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irondad-defensesquad · 5 months

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Would you know my name if I saw you in Heaven?

Also on AO3!

TRIGGER WARNINGS - past character death, hallucination, and delirium (might be medically incorrect).

DO NOT SHIP PETER AND TONY. P/roship DNI.

It’s a slow day today. Mainly because Tony canceled all of his appointments to take care of a sick Peter Parker.

Admittedly, Tony has never taken care of a sick kid before, but he just knew something was off when he realized Peter was late for school early this morning. Getting there, he found the boy running a high fever, whimpering to himself. Luckily, Peter was able to stomach some tea and enhanced medication Tony found in the lab. F.R.I.D.A.Y hasn’t detected any bad side effects for now.

Halfway through the afternoon, Tony is checking on the Spider-Man suit and the Baby Monitor. He already called both Peter’s school and May to let them know about the kid’s whereabouts. Nothing out of the ordinary for now. Everything seems peaceful…

That is, when F.R.I.D.A.Y gives him a concerning report.

“Peter has gotten out of bed and is now in the hallway. He seems to be in distress.”

Tony freezes. “What do you mean?”

“He appears to be lost and confused, unsure where he is. He must be experiencing a fever delirium, judging by his high body temperature.”

The man drops everything and rushes there, until he stops. Peter is touching the walls as though he has never been here before.

“Peter?” Tony calls him.

The teen looks back, clearly half-asleep. His eyes are deep like outer space. And for some reason, Peter looks shocked to see Tony. As in astonished. As in… he hasn’t seen him in years.

“... Uncle Ben?”

Oh my god.

Tony doesn’t know what to say.

All he knows is that he needs to get Peter back in bed, or else he’s going to get hurt.

“Is it really you?” Peter starts coming his way…

Only to stumble. Tony is not fast enough to catch him before he falls on the floor.

“I got you,” he whispers. The kid is burning. “I got you, you’re okay.”

He tries to help Peter stand…

But the boy instead wraps his arms around Tony very tightly, and he’s sobbing like never before.

“I-I’m sorry,” Peter begs. “I’m s-so sorry, Uncle Ben…”

Once again, Tony is at a loss of words. He can’t just say, I’m not Uncle Ben, he’s dead, he’s been dead for a while. That’s just going to make things worse.

“Peter, I’ll just–” Tony tries to lift him.

“No! Don’t go, please, don’t leave me!”

“Shhh, shh…” Tony embraces him more properly. “I’m not going anywhere, kiddo.”

“I’m sorry, please…”

“Shhh… it’s alright, bud.”

Tony feels awful for… pretending to be Peter’s dead uncle, but again, he knows that doing otherwise wouldn’t help. At the very least it’s enough for Peter to calm down, so Tony is able to guide him back to his room. The blanket was thrown to the floor, so Tony grabs it and tucks Peter in.

“Stay?” Peter grabs Tony’s sleeve.

The latter smiles, trying not to break right now. “Of course.”

Peter even scoots to leave some space for him. Tony protects both of them with the blanket and Peter… immediately glues to him again, sounding relieved and probably the happiest he’s been.

“... I love you,” the kid mumbles.

Tony doesn’t think he’s ever heard these words so clearly, coming from Peter.

They aren’t for Tony, though.

Regardless… “I love you, too, Pete.”

He doesn’t get any answer.

Peter must have fallen asleep again.

He probably didn’t hear Tony.

Peter sleeps like a rock.

When Tony is sure he’ll be okay and his fever has gone down, Tony decides to take care of the food. Something lighter so the kid doesn’t feel queasy or anything.

It’s nighttime, the TV is on, when Peter is caught coming to the kitchen, rubbing one of his eyes. He looks a lot better than before.

“Hey, kiddo,” Tony smiles. “Feeling better?”

“Mmm… I think so.”

“Alright, so, I got you some toasts, Gatorade… and a banana. I assume you’re hungry.”

“Yeah… But I think I can eat more than that.”

“Just be careful.”

Admittedly, Tony himself is not too hungry, probably because of stress. He just drinks his classic coffee for now. In the meantime, he watches Peter, who looks like he didn’t have that episode today. However, he still looks contemplative while he eats.

Eventually, Peter hums to himself.

“... Man, I had this weird dream… I woke up in my old apartment and then… I saw my uncle standing right there, calling my name. It was like I had just woken up from a nightmare… But, like, Uncle Ben looked kinda different. He had darker hair and he wasn’t wearing any glasses. But it was him, I knew he was there. He took me to bed and stayed with me until I fell asleep again…”

Just a few seconds later, Peter is laughing at the absurdity of his “dream”.

“Weird, right?” The teen comments and resumes his meal.

It’s so jarring.

Just hours ago, this kid was crying and holding onto Tony for dear life. Peter was begging him to stay. Peter said “I love you” to Tony.

But to him, it wasn’t Tony.

To Peter, it was Uncle Ben who came back to look after him one last time. It was Uncle Ben who told Peter that he loved him and didn’t hate Peter for what happened. Everything was okay then.

Tony can’t for the life of him ruin that. He can’t tell the kid that he was feverish or hallucinating. That would destroy Peter. Tony needs to let him have that, at the very least.

Even if Peter never meant “I love you” to Tony.

(After all, does he deserve it?)

“... are you okay, Mr. Stark?”

Now Peter is the one with a concerned look.

“Yeah, of course,” Tony replies, taking another sip of his coffee.

The teen may not believe him, but he looks away, focusing on his phone next to his plate.

Tony has decided he won’t tell Peter the truth about his “dream”, but… he also feels like he shouldn’t just do nothing about it. Every time he does nothing, something will always go wrong.

The hero knows he can’t fill the emptiness in Peter’s heart. He doesn’t want to replace it. But he doesn’t want Peter to believe it’s not important. It must hurt like hell. It must haunt Peter every single day of his life, even if it’s not obvious all the time. Even if the kid pretends it’s not a big deal.

Tony, for once, leaves the now empty cup of coffee aside. He’s next to Peter now, kneeling down to better face him. The boy looks confused.

“What?” Peter asks.

There are so many words to be said.

But all Tony does is… open his arms.

Peter’s brown eyes widen, knowing what it means.

“Mr. Stark… hey, come on, you don’t have to do that.” He hugs himself instead, looking away.

Tony sighs. “Kid.” He doesn’t say more, but he means more. I’m not doing this out of pity. I’m doing this because I love you. I love you. I love you more than you can imagine.

Peter looks nervous. He’s so hesitant to hug Tony back. Like he’s afraid of doing so. Knowing him, it’s probably because he doesn’t want to hurt Tony, not the other way around.

He eventually complies. He’s trembling.

Tony genuinely wants to cry.

He rubs Peter’s back, to let him know it’s safe.

The teen seems to shiver but in surprise, not because he doesn’t like the contact.

Until he relaxes and lets out a deep sigh.

“... Thanks, Mr. Stark.”

Peter doesn’t just mean the hug.

Tony squeezes him a little tighter.

“Always, kid.”

So many unspoken things.

But at least Tony is there and he’s not leaving.

#lotus speaks #irondad #fics #my fics #hallucination tw #delirium tw #death tw #hurt/comfort #sickfic

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umbrellalavender · 26 days

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God, why have I fallen in love with another Netflix show? Please don’t let me do this! Netflix will cancel it and I won’t know how to live with myself!!!!

So… could you please watch Dead Boy Detectives? :)

#netflix #dead boy detective agency #if Netflix cancels this show I’m going to cry #it’s so bloody good!

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burning-quesadilla · 8 days

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PLEASE go watch dead boy detectives it’s cute, gay, funny, and will likely get cancelled if more people don’t watch it

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magic-stuff-and-books · 17 days

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We have until the end of the month to prove to Netflix Dead Boy Detectives is worth saving. The second season is written and ready to go, we just need to show them we can bring the audience! Please spread the word and encourage everyone you know to watch Dead Boy Detectives - completing the series counts the most. We'd love to go back to work and bring you all another season, so please help us spread the word <3

Gotta be honest with you Anon. I don’t believe for a second that you work on the show like you’re implying. Nor do I really believe this deadline you’re claiming.

That being said I do encourage people to go watch Dead Boy Detectives. Not only because I want another season. But because it’s a genuinely good show that doesn’t deserve to be cancelled before it’s time.

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ravennm84 · 3 years

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Complicity

Hey everyone! Sorry I’ve been missing for a while, but I’ve had a lot going on and lacking inspiration, until the other day! I know that Lila thinks she’s the smartest person in the room and that everyone else it too stupid to figure her out. So, I decided to let her “think” she’s being smart, but gets caught because she did something stupid. Warm-Fuzzies and please enjoy!

Lila was happy. Since she had become a model, she had acquired a small fan base of people that thought she had beauty and talent. Granted, it wasn’t as large as she thought it should be, but she had only done three photo shoots and had been mentioned in one magazine. But this was just the beginning; soon, all of Europe would know her name and reporters would be clamoring after her for pictures.

But at the same time she was very angry.

