#listen. sans is not a violent person

[dimonds456]

If you told post-pacifist ending Sans that he was the final boss of the geno run, and/or that he's the hardest boss to beat in the Underground, he would not fucking believe you

[theheirofthesharingan]

Are there any silly or interesting Itachi/Sasuke/other character headcanons you've always wanted to share?

Some of these will be Modern-AUish, some canon compliant, and some Akatsuki AU.

Whenever Sasuke sees something that's interesting to (only) him as a child he rushes to Itachi to share it. Itachi is his go-to person whenever he wants to share something. Itachi sometimes lets Sasuke's excitement slide because he's too busy/too tired, and little Sasuke is infuriated. He expresses his fury in form of stomping his feet, walking around the house with a pout. He keeps yelling in front of Itachi's room that no one loves him and genuinely looks sad. No one understands why Sasuke is acting so weird until Itachi picks on it and gives Sasuke some treat. It's super easy to please him.

Itachi is a bad cook. Sasuke is even worse. That's why whenever their parents aren't home, Itachi cooks and Sasuke waits instead of helping him. One time when Sasuke "helped", it almost invited disaster. Itachi swore to never let Sasuke in since then. Sasuke is super salty because what he did at 12 shouldn't be held against him, right? Itachi won't listen. Their parents have no idea about it. So, whenever Itachi cooks something in his millionth attempt, certain that he made the dish perfect, Sasuke always shoots him down with "I've had better". Though later at night he sneaks into the kitchen to finish the rest, because why not.

Sasuke likes to hang out with Madara, but he's always been scared of the old man. Sasuke says he looks good only when he's not speaking or smiling. He always hides behind Itachi whenever Madara is visiting them. Itachi often uses it against Sasuke when he won't let him finish his work. "Go to sleep, Sasuke, or Madara uncle will come." It's an inside joke and Madara is definitely not pleased because he loves kids. He doesn't want to be the bad guy in Sasuke's eyes.

Both the brothers love to go on long cycle rides, especially in summers.

Naruto and Sasuke have a lot of sleepovers. Whenever Sasuke has to go to Naruto's house, Itachi drops him there. And when Naruto has to come to Sasuke's house, they want Itachi to tell them horror stories. Not overly keen on scaring them both, he tries to evade, but Naruto wouldn't listen. To set the mood, all the lights are kept off, and as soon as Itachi starts, Naruto hides himself in covers, and Sasuke rolls his eyes. Although later at night neither Naruto nor Sasuke want to go out alone to pee. Sasuke is just as scared as Naruto. He just doesn't want to show.

Minato and Kushina love both the brothers. Because of them their families are super close as well. Occasionally, Minato would take all the three kids to some other city/fun place, and come home super exhausted, because Naruto and Sasuke are a menace.

When they're kids, and Mikoto and Fugaku have to leave for a few hours, Kakashi and Yamato have to babysit them. Kakashi hates it because he'd rather be reading his books, but Yamato loves spending time with them. He loves to spoil both the kids. Sasuke just ends up pulling Yamato's hair and also tries to pull Kakashi's mask. But he can't.

Itachi has a Danzo plushie, decorated with red marks and is beaten down badly as if Itachi likes to punch it every time he's mad. Mikoto is horrified because since when her sweet child become this violent. Fugaku gives Itachi a treat when he learns this. Sasuke just likes to pull Danzo plushie's ears because they're fun to him.

Sasuke hates Shisui and Izumi at home. They steal the time he can spend with his nii-san. But when Itachi is not home, Shisui takes Sasuke with him and they train and Shisui deliberately loses his matches. Sasuke tells everything to Itachi with glee that he defeated Shisui when they trained together. Sasuke grudgingly admits to himself only that he likes spending time with Shisui too, but he won't ever feed Shisui's ego, because his nii-san is still the best.

Kisame is another person Sasuke is scared of. But he gets to like him. If anything, if ever Sasuke is mad at his brother, Kisame sides with Sasuke, and tells his brother how terrible of a big brother Itachi is. One day, Sasuke spent exactly 30 minutes complaining about Itachi to Kisame. And obviously, Kisame lectured Itachi that evening.

Being Itachi's little brother, Sasuke is the unofficial member of the Akatsuki. He has his own tiny Akatsuki robe. He doesn't understand why he doesn't get "dangerous" missions like his brother does. They tell him he's the most important person in the Akatsuki, so he must get special treatment. They keep all the gory shit out of his knowledge.

Sasuke really, really dislikes Kakuzu. He also finds Hidan weird. He wants to protect his brother from Deidara because Deidara just seems like he's obsessed with his brother. Itachi must be protected from him.

The people Sasuke loves in the Akatsuki after his brother are Konan and Sasori. Sasori makes puppets/toys for him (without all the blood and stuff) and gifts them to Sasuke. Konan is like a mom to him. In Itachi's absence she takes care of Sasuke.

[fizzyapplecandy]

The eyes are the mirror of the soul

Based on your votes, this is the first story! The other two will come along soon.

Enjoy X

Ateez San X Fem Reader

Police detective San

Genre: Angst, Horror, Drama, Fluff, Strangers to Lovers, Mature scenes and language

Words: 7.8k

You thought breaking up with your boyfriend would be simple. After six months together, four of them showed you how much of a psychopath a person can be. However, when you saw on the news that several women died with features similar to yours, you assumed it was a coincidence. When the first letter arrived in the mail, you knew you were screwed. The cops eventually became involved with your life. One detective, Choi San, was assigned to be your personal bodyguard. He was confident you were safe, but the darkest evil always finds its way into someone's home.

"I've told you about a thousand times, stop calling me! I don't know how you manage to reach my number over and over! Just stop it!"

I hung up the phone, again, and rubbed my tired eyes. It was 2 a.m. and I was severely stressed. My ex, Jaehyun, has been calling me for about a month now, trying to get back together with me. Never in a million years did I think we would end up in this position. It was almost perfect for about two months. We met randomly in a cafe when I spilled my drink on his shirt. After apologizing profusely, he told me I could make it up to him with a date, and I did just that.

We had it good, seeing each other almost every day, texting until the sun came up, going around and exploring various places... It all came to an end when he started changing. It was like he became a completely different person. There were times when I feared he would become violent, but luckily he managed to bang up almost every surface of mine and his apartment, instead of my face.

After I gently broke up with him, he seemed fine. How wrong of me to assume something like that. I haven't had a good night's rest in a while, and it was messing with my head all the time. I work as an assistant in a private language school, so my boss and the other teachers are a bit lenient with me. I'm lucky to have support in that area, otherwise I would be jobless as well. In all of my 27 years on this planet, I've never felt this afraid.

I became paranoid after the break up. I kept seeing shadows out of my second story window, but I blamed the lack of sleep for that. The misplaced items in my flat were also blamed on that, too.

I poured myself a glass of wine and sat on my couch. The TV was on, playing some kind of sitcom. I couldn't bring myself to laugh, even when I found the jokes funny. It became too depressing so I switched around the channels.

