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#(or is it that people walk in like normal except that they had a gun in their backpack
radiance1 · 8 months
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There was a new cafe open in Gotham.
Such thing would usually not be a problem whatsoever, except for the fact that the family that ran said bakery just appeared out of nowhere one day. No one knew who they were, not where they came from.
The two parents- Mr. and Mrs. Fenton seemed to be the usual case of brilliant scientists about to snap and go crazy, and yes, everyone who visited said store waited with baited breath for said thing to happen.
Except, it never did.
They were just being your normal (as you can get in Gotham) run of the mill parents taking care of their two kids while simultaneously running a bakery.
Almost made them feel silly for waiting for the other shoe to drop, but in Gotham you could never be too sure.
Their oldest child, Jasmine Fenton passed college with flying colors, and seemed to be your normal run of the mil teenage girl busy with taking care of school and stuff.
Their youngest and last child- Danny Fenton- was a bit of an enigma, to be honest. He didn't seem to be going to school, instead staying and helping run his parents' bakery alongside- or alone when they were busy with something else- his parents. The room noticeably got colder whenever he was around, his touch colder than the normal human should be, his breath a tad too cold whenever he was speaking over someone's shoulder, and his teeth literal fangs.
They assume him to be a meta, and if he didn't already have parents would have assumed him to be Mr. Freeze's long-lost child or something.
Everyone was determined to treat them like a normal family, maybe a tad weird but honestly, it wouldn't be inaccurate to say there was something weird about everyone who lived in Gotham.
They were just a normal family, maybe have a past they're running from, who are the Gothamites to judge. At least, until they were attacked by one of Gotham's rouges.
The daughter was at school, well out of the fire zone.
Ms. Fenton calmly rang out a bell on the counter, while Mr. Fenton didn't even stop from where he was carrying multiple people's orders (with the help from small green beings the Fenton's call blob ghosts) and then out from the ceiling appeared what looked like extremely high-tech weapons and without a second's delay were they fired, the villain was not killed, but were knocked out cold.
Then their son appeared from the kitchen, dusting his hands off on his apron, calmly walked to the villain and proceeded to throw them out of the establishment as easy as breathing and walk back into the kitchen as if nothing had happened.
They knew there was another shoe just waiting to drop, and drop it did. They're just glad it wasn't the result of another villain added to the rogue's ranks.
And hey, they'll be turning a blind eye for as long as they could when said family makes some of the best pastries and meanest cups of coffee in Gotham.
(Two days after that was it made known that their daughter pulled out one of those same high-tech guns on the Red Hood.)
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groguspicklejar · 5 months
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part 7 of zombie!ghost
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Ghost was startled when Soap hugged him. the Sergeant, John MacTavish, shed a few tears upon seeing his friend again, regardless of the slight change in him. you watched them with a smile.
the two men took you and Ghost back to their base, a small cabin deep in the woods. it looked as if they weren't going to stay here for long and you wondered if you and Ghost had something to do with that.
their Captain, John Price, arrived an hour later in a small truck and he looked as weirded out as the other Sergeants by Ghost but otherwise, they were also glad to see their comrade.
Kyle offered a handshake and a cup of coffee and listens as you narrate everything down to the last detail. you left out the part about getting bitten, though, not sure if they'll believe you when you tell them that you're not infected. that you're... something else.
like Ghost.
you're glad to have the new pair of gloves. and you kept that bit of information to yourself.
"so you haven't seen others like him?" you asked, gesturing to Ghost, who sat next to you.
Gaz shakes his head. "didn't even think it was possible for the undead to be sentient."
"or for the living to walk among them." Price added. you gave him a worried look. "believe it or not, news travels fast around these parts."
you realize it must've been that last raiding party that spread the word. Soap and Gaz must've heard about it from one of them and that lead to you and Ghost being here.
"i'd like to know how that happened." the Captain prods with a gentle tone.
Ghost clutches his gun. the Sergeants tense up because of this.
normally, people don't react well to seeing a bite on anyone. with good reason. no one wants to be infected.
but with the fact that Ghost is different and you can walk through hoards of zombies without getting a single scratch on your head, you suppose they can make an exception.
your jaw clenches. "promise you won't freak out."
"we won't." Price nods.
you glance at Ghost, who looks at you. then you take a deep breath. "i was bitten a couple of months ago."
the silence that follows is deafening. your heart pounds in your chest as you hold the Captain's stare. the Sergeants glance at each other, utterly bewildered by what you'd just said.
Price leans back on his chair with a hard expression. "and you didn't turn..."
"so far." you shrug, though your movement is stiff. "i don't know if i ever will."
your hand reaches for the vecro on one glove, the one that covers the mark. immediately, Ghost's hand clasps yours. you look at him, confused, but he's staring at his Captain.
and you know that look. he's haunted. he knows what people think when they see a bite. he's had to kill people over it.
he doesn't want his team to hurt you. he doesn't want to hurt them.
"it's okay..." you whisper to him.
it takes a minute for him to let go. and you slowly remove the glove on one hand and show him the scar. your fingers were shaking as he looked at it and extended his hand. you placed yours in his and allowed him to examine it.
Gaz and Soap moved closer to observe too.
"it was... scary... those first few minutes after i was attacked." your voice becomes shaky. "Ghost didn't leave my side during that time. i waited those six hours thinking that i'll probably be killed by someone defending themselves from me, but... but when the sun came up, i was still... me."
that day still haunts your nightmares. feeling the inevitable. thinking you were going to die without really dying. some nights you see yourself tearing through flesh, sinking your teeth in people who've long since passed.
after a long moment of consideration, Price smiles as he lets go of your hand. "interesting."
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"what now, Captain?" Gaz inquires once you've gone to sleep. Ghost sits by your bed, ever the sentinel.
"contact Colonel Vargas." Price says. "tell him we found what we were looking for"
"and Ghost?" Soap adds, looking at him through the crack of the door to your room.
Price considers him for a moment. the boy hasn't been himself since Ghost left. none of them were. but they held onto each other because that's what Ghost would've wanted.
but he's here now. through some sick, twisted miracle, he's still here with them. and he brought another miracle with him.
you.
you were the way forward. a spark of hope in this desolate nightmare. Price would be damned if he lets either one of you go.
"he's coming with us." he tells the boys, placing a hand on Soap's shoulder and smiles. "can't leave a man behind, can we?"
for the first time in a while, Soap grins. "'course not, Captain."
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you guys didn't think i forgot about this, did you?🌚 banners by @cafekitsune Cure For Me Masterlist offer a coin to the picklejar
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criminal || Jeff the killer
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smut 18+, minors dni, PLEASE READ: TW: CNC, FACE FUCKING, gun play?, bank robbery, kidnapping at the end
Jeff the killer knew he was good at what he did.
He was good at killing people quickly.
Or making them suffer, depending on which he was in the mood for.
What Jeff wasn’t good at however, was two things.
1. Listening to an order.
2. Having patience.
Of course he tried his hardest to suck it up, listening to almost all of Slender’s commands without a second thought.
Those commands usually involved things he was good at.
Except for today.
Jeff grumbled unhappily to himself in the front seat of the toyota Ben managed to buy off of craigslist.
Robbery was the proxies job, not Jeff’s.
So imagine Jeff’s surprise when his latest order was to rob the local bank right before closing.
It wasn’t that the mission was hard.
Yet, he couldn’t help but feel annoyed that he was chosen for the job.
Eyeless Jack had been chosen as his getaway driver. Not out of choice but out of convenience.
Apparently Masky had been shot a couple of times the last mission they were on and Hoody has been moping around ever since. Since Toby wasn’t trusted enough to complete this kind of task alone, Jeff was the next runner up in Slender’s eyes.
Tasks like this were the closest Slenderman could get to getting Jeff as a proxy. So naturally he took what he could.
EJ was never normally a blabber to Jeff. Whether or not Jeff would come and say it outright, EJ was probably his favorite at the mansion. He wasn’t insufferable, usually keeping to himself and complying with Jeff’s odd favors.
However during this car ride, Jeff couldn’t help but consider Eyeless Jack to be yapping.
For some odd reason, EJ wasn’t in the mood to be ignoring Jeff’s usual disdain and grumpiness. Instead he chose to ramble on about his latest kill and the medical discoveries he had made.
On a typical Tuesday evening Jeff would’ve told him to shut the fuck up. But he was so miserable being assigned this task in the first place, he found himself holding his tongue.
The dim street lights were the only source of light on the street they rode down, the car not having headlights. Ben deemed them not to be necessary. It was almost comical watching EJ try to navigate the road without them.
Jeff unhappily reached into the glovebox, pulling out a black face mask and pair of sunglasses. If he had things go his way, he would’ve been wearing a ski mask. Unfortunately Slender disagreed, his concern revolving around not even making it into the bank itself.
He shoved the face mask on, the tips of his raw uncut smile peaking out near his ears. He put the sunglasses on, before grabbing the traditional black sack and hand gun Masky had lent him. Jeff thought the 1930’s sack was a little lame, but it was practical.
Jeff forced himself out of the car, quietly shutting the door behind him. EJ rolled down the window, deciding to remind Jeff of what they were doing.
“Alright look, just go in there, get the money so we can go,” EJ said firmly, the words catching Jeff’s attention.
Jeff mumbled an annoyed agreement, deciding it would be best to go ahead and walk on in.
“Hey Jeff?” EJ called. Jeff gritted his teeth in irritation, quickly turning around.
“What?!”
If EJ had eyes, he would’ve rolled them.
“Don’t kill nobody this time,”
Jeff shoved off his request, shoving his last mission filling in for the proxies in the back of his mind. It wasn’t his fault that Slender put him on a proxy mission. He also didn’t specify that he had to leave all the hostages alive.
Jeff muttered curses under his breath, mainly insulting EJ, before deciding to whistle.
He strolled into the bank casually, the hand gun tucked into his back waistband.
You were closing up for the night, the sight of Jeff annoying you. You had counted every drawer except for your own, and now you’d have to stay past closing. You brushed off your pencil skirt, painting on your best customer service smile.
“Hi, how can I help you?” You asked. You were puzzled by Jeff’s appearance, the sunglasses throwing you off. You wanted to assume the best, thinking he possibly blind and cautious of infections.
Jeff could hardly contain his excitement once he saw you. You had such a lovely face, your smile bright and filling him with ease. Your delicious thighs were covered by your black pencil skirt, your hair in a tight professional ponytail. He was smiling under his mask, a genuine one that wasn’t carved on.
“I’d like to make a withdrawal,” Jeff said calmly, his voice smooth like butter. His eyes scanned the bank quickly, realizing you were the only one there. Jeff mentally cursed to himself as he realized he hadn’t gotten out of the mansion much lately.
He could feel heat rushing to his cheeks as he looked at you, your curious eyes searching his covered face for further elaboration. Even in your modest uniform, Jeff could see your natural curves. How long had it been since he had been around a normal girl? One without a clock for an eye or burnt pale skin like his?
“Sir are you okay-” You began to ask, before your eyes fluttered down to his crotch. His boner was poking not so discreetly through his black jeans, your face flushing pink. Your surprised look snapped Jeff out of his daze, causing him to quickly yank his gun out of his back waistband.
“Put the fucking money in the bag bitch and no one gets hurt,” Jeff growled, shoving the bag at you. Fear crashed down over you like a violent wave as tears prickled in your eyes quickly. Your hands shook as you grabbed the keys to your cash drawer, struggling to insert the key into the keyhole.
Jeff watched in awe as you struggled to miss the keyhole for a third time. He rolled his eyes. “Useless bitch do I have to do everything? Give it to me,” He sighed. You held out the keys hesitantly, your body shaking in fear and an odd arousal as you heard him talk more. He unlocked the cash drawer, before turning his attention back to you.
“I’m not going to touch it. Put it in the fucking sack before I blow your head off,” Jeff spat. He stepped out of the way, his boner not going down. You grabbed handfuls of cash, shoving them in Jeff’s sack. He watched as you bent over, your ass looking great through your tight uniform.
“Please don’t kill me,” You whispered, tears finally falling from your waterline. Jeff contemplated his options, remembering Slenderman’s and EJ’s warnings. You were cute after all, even for a little bank teller.
“Maybe we can work something out doll,” Jeff’s pale hand stroked your face as you shoved more stacks of money into the bag. His touch felt disgusting, but his words were like pure honey. “What d-do you want?” You stuttered. You finished emptying out your drawer, turning to him and handing him the money.
Jeff towered over you, his ashy black hair hanging over his forehead and top of his sunglasses.
“Well doll, you’ve created a problem for me you see,” Jeff purred. He grabbed your tiny hand, placing it over his aching boner. Just your touch was enough to make him shift in place. Your face went bright red, your eyes widening. “I c-can’t just let you fuck me. There are cameras everywhere. I’ll be humiliated-” You began rambling, afraid that this conversation wasn’t a negation.
Jeff glanced down at the plentiful stacks of money in the bag, figuring spending a few extra minutes with you would be a decent reward. “I’m a man of compromise,” Jeff offered. He was itching to pull the trigger on the gun he was holding at your head, but taking out a camera or two would have to do for now.
He shot at the cameras on each side behind the desk, leaving only the main one in the lobby on. Jeff mentally thanked Masky for the silencer on his main gun, as it gave him more time with you. “No cameras, and as much as i’d love to ruin your tight pussy, no sex. Knees doll,” Jeff grunted. He was having a hard time adjusting to negation with a regular human, but your puppy eyes full of tears were just too darling for him to ignore.
You wanted to be disgusted by the situation, to be kicking and screaming. But something about Jeff, the way he talked and moved had you aching for more. Your bare knees hit the raw carpet, promising rug burn on your skin. Your hands were still shaking as you began to undo his belt, the killer staring down at you eagerly.
You slowly unzipped his zipper, the two of you working together to pull down his pants. “I don’t have all night,” Jeff told you impatiently. You squirmed to have him fully revealed in front of you, his cock hard in front of your face. His tip was a pinkish color, while the rest of his shaft matched the rest of his pale white skin. You slowly took him in your mouth, screwing your eyes shut. Jeff let out a quiet groan, a string of curses following behind it.
“Nuh uh doll, open those pretty eyes f’me,” Jeff ordered, trying to sound stern as you bobbed your head up and down his cock. You weren’t half bad for a little bank teller, your nipples poking through your button up as you struggled to keep your eyes on the man standing before you. Jeff grabbed your slicked back ponytail, forcing you to take more of him.
“Thats it, take it all,” Jeff murmured, licking his lips under his mask. You forced your jaw to go slack, his fingers tightly yanking at your hair. “I’d relax if I were you, unfortunately for you I don’t have all night,” Jeff sighed. You almost raised one eyebrow, before his shaft forced itself down your throat. Your waterline filled with tears immediately, your nose touching his black curls.
Jeff sighed in relief at the sensation of your tight throat, his hips beginning to buck on their own. You listened obediently, staring up at him as he throat fucked you. You struggled to breathe, a burning sensation clouding your nose. “You know, you’re actually pretty good at this,” Jeff snickered. He pulled out briefly, offering you the reward of breathing.
You gasped like a fish out of water, inhaling as much oxygen as you could. A foul mixture of saliva and drool pooled under the carpet beneath you, soaking it. Jeff considered praising you, complimenting how pretty you looked like this. Your face all red, hair messy, covered in tears and spit. But as the thought crossed his mind, there was only one other thing he would like your face coated in.
Jeff forced your head back onto his cock, continuously face fucking you as he pleased. He could feel himself getting closer, his hips stuttering. In the far distance he heard the sound of police sirens, causing him to grit his teeth in annoyance. “I’d love to paint your face doll, but I can’t leave any DNA behind. You understand right?” Jeff asked mockingly.
You almost mentally asked what he meant, before his tip hit the back of your throat one final time. His seed was warm and salty, causing you to gag at the slightest taste your tongue had the displeasure of sensing. He stayed lodged in your throat for a moment, enjoying watching you struggle to swallow him all.
Jeff snickered as he pulled out of your mouth, your knees raw with rug burn and your throat desperately trying to swallow his cum.
You panted as you looked up at him, the police sirens getting closer. He fixed himself up, extending a hand for you to take. You stared at him curiously, forgetting your situation and taking his hand.
“I’m not allowed to kill anyone. And now that you’ve seen me, you’re a liability,” Jeff told you. Your eyes darted back and forth at his sunglasses, searching for a look of his orbs.
“Looks like you’re going to have to come with me. You’ve grown on me anyways,” Jeff huffed. In a swift motion he threw you over his shoulder, dragging you and the bag of money to EJ’s car.
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topgun-imagines · 2 years
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Pay Attention
Requested: no
Summary: Ice needs something to fiddle with. Braiding your hair seems like a good idea.
Word count: 1.1k
Warnings: none
Pairings: Tom ‘Iceman’ Kazansky x fem!reader
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The multi-platform classroom was noisy as you and the other Top Gun students filed into the room. Being one of the first in the dimly lit room, you sat between Chipper and Maverick. You placed your feet on the metal bar in front of you as you doodled on the corner of your notebook page.
Your peace only lasted a few more moments before Chipper pulled your notebook away making you roll your eyes. He drew a tic-tac-toe board before marking his spot and handing it back to you wordlessly. With nothing better to do you joined in on the game. Other students entered the room while you and Chipper played, the row behind you filling as Hollywood, Wolfman, Iceman, and Slider all piled into the row, leaving the rest of the class standing behind them or seated on the stairs.
“Damnit,” Chipper mumbled as you smirked, crossing your win on the board just as Viper, Jester, and Charlie walked in. The room quieted down once your instructors made it to the front. You grinned as Chipper rolled his eyes, flipping you off as you turned to face Viper as he began speaking.
In the row behind you, Ice pulled his pen out of his uniform pocket and began twirling it expertly around his fingers.
The lesson began as Jester pulled up the flight simulations that each pilot had submitted, Viper beginning to lecture Maverick on his. Charlie hopped in as well, critiquing the pilot for his risky maneuvers that if done incorrectly, would surely get him killed. You paid little attention as the blonde instructor in front of you flirted with Mav. Ice shifted behind you, sitting up in his chair and no doubt smirking at the interaction.