This was because Marinette had been mentioned in the same magazine as her. And where Lila got a single photo that showed more of Adrien than it did of her, Maribrat had gotten an entire article and multiple photos about her designs and the collaboration she was doing with Style Queen Audrey Bourgeois since the woman had decided to stay in Paris. She had even looked at the girl’s website and saw that there was an actual wait list to receive one of her original designs.

Enraged that someone she considered to be plain, talentless, and all around lower in status than her, Lila started coming up with plans. She wasn’t about to share her spotlight with anyone, let alone Maribrat.

She was tempted to accuse the bluenette of stealing her designs and ruining her reputation, but since she had been designing for longer than Lila had been in Paris, that had too much of a chance to backfire. She’s thought of sicking one of her classmates/sheep to break into her house and destroy her commission projects, but that also had too much of a chance to backfire since they would likely blab if they were caught.

No, she needed a different type of plan. Something that would be farther removed from herself so nothing would blow back on her, but harsh enough so that even Maribrat wouldn’t connect what happened to her. It took a few weeks and a lot of planning, but she came up with something that would work. It had been the perfect plan, a way to get Marinette out of her life and the spotlight for good.

All it took was some sweet talking one of her new followers; a large, burly boy named Henry that was a couple years older than her and not very bright. He would have done anything for her… including going after a “stalker” that had threatened to hurt her. She barely even had to suggest anything before the boy assured her that he would protect her at all costs. It even seemed to be working when Maribrat was suspiciously absent from school for a few days after Henry said he would “take care of it”.

It had been the perfect plan...

Until the police showed up.

She had just gotten home when the police arrived, saying that she was wanted for questioning in an open case. They had already been in contact with her mother and Greta Rossi had promised them their full cooperation. Rather than risk looking guilty, Lila called her mother to make sure they were telling the truth before grudgingly going with them.

When she got to the police station, she was met by her very confused and furious mother. This wasn’t the first time she had been in trouble with the law. There had been an incident in Rome where she’d been accused of pushing a boy, Simone, down the stairs, and her mother had been forced to pay his medical bills. She had made it very clear that if Lila caused any more problems at school, it would not be pleasant.

So there she was; sitting with her mother and a couple of police detectives that she didn’t recognize, who were giving her condescending looks. “I am Detective Cooper, and this is Detective Raimus. We understand that you have been made aware of your rights, correct?”

“Yes, multiple times. What is this all about? You can’t just bring my daughter in for questioning like she’s some common criminal.” Her mother said as she stared down the two men.

“Mme. Rossi, we need to ask your daughter some questions in connection to an assault that took place against one of her classmates.” Stated Cooper, a detective with a thick mustache.

“Are you or your daughter familiar with a M. Henry Mortaure?”

“I’ve never heard of him,” Lila lied with a shrug.

“Neither have I, who was attacked?” Her mother asked, suddenly worried about what her daughter might have gotten involved in.

“A Mlle. Marinette Dupain-Cheng, are you familiar with the name?” Asked Raimus, who looked a bit older than his partner.

Greta Rossi thought for a second before nodding. “Lila has mentioned her a couple of times, said that she was a bully. What about her?”

“The Dupain-Cheng residence was broken into a few days ago by M. Mortaure. He was armed and confessed to be doing so with the intent of killing Mlle. Dupain-Cheng.” Mme. Rossi gasped in shock while Lila was attempting to hide her smirk with a look of worry. “The Dupain-Chengs were not harmed, although the same cannot be said for M. Mortaure.” Cooper placed some photos in front of them on the table, gaining another gasp from Greta. Three of the man’s limbs were wrapped in heavy gauze, his face was swollen and bruised from a black eye and a seriously broken nose.

Lila didn’t flinch when she saw the photos, but was now fighting a scowl at the knowledge that Henry had failed her. And since she was here in an interrogation room, it could only mean that the idiot had blabbed. But that didn’t matter, she could just say that he must be a crazy stalker who had somehow found out that Maribrat was bullying her and decided to take things into his own hands. After all, it wasn’t like she had called or messaged him from her personal phone. She had bought a burner phone with cash just for this occasion.

“Despite being armed with a pistol, he never had a chance to use it,” Raimus stated as pushed one of the photos towards Lila. “He will require reconstructive surgery on his face from being hit multiple times with a rolling pin. His arms were severely burned when he fell into a fryer, it’s likely that he’ll never have full use of them again. Despite the burns, he attempted to go for a kitchen knife after being disarmed. That knife was turned on him and he ended up with a perforated lung.”

Greta looked like she was going to be sick, unable to look away from the pictures in front of her. But she eventually did, casting a harsh stare at her daughter. “Please, tell me you had nothing to do with this.”

Doing her best to fake her shock, she shook her head and pushed away the photos. “I swear, I had nothing to do with this. I don’t even know why he would do this.”

“We were wondering the same thing and discovered that he’s a fan of yours. He has multiple pictures of you, as well as Mlle. Dupain-Cheng. We suspected that he had been stalking you and came to the conclusion that he thought she was bullying you and decided to protect you on his own-”

“Oh no, that has to be it!” She exclaimed, skillfully faking shock. “Marinette followed me out of school last week and threatened me to stay away from my boyfriend. This boy must have seen her and decided to get rid of her.”

“If that’s the case, why are you questioning my daughter?” Greta pressed, not completely believing Lila but seeming to be coming around to her side.

“As I was saying,” stressed Detective Cooper. “We had suspected that M. Mortaure was stalking your daughter, until we got the warrant for his phone. It seems that someone, supposedly Lila, has been corresponding with him for many weeks. She had been flirting with him, sending him photos of herself, and then Marinette. She went on to tell him that Mlle. Dupain-Cheng was a stalker and had threatened her. M. Mortaure seems to have done what he did with the understanding that he was protecting Lila, at Lila’s own behest.”

“I would never do that!” Lila cried before reaching into her purse to pull out her personal mobile and set it on the table in front of them. “Check my phone, I never messaged him.”

“We have already checked your phone records against the one that has been messaging M. Mortaure, and found that the numbers did not match.” Detective Raimus said, and Lila watched her mother visibly slump from relief… but it was short lived.

“We did, however, track the number to a burner phone that was purchased in cash from a gas station. We thought it was a dead end, but the person who bought the phone made a mistake.” Raimus continued as Detective Cooper pulled out his own mobile and dialed a number. “The person who bought it has kept it on, and it is currently active.”

Seconds after Cooper pressed send, a ringing came from Lila’s purse. Greta Rossi stared at her daughter in shock before yanking the purse out of Lila’s hands and pulling out a second phone from inside. When Cooper cancelled the call, the second phone stopped ringing.

“What have you done?” She spat at Lila.

Panicking, she shook her head while looking around the room for an exit. “That’s not mine! They must have planted it on me when they brought me here! They’re trying to frame me!”

“DON’T LIE TO ME!” Greta screamed at her daughter, causing Lila to practically fall out of her seat in fear. “You convinced someone to commit MURDER for you! That makes you just as guilty as him!”

“But-but I have diplomatic immunity! I can’t be charged for any of this!”

“Yes, you can,” Greta said, her voice going cold. “I may be a secretary to the Italian Ambassador, which grants me immunity, but that doesn’t extend to you! I told you to behave! I told you to never cause trouble like you did in Roma after what you did to that boy that called you out on your…” Understanding washed over Greta’s features as her expression morphed from anger, to understanding, and then disgust. “That’s it, isn’t it? Marinette never bullied you. She knew about your lies and you set out to hurt her just like before!”

Standing up quickly, her mother started pacing the room before looking back to the detectives. “I’ll still need to speak with the ambassador, but you can expect our full cooperation in this.”

“Mom, no!”

“What are the charges?” Greta asked, acting as though Lila wasn’t even there.

“As Lila is a minor, she can be charged with Complicity to Commit Murder, the decision of sentencing is ultimately up to the judge. But seeing as she purposefully bought a burner phone to use and has also lied to the police, I wouldn’t hold much hope.”

~oOo~

The trial took longer than expected. At first, things had been looking up since her followers from class had come to act as character witnesses. All of them saying how wonderful she was, a great friend that did so much for them and everyone she knew, and that she would never do something so terrible. That Marinette was just jealous of Lila, so it was better to take whatever she said with a grain of salt.

Then, the prosecution started their case. Showing evidence of Lila falsifying records at school, video evidence of her purposefully framing Marinette for assault and theft. As well as the communications between herself and Henry, encouraging him to kill Marinette.

Her followers had still been a bit sceptical to believe what the prosecutor was saying about her, not wanting to believe that they had supported someone who would try to get another person murdered. But then came her past victims, many of whom her mother had never known about. Simone from Rome, Sara from Florence, Giulia from Venice, Daniel from Viterbo, and Sofia from Palermo. All of them testifying against Lila, many with screenshots of threatening texts from her, photos of ruined property and injuries she had inflicted on them, and all around proof that Lila was the reason behind many hardships that had happened to them. And all because they had figured out that she was a liar and she had done everything in her power to hurt them.

After all that, the judge had not been kind.