"...this is the second victim found in a similar position as the first one a week prior. It appears it was a woman in her late twenties, with her long hair cut short, eyes gouged out. The missing hair and eyeballs are yet to be found..."

Now that was creepy. What kind of freak takes someone's eyes out? I remember Jaehyun saying the eyes are mirrors to one's soul, and mine were his favorite ones. My eye colour changes in the sun, so he loved taking pictures of my eyes when we were outside. Funny how that came to me while listening to this tragedy.

I twirled around a strand of my hair. Jaehyun always told me I should get a haircut, to make myself more mature. I loved my luscious locks, I've taken good care of them over the years.

I shook my head. Why was I thinking about this now? Maybe it was the wine affecting me. I should really stop drinking so late. With another long sign I grabbed the remote to turn the TV off when an image flashed on the screen. It was a picture of the latest victim, followed by the previous one.

My breath got caught in my throat.

The two pictured were side by side, and if I turned my head to the left I would see my graduation picture framed by the TV.

The resemblance between the three of us was astonishing. But that was only a coincidence, right? There is no way...

I shook my head and plugged the TV out of the wall. I wasn't taking any risks now. I speed-walked to my bedroom and shut the door, locking it as well.

There goes another sleepless night for me.

.

.

"Good morning Mrs Jung, how are you today?"

"Oh, good morning dear! You know me, my old bones are giving me a hard time."

I smiled at my elderly neighbour. Mrs Jung was widowed last May, but she's been a fighter ever since. I love meeting her in the morning when I pick up my mail from downstairs.

She waved at me and went out, probably to buy some more cat food for Simon.

I looked through my mail as I went up the stairs and noticed the usual. Phone bill, electricity bill, magazine subscription... I paused on the steps when I reached a black envelope. It was smooth, almost like it was made of suede. What in the world?

I ran to my apartment and threw the other bills on the counter. I ripped the top of the envelope and found a note inside.

My blood ran cold as I read the familiar handwriting.

"Dear, beloved, worshipped Y/N,

Long time no see baby! I've been missing you this whole time! But, you see, I've found a way to look into your gorgeous eyes again. It may be unconventional, but it works. Those two ladies have nothing on you though. I want you to know that.

Y/N, you're the one baby. And I believe you are going to do the right thing and submit yourself to me soon, unless you want more innocent girls to go missing.

I don't want to bore you with details, this is not why I'm writing to you.

You look amazing baby, even better than before. The view from your window is gorgeous.

You'll find a way to contact me, right? You'll make this work? You better do Y/N. If you know what's right for this world.

                                                 Yours truly, J. "

Oh my God. Oh my God!

My hands started shaking like crazy and I dropped the letter on the counter. I think I was about to pass out before I hit the wall behind me. I slowly slid down to the cold kitchen floor and covered my ears. This has been my panic response since I was a child. I tried to tune out everything to keep myself calm, but I couldn't.

This lunatic was going around murdering girls that reminded him of me? What on Earth was I supposed to do now?

I felt myself spiraling even more. There were telltale signs of a panic attack coming in. I haven't had one of those for months. I knew I had to stop it before it got even worse, so I crawled towards the freezer and got out an ice pack. The shock of the cold pack on my legs and arms brought me back to reality. It was enough for me to grab my phone and dial the police.

"Seoul Police Station, how can I help you?"

"I need to report a potential murderer."

.

.

"So, miss Y/N, this will be the agenda from now on. You will be escorted at all times, knowing the killer is infatuated with you we believe he will try to strike you down sooner rather than later. Our detectives are working on locating him, but in the meantime your life will stay the same as always. He can't notice something is off about you."

I nodded and waited for him to continue.

"It will be suspicious to have our detective in uniform trailing behind you everyday, so we have to make it look like you two know each other on a more personal level. Mr Choi is the best detective we have in our station, and he has gladly accepted the job."

I was like a broken doll at this point, only nodding and staring straight ahead.

For the past two days since my phone call, I've been in and out of the station. We've established that the letter was sent by Jaehyun, since he wasn't careful about leaving his fingerprints. He wanted everybody to know it was him. He was connected to the killings and there was a warrant for his arrest. The media wasn't notified yet, because my life would be endangered even more if they put me in the spotlight.

I was nervous about meeting this detective, who was going to become my live-in boyfriend. Officer Jung saw how nervous I was so he told me to wait in the room. He was going out to get my new boyfriend.

After a while, the door to Mr Jung's office opened. I expected him to walk in as well, but when I turned around my mouth almost hit the floor.

He was beyond gorgeous.

The man lifted his hand in a wave and smiled.

"Hi there. Y/N, right? My name is Choi San. I'm your new bodyguard of sorts."

I slowly stood up and crossed my arms over my chest.

"Yeah... I'm Y/N. My ex is the psycho killer. Sorry, that was a really bad introduction."

San chuckled and closed the door.

"I know this isn't very convenient for you, and it will probably be messy, but it's for your own good. I will try to be the best fake boyfriend I can. I'm not messy, I clean up after myself and I make a killer lasagna. So, all in all, I think we'll do just fine."

I smiled lightly and nodded.

"I guess so. I'm sorry about all of this... I kind of feel it's my fault. If I hadn't broken up with him then maybe he wouldn't have done all of this." 

San stepped closer to me and shook his head.

"Hey now, stop that. You aren't responsible for someone's bad decisions. The guy is sick in the head and who knows, maybe you would have been his first victim. It's not going to be easy, but I promise you, I will do everything in my power to protect you. You have my word Y/N."

We looked into each other's eyes and I think I stopped breathing for a second. San's gaze was intense, and I felt like he was looking right into my soul.

"I must admit, you do have pretty eyes."

I froze for a second and San noticed my rigid posture.

"Sorry, that was tasteless of me. Too soon I assume?"

I nodded slowly.

"Yeah... It's fine. Thank you."

We went back to staring at each other when the door opened again. Officer Jung walked in with a stack of papers.

"So, I take it you kiddos introduced yourselves. Now, let's go over the plan once more, shall we?"

.

.

"You can put your bag in the spare closet down the hall, it will fit all of your clothes as well. I bought you some new towels and a toothbrush for some reason, even though you probably have your own. There is a guest room across from mine, I put a mattress in there because I usually use it as a home office, so I don't have another bed. I hope that's not a problem. I guess some nights you might want to sleep in my bed, it's only fair."

San came with his things a couple of days later, ready to start this whole journey of catching my psycho killer ex. How my life became a blockbuster, I have no idea, but it is what it is. He set down his bags beside my couch and looked around.

"Nice place. I like the whole vibe, it's homey. And, Y/N, you do realise we have to sleep together?"

My eyes widened just as his did.

"No, no. I didn't mean it like that. Sorry. We have to sleep in the same bed, together. That's what I meant."

I nodded and waved him off.

"Yeah, yeah, I got that. But why?"

I was a bit nervous to share a bed with a complete stranger. After everything happened with Jaehyun, finding another man wasn't on my agenda. I suppose this was a completely different situation.