Viper switched from Maverick to you, commenting on how it was a perfect example of a textbook maneuver. You took notes on his and Charlie's comments which were significantly shorter than the ones they had for Mav due to the fact that your plan was way less likely to get you killed.
A noise sounded from behind you, causing you to glance back to see Ice’s gold pen rolling down the platform and up to the front of the room. Snickers erupted through the class which were soon silenced by a harsh look from Viper. Ice groaned quietly as his pen clattered on the floor, ignoring the stares of the other aviators and flipping Slider off when he teased him.
Everything went back to normal and the lesson continued on. You startled slightly when you felt a warm breath on your neck. “Can I play with your hair?” Ice whispered, pressing his lips to the shell of your ear. You nodded slightly, trying your hardest not to draw attention to you and Ice. The pair of you had been dating for a while, first meeting in the academy before you ran into each other and reconnected a few years ago. While neither of you had said anything about your relationship, everyone could tell the connection the two of you had. No one dared to say anything, however. Except for Maverick.
Ice straitened again and reached his hands down. He pulled the elastic out of your hair and began running his finger through it. It was soothing to have him play with your hair and you knew he felt the same. Your blond pilot was always fiddling with something whether it be a pen or his aviators he always had something in his hands. It helped calm him.
Focusing on the lesson, you noticed that Viper had moved on to criticizing Hollywood’s tactics, leaving only two people left.
Ice’s fingers moved through your hair skillfully. He brushed out a few of the knots, being careful not to hurt you or pull too hard. You leaned back into his touch, Ice leaning forward slightly to make it easier. His fingers were gentle and deliberate as they moved through the soft brown strands of your hair. Chipper heard your quiet hum as Ice began scratching your scalp and turned to look at you. He grinned at you when he saw your relaxed face along with Ice’s hands in your hair.
Your eyebrows furrowed when you felt Ice begin to separate your hair into three sections, smiling softly when you realized what he was trying to do. Ice knew how much you loved when he braided your hair, always offering to when you struggled with it. He was good at it too, managing to make it better than the last each and every time.
Out of the corner of your eye, you checked the clock, noting that there was only about 20 minutes left of the lesson.
The pilot behind you began braiding your hair, his long, skilled fingers weaving it together, expertly. Your hair was long, meaning that it would take Ice at least 15 minutes to properly braid your hair like he wanted to. Not that he was complaining.
Viper and Charlie continued to lecture you on the plans that each of you had submitted. They finally came to the last group which you could tell would take a while. Their plan was worse than Mavericks. Viper droned on about how their decision was reckless and foolish, a decision that would surely get them killed and destroy their plane.
You closed your eyes, relishing in the feeling of Ice’s fingers gently pulling your hair into a tight braid. He could win a medal for this. You thought as he secured the end of your braid with the elastic he pulled from your hair earlier. While Viper and Charlie were busy scrutinizing the pair in the row behind Ice, he leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss to the back of your hair, pulling back but leaving his hand on your shoulder.
“Class dismissed.” Viper called. You were startled, opening your eyes and moving away from your boyfriend’s soft touch.
Gathering your notebook and pencils you stood with Chipper, ready to make your way out of the classroom. “I thought you came in with a braid?” He commented offhandedly.
You rolled your eyes fondly at the person you considered to be one of your best friends. “Well then, you obviously don’t pay much attention.” You teased your RIO. Chipper grumbled something colorful under his breath in return.
The pair of you were just about out of the classroom when you heard Viper's voice behind you. “Kazansky,” He called. You watched your blond pilot turn toward your superior. “Next time, try to pay attention,” Viper tossed Ice his pen as the latter gaped at his superior. You and Chipper snickered as Ice let out a stuttered ‘Yes sir’.
a/n: Thanks for reading! This is just a short (but hopefully cute one) Hope you enjoyed! Requests are open
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sugar-grigri · 23 days
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Have you seen Fami's right ear ? Because I haven't.
The game of interpretation in reverse, or focusing on what seems to be avoided by the chapter, not shown, works! and even if it doesn't work, it's still fun and leads to wild theories, which I love to imagine. And this post is no exception to that rule.
We had chapter 155 where we interpreted backwards to find answers to Denji and Nayuta's existential crises.
We also interpreted backwards to better understand the inconsistencies in Yoshida's behavior and the implications for chapter 156.
In my opinion, chapter 157 is no exception to this rule. Focusing on what the author refuses to show in order to find the answers fits in well with a mangaka fascinated by cinema.
Not convinced? Chapter 156 ended on Asa's legs, like a superhero ready to take on the big bad alone. The next chapter directly contradicts what it had already demonstrated. But why? Because you shouldn't trust either the author or the way the characters present themselves to you. That's what this whole chapter is about.
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What matters to you may not necessarily matter to the characters. Our focus on the first page would be on Asa's missing arm. Yet she brushes it aside, as if she were dismissing our concerns with a wave of the hand: what's important to her, strangely enough, is wearing her uniform!
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Which raises another question... have you seen much of Asa without her uniform? Yes, we've seen her without it, but more often than not, it's her fetish outfit for readers.
I could tell you that, once again, this is to emphasize the fact that we don't have the same temporality on the characters, and that Fujimoto insists more and more on what he refuses to show, but I'll be accused of over-interpreting, so let's carry on.
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Fami's statement that appearing to be a high-school student is the best cover for me immediately brings to mind a specific public hunter, who also appears always dressed in his uniform! But people will tell me that I'm being too defensive of this character, so.... Let's continue even further
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Asa manages to turn the guns on those who were going to shoot them, all by imagining that she had been able to redeem them.
It's precisely because she's disconnected from reality that she's able to create the illusion that her power works
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And I repeat: disconnecting from the events we see in Chainsaw Man helps us too.
Asa is able to create weapons without even needing to touch them, i.e. to touch the concrete, the agent who watches over them is right to recognize her but wrong in believing she's there to help the church members in the basement, when in fact she's there for Chainsaw Man. It's normal for him to think that!
Because that's how she was presented on TV!
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Which shows what? That you can't trust everything you see
Just before, we had a focus on Asa's legs, particularly through her walking, the fact that she's almost running
Let's interpret this in reverse again. Did you see Fami's hands? Yes, we see them, but never up close and never open.
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What was important was obscured by the fact that, at the end, it was noted that she did have something in her hands, but the chapter focused on Asa's legs, even though she had slipped.
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Pay no attention to what was emphasized to guess what happens next
In the title, I'm talking about Fami's right ear, because she is abnormally shown on the same side throughout the chapter.
Because it's hiding an earpiece? I'd have liked to, but I don't think so. As someone pointed out in the previous post: you can still see her ear on page 2.
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The point is not to think that Fami is tilting her head to hide something in her ear, but why is she shown so much the same way?
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The fact that she's bent over reminded me of chapter 140, when Denji visits the CSM church for the first time. At the end of that chapter, Barem presents an ultimatum: which side is heavier? Chainsaw Man represented by that cable on Denji's torso or his peaceful life with his family?
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The chapter 140 is called "Scales", evoking the weighing of these two choices, and Fami, who is supposed to represent the church, is already tipped over.
Why? Because the choice has already been made
Denji chose to be Chainsaw Man, but when he realized it, he was faced with the fire in which he lost his cat and dogs.
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When he transformed, he found himself endangering his little sister Nayuta
The scales tipped in Chainsaw Man's favor, to the detriment of his family.
The way Fami was always presented on the same side was to make it clear which way his head was tilting : to the left.
Okay, but how do you explain Fami's head being tilted the other way in other earlier chapters? It's normal, Denji's choice is very recent! He hesitated until now!
All this makes even more sense with her Chainsaw Man earrings, which represent cables.
And then you'll tell me "it would work if she had a cable earring on the same ear, but it's safe on both ears so it doesn't work", yes it does, trust us, we'll carry on.
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When does Asa fall in part 2? Often when death is near, almost like a bad omen announcing it. She falls crushing Bucky, she falls with Yuko who later dies prematurely, she almost falls when her mother sacrifices herself...
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So death is near.
And two things can explain it :
Fami is bent over to symbolize the fact that Chainsaw Man has been chosen over his peaceful life.
The chapter again emphasizes that Asa can save Chainsaw Man by attacking Chainsaw Man, because Chainsaw Man prevents Denji from having access to his peaceful life, hence the fact that Fami is bent over.
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But let's think about it another way: in chapter 155, Denji emphasized the fact that he didn't know what a family was, having committed patricide, how could he possibly understand this notion?
Denji killed his father, his brother, his sister died for him...
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So Chainsaw Man has always put his family at risk, which seems logical given everything we've said.
But remember that in this same chapter, we found an answer: Chainsaw Man is an empty shell filled with the people he loves, his family, and his aim is to protect them.
When Denji says he wants to be Chainsaw Man, it's to protect his family, who fill him as an empty shell.
When Fami says we must kill Chainsaw Man to save him, she's right.
Maybe not because there are 2 Chainsaw Man, since Pochita and Denji are inseparable.
But because to protect what has filled Chainsaw Man's heart, you have to kill the source of his misfortune, himself.
And that's why it all works, even if Fami's two earrings are cables, because even killing Chainsaw Man, the empty shell, saves what filled it - his family.
That's why Asa falls, because the end and Denji's sacrifice are close at hand.
But second interpretation.
Remember, when Asa falls, it means that death is near. So.................. who's next to her?
Obviously, this is pure theory, but I find it amusing.
Why does Fami only show one side? Because she didn't present herself well.
If Fami has insisted on anything from the start, it's that we call it Fami, not Famine. Why is that? Because she renamed herself just as quickly as Yoru did, choosing a name that hid her true identity.
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Remember how Yoshida told her she was terrible at choosing names, to which Fami retorted that she didn't care if anyone found out who she was?
Is that really the case? Wasn't it to reinforce the fact that she was supposedly the devil of famine?
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The first time Fami appears, in Asa's school, she introduces herself as the war devil's big sister (= true), which she does again at the aquarium, introducing herself as the famine demon (= false), called Fami (= true).
But as we've seen, you can lie about a devil's name, just as Fami did with the fire demon, presenting him as the devil of justice.
So what's to stop her from lying about the fear she represents too?
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I know it sounds crazy, but what happened when the devil of eternity appeared? People were hungry!
And the first time Fami didn't intervene, the more time passed, the more the hunger grew, the stronger the demon seemed to become.
What's to stop the devil of eternity being the devil of famine?
You : "it's a tactic for Fami to use the power of the demon of eternity to starve them out". Yes it's true! But my theory about the wrong choice of devil names is possible too. The trick is not to say that what's been presented to us doesn't work, but to try and question it.
The famine devil falsely called the devil of eternity could be defeated by Denji twice: in part 1, because he had overcome the famine by becoming a public hunter
In part 2, because he fed Asa!
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If Fami has insisted on anything from the start, it's that we call her Fami, not Famine. Why is that? Because she renamed herself just as quickly as Yoru did, choosing a name that hid her true identity : the Death Devil.
So, since the answers lie in what we can't see, what's stopping Fami from tripping Asa?
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Which explains Asa's shocked face.
But above all, it implies that his fall was not an unintentional one, as it always is when death is near, but that it was caused by death.
So if we line up the interpretations: death doesn't want mankind to disappear.
How do I know this?
Because she said so! She loves pizzas.
Death wants to kill Chainsaw Man to remain the sole end of beings. To stop it, all you have to do is eat her.
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shegatsby · 5 months
Note
Could I ask for Hannibal lecter with a former patient reader with extreme anxiety and fear of going outside and people? Maybe a house call for this little recluse?
(Would appreciate if they were also FTM but not a requirement)
Thanks!
-B
A/N; Hi B, thanks for the request even though it had been weeks since you sent it to me... oops. I hope you'll like it. Enjoy!
Warnings; Anxiety and panic attack, reader has phobia of going outside.
You were triggered again, you had a specific nightmare last night. In the nightmare you were being chased by your stalker (you had a stalker last year so developed a certain anxiety about going out. Thankfully he is behind bars now.) in the nightmare he was holding a gun and chasing you in the public but no one helped you. Except him.  Doctor Hannibal Lecter. Due to your circumstance you sought professional help. You did a profound research about him and his techniques and you found nothing but good review. You decided to give it a shot and you didn’t regret it at all. You explained your situation to him in detail via email, he replied saying that he was glad to work with such an open minded and communicative young woman.
He urged you to go to his office for the first session but you were unwilling so you suggested to do it online, it was 45 minutes and when you were, put the laptop away… you felt a sudden relief.
The next session he suggested to go to a coffee shop near your home, you liked the idea and agreed.
It was a cold Baltimore weather so you both had gloves, long coats, he couldn’t help but notice how professional you dressed. A black pencil skirt, a dark red blouse, soft make-up, hair let loose yet kept under control and delicate hands holding your coffee mug. You were well mannered and put together. Also, your impression on him was the same as him, both of you had a mutual feeling for each other that day. Normally, Dr. Lecter had 45 minute sessions with his patients just like your first session. However, with you, it was more than 2 hours. The conversation was elite and brilliant that he didn’t want to leave that cozy place, after the session he gave you a lift and planned the next session.
Weeks passed and you started to go to his office, you had an idea about his environment but seeing it for the first time was something else. His office was like a mixture of library and museum, which both of those places were your favorite. When he saw the inquisitive shine in your eyes he let you explore.
You talked about your favorite books and art and culture etc.
You loved talking to him and he loved talking to you. Most of his patients were shallow and stupid but you knew your art and literature. After decades of being surrounded by peasants Hannibal found someone who got excited about small things and had her own brilliant opinions. Your energy was refreshing to say the least.
The nightmare you had made you paranoid, your door was locked, windows shot and curtains closed, you were in your pjs and in 45 minutes you had to be in Dr. Lecter’s office. It was impossible, you sent him an email about bot being able to make it today. Instead of replying by an email he called you directly, ‘’Hello, Dr. Lecter.’’
‘’Hello , Y/N.’’ he started, he had started to address you by your name few weeks ago and asked you to do the same but his demeanor and the way he held himself made you a bit intimidated. ‘’I hope you are well.’’ He continued, ‘’Is there a problem?’’ there was a silence. ‘’Yes, I don’t think I can come today.’’ You simply replied, covering yourself with blankets on your couch, total darkness surrounding you.
‘’Your voice sounds strange.’’ He announced, you didn’t say anything and he let a sigh of distress, He ‘’I’m coming over. Do not move.’’ And he hung up.
He knew your address, something in you kept you at your place or maybe it was his strict tone.
Some time later there was a knock on your door which made you jump from your seat, you grabbed a knife from the kitchen and walked to the door.
‘’Its me.’’ You heard his voice, ‘’You can lower your weapon of choice.’’ He added, how did he know that you were carrying a weapon?
You opened the door to him, he looked at you up and down and let himself in, closed the door and locked it. Seeing such a young and elegant woman being torn apart by her mental state made him feel something… he felt as if he was her savior.
You noticed that the second you saw him you felt safe, like a sense of warmness spreading inside of your chest.
You turned to go to the living room, he followed, this was the first time he saw your house, he was in awe of how clean and organized it was even though it was dark due to the fact that all the curtains were closed.
He sat on a single armchair, placed his leather bag next to his feet, his coat placed on his lap, you took your place among your blankets.
‘’May I ask what has made you… like this?’’ he looked around the room, ‘’I don’t want to talk about it.’’ You said like a little child.
‘’Are you hungry?’’ he asked to change the subject, you realized that you didn’t eat anything since you have woken up. He understood from your deep eyes and stood up.
Soon you heard sounds coming from the kitchen. You decided to get a sneak peek, he wore your red apron and cooking something from the things he found in your fridge. It melt your heart.
Hannibal Lecter wasn’t used to this but when he saw you like that he couldn’t help but be there for you, you were an interesting case for him and he even thought about keeping your mental health not worse but not good either so that he could keep having you in his life but it seemed like you were planning to be in his life for a long time weather as a friend, a patient or someone close..
Thank you. :)
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respectthepetty · 2 months
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Pit Babe Colors Ep. 9
I'm challenging myself with this show and seeing how good my color skills really are, so I'm doing my normal thing of watching it double-speed on mute, but now, the captions are off also. It's just colors and vibes here. Also, I know way more than I intended because of comments and reblogs on previous posts, so I'm in the know now.
A Black Brooder and a (once fake) Blue Boy sit in a car probably declaring for the millionth time that they love each other while MY RED RASCAL IS STILL BEING HELD HOSTAGE!
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Charlie and the Omegaverse Factory (except Jeffrey WHO IS STILL MISSING!)
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"Don't be suspicious. Don't be suspicious."
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This came up earlier but do they all live together and I missed that somewhere? They all have different houses, so why is Charles putting his hands on Alan now? Did he trick them to all live together so he can steal their powers easier? Does Alan even have powers? Do Northwest Kardashian and Sonic Drive-In have powers? So many questions! Don't tell me the answers. The chaos and confusion adds to the fun.
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Why are you back at the reds alone, Barbara?!
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Pete is a GOOD MAN. This situation looks gross as fuck, but he is wearing blue, so I already know my man is there for good reasons.
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The truth is being revealed. They are in the light instead of the dark, and the blue is backing my man, so as the colors stated: Pete is a GOOD MAN! How? I don't know, but the colors don't lie.
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Record scratch! Where did the red go?! That was the same way Barbara entered the reds house, and now the red is gone. *whispers* It's because Waymond is the red like episode three told us.
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Whatever Waymond is saying is a lie. The red is surrounding Barbie! It's still there! YOU AREN'T SAFE, BARBIE!
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BARBIE!
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Waymond Brutus Fitzgerald, you don't have to do this. The blue is *right there* ho-migo. You can be a good guy. You don't have to be a red. Oh, God, no. WAYMOND, NO!
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Nah. You had a choice, Waymond. You could have been blue like Pete, lying Charles, and (still-kidnapped?) Jeffery, but you picked this bullshit. I'm so mad at you. You don't deserve Peter. And Kimberly is the only red I respect.
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We finally got a light (white-colored) Barbie, but at what cost?
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Kentana, let me recap your fuck ups: you captured Jeffrey, you watched Kimberly get beat up, you conspired with Decanus to mess up Barbie's car, and now you are just standing there. I support queer wrongs, but you have yet to prove the "queer" part which is super important, so right now, you are just WRONG, and I can't support that. Kiss a man or sacrifice yourself because you are pissing me all the way off.
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Northwest and Sonita are wearing more blue, but what the hell is up with that red around your neck Northwest?! I canNOT trust these two.
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Nice to know your time being held hostage by the reds convinced you to commit to the blue, Jeffrey. By fucking time, sir.
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Oh, Jeffrey seeing thangs! Decanus is bad. We been knowing that. But is that . . . Alan on the floor?! It has to be since the visions came after Jeffrey touched Alan. Oh no no. Wait, is that BARBIE?! They are the only two who wear tanks!
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Kentana better be finally committing QUEER wrongs.
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Nothing is going to happen to Charles. Color-coded boys in love get happy endings. But this was bound to happen once Barbara took off his glasses. Accidents happen when people who need glasses don't wear them. Next.
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Jeffrey, why are you at the kids table? Are you turning bad. AGAIN!
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Who is holding the gun? Does Big Red have a bracelet like that? Why do y'all keep walking back into this damn house like y'all won't die! *whispers* because they won't
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Big Red uses swords not guns?
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I know it was Way being punched by Barbie earlier, but is this Whiny Winifred?! Let that be a win for us! Because that better not be Kimberly. It. Better. Not. Be. But secret third option: Waymond since he has been the red in hiding.
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The red is still around you two newly-reformed Blue Boys. The danger is always there.
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Wait! Jeffrey! No! You committed to the blue! Is this why you were surrounded by red?! You were going to go back! WHY?! ALAN LOVES YOU!
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Vegas' Hedgehog, why are you wearing orange?! Is your superpower to annoy me? At least Northwest loves you. Are y'all discussing Jeffrey going back to Big Red?! Nah. Alan is too calm. AND DECANUS IS THERE?! I thought he left the team after that race?! Jeffrey will not be pleased with this hug unless Jeffrey really is back to being red. Wait! Is Dean back because Jeffrey told Big Red to send him back! Urgh! For everyone to be a secret red, y'all trust way too many folks. I hate when the plot isn't plotting the way I thought it was plotted.
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Even the product placement must fit into the blue vs. red theme. Good!
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SONIC, YOU MOTHERF*CKER! I SWEAR TO GOD!
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Oh! Charles' spidey sense is tingling. Does that mean danger is near? No! It means you two are going to have sex. AGAIN! Kimberly is dying, but continue with your light vs. dark dynamic. Glad to see you back to your dark ways, Barbara.
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Well, at least Whiny Winifred has one win under his belt for the reds before he (hopefully) bleeds red aka DIES!
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I hit my picture limit, but next week, Dean is bad (Pikachu face), Waymond gets his ass beat, as he should, and the show is really trying to make us believe Barbara or Charles are going to get into a serious crash which AIN'T happening because they have superpowers and are color coded, so . . . they'll be fine. Oh, and Sonic Boom Boom is wearing blue again just to irritate me before he wears coral or some shit, but all I care about is
WHERE IS KIM POSSIBLE?!
When Kimberlina gets free, because he WILL get free, he needs to run so far away from these people. He better not join the blue racing team. They are too busy being fake and having sex. Kimbers, you deserve better than this.
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smileydk · 5 months
Text
Ace of Spades
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Pairing: Criminal!Seonghwa x PoliceCaptain!Reader
Summary: Kim Jiwoo, a rookie Police Captain, is handed a case about “Ace of Spades”. Park Seonghwa. He’s a wanted criminal in the whole country and now it's Jiwoo's task to bring him in, but it doesn't go as planned. Instead she realizes how ridicolously good looking the dangerous man is. And she can't see how one man could possibly be that dangerous, or terrifying.
cw/tw: Guns, violence, harsh language, sexual jokes, might be more
Not proof read
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- Ace of Spades: It is a symbol of power, authority and also death
As Jiwoo pulled up to the town square and spotted the man. He was clad in a black suit accented with gold details. He almost looked like a pirate, except the clown make up and the mad-man smile on his red lips.
Jiwoo got out of the car, sighing to herself as the other cop cars had left before they could even reach the town square. ''Greatest police force in the country they said''
She was mumbling to himself abou her force bing wusses as she approached the man with caution in her steps. She was sure he knew she was there.
He did.
Seonghwa cracked his neck loudly before he turned towards the woman. His mad smile grew even wider as he spotted her. ''Kim Jiwoo! I've heard a lot about you!''
''Only bad I hope'' She mumbled.
''Of course! I'm Park Seonghwa! Or you might know me as the "Ace of Spades". I shall greet you welcome to the force!''
Jiwoo chuckled to herself. At this exact moment the man seemed quite harmless. ''So you're the man the whole country fear? The one who scared of my entire force? I really can't see how a single man could be thar terrifying''
The man kept the psychotic smirk as a deep chuckle left his lips. ''Well, dollface, you'd be surprised what a single man could accomplish with the right motivation''
''Well, might not use the word pleasure, but it is an honor to meet the legendary "Ace of Spades", the one who makes my life a living hell through my superior officer. Now, what have you been up to?''
Seonghwa was intrigued by the woman. He'd never seen someone this confident around him.
He approached the girl and grabbed her jaw in a firm grip. He tilted her head from side to side as if he was inspecting her face. As if she was a porcelain doll covered in a speck of dust.
''Well aren't you a brave one?'' Seonghwa asked out loud as he was done with his inspection.
Jiwoo didn't reply. She didn't know how to reply to that statement. She felt like no matter how she replied she'd piss of the man.
Seonghwa wasn't really expecting an answer. He was mostly talking to himself. Something he did often. Well, mostly the voices in his head, not exactly himself.
''You are absolutely fucking gorgeous, have anyone ever told you that?'' He asked her as he ran his thumb across her cheekbone
''A few disturbing men, why?''
''Well, you should have someone in your life who always tells you how gorgeous you are, especially with a body like that'' He leaned even closer, eyeing her up and down.
Jiwoo was almost convinced he was gonna kiss her right there, at the town square in front of all the scared civlians.
She was surprised when he didn't. Instead he poked his tongue out and licked her face. Out of relfex, which most people would proabbly deem normal, she slapped the man with all the power she had.
''Goddamn'' Seonghwa hissed as he pulled back from the woman. She knew how to slap. ''You are one ballsy woman!''
Jiwoo continued staring into the man's eyes. ''If you let my face go now, and you walk away, I'm not gonna take you in in cuffs''
''And what if I like handcuffs?'' Seonghwa continued smirking. He knew he was kinky, but he wanted it to come out like that.
Jiwoo had come to the conclusion that, if he liked it, he wouldn't mind, and if he didn't like it, he would've walked away. Which is how Seonghwa found himsel sitting in a place he'd never been seated before. The backseat of a cop car with his hands folded neatly in his lap. He'd only driven them before, after stealing them that is.
As they reached the station she pulled him inside, without much struggle, she earned more than look as she led the the country's most wanted criminal into the station.
''Hey!'' Seonghwa snapped. He raised his hand and pointed a knife at each and single one of them. He had gotten out of his cuffs the moment Jiwoo put him in the car. ''If you don't stop staring, I might have to cut up all of you! Wouldn't like to look like the joker, would ya?''
He approached one of them, Wooyoung, and grabbed his jaw in a firm grip. He held the knife close to the right corner of the poor officer's mouth.
Wooyoung, who was known for being a bold man and always talking back, sat frozen in his chair. Jiwoo wasn't even sure he was breathing.
Jiwoo let out a sigh. ''Seonghwa, you're in a police station, the second you hurt someone they can, by law, fire their weapons at you''
Seonghwa's grip on Wooyung's jaw only tightened, but the knife dropped to the floor. ''Fine, but if you repeat this, I promsie you, something will happen''
Jiwoo grabbed his arm and dragged them towards their holding cells. As she shoved him inside the cell, the other perps were quick to press up against the wall in terror.
Seonghwa sat down in the middle of the room, on the floor, and took out a pen. As he took out the pen the perps pressed even harder against the wall.
He was enjoying the terror he put in other people.
''If your plan is to kill someone with that pen, please give it to me now''
''Look, I'm not planning on it, but even if I was planning it, do you really think I'd tell you?''
''Whatever, do you want a paper?''
Seonghwa nodded and smiled, this time not one of his psychotic, demon smiles, but a softer one.
The woman couldn't believe how a man could have such duality. One moment he's threatening to cut you up like the joker, and the other moment he's sitting on the floor, doodling away like a three year old.
As Jiwoo sat back down by her desk Wooyoung approached his superior officer. ''Look, don't get me wrong Jiwoo, respect for getting Seonghwa, but don't you think it's a bit weird he stayed even though he wasn't cuffed. He must have something planned''
''I know, but let's give him the benefit of a doubt. Or just shove the other perps into the hearing rooms if you think he's gonna kill them. They're too dumb to escape, but I don't trust Seonghwa in there as he could escape. Hell, he could escape now as well, despite eight armed officers watching over him''
Wooyoung nodded. ''I guess...'' He sat back down by his desk and threw his legs up on it.
Jiwoo kept her eyes on the holding cell, where Seonghwa was still sitting peacefully, drawing on his paper and twirling the pen between his fingers every now and then.
''How is he the most feared man in Korea?''
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48 hours passed, which meant they couldn't hold the man longer without proof or a hearing. And they had no solid proof. All they had were his tag "Ace of Spades" and he would never admit to that on tape.
''Come on Seonghwa, either you help us out here, or you've gotta leave. We have to fill the cell with other perps and they're all terrified of you'' She motioned to the other perps who'd been pressed up against the wall for the past two days.
''What do I have to do for you to give me something? Please~ give me anything!'' Jiwoo whined. She'd given up on her cool after the first 36 hours.
''Make out with me'' He stated simply, not lifting his gaze from his doodling paper.
Jiwoo couldn't believe she was even considering the offer. Making out with the most wanted man for something he might not even tell her afterwards? ''No! Nuh-uh''
''You hesitated, Princess''
And so the days kept passing and Seonghwa would not budge. They had to get creative about where they put the perps.
Some were shoved into the hearing rooms, which didn't work out in the long run since they needed those for... well hearings.
Some were simply cuffed to nearest surface and the guys hoped they wouldn't escape.
Jiwoo was getting tired of having to come up with different ideas of where to keep the perps, so she took it upon herself to throw the man out so their holding cell could be used.
She walked into the holding cell. ''Guys, take the other perps and store them... somewhere. I just need 10 minutes''
Hongjoong nodded and stood up, as well as the rest of the men, and walked over to the cell to escort the perps into different hearing roooms, with each other.
As Jiwoo entered the holding cell she closed and locked it behind her. She sat down opposite of Seonghwa.
''Can you either help us, or just... leave?''
''But if I leave I can't see your pretty face everyday, Princess'' He finally lifted his gaze from his painting.
Jiwoo took a peek at it. Her eyes widened. It was a picture of herself and Seonghwa... doing unthinkable things. ''You've got some talent, but eh... why in the world am I on the picture?''
''You're hot'' Seonghwa replied without stuttering.
Then again, he was probably used to saying anything he wanted and no one batted an eye.
''You're crazy'' Jiwoo mumbled quietly to herself.
The man's head snapped up in almost inhumane pace. ''Crazy you say?'' The psychotic smile was back on his lips. ''Say, I've been called lots of things, but crazy isn't one of them'' He stood up and started pacing as well as insepcting the cell. ''See I'm a bit hurt you call me crazy, Princess. I was starting to like you''
''I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt your feelings, but to be fair, you're wanted for basically everything you can be wanted for''
Seonghwa chuckled. ''Fine, I'll leave, but we'll meet again soon. I can promise you that''
''I doubt it''
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Jiwoo was walking home after a long shift. The clock was two in the morning and it was pitch black outside. The sun would be up in a few hours, due to summer time. The only light she was given came from the street lights, which were almost ten meters apart.
She was thanking the weather for being on the warmer side since she was clad in a crop-top and a pair of jeanshorts.
An attire that had made her whole department laugh since she'd never showed up in such clothing. Or to quote Wooyoung "I didn't know you had the ability to look like a female human being"
She wasn't worried. She had her gun on her, and she'd never been scared of the dark. But something was irking her. She didn't like it one bit.
What Seonghwa said to her a month ago, actually got to her.
She wasn't necessarily scared of the man. He had never given her a reason to be scared of him. Well, depends on how you wanna interpreter the whole thing, he had given her several reasons to terrify him, but she always wanted to give people a second chanve, and believe in the good in people.
But she was worried about what he could accomplish, since she had after all heard stories about him.
She stopped as she spotted a silhouette standing under the next lamp.
''The chances of it being Seonghwa is small'' She mumbled to herself.
She didn't know if she wanted to reassure herself or if she was just praying that it wasn't him.
Since the light came from above she couldn't see his face, or any form of detail that could reveal the person's identity.
As she got closer the silhouette started chuckling. Jiwoo cursed herself. She recongized his chuckle.
''Well Princess, didn't I promise we were gonna meet again?'' He stood up straight and walked the last few feet, since Jiwoo was frozen in shock. ''Aren't you happy to see me, Princess?'' He gently grabbed her jaw and tilted it upwards.
''I- uhm... no?'' Jiwoo felt intrigued by him.
''Lie. You know what we do with liars?'' Seonghwa's smirk grew. ''We punish them'' Seonghwa grabbed her arm and pulled her towards a car. ''Scream and someone innocent dies''
Jiwoo cursed herself in her head but allowed the man to pull her towards a random car, which he decided was now his.
What she said previously was out the window. She was starting to grow scared of the man. He was unpredicatble.
Seonghwa stomped on the gas and drove towards his mansion. Yes, mansion.
''We've got an hour to kill, ask me anything. I know you're curious''
''Well... cheesy, but your origin story? Why?''
''Well, I think you know my family. My father Park Baekhyon, asshole for that matter. He's most of the reason. Abusive, alcoholic, manipulative, did as wished because he was rich''
Jiwoo racked in her head for the name Park Baekhyon. She slowly realized who he was. ''You killed your own parents''
''I did. I'm not proud of it. But-''
''How could you kill your own father?'' Jiwoo exclaimed.
''You didn't know him as I did!'' Seonghwa shouted and gripped the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles were turning white. Jiwoo thought he was break it. ''He would rape young boys! He would bring home my friends and he would lure them into his study. Something happened behind those doors and then I would never see my friends again! I only know because he got drunk one evening and bragged about it! And when those boys couldn't satisfy his needs he turned to mom and me!''
Jiwoo's eyes softened. No, it didn't justify the face that he was a murderer or the fact that he murdered his own parents, but him being messed up might have something to do with his messed up childhood.
''I would call the police, but as everyone adored my father and knew nothing about what happened behind closed doors, they would dismiss it as some rich kid around abusing his power, or just just asking for attention! No one ever believed me when I said I was in trouble!''
The car fell silent. The rest of the hour long drive was quiet. Jiwoo was processing everything Seonghwa had told her and Seonghwa was slowly regretting that he told the girl his whole lifestory.
As they reached Seonghwa's mansion Jiwoo's jaw fell open. ''Goddamn''
''Close that pretty mouth of yours'' He tapped her chin and led her inside.
''Look, your sad childhood is, most likely, the root of your hell-like life, and it oesn't excuse your behvaiour, but I get it. No one ever showed you love''
Seonghwa stopped walking and turned around. ''I don't like how you read me like an open book. If you're trying to tell me I've got daddy issues, fuck you. But you're right, no one ever showed me any love and I've been just fine without it! I don't need you, Ms. Police Captain to come around and act all sweet and pretend to give me the love you decided I need''
The woman sighed to herself. She was gonna regret everything she was about to do.
She walked up to the tall man and wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head on his chest. She thought that despite his cold and rough aura, he needed some love.
Everyone needs love, but especially those who've never received it.
The man froze. He was confused. ''W-w-what are you doing?'' All his hard work at building up walls around himself faltered in a second. This woman did what no one else had ever accomplished.
And he hated it!
''I'm hugging you''
''Why? I don't deserve that- I don't-''
''Everyone deserves love. Everyone needs love. Even the most cold hearted people in the world needs love'' She mumbled and kept her arms wrapped around the man.
Seonghwa didn't move from his frozen state. He had never gottan a hug from anyone. Hell, he'd never even gotten a slap on the back, or heard anyone tell him he did a good job.
As Jiwoo pulled away she smiled. ''Everyone-'' Before Jiwoo could start talking Seonghwa had stormed off into a random room.
He had never showed his feelings, he never had to, so now that the woman managed to get his feelings to spill out, he didn't know what to do.
Jiwoo sighed and started walking through the hallways to find the man.
''Why does one lonely man need 200 bedrooms?'' Jiwoo asked herself as she opened another door.
''Empty''
She opened the last door in the hallway, which was a double door. As she threw the doors opened she was met with the man she was looking for.
He was sitting on the floor, something Jiwoo realized was a habit of his, with a big knife in his hand. He was twirling it between his fingers, occasionally throwing it up in the air and catching it.
As Jiwoo opened the door, said knife came flying towards her head. It stuck to the door, less than an inch from her face, but despite the closeness she didn't flinch.
She simply removed the knife and took a closer look at it. ''Nice knife'' She threw it back to Seonghwa. She walked over to the man and sat down in front of him. ''Look, I know you’re not used to… emotions. So I’m sorry that I just… emotion-vomited on you''
Seonghwa didn’t say anything. He simply raised his gaze and deadpanned the woman.
''I can be your therapist! Tell me all your problems''
Jiwoo knew it was weird for a police officer to be nice to a criminal, it was weird for her to even be this nice to a criminal. But she felt like he needed it.
Seonghwa swiftly raised his knife to Jiwoo’s throat and his gaze was ice cold. ''I don’t care if your job is to make me a better a person, I don’t care if your intention is to make me less of a criminal, or however you want to word it, I won’t tell you shit. Are you gonna get a promotion if you do this?''
Once again she didn’t flinch. She gently laid her hand on Seonghwa’s and lowered it. She carefully took the knife from his hands, all while keeping eye contact with the man.
Seonghwa’s gaze softened as he realized she wasn’t scared of him. She wasn’t gonna let this go anytime soon. No one had ever put in this much effort for anything that was about him.
Jiwoo grabbed his other hand and just held his cold hands in her warm ones.
''Look, I know you’ve never heard this before, and I know it’s weird especially when it’s coming from a Police Captain, but I’m here if you need something''
The man didn’t know what to do.
His heart was thumping loudly in his ears. Her hands holding his gave him a tingling sensation. Her sweet, gentle smile made him wanna smile.
''Why is my heart thumping so hard? And fast? And why does my skin tingle whenever you touch me? And why do I wanna smile when you smile?'' Seonghwa rambled his questions out loud.
Jiwoo chuckled at his ramble. How would such a notorious criminal be so adorable.
''Your heart is thumping hard and fast because you’re excited, or when you’re in love. Your skin is either tingling because you’re in love with me or because your allergic to me, and smiles are infectious''
Seonghwa’s eyes widened as he came to a realization. He was in love with the woman in front of him.
''I’m kidding. I have no idea why all that is happening to you'' Jiwoo smiled.
Deposited the woman joking, he was quite sure he was in love with her.
''I think I like you… more than I’d like to admit''
The woman froze. He couldn’t. It was like a poor version of Romeo and Juliette.
''Well, I don’t know if I can say the same right at this moment-''
''I knew it! No one could ever love me! You lied to me!''
Seonghwa swiftly pulled out a gun and pressed it to Jiwoo’s forehead.
The cold metal pressing against her forehead would turn anyone into a frantic mess, but Jiwoo was surprisingly calm. She trusted him.
Which could be stupid, but she listened to her gut feeling.
It almost annoyed Seonghwa that he couldn’t terrify her. He always put fear in people without even trying! He could walk down the street to get a cup of coffee and people would disappear faster than one could count to three.
But why wasn’t this woman scared of him?
She was more scared of his feelings than she was of a gun, pressed against her forehead by the most notorious criminal Korea’d ever seen.
And why couldn’t he hurt her? He’d never had a problem with killing, torturing, kidnapping and so on.
But this woman, something about this woman made him wanna remove all the evil in the world. He could never hurt her! He wanted to protect her from anything that could possibly be evil.
''I- I- I can’t do it! Why can’t I kill you? I’ve never had a problem with it before! What makes you special? You make me wanna quit the criminal life! You make me wanna remove all the evil in the world! I wanna protect you from anything that could possibly hurt you'' He threw the gun across the room in rage.
Jiwoo smiled. ''You are in love with me, Park Seonghwa. Whether you like it or not ''
''I don’t like it! You don’t like me back!'' Seonghwa exclaimed. He almost looked like a three year old throwing a temper tantrum.
''Look, it might be because I've only just met you, or the fact that you're wanted for basically every single thing you can be wanted for, but if I get to know you, the feelings might change'' She held his, cold, hands in her warm ones.
Jiwoo grabbed his arms and pulled at them. ''Come on, I saw a giant TV in one of your millions of rooms, you've gotta have some kind of games. Let's play''
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''For a police Officer your aim is really shitty'' Seonghwa chuckled as he won another match.
''It's a lot easier in real life'' Jiwoo mumbled and threw the controller on the couch. She threw it hard enough for it to bounce, and smack Seonghwa in the face. ''Oh my god, I am so sorry!''
Seonghwa glared at the woman. ''How dare you?''
Jiwoo tried her best to not laugh as Seonghwa glared at her. She couldn't really take him seriously. Why? She had no idea, he was terrifying when he glared at someone.
He grabbed her by the waist and pinned her down to the couch.
''I said I'm sorry'' Jiwoo mumbled as the mood changed within a second. ''What more do you want? Kiss it better? Where does it hurt?'' Jiwoo cooed in a judging way.
''I mean, that would be rather nice, wouldn't it?'' He leaned closer to her with a small smirk on his lips. ''My lips hurt, kiss them better?''
The woman didn't know what came over her, but she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his. Seonghwa smirked as her lips pressed against his.
As they deepened the kiss Seonghwa removed one of his hands to place it on Jiwoo's cheek, but instead he managed to fall off the couch with a small "Ouff"
Jiwoo sat up and looked down at the boy. She chuckled slightly before he grabbed her and pulled him down on top of him. A small "Ouff" left them both again. Jiwoo chuckled as she straddled his waist.
Seonghwa looked at her with adoring eyes. His hands laid on her thighs, on which his thumbs drew small circles. The woman didn't know what to do as he stared at her. She blushed and lowered her gaze, causing him to chuckle.
''Cute'' He mumbled before he allowed his hands to travel up her thighs, past her waist and under the hem of her shirt. Goosebumps grew on her skin as his fingertips did as they wished.
''What is your next plan?'' Jiwoo raised an eyebrow as she looked down at the man. She tried to not blush as he stared at her.
''As I said, you'd be surprised what a single man could accomplish with the right motivation'' He winked and sat up, face less than an inch from hers.
''What's your motivation right now?''
''You''
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girasollake · 2 years
Text
it must’ve slipped out | pt.2
pairing: ???steve harrington x fem!reader???
summary: follow up to the first part which you can read here
warnings: curse words, mentions of sex/insecurities/feeling like shit, kinda toxic relationship idk? mentions of damage to the body(?) idk what else to put there
type: angst
a/n: it is finally here after so many of you guys requested it! i won’t be doing a next part, this is the last one, but if you guys want to request something then do it!, i have 2 requests rn on my list and 3 works of my own that i want to write:) i hope you guys will enjoy this part and if you dont then well, im sorry<\3 hope yall are having a nice day/night! 🧡 oh and, the last sentence is purely for your own interpretation
word count: about 2k
part 1
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The whole group was walking towards the Wheeler’s house in hopes to get a hold of the guns which Nancy mentioned she had had in her room. Robin, Nancy and Steve were in the front, (Y/n) and Eddie slowly following them in the back.
“You seem off today.” Whispered Eddie leaning his head towards the girl.
“Huh? Oh. I don’t know why, maybe it’s because we’re in a different, much scarier dimension.” She smiled at him.
“Oh yeah, right. I forgot about that for a second.”
“Really? I can’t focus on anything besides this dust, or whatever it is. I keep inhaling it, nasty shit.” She coughed.
“Is everything okay between you and Harrington?” he asked quietly. “Sorry if that’s too straightforward.”
“Sure, why wouldn’t it be?” her gaze finding Steve. “We’re fine.”
“Yeah, I’m not buying that.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s the way you look at him. I have to admit you don’t even try to hide it very well.”
“I look at him… normally.” She sighed. “It’s just… never mind.”
“Did he do something stupid?”
“Yeah, you could say that…” she replied hesitantly.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“Um, I don’t think this is the time and place for that.” She replied quietly lowering her head at the same time. “He just… his actions make me feel insecure about myself”
“What? Well I don’t know the whole story and shit but I think you’re gorgeous if that means something to you. Don’t base your confidence on what other people think.” The girl chuckled quietly at his response. “And screw him if he makes you feel like that.”
“Thank you Eddie, that cheered me up a bit.”
“Always at your service.” He winked at her and smiled widely.
Suddenly something interrupted their conversation, the ground started shaking uncontrollably.
“I HATE EARTHQUAKES” (Y/n) heard Robin yell.
Everyone grabbed onto something except for (Y/n) who fell on the ground scraping her arms and knees, one wound would for sure turn into a scar later on. When all of it stopped she felt someone pulling her up.
“Shit, are you okay?” She locked eyes with Steve, his arm holding her waist.
“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine.” She replied.
In a moment others were quickly at her side.
“Can you walk?” (Y/n) heard Robin say.
“Yeah, I think so. I just have some scratches, that’s all.” She said smiling at her, Robin reciprocating the gesture. “We better get going before those nasty monsters find us again or even worse.”
“Yeah, I’m not taking part in another earthquake.” Robin mumbled and offered (Y/n) her arm to walk together.
After they got out of the forest Nancy saw her house in the distance. Luckily, they didn’t have to walk for much longer. When they reached her house she slowly unlocked the door and rushed upstairs, Robin and Eddie following her. (Y/n) was left with Steve, she really hoped to get out of this world as quick as possible, all of this negative energy was taking a toll on her.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Steve asked her approaching slowly.
No. I’m not.
“Yes, why wouldn’t I be?” she lifted the corner of her mouth.
“No reason.” He smiled. “Just worried about you”
Then (Y/n) heard something coming from the living room. She went past Steve to enter the room. Was that a voice?
“Dustin?” she whispered. “Steve come here!”
“What is it?”
“Just listen.” Both of them started slowly making circles around the room. “Do you hear it?”
“Is that Henderson? Holy shit. DUSTIN!” Their screams started filling up the house, the rest of their friends quickly running downstairs.
After they found a way to communicate with Dustin they decided to meet him and the others at the gate in Eddie’s trailer. Everyone got a bike from Nancy’s house, fortunately she had like six of them, maybe more. When they arrived at their destination they started getting out of this shit-hole. (Y/n) decided she wants to go first, Robin was quickly at her side to catch her if she slipped or something. She didn’t want any help but Steve insisted and pushed her upwards which made her feel even more insecure than before. It was just a nice gesture right? Wrong. For her it meant that he didn’t believe she could climb that rope on her own. She thought that if it was Nancy or Robin who went first he wouldn’t push up neither of them, because in his eyes they were capable of doing it on their own. When she fell onto the stained mattress she quickly got up to hide behind Max. She wondered why she had decided to go first. Tears started forming in her eyes because she felt like a failure. All of this was just too much for her. When everyone got out of the Upside Down they hid Eddie somewhere and all went over to their homes. However before (Y/n) left Robin quickly caught up to her.
“Hey um, I was wondering if maybe you’d like to have a girls night after all of this is over? I just thought both of us will need it.”
“Sure, I’d love that.” She smiled. ”Is um.. Nancy coming too?”
“I know how things are between you so um… she won’t be coming.”
“Thank you Robin. I’ll see you later!” She quickly hugged her and turned around to find Steve who insisted to go with her to her house.
He knew that her dad was out of town and her mom had a night shift that day, he had hoped to spend some time with her, alone.  She didn’t want him to go inside, but she gave up, as always. (Y/n) had to admit she needed his attention but sadly her mind was still occupied with the thoughts that he was imagining she was Nancy.
“Thank you for helping Nance back there.” He smiled at her when they entered the kitchen.
Of course, Nance again.
She just smiled at him and went on to make some tea for both of them.
“Is everything okay?”
“God, can you stop asking me that!?” she raised her voice which surprised the boy. “I am so fucking tired of this question. Of the constant feeling like a fucking burden Steve. When you ask that I feel as if I’m just in your way and that’s making me feel so miserable.”
“Baby, you know it’s not like that. I just worry about you a lot and I’m so sorry you feel that way.” He came closer to her and embraced her. Her body stiff against his. “Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?”
She snorted and then broke out of the hug to look him in the eyes.
“How about you start with saying my name instead of Nancy’s when we are having sex?” Her tone was cold, eyes staring into his with pain and anger.
“What are you talking about?” He chuckled in hopes to diffuse the tension between them.
“Was what I said not clear for you?” She then completely left his side to continue making her tea.
“Yeah it was clear, I just don’t understand where it came from?”
Pure confusion was written on Steve’s face. (Y/n) placed the kettle on the stove and turned it on. Then she turned around to face him, her hands gripping the kitchen countertop. She inhaled deeply to calm herself down, she was never the one to throw tantrums or fight with people.
“You said her name.” A small tear started to fall down her cheek which she quickly wiped away. “When we had sex, that night when your parents weren’t home.”
He just stared at her in disbelief.
“No, I couldn’t have said that.”
“Why do you think I left that night?” She paused for a second. “Oh and if you really think that my mom needed help with something, think twice.”
“Okay well if I really said it then I’m sorry. I don’t even know why I would do it.”
“Sorry won’t make this right Steve!” She raised her voice, she couldn’t keep her anger inside anymore, no matter how hard she tried. “I feel like I take up a second place in your life, that Nancy is still the person you hold closest to your heart. You said her name because you’re still not over her.”
“You know it’s not true.” He snorted.
“Well what if it is?” Her hand which was rested on her forehead started slowly sliding down her face. “I think that if we want to continue this…” Her pointed finger going back and forth between them. “…relationship or whatever you call it, you need to get over her. And for now I cannot see you doing that. Today you were so worried about her and I get it! Yeah she got hurt, but why didn’t you help her get on that stupid rope? You helped me because you think I’m not capable of that stuff and you feel sorry for me! I bet you are with me only because you feel pity for me!”
“Okay now you are just making shit up! You know it was never like that! I do NOT feel sorry for you! Why would you even think that? I love you!” He yelled.
“Love me? You love me and moan Nancy’s name, huh? You love me but you always look at her, you love me but you always go to her when she needs you, you love me and yet I constantly feel like you don’t.”
They both stood there in silence, warm tears now falling freely down (Y/n)’s face.
“I think we need a break.” She managed to say quietly.
“What? What the fuck?”
“You need to rethink what I mean to you, what Nancy means to you. I can’t be with you when you always make me feel like I’m the other woman.” She looked into his eyes and continued. “When you figure out your feelings, we’ll talk. We might even get back together. But right now you need space and I do too.”
Steve was angry and she could feel it, but he wasn’t the type to be mad at her, especially now when it was certain she was the victim in this situation. He started thinking about the last month and all the situations with Nance. Maybe (Y/n) was right? Maybe he really needed time to think all of this through?
“Okay.” He whispered. “I…I’m sorry. I’m sorry for being an idiot. And making you feel that way.”
“It’s okay.” She smiled and wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “Let me walk you out.”
He obeyed and followed the girl outside. She gave him a quick hug and went back inside without looking back. He stood there for some time just watching her house and thinking how did he screw this up so bad. In the meantime (Y/n) went to the kitchen in hopes to finally drink her tea and get her mind off of Steve. She thought that maybe they just aren’t made for each other. She also thought that no one will like her, she was surprised when she found out he had liked her in the first place and now it’s all gone.
Little did she know, she had already caught someone else’s eye.
taglist: @imleavingtonightt @r93339 (couldn’t tag) @stvrdustalexx @cursedandromedablack @ccosmic-illusion @onecrazydirectioner @luvwanda @tomskookie @sweetpickles3 (couldn’t tag) @alainabooks143 @subjecta13-thefangirl  @monosjoons @yunho-leeknow @ayyitsxme @eternallyvenus  @sweet-creature98
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cordyce · 1 year
Text
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(we are written) in the sand and in the stars
Neteyam x Reader
Fic Summary: Sullys stick together. That is something you have heard since the beginning. But when you are forced to uproot and leave your home, it is something you must learn to fully take to heart. You are not technically a Sully, but you fight like one. And that in turn is enough to be shielded like one as well. There is no choice but to openly accept that this family, these Na’vi, are your fortress. It is perhaps harder, though, to accept that Neteyam has seemingly appointed himself as your personal guard.
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༄ CHAPTER ONE: THE TURNING OF THE TIDE
Chapter Summary: It’s quite normal for you to find yourself in a position where you’re forced to rescue your siblings out of whatever trouble they seem to get themselves into. This time, though, the trouble they stumble in has your life uprooting right out from under you.
Next Chapter | Read on AO3
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Change is not always wished for.
Sometimes it just crashes in; ebbs and flows like the ocean waves as the tides attempt to conquer their never ending battle of easing against the grain. It does not give you much of a choice, does not care about your contentment in the moment, whether or not you are ready to embrace it. Fair amounts of times there is no warning, no siren to let you know of its approach.
It simply comes. And it uproots you from the comfort of where you find yourself to be planted. Your roots being forced out of the only soil that you know, that makes you who you are, that augments you.
And it plants you elsewhere.
Life on Pandora was the only life you knew, the only life you would ever know. You were born here, on the ship before the initial war happened. Apparently guns aren’t the only thing the human military doesn’t know how to keep to themselves, because you weren’t the only baby left behind either.
Growing up with Spider by your side as your off-the-record brother was a bit unorthodox, especially in the early years. You were older–by just a month, but you’d forever hang it over his head–and you felt that weight on you from the start. Which in turn might be where the guilt that settles so cooly in the bottom of your gut spawns from.
He has always been so curious, adventurous in his own right in a way that seemed to always tie him into trouble and get dragged down by it like a rope around the ankles. And you were always the one responsible for cutting him free, cleaning up his messes and tugging him back to reality when he would venture out too far in his escapades. The tether tying you two together was knotted and it reflected in how you felt the kinks tug at you like a bind on your wrist.
You were both human, exceptions that were allowed to run free in a fleeting sense among the Omaticaya clan and embrace it as you so chose. The Sully children were more accepting, more open to the thought of the two of you being there, than the rest of their people. You understood that–and you thought Spider did, too–but it was still so easy to selfishly question why you received such shunning looks as a child as you walked around their home.
Yet, it was comforting–to know you had someone who could really relate. Being orphaned in the same place really does wonders in bonding with one another. So maybe that’s why you felt so guilty, so contrite when it all went down.
You were still so young–just seven years old–when you started getting sick. The technology carried over by the scientists on Pandora was vast, sure, but it wasn’t like there was a research hospital planted there that could explain every medical outlier that occurred. So when they tried running tests, monitoring vitals and having trials with the different medicines they had on hand and nothing seemed to work, you came to mature conclusions at the brink of your childhood.
You were going to die, is what you had deduced. A month before your eighth birthday and your prognosis was due up by before then. And it was scary, of course, (the concept of dying is not an easy one to swallow, let alone for a seven year old) but you were more worried for Spider.
Leaving him there? Alone? As the only human child in all of Pandora when you yourself knew what it was like to feel like an oddly placed outcast? It hurt you, pained you, but even when you were bound to the confines of your bed you put on a brave face.
Because, after all, that’s what older siblings are supposed to do, is it not? Make sure their siblings never have to worry about anything? Make sure they think everything is okay?
It was then you learned the very dire lesson of what it meant to fake it until you make it. Smiling at Spider’s and Lo’ak’s absurd stories about whatever bind they had gotten themselves into this time and using your hand to cover up the blood you felt on the tip of your tongue as you laughed. Shielding him, protecting him, until the very last second.
But, as stated, the technology on Pandora was quite vast. And, while it was clear there was no human antidote that could cure you of whatever ailment was plaguing your body, there was a last stitch resort.
It was Kiri, who you heard propose it to Dr. Max.
To this day you think her origins are what give her such enlightenment about things, what opens her eyes to solutions of problems that always hold the best intentions and always seem to have ties to her soul. Even at such a young age. She’s connected to something, whether it be the pure humanity that Grace once held or something else, you’ve never been quite sure, but it has never failed to captivate you.
There was one singular unattributed Avatar that had been a sort of.. test.
Being the first abandoned baby left behind on Pandora in lieu of the resolution of war meant more opportunities. While the scientists knew full well how their prior Avatars maintained, there was a bit of a question in hindsight. Why not have one grow alongside you?
It seemed like more of a moral dilemma than it really was, but all you had to attribute was a sample of your DNA, which was really harmless enough. The Avatar would not be used–not while the driver was still young, at the very least–but it would be monitored, observed. They already knew how Avatars grew when being aided with rapid growth hormones during their flights from Earth, but this one would be left to run its natural course.
Unbothered, undisturbed, isolated from every outside force besides the scientists who were cleared to be in the room with its amnio tank, it grew freely. You had never seen it, never asked about it, because it was a touchy subject to address. After all, Spider didn’t have one, and while it seemed partially trivial to you (it’s not like you were going to be able to use it anyways), you could see how jilted it made him. So no one chose to bring it up into conversation.
That is, until you were dying. And suddenly Kiri’s seemingly innocent suggestion held more vital weight than anyone could ever imagine.
It took a bit to prepare and things like this tend to take some convincing. It was hard enough the first two times, bringing in one of the sky people for a consciousness transfer is never an easy subject to propose, understandably. But you were a special case. You were different; sick, innocent, familiar.
You were a dying child.
It wasn’t primarily easy but it was also easy enough convincing Mo’at to attempt the transfer when Jake carried you to her. You were frail, weak. It was clear your time was running out and running out fast, mere grains of sand away until your hourglass’s top half went empty. So it was set into motion accordingly.
After all, even if it was unsuccessful you were going to die anyway. It’s not like there was much to lose.
The night of your transfer was the first night you’d ever seen your Avatar. Looking over as Neytiri carried it, walking next to Jake as they took you to the Tree of Souls. Staring into a Na’vi-esque mirror is the best way your young mind could think to describe it. It looked like you, but it didn’t. It looked Na’vi, but it still had its flaws.
That was the last you saw of your Avatar before you were placed at the roots of the tree next to it. The feeling was strange, alien, as tendrils began to connect to you. You figured that was about accurate– alien. Though up until this point (and after) you realized that was how the Na’vi viewed all aspects of you.
Your last memory before you felt your consciousness slipping was the touch of each member of the Sully line pressing their palm to your temple. Jake, Neytiri, Neteyam, Lo’ak, all of their presences known to you. Spider wasn’t there, he was not permitted. And as your eyes fluttered shut and your consciousness regressed, you wondered what he was thinking about it all.
That was your last thought, before white light engulfed your mind.
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Fast Forward - Present Time
“We will need to run another raid as soon as possible,” Jake states, looking to where the three of you were flanking him on your ikrans. “Keep them on their toes. Back to back blows will be the most effective.”
“Yes,” Neytiri nods, “Continue to cut off supplies.”
“More patrols should take place. Son, I need smooth patrols. If you are not up for that–”
“I am,” Neteyam interjects instantly, and your gaze flickers to him as he does so. His expression is serious, promising. “There will be no more errors, sir. Smooth patrols only.”
You study him, cinch your brows as he makes this promise as if he’s the one who chooses to stray from the marks. You suppose you get it though, understand the duty he feels to attempt to bear the chastisement for his younger brother. Still, it seems a promise too faltering to keep.
As if he senses your thoughts on this, his eyes dart over his shoulder to you. A side eye as if asking you to not comment on it, not pipe up. You hadn’t planned to but now you have the urge to retort something just because. However, you don’t have the chance.
“Devil Dog? Devil Dog, this is Eagle Eye. Over.”
Lo’ak’s voice over the comm brings all of your attentions back to hand. If not for his randomness, then his tone came through wired enough to have you all focused.
“Eagle Eye, send your traffic,” Jake answers, fingers to the button at his throat.
“I got eyes on some guys. They look like Avatars, but they’re in full camo and carrying ARs. There’s six of them. Over.”
The change in the air is instant. Despite flying it feels stiff, like the four of you are suddenly suspended rather than gliding. Lo’ak’s news means there’s people on the island, which you’re all obviously well aware of. But it doesn’t just mean that. It means there are Avatars, and if he doesn’t recognize them then it’s very clear on who they belong to.
Jake doesn’t miss a beat. “What’s your pos? Over.”
“Uh..” A breath. “We’re at the old shack.”
His father stiffens on the back of his ikran and sends a tense look to his mate. “Who’s we?”
There’s a pause now, at this question. A short one, a slight hesitation. You feel a tingle at the tips of your ears that doesn’t sit well with you. There’s a touch of static, a falter, then the silence breaks.
“Me, Spider, Kiri.. and Tuk.”
You see Neytiri’s eyes widen. You watch as Jake’s jaw clenches. You take note of how Neteyam’s grip tightens ever so slightly. And you become fully aware of the feeling of your stomach dropping as if you’ve fallen off your ikran from the peaks of the mountains.
“Son, you listen to me very carefully,” Jake instructs, no waver in his tone. “Fall back right now. Do not make a sound. Get the hell out of there. Move. Copy?”
“Yes sir,” Lo’ak hits immediately. “Moving out.”
Neteyam shakes himself free first and sends a glance back at you before moving up and getting in line with his father.
“Dad! I know a quick way,” he affirms, then instantly banks a hard right to which the three of you follow close behind.
For a moment you wonder how he knows a short cut. It was forbidden by Jake and Neytiri (especially the former) to go anywhere near the old fight zone, for anyone. So how would Neteyam know a way? If not that he had already been? Had not already broken that rule?
The thought turns trifling immediately after you have it though, because the weight of the situation finally hits you. It’s not just your friends turned family down there, it’s your brother. Your mindless, idiotic, always getting himself into these absolutely stupid situations brother.
The shortcut suddenly seems far too long to be considered as such.
As soon as your squad lands, you’re all immediately sliding off the backs of your ikrans. Jake and Neytiri are gauging up and you find yourself stepping right along with them, Neteyam as well.
“No no no. Stay with the ikran.” Jake lifts a hand to the two of you, looking at Neteyam a bit more intensely as he gives his order.
“But Dad,” Neteyam butts in, taking another step forward. “I'm a warrior like you. I’m s’pposed to fight.”
“Neteyam.”
Jake hardens his gaze. “I’m not gonna say it again.”
Neytiri gives her son one last look then shoots one to you before the pair turns their backs and brings up their weapons. You bite the inside of your cheek, clench the handle of the knife at your waist.
“Yes sir,” Neteyam mumbles back obediently. He turns around himself and brushes past you to walk back next to his ikran.
You stare after their retreating forms for a moment. Staying behind and doing nothing does not sit well with you. Not to mention the building up of anxiety in your chest that has your fingers twitching and your ears wanting to press back against your skull. Whirling around, you stalk back to your ikran and pull your bow off of where it's cinched to its side.
“Where are you going?” Neteyam catches you by your wrist as you go to follow the path your clan leaders have just taken.
With a shake of your hand you loose his hold and fix him with a glare. “I am not going to stand by while they are out there alone.”
It’s raining, and a drop hits you on your cheek that feels strangely cold. The pattering of rain in the forest normally calms you, puts you at ease. But it is different this night. This night, you can hear the artificial animal calls Neytiri and Jake are voicing to signal to their children. This night, you are on edge as you wait for your family to be returned to safety.
This night, you hear a blaze of gunfire.
Both you and Neteyam snap your heads in the direction of the noise. You suck in a breath, harden your hold on your bow at the sounds of yelling and machinery going off. You’re taking a step forward instantly, but just as quickly you’re being shoved back from your path.
“Let me go, Neteyam!” You hiss, bare your teeth at him as he locks his hands on your upper arms and pushes your back against the tree.
“You stay here,” he jeers right back. “Stay here in case they come back. You do not stray.”
You shove against him, get your back a few inches from the bark. “I will not– ”
“Stay here!” He barks in a tone you know to be his future leader voice as he forces you back again. There’s a squeeze to your arms, reassuring but also pleading. The look in his eyes is one you can only describe as desperate. “Rutxe.” [ “Please.” ]
Neteyam has this sort of air about him that tends to command respect, compliance. So maybe that is what steels you as he retracts his grip and runs into the forest. You watch him for a moment, hand still on your bow before your eyes flicker to your surroundings. Surely the ikrans would warn you if they sensed any incoming danger that you had not, but as you draw up your bow you think it right to be better safe than sorry.
It’s painstaking, the waiting. You twitch and turn at every creak and crack you hear around you. Wondering when and who is going to be coming through those trees first, who will reach the brink of safety in order.
The gunfire continues and unfamiliar voices mixed with those you know all too well seem to get closer and closer. It’s like everything begins to heighten, increase and expand like walls closing in. There’s a snap to your left and you ready your bow, pointing it in the direction your ears lead you just in case.
But it is no foreigner. You drop your weapon as Lo’ak and Tuk breach the small clearing and skirt in panting. Tuk jerks her hand free from Lo’ak’s when he stops to bend over and catch his breath, not faltering until she runs straight into you.
“Tuk,” you sigh in relief as she collides into your arms. As you’re kneeling to embrace her, checking for any injuries or damages on her young self, the second group of your clan comes through.
“You okay? Are you hurt?” Jake questions instantly as he and Neteyam make it into the clearing. Lo’ak shakes his head, and you do the same when he takes a quick glance to Tuk as she runs to him the next second, high sobs falling from her lips.
A bright light sweeps over the forestry and the Sully brothers step up to your sides as all of you look up to see an RDA aircraft come down to retrieve their men and then fly away. Just as they’re falling out, the missing segment of your family tumbles into the huddle.
Tuk makes an immediate bee line for her mother, who wraps her arms around her and exhales gratefully. You’re still on your knees as everyone begins embracing one another, holding and clinging and regaining themselves after too close of a call.
But not you, no. Slowly, you rise onto your feet and put your head on a swivel. Not everyone is here. Not everyone has been reconnected.
“Where’s Spider?” You ask, under your breath at first before his absence fully hits you. “Where’s Spider?!”
Kiri gets on her feet herself and a cry shatters out of her chest. She takes a step towards you, shaking and trembling as she reaches out.
“They took him,” she sobs. “They took him.”
As Kiri crashes into you, you feel all the breath evacuate your lungs as if you’ve been hit so hard your chest has concaved. You grip onto her, weeping and crying and gasping so harshly you feel as if you will never be able to breathe again.
A hand comes to your head and you feel yourself and Kiri being tugged into a firm chest. “Hey, it’s alright, babygirls. He’s a tough kid. Shh, shh. He’s gonna be okay,” Jake comforts and shushes, hooking his chin over the tops of your heads as he pulls you in tight.
“We’re all gonna be okay.”
But you do not believe that for one second. You can not all be okay because you are not all together, you are not all safe. Your brother has been captured by the very people who destroyed this land and population decades prior. Nothing is going to be okay. Not everyone is going to be alright.
And the solution decided for this problem only reinforces that for you.
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italiansteebie · 10 months
Text
also on ao3 (Im not... super happy with this but here you go anways.
There were many things people didn't know about Steve Harrington. Like how he was fluent in italian, or how he actually didn't care that much about his hair or his looks, or how his parents are never home.
But people seemed to take one look at Steve and seemed to think they had it all figured out, and Eddie was no exception. 
Until the guy started picking up the newest sheep from hellfire, until he saw Robin Buckley from band hanging out with him, hanging onto his every word.
So maybe he didn't have the guy figured out.
And he figured out he really didn't have shit figured out when a cheerleader started floating in his living room. Or when the ground split open and Steve Harrington wanted to go down there.
But then he figured out that for Steve, Nancy, and newly Robin, this was... Quite normal for them actually. And so they walked through the gross ass woods with Nancy Wheeler to find the guns that she had hidden in her closet. Guns. In Nancy Wheeler's closest. In a dimension hidden in the crust of this one.
What the fuck is going on?
So anyways, they make it out.
After Steve gets chewed on by bats, of course, and he gets up and runs like nothing ever happened and Nancy and Robin pretend that that's normal.
And he doesn't know how the guy did it because when it comes time for Eddie's turn, he almost dies. They kill the big bad guy, though Eddie doesn't get to hear about that part for a few weeks. He doesn't remember much about how they got out of the Upside Down the second time, but he does remember one really weird thing that Steve had said.
"Fuck, fuck! My leg fell off!"
And then he was being dropped, and it all went black.
--
They had done it, they had finally done it, he was dead and it was over. The race was over.
Well, Steve had thought it was over.
But then Dustin was sobbing over Eddie's body, and the kid couldn't stand up right, and suddenly there was another race to escape the throws of the upside down.
They were so close.
The steps of Eddie's trailer were right there. But of course life had other plans, and he felt the suction come loose. 
And he toppled over.
"Fuck, fuck! My leg fell off!"
And maybe he should've thought about that sentence. but Eddie was slipping away and he panicked. 
Nancy was the only one who really knew what he was talking about (to her credit, she was the only one of them who's seen him naked), but Dustin and Robin both looked very concerned, and he'd even heard Robin whisper "rabies." with a crazed laugh bubbled up as punctuation.
"Here, get dustin to the gate, I'll help Steve,"
"Wh- how are you gonna put his leg back on? How does a leg fall off?!" Robin asked, laughing again, this time more maniacal. 
"Go!"
"Nancy!?"
"It's a prosthetic! the suction came loose, just get Dustin out of here!" Steve yelled, cutting through the shouting of the others, there was a studying pause from Robin and Dustin. "Questions later, please just go!"
So they did, Robin only looking back as Nancy cut away at the extra fabric of Steve's jeans, trying her best to help Steve with the suction sleeve of his prosthetic.
And soon enough, they were at the hospital.
Steve, Eddie, and Dustin had been admitted and Nancy and Robin were being checked over. They had arrived soon after Max, Erica and Lucas did, Max being admitted for multiple broken bones. (She'd be fine, the doctors had told them. Just a few broken bones and some new glasses). 
When Eddie woke up, it took a minute for him to realize where he was. Uncle Wayne was to the right of him, holding his hand, looking a little worse for wear. 
"Wayne?" The old man turned to him, eyes lighting up. "Oh, Eddie. you're awake," he could see the relief on Wayne's face, and almost felt bad for almost getting himself killed. But over the course of a few days, he woke up a little more, and Wayne told him all about how Chief Hopper came back from the dead, how the charges were dropped and a new trailer was waiting for them, curtesy of the government (which Wayne knew was shady but, hey. A new trailer is a new trailer). And how Steve Harrington had been visiting, every single day since he'd gotten better himself.
And that's when Eddie remembered.
"Hey, Wayne?"
"Yeah, son?"
"Did he have two legs?"
“Who?”
“Steve!” He said, exasperated, like it was exhausting just asking about the guy.
Wayne looked at him, "They up your morphine drip? Yeh, he had two legs." Eddie shook his head at him, "When we were in the... uh." Eddie hesitated, "Earthquake?" Wayne finished for him, "Yeah, earthquake, he said something about his leg falling off... but then I passed out... I. Is he okay?" he asked finally. Wayne pondered this for a moment, studying Eddie's face. "Well, he looked a little tired but, okay other than that."
"Is he going to come back today?" Eddie tried to sound like he wasn't desperate. It didn't work, if the look on Wayne's face said anything. 
"Probably. When you were just waking up I pressed the nurse call, and she said she was fixing to tell everyone the good news."
And just like that, Steve walked in, eyes wide, "Eddie! You're okay. they wouldn't let me see you when I woke up and I was so scared that I didn't make it in… Time." He cut off his nervous rambling.
"Yeah, I'm okay. Thanks to you, big boy."     
Wayne arched an eyebrow at this and stood, "I'm- I'll leave you boys to it." and with that the two were alone. Eddie studied Steve for a while. This was not the guy everyone told him about, the guy his friends had warned him about, and he wondered how everyone got it so wrong. "You're not who I thought you were."
"I'm... Uh. I'm sorry?" He posed it as a question.
"No! Not like that... Just. Everyone thinks they know you so well. And I- They don't. It's like, no one knows anything about you."
Steve smirks, "I'm a man of mystery,"
"Yeah, but maybe you should tell people when you're missing a leg, dingus. Nice to see you back in the land of the living Munson." and there was Robin standing in the doorway. "Rob!"
She and Nancy filtered into the room, Dustin hopping on his crutches behind them, "Yeah, what's up with that Steve? I thought you were captain of the swim team?" Dustin inquired. Steve rolled his eyes, "Yeah, the disabled swim team." he laughed.
"So... When we were 'down there' your leg really fell off?" Eddie questioned, watching as Steve lifted up his pant leg, tapping on the metal that was there in place of an ankle, "Yeah, I was sweating so much that the suction came loose, and well... It just slid off."
"So... How did you lose your leg?" He asked, getting smacked in the arm by Robin, "Hey! No hitting the guy in the hospital bed," he said, pointing to himself. "Dude, you can't just ask people that!" She said incredulously, Nancy and Dustin nodding in agreement, while Steve just laughed. "It's okay, it's okay! I'm used to it. I lost it when I was young... You guys probably heard about it… Uh. Me and my nona were in a car accident, we were both fine but my leg got trapped in the metal of the car, and well... They couldn't save it. It was pretty scary for a while, not having a leg... But then my parents got me a prosthetic that had dinosaurs on it. Perks of having rich parents who don't know how to show you love. " He shrugged, and Eddie didn't have time to be sad before Robin piped up.
"You... Oh my god! That was you! I remember hearing about that, you were what, 7 right? Because I was six... I was so sad for you. Oh! But then you showed your prosthetic at show and tell!" Robin rambled, and Steve watched the realization cover everyone's face, including Eddie's morphine clouded brain.
"Dude, when I heard that, 9 year old me freaked out! I had just moved in with Wayne and all of a sudden there's a kid without a leg? I thought you were the most metal person ever! Before I even knew what that meant. Wow." The look on Eddie's face could only be described as starstruck, like he was meeting his idol. 
"Man. People really don't know shit about you."
And Steve laughed. 
“No really!” Eddie insisted, sitting up slowly to prove his point, Steve reaching over to help him the rest of the way, urging him to be careful. “See! That's exactly what I mean! You're so… Helpful! It's weird. In highschool, I took one look at you and thought I knew everything about you, but… I don't!”
“I mean, after a while, you stop trying to share stuff when people just assume they already know you.”
And maybe that made Eddie feel a little guilty, but he knows it wasn't meant too. “So. Let's get to know each other then.” He said, reaching for Steve's hand, Steve closing the gap and holding his gently.
Steve smiled softly. 
“Ew, are you guys flirting?”
And both Steve and Eddie jumped out of their skin, forgetting they weren't the only ones in the room. “And what if we were, mind your business Buck.” Steve snarked, smirking back at Eddie. Robin rolled her eyes, “Let's play a game! It's called "get to know Steve!” Eddie cheered before the two could start arguing again. 
Steve shook his head, “I won't have any mystery then!”
“Maybe I don't want you to have mysteries with me.”
Robin scoffed, “You're flirting again.”
And the look Steve gave her was so quick, Eddie almost missed it. But it seemed to do the trick because soon enough she was dragging Nancy and Dustin out of the room with her, claiming it was time to visit Max. 
“You really want to get to know me?”
“I want to know everything about you, Steve.”
“Wow, I mean. No one's ever been like… Interested in me. They like my looks but… That's it.”
Eddie frowned, “Not even Nancy?” he questioned, regretting it as soon as he saw Steve’s face fall. “We weren't good for each other.” and that was all he said.
“What's your favorite color?”
“What?” 
“What's your favorite color?”
“Oh. It's uh. It's green. Forest Green.” 
Eddie smiled, “Getting to know you, getting to know all about you,” he sang, eyes squinting as he smiled, only for it to grow as Steve let out a giggle, an honest to god, giggled. Eddie thinks he's going to die, and what a place to do it. In a hospital bed, smiling at his crush. 
Steve pulled his hand away, and Eddie frowned, “Where are you going?” Steve smiled, “No where, just uh. your heart rates been kinda high since I started holding your hand.” he giggled, pointing at the monitors who's beeps were faster than they were 15 minutes ago. 
By the time Nancy, Robin and Dustin came back from visiting Max, the two boys had a date set for as soon as Eddie was cleared to go home.
“Hey, Steve?” Eddie asked as the girls settled back into their chairs in Eddie's room, an idea sparking in his brain. Steve turned to him, eyebrows raised. “What’s on your prosthetic now?” He led. 
“Oh, uh. It's just plain metal. My parents got tired of paying for the prints as soon as the whole thing wore off it's… Attention value I guess.” Steve shrugged, looking at the floor.
Robin jumped up from her seat, “Let's paint it!” she said, proposing the idea before Eddie could.
Eddie brightened, “Yeah! We can all add something!” He cheered.
Steve smiled, “You guys would do that?” 
“Of course we would, Steve.” Nancy said, leaning over to rest a hand on his shoulder, smiling at him knowingly. And so the next day, the whole group was piled into Eddie's room, Will’s paint supplies spread across Eddie's bed.
“What did you guys need it for?” Joyce asked, a protective hold on Will’s shoulder as she scanned the room. Steve came out of the bathroom, metal leg in hand, crutch in the other, “This! They're going to paint my leg,” he smiled. And just as expected, the new information made the room explode. 
After they shared the story, and Steve answered all the questions, it was decided that there was going to be even more art on his leg, even Hopper wanted to add his own piece.
Steve smiled as he watched his family paint something that brought his real family so much shame. 
It was months later, Eddie was out of the hospital, and Steve was confident in showing off his prosthetic, now that had been decorated by the ones he loves. They were on a date in the park, Steve was wearing the shorts that Eddie loved so much. The wind was blowing a soft breeze, and the sun was just beginning to set.
“I'm so glad I got to know you.” 
There were many things Eddie Munson knew about Steve Harrington. Like how he was fluent in italian, or how he actually didn't care that much about his hair or his looks, or how his parents are never home. 
And how he loved with his whole body, and the way he likes his eggs in the morning, and the way he showed off his prosthetic when it was covered in reminders that he is loved.
If one thing is for sure, there was no way you could take one look at Steve Harrington and know everything about him.
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yundeongie · 1 year
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die for you - p.sh
paring; park seonghwa x fem reader
word count; 2.2k
synopsis; seonghwa would do anything for you and so would you, if not even more.
genre; mafia!au, angst, the tiniest amount of fluff
warnings; depictions of violence, guns, major injuries
note; hi! so this is my first time posting on tumblr and hopefully i can post more if you guys liked and enjoyed this one-shot! i was very inspired to finish this when i was listening to the weeknd albums and especially the die for you remix, if you couldn’t tell :) i originally wanted to post this story in time for seonghwa’s birthday but tumblr was kinda acting up on me, especially cause of the whole new user thing (i wasn’t seeing it in the tags so i kinda panicked). praying it shows up!
。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚
“Don’t you ever get scared being with me?”
You chuckled softly, turning away from the book you read to face the man you love, “Who says that I don’t?” You close the book and walk towards Seonghwa, sitting on his lap and wrapping your arms around his neck. “But that doesn’t take away the fact that I love you.”
Seonghwa had never felt contempt in life before. Growing up, he was born into the mafia life and his father always made sure to let him know that he’ll be taking over his empire if anything was to happen to him and that’s exactly what happened. Being sixteen at the time and personally seeing his own father get assassinated by rivals was not something he had wished to see. Seonghwa had always loathed his father for being a part of the mafia and for forcing him to take part in those activities.
He was always told to never trust anyone, which is why he is the way that he is today. Cold, calculating, ruthless, heartless, basically all the words you could associate with a person like him. 
Until he met you. 
It’s cliche, but you were the exact opposite of him. Caring and affectionate. Whenever you could you would volunteer at different animal shelters and orphanages, you worked at a private nursing home. You were basically heaven and Seonghwa was hell.
One night after a long shift you were walking home when you heard some noises in the alleyway. Normally people would run away but you had too nice of a conscience to just ignore it and that’s when you found Seonghwa, laying almost half dead in his own pool of blood. And ever since then, Seonghwa swore his life to make you his and to protect you no matter what.
You weren’t stupid either, you knew what Seonghwa did but you love the man. You knew the dangers that came with being his lover, but the moment you entered his life you knew there was no way out other than death.
“What are you thinking about?” You lightly tap his nose, face scrunching up in the process. Seonghwa lets out a sigh whilst shaking his head and smiling, “Nothing much, but my thoughts are always filled with you.”
“Stop! That’s so cringy.” You giggled, covering your mouth.
“Well, it’s not cringe if it's fact, sweetheart.” Seonghwa pulls you closer to him and plants a gentle kiss on your cheek, as he pulls away you both make eye contact and Seonghwa’s eyes are warm as he looks at you with endearment, “I’m so glad I met you.”
"I do too." You softly smile, tapping his shoulder whilst getting up, “Do you want something to drink? I’ll make you some tea hmm?”
“That’ll be nice, thank you.”
As you head away, Seonghwa refocuses his attention on the stacks of papers and folders on his desk. Lately, the organisation has been seeing some fluctuation in sales and finances, nothing could explain this except for a mole within the organisation. Seonghwa was frustrated to the point where he threw some of the papers on the ground. His head was resting on top of his hands until someone busted through the door. 
“Seonghwa, I believe we have the break we were looking for.” Hongjoong, his best friend and right-hand man spoke. 
“Continue.”
“We looked into some files and asked around. Turns out that Dongmin has been keeping in touch with the rival organisation by leaking our information to them, allowing them to intercept with our dealings and sales.”
Seonghwa stood up, hands on his hips whilst pacing around, “Dongmin? As in Son Dongmin?”
Hongjoong nods, “I got intel that he may be planning something against you with the rival gang's support. Most likely with dethroning you.”
Seonghwa’s eyes widen, if someone was going to plan an attack on him the first thing that comes to his mind was to keep you safe and now that he knew someone was out there actively trying to harm him, he knew that he had to be next to you at all times. But before Seonghwa could even step foot outside the bedroom, all the alarms in and out of the mansion started ringing. 
Without a second thought, Seonghwa sprinted downstairs and towards the kitchen. He can see you crouched behind the kitchen counters whilst the bodyguards surround you. Gunfire was everywhere and Seonghwa, along with Hongjoong tried to find an opening so that they could get to you.
One second of silence was enough for them to move, holding their guns and shooting towards the front door even if there wasn’t anyone there. The moment Seonghwa made it to you, you immediately hugged him, as scared as you were, you’re just glad to know that he was safe and void of any bullet holes. Seonghwa did the same, quickly checking to see if you got any scratches. Whilst holding your hand, Seonghwa quickly ran towards the back of the house. Hongjoong closely followed behind, making sure to keep you both safe whilst calling for backup. 
You saw a lot of bloodshed within just a few minutes, many of the people who Seonghwa put around you to protect you were gone, never to see the daylight again. You held onto Seonghwa’s hand tighter and he did the same.
You both made it towards the backyard which was abnormally quiet, both Seonghwa and Hongjoong were on edge, cautious of their every move. There was no one guarding the back which was odd as he has guards securing every inch of the mansion. You huddled closer to Seonghwa and he made sure to put you behind him. 
Then suddenly a bright light shines in front of you all, blinding you for a second and then a voice speaks. 
“Well, well. If it isn’t the great Park Seonghwa and his little entourage. Whoops...seems like you don’t really have much to protect you.”
All Seonghwa does is glare at the traitor, Son Dongmin. Hongjoong doesn’t stop pointing his gun towards him, even if the odds are against them as Dongmin has a few people surrounding them. 
“Why?”
Dongmin scoffs, “You’re seriously asking me why? If it wasn’t for your stinking rat of a father, I wouldn't be like this!”
“My father?” Seonghwa confusingly asks.
“My father was the one in charge, your father? He was only a follower! He killed my father and overtook the organisation so now, I’m here to get back what’s mine!” Dongmin yells in frustration.
“Whatever it is, leave y/n out of this. She has nothing to do with this.” Seonghwa responds as he protectively covers you.
Dongmin smirks and tilts his head to get a better look at you, you immediately hide behind Seonghwa more, securing your hold on his clothing. “Well, maybe I should just kill you and your little followers too and just keep y/n all to myself huh?” 
“Don’t you fucking dare touch her.” Seonghwa lowly threatened. 
“Or you know what? I can let you live, if you give y/n to me, how about that? I wouldn’t even try taking over you if you did.” He smirks.
Your eyes widen and Seonghwa’s grip on you tightens even more, “In your fucking dreams.”
Dongmin rolls his eyes and begins playing with his gun, pacing back and forth before he suddenly stops, “Well then, I guess there's just no way around this then.” Then he slowly aims the gun towards Seonghwa. 
“Wait!”
You suddenly shout and now all the attention is on you, with Seonghwa’s eyes widened in shock and filled with worry. You slowly let go of Seonghwa’s hand even if he had zero intentions of doing so and made your way beside him. You look at him, his eyes pleading with you to not do what he thinks you're about to do before you turn your attention towards Dongmin. “If I exchange myself, will you definitely let Seonghwa and his men live?”
Quickly, Seonghwa grabs your arm and harshly whispers to you, “Are you crazy y/n!? I could never let you do that!”
You look back at Seonghwa, begging him to agree with your offer, “Please! I don’t want to see you die, Seonghwa!” 
“I’d rather be dead than let him take you hostage, you know I’d die for you if it means you can live!”
“But-”
Multiple gunshots were fired up in the air making you flinch and silent. “Boy oh boy, you seem to really want to die huh?” Dongmin says as he slowly walks forward a bit, “Maybe I should grant your wish then.” 
Quickly, he aims his gun straight towards Seonghwa and your eyes widen in shock as you look back and forth from your lover to the gun.
“No!”
Bang. 
As you open your eyes, you’re met face to face with Seonghwa and all he can do is look back at you in a daze, his brain barely comprehending what had happen before you gradually fall down but before you hit the ground Seonghwa catches your fall.
You start to feel numb and breathing no longer starts to feel comfortable. Seonghwa caresses your cheek only to panic after seeing the amount of blood on his hand and your face, he quickly tries pressing the bullet wound down from your back to try and stop the bleeding. You tried speaking but Seonghwa cuts you off, “Don’t say anything please, please. Nothing will happen to you sweetheart okay? You’ll be fine.” His voice trembles, he doesn't even know if he’s comforting you or himself. Never in his life has he feared anything more than the thought of losing you. 
Seonghwa didn’t care about what was happening in the background, all he could hear was countless amounts of gunfire going off and that most of Dongmin’s men were lying dead on the ground and that Dongmin himself was writhing in pain from an inflicted gun wound.
“I got the guys to help us but we have to keep moving Seonghwa, Yeosang is heading to the surgery room now!” Hongjoong shouted, ushering Seonghwa to bring you to safety. 
Not wasting any more time, Seonghwa carries you bridal style to run as fast as he can towards the emergency surgery room he has in his underground base. 
Your eyes are barely open but you can make out Seonghwa clearly, “You…you know that I love you right?”
Seonghwa looks down at you, tears already falling down his cheeks and yet even now you don’t seem to be scared by putting a soft-hearted smile on your face to seemingly comfort him in a way. “I know you do and so do I. I want you to remember that okay? Just hold on a little longer, we're almost there.” Seonghwa tries to reciprocate the genuine smile you have but all it does is leave him looking bittersweet. You nod slightly after mustering the energy you can before you black out.
Seonghwa ran even faster and soon made it to the surgery room, quickly placing your body down on the operating table, “Hyung, I know you want to stay but please just wait outside while I operate. Please.” Yeosang ushered. Seonghwa held onto your hand tightly but with Hongjoong dragging him out, he had no choice but to let go. 
Outside of the operating theatre Seonghwa sat down on one of the seats and looked at his clothes and hands, all of which were stained by your blood. He sat there not moving an inch for hours on end, not even bothering to change out of his stained clothes even if they had started to dry. All he wanted was for you to come out alive. Seonghwa was never the type of person to believe in God, but he was praying for the first time in his life. 
“God, if you're out there please make sure y/n will make it through this. Even if it means exchanging my life for hers, I’d do anything. Please.” He muttered under his breath, hands clasped together and eyes closed. 
Several more hours pass and Seonghwa became more restless and then suddenly Yeosang walks out of the operating room. Seonghwa immediately rushes towards Yeosang, “She’s fine now but if you were any later, I don’t know if she could have survived. She lost a lot of blood.”
Seonghwa let out a sigh of relief and hugged Yeosang, “Thank you, thank you.”
“Yunho’s inside cleaning up but if you want, you can go inside and see her. I know you want to.” Yeosang gives Seonghwa a pat on his shoulder and walks off with Hongjoong trailing behind him, knowing that Seonghwa would want to spend every single minute he can with you now. Without hesitation, Seonghwa makes his way towards you.
As he looks at you he starts to get emotional as he caresses your cheek, a tear falling down and landing on your face. 
“I love you and I'm sorry.” Seonghwa places a kiss on your forehead, glad to know that you’ll be able to wake up soon but guilty that he couldn't protect you like he promised, making you suffer. 
After Yunho took you to the recovery room, Seonghwa knew what he had to do. To kill that bastard once and for all because no one messes with Park Seonghwa and his most precious treasure in the whole world. You.
。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚
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topguncortez · 2 years
Note
“Count your breaths with me, okay? Ready? One, two, three, four…”  with Hangman? I love everything you write and I cannot wait for the requests you get with some of these lines!!
I might've gotten a tad carried away with this. . .
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TW: anxiety, panic attacks, self violence (hitting and hair pulling), therapy in the military world is called 'Behavior Health'.
It was like a cold knife had cut through his chest as he woke up with a start. It was dark, as he looked around the room for anything, something to ground him. To let him know it was a dream, and he had survived the Uranium Mission. That he had come to you, and that everything was alright. His team was whole, he was breathing, and he was going to get yet another face award for his “sacrifice and bravery”. 
On the outside, Jake Seresin looked okay. He still had that swagger to his walk, the cocky smirk on his face, the perfect blonde hair and teeth, and was still sitting at the top of the promotion board for Lieutenant Commander. He still went out for drinks with his coworkers, was still tossing people “overboard” for Penny, and still came home to make love to you every night. 
What people didn’t know was that Jake Seresin hadn’t been up in a plane in almost two months. 
What people also didn’t know was that Jake Seresin woke up every night in a cold sweat from the nightmares that plagued his mind. 
You didn’t even know about them. All that you knew was Jake stirred and moved in his sleep, and would get up to grab a glass of water, and would come back to cuddle you. You didn’t know that Jake had the constant replay in his mind of hearing how terrified his fellow pilot was, or how he imagined that Bradley was you, calling out for help, and Jake was just too late, every single time. 
“You okay?” You asked, sleep heavy in your voice as you rolled over and looked at Jake’s figure. He was running his hands through his hair and taking shaky breaths. 
“Yeah, baby, I’m fine,” Jake said, and looked around the room again. He knew it was a dream, he knew that it was all okay. He took a deep breath, and then shifted back down in bed, laying next to you, wrapping you up in his strong arms. You sighed in content as you snuggled in with him. You assumed he fell back asleep, that it was normal of Jake to fall asleep almost anywhere at any time, except he stayed awake and watched you sleep. 
The next day you were both up early to get ready for work. Jake was now a part of the new permanent Dagger Squadron on base, while you were still working as a Top Gun instructor on the other side of the building. You would occasionally see each other in passing, usually as you were headed to the locker room to change from your khakis into your flight suit. But today you wanted to surprise Jake, he had seemed more stressed than ever since becoming a permanent squadron, and preparing for his promotion boards. 
You walked into the hangar, and spotted him immediately, it was easy to spot his tall, strong stature. Usually he was hanging around Rooster or Phoenix and Bob, except this time, he was being yelled at by Cyclone. You stood by, and watched as Jake’s shoulders dropped as Cyclone finished yelling at him. You could hear Cyclone ask Jake a question, and all your boyfriend did was shrug and then get dismissed. You moved quickly to turn your back, hoping that he wouldn’t see you as he walked out of the hangar. 
“Bradshaw!” You called out to him, causing the aviator to turn towards you, “What was that about?” 
“That?” Bradshaw looked over to where you had pointed towards Warlock and Cyclone talking, “That was about your boyfriend avoiding flying for the last two months.” 
“What? How?” 
“Stupid shit, he has to go to the doctor, or you have to go to the doctor, or he’s sick or you’re sick, or he’s-” 
“That’s not. . .” You shook your head, and felt bile rising in your stomach. Jake had been skipping out on work to go elsewhere. Bradley’s eyes softened as he looked at you. 
“He probably has a reason for it. You know he’s not like that anymore. He loves you.” 
Rooster knew where you mind went at the explanation of Jake’s excuses for not flying. You knew Jake had a reputation, and you truly believed that he had changed. But you could see the same pattern as the girls before you had warned. 
“I gotta go, thanks Bradley,” You said, and walked away from Bradley. Your mind was on autopilot as you walked towards the locker room, knowing that was your best chance at finding Jake and confronting him about him skipping out on flying. 
You thought that his skipping on things was just things with you like date nights. You couldn’t remember the last time Jake had shown up for a date night on time and didn’t give you the excuse of ‘Not tonight baby, I’m too tired.’ You didn’t think that he was doing something behind your back, but now that was the only thing you could think of. 
You didn’t think twice, when you pushed open the locker room door to the males room, you were ready to call out Jake’s name, but his name fell silent on your lips when you saw him standing at his open locker, just staring at the contents inside of it. He was still in his flight suit, and his helmet sat on the bench beside him, but Jake was frozen. His green eyes wet with unshed tears as he looked blankly at the pictures taped to the walls. 
“Jake?” You called out softly. You walked towards him, as if he were a scared animal, and stood against the lockers on the opposite side. Jake sucked in a deep breath, his hands going straight to his hair and pulling harshly on the locks, “Jake, what’s wrong?” 
“I-I don’t know,” He sobbed out. 
Your heart broke as you watched Jake’s hard outer exterior crumble right in front of you. You moved quickly, taking Jake’s hands from his hair to get him to stop ripping out his blonde locks. He looked at you with wide, frantic green eyes as he struggled to catch his breath. This had never happened to him before, he had never felt like this. Sure, he got nervous, would get that little tingle in his spine before a hop or a dog fight. But never in his years of living had Jake Seresin felt like his chest was on fire, and like the walls were caving in around him. 
“I can’t, I can’t-” Jake’s face was turning red, as he pulled his hands away from you and scratched at his throat, which was also turning red. 
“Jake,” You said, and went to grab his hands again. 
“No!” Jake screamed, falling to his knees. It startled you as he cried loudly, and hit himself, repeating something about not being able to stop it. . It took you a second, before you knelt down in front of him, and grabbed his hands so he would stop pulling his hair. 
“Hey Jacob, look at me,” You said, “You need to breathe, okay,” And Jake shook his head disagreeing as he choked on sobs, “You need to try, okay,” Jake looked up at you, tears still in his eyes, his breathing frantic. You placed his hand on your chest, so he could feel the rise and fall of your chest. 
“Feel my breathing?” You asked, and he nodded, “Try and copy me, okay. Pretend like you’re sucking on a straw, slow breaths with me. Count your breaths with me, okay? Ready? In for one, two, three. . . “ You counted to three in your head, “Out for one, two, three. . . “ 
Jake held your hands tightly as he tried his hardest to copy your breathing, slowing down his heart rate. He would hiccup as he was letting his body settle back down to a normal level. You wiped his tears from his cheeks as you kept coaching him on how to breathe properly. 
“That’s it, love, you’re okay,” You assured him, “It’s okay.” 
“I’ve never. . . What just happened?” Jake asked you, his chest still heaving a little. 
“It was a panic attack, Jakey, it’s okay. They happen,” You knew that he was probably beating himself up about appearing “weak” in front of you. He was the Hangman, he doesn’t show weakness or panic. He was cool, calm, and collected. This doesn’t happen to him. 
“Do you want to talk about it?” You asked him, and moved to sit down on the floor on your bottom, your back leaning against the lockers. Jake moved, not even carrying that he was laying on the dirty locker room floor, and laid his head in your lap. Your hands went straight to his soft blonde locks, “Rooster told me you haven’t been flying?” 
“Haven’t been sleeping either,” Jake mumbled, “I keep replaying that day, over and over in my mind. I know I’ve had my issues with Bradshaw, but he’s your best friend, and you promised me to make sure that we both came home alive and. . . I heard everything, from the moment Mav was struck to when Rooster went down, to when they thought they weren’t coming home. I was just praying and willing that whole time for my jet to go faster, so I could get to them, so I could save them.” 
“You got to them Jake, you did your job,” You said. 
“But what if I hadn’t? What if I didn’t get there in time? Or worse, the enemy fired back. And then I think. . . what if it was you?” Jake looked up at you, his green eyes wide, “The nightmares used to be about the team and Bradley, then. . . you started showing up. And now, all I can think about is listening to you call out my name for help and I try to get there fast enough, but all I see is you. . . your plane is getting ripped apart.” 
“I didn’t have a clear head, so I knew I shouldn’t be flying. I just didn’t know what to do. I-I’ve never had this happen,” Jake said honestly. 
“You ask for help, Jake. It’s okay to ask for help,” You say to him, “We can go talk to behavioral health tomorrow, and you can talk to someone. Jake, you don’t have to do this on your own, okay. I’m here and so is Rooster, and so is your whole team. You shouldn’t have to deal with this on your own.” 
“Thank you,” Jake said, and grabbed your hand, placing a kiss on the inside of your wrist, “I’m sorry I hid it from you, I just didn’t want you to see me as weak.” 
“You’re not weak Jake, this doesn’t make you weak. . . it makes you human."
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prompts list: xx
gif set: xx
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??? Is this where I drop by to share my headcanons about House of Mouse Yuu? Tumblr is so confusing. Anyway, back on track.
It’s a newer idea of mine but I am kicking and screaming about the idea of a Detective! Yuu!
She starts to get suspicious of things after Leona’s overblot. Things are WAY too convenient to be mere coincidences. She at first brushed off Riddle’s overblot as a one time thing. It was clear that Riddle was long overdue for his damn to break.
But Leona, a man of great intelligence as well as physical strength that can beat ten men like he’s squishing a cockroach overblotting during the biggest, most important events for him? Plotting against Diasomnia’s team was clearly only the first layer. The time and place was way too convenient. If Yuu hadn’t been there to find out his secret plan and fool him, it’s likely Leona would have succeeded. What Yuu thought was just a petty ploy for revenge against people who always saw Leona as lesser turns into a game of follow the strings.
Don’t even get me started on book three. Illegal scamming and forced labor? Suspicious. Yuu finds it way too odd that she had the perfect team to beat the overblot after she foils another housewarden’s scheme. Any why so soon after Leona’s overblot? A few months between each blot fight might seem large to some but three overblots in the span of a school year? Each one perfectly linking the first to the next? It doesn’t seem plausible that THREE students secretly decided to act out plans of demise only to overblot afterwards?
Yuu knew they all had sob backstories but GEEZE. (Even Idia found it suspicious about the amount of overblots)
And now, how this all plays out into the House of Mouse.
Yuu goes about her work like a normal person, except she’s incredibly talented at solving puzzles or word games. If there’s an accident in the kitchen while no one is there watching, Yuu puts together clues and finds the answers in record time.
Patrons like Roger (from 101 Dalmatians)might bring a newspaper to the club one night to have some fun with the word cross only to get befuddled when suddenly Yuu pops up behind him and gives him the answers to the hardest ones because she knows it’s rude to ruin people’s fun. Yuu gives Roger a pat on the back and continues on with serving the villains’ food and drinks.
Yuu just knowing oddly specific information about things the crew like Donald or Mickey might not know. For example knowing exactly what Goofy had for breakfast despite being in Twisted Wonderland all morning or where Donald left that one CD in his house boat that he could never seem to find. Or if Minnie and the others can’t remember a code for a work computer or something like that, Yuu walks in when she hears about it and simply types in the entire 20 digit code from memory and then walks out again like it was nothing. Even when Minnie is very sure she never told Yuu the code to that specific device. And that no one had told Yuu, either. (I don’t know why they wouldn’t tell her-maybe for security/safety reasons? Y’know, with Pete{is that his name? I haven’t watched HoM lately} always trying to destroy the HoM?)
Omg—I didn’t realize how much I was rambling until I scrolled?! So I’ll leave you with these last few bits!
•Grim wearing a beige trenchcoat and fedora during the second book while they try to figure out what Leona is hiding and Yuu not having the heart to tell him that’s not actually how detectives/investigators actually dress
•Yuu having multiple impossible to solve rubiks cubes and hand written what-if scenario essays scattered inside her dressing room to pass the time
•Yuu having AT LEAST three makeup items like lipstick or a compact mirror that is actually gadgets like a mini sleep-dart gun or just simply using the mirror to spy on people behind her
•Yuu playing video games like ‘bomb diffuser simulator’ or murder mystery board games like Clue when Ace, Deuce, and others come over
•Yuu ironically/purposefully using a cork board and red string when solving cases just because it’s fun
Okay so when you first said Detective!Yuu, my first thought went to The Great Mouse Detective. Like imagine Yuu and Basil of Baker Street being mystery solving besties (with Basil sitting on her shoulder or breast pocket). I feel like detective!Yuu would remind Basil of Sherlock Holmes (especially in that one scene in the Savanaclaw manga where Grim wears the classic deerstalker and is holding a smoking pipe)
Meanwhile Professor Ratigan is sulking because he was supposed to be besties with her.
I remember there was this one Goofy cartoon which was 'How To Be A Detective' and Yuu is just in the sidelines shaking her head and laughing at all of his antics.
Since Yuu is just a teenager I reckon that she wouldn't be an actual detective but would be more like the Hardy Boys or Nancy Drew or the characters in the Enid Blyton books, 'Famous Five' or 'The Five Find-Outers and Dog.
I bet that she even goes head on with Professor Von Drake for a battle of the minds when he gets too full of himself (and then beats him, much to Mickey's amusement).
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defectivevillain · 6 months
Text
this broken design, ch15
pairing: Hannibal Lecter/Reader
summary: That familiar analytical gleam in your eyes lives in Hannibal’s mind as he sinks his teeth into his prey. Despite your departure hours ago, Hannibal sees you sitting across from him at the table. Dining alone has never bothered him; yet, right now, he can’t help but desire your company—your scintillating conversation, your sharp wit, your clever smirk. Indeed, his table feels uncharacteristically empty. Hannibal stares at the chair across from him—the same chair he’s grown accustomed to seeing you sit at—and takes another bite. Flavor explodes on his tongue, yet you are what dominates his thoughts.
Your experience in criminal profiling means that you've met a wide variety of people from all different walks of life. You've stared down hardened criminals and fought for your life against people hellbent on killing you. Even so, something about the FBI's new target, the Chesapeake Ripper, seems to elude you.
Then you meet Hannibal Lecter: an enigmatic jigsaw of a man with jagged corners and misshapen pieces.
Fortunately, you've always been rather good at puzzles.
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read from the beginning here.
ao3 version | Spotify playlist
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typical warnings apply.
The Chesapeake Ripper stares at you, his crimson eyes boring into your skin and sending a horrible dread itching up your arms.  
You stare back, despite knowing you shouldn’t. You should run, hide, do anything except remain standing before him like this. You’ve never been more aware of your gun’s weight on your belt—the only reassurance you have in this office. The air almost seems to buzz in the silence. You don’t know if you should break through the tension or leave it to fester. It takes every ounce of resistance you have not to make a move for your gun. You know the gesture would ruin any process you may have accrued from this session so far, any fleeting conviction that you wouldn’t hurt Hannibal.
You don’t know anymore. Would you hurt Hannibal? You’ve had plenty of opportunities to do so, but you’ve never followed through. You can’t decide if you’re cowardly, cruel, or compassionate. Perhaps you’re a mix of the worst qualities, rolled up into an agent with too little morality and too much apprehension. You’ve labeled all your interactions with Hannibal as investigations into his character, but you’ve left each of those encounters knowing more about yourself than you could ever wish to know. 
“You knew,” Hannibal says. There is nothing more to be said, it seems. And perhaps, for the first time since you met Hannibal, you have the upper hand. You are the one possessing knowledge, and he is the one to be wounded by ignorance of it. Better people would not have been satisfied or satiated by this realization, but if there’s anything you’ve learned about yourself through this process, it’s that you’re not a good person. For someone to serve as a complicit accomplice, allowing the murders to continue… you are just as bad as Hannibal is. 
A small part of you is more forgiving. A voice in the back of your mind—one that sounds far too similar to Hannibal himself—keenly reminds you that you had no choice, that accusing Hannibal without sufficient proof would’ve had devastating consequences. This voice caresses your skin with a shadowed touch, with a gentleness that you know you do not deserve. 
“I suspected, yet…” Hannibal breaks off.  It’s extremely unusual for him to trail off in the middle of a statement; the man is normally extremely articulate. You raise an eyebrow, gaze still narrowed in on him. You can’t look away for even a moment. A second’s hesitation is practically a hand-wrapped gift to the Ripper. “It appears you’ve rendered me speechless.”
Hannibal takes a half-step forward. You pull out your gun, pointing it at his temple. He stills, before raising his hands in the air in faux surrender. It’s an act—it’s all an act. He is not threatened. In fact, Hannibal looks excited, amused. He is not afraid. The Chesapeake Ripper does not feel fear, you have to remind yourself. He once choked a nurse to death, and his heart rate hardly fluctuated. You swallow hard. Hannibal may not be afraid, but you certainly are. The irony is not lost on you: you have the gun, yet your heart pounds in your chest all the same. Normally, you are the prey and Hannibal is the predator; now, the roles are reversed and you’re left anticipating another reversal. 
“Will you do it?” Hannibal asks, his voice cutting through the static in your ears. 
You take a step forward and jam your pistol into his temple, hard enough to bruise. “Do you want me to?” You ask, your voice disturbingly calm. The mad gleam in Hannibal’s eyes suggests that he may actually want you to kill him. His pupils are blown wide and the smile on his face almost looks to be carved into his skin. Do you want me to kill you? Are you really, truly apathetic towards death? I don’t think so. I think, deep down, you are just as afraid of death as everyone else. You’ve grown so good at lying that you can even deceive your own feelings, Hannibal. The conscious deceives the unconscious.
For a fraction of a moment, you contemplate killing Hannibal Lecter. You imagine pulling the trigger, shooting a bullet straight through his temple. Your mind conjures images of Jack Crawford arriving at the scene, clapping a hand on your shoulder and reassuring you that you did the right thing, that no one else has to die. You imagine washing the blood from your hands that night and sleeping fitfully, roused from slumber every so often with the reminder of what you’ve done. 
Was it all for nothing? It’s a worthless thought, but that doesn’t stop your mind from contemplating the notion. Was all of this just one giant game? Were you always meant to be a pawn—easily manipulated and weakest alone? You want to think that your time with Hannibal thus far was to serve some great purpose, but, in reality, you were ensnared by the trap he laid for you. You fell for the same charismatic visage that his past victims did. What gives you the right to be the one to survive it, to survive him? 
All of these feelings, recognitions, and memories assault you in the split second after Hannibal asks if you will kill him. Then your trigger finger twitches. The split second of contemplation does not go unnoticed—that fleeting moment is all it takes for him to spring into action. One moment, you’re staring at each other. The next, Hannibal is lunging at you. You just barely manage to dodge, throwing yourself to the side in a rather harsh movement that nearly sends you falling to the ground. In the blink of an eye, Hannibal holds a deceptively sharp antler, ripped from the decoration sitting in an open-faced exhibit case. The movement is fluid and performed with ease. Did he plan for this? Hannibal admitted that he didn’t know that you knew. The confidence in his frame as he encircles you tells a different story and you’re brutally reminded that he is a practiced killer. He has killed before; it’s foolish to think that you will escape with your life. 
Still, you do have an advantage. You’re likely the first of Hannibal’s victims to be prepared—to be armed with the knowledge that he is immensely dangerous. Therefore, you’re not taken off guard by Hannibal’s sudden assault (although you’re certainly disturbed by the smooth nature of his movements). You squint at the weapon in his hand, only to realize that it is a sharpened knife. The decoration must’ve encased a weapon within it. Even so, you’re holding a gun. It doesn’t take much thought to determine which weapon will win between a gun and a knife. 
Knowing this, you run a few paces towards the side and duck behind his desk. Your heart is racing in your chest but your hands are steady. You wait a moment before popping up and firing your gun. Somehow, you miss. The bullet just barely rips along the top of Hannibal’s shoulder, grazing the skin before rocketing into the wall in the distance. He hardly falters in his approach and you duck back for cover behind the desk. A second’s contemplation leads you to roll under the ample space under the desk and come back out on the other side. It’s a good thing you trusted your instincts, because as you move, Hannibal is leaping over the desk with ease. You stand up, only to find the desk creating a boundary between Hannibal and you. You point your gun at him, but he doesn’t stop moving. Startled, you fire another shot, only for the shot to hit his left shoulder again. Fuck. You try to reload, only to find that you have no more ammunition left. How did you forget to reload your pistol? You’re momentarily distracted by your self deprecating thoughts, so much so that you neglect to notice Hannibal approaching until he’s practically right on top of him. You drop the pistol and try to throw a punch, but Hannibal bends to the side and bodily throws you to the floor. 
Hannibal is quicker than you expect him to be. Before you can begin to get up, Hannibal is kneeling over you with his knife pointed down at you. Except… His knife isn’t pointed at your throat or heart. It’s hovering above your face and inching closer, closer, closer. You immediately put all your strength into pushing Hannibal’s grip away. Unfortunately, from your positioning, Hannibal has a momentum advantage. He exerts more force and the knife kisses your skin, cutting right through the scar you thought to be healing. You can’t stop the pained hiss that escapes your lips. The knife is nearly tracing the skin around your eye and you knee Hannibal in the gut, leaving you an opportunity to shove him off of you and get to your feet. 
Blood is dripping down your face now, coloring the left side of your vision a rosy pink. You wipe at the newly-opened scar with the back of your hand, slightly perturbed when you notice there’s enough blood to turn the top of your hand crimson. Adrenaline is the only thing keeping you upright, you think. Your heart is racing out of your chest as you stare at Hannibal. He stares back unflinchingly. You’re satisfied with the fact that his left shoulder is bleeding and that his clothes are rumpled. 
You’re circling one another—on the hunt once more. Who is the predator? Who is the prey? Who is the hunter? Who is the meal? Who is the murderer, who is the victim? Your lines are blurring together, creating a horrible haziness through which you can’t find where you end and where Hannibal begins. You don’t know how to feel about that, nor do you know how to feel about the man in front of you. 
“Do you truly wish to fight?” Hannibal asks, assessing you. There is nothing in his eyes except restraint, nothing on his face save for the mask he always wears over his emotions. You don’t know how to navigate this moment. You don’t know what to do, what to say, how to feel. Maybe you should have just shot him in the beginning. Perhaps then, you wouldn’t be agonizing over the past like you are now. 
You don’t answer his question. Hannibal’s lips tug into a slight smile, but it’s a dark and wry thing. The distance between you has never felt so little, and the feeling is only further compounded when Hannibal steps forward. Then he takes another step closer. And another. You’re certain your heartbeat shouldn’t be so loud in your ears, nor should your chest feel so tight. You’re staring death right in the eyes and meeting his shadowed scarlet gaze. 
Hannibal reaches out and you flinch. His hand slips to the nape of your neck and your skin prickles. For a moment, there is nothing between you except unnerving silence and unflinching eye contact. He looks as if he’s going to swallow you whole, ripping the skin and tissue from your form until you’re left a bony skeleton. You wonder if Hannibal can feel your pulse at your neck, hammering away in an attempt to warn you. Stay awake, you tell yourself. Stay alive.  
Hannibal pulls you toward him and you know you’re powerless. His eyes glitter in the low light and you can almost see the shadows pooling around him, threatening to encompass you in one fell swoop. You hardly have the chance to react before he’s tilting your head and pressing a kiss to your lips. The gesture is swift, but the pressure of his grip still digs into the junction of your shoulder. There’s a buzzing sound in your ears as you stare at Hannibal, the Chesapeake Ripper. Time seems to freeze as you’re left to cope with the sudden onslaught of feelings: apprehension, remorse, anticipation. There is an unspoken finality lingering in the air. 
Quick as lightning, Hannibal strikes. The knife in his hand catches the light and winks at you, before he smoothly stabs you in the side. You gasp at the blinding pain and Hannibal’s vice-like grip keeps its hold on you, forcing you to remain standing. Even so, you’re bending forward, trying to cope with the intense spasm rippling through your skin. Hannibal places a hand on the back of your head and pulls you into his chest. You don’t have the strength to do anything, leaving you entirely pliant in his arms. His hand slides to the nape of your neck again and it feels as if he’s cradling you. His other hand grips your shoulder with bruising fervor, digging into the skin and ripping through the bone to send shivers down your spine. Hannibal is flaying you apart in his arms, picking through your skin to find the precious organs for his meal. You take a shuddering breath in, thrown off by the chill spreading across your body. You’ve never been so cold. 
Any remaining strength promptly seeps out of your limbs, and even Hannibal’s grip isn’t enough to stop you from falling to the ground. Blood escapes from your abdomen, dripping down your skin and coloring your shirt with an expanding crimson stain. You try to keep yourself sitting up and shoot out a hand to brace yourself against the floor. It’s nearly impossible to pick out any thoughts from the rushing in your ears and the pain crawling up your side. Despite these overwhelming stimuli, you still see Hannibal crouching down from the corner of your eye. He places a hand behind your neck and guides you to lie on the floor. There is kindness in the gentle manner with which he lays you to rest, yet all you glean from the gesture is smug brutality and victorious pretense. 
“Alea iacta est,” Hannibal murmurs, looking down at you. It takes a few seconds for your pain-hazed mind to recognize the Latin phrase and another moment to translate it: The die has been cast.
It is clear that Hannibal is not anticipating a response from you and, truly, you have nothing to say. There is no word that will ever describe the confusing maelstrom of betrayal, anger, and self-loathing rushing through you as you slowly approach death. Your fingers twitch with the desperate, visceral need to do something. Your vision is swirling around you, until Hannibal is nothing more than a blurred visage in your eyes.  
Suddenly, there’s a hand on your cheek. A thumb wipes the fluid—blood or tears, you’re not sure—from your left eye. You’re so disconnected that your eyes don’t even flutter at the close contact. The Chesapeake Ripper’s face hovers above you for another moment, as if he’s looking for something, before he gets to his feet. He makes his escape, leaving you to the wreckage.
You fade away slowly. Looking up to the ceiling of Hannibal’s luxurious office, a bubbling laugh crawls its way out your throat. The familiar coppery, metallic taste of blood sits on your tongue. You’re going to die, you realize. You idly wonder who will find your body. It may take a little while for anyone to realize you’re missing. Perhaps Jack will be the one to trace your phone’s signal and find your corpse in the office of Dr. Lecter. You can already see the tight pull to his lips, the determination stitching his form together. Beverly, Jack, Alana… All of them will move on from your death. It won’t take them long, you think. Dying in the field isn’t a rarity. A peaceful, quiet death is a luxury afforded to very few agents at the Bureau—and it’s a luxury you don’t think you quite deserve. No, this is a fitting end for someone like you. 
Memories flash before your eyes. You had so many close calls, dodged death so many times that you began to think yourself immune. You survived Gideon. You survived countless sessions with Dr. Lecter. You survived Garret Jacob Hobbs. Yet now, as you lie on the floor of Hannibal’s office, you are forced to come to terms with your own mortality. You will not escape this encounter unscathed. 
The blood leaking from your side is beginning to pool on the floor next to you and the sight sends your vision into a dizzying spiral of colors. You let your head fall back against the ground and close your eyes, trying to calm the patterns racing before you. There’s a bone-deep exhaustion settling in your chest, beckoning you closer by the moment. Shadows are pulling the curtains across your vision and, despite your best efforts at resistance, your world soon fades to black.
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next chapter (final chapter of Act One)
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“The conscious deceives the unconscious” is a direct quote from Celeste’s speech at the end of Chapter 3 in Danganronpa. Her whole dialogue is: “Are you asking me to feel guilty? That’s a pointless endeavor. I think nothing of sacrificing others for my own ends. I feel nothing. That’s all there is to me. That’s what makes me… complete.” and then: “Hmph. My ability to lie is unrivaled, and I take pride in that. It’s not just other people—I can even fool my own emotions. The conscious deceives the unconscious.” I couldn’t fit that entire thing in the text obviously, but I like it, so I’m throwing it here. Y’all know me… if I like something, I will throw quotes anywhere I see fit. I’m annoying like that. 
I changed Hannibal’s desk, yes. We’re going to pretend that it’s the same one as in canon, except with more room under it—so that it has enough space for the reader to duck, roll under it, and come out on the other side of it without hurting himself.
“Stay awake, you tell yourself. Stay alive,” is a direct callback to the first chapter. If only the reader knew how far he would come… 
Rationalization for the reader’s behavior and the fight, if you’re interested…: The reader is both intimately aware of the danger of Hannibal Lecter, while also being overconfident about his abilities and the evidence of his survival so far. Furthermore, he consistently characterizes the Ripper as a separate entity from Hannibal, which shows how much he struggles to connect the two as the same individual. By separating the Ripper from Hannibal, he excuses Hannibal’s actions and only attributes responsibility for criminality to the Ripper. The reader’s continued relationship with Hannibal and his subsequent hesitation to wound him in this chapter are both manifestations of this “othering” and focused displacement. Since the reader has the two separated in his mind’s eye, he is unable to connect the Hannibal in front of him with the Ripper. This also overpowers his perception of Hannibal, to the point where the memories they’ve made together dominate over any of the reasonable doubt, fear, and guilt that should be dominating his psyche. It isn’t until the reader is faced with direct evidence (*cough, cough*) that he is able to connect the dots and truly see Hannibal as the Ripper. 
Ultimately, Hannibal & the reader’s relationship is different from Hannibal & Will’s relationship. I’m realizing now that this reader is definitely more on the morally grey side of things. Will’s perception of Hannibal was largely motivated by an unexplained feeling of suspicion—Will wasn’t quite able to pin down that feeling until later on. The reader, on the other hand, has known from the beginning of the story that Hannibal is the Ripper. This knowledge, in layman’s terms, fucks with his head. Hence, the climax of Hannibal & the reader’s encounter is noticeably different from Hannibal & Will’s encounter. Hannibal knows Will can and will turn him in, and he sees Will’s brief hesitation to join Abigail and him as a violation to their trust. On the other hand, Hannibal is unsure about the reader for a moment, because of the new context that his knowledge provides on their interactions. The reader could have left the moment he knew, but he didn’t—and this *briefly* sways Hannibal.
There are a number of different answers for the question of Hannibal’s motivations in stabbing the reader. One could argue that this conflict was motivated by Hannibal’s frustration at the thought of the reader knowing something and not telling him; from what I’ve gleaned of Hannibal, he thinks knowledge is power. He could be “betrayed” at the reader’s confirmation that he knew the entire time. It could also be argued that Hannibal isn’t the least bit accustomed to the feelings the reader incites within him and, therefore, decides to kill him instead of attempting to untangle the giant webbed mess of his conflicting feelings for the reader. I think it’s also somewhat reasonable to say that Hannibal isn’t used to the thought of someone knowing his true nature and simply went on the defensive before the reader could kill him (a sort of black-and-white mindset, like “I’ll kill you before you can kill me”). Lastly, if you want to look at this chapter in a more metaphorical sense, you could say that killing the reader is Hannibal’s method of forgetting his past as he “moves on” with his life as a wanted fugitive (since the FBI will be after him soon enough). There are more reasons that you could attribute to Hannibal’s actions in this chapter, but these are the few that immediately stuck out to me. 
Chapter 16 (next chapter) will be the last chapter of Act 1. I originally said this was supposed to be the last chapter, but I’m a liar. Sigh. 
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hannibal taglist: @its-ares @tobbotobbs @xrisdoesntexist @gr1mmac3 @tiredstarcerberuslamb @yourlocalratwriter @kingkoku @kahuunknown @atlas-king1 @pendragon-writes @slipknotcentury @cryinersaved @the-ultimate-librarian @starre-eyes @pendragon-writes @peterparkeeperer
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bitternessismyname · 1 year
Text
Dog Bites (Sherlock X Reader)
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Summary: a stray dog has been spotted several times around Baker Street, and you encounter it while out at the store.
Warnings: a little blood
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You had been out late in the evening picking up some groceries you needed for tonight's dinner. The boys had finished a case and you told Sherlock to invite John and Mary over for dinner. Mary was 7 months pregnant and you knew she was not going to want to cook so you decided to have a little family dinner. The Watson’s were as much your family as they were Sherlocks, even though none of you shared blood. Except Sherlock and Mycroft who you insisted he invite. Sherlock was on the phone with Mycroft as you were leaving. You smacked him on the shoulder and told him to invite the older Holmes brother over for dinner. Sherlock rolled his eyes then invited him then nodded to you which meant he would probably be joining you. You liked Mycroft, he was always sweet to you and you both got along much to Sherlocks dismay.   
You went to the corner store to pick up some milk, eggs and bread crumbs. You decided to make chicken parm for dinner. It was easy enough and the boys favorite. You remembered back when you and Sherlock were dating before he faked his death, you would always make it for them after they had a bad day. It had become sort of a comfort meal for them but it was also a meal they would happily eat even for celebrations like tonight. 
Sherlock didn’t like you being out this late by yourself. Even though it wasn’t dark yet he knew it would be by the time you got out of the store. Always the protective boyfriend. He was always finding new things to give you for protection. He’s given you pepper spray, tasers, pocket knives. He even tried to give you a gun at one point but you refused that one. You had the pepper spray with you today since it was just going to be a quick 20 minute trip to the corner store. You weren’t even planning on bringing it with you but as you grabbed your purse to leave Sherlock walked up from behind you and slipped it into your bag as you watched him. He insisted you take it for your own safety. You rolled your eyes but agreed so you didn’t get into an argument. 
You were walking through the store getting everything you needed to finish making dinner. You knew this store like the back of your hand because if you wanted to go shopping with Sherlock this is the only place you could go to since this is the only store he hasn’t been banned from. Everytime the two of you would come here to shop you told him he had to be on his best behavior because if you had to go shopping by yourself from now on because he got banned from this place you’d be livid. You also told him he might starve because you wouldn't buy any groceries for him since he wants to act like a child. 
You had everything you needed and was now waiting in line at the check out. There were a few more people here then there normally were but they were all regulars at the store so you exchanged hellos and they all asked you about the famous detective. 
“Exhaustingly energetic and hungry as always. So I should get home and start cooking. We also have company tonight. They just solved a big case and before you ask no I have no idea what it was about.” You chuckled as you chatted with Margaret the cashier. 
“Well then we better not keep him waiting. Be careful going home, several people have spotted a stray dog running around. From what everyone says it’s not diseased or anything, just scared and a little aggressive.” Margaret warned as she finished bagging your things.
“Well most scared dogs are aggressive, it’s their defense mechanism.” You explained. “I’ll be careful, have a nice night Margaret.” You assured her as you waved goodbye. 
You were about five minutes walking from the flat when you heard whimpers coming from the alley. Your mind thought back to what Margaret said about the stray dog. You decided to take a look even though you knew you shouldn’t have.  You walked into the alley and found the dog behind some garbage cans whining. You got closer to check him for injuries, kneeling down in front of him you saw no signs of injuries. You reached your hand out for him to smell you but he growled and bit your wrist. You yelped and pulled your hand away causing the pup to whimper at the loud noise. Poor thing was just scared, you tried once more with the other hand and the pup nuzzled into your hand. 
You couldn’t leave him here, you just couldn’t. He was a German shepherd, no more than 6 months old, if that old. You looked up at the sky, it was supposed to rain today. It’s done a good job at holding off but the clouds in the sky told you that your luck was just about to run out. You couldn’t leave the pup out here. Given that the dog was by no means small. It was at least 25 pounds and the pup was very underweight. You had a bag full of groceries and a bloodied wrist, how were you going to get the pup home? You decided to scoop it up in your jacket like a mother kangaroo would carry their baby. The jacket took most of the weight off your hand so it was easier to carry the pup. You supported the puppy from the bottom, his head was resting on your shoulder like a baby.
“Sherlock is going to kill me.” You muttered to yourself as you continued to walk home. 
When you reached the flat your wrist was killing you. Blood was soaking through your tan jacket making it very noticeable that you were hurt. Quickly running up the stairs you knocked on the door with the hand holding the groceries since you couldn’t get to your keys.  When the door opened it was Mycroft who immediately saw the blood. 
“Good God Y/N what happened why are you bleeding?!” He asked as he pulled you inside and took the groceries from you. Sherlock ran over when he heard you were hurt but his eyes landed on the dog first. 
“What is that?” Sherlock asked.
“It's a long story.” You waved him off, walking to the kitchen and grabbing a wet rag to clean the wound. Of course he got John to come check you over. Mary followed him and took the puppy from you with a smile when she saw you struggling to hold him and the rag. The pup whined at the loss of you but Mary hushed him like she would a child and took him into the living room. You took your jacket off and John sat next to you at the table, taking the rag from you and inspecting the wound. 
“How's it look? Do you think it’s infected, do you think the dog has rabies?” Sherlock rambled. 
“No Sherlock. It’s fine, it’s just a dog bite. It doesn’t need stitches but it is deeper than I would like. We’ll put some gauze on it then wrap it. Once it’s stopped bleeding fully we’ll put some liquid bandaid on it to seal it.” John explained. 
“Why on Earth would you bring home a dog that bit you? Where did you even find it?” Mycroft asked. 
“I was warned before I left the store that there was a dog roaming around.” You began but was quickly interrupted.
“Did you seriously go looking for it?” Sherlock sighed in disbelief. 
“No but I heard a whimper from the alley and I decided to check it out. Poor thing was laying behind some trash bins. I couldn't leave him there. Look, it's raining.” You pointed to the window where the rain had started to come down. John finished wrapping your hand and you went into the living room with Mary and the pup. The boys all followed you. 
“So you decided to bring him here? He bit you.” Sherlock huffed. 
“I know but it was my fault. I reached for him. He’s just a scared little guy. Look at him, he's harmless, he can't be more than a few months old.” You held the puppy up to Sherlocks gaze. 
“No.” Sherlock said sternly. 
“No, what?” You asked innocently. 
“We are not keeping it.”  He clarified. 
“Oh please Sherlock. He’s a good boy I promise. You know I’ll take care of him. I’m good with animals.” 
“You killed our fish.” He stated.
“That wasn’t my fault I followed the instructions it’s not my fault it still died. Dogs are different, I grew up with dogs. Please I know you love dogs, you always tell me that you begged your father for one. This is our chance to have one of our own. Please.” You begged.
“I don’t know if this is a good idea.” 
“You can train him to go on cases with you.” You persuaded.  “He does look to be a German Shepherd. He could be like our little baby.”  You held the dog up to Sherlock's face where he licked his cheek. You heard him huff meaning he was giving up. 
“Fine, but I am not cleaning up his.. Bodily functions.” He conceded.
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Taglist
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