I know.” Erik went to pull the phone from his face, but Nakia stopped him.

“And Erik? If this is an impossible case, you need to stay open to all possibilities.”

—l—

Earth Stream 947: October 10, 2040

3:27PM

Cafria is hot. Hotter than any place Hazel has ever experienced. It’s a crisp, dry heat that made her want to moisturize every five minutes. Her fingers swelled the second she stepped off of the plane and her phone burned a hole in her pocket. N’Jadaka and Shuri didn’t seem to share her sentiments. They waltzed off of the private jet with grins to rival a crocodile’s and they stretched like cats in the sun. Their eyes looked more gold than brown in this place, and the pair thrummed with a new kind of energy. Something magical, like they could become anything at any second, and no person or thing would be able to stop them.

After boarding yet another private plane to Wakanda, the quintet landed quickly and made their way into a private limo. Or what Hazel assumed was a limo in this place. It was just as sleek and black as anything in Metropolis, and Hazel pressed her nose against the window to watch the world fly by. Luxurious lakes reflected the pristine blue sky, and that soon gave way to rolling verdant hills with elegant horses galloping through them. By the time they reached the gate, Hazel had to sit back in her seat. Dazed and glutted by the beauty of this place called Wakanda.

At the gate, Shuri mumbled a few words in a language Hazel couldn’t understand and the wrought vibranium gates slid open. N’Jadaka studied this human take in the opulence of the estate. The car glided to a stop and the group made their way out of the car quickly. Hazel, clutched Bug in one arm and the other was free to feel the Wakandan air. Palm fronds of every shape and size enveloped the entryway and N’Jadaka watched as the girl reach out and touch them. She rubbed them between her fingers like she’d never seen a tree before, and once again he had to wonder just where she came from.

T’Challa and Nakia, the Scientist and the Spy stood together, looking just as picturesque as their palatial home. Smiles were plastered on their beautiful black faces, and they almost looked normal, human. All it took was another glance for Hazel to reconsider that thought. Golden eyes glittered like jewels in flawless faces and Hazel slowed her approach, falling behind N’Jadaka and Shuri.

“Sister,” The tall man pulled Shuri into a hug while the woman watched on. Then he turned his attention onto N’Jadaka. “Cousin.”

“Wassup?” N’Jadaka nodded and went for a handshake, finally revealing Hazel, who stood with Bug in her arms while Terra purred at her feet, tail flickering around her ankles. The lean man pulled his face into a judgmental visage of furrowed brows and downturned lips. Hazel didn’t bother waving, instead taking in the grandiose foyer. Dark wood melted into gleaming tile and mirrors reflected the setting sun through the tall french windows.

“This is not a BYOH cousin. We have plenty of blood for––” Shuri shoved T’Challa on the shoulder and though his face conveyed brotherly annoyance, he stood rooted to the spot.

“She is not a blood bag brother. She is proof!”

“Proof?” Hazel never thought someone could raise their eyebrow wearily, but here she was, seeing it happen. Maybe it’s a vampire thing.

“Yes, they are proof that multidimensional travel is possible.” N’Jadaka face palmed while T’Challa sighed. He should have known by now to remain unsurprised by Shuri’s…hypotheses, but he still hasn’t mastered complete control of his reactions. Still, this is better than when Shuri designed that––T’Challa stopped himself before he walked too far down memory lane.

“Why don’t you all come inside and we can talk over breakfast?” Nakia finally spoke, voice even and only slightly commanding. As though her word was law, T’Challa nodded and followed her into the house. The trio followed suit, Hazel gripping Bug a touch tighter than necessary.

The hallways were painted blue laced in gold trimmings and peppered with greenery. Hazel couldn’t imagine living in a place this pristine. Paintings hung from the walls and silvery glimmering busts stood in the corners. It was like walking through a museum. After what felt like a mile long walk to Hazel, the group made it to the dining room. Terra darted to a silvery bowl filled to the bring with wet food and the rest of them took their seats.

Hazel sat Bug up in her lap, waving away the highchair Nakia offered. She felt safer with the baby in her arms. Even if said baby could turn into a jaguar. The table was laden with all manner of breakfast foods. Sausage and bacon and eggs and pancakes steamed from their places on the table, but Hazel caught sight of something else. Pastries were piled high on three trays to the right of her. Perfectly laminated croissants, fluffy muffins, and glossy danishes filled to the brim with bright fruits beckoned her to take a bite, but N’Jadaka stopped her before she could reach for one.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” N’Jadaka had been watching the girl through all of this, and he had to admit he was impressed. Most humans would have run away screaming if the T’Challa Udaku had referred to them as a blood bag, but this girl…Hazel, didn’t seem to know what the hell we were talking about at all. It wasn’t necessarily refreshing, but it was interesting.

“Why not? I’m starving” Hazel nearly bit N’Jadaka’s hand off of her shoulder. She hadn’t eaten since…There had been snacks on the plane, but she’s hadn’t had a real meal since she was back home. Before she came to this world, she had plans to make soups all weekend and freeze them for the months to come. Now Hazel wondered if she’s ever get home again.

“Some of the ingredients might not sit well with you.” N’Jadaka had seen human get sick from eating their food, and he didn’t need to see it again.

“Which ingredients?”

“The blood mostly.” Hazel balked and N’Jadaka barked out a laugh. Now that he mentioned it, Hazel could see the pastries had a slightly pink tinge to them. She pulled her hands back into her lap and let Bug play with them for a bit while she tried to reason with her grumbling stomach.

As if she could read her mind, or hear her stomach, Nakia placed a plate in from of Hazel. It was piled high with fruits and bagels without a bloody tint to them. Hazel gazed up to find herself captured by golden irises as she thanked the woman. Nakia nodded with a small smile, happy that N’Jadaka brought a human with manners this time.

“So, who exactly are you?” Nakia said this after she was seated next to T’Challa. Her tone was kind but her brow was raised high enough to make Hazel want to curl in on herself.

“My name is Hazel Fay. I’m from a town named Ortega, which apparently doesn’t exist here.” Of all the things Hazel couldn’t wrap her head around in the this place, the fact that she was no longer home was the hardest. In fact, home doesn’t exist, or never did exist in this place. According to Shuri and N’Jadaka.

“N’Jadaka found her in the alley of the Golden Fang. With a baby shifter. On a full moon.” Shuri’s emphasis on her last few words made Hazel wonder just how much she was missing, but everyone else at the table looked just was clueless as she felt. Bug wiggled in her arms, reaching for the plate in front of her. Hazel pulled the muffin into bits and handed them to Bug, happy to see the baby eating without problem. The last thing Hazel wants to worry about was a baby who wouldn’t eat.

“And you just appeared here?”

“Yes Nakia! Her presence here is a matter of the divine. Bast herself brought her to us, for some…reason.” Shuri said all this with excitement, but N’Jadaka couldn’t resist a snort. He loved his cousin, but sometimes she let her scientific ideals blind her to reality. This human still hasn’t proven much of anything yet.

“We still don’t have proof that she isn’t from our…world.”

“And that’s where you come in, Brother.” SHuri turned to T’Challa with a grin.

“What is the perfect candidate going to do to prove your theory Shuri?” N’Jadaka’s voice was teasing and Shuri rolled her eyes. T’Challa and Nakia watched on in silence, apparently used to this kind of thing.

“Aside from being the perfect presidential candidate, my brother is a scientist too.” After relaying this information to Hazel, Shuri turned to N’Jadaka with a childish sneer.

“T’Challa is going to scan her and ensure she isn’t in the system. She won’t be, but until N’Jadaka gets his head out of his A-S-S and learns to trust me, we’ll have to waste time.” The man in question rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair. Hazel was grateful that Shuri spelled out the curse word and couldn’t help but giggle a bit at their interaction. T’Challa on the other hand took charge. He turned Hazel to face him and raised his arm.

“I suppose a retina scan cannot hurt.” T’Challa pressed a finger to his kimoyo beads and a thin blue bar moved over Hazel’s eyes before she could blink.

“Brother just scanned your eyes and is running them through the system. Every creature in or world is registered from the moment of their creation, though only certain beings have access to certain databanks. As a high ranking vampire official, T’Challa has access to everything.” Shuri finished her spiel with a prideful wave, but Hazel could only nod slowly. Just as she thought she was getting the hang of this world, something new popped up. There was a quiet rumbling sound, like the bead was calculating before it released a long beep.

“No Record…”

“Ha! No record, which means she is not from our world because every human in our world is registered. It is impossible not to be.” N’Jadaka huffed when Shuri turned to him with her hands on her hip and a smirk to rival his own.

“Fine Shuri, you were right.”

“If she isn’t from this world, how did she get here in the first place?” Nakia asked this quietly leaning back in her chair as she observed the scene. T’Challa and Nakia had always encouraged Shuri’s natural curiosity, but she couldn’t help but wonder if this was the hypothesis that would get her in trouble that they couldn’t get her out of. She prayed to Bast that that day would never come, but looking at this unregistered human had her heightened senses on alert.

“And how do I get back?”

—l—

Earth Stream 328: October 11, 2040

5:12PM

Four days. Harley has been hiking for four days. Four days in the Calawuga heat, marching on the hardened soil in barely broken in boots. All to see the mystical Oma. Whoever the fuck that is. To be fair, Harley had a vague inclination of who Oma is; a mountain witch with ties to the Great Gorilla tribe. That’s as much as she knew off hand, and after four days of hiking with Shuri, her curiosity won out over her pride.

“So, why exactly are we going to see Oma?”

“She’s the Queen of the Great Gorilla Tribe.” Shuri said this like it was common knowledge, which in part is was. The Great Gorilla’s kept to themselves for the most part, but the town knew their hierarchy. M’Baku was king and his Queen, Oma was the most powerful witch in the town. The only reason Harley hadn’t gone to Oma in the first place is because of the falling out Killmonger had with M’Baku when he decided to marry Oma. The man hates witches so much, he let it ruin his best friendship.

“And?”

“Seriously? You don’t know?”

“If I did, I wouldn’t be asking.” Harley’s annoyance seeped into every word but Shuri shook her head.

“Aside form being a crazy powerful witch, she’s one of the only witches who’s messed with spell work and white magic. Well, one of the only ones who’s lived to tell the tale.” Harley was impressed to say the least. She’d never even bothered with withe magic, the idea of it was more than enough to put her off. White magic or spirit magic in some circles, is more than dangerous. It’s a brush with death. Speaking to the dead is almost always more trouble than it’s worth and Harley never needed the power that came with that kind of magic. That is, until now.

“I can’t believe Monger didn’t tell you.”

“It’s not like he’s my biggest fan Shuri.” Shuri snorted, but in a way that challenged Harley’s statement.

“Shuri, the man hates me.”

“He really doesn’t. He’s just––” They heard the vocalizations before Shuri could get another word out. In a minute, they were surrounded.

Queen Oma of the Great Gorilla Tribe lives deep in the Calawat mountain range. A four day hike will get you to the boarders of her land, but it will take another six hours by foot. Maybe seven if you’re surrounded by an elite force of Calawugan warriors. When the pair were initially surrounded, Harley began sizing up her opponents. They were big, and fierce, but Harley thought with the right amount focus, she could take them. Shuri stopped her before it could come to that, speaking to the warriors in their native tongue, promising them that the duo meant no harm and only requested an audience with the Queen.

They were brought to the palace, a wooden masterpiece that sat on the second highest peak in the mountain. The highest peak was reserved for Hanuman of course, their Gorilla headed god. The halls of the palace were light and open, far from the fortresses of the tribal bars back in town, and Harley marveled at how deeply she could breath the mountain air. It had been a while since she had taken a breath not filled with the scent of smoke and booze.

Their audience with the queen was granted after a moment of waiting and they followed their craven of warriors into an octagonal room. In each wall rested a window and above, the ceiling fell away to nothing in the middle. It was reminiscent of a roman atrium pillars, wooden instead of stone, and the ground paved smooth.

“Queen Oma, we thank you for meeting with us.” The King was nowhere to be found but taking in the woman Shuri called queen, she didn’t find that strange at all.

Queen Oma stood tall on a rug woven with fresh palm leaves and a crown resting on her head. Small skulls the size of Harley’s palm dangled from the regent’s ears and she granted Shuri a closed lipped smile.

“Shuri, I trust this is important. It is nearing the end of hunting season you know.”

“It is Queen Oma.” Harley was surprised to hear that Shuri never dropped the title of Queen with Oma. Shuri would grant anyone else a ridiculous nickname, but with the Queen, it was only respect.

“My friend and I,” Shuri waved to Harley, and Harley curtsied for lack of better ideas on how best to show respect. “we need your advice spell working.” In an instant, Queen Oma turned her gaze to Harley.

“You want to do spell work? Why?” Bright brown eyes captivated Harley, causing her to scramble for words while Shuri nudged her arm.

“My…” Harley reached for the words to best describe what Ayana was to her, and then decided to avoid that rabbit hole completely.

“I need to find someone. She’s disappeared.”

“And you think spell working will help you? Why?”

“I––I don’t know what else to try.”

“Scrying.” Harley knew what scrying was, a certain type of meditation witches could use to see the future. Harley also knew that she couldn’t do it.

“My energy isn’t particularly inclined towards premonition.”

“It’s a good thing that scrying isn’t solely for premonition then isn’t it?” With a nod, Oma had the room cleared. Only Shuri, Harley and Oma stood in that large rotunda.

The night sky loomed overhead, stars winking into existence here and there. Scraping sounded from the right and before Harley could fall into a defensive position at the sudden sound, Oma stopped her with a hand. Oma strolled to the side of the room, scooping up a large bowl that had been slid into the room from outside and brought it to the center of the room. She placed it on the dais that sat there under the dark sky and gestured for me to look into it.

“I really don’t know how to do this.”

“I will guide you. Now look.”

With a deep breath, Harley turned her gaze downwards, into the bowl. There was a dark liquid in the bowl, still settling from movement. It was so dark Harley could see the whites of her eyes reflected in it, her brown skin finding highlights in the shimmering fluid.

“Concentrate on who you want to see. Not how she was or how she might be, but how she is, in this very moment.”

Harley concentrated. She bit her lip and squinted her eyes. She held her breath and scratched her neck. All of this, and she saw nothing.

“It’s not working.”

“That is because you do not believe it will work. You do not believe your energy will let you see anything outside of your realm of knowledge. You must expand your mind, your energy. Use everything you have to reach out, to see her, to find her.”

Harley forced herself to take Oma’s words seriously. Sure she’s never done this before, but until now, no witch had ever told Harley that she didn’t have the power to do something magical. That she didn’t believe in her energy. Harley knew how powerful she was. Powerful enough to frighten all of her neighbors and classmates with a single glance. Powerful enough to bring down the electricity for her entire city, and bring it back up again. Harley knew power, knew energy, she just wasn’t sure how to wield it.

So she buckled down. She closed her eyes for a breath, and on the exhale opened them slowly. As she raise her eyelids, she could see flecks of energy that flickered around the room. Aura’s could be tricky to see, but on nights like these, dark and clear, she couldn’t help but see them. Shuri’s blazed bright purple, and Oma’s was and emerald green, but Harley was searching for her own. Blue like the inner flame of a fire. She caught a glimpse of it, sitting right beside the bowl. Concentrate on expanding your energy.

For a moment, Harley wasn’t quite sure what to do. She’d found her energy, but controlling it was another thing entirely. Before she could spiral into any sort of despair, she asked her energy to move. To stretch and seek out Ayana, to find her fuschia energy wherever it might be. Harley watched as her energy pulsed brightly, then began to move, flitting around like a firefly. Then, just as she thought she might be going crazy, an image flickered in the bowl.

It was a girl. A girl who looked like Harley before she shaved the sides of her head and got more piercings than she could count. They had the same hickory skin, the same brown eyes, and the same wide nose. For a moment Harley thought the girl was her, that she had messed up and summoned an image of the past, but then she saw Ayana. The baby girl, her baby girl was cuddled up in her Golden Jag cut, snuffling into the neck of the girl who looked so much like Harley. Then another woman, draped in black walked into the frame of the bowl. Her eyes echoed Harley’s own, and Harley couldn’t keep herself from jumping in surprise.

Her movement was enough to shake the bowl and knock her out of focus, but when she looked up, Harley relief curved her lips into a smile.

“She’s alive.”

A/N: Soooooooo we’re getting a little more information here, but nothing definitive. Yet.

So apparently Okoye is a surname? Am I the only who didn’t know that? I tried to find a “first name/christian name” for Okoye on the Wiki and in the comics, but there was nothing… So, Professor Okoye it is!

N’Jadaka is a bougie vampire lol. I would expect nothing less tho tbh. Also vampire subcultures! That was fun to write! Adize actually means “magic” in the Ghanian language of ewe :)

Hazel still doesn’t really know where the hell she is, and Harley has finally seen Ayana! Now she just has to tell ‘Monger and get that baby back in the right dimension. Should be easy enough, right?

Fun Fact: You can actually bake with blood. In some recipes it takes the place of egg whites/leavening agents, though it takes like three times as long to whip up in comparison to egg whites. Learned about that in this podcast! (Do not listen to this if you are squeamish!!!!!)

As always let me know what y’all think!

The Mystery of the Golden Fang Mood Board

A Map Made in Heaven

Masterlist

Taglist: @princessstevens @muse-of-mbaku @k-michaelis @queenamaniii @thatrandomfangirl98@dreadedphilosphy @killmongurl @thelovelyliterary @elaindeereads @thedom223@bidibidibombaclaat@thatrandomfangirl98 @panthergoddessbast @nemesispawn@writingmarvellousimagines @someareblindtoitsbeauty @jozigrrl @iamrheaspeaks @purple-apricots @thadelightfulone @janelledarling

#The Mystery of the Golden Fang #bpfic #black panther #black panther fic #erik killmonger fic #erik killmonger x black!OC #erik killmonger #multiple reality AU

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jotatetsuken · 2 years

Text

NBNC Chapter 1: I Hate to Admit it, But...

Pairing: Kento Nanami x Fem! Reader Genre: Private Investigator AU, Angst, Fluff between Nanami and Reader Warnings: Mentions of blood, murder, death, usage of weapons, fighting, crying, slight manga spoiler in the last chapter (just to add context! Dw since this is an AU, I won’t be involving the canonical storyline too much) Taglist: Please fill this if you want to be a part of the tag list for this story :) Word Count: 2337

A/N: I'll try to update once a week or once in two weeks because I'll strive to be regular. Also, it may be unedited, so please let me know if there are any spelling or grammatical errors of that sort. In addition, the storyline is mine, but the Jujutsu Kaisen characters belong to Gege Akutami. :D I appreciate interaction with this post of any kind in the form of reblogs, likes, and comments. Finally, I'd also appreciate NO reposts in any other format or website whatsoever, as this will be crossposted on Wattpad as well. Thanks in advance :)

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We light up the bars of the world With the decadent essence of innocence Free but sharp We can be the satellite guiding through the dark, oh

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For the salaryman turned detective turned private investigator, work may have seemed to be taxing, but he loved what he did. Sure, Kento Nanami didn't like the number of lives lost to get to know whether the concerned subject, was guilty. But, in the end, he had to let go and not let his heart get in the way of how he went about things. One day, as he flipped through the files and ran his fingers through his hair, for a moment his mind was jolted by the sound of the roaring thunder outside his medium-sized louvered windows. Just for a moment, with his face resting on the same hand that ran his fingers through his hair, he peered outside. He was a simple man who cared about the simplest pleasures in life, and that was reflected in his setup. Earthern interiors, a couple of plants, stacks of shelves full of files, stationery, and only the detective license would be visible when you entered his firm.

One thing that didn't change about Nanami, however, was that whenever he'd be fighting, he'd get treated, but would wear the stained shirts the same night, so as to remind himself what happened whenever he was making notes. He clicked his tongue upon realizing that he had again forgotten to change his pristine cobalt blue shirt that had some spots of blood on it. Lightly patting his head for his minor sin of omission, he softly smiled at the beautiful weather even though he was a little irritated by the fact that the rain would delay his journey back home when he heard someone knock on his door and call out to him.

“Nanami-kun, would you like some tea?” Ijichi asks as he enters Kento’s office. Startled by the sound of the door opening, Kento turns to Kiyotaka Ijichi, the assistant manager, and smiles softly at him. “Hello, Ijichi-kun,” he says as he continues to read some of the files that were a part of the huge stack on his desk. “Maybe later? I'd rather have a cup of coffee right now. It’s going to be a long night full of documenting these cases,” he slams the file that he was holding onto the desk and puts his hand on his forehead.

He was exasperated, done for the day. In the fall-winter seasons, as the number of Cursed Spirits and Curse Users increased, his work would pile up. Life as a private investigator seemed like a much-needed change for Kento Nanami, but he wasn’t sure how he’d be able to manage all the paperwork alone. Even if Ijichi and he worked together to solve all the pending cases, it was difficult for him to get this done. When he was stressed, he had this habit of fidgeting with his collar so as to get himself to concentrate and breathe a little. As a blessing in disguise, he stopped doing so when Ijichi's phone rang, but to his dismay, it was someone’s voice he desperately did not want to hear. "Nanami-kun, you have to talk to him," Ijichi says, putting the phone on speaker.

“What is it now, Gojo-san?” Nanami sighs. A cheerful response from the other side of the phone cried out, “How’s my favorite kouhai doing, Nanamin?” To Satoru Gojou, the head of the Tokyo Jujutsu Detective Agency, the nickname Nanamin seemed like a word of endearment towards his dearest junior. To Kento Nanami, however, it was a painful reminder of his past.

While he enjoyed working under Gojo for 3 years, the last case he worked with him led him to a personal loss at the hands of a cursed spirit. This, and the way the TJDA handled the case, caused Kento to be so full of rage but decided to hold it all in and instead resigned from the agency to start his own PI firm. This led to Ijichi resigning as well because he wanted to support and look in on Nanami.

It’d been four years since and his firm's clearance rate stood up to 60%, twice more than that of the TJDA! Two years in, he'd later agreed to take in the said agency as a major client without being directly involved in the agency. It benefitted him greatly: Whatever the assigned members of the TJDA couldn't solve, either Gojo could solve them or Nanami could. Nanami had a simple motto in life: to adhere to facts and judge on that basis. When he did have to delve deeper into the case, he'd keep a notes section on his laptop (or phone) to note down the points that the concerned client presented to him, so that he'd not forget what he was trying to solve. Keeping his past at bay was something he knew best.

However, receiving a call from THE Satoru Gojo, was something he'd not expected. Gojo was known in the crime-solving community to be the smartest and the strongest detective all over Japan, even better than Nanami. So, to receive a call from HIM was all the more surprising. “Gojo-san,” Nanami replied, “firstly, please don't call me by that nickname. It still hurts, after what happened.” Shaking his head in annoyance, he continues, “secondly, it's weird that you call me after my office hours. Usually…” “Usually I call you during office hours and I trouble you to come to have lunch with me or something like that,” Gojo replies with his usual chirpy voice.

“Yes, something like that,” Nanami answers. “So, is there a case that's been troubling you lately?” A small smirk then appears on his face, where he says, “you're finally admitting that you can't solve everything, aren't you?” A sound of clicking tongues appears on the other side of the phone as Gojo cries, “Nanamin! Don't tease me like that! You know me, I'm the strongest detective there is!” A pregnant pause loomed across the conversation, broken by their chuckles, with Gojo continuing, “however, yes. There's been a case that was assigned to the TJDA which I can't solve either.” “Huh?” Kento raised an eyebrow at such a seemingly vacuous response. “That's interesting. I don't believe you. Nothing's been too difficult for you to solve. How is this any different?” Gojo first sounded solemn, “Nanamin! As you senpai, you must understand that there will be some cases that will always be out of my scope of solving,” then continued to whine, “would you be able to look into it, pleaseeee?” Rolling his eyes, Nanami reluctantly says, “Alright, FINE! Please send it to me, I'll look into it. Now hang up before I change my mind.” Gojo's grin was audible when he returned to his chirpy voice. “Thank you, Nanamin! Will send the details to See you soon. Byeeeeeeeeeeeee.”

When Kento reached his office, he noticed Ijichi being there already. Just what was this case all about? “Ijichi-kun, this case better be good! Please tell me the details.” As Ijichi bowed to him, he grabbed a file from the rust-colored couch he was sitting on, fiddling with it for some time. He then replies, “Nanami-kun, the victim is Junpei Yoshino, aged 18, a freshman student in kinesiology in UTokyo.”

Kento was taken aback a little bit. He mumbled “Junpei Yoshino,” as if the name felt familiar like something he remembered. He then goes to his files cabinet and rummages through ones that were arranged alphabetically. He was grateful that he’d gotten the files organized so that it’ll be easier for him. When he found the concerned file, he looked at it like a boy had just found his treasure trove of gold. Going through the file, that’s when it clicked. “Ijichi-kun, remember the murder of three people that happened at the cinema? Junpei was the subject to be investigated.” Ijichi nodded at him, “Yes, Nanami-kun. The bodies had been transmogrified and this modus operandi clearly suggested that this was done either by a Curse User or a Special Grade Cursed Spirit. I remember that he was the accused in this matter. Didn’t you and Itadori-kun work on this case?”

Kento nods, “yes I did. It was to get Itadori out of probation. Poor him, though. Yaga-san was hard on this guy just because of inexplicable connection with Sukuna. Anyway,” he goes to Ijichi and goes through the file in his hand, “It is said that the cause of death was reported as asphyxiation, however, that was done post-mortem. So that means..."

“That he was killed by something else?” Ijichi answered, “Probably a Curse User or a Cursed Spirit?” Kento nods, replying, "Yes. I believe so. I still do not understand, however, why can't the TJDA solve it? Moreover, why did Gojo-san have to call me?"

“Firstly,” Ijichi continues while pacing around back and forth, “this ties to the other case of people jumping off Yasohachi Bridge as well. While police say that it’s a case of self-harm, rumors say that they were being pushed off the bridge, implying that was an external source involved. Yasohachi Bridge is pretty desolate, so few people travel on it. Secondly,” he trails off as he goes to grab another file, “ there was also Junpei-kun's mother, Nagi Yoshino, who was killed by a Cursed Spirit. Finally, there was this abduction and murder case of UTokyo transfer student Evelyn Keating where all circumstantial evidence led to Junpei-kun. Since they all tie up together, this makes it worth investigating. Also, I don’t think Gojo-san can’t or won’t solve the case."

“His reputation,” Nanami sighs as he drinks his fourth cup of coffee, “as the best detective of the TJDA, heck the whole of Asia that's dealt with these cases, precedes itself, Ijichi-kun. But, I'm guessing he has other pressing issues to deal with.” Ijichi nods in agreement, saying, “unfortunately like the Resurrection Doll case, again. Additionally, this case is one of the previous cases of...” his voice trailing into the air. Kento's mouth gapes wide open when he looks into the previous investigator's notes and realizes that he might need to collaborate with one of the few people he doesn't actually want to work with. “(L/N)-san's? Really?”

“Yes, Nanami-kun. She's one of the most popular PIs, other than you of course.” Now Nanami was conflicted in his opinion about (F/N) (L/N). As someone who liked to analyze facts and make decisions based on them, he thought that she was too stupid to rely on her intuition and her unconventional methods to win cases, and for her to solve cases within DAYS of receiving them from her clients sounded very inane. “Ijichi-kun,” Kento says as he sinks into his office chair with an exasperated look, “you're aware that I don't exactly think highly of her, do you?”

“Yes, Nanami-kun. I apologize that we have to talk about her,” Ijichi answers, bowing profusely, “especially because she's your opposite, and very much like Gojo-kun. However, there are certain details that are amiss in this case, and we need unconventional methods for this. We have to approach her for help.” Standing up, he goes to the coat rack, collects his raincoat and umbrella, closes the office, and tells Ijichi, “Well, whatever. Let's get this done with.”

The next day, Ijichi and Nanami booked an appointment with the female PI. Upon reaching her office, they knocked on the door that had the sign: “(F/N) (L/N), MS in Criminology, Private Investigator”

“Does she really have to brag about her degree?" Nanami clicks his tongue in annoyance. “Nanami-kun,” Ijichi puts his hand on his shoulder, “it's okay, she believes people would value her credence when they see that she's licensed to investigate,” and knocks on her door. To their surprise, they realized that the door was open, and upon entering the office, their eyes widen in surprise, as they see her, dancing!

With no care in the world, she had her eyes closed, was swaying her body to fast-paced music, snapping her fingers to the beats, as she sang melodiously. Her black blazer atop her peach full-sleeved shirt was swaying with the air to the beats of the song, “The Great Shipwreck of Life,” by IAMX. Little did she know that there were two guests standing in front of her.

“I didn't know that you like to kill your time, dancing, instead of focusing on other cases,” Nanami speaks, causing (F/N) (L/N) to open her eyes and break from her trance. She straightens her blazer and approaches the two men, the clanking of her heels reverberating in her office room, and bowed in front of them, “I don't know if y'all did handshakes or something, so I chose the easiest option because I don't want to be in y'all's bad books or anything. Nice to meet you, I'm (L/N) (F/N).” She kept talking as she asked them to enter and take their seats. “I've been a detective in the States for the past one and a half years, that's when I'd moved to Japan to be closer to my family. I like to introduce myself before I'm asked anything. So, Mr. Kento Nanami, was it? What did you need?” She sat in her office chair and smiled at him.

“Well, (L/N)-san,” Nanami came forward and put his hands on the table, with a straight face, saying, “you and I have different working methodologies, which I'm not really comfortable with when it comes to solving cases. However, I hate to admit, but, there's one of my cases, that's linked to one of your cold cases, and I'd like us to solve together.” Slumping her shoulders forward, with her hands on the table, (F/N) spoke, "So Gojo-kun was right about you. He knew you'd come to me, eventually," causing Nanami to roll his eyes. “One of my cold cases, huh? It's pretty rare that I have those," she says, grinning, “even if I were to help you, I have one question for you, Mr. Kento Nanami. What's in it for me?”

Hello there, welcome to the first chapter of No Body, No Crime. I hope you enjoy this ride :D Do fill out the form mentioned at the start or you can send me an ask if it's convenient, if you want more updates on this story or on any other fandoms. :) If it's in bold, I can't tag you, so, please send me an ask if you want to be added with your new username :) Tagging: @2dmensupermercy @bmthevick @akaashi-todorki @mrskenmakozume @cuz-like-why-not @beware-of-the-rogue @saltyvanilla @ohtobiors @hyeque @animated-moon

#no body no crime series #no body no crime #Spotify #crime fiction #crime drama #detective au #private investigator #nanami x reader #kento nanami #nanami kento #jujustu kaisen #gojo satoru #kiyotaka ijichi

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