"I have to be next to you to make sure you are safe. Besides that, we have to be convincing. If he is watching you, he will notice my absence in normal, relationship things, so we have to make sure it looks like the real deal. I'm sorry, hopefully it won't last long. My sole purpose is to make sure you are safe, and that bastard gets locked up in the end."

I nodded in understanding. I knew San was right, so I had to suck it up and share a bed with him.

"Okay, but I'm on the left side because I've always slept there, no negotiation."

He chuckled and picked up his bags.

"No problem, I prefer the right side actually. I'm gonna go put these away and then we can sit and talk this through one more time."

"Do you want some coffee? Or tea?"

"Coffee would be great, thanks."

I went to make us two cups of coffee while he unpacked his stuff. After I poured us some much needed caffeine, I put the cups on the living room table and sat on the couch. I always have a blanket draped over the seats, so I pulled it over my legs. I could hear him rummaging around, and after about 15 minutes he joined me on the couch.

San was an attractive man, that much I could notice. He had this calm aura around him, which made me wonder how he got into this world of crime and murders.

"You know, if you want to ask me something, you can. I can feel you staring at me."

Good God. My cheeks flared up and I took a sip of my coffee to collect myself.

"Sorry. It's a bad habit. I was just wondering... How come you decided to be a detective? I assume this job can't bring you any good memories. I work as a teacher's assistant. The job brought me more joy than anything else in the world. I can't imagine..."

San could tell I was struggling to come up with a way to ask him about his job, so he stepped in to help.

"Hey, I get it. This line of work isn't for everybody. You see horrible things, but at the same time, you are the one stopping them from happening. My dad used to be a cop in our small town, but then he got shot. Drug arrest gone wrong. His shoulder never recovered, so he had to retire. He owns a taekwondo studio now. I trained there before I went to the academy. I think part of me does this job because of him. I never imagined they would promote me to be a detective, but I've always had a knack for solving the unsolvable. So, here I am now."

Impressive. San looked about my age, so becoming a detective this young had to be a huge accomplishment in his life.

"That's... Wow. Good for you. But how do you handle all of this?"

He took a sip of his coffee before answering.

"I guess you get used to it. We are trained by a psychiatrist on how to handle these tough situations. Yes, we solve cases and save people, but there comes a time when you can't be faster than your enemy. These killers and stalkers are smart, at times smarter than us. You have to calculate their steps even better than they do. Thinking one step ahead has saved so many people. Other times, it goes to show that we are still human, and we can't predict every step they take."

I shivered and pulled my legs closer to my chest. Is he saying that as a warning? That maybe...

"Hey now, I can feel you overthinking. We've got this in the bag. That bastard won't take a single step into this apartment. Not one step close to you. I won't allow it Y/N. You're safe with me."

I looked at San and took a deep breath. The determination on his face was unmistakable. He wanted Jaehyun to be locked up, and so did I.

"Thank you, San. I know that, and I do trust you. It's just hard. I never imagined myself in this situation. And those poor women... I can't help feeling a bit guilty."

He shook his head and put his cup on the table, turning towards me fully.

"You can't be responsible for someone's actions. This is solely his doing. He didn't have to do this, but he chose to. You can't read his mind, and you can't predict these things. He's a lunatic, and you are lucky you escaped on time. Let me tell you something about his character. He's doing this without thinking it through. That's good for us because we can gather evidence to lock him up for good once he's caught. It seems like he wants to be caught, but he has to get to you before that. This is where I come in. Once he's vulnerable, he's mine and no one else's."

"Do you think... He wants me dead?"

San sighed and took one of my hands in his. My eyes widened slightly, but I didn't pull away. It felt nice. His touch was warm, and it felt sincere.

"He wants you, that much is fact. I don't think he particularly wants you dead, but he isn't sane enough to make that decision. He may want you beside him, but one rash move and you're gone. I'm telling you again, that won't happen, and I want you to try not to think in that direction."

He gently squeezed my hand before letting go. He stood up and stretched. His white shirt went up and I could see the outline of his hard abs. The man was going to be the death of me if I continued slobbering over him like this.

"I'm gonna go take a shower, you put on a cartoon to pump up your mood a bit. I know The Powerpuff Girls are on Channel Three. Don't ask how I know that, it's embarrassing."

I could see his cheeks becoming a bit pink and he all but ran to the bathroom.

Tough detective San watching the Powerpuff Girls? I bet Bubbles is his favorite.

With a laugh, I turned on the TV to search for Channel Three, but I was abruptly cut off by the News Station. I wish I wasn't.

"...the body was found behind a bar, eyes gauged out like the previous two victims. Everything points to the same perpetrator. Police are on the scene, carefully directing people away from the alley. This is the third woman found in a month, and the killer left a message next to her. In what we assume was the victim's blood, there was the number '12' hastily written on the pavement..."

Twelve. As the number on my apartment door.

"Hey Y/N, where did you say the towels were? In the closet or..."

San stopped talking when he saw my frightened expression, the grip on my TV remote and my wide eyes. He looked at the TV and realised what was going on. He walked up to me, turned the TV off and pulled me up.

"Y/N, listen to me carefully. Go into your bedroom and find me a blue hair clip. Do you have something like that?"

I nodded. A blue hair clip? What does he want with that?

"Okay, can you answer me in words?"

"I... Yes. I have one."

"Good girl. Now, go find it."

I felt like my body went into autopilot. I rushed to my bedroom and sat by my vanity. I could see my expression in the big mirror. I looked terrified. But I couldn't dwell on that too much, because I had to find the hair clip. After rummaging around my bags, I pulled out a tiny blue butterfly clip. I forgot I had this, it must be ancient. I felt relieved as I stood up to go take it to San.

Just as I turned around I saw him leaning on the doorframe of my bedroom.

"Feeling better now?"

Huh? I guess I do feel...

"Wait. This was some kind of tactic?"

He smiled and nodded.

"I had to distract you. It's best to put a person into a completely different situation so that your brain focuses on something else. I don't know why I came up with the hair clip, but I had to think of something. You were going into a panic attack it seems?"

I reached out my hand and placed the clip into his open palm. He twirled it around while looking at me.

"Yeah... Ever since this whole thing started they've been coming and going. I can manage them sometimes, but this one was tough. He wrote my apartment number next to that poor woman, San. He's insane."

San put the clip in his jean pocket and placed his hands on my shoulders.

"Y/N, we're going to get him, I promise. Please, go get some rest. I'm gonna take that shower now and I'll be in bed soon. Make yourself comfortable, and leave the right side free, will you?"

I chuckled and nodded.

"I sleep on the left, remember?"

.

.

"So this lock has a code system, and it has to have four digits. Think of something you won't forget easily, but at the same time, it has to be something Jaehyun doesn't know."

San was installing my new lock, and I was trying to be helpful by holding the flashlight over his head. Last night was... Interesting to say the least. I knocked out before he came out of the bathroom, so I spared myself of the embarrassment of our first night together. However, when I opened my eyes in the morning, I could feel his arm draped around my stomach, holding me. I wiggled out quietly and kept silent when he asked me if everything was okay during the night.