“It is clear, Mlle. Rossi, that you are a very disturbed girl in need of help,” the judge said, not bothering to hide how offput he was by Lila. “I cannot, in good conscious, allow you to roam freely. Having seen that these habits of yours have not only been repeated over and again, but have escalated to attempted murder. I have no choice but to have you returned to Italy where you will be kept in a juvenile detention center until you turn 18, at which point you will be transferred to a mental hospital for treatment for no less than five years. At which point, you will be evaluated to see if you will be able to safely rejoin society.”

Lila was immediately escorted back to Italy in disgrace. Her name slandered across every newspaper and magazine across Europe for what she had done. She was now famous, with most everyone knowing her name and reporters scrambling to take her picture as she did her walk of shame out of the courthouse. She was finally famous, but for all the wrong reasons

In case you are wondering. Henry made the mistake of coming after Marinette when she was with her parents. Tom and Marinette were in the bakery kitchen and Sabine was at the front. Tom saw the gun and hit him in the face with his rolling pin twice. He dropped the gun but was still coming after Marinette, she tripped him and he landed in the frier, which had been turned on to make donuts, and splashed oil all over him. Sabine had rushed back in time to see a bleeding and badly burned Henry grabbing a knife, she did some wicked moves that resulted in Henry stabbing himself. By then, he passed out from the pain and the Dupain-Chengs had called the police. The officers that came were both impressed and terrified by what happened to the boy, but the surveillance footage proved that they were only defending themselves.

TAGLIST:

@2confused-2doanything @7-sage-7 @aadnrsstar @abrx2002 @awkwardromances @bayball @babylovebug18 @botanicalfoxx @caffeinetheory @cheshire5210 @chocolateherringtacofan @city-of-all-tunas @classycollectorreviewworld @corabeth11 @darkened-flame @delightfulcookiesrecipespizza @fandom-trapped-03 @ghostmaster @iamblinkmarvelarmy @interobanginyourmom @izang @jesussavedevenme @kazedancer @kitten12113 @lady-phoenix-of-tardis @lilypotter2018 @lunataravler @maskedpainter @ miraculouslydumb @nerd-nowandforever @ola-is-dead @pandacatxd @plushbookworm @plz-excuse-my-inner-ravenclaw @pheonix-biach @raiderofthelostbooks @ramos123 @rowanrouge @rowanyx @ren121 @seesea22 @seraphichana @sashakoi @shypeacekitten @tazer6787 @that-girl-sakea @thecrazyfantrollshasmoved @the-smallest-kittenz @tishwinchesterannabethjackson @t1dwarrior-of-earth @ulmban @with-forward-motion @wonderbat91939 @zoiechance

#lila salt #lila gets exposed #class salt #miraculous justice #lila karma #tom dupain #sabine cheng #marinette dupain cheng

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xo-cuteplosion-xo · 3 years

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Assassin

Pt 7 of Red; Blood and Love | Dazai x reader

Part one here

previous part here

masterlist here

Dazai held the child in his arms, their head leaned on his shoulder, the two of them dozing off while the TV flickered with the frozen image of the classic “are you still watching?” message.

Woken up by a harsh jab to the side, Dazai shot awake, grabbing his stomach before he realized his collar was being harshly grabbed. An older version of Y/n staring back at him with dead eyes. Gone the light of their childhood, gone their joy. “Who the fuck are you.” There was nothing behind those eyes, dead as an assassin's eyes normally were. So that’s where they were now. Not yet met, but this was the child just before he’d roped them into the mafia when he was 14. Before their eyes gained a little light, and they laughed again. This could be a pain, back then he’d fought hand on hand with their skills. He’d hardly overcome them, they held an intelligence nearly as high as his own, able to gather their opponents' minds within a handful of snarky comments.

“Ah good morning to you, Belladonna.” he’d act for a bit, remember the child he was dealing with now wasn’t accustomed to kindness.

Backing off, they jumped away easily skilled, their body swaying like a feather in the air, landing light like water dropping onto the floor. “Where am I? How did you manage this?” Their eyes were darting around the room, assessing every exit and every possible weapon. Slowly they relaxed, narrowing their eyes before tilting their head.

“Figure it out that quickly?” Dazai smirked, his eyes reflecting confidence as the child sat back on the couch.

“How long will it last?”

“Not very long, some of your younger selves lasted a day, others were here for a week or longer. There doesn’t seem to be a set time limit.” Dazai stood up, stretching his arms before poking his side. “You bruised my pretty skin!” Dazai whined crossing his arms, watching the assassin with careful eyes.

“Well, you were touching me, creep.” Dazai placed a hand over his heart pouting as if their words had hurt him.

“You’re so cruel Y/n-san!” Dazai flashed them a smile before walking towards the kitchen, flinging his hand back to catch a knife. “Hey! We don’t throw knives at people we’ve just met.”

“You’re annoying and weird, what are you some variety of mummy?” Dazai snickered, dangling the knife in his hand before tossing it onto the counter.

“Nope! I’m a detective and you’re an assassin.” The child seemed to freeze, getting back into a defensive stance. “Ah, don’t worry, I'm not a detective with the police. I’m part of an agency full of capable users, like yourself. Though I’m a little special, being able to cancel out other abilities.”

“How did you… ah right, this isn’t the year I’m in. what’s the date today anyway?”

“You’re a good eight years into the future, maybe a bit more? It’s hard to tell how old you are right now. Considering you don’t know me, it could be anywhere over eight years.” The child simply narrowed their eyes before they widened quickly, grabbing a knife.

“You’re him, aren't you! The boy just about my age who nearly got me killed!” Dazai’s eyes narrowed. Had he guessed wrong? Was it already approaching that year?

“I don’t know, am I?”

“Please like I could forget the face of the only person I lost in a fight with. Dazai, the demon protege.” Dazai sighed, turning away, his hold on the refrigerator door increasing.

“I’m not that man this year, nor are you this assassin. I can’t let you wander around the city alone though. After all, there are hundreds of enemies waiting to scratch this more vulnerable version of yourself.'' The teenage assassin rolled their eyes, striding up to Dazai, reaching over him to open the door, swinging it open with a little unneeded force. Their hands reach for the eggs. A frown over their lips as they studied them. “My my, you’re truly untrusting!”

“Shut up, in this world trust that gets handed out at random comes back to bite you in the back.” They shot Dazai a glare as they walked to the stove searching the cabinets for a pan.

“Aww, but if I’d wanted to harm you, couldn’t I have done so while you were smaller?” Dazai taunted a smile over his lips. This was just like the early years of their relationship. He didn’t have to worry about anything, letting words fall naturally.

“Shut up! God, you're infuriating.” The snappy remarks didn’t bother him, used to how their younger self was before they had mellowed out.

“Ouch! Y/n-san is so cruel to me! I even saved them!” They turned around with shock in their eyes, before remembering this was the future Dazai. “Hm? Surprised I'm not misgendering you, are we? I would never dream of being that cruel. I have some level of respect.” Dazai smiled, brushing their shock off like a speck of dust.

“So we really must be close in the future… knowing the rumors I’d have thought I'd be dead by now.” They shrugged, scrambling the eggs before placing them onto two plates.

“I would never let something like that happen to you…” Dazai tilted his head, bawling his hands into fists as he slid onto a stool at the island. Finding the plate of food in front of him, he stared at it. He wasn’t craving food… he really wasn’t hungry this morning.

“Eat you suicidal bastard, or I'll shove it down your throat.” The assassin's glare hit him hard. It had been a while since they’d been this hostile.

“I’ll eat later.” Dazai smiled, leaning his chin on the counter with his cheeks puffed out. “You have to attend work with me! I’m sure you’ll find you like it there!” Dazai smiled, observing the smaller person roll their eyes. Forking the eggs into their mouth with a grumble.

“Sure, I doubt you’d let me say no anyways.” Dazai shook his head, sitting straight and leaning back on the stool.

“Hm? Well, I wouldn't mind if we didn’t go. I’m not in a "let's go to work" mood today anyway.” Dazai almost tipped the chair back completely as he spoke without a care in the world.

“Uh-huh, I can see that working wonderfully in your favor.” The snarky attitude lifted Dazai’s lips into a smile. Sliding off the chair and grabbing the empty plate, dumping it into the sink. He stared at it for a moment before rinsing it off. He carefully set it in the dishwasher. He hated how they influenced him at times. Wanting to show he wasn’t a useless bum.

“Well then let’s head out!” Dazai whistled, seizing his coat and sliding it over his shoulders.

“You look weird in color instead of black.” The teenager narrowed their eyes, wearing a scheme of dark colors themself, they contrasted against Dazai.

“Don’t give me any ideas! I’ll dress you up in light colors if you don’t stop insulting my wonderful coat! This is my favorite coat, you know!” Y/n rolled their eyes, distancing themself from the older and much taller male.

“If you touch me, I'll stab you!”

“To be killed by you would be a blissful ending!”

“Eh? What the hell you suicidal maniac! I’ll just stab you in non-lethal ways so you’re in pain!”

“Ah, that would be distasteful! I hate pain, Y/n-san!” Dazai let the assassin kick his stomach, leaving him to hiss in pain.

