bakerstreet | I let her steal into my melancholy heart

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[meme] shipping

I let her steal into my melancholy heart

Darkness Loves Light

No matter how the darkness looms around you - how much you've become the darkness - there's one bright spot in your life - a person who makes everything worthwhile.

It doesn't really matter how they came to you. What does is that they stay. Whether you admit it or not, you seek comfort from them...and, perhaps, them from you, if you're in the same situation.

So, whether you push them away, treat them right, or go so far as to worship them and put them on a pedestal, you don't want them to go now. You crave being with them, or at least being in their presence. Don't ruin this for yourself. After all, what would you do without your little ray of light? You'll do anything to keep them happy and loved. Anything.

Respond to the meme with your character, canon, preferences, and, if you'd like, what position you're character will be in.
Respond to others.

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[The light and ignoring Uprising.]

((Hey this is D.Va's mun but couldn't resist since you mentioned Demons with Alex. Vanessa here is a character from a comic called Abian. The tldr version; Abian is about our human protagonist discovering and becoming part of a literally underground culture of beings that are very much not human. In fact he has to go to address he's given by a member of this race. An abandoned building which he rides the elevator down and bam he's in this strange place.

Vanessa and the others like her are referred to as Abians. Each one feeding off a particular aspect of humanity for their required sustenance. For some it's something quite physical like one that feeds off blood or Vanessa that feeds off flesh. Others more easy to consume like pleasure, pain or sadness.

The cherry on top, and it'd be interesting to see Alex's reaction, is that every human that enters the underground ends up with a pair of angel-like wings that they don't even realize are there at first because of how light they are.

Vanessa herself is, I guess the word would be blunt. She's not stupid, but she's not particularly complex either. She respects and follows the rules of Laventous, the guy who runs the little bastion of humanity in the underground. Lava as he's called more simply is a good guy or at least tries to be so while he'd be suspicious of Alex finding her way down there she'd be welcome and safe in the lounge.))

[ yes, definitely. & i'm game for most anything. ]

[ ota ; light unless you want some kind of winter soldier type au which is 👌]

[Let me know if this start works for you!]

New York had strangely become his home after the run in with a meta that was able to send him through a breach into another Earth. It had taken a lot of getting used to, especially when he found himself sticking around Jessica Jones for both protection and to help her get her business in order. The least he could do for her help in trying to find out how to get him back home on his own Earth. The woman was crass, wreckless, and yet Barry found himself sticking by her, staying with her.

Essentially, he did something similar back on Earth Two as a CSI. Forensic Science skills could only be handy to supplement what Miss Jones did as an investigator. More than that, he had grown to respect her, to be her friend and she his, something he had thought an impossibility with how different they were.

Barry looked up from where he was analyzing the latest piece of evidence to see her walk in. Immediately, he lit up with a smile.

He kept a close eye on her, watching and waiting for Frost to stop trying to get out. Until then he maintained his air of calm, willing Caitlin to find the strength she needed in him.

It was only once he could feel her calm and she let go of his hands that he let out his own relieved sigh. He didn't want to think about what could have happened if he hadn't been there. "I'm fine," was his automatic response, as if there were no way she could ever hurt him. Truthfully his hands ached, feeling like the cold had soaked down to the bone. He flexed his hands gingerly as he looked them over and although they were pale up past his wrists Chris didn't think it was anything a little heat couldn't remedy.

"Seriously, I'm okay." he assured her, cracking a smile as if to prove it. "What about you?" He wanted to reach up and brush her hair away from her face but he knew his touch would be chilled and he didn't want to make her stress over it.

She didn't believe him when he said he was fine. As much as Chris learned about her, Caitlin had learned a lot about him. And fine was definitely something that they disagreed on. The smile didn't quite reassure her either. Her gaze fell on his hands, paler than they should be and immediately moved forward to take his hands in hers again. If only she had a way to undo the cold that she would cause. She caused this.

She rubbed her hands over his to try and warm them up.

"I think your definition of fine is a lot like my definition of fine," she replied finally. Chris may be her whitelighter but he still was half witch, when he explained it to her. "Can you stay?" she asked softly, looking up at him. It was then when she noticed how close she was to him.

It's not that he doesn't want her there, or even that he does. Either way, he isn't admitting it to her. That would give her something over him that she'd never let go. It'd be annoying and insufferable. Never cute. No, not in the least.

Either way, they were here. In another hotel room thousands of miles from where they called their respective living areas. It wasn't that he minded. Alex was, arguably, the person he'd most rather be around. Again, not something he was willing to let on. No reason to give the girl any more fodder for her incessant attempts at teasing him.