I didn't want to make him heel awkward, I could do that for the both of us.

After breakfast, we went down to a hardware store to buy another lock and key. San already had the security system, so we've been at it for some time now.

"When is your birthday?"

He turned towards me and quirked an eyebrow.

"My birthday?"

I nodded and turned off the flashlight.

"That's something he won't know for sure. I mean, he doesn't even know your name so it's the only logical option."

"You think you'll remember it?" He smirked and stood up. He towered over me, and in the small hallway space, I felt like he was a step away from pushing me against the wall.

"If my life depends on it, I think I will."

I swallowed the lump in my throat and looked into his eyes. We stared at each other for some time before his phone rang.

"I have to take that, you punch in the code three times. It's 1007."

With that, he looked me up and down again before disappearing into the bedroom to take the call.

I felt like I could breathe again. After entering the code, I locked the door and went into the kitchen for some water. San was taking a long time with the call, so I assumed it was important. Judging by his expression when he came out, it only confirmed my suspicion.

"That was officer Jung. I need to go down to the station. Jaehyun left a message in front of the station. I think he's onto us, but I could be wrong. It may be a warning to the police."

He looked at the floor and took a deep breath.

"Well... What did he leave? Was it like the letter he sent me? Did he do something like that?"

"Ah... I don't think you want to know."

I pushed myself to walk right in front of him.

"Tell me. I need to know."

San looked into my eyes, an apologetic expression marring his face.

"He sent them a pair of eyeballs. They don't know if it's another victim, or one of the older ones. He said the eyes weren't of use to him anymore, but he wanted to keep the rest for now."

I think I'm about to puke my lunch out. I closed my eyes and put my hands over my ears. This was not the time for a panic attack. Before long, I felt San's hands go over mine. The additional weight brought me a sense of relief. I opened my eyes to look into his concerned ones.

"Don't worry, you don't have to make me look for blue hair clips, I've got this one." He smiled and put his hands down.

"So I assume they want you to look into it?" He nodded.

"Yeah. Are you okay with being alone? I know the sun is about to set, but I'll try not to take long."

"It's fine. This is your job after all. Go, the faster you leave, the quicker you'll come back." With a final nod, he went to the door, put on a jacket and his shoes and turned towards me.

"Be safe. I'll call you when I'm on the way back." I waved him off.

"Yeah, yeah. Go be a detective." He smiled and out he went.

It was a bit creepy after he left. I couldn't shake off the weird feeling of being watched, but I knew I was safe in my newly equipped apartment. I noticed the stack of papers on my kitchen counter. I haven't looked into my mail all day. San was the one who brought it up, but we didn't go through it since his hands were already full.

I sorted out my bills and pamphlets when I reached another black, almost suede, envelope.

This has to be a joke.

With a sigh, I opened up the second letter.

"My dear Y/N,

I'm a bit angry with you. We are separated for only a month, and now someone is moving in with you? Are you that desperate? He isn't even that handsome, but I couldn't really tell. He better watch out though. I don't like sharing what's mine.

I can't wait to be with you again baby. I've missed looking into your eyes terribly. Those other ladies don't stand a chance against you.

Why don't you write me back? You know my address. It's true that I don't spend time there anymore, but I'll check for your response for sure.

Take care baby, we'll meet again soon.

                                                                With love, J."

.

.

"So we know he is lurking around the neighborhood, but we can't tell his exact location. He's moving around too much, but the bastard knows how to hide."

Officer Jung was a man in his late forties, married for twenty years with a son and daughter. He's been in the police force since he was twenty-one, but he's never had a case like this. Jaehyun was a dirty bastard, and he was as sly as a snake. He was giving them a hard time, but there wasn't a crime Officer Jung wasn't able to solve.

San admired his determination. He was like a role model to him, as his parents live in the countryside and he doesn't see them as often. It seems like this case was affecting Mr Jung more than any other. San could say the same thing. In the small amount of time he's spent with you, he could tell you were a lovely person. You just had this spark following you, a pep in your step without even noticing, and your eyes were truly incredible. He was afraid of getting attached to you too soon, but he couldn't stop it even if he tried.

"Y/N called me. He's left another letter for her. He knows I'm with her. He's directly threatening me, but he doesn't seem to know I'm working for the police."

Officer Jung nodded.

"That's good. We'll keep it that way. That poor girl must be frightened. You're free to go, son. Go take care of Miss Y/N. I assume you two have become acquainted?" He had a small smirk, and a suggestive wink told San all he needed to know.

"Officer, with all due respect, we aren't in an ideal situation to be talking like that. I'm doing everything I can to make Y/N feel at ease, but it doesn't seem to be working."

"I get that boy, but you have to understand the poor lady. She's a direct target. Go home and make sure she knows we're catching this bastard."

San shook hands with Mr Jung and made his way outside to his car. The Sun had set an hour ago and he knew Y/N was probably wondering where he was.

Never has he felt such a strong attraction towards someone as he does with her. From the moment he laid eyes on her he knew he was screwed. Now he was terrified of what could happen. Without taking his eyes off the road he dialed her number. After two rings her angelic voice answered.

"Hey San. Are you coming back?" I'm speeding back, doll.

He held it in and replied calmly.

"Yeah, sorry about that. We had to have a meeting. But I'm gonna be there in about 15 minutes, so hold on tight. You did a good job today, staying alone." She chuckled, and it made San smile.

"Well I didn't have much of a choice. I cooked dinner in the meantime. I heard you make a killer lasagna? Well, I think you might have some competition buddy."

"We'll see about that. Do you need me to pick up anything on the way?"

"No! I mean... No. Just come home, I'm at my maximum here."

Home. He hasn't heard that one in a while. It sounded nice coming from her.

"Don't worry, I'm coming as fast as I can. Cut me the biggest piece of lasagna you can." Y/N chuckled and cleared her throat.

"Coming right up sir!" She hung up the phone without knowing how much of an impact her simple words had on San.

Boy, was he in trouble.

.

.

A week has passed by without trouble. No new murders on the news, no letters, no calls from the station. Everything seemed to be going just fine.

Except the sheet amount of sexual tension between herself and San.

It was undeniable. Every time he passed by her in the kitchen to grab something he would put his hand on her hip. When she walked into the bathroom, he was just about to exit, towel wrapped around his waist, water dripping down his hard chest. The heat was on as the weather got colder, and she was walking around in tiny shorts which made San blush every time she bent down to pick something up.

The fleeting glances, the not so subtle touches, the rosy cheeks every time they are beside each other in bed... It all came to a culmination one Saturday morning.

San was always looking for something to hug while he slept. After your first night together you brought a pillow for him to embrace. This time, neither one of you even thought about bringing that stupid pillow to bed.

During the night, you two naturally gravitate towards each other. In the morning, while the sun tried to pry its way into the room through your blinds, San had his arms wrapped around you from behind. You woke up first, feeling hot all over. Your thin shorts weren't a big enough barrier between your ass and his rock hard length.

You were at an impasse. Do you wiggle out of bed and pretend like nothing happened, or, do you let yourself be caught in his embrace and finally give into the desire you two feel for each other? It seems like San was ready to answer the question for you.

You could feel his strong arms tightening around your mid section, his big palm caressing your stomach. You could hear him letting out a big sigh.

"Y/N... Are you awake?"

You could never get enough of his morning voice.

"Yeah..."

"Y/N, I hope you don't take this the wrong way, but... If you don't stop moving around I won't be able to control myself."

Without answering, you slowly moved your hips over his hard-on. San grunted and you were on your back in a second. He was hovering above you, his angelic face illuminated by the morning light.

"You're really asking for trouble, you know?" You lifted your brow.

"Me? You're the one running your hands all over me." He laughed and laid his head on your chest, putting his arms around you again. He was like a big cat, invading your space with his warmth.

"You're going to get me in so much trouble." His voice was a bit muffled with his face squashed between your breasts.

"Hey, you're the one feeling me up."

"I told you I can't control that! Besides, you are too soft to resist."

"So what are we going to do about that?"

He lifted his head and placed his chin on my chest before looking into my eyes. I could see him contemplating.

"Listen, I think we are both on the same page here. However, my priority right now is your safety. Maybe when this is all over, we could go on an actual date? I think that would be nice, you know?"

He wants to take me out?

"Really? You want to go on a date with me?"

"And why is that so hard to believe?" I shrugged and started playing with his hair. He looked like he would melt in a second.

"I don't know, it's all so messed up. Maybe you don't want anything to do with me after this is over."

"That's not going to happen. I like you, Y/N. I want you, it's ridiculous how much. I just don't want to compromise your safety for my selfish desires." I nodded and placed a gentle kiss on his head. His blinked and pulled himself up on his forearms.

"You know, maybe we could break my rules, just this once." My brow furrowed.

"What do you mean?"

San smiled and got closer, our noses almost touching.

"Say, Y/N... Have you ever made out with a police officer?"

I giggled. "No, I can't say I did. Why?"

"Well... Would you want to?"

I bit my lip and nodded. Why the hell not?

"Good to know."

And just like that, his lips were on mine.

The kiss was more passionate than I could have expected. San was going slow, but as time went by, we picked up the pace. Our hands were exploring every inch of our bodies. My legs were firm around his waist, with his tangled in my hair.

We rolled around the bed, laughing in between kisses. After what felt like an hour, or more, we finally stopped to catch our breaths.

"That was... Wow." I laughed again.

"Yeah, wow. But San..." He turned to look at me.

"What's wrong?"

"I thought you were a detective, not an officer?"

"Oh, yeah... Well, you just made out with a police detective. You can cross it on your bucket list."

I couldn't help the giggles, and San joined me. We naturally gravitated towards each other again and, soon enough, we got lost in each other's lips.

What we didn't know at the time was that a pair of dark eyes was watching everything from the building across the street.

.

.

The morning went by quickly. San and I didn't leave the bed for a good two hours, rolling around, laughing, talking, kissing... There was so much kissing it kind of makes me dizzy thinking about it.

When we finally decided to get up, we got a call from officer Jung. He was concerned about the silence on Jaehyun's end, but they didn't have anything new on him. I could see it was affecting San, but he tried acting tough in front of me. After the call ended, we decided to lounge around all day.

By nine o'clock, we were hungry and exhausted from all of the kissing we were doing.

"I don't feel like cooking really. I think I want to melt into this couch if I'm being honest." San chuckled and kissed my forehead.

"I get you, but we do have to eat. Do you want me to go to that pizza place down the street? We can order and I can pick it up. I know the delivery driver creeps you out."

I shivered a bit. "Yeah, he always tries to look down my top. You wouldn't mind doing that?"

He caressed my cheek before pinching it.

"For you? Not at all. Let me call them and I'll be on my way."

After placing the order, San put on his jacket and shoes and kissed me again.

"I will never get enough of this." I smiled and gave him another peck.

"Nor will I. Go now before I starve."

He laughed and went out. He didn't bring his car keys, but I knew there was no need, as the place was literally down the street. I heard the lock click and I pushed the button to activate the alarm. Funny, it always glows red when it's on, but now it wasn't shining. Maybe the batteries weren't good anymore? I'll have to tell San when he comes back.

I went into the kitchen to take out some plates and cups. I looked around for candles to make it more romantic, but only found one.

"Guess this will do."

After setting everything up on my living room table I went to my bedroom to put on something nice. I know I don't have to try, but I felt like San deserved it.

I was about to pull my shirt over my head when I heard the door clicking. It's been about ten minutes since San left, he couldn't be back so soon?

"San? Is that you?"

There was no response to my question. It was eerily silent.

I was just about to turn around when I saw him.

The reflection in my vanity mirror.

"Hey there baby. How have you been?"

"Jaehyun?"

.

.

San was practically skipping towards the pizza joint down the street. His day couldn't be any better. Not only did he kiss the most beautiful woman in the world, he was certain she felt the same as he did about their connection. When this whole mess becomes history, he will take her on the best date of her life. She deserved nothing less.

Once he reached the family owned business, he told them his name and order number and they quickly packed it up for him.

He must have been gone for about 20 minutes when his phone rang in his pocket.

"Officer Jung? Is everything okay?"

Why was the old man calling him on a Saturday night?

"San! My boy! We have a big problem! Where are you? Is Y/N there?"

"Woah, hold up. She's not with me, I left her at home to pick up our dinner? What's going on?" Mr Jung was awfully quiet on the other end.

"Mr Jung?"

"San... You need to run back as fast as you can. He called the station, he's going to do something to her tonight. I've already sent out a patrole, they are coming as fast as they can. There was an accident on the bridge tonight, they have go take a detour. San, my boy, run and save the poor girl."

San's blood ran cold instantly. How could he have been so foolish? He left her, all alone, with a serial killer out to get her. He threw away the pizza box and sprinted down the street.

He could only pray go get there before something terrible happened.

.

.

"Jaehyun... Please... You don't want to do this."

He stepped into the room and closed the door.

"Do what baby? I'm here to take what's mine. Do you know how hard it was watching you with that loser? He even made you change your locks so I couldn't get in! But I found a way, I always do!"

He kept stalking towards me until I was backed up against my vanity table.

"Do you have any idea how much I've missed your eyes baby? Your beautiful, warm, stunning eyes..."

"Please, I don't want to die."

He put his hands on my cheeks.

"No, no, no... Baby, don't worry about that. I mean you have to die, but not yet. I have to make up for lost time, you know?"

I slowly grabbed my eyeliner pencil from the table, trying to be as discreet as possible.

"Yeah, I think I get it... How do you want to make up for it?"

He seemed to lighten up at my fake enthusiasm, and he put his hands down, but he didn't step away.

"I knew you'd come around baby. Well, we have all night to decide once you come with me. We can't do anything here, your bed is filthy from that idiot sleeping in it."

Just as he was about to kiss me, I jammed the pencil into his eyeball.

He screamed and I pushed him out of my way, running towards the door.

"You bitch! I'm gonna fucking kill you! Oh, you're in for it now Y/N!"

I opened the bedroom door and I almost made it to the front of my apartment before he tackled me to the ground.

"Not so fast you slut. You think you can run away from me? Think again, you bitch."

I struggled underneath his weight, trying to push him off with my legs. He was too strong for me.

"Let me go, please! Please, you don't want to do this!"

"Shut up!" He smacked me right across the mouth, and I could taste blood on my lips.

In the midst of my struggle, San appeared before my eyes. Poor San... He was going to be devastated.

I was about to give up when I heard the sound of my door being broken down.

"Well, well... Isn't that the bastard himself?"

"Get the fuck of off her before I put a bullet between your eyes."

I looked up and I couldn't help but fear the expression on San's face. He looked dark, and the gun in his hands wasn't helping.

Suddenly, Jaehyun pulled me up and put his arm around my midsection. He had a pocket knife in his other hands, aimed straight at my throat.

"Listen up pretty boy. One wrong move and her blood will be all over the walls. You know what I hate about you bastards? You come in in the worst possible moments. We were just about to run away and have the time of our lives, isn't that right baby?"

He caressed my throat with the knife and I could see San struggling to keep himself composed. He cleared his throat.

"You think I care about her? I'm just a detective waiting to put cuffs on your hands boy, nothing else. This was all an act, and you fell for it easily. Honestly, you call yourself a killer? Pathetic."

I knew San didn't mean any of those words, but it hurt hearing him say them out loud.

"Jaehyun, baby... You need to let me go. I made a mistake in the bedroom, that wasn't nice of me. But I got scared, you know? Please baby..." San was looking into my eyes as I started pleading with Jaehyun.

My ex was slowly loosing his grip on me. I could hear his breathing becoming laboured.

"You really mean that baby? Wanna come with me now?"

I nodded slowly. "Yeah, yes. I'll come with you."

He slowly lowered the knife, but he stopped suddenly.

"You think I'm that stupid you bitch? You're gonna get it now, and Loverboy will have front row tickets."

I closed my eyes waiting for him to push the knife into my throat when a loud bang rang through my ears.

A bullet whizzed past my ear and right into Jaehyun's head.

If San didn't grab me I would have gone to the ground along with Jaehyun.

I let out a yelp.

Everything went dark for a moment.

"Y/N! Come on baby girl, come back to me."

I opened my eyes and stared straight into San's. I could see my living room ceiling. We were still inside?

"What happened?"

He sighed in relief. "You scared the hell out of me."

He pulled me up into a hug and that's when I saw it.

Jaehyun's lifeless body sprawled all over my living room floor.

"Oh my God... San... Is he?"

"Yeah, he is. I'm sorry Y/N, but he was about to stab you. I couldn't let that happen." I looked up at San and threw my arms around him. I squeezed his shoulders like my life depended on it.

"Thank you. Thank you so much. You kept me safe. You did it."

I could feel him caressing my hair and kissing the top on my head.

"Always baby girl, I'd do anything for you."

We could hear the sirens finally blasting from outside. In no time, my apartment was full of police officers, AMTs and a forensic unit. They had to take care of Jaehyun's body.

Officer Jung walked in as well.

"Y/N! San, my boy! Oh thank God!" He threw his arms around us.

"Hey Mr Jung..." He jabbed San in the forehead.

"Thank God you were one of the best shooters in your class. Nobody could have pulled this off besides you. I'm proud of you."

Mr Jung helped us stand up and took us outside of the building. San didn't want to leave my side even when another policeman came to take out statements.

Soon enough, we were sitting on the steps of my building, a blanket around our shoulders. We watched as a black van drove away with Jaehyun's body inside. It felt surreal.

"You know everything is going to be okay now, right?"

I looked at him and admired his manly features. I nodded.

"I know... I have you by my side now, if we are still on for that date?"

San smiled and kissed my forehead.

"Hell yes we are."

[tightjeansjavi]

Jail Bird | Joel Miller x smuggler/raider f! reader

A/N: I got inspired by listening to the song “Stay” by Rihanna when I was driving home from Kentucky, and this was the result of it 🫠 you’re either gonna love, or hate the reader in this one.

~word count: 5.9k~

Summary: your relationship with Joel has always been easy up until the point that you make the conscious decision to leave him, and the QZ behind. Years later and you meet again, under violent circumstances.

Warnings: angst, unrequited love, pining, stalking (if you squint) borderline possessive/obsessive behavior, smut (described but not as the main focal point of the story) conning, emotional manipulation, the reader is morally gray and you’ll either love them or hate them, actions on the base of survival, implied consent, unprotected p in v, oral (f receiving) violence (undescribed but marked) possessive! Joel, vulnerable! Joel, protective! Joel, dark! Joel (if you squint) Joel is a hopeless romantic, manhandling, threats, use of firearms, smoking, +18 minors dni!

Jail Bird: ‘a person who is or has been in prison’

Your relationship with Joel Miller, your partner in crime, was as easy as sliced pie. The syrupy sticky sweet warm filling with melted vanilla ice cream drooling down the crust. Joel Miller, however, was anything but sweet. He tasted of smoky bourbon and life-long indescribable grief. Fluttering ashes, tongues tied, teeth clashing. His hands; sculpted by Greek gods in a meticulous manner. Strong, veiny, calloused yet soft. Joel Miller was a perfectly wrapped package with an ash stained bow. A dangerous combination of brooding, pining, and lust. Your partnership consisted of smuggling, sharing rations, and fucking. Joel was a man who knew how to fuck. The first time he took you was in a back alley in the QZ. The air was balmy and ridden with suspense. He caught you sneaking through the shadows past curfew to make a few back door deals with some FEDRA soldiers. A blow job for a trade of a handsome stack of ration cards? No biggie. He never felt jealousy course through his veins till he saw you sink to your knees on command.

Even with the lack of lighting, sans the pale moonlight shimmering above, Joel saw the doe like innocence in your eyes as he peeked his head around the corner. It felt wrong to watch. It weighed heavy like cement around his bones. Filth and sin dripped through his grime stained pores. He had been watching you for a while. You were a new resident to the QZ, a pretty thing that knew her way around the rules like they never even existed to you. He liked that about you. He liked that you were brash, that you outsmarted every lonesome fuck that crossed your path. So he’d observe you from a distance, catching your keen eye every now and then. It turned into an obsession for him and now the last shroud of little morals he possessed, were completely shredded as he palmed himself through his painfully tight jeans. Cursing under his breath as he tried to provide any form of relief to his aching cock. His head tilted back against the brick wall, lower lip taken harshly between his teeth as he took another risky peek around the corner.

You knew Joel was watching you. You caught his familiar, ruggedly handsome features appear from around the corner. How long he had been watching you did not matter. Your cunt ached for him just as much as his cock weeped for you. You had been observing him the day you arrived at the QZ, and you found yourself yearning for his rough caress.

Your eyes stayed locked on the spot behind the wall where Joel was pressed against as you pleasured the FEDRA soldier who lasted all of 30 seconds before he was spilling his filth down your throat and tossing ration cards at your knees. The stray dribble of cum was wiped from your lips with the tip of your thumb as you gathered up the ration cards and shoved them into your pockets as you rose to your feet. You pulled out a freshly rolled cigarette, bringing the tip to your lips as you lit the other end with an old lighter. Your features were illuminated by the warm glow of the flame as you lit the death stick and deeply inhaled. “You can come out from your hiding spot, Joel Miller. I know it’s you behind the wall. Don’t be shy.” Your head tilted to the side as you took another long drag.

Joel sauntered from behind the wall. His tall frame was brooding under the soft glow of the moon. His boots crunched heavily under rubble as he approached. Thunder lowly rumbled in the far distance as a warm breeze kissed your skin. The comforting glow of the moon was casted over in darkness of thick moving clouds as cooling droplets of water began to free fall from the heavens. The pavement was stained in dampness as the sky grumbled above. Bleach-burn hot flashes of lightning illuminated the jet black sky and illuminated Joel’s features in a blink of an eye. The rain didn’t deter him as he stopped a foot from where you stood. His gaze on you burned as brightly as the lit end of your cigarette pursed between your lips.

“You know, you’re worth a hell of a lot more than a blowjob in a back alleyway. How long did the fucker even last? 30 whole fuckin’ seconds?” He was leaning over you now, forearm resting along your head and you could feel the electricity and heat radiating from his body.

“Do you always watch women give blow jobs to FEDRA soldiers in back alleys? Or is this just a new hobby that you have suddenly developed?” You were casual with your question, a smirk playing on your lips as you lightly blew the hazardous smoke off to the side.

“No. You’re the first, darlin.’ It’s filthy of me, I am aware. Bet you liked it though huh? Bet you liked the idea of some dirty old man watching you get down on your knees prettily like that. You don’t seem like the type of gal to beat around the bush. Storms rollin’ in..wanna see if we can give the thunder a run for its money, sugar?” Joel wasn’t one to beat around the bush either and you appreciated a man that knew exactly what he wanted. Joel Miller was exactly what you needed to satiate your desires.

“You want to fuck me Mr. Miller?” You purred, flicking what was left of your cigarette to the ground, listening to the light hiss the extinguished flame gave when a stray rain drop fell upon it.

You felt his lips dip down to the shell of your ear, teeth scraping along the sensitive skin as he whispered, “wanna destroy you in the best fuckin’ way possible. Wanna ruin your sweet cunt. Been s’long for me, n’you’re so fuckin’ pretty, it hurts. Let me take care of ya, and I promise you won’t have to get on your knees for another FEDRA fuck again.” He pressed an open mouth kiss against the spot where your ear met your jaw, licking a hot stripe down your throat with a heavy warm breath.

“Is that a promise you can keep?” You whispered through the steady rainfall, eyes fluttering shut, lips parting.

“I don’t do promises, baby.” He rasped as his strong hands found purchase around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest. “I only fuck. Ain’t gonna find any love from me. Don’t go and lookin’ for it.”

“I don’t do love either. It’s lost all significant meaning for me. I’m just looking for a good consistent fuck, and the means to survive.” You grasped the back of his neck in one swift movement, yanking his head up so you could crash your lips against his in a heated, tongue filled, teeth clashing kiss.

“Well, you’ve come to the right place, doll. You’re mine now.” He mumbled against your swollen lips as he popped the button along your jeans and shoved his hand between the tight fabric and your soaked through panties.

“Yours.” You gasped longingly as his broad fingers teased your sticky, slick folds, gathering up your pooling arousal that oozed just for him.

The pounding rain soaked through your clothes as your thighs were wrapped tightly around Joel Miller’s hips. He was buried to the hilt inside of you as he slammed into you in a rhythmic pattern. The wind howled wildly as thunder cracked dangerously above. His hips would snap forward into you each time the thunder cracked ferociously. You and Joel were like two feral animals, clawing, biting, and moaning through the ever-growing violent tempest.

Your need for one another had grown carnal. Your bodies were constantly drawn to one another, like moth to flame. You spent more time in his apartment on the other side of the QZ than your own. He fucked you into a peaceful slumber everytime. Sometimes he’d fall asleep inside of you when he’d grown exhausted. “G’nna keep you full of my cock all fuckin’ night.” He’d whispered against your sex stained skin as his arm wrapped firmly around your waist.

You’d slip out of his steel grip before the sun would kiss the budding horizon. Sleeping over at Joel’s felt too personal, and you did it for yours and his own good. Of course, it didn’t go unnoticed. He’d confront you about it each time you’d accompany him on a smuggling run. “Why’d you leave in’sucha hurrry? Think I’m ugly or somethin?’” He’d casually ask as he walked alongside you.

“We both agreed to do no sleepovers, Joel.” Was always your reply. It was like clockwork.

“Fuck our stupid rules. I want to wake up to that pretty little cunt squeezing my cock. You gonna deny me that? C’mon. One sleepover won’t kill ya. I like havin’ you in my bed darlin.’” He nudged you against a nearby tree as the early morning birds chirped along the swaying branches.

“Fine. One sleepover.” You grasped him firmly through the tight confines of his jeans as he hissed under his breath. “Just one, baby. I swear on my filthy, lust ridden heart.” He affirmed.

One sleepover turned into five, and five to a dozen, till neither of you could keep track. It’s as if Joel had made a home inside of your flesh where he refused to depart. He built a door between your sternum; strong and sturdy. On either side of your sumptuous breasts laid two crafted windows. Your heart is where his bed laid where he secretly wished he could inhabit there for the rest of his dying days.

You had grown accustomed to the old metal bed frame striking the crumbling wallpaper fiercely. The old creak and groan of the bed springs creating a rhythmic tune in sync with your sweat slick bodies colliding over, and over again. Joel took you in any position imaginable between those 4 cramped walls. He grew fond of the way you’d ride him slowly where he had the pleasure to watch the way your warm walls hugged his cock with each roll and rise of your hips. He reveled in the erotic sight of your cum mixing with his own, like your own personal watercolor painting between your connected bodies. He reveled in smearing your skin with his release, using his fingers as a paintbrush as he streaked your skin in his filth.

When he learned that you were incapable of having children, he’d press his cum back into your tight hole with glint in his darkened eyes as he used his tongue to push his cum further inside of you, humming at the taste. “Gotta keep all of that inside of ya, sweet girl. Love knowin’ I can fill ya up like this. Don’t want any drops to leak out of this cunt. Wanna keep you stained in my cum forever.” He’d kiss your clit lovingly, tenderly with a light flick of his wet muscle. His words were nothing short of filthy. Any existing priest in this shit-hole would proclaim that you and Joel were children of satan for the debauchery that you both willingly partook in.

You liked it that way.

On the evening you made the conscious decision to leave Joel, and the QZ forever. The weather was stormy, just like the night you had first officially met. The rain pounded furiously against the grime stained windows. The tattered curtains casted shadows along the peeling floral wallpaper. Bright hot flashes of lightning illuminated the room you inhabited for what felt like centuries in fluorescent white. Your thighs were deliciously squeezing either side of Joel’s head as his face was buried deeply into your ruined cunt for the fifth time that evening. His tongue worked you in practiced strokes. His hunger for you was that of a ravenous beast that hadn’t experienced the taste of a woman along his tongue in years. He lapped at you like a man starved as if your cunt was that of the holy grail, sweet and life-curing. His hands acted as anchors around your hips, holding you pliant with little strength needed, eyes blissfully closed as he drank and lapped every last drop you could possess for him. Always so willing, always so needy, always such a good, good, girl for him. Only for him.

When he finally detached his mouth from your swollen clit, he looked up at you, grinning like a devil. His beard and chin were freshly coated in your slick that glistened under the bright flashes of lightning. His lips were wet, and appeared like two dew kissed cherries, scarlet and kissable. He rested his cheek along the inside of your sweat thick thigh as he caught his breath, chest rising and falling as he gazed up at you through thick lashes. He pressed an open mouth kiss as his beard scratched your skin gently. He was in love, and yet you had no idea. Or, maybe you knew all along. Maybe you loved him too. Maybe, just maybe. “Do you think maybe we can just stay here forever?..I’ll greet ya with a kiss every mornin.’ We could just stay between these walls and no one would have to know.” He pressed a feather light kiss to your hip bone. “Just you and me, and this sweet cunt. Never have I tasted something so sweet.”

Your fingers found purchase through his sweaty tendrils, twisting them between your digits with a content sigh. “I’m leaving the QZ, Joel. I can’t stay here any longer.” The confession flitted past your lips with a heavy sigh to shortly follow.

He chuckled, the sound vibrated up his chest and through his throat that was coated in your taste like cough syrup. “What do you mean you’re leavin’ the QZ? Don’t be ridiculous, darlin.’ Everywhere behind these fuckin’ walls is a shithole. There ain’t anythin’ good out there. I can’t fuckin’ protect you past those gates.” Another kiss was left along your abdomen.

“I never asked for, nor needed your protection, Joel. I’m perfectly capable on my own. You have to let me go. This has gone on far too long, and it’s for our own good.”

He scoffed as his lips continued to kiss their way up your body. Stopping at every freckle, every scar, every blemish. He traced them gently. “Let you go? How the fuck do you expect me to do that when I’ve learned, and know every fuckin’ inch of ya. Is it really for our own good? Or just yours? Don’t lie to me.” He nipped at the spot just below your ribcage, and your immediate reaction was to arch up closer to his touch. You always felt magnetized to him.

“You and I both know that it’s better off this way. What we had was good, and I have no regrets, but we broke every fuckin’ rule we put in place, Joel. It’ll hurt for a while, but the pain will reside and you’ll forget all about me.”

He was on his knees now, yanking you down by your ankles so you were beneath him. “Don’t fuckin’ tell me how I’ll feel. You know how fuckin’ long it’s takin’ me to finally open myself to someone again? You think you can just leave and suddenly one day I’ll stop thinkin’ about you? You’re fuckin’ out of your goddamn mind if you think that to be true.” The tip of his cock was nudged against your entrance, dragging through your slick folds that parted open for him like a canyon. He pressed himself into your tight wet hole, groaning softly at the feeling of your cunt hugging him already. “Put your thighs up against your chest fo’me.” He gritted out between clenched teeth.

Your thighs moved on command as you brought them up to your chest, bending yourself in half like a folding table as the weight of his own broad chest pushed your back further into the old mattress. “Joel, please.” You mewled. “You have to let me go. You have to.”

“Stop. Tellin’. Me. What. I. Have. To. Do.” He enunciated each symbol in a borderline patronizing way. He sunk further, and further into your warm abyss. Your pussy hugged him tighter and tighter till he had bottomed out. Sweaty strands of curls draped across his forehead like curtains as he snapped his hips forward in an aggressive manner. “You wanna leave me so bad, baby? After everythin’ I have done for you? Everythin’ I have given you? Shelter, food in your belly and a cock that knows how to fuck you stupid? You ain’t goin’ anywhere. I’ll just have to follow you. Care about you too fuckin’ much to just let you leave me like that.”

The old springs in the mattress squeaked with each one of his heavy thrusts. Your eyes rolled back as his tip pressed firmly against your cervix, eliciting stars to be casted behind your eyes. He fucked into you at an impossibly deep angle, his heavy balls hung between his thighs and slapped against your skin with every snap of his hips. “Joel, please.” You pleaded with him between moans.

“Please what, baby? Please fuck you stupid till you forget all about wantin’ to leave me? You’re not the same until you’ve had a well deserved fuck. I’m the only fuckin’ man that can give it to ya. Take it like the good fuckin’ girl that you are fo’me. Your pretty ‘lil fuckin’ pussy is huggin’ my cock so perfectly. S’like she was made ‘jus fo’me.” He was kissing you now, all teeth and tongue to shut you up. You protested words that fell muffled against his addictive lips as he fucked you the way he knew best. Always making sure you felt filled, stretched to your limits, and on cloud nine by the end of it. He always took care of you afterwards. Gently wiping between your thighs, bathing you under a warm stream with the tenderest of touches. Joel Miller loved you, and that’s exactly why you had to leave him.

He kept you anchored against his naked chest all night. Notched together like two puzzle pieces. At the strike of morning, with the soft beams of light trickling in through the wispy curtains, prying yourself from his satiating grasp. If you stayed in his warm embrace any longer, your heart would cave and you’d never leave. Without even delivering a proper goodbye, you left his apartment without looking back. You kept pushing yourself further and further from Joel, from the QZ till it was just a mere speck in the distance.

Joel drove himself mad on his search to find where you went. His anger shrouded his hurt as he scoured the QZ for any sign of your existence. He checked alleyways, the abandoned mall, your own apartment. He tore through your things in a fury, tears burning his vision as he ripped through your belongings like a predator rips apart its prey. No signs. No hidden clues for him to find where you ran off to. He inspected mutilated faces of the infected, praying that none of the once living would resemble you. None of them did. He gave up his search when he and Tess were forced to take a teenage girl across the country to the fireflies. Tess perished and soon it was just Joel and the kid. He never stopped thinking of you, of course. You haunted his dreams and sometimes he’d wake up to see your ghostly face laying beside him.

He thought he’d never see you again until one brutal winter in Jackson while he, Tommy, and a few other men were patrolling on horseback. Ellie was safely back in town, far from harm's way while Joel placed himself on death's doorstep every time he patrolled with his brother. His horses' hooves crunched heavily along the freshly fallen snow. The wind whipped and howled in an ominous tune as the bitter chill tore through his thick jacket and pierced his skin. “There ain’t nothin’