He waddled to the agency, sometimes he forgets they could land hits as Chuuya could. He kept a close eye on the kid as they entered the agency ahead of him. Glancing around with their assassin-trained eye. “You don’t have to do that…”

They only shot Dazai a glare before they noticed Kyouka… Ah right, they shared something in common. Except Y/n had been the one to kill their parents while Kyouka’s parents died tragically by an ability. “Who is she?”

“Kyouka? She’s one of Atsushi's friends. He saved her from the darkness. From being a child assassin. She’s your age, this young version of you that is.” Dazai spoke with hesitance, but the moment a glimmer showed in their eyes, he seemed hopeful.

“Really? She gets free of this? The darkness, I mean… she broke free of those chains?” Dazai nodded, his eyes did not miss the smile over their face the way hope shined in their eyes. “Can I talk to her?” Dazai set his hand on their head before patting their back with a silent nod.

“Go ahead, bask in the light…” Dazai whispered the words too soft to hear.

Tag list:

@pompompurin1028 @cherrytomato2 @ryuukero

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formeandmyfics · 3 years

Text

Jugenea Fic

IN STITCHES

just a short, random, fun one

1956

New Frontier Hotel

Vegas

It was nearing 4 a.m. when Judy turned out the lamp on the nightstand and snuggled into the feather-down comforter of her hotel bedroom. The darkness, along with the fresh, cool sheets, made her immediately drift off into sleep. As she did so, her mind replayed tonight's events.

She was nearing the end of her contracted show at the hotel. Every show had been a success, and with such a great audience, she was having a blast. Unfortunately, that morning, she had come down with laryngitis. She could speak alright; singing, even a slow melody, her voice had come out raspy and trying any loud or high notes sounded like a good impersonation of Mickey Mouse. She panicked. She could not cancel that show, not just because of financial aspects with the hotel, but because she didn't want to have newspapers write more false claims as to why she cancelled, which some columnists had gotten almost venomous since she left MGM. Most importantly, she also didn't want to disappoint her fans.

With Gene's quick thinking, he contacted their buddy Jerry Lewis, whom was in town, and begged him to help Judy out. Fortunately, he came through, but told both of them, "I'm scared shitless. I don't know what to do out there." Judy was nervous, too! She didn't know how the show would pan out or how the audience would react.

Gene had said to her, "They just want to see you. That’s all. You can sit at the edge of the stage and talk to them about the weather and they'd be happy. That's how magnetic you are, so go and use it. Go out there with Jer' and just have fun."

Jerry did his comedy bits, bantered with Judy, leaving her in hysterical laughter, and they interacted with the audience. Jerry also sang some of her songs, in her normal arrangements, including 'Rock-A-Bye' with Judy as his personal cheerleader by his side. The crowd didn't mind at all that she couldn't perform. It was a very intimate evening, and all-in-all, a smash. She was so very grateful.

After the show, she had a late dinner with Gene and a few friends, including Frank and Lauren, who surprised her by showing up to the show. By 2 in the morning, more people started coming around their booth in the bar and the noise was too much for Judy's exhaustion. Gene wanted to stay there with Frank a bit more so he told her to get some sleep. Giving him a kiss goodnight, she went up to the room. After reading a book, she finally got sleepy and head to bed. And boy, it felt marvelous.

In the downstairs lobby, Lauren shook her head, annoyed, as she walked hastily up to the front desk in the hotel's lobby.

"May I use the house phone, please?"

The receptionist nodded, "Here you are ma'am," then placed the phone on the corner for her.

"Thank you." She immediately dialed the Kelly's hotel suite. When there was no answer, she dialed again, but no answer.

"Dammit, Judes," she murmured as she clicked the phone down. She hoped Judy hadn't taken a sleeping pill.

The Kelly's suite was quiet, and dimly lit, as Lauren entered with Gene's key. The double doors to the bedroom were shut, no light coming from beneath them, so Lauren knew Judy was dead asleep. Still, out of curtesy, she knocked before entering. Walking over to the empty side of the bed, she turned on the lamp there.

“Judy,” with no response, Lauren kneeled on the bed and leaned over to softly shake her friends arm, “Judy. Wake up, hun.”

She stirred before turning, a puzzled look on her face, clearly still more asleep than wake, “Betty?”

“Yes, it’s me.”

“What are you doing in my room,” she asked sitting up.

“Something’s happened. Are you awake?”

“What time is it?”

“4. You gotta get up. Gene’s got himself in a dilly,” Lauren said getting off the bed to grab Judy’s silk robe which hung over the vanity chair.

“What do you mean,” she asked alarmed.

“Some drunk asshole kept running his mouth and Gene kept antagonizing him. It ended in a brawl and Gene cut his arm pretty bad.”

Judy bolted out of bed putting her robe on, “Oh my God. Is he alright?”

“He’s okay, but the cut’s pretty deep. He won’t stop bleeding. The bartender gave him a rag to hold on his arm. I told him he needs stitches but he won’t stop arguing with me,” Lauren said as she followed Judy into the living room.

“Where is he now?”

“Downstairs with Frank talking to the house detective.”

“Oh, wonderful,” Judy said upset, “What should I do? I can't go down there like this. Lord knows what would come out in the papers if someone saw us.”

Just then there was a knock on the door and Lauren went over and opened it. Gene came in first, and irritatingly nudged Frank’s hand off his back, as he did so.

“Gene, what the hell have you done now?”

“I’m fine,” he said upset himself before he plopped onto the sofa.

“You’re not fine. You need stitches.”

“I don’t need fucking stitches, Betty. I told you that.”

“Please don’t talk to her like that, let me see,” Judy said sitting next to him.

“Don’t worry about it,” Lauren replied unphased, “He’s cranky and has a gash the size of the Grand Canyon. I think it’s all the blood loss that’s messed with the tone in his voice.”

Judy tried not to smile at Lauren’s sarcasm, but Gene shot her a dirty look as if they were siblings. When Judy got the rag off of his arm carefully, she looked at her husband horrified.

“For Christ sakes, Gene.”

“Baby, I’m okay.”

“You’re not okay. You’re still bleeding. Look at the damn rag. It’s soaked,” she cried out.

“He needs a hospital.”

“He’s not going to a hospital because that’s dramatic and a waste of time,” Frank cut in, “Just call the house doctor.”

“I’m not taking him to the hospital or calling the house doctor,” Judy said getting up and walked across the room towards the phone, “If this gets out, people will think he came down with a Judy Garland ailment.”

“Judy,” Gene yelled shocked, then shot her a look over his shoulder, “That’s not funny.”

With the phone to her ear, she waved him off, clearly had been poking fun at her own expense.

“Who are you calling,” Frank asked.

“Tom Jacobs. He came to see the show tonight and is staying at the hotel,” she said of their doctor friend, a prominent Beverly Hills physician, “Maybe he can come look at Gene.”

“You’re going to wake him up at four in the morning,” Gene asked.

“Yes, so my husband doesn’t bleed to death...Hi, Tom? Hi, it’s Judy. I’m so sorry to wake you up, but I don’t know what to do. I’m alright, but Gene’s got himself in a pickle. He cut his arm pretty bad and we think he need stitches...”

“I DON’T NEED STITCHES,” Gene yelled interrupting her.

Judy continued, looking at her husband upset and yelled back at Gene covering the receiver with her hand, “He DEFINITELY needs stiches! Ok. Yes. Room 209. Thank you, darling. Buh bye.”

She walked on back over to Gene and sat down next to him again, “Why did you antagonize him, especially when you know he’s a drunk. You know I hate that stuff,” she said in a stern, wifely manner.

“If you heard the things he was saying, you would have thrown your martini in his face,” Gene retorted leaning his head back against the couch tired.

“Judging by what he was saying, she would have thrown it on his crotch,” Frank agreed.

“How hammered are you,” Judy asked.

“Scale?”

She sighed impatiently, “1-10.”

“4.”

“I highly doubt that.”

“No,” Lauren interrupted, “He didn’t drink that much.”

“I can attest,” Sinatra added.

When Gene rolled his head to look at her with a ‘see’ expression, she smiled, softening.

“What did the house detective say,” Lauren asked her buddy next to her.

“Threw the guy out and I sweet-talked him and he let us go,” Frank quipped quite proud.

“Are you in pain,” Judy asked sweeping some of his hair back with her fingers.

“No. Can't really feel my arm right now.”

“Can you feel this,” she asked and leaned in to kiss his cheek.

“That I can definitely feel.”

When the doctor came, Lauren and Frank said their goodbyes to give them privacy. Tom looked Gene over and took his vitals.

“Well, here’s the deal, bud,” Tom said, “Your vitals are great. Your blood pressure is just a little high but that’s to be expected after what happened. And your wife is right. You definitely need stitches.”

“Fuck,” Gene said to himself.

Judy looked at Tom and whispered, “He hates needles.”

“Tell ya what, pal, I’m gonna give you some happy juice so while I suture you up, you won’t feel a thing.”

Judy lit herself a cigarette as the doc worked on Gene’s stitches, who looked like he was asleep. She paced slowly back and forth. The movement caught Gene’s eye and his head slowly rolled to look at her. He tried focusing his eyes a moment, and when he did, he made a silly grin.

“Hey, you.”

Judy stopped in her tracks and looked over at him, exhaling.

“How are you feeling?”

“Come here,” he said and reached his free arm out towards her, lazily.

“Gene, don’t move, please,” the doc said looking through his magnifying glasses.

Judy immediately went over and took that hand so he wouldn’t continue to move.

“You’re beautiful.”

Judy let out a surprised chuckle, “Even at the crack of dawn, huh?”

“Is that what it is?”

“Pretty much.”

“You look familiar.”

Judy’s eyes widened and she looked up at Tom who just smiled not lifting his eyes, “Don’t worry about him. It’s the same effect as if he’s coming off anesthesia. He’ll be fine.”

“Well, you look familiar, too,” Judy played along.

“I’m Gene Kelly,” he stated proudly, but still with a slurred speech.

“Nice to get reacquainted, I’m Judy Kelly.”

His smile faded and he furrowed his eyebrows, “We have the same last name? Oh, no, you're not my sister are you?”

Judy let out a laugh but quickly cleared her throat, “No, darling, I’m your wife.”

“What’s your maiden name?”

“What an odd question. You want my maiden name or my given name?”

“Pick.”

“Well, you probably remember me more as Judy Garland.”

“Wait,” Gene went to sit up but Judy pushed him back, “I married Judy Garland?”

“Yeeeees,” she teased.

“Holy shit,” he mumbled to himself which made her laugh again.

“Oh my goodness,” she giggled.

“How long we been hitched?”

“5 years.”

“How can I not remember this? Where have I been this whole time?”

“You’ve been with me...dancing me off my feet and giving me two little Kelly’s.”

“We got kids?”

“Yes, sir,” she said reaching for her cigarette again, “A four-year-old girl and a one-year-old boy.”

“Can I see them?”

“I’m sorry, darling,” she giggled feeling a tad uncomfortable with her husband’s temporary amnesia, “Your parents came and took them home with them a few days ago. We’ll be with them again next week when we leave here. Tom,” Judy said a bit worried, “How long is this going to last?”

“Oh, it’ll wear off in about an hour, if not sooner. It’s a completely normal reaction, Judy, don’t worry yourself.”

“I’m worried he’ll want to re-do our honeymoon and have two more kids in that next hour since he can’t remember,” she teased.

They both suddenly heard Gene softly snoring and Judy felt relieved.

“I don’t think you’re going to have to worry about that. He’s going to have a very restful night’s sleep.”

“He’s such an idiot sometimes,” she said looking at her cute, sleeping husband, “But he’s my idiot.”

#judy garland #gene kelly #jugenea #fan fic

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hitsuackerman · 4 years

Text

Unpredictable (Overhaul x Reader) pt.12

a/n: so... this has a special guest in the middle >:) i hope ya’ll like this~ i was thinking of a good character to add and i found the perfect one. but the character will only stay for probs 3 chapters or so :D

warnings: this cannot be read solo, crossover

Links: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 13

Masterlist to my other fics: here :)

Overhaul’s waiting list: @jjk-biased @infinite-universe-love @dirtypride @blackymomo03 @azzie @purple-rabanito @meximorrita @awesomeee19

“Sit down.”

Now, if that were coming from the person whose face you had just seen you would have obeyed like a puppy waiting for a treat. However, the person inside the room with you carried zero sex appeal. Not an ounce of it. The way he tried to sound sexy was just revolting.

“I’d rather just stand.” You shrugged. “Make this quick. I still have other places to go to.”

“Oh.” He patted the sofa once more before making his way to his desk. “I think you’d want to sit down once I tell you some news.”

With the chief’s back facing you, your eyes rolled and defeatedly went to flop on the sofa. Leaning on to the back lazily. When his chair creaked and sunk, you gestured for him to proceed.

“Regarding the Fukuo Kai case, the meeting will be held 5 days from now, correct?” Your brows furrowed as you fixed your posture. Eyes squinting as to where he had heard that information. He placed his elbows on his desk and tilted his head. A smug look on his face. “Tsukauchi will be taking your place in the stake out.”

“And why is that?”

“You will be attending a meeting with me. The HPSC wants to talk about the arson case.”

“You’re meddling with my cases again.” You snapped. “But, if it pleases you. Okay. However, it won’t be me informing Overhaul.”

Watching as the chief stood up from his desk, he nodded and walked towards you. Filling the emptiness the sofa had to offer.

“It has come to my attention that you two seem rather...close. Rather alarming is it not?”

“Teamwork among the both of us has been going well. Nothing more to it.” What was this germ up to? Your brain couldn’t figure out what his motives were. “I’m being as cautious as I can be. He has not lashed out nor attempted to hurt me in any way unlike the previous people we had to work with.”

“Yet, the mere mention of his name makes you lower your guard down by a significant amount.” Once again, he put his arm behind your neck and squeezed your shoulder. The scent of roses he once had was now replaced with sweat and leather. “You’ve slackened a bit, baby doll.”

Holding on to his wrist, you twisted it as you stood up. Bending it at a weird angle, your eyes bore holes on to his face. The playful fire in his lit up even more. It made you think, did the other women in the precinct go through this? Subtly activating your quirk, you raised his blood pressure.

“You know I’m getting real tired of your shit…” You threatened him. Hand shaking with anger.

Your head snapped to the door when a knock filled the walls. Letting go of his wrist, he rubbed it but the smug look on his face did not falter. Straightening himself and gaining composure once more, he went towards his desk and told the person to enter.

“Right on time. Ms. (L/N), for the next two days, you will be pairing up again with one of the officers from the Kyoto precinct.” His face followed the person who now entered the office. “Mr. Ackerman, we hope you enjoy your stay here.”

You bit your tongue. Internally activating your quirk, you managed to control the blood travelling to your cheeks. You’ve heard about Mr. Ackerman. A few of your previous cases had you teaming up with him. One thing led to another but it was one of your most well kept secrets. One that not even the chief caught scent of.

How many years had it been? Three or four? The scenery was still fresh in your mind. His words that stung and broke you for months. Still, he was a gentleman. Not wanting to diminish the cooperation you two had, differences were set aside and apologies were exchanged. It ended on a rather better note than you had anticipated.

Of course, there was no denying that the sight of Levi still managed to increase the steady pacing of your heart.

“Ackerman.” You greeted him. Eyes focused on the chief. A useless attempt to read him.

“(L/N).” His voice was still the same. Enticing yet dead at the same time.

“Why don’t you two catch up?” The chief gestured for the both of you to leave the office. Hearing both your responses, he watched as Levi motioned for you to leave first and followed behind. Just as you were about to exit, he spoke up. “And, by the way, update Overhaul’s profile. Put in his name.”

Your eyes widened and jaw tightened. Slowly exhaling, you continued walking. When you heard the door closing, you began to feel around your clothes for any sort of mini-chip that he had planted on you. Not feeling anything, your thoughts replayed to all the touching he had done.

“Fuck…”

“Oi, brat. What’s wrong?” Levi asked.

“He fucking bugged me. Eavesdropped on an off the record scenario a while back.” Anger was now boiling in your blood. Not for the chief but for the fact that you failed in detecting his subtle schemes. No wonder he was all touchy this morning. When your eyes met his, his eyebrows shot up and you could see how he put two and two together.

“It’s been three years, he’s still doing those things to you?” The both of you were now walking towards your cubicle. Back when you were dating, Levi could see just how devious the chief was towards you. He may have threatened him once or twice, the scene before him only fused a died out wick. “You could have just told me, you know.”

“I know.” He had told you time and time again that you should watch your back when it came to the man inside the office. Yet you always brushed it off. Basically, you were now reaping the consequences of being ignorant. “You know I hate causing scenes.”

“Tch. Not a single change from you.” There it was. That smirk that made you weak. Pulling your chair for you, he waited for you to sit till he dragged the empty seat next to yours. “What do you have on the arson case?”

Taking out a file, you handed it over to him and gave him the details so far. He simply did the typical Levi gestures. Nodding his head with the occasional comments.

“I’m honestly at a dead end, but Tsukauchi managed to pick up a straw.” You showed him your schedule. “I’ll be meeting up with Endeavor in 4 days. I can keep you updated if you'd like."

"It's fine. I can stay till after the meeting." Typical. Work was always first when it came to him.

"Where are you staying? You can crash the guest room if you'd like."

"You sure? Gei isn't visiting tonight?" That flamboyant man had always amused him but he'd never tell. He did, after all, get a few phrases from the man himself.

"Nope. You're free to crash. It will require you to buy food." You smiled and that sealed the deal. Agreeing, he stood up to take his things from the lockers as you readied to leave the office.

Moments had passed and both of you were now in your car. Levi offered to drive so you gave him the keys.

"You still into (favorite food)?” He asked. Eyes searching for what food to have for dinner. You were the host so your wants came first.

“Nah. Ov-I’ve had it this afternoon. We can go with whatever you want.” You knew where he was going. He would go to Solive Garden. He was always a sucker for their salad and made from scratch soup. Your thoughts were right when he turned on the next corner. The green sign now within sight. Lucky enough, he saw a vacant lot and parked the car.

Meanwhile, the car parked opposite from yours had a rather different aura going on.

“Mimic.” Overhaul threatened the small creature sitting in the backseat. “You had one job and that was to order food from Niller Union.”

“It wasn’t my fault, boss!” He chirped. “They cancelled at the last minute. I already told them that the leader of the yakuza was the one ordering but they just ended the call.”

Massaging his temples, he could feel the hives starting to form due to rage at the small mishap. Somehow, he had found himself in the car with Chrono behind the wheel and Mimic strapped like a child in the back. Perhaps he just needed a change of scenery since he had no interest in demolishing the whole base tonight. Or so he thought.

“Hey… Isn’t that?” Chrono thought out loud to get Overhaul’s attention.

You had just exited your car, with Levi opening the door for you. Seeing how you were all smiles with another male was something he had not expected. More so when the other male was none other than Levi Ackerman. His golden orbs followed as the two of you walked side by side, entering the establishment.

Chrono simply watched his boss through his peripheral view. What would he do in this instance? It was hidden well but he could see Kai slowly appearing from the depths of Overhaul.

“Mimic. Get out of your suit and buy the meal.”

“Aw, c’mon! Just cause your jealous of that lady with Ackerwacker doesn’t mean you get to use me to spy on them.”

Boy, did Chrono wish he had popcorn.

“You caused this mess. Now get the hell out of that suit before I kill you inside this very car. THRICE.”

Incoherent cursing soon followed. Mimic was sporting his true form. Veins popping from anger. Slamming the door, he stomped towards the store before flipping the vehicle off. Now that the two of them were alone, he waited till Overhaul seemingly calmed down.

“They’re probably just teaming up for a case.” Chrono stated. He was secretly living for the moment. It wasn’t too often he’d see the boss in that state. In his mind, he knew that Kai would ask him to trail you till you reach your building.

“Then why the hell is that troublemaker driving her car, Kurono?” His inner thoughts were thinking of scenarios as to why you would spend time with Ackerwacker. That smile you showcased was something he barely got from you. And then we have this shortstack who got it from you effortlessly. “Follow her till she gets home.”

There it was.

“Isn’t she too preoccupied to date?” Conversations were still possible as of the moment. “I thought you were slowly advancing already.”

“She never stated she was single or not.” Not that it mattered. He would do whatever it takes to make you his. No one had ever fallen asleep on the phone with him, spoke to him so freely, or even sent a rather inviting selfie at 11pm. Furrowing his brows at his thoughts, he cleared his throat and let out a sigh. “Forget it. She’s merely a pawn that I can easily replace. Go back to base after this.”

‘He’s back.’ Chrono thought. That was the end of the conversation. But, that small gesture was a sign that he was internally fighting his consciousness. ‘Shit. This is going to be a long night.’

The doors slid open once more. Ackerw-Levi and you were making your way back to your car. You were holding the take out while he held onto the drinks. The two men inside the car watched as the unwanted man stretched out his hand to grab the food from your arms. The car was hella tinted but he could see the small blush growing on your cheek.

Once more, Chrono wished he had some popcorn.

They observed as Levi opened your car door and handed you the food. His jaw tightened and fists clenched when he saw him entering the driver’s side. He was too engrossed that he had not noticed Mimic entering the car. Struggling in the backseat due to his size. When your car revved to life, all 3 men watched as the car left.

Starting the car, Chrono knew his boss’ mind flipped into Kai. Taking his time, he slowly drove out of the establishment.

“Follow them, Kurono.”

- - - -

so... did ya’ll like today’s special guest? xD I love Levi Ackerman so I decided to just use him for the sake of drama huehuehue still :) if ya’ll have comments or questions, feel free to ask :D take care!

#overhaul x reader #overhaul #bnha overhaul #mha overhaul #chisaki kai x reader #bnha chisaki kai #mha chisaki kai #chisaki kai #levi ackerman is god tier and i love him so much #forgive me if i crossover'd for a bit #but it is levi so pls accept my apologies

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wordsfromthesol · 4 years

Text

Promises

Author: @wordsfromthesol Pairing: Dick Grayson Warnings: None? All fluff, all the time. Word Count: 887 A/N: I always think of the reader’s parents being like dead or something (because Gotham) so I never actually remember this is a thing people in relationships do 😂 Also Y/P1/N, Y/P2/N are your parent’s names.

“Hey Dick, what’s up?”

“Y/N/N, don’t hate me. I may need to cancel our date tonight.”

“No.”

“What do you mean no? I promised Timmy I’d help him with a school project.”

“Well you can help him after dinner. You know my parents are coming tonight.”

“Parents.” His voice blunt. “I totally forgot.”

“Hm. Well, I’m sure your brother won’t mind if you help him after dinner.”

“But –”

“Dick, it’s one dinner. They will only be here tonight; they’re driving back to Metropolis in the morning.”

“Okay okay. What time again?”

“I swear, you’ll be the death of me. Meet at mine at 6, we have reservations at 7.”

“See you then.”

Dick hung up the phone and turned to his brother, who clearly just heard everything.

“You sure got out of that ‘no problem’.” Tim teased, adding air quotes around the phrase Dick used earlier.

“Yeah yeah. I still don’t want you going on this stake out alone. Ask Jay.”

“I don’t need a babysitter Dick.”

“I know…but there’s something off about these guys. I can’t place it, just a gut feeling. Please just ask Jason.” Dick coerced his brother before turning to get ready for dinner with your parents.

You were slightly in shock when Dick knocked on your door exactly at 6 o’clock. You’d thought he’d be late for sure…after all he did have a track record.

“You’re on time.” The shock evident in your face as you swung open the door.

“Heh, good impressions and all…” Dick gazed past you, staring at the two figures standing behind you.

“Oh right, Dick, these are my parents, Y/P1/N and Y/P2/N.” You explained as you stepped to the side, letting your boyfriend step out of the doorway.

“Richard Grayson.” Dick elaborated as he held his hand out towards your parents.

“And you chose to go by Dick?” Y/P1/N chuckled as you jabbed your elbow into their side.

“A nickname my parents chose. My way of keeping them close, I suppose.”

“Hmph, well. Should we head out then?” You attempted to quickly change the subject.

You were just waiting for your parents to grill the unsuspecting boy you were dating, and once you finally made it to the table it began.

“So Dick. What do you do?”

“I’m a detective.”

“Oh, for Gotham? Tell me, do those vigilantes do any good?”

“Bludhaven, actually.”

“Eh, you got one of those costumed freaks over there too.”

“Yeah, yeah we do. Uhm…I think they do good. Maybe not in every city, but there are just too many crazies around here for the police to deal with. Plus, the vigilantes probably have way more training than they provide us police with.”

“Well you certainly don’t see too many in the police department that are pro-vigilante.” Y/P2/N chimed in.

“Heh, I’m definitely in the minority.”

“Being a detective and all. Got any high-profile cases? Any of those crazies got a vendetta towards you?”

“Uhm, probably. You never know who someone blames for their misdeeds and shortcomings.”

“So my Y/N, she could be in danger then.”

Dick paused, looking Y/P1/N directly in the eyes, unwavering, “I would never let anything happen to her.”

“My dear, I don’t really think you can make that promise. Given what you’ve just told Y/P1/N and I.” Your hand stretched under the table, reaching for Dick’s. You almost stopped the questioning, but you had to admit you were truly interested in his answer as well.

“You’re right. But I will always do everything in my power to keep her safe.”

“Well. What a conversation. Shall we switch to something more boring, such as sports or the weather?” Your cheery voice cut through the tension surrounding the table. No one took you up on the offer, so you continued. “Look, I trust Dick with my life. I know – god forbid something does happen – he is going to be there. He has an entire police department backing him. Besides, what are the chances someone would specifically target him anyways.”

Dick turned towards you and mumbled, “you know I can never promise you that someone won’t target you to get to me.”

Your hand reached up and cradled his face, “I would never ask you to. It may be scary, but you’re making the city a better place…but do promise me that you’ll also do everything in your power to keep yourself safe.” A half smile donned his face as he nodded at your request. You turned towards your parents. “So now that the two of you have successfully made this uncomfortable…what’s the next topic?”

The rest of the night went surprisingly well. You all ended up laughing and agreeing to meet again, the next time your parents were in town. As you left the restaurant, Dick turned towards you. “If it’s okay, I’m going to head out from here. I just want to make sure Tim is doing okay on his project.”

“Of course.” You smiled at him before leaning in and whispering, “thank you.”

Dick turned towards your parents, “It was great to meet you, I promised my younger brother I’d help him with a school project…so I’m going to meet up with him.” He pressed a quick kiss on your lips before shaking hands with your parents and jogging off in the opposite direction.