His nerdy cheer was fucking abrasive, and so were those goddamned bow ties, but Barry was a damn good forensic analyst. Jessica never intended to pick up another stray after she fired Malcolm - these arrangements always go to shit, after all - but something about the idea of a guy torn through space-time and forced to live apart from his family, his friends, and everything he knows maybe kind of got to her. Also, Exhibit A, he's smart as fuck. And that makes her job easier. Anyway, he didn't have an ID or even a legal identity here and he needed something to help him get established in this shithole of a dimension, so, begrudgingly, they ended up here.

He was proving to be a loyal little shit, too, at least from what she'd seen so far. Surprisingly brave, when the opportunity arose. Kind of like Malcolm or Trish, except a giant fucking dork.

She ducked under the crime scene tape after another lap around the perimeter, he smiled his dipshit smile, and she gave him a flat-eyed sneer. "If you don't hurry the fuck up, we're gonna get arrested."

When he was silent for a while, Alex looked up from the papers of his father's that she was reading. There was a smudge of ink on her face from where she had been holding the pen, because more than occasionally, Howard Strand's writing could be more than a little bit... Well, it could be completely insane, and while Alex spoke fluent crazy, there was some levels of crazy that even she didn't reach. At least not yet. Give her a few more weeks of not sleeping and she might just reach it.

But for now she just focused on him, the concern evident in her expression. Alex could be very bad at keeping her feelings out of her voice when it came to people that she cared for, and whether Richard Strand wanted to admit it or not, he was counted among that number. "Are you okay? We can always order up more coffee from roomservice." The look of concern lifted into a bit of a smile. "Though they might think we're really pushing this 'unlimited coffee' to the limits."

He reaches his hands into his pockets, pressing them deep inside the emptiness inside them. What were they doing here? Really, what? Were they searching more 'ghosts'? They had more than enough of those back in the states. More than enough mysteries that she could hunt after and harass him about. More than enough tapes - reasons for them to spend time together; alone with one another.

None of these thoughts were things that he would ever want her to know. The fact that he actually enjoyed these moments. This time of quiet as he watched her pour over his father's notes and the things that he'd just rather not deal with alone.

Instead, his eyes flick from the window to her, and then to the phone by the window. "Our coffee intake is the least of their worries." Housekeeping's gossip is louder when you're taking an early morning walk for more, you guessed it, coffee. Gossip which Richard seemed to find entertaining by the tone of his voice and slight upturn of his lips. "You should take a break." They both should, but really, could either of their minds stop thinking about any of this? Probably not.

Gossip was something that Alex tended to ignore. After being a woman who worked both in radio and then in podcasting, it was something that she'd had more than her fair share of. Things like memes about people shipping her and Nic or her and Strand had been filling her inbox and twitter feed for the last two years and more than one person whom they'd met in real life had assumed they were together.

Alex had never told Strand that her mother had called her after listening to an episode and asked if they were 'dating.' Where dating here actually meant 'was she having sex with her source' and she'd needed to assure the woman who was constantly on her about getting married that she wasn't involved with Richard like that. Her mother didn't buy it, and Alex was pretty sure that Amalia and Nic really didn't either anymore, even if it was still the truth.

Ethics. She had them. Or at least she had some somewhere. Even if they were harder to find when he almost smiled like that. "You know," she countered, "you should take a break too, Richard. We've been at this," Consulting her watch, Alex just groaned. "Five and a half hours. I swear I've read greek easier than I've read this."

[ he thinks he's THE OPPOSITE OF LIGHT

but it could go either way since he's only 16 and hasn't had time to reach peak brood. ota age-appropriate for shipping, wide ota for gen. ]

That sneer, as he'd learned, didn't really hold a lot of actual heat or malice. Barry had just finished up his notes and tucked the notepad neatly into his blazer's pocket. He reached up and fixed his glasses, adjusting the thick lenses up further on his nose.

"Just about finished, ma'am."

It was less a term of respect, but more of an affectionate nickname at this point. He stood, lanky form unfolding as he drew himself up to his full height, and surveyed the scene around them before looking at her again, understanding he's right in the middle of a delicate crime scene. He made his way over carefully, ensuring to not trip over his own two feet as he finally made it to her side with a huge smile.

The cases that she let him work on were far more fascinating and different than any case he had seen previously.

"It's okay, you don't..." Chris trailed off as she took his hands and tried to warm them. It wasn't really fair of him to protest if he would have done the same, right?

He couldn't help but chuckle softly at the remark, knowing just how right she was. But hey, they were both still alive and in one piece. Surely that counted as fine. The gentle friction of her now-warm skin against his was indeed chasing the chill away, though he slightly winced from the little tingles of increased circulation in his hands.