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himjopper · 4 years

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the flea & the acrobat (jim hopper fic)

pairing: hopper x reader, stranger things chapter: 1/? chapter rating: teen, 18+ (mention of violence, fear, mild swearing, mention of sexual intentions) summary: you’re an FBI agent from the behavioral analysis unit, living in the big city and enjoying the hustle and bustle of the 80’s crime scene. you’ve worked your ass off to get respect around a male dominated field, earning yourself a promotion as the head of your department after you helped solve a missing persons case that swept the nation just short of a year ago. the case closed, but something happening in a small town in Hawkins, Indiana is making your bones chill with its similarities to your closed case. a young girl, barbara holland, is missing and you’ve got a hunch on how to bring her home. little do you know, Hawkins isn’t exactly textbook and you need the locals’s help. a/n: helloooo!! so I actually only got back into writing literally from just reading all the drabbles and fics on here about hop and I was deserperate to get in there myself. this started as a one shot and bc I have a difficult time uhh shutting up, it became a full fic. pls enjoy and feel free to msg me with ideas and inspiration it helps a ton!! special thanks to @chiefharbour for existing and getting me out of a writers block that had actual cobwebs <3 gif credit: @hawkinslibrary

You loved the city.

You loved the traffic and the sound of cars honking, the occasional couple arguing, the screech of tires and never ending hustle. You loved the constant rain and the way it ruined your hair every morning at 8:07AM when you’d leave your apartment to get your double espresso before you stepped into the office just to be greeted with missing persons case after missing persons case. These were all things you told yourself, every day, every morning, and every night.

On cue, the pager on your hip beeps wildly. An involuntary groan comes from your throat while you try to preview the message and head into the building.

“Scotch, I need to talk to you about the Snake Hole Case-“

Your eyes look up to address the older gentleman in front of you who reeks of too much cologne and cheap cigars; he’s just a detective and he’s never been very confident in your abilities even though you’ve been the lead profiler in your division for the last two years and you have 36 solved cases under your belt.

Regardless, you give him your distracted attention as you both stride hurriedly down the hall leading to the conference room you should’ve been in ten minutes ago. The office is bustling and there’s a fax machine ringing in the distance but your rushed heeled steps are louder even on carpet.

“This better be worth my time, Hayes, I’m late for a meeting as is and I have a phone call with Seattle’s Chamber in fourteen minutes in counting.”

The shorter man quickens his step in attempt to catch up to you. “Snake Hole, the original killer was-“

You cut off his excitement with your bluntness as usual, “Gene Schwartzman, white male, 43-years-old, small town stores clerk, no children, never married, alcoholic, absolute low life...”

Hayes snorts, “Right, but he had a pattern, an obsession with younger women with a specific and detailed description, mirroring his own mother, and that’s why he would retaliate-“

Your heels come to a halt as you step in front of the older detective. His lips are chapped, his bottom teeth have ridges from obsessive grinding, the normally groomed hair is parted in every which way, there’s an ink stain on his dress shirt’s pocket. It’s not like him to be so out of sorts. He was obnoxious, sure, but not messy.

“That case was closed a year ago. What are you trying to tell me, Hayes?”

Nervously, his tongue darts out to lick his lips before he speaks. His voice remains low so only the two of you can hear.

“I think... I think we’re seeing an admirer of Schwartzmen mirroring his case. He never got to finish his pattern-“

“We were able to catch him before the final murder. We solved his puzzle first-“

“Someone in Indiana is trying to finish the job, Scotch. I think you need to see this.”

He holds your gaze for a moment as you’re replaying the details of the Snake Hole case in your memory. His hand grips the manilla folder that he extends out to you.

There’s suddenly an impatient call for you to go into the room just down the hall to join that meeting. You’re already twelve minutes late now and before you can respond, there’s another louder call of your name.

You take the folder from the detective and return his low volume, “Get one of the assistants to cancel the phone meeting I have with the Chamber, you and I need to talk. I want to know what’s going on in Indiana. Get me in contact with the local PD, as soon as possible.”

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Everyone could tell you were distracted the whole meeting. Every second you weren’t looking at the file tucked under your half-assed notes was a second wasted. Your behavior was fidgety and as you clicked at your pen the whole half an hour, you couldn’t stop thinking about the secret admirer Schwartzmen has in Indiana of all places. The original murders took place a year ago in Alabama, made nationwide headlines for weeks and there was even a public memorial for the victims and their families. Schwartzmen confessed on tape and immediately thrown in prison to rot. Everything felt so final. What was the connection to Indiana? You finally got to read over the file on your lunch break with your third coffee before 1PM. Red nails drumming on the wood of your desk, frustrated. There’s a Missing poster of a younger girl, she’s sixteen, decorated with freckles across her face. Round cheeks, even rounder glasses, red hair and seemingly innocent. You hated that the bitter but smart detective Dennis Hayes of all people was going to be right. Unfortunately, Miss Barbara Holland of Hawkins, Indiana fit the description too well. She might even be closest in resemblance to Schwartzmen’s actual mother and it made the acid from your stomach rise up to the back of your tongue.

A knock at your door finally makes your eyes look away from the young girl’s school photo.

“Scotch?”

It’s Hayes and he’s holding two styrofoam cups, hopefully full of caffeine.

“Come in, please, sit.” You wave a manicured hand towards the chair in front of your desk and he takes a seat as he carefully places one of the cups next to your current (and nearly empty) mug.

“I’ll make this short,” Hayes begins. “I know your hands are full with other cases where they’re asking you to profile who kidnapped a dog from a park and robbed a granny at the mom and pop shop at noon-“

You roll your eyes at his brief condescending comment towards your line of work as if he could make his arrests without your insight.

“But you gotta admit, Scotch... the resemblance here is uncanny.”

And it was. Uncomfortably so. She was nearly a spitting image of Schwartzmen’s mother, down to the same yearbook photo we plastered on the screens of every television in America mirrored this young Barbara Holland’s. Schwartzmen was an orphan until the age of 12, he had grown up in his adolescence without a mother and resented the nameless redhead who left him at a church’s doorstep to be found. Angry and feeling abandoned, he grieved the loss of what he never had by murdering young women who resembled the only photo he had of his biological mother: her yearbook photo. The same yearbook photo you cleared with the media to be broadcast to America during the investigation a year ago.

A part of you feels responsible for a split second and there’s a tinge of guilt in your stomach thinking you put her at risk when you let the media have the photo of Schwartzmen’s mother, the very inspiration for all his heinous murders. Did someone see this young girl in Indiana and think she was an opportunity that couldn’t be missed? Was sixteen year old Barbara Holland just an innocent and unfortunate puzzle piece? You’re both staring at the file with some local news from Hawkins along with some notes from the Snake Hole case. It was more frustrating how little Hawkins had on Barbara’s disappearance. It was as simple as one minute was there, the next minute, she wasn’t. Good girl, good grades, good friends, what happened?

You break the thick and focused silence first.

“Did you get me the number for the state police?”

“Indiana State Police don’t have much on it, it’s mainly the Hawkins PD that seems to have more information. It’s a small town. They had two missing kids in the same month-“

Your brow furrowed together, “Two?”

Hayes leans back further in the chair, arms crossed over his chest nonchalantly.

“Young boy, no older than twelve, he turned up alive after some searches, seems unrelated to this case. There’s still no body found for the sixteen year old, goes by Barb. I think we need to get involved.”

This almost makes a snort leave your body.

“We? Hayes, no, I’m going alone.” He opens his mouth to protest but you continue with your voice stern, “I know the Schwartzmen case, I worked on it first hand, I’m going to Indiana. This is just another disorganized killer and the fact it’s only one girl missing gives me some hope. Some sad sack in the Midwest trying to get a shot of fame by comparing himself to Schwartzmen, recreating the profile, maybe make the public wonder if he’s still locked up, whatever. She’s a missing girl, but it doesn’t mean she’s dead. If this is mirroring Schwartzmen and the Hawkins PD hasn’t caught up to that, it’s my responsibility to involve myself to help them be a step ahead.”

Detective Hayes stands up from the chair then with a proud smirk on his face.

“You’re welcome, you know. You can say it.”

You scrunch your nose at him then.

“I could, but I don’t feel like it.”

Hayes chuckles as he turns on his heel to leave your office. “Well, enjoy Indiana, Scotch.”

You grunt in response behind the coffee cup, your lipstick leaving a print on the white foam.

As you’re about to hear the click of your office door closing signaling his exit, Hayes peeps his head back in. “Oh, you’ll have fun talking to that chief of police, by the way. Goes by Hopper, or somethin’ like that. Hung up on me twice and told me to go fuck myself on the third attempt. Seems like a hard ass, so. Maybe flirt a little, show a little leg when you touch down in Hawkins.”

His wink and sneering grin made you sick. Just when you thought this detective was useful. You draw in a patient sigh before looking back at him.

“Detective?” Your hands folded under your chin to appear sweeter.

Hayes steps more into the doorway to listen, he’s already eyed your crossed legs and heeled shoes. Pervert.

“The only time I’m going to show a little leg is before I kick your ass.”

The smile dropped from his face and it was followed by the slight slam of your office door. You smirk to yourself and prepare the arrangements to fly to Indiana to meet with Hawkins PD and hopefully bring Barbara Holland home.

#aaaaaHHHH IDK WHAT I AM DOING BUT I AM PROUD OF THIS???#jim hopper #chief jim hopper x reader #jim hopper x reader #hopper x reader #jim hopper fic #jim hopper fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #crime fiction #fic #flea and the acrobat #chapter 1 #ch1 #fanfiction

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henrikvanderswoon · 4 years

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Double the Kill: A Nancy Drew Play Written by 12-year-old Yours Truly - Readthrough Reactions

Okay, guys, I went through two cups of super strong coffee reading through this thing and I think I can hear colors now so… Have fun reading this!

I sincerely haven’t read this thing in probably ten years and I legitimately forgot almost everything about this play I wrote for myself and my twin/two best friends to perform. We used to write plays for each other all the time, as well as play Nancy Drew games together, so… this was all very fitting.

Anyway, this is a super long one and I APOLOGIZE but also I hope you enjoy reading this thing as much as I enjoyed writing it 😂

Okay, for starters, this story is titled: “Double the Kill” for two reasons that I can remember: (1) someone actually gets murdered, and (2) someone beheaded the Lincoln Memorial statue.

…

You know when you’re in middle school and you’re assigned some topic to research for a project and suddenly you have this stupid amount of knowledge about something you don’t know what to do with?

That’s what happened here.

Anyway.

So, apparently I didn’t know what the word “pervert” was when I was 12 (poor, sheltered creature) so I legitimately named a character Blake Pervey and I’m gonna fling myself into the sun.

Oh my gosh, I wrote up a case profile for this, complete with character roles and everything. Incredible.

Let’s provide that for you guys:

The Case: Billionaire Erving Nickels is holding a benefit concert at the Lincoln Memorial in Washington D.C., where the band “One Love” will be performing. Erv senses trouble, so he calls Nancy Drew and her best friend Bess Marvin to watch out for anything “suspicious.” But about an hour before the concert’s about to start, One Love’s lead singer Terri James is found dead near the Lincoln statue and the head of the statue is gone!

Contact: Erving Nickels - a billionaire who’d arranged the benefit concert. He asked Nancy to come and watch for anything “suspicious.”

Suspects:

Erving Nickels: Goes by Erv, for short. As it turns out, this man has actually gone bankrupt recently. Could he go to desperate measures to gain back his wealth?

Blake Pervey (I still want to die): One Love’s back-up singer. Terri had broken up with him recently because he’d attempted to cheat on her (huh, maybe he really is a pervert after all). Did he murder her to get revenge and take her place as the lead singer?

Lyza Benton: The make-up artist. Lyza is always on the prowl for the next juicy gossip to spill to the press and gain publicity. Could she have killed Terri to create the ultimate story?

Myra “Ryan” Williams: One Love’s guitarist. She was the person Blake had attempted to cheat with, but she’d refused. Terri didn’t believe Ryan’s story and blamed her for everything, which caused the two women to hate each other.

Victim: Terry James

Okay. Already this is a little better than “Murder at Turquoise Inn,” because there are actual suspects with actual motives??? aMAZING.

Wow, Nancy’s a bitch. She didn’t even tell Erving that Bess was coming along.

Erv keeps saying that he thinks something bad is going to happen tonight, and Nancy and Bess are both like,“Can you please explain why?” And he’s like, “I just have a feeling.” Like boi, that’s sketch.

Bess: “Sorry to change the subject, Mr. Nickels.”

Erv: “Please, just call me Erv.”

Bess: “No thank you.”

Bess…I know Erv is a weird name, but…why?

Mr. Nickels is taking Nancy and Bess on a tour, right? And I keep peppering in random facts about the Lincoln Memorial I learned for school and it’s SENDING ME.

“I’ll watch and wait for our groovy band to arrive, while you girls split up and watch for suspicious activity. Now, let’s boogie!”

Asfbadka Erv, no one talks liKE That!

I would just like to take a moment to preface the rest of this post with the fact that I wrote this for me and my friends, and we were always writing the stupidest dialogue for each other because we thought it was hilarious. Um…which hopefully explains lines like these:

(1) No one calls Erv Nickels, the handsome billionaire, “Darling.” Except his mother.

(2) [We’re going to change.] No, don’t change. We like you guys just the way you are. *laughs obnoxiously*

…

I hate myself.

So Blake and Terri arrive in the limo and let me tell ya’ll Blake is definitely flirting with Erv right now and I’m so fucking confused.

Terri: That man’s got problems. I guess money does that to people.

Blake: But we have money and we don’t have problems.

Terri: Maybe it only happens to men.”

Blake: But… I am a man.

Terri: Exactly.

Okay, you can tell my love for writing banter was here from the fuckin get-go.

Oh god, now Blake is flirting with Nancy. Fuckin hell. I may not have known what the word “pervert” was when I was 12, but this man was aptly named.

Suspicious, suspicious.*Mocking* ‘Can you girls watch for anything suspicious?’ Something suspicious, yeah right. Oh look! A BUG. Oh, soooo suspicious.

Bess…. I love you.

Okay, as dumb as everything is in this thing, some of this dialogue is fucking cracking me up so hard.

Bess: No! Honestly. I swear, it’s almost like he’s trying to keep us busy so something bad can happen.

*A faraway scream cuts in from offstage*

*Nancy and Bess look off in the direction it came from, way too casual*

Bess: What was that?

Nancy: I dunno.

*They pause, then their eyes widen in realization*

Nancy: Oh crap.

Listen, I know I’m a comedic genius, but this is getting out of hand. Dsbfsjkdsjfbk

Bess: Mr. Nickels! What woman was screaming so high like that?

Erv: That was me.

I CAN’T BREATHE.

I saw Terri lying there on the floor, apparently dead.

Erving… the woman is DEAD. What do you mean “apparently?”

Nancy and Bess find a letter Terri was going to give to Erving to tell him she can’t do the concert because she also felt like something terrible was going to happen to her, and all Bess can do is repeatedly laugh at the word, “Flee.”

Hey, too bad “Honest Abe” is missing his head, otherwise he could tell us whodunnit.

Wow, yall. Bess is my favorite.

You know, the funniest thing about this is that you can definitely tell how many of the games I played between writing my horrible novel at the age of ten and writing this. If this thing had better dialogue and more fleshed out story/characterization, I could picture this as an actual game, not gonna lie.

And… maybe if it didn’t involve removing the whole-ass head of the Lincoln statue…

Yanno, tiny details like that.

Lyza: *laughing* Scared you, didn’t I?

Bess: Oh, “scared’"is such a strong word. I’d say more… "severely startled.”

So Erving reveals to Nancy that he’s actually not dumb as bricks, but puts up the facade because he’s broke and doesn’t want anyone thinking he’s not still super rich and air-headed. I’m crying.

You sensed something bad was going to happen. You should have called the police to stand guard! Not some amatuer teenager who calls herself a detective and her little friend!

…. The pervert has a point.

So Lyza likes to meddle in people’s business. Ryan had written about Blake’s advances in her journal and Lyza blackmailed her about it, Terri blamed Ryan for Blake’s attempted cheating. Blake tried to bribe Ryan into going out with him by telling her he’d discovered a way to get his hands on a fabulous collection of priceless jewels, and Terri broke it off with him. He’s upset, Ryan’s pissed that Terri thinks she went along with Blake, Erving borrowed money to organize the benefit concert (in order to benefit himself) and now he’s in even deeper debt because the concert has been cancelled and Lyza is having a fuckin field day.

BOY AM I ON BOARD FOR THIS SHIT.

Before he came into wealth, Erving worked in a museum in Chicago, and Bess finds a piece of paper on the floor of Ryan’s trailer with the phone number to this exact museum. Nancy calls to see if there is any connection between that museum and the Lincoln Memorial and apparently there’s a theory that the head of the Lincoln statue contains jewels that the museum talks about in a part of their exhibit.

*kronk’s face* Oh yeah. It’s all coming together.

Nancy: For all I know, you could be the murderer.

Erv: Why would I do that? I needed the money from the concert!

Nancy: No you didn’t. You could’ve just–I dunno–stolen the head of Abe over there in search for the ALLEGED JEWELS INSIDE.

Ya’ll… please don’t ask me how the FUCK one person would get tools to remove that head without anyone noticing. Please.

Blake: Hey, guys, have you seen Ryan anywhere?

Nancy: Why? You gonna ask her out again?

Kjdbfisfdosidnf FUCKIN’ SAVAGE, NANCE.

oH MY GOD THE CULPRIT SLIPPED UP SO EASILY I’M SCREAMING.

oH my god, Nancy told Erving they needed something to pick the lock on one of the trailers and he’s all: “Like a bobby pin?” And just takes off his hat, removes a bobby pin, and “lets his long hair cascade down and over his shoulders like a waterfall” and I’m crying. I can’t fuckin’ breathe.

Oh shit, wait… the first culprit was actually covering for the real culprit all along I’m losing my mind. My twelve-year-old brain was so advanced I just threw a curveball at myself sjdbfshdbfagh

Okay, so I’m not gonna spoil anything because I think it’s hilarious to keep you all wondering what the fuck is going on and who the hell did it and why, but I would just like you all to know that this play literally ends with one of the characters singing Hannah Montana’s “The Best of Both Worlds” completely off key because I thought it would be hilarious and I think that really tells you a lot about who I am as a person.

#I'm so sad I dont have more things to live react to cause holy shit is this so much fun jxnzjznsksks #nancy drew #nd humor #nancy drew humor #clue crew #long post #have fun guys this went way longer than I'd expected it to jxbsjjsja

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