A mildly joking reply was on his tongue, as was his usual way to try and distract or deflect since he was still intent on trying to play it off like the cold hadn't gotten to him. The tone of her question made him hold it back though and Chris looked up from their hands, finding himself looking in her eyes. Had they always been so rich in color? He couldn't recall. "Yeah, I can stay." he replied, voice matching hers in tone. "I can stay as long as you need me."

"For as long as you can," was her immediate answer.

Caitlin didn't move away, just stayed close. The green in his eyes seemed to be so vibrant. She almost wanted to ask if he had used a spell to keep her from moving and giving him his space. He was her whitelighter. A guardian angel. But, if her own visits to the Halliwell family were any indicator, it wasn't something that seemed too taboo for a whitelighter and charge to become close. Sometimes, even the famous Halliwell line needed a metahuman's help.

She felt that she could be herself around Chris. That she could be herself and not be afraid to be Frost while working with him. He brought her back from the edges when she feared that it would've been too late. From becoming the villain her Earth Two self had become.

She didn't let go of his hands but stopped rubbing at them at his wince. "If you'd like. You could stay here as long as you can if you'd like. I'd like you to stay for as long as you'd like."

Oh, she must have been hanging around Barry too much if she picked up on his rambling habits.

"Some of it is Greek." He countered, eyes glancing back at her, almost appraisingly. If he weren't a man of logic, he could almost think she was reading his mind, but she wasn't. Mind reading wasn't real, and if it were somehow inside the realm of possibilities, he doubted that she'd be able to read his.

Hope and cheerfulness in the face of the bizarre wrapped up in licorice shoelaces didn't mix well with cynicism and a black expanse of cold hard facts.

As he turned, he bent to pick up a few stray pieces of paper. "And Latin, and Sanskrit." The more he spoke and the more he collected the stray papers, the closer he moved toward his hope and sunshine filled target. "How you've managed, this long might be a minor miracle." He kept collecting papers into a pile in his hand. Carefully and meticulously until he reached for the one, she was currently holding. "If I believed in miracles, that is." And there was the smirk, full on and up close. He might be toying with her. He was toying with her, but it was fun. It'd become a habit to do so, like smoking or hard liquor; and he was fairly certain she knew it. "We should go out."

Alex wasn't a mind reader, not at all. As he would say 'there's no such thing as a mind reader Alex'. But after two years of being close to him and trips like this where they ran all over on this black tape case or that, Alex Reagan considered herself something of an amature expert on Dr. Richard Strand and his PhD in condescension from Yale. So, she was well aware that she was on the entertainment menu now that he was bored.

Wasn't the first time, and it wouldn't be the last, and there was a little glance of amusement for a minute before she gestured to her phone and the translator app that was open on it. "Well, thankfully for your lack of faith in miracles," the smile was evident in her voice even if she kept it off her face for the moment. "The rational explanation is good old fashioned technology." If she was going to be toyed with, Alex was most definitely teasing him back.

But he had her attention now, and she hit the close button on the phone with an audible click before she dropped her chin into her hand and studied him from above the line of her glasses. "Where are we going?"

It was easy to tell that she was doing her best to keep up with his game. It wouldn't be nearly as fun if she didn't at least try. Besides, her reactions, that glance of curiosity and challenge that she gave him over the lines of her glasses; it wasn't a look he got from anyone but her. It offered an excitement that could easily become an addiction. Had become an addiction. Alex Reagan and her unguarded emotions had become Richard's addiction, and he was fairly sure most of her listeners knew it. At least the ones that could read between the lines of their verbal microexpressions.

"Poveglia Island." That was it. No explanation, no exposition as to why. Just the name before he set the papers down, waiting for her to do the rest herself. She was always so good at believing she knew his reasoning and thoughts. It was fun to watch the wheels work as she figured it out.

"Poveglia Island?" The words were parroted back to him, and Alex checked to make sure that the recorder was turned on. It automatically did it when one of them started talking now to make sure that they saved space on the drive. It just made the most sense. And if the two of them were going to have a conversation about going some place, then it would make it at least into the editing bay, unless they had a fight about her turning it off. Which thankfully wasn't something that they had right now.

He wanted to see the wheels spinning, and he would be treated to a show for it at the moment, as Alex was clearly thinking, trying to remember what she'd heard about this place. "As in 'the most haunted place in Italy off the coast of Venice where thousands of people died of the plague and then where they built an insane asylum on top of it?'" The mention of 'insane asylum' earned an upward movement of her eyebrows because if there were words that Alex Reagan hated just as much as 'demons' now it was most definitely 'insane asylum.' Especially when one put them together in context with 'haunted.' Because of course it would be. Let's be honest here, when did anyone other than Strand say that they weren't.

"So I'm guessing you have contacts in the Italian government? Because I'm pretty sure it's illegal to go there, and I'd rather not get deported from Italy. I like it here."

Where Veronica was supposed to be, was in her study. She was supposed to be reading the same old book she'd read many hundreds of times before, studying something that she knew from front to back. There were guests in the castle after all and unimportant as the youngest princess was in the grand scheme of things, it wouldn't do to have her wandering around unattended.

What she was actually doing though, was slipping away from view moments after she'd been left in the study and going to find one of the castle's guests, Lord Tyrion Lannister. Tyrion who didn't see her as nothing but the youngest princess with little political backing. He saw her as herself, as Veronica, a girl just eighteen years old and for that she liked being around him, being with him. She doesn't hurry him, though she does smile at him every two steps then right back to her destination, clearly excited and more than cheerful to show him....

A tree.

An apple tree, to be precise, in full bloom filling the air with blossoms and perfume. And underneath all that? A picnic with a simple spread consisting mainly of wine with some bread and fruit, evidence that Veronica had been the one to set this up and that all she had thought of was what he would like, what he would enjoy.

This time, she does hurry him with a laugh and a turn to look at him, blonde hair in the breeze and eyes blue as the sky,

"What do you think? Do you like it?"

The wheels and faces and expressions that the realizations elicited did not disappoint. Alex was a buffet of emotions that Richard enjoyed on a now almost daily basis. Daily, since the past few incidents. Incidents which were now taking them to a remote and 'ghost' infested island.

"I wouldn't suggest it otherwise." He wasn't the type to go breaking into places that would get him deported from a place he might want to go at a later date.

He stood, apparently satisfied with the show she'd already given him. Besides, if they were going, then they'd both need their coats. The spring air was still brisk, even if it was also pleasant against the skin.

"Or would you prefer gelato instead." He knew her feelings on these places. On going to 'the scene of the crime' as it were. So he couldn't help tossing another light tournament over his shoulder as he put on his coat. The ghost of a smile hidden by his positioning away from her.

Slipping into her red jacket was second nature, as was gathering the recorder from the desk and slipping it off so that it didn't end up with nothing but a mass of static from being in the front of her pocket. Oh, she could carry it, but that tended to make people nervous and considering all the attention they were already receiving for being the two of them here in the hotel, Alex would rather not do so so no one thought that the two of them were recording a porno or something here.

The thought bought a little bit of red to the top of her ears before she flicked her hair over her collar and threw the bag with the rest of her equipment and extra chargers and the like over her shoulder. She was shorter than he was by a fair amount, but she lingered in the doorway with her eyebrow headed towards her hairline. "Something tells me that feeding me gelato is just a ploy so that we end up on the island when it's starting to get dark."

Because that is totally something that he's likely to do. Blah blah blah the science of the scene and it being more quiet and blah blah blah Strandisms.

He noticed. Her face was reflected in the mirror and just in sight. He let his thoughts ruminate on what she was thinking. Of course, she was. Alex was a person who stood like an open book to everyone. It was a strange kind of refreshing, and knowing what she was probably thinking, what the hotel staff was already talking about, brought the smile a bit wider.

Then there was the comment about the gelato. She wasn't wrong. Either way, it would take time to get there, and he'd planned things out so they'd have time before the sun went down to arrive and do a cursory search of the island. What she had yet to be told was that they'd be staying overnight. "Are you starting to be afraid of the dark?" He turned back, one brow arched as he opened the door.

As soon as Gabrielle started plotting something, it was like hanging banners all around her in thick letters announcing 'I AM PLOTTING! HUMOR ME!!' The tiny little side-glances she thought wouldn't be noticed, the too-enthusiastic attention given to any given topic of conversation or activity, the more-than-usual rambling on her side of the conversations. She may be an epic spinner of stories but she would never be an actress... or win a battle of bluffs.

The encounter with the poorly organized band of farmers who thought road robbery would be easier than plowing was probably a welcome break from her day of attempting to be subtle. Hitting stupid men with the blunt parts of their weapons was a welcome break from her attempts to set them up for either some sort of pre-planned situation or pun Gabrielle had been trying to guide them towards. "Alright, I give. This is probably the least stressful part of today! It would be SO much easier-" Staff combo on three different men with both the brains and the muscles of young ox. "If you would just pretend to let me prank you."

Another pause as a blow to the ankles lays another wannabe-robber into a muddy wheel rut. "Like you usually do!"

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I let her steal into my melancholy heart

Nicole "Nikki" Geiszler l Pacific Rim AU

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Poe Dameron / Star Wars

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Testing him. Be gentle.

lmfao that icon

I'm always gentle!

Except on occasion ...

Gentle but enthusiastic!

bruce wayne, gotham.

right? here's a better one

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Better then rough and sarcastic

Well, I suppose that depends!

On the tape?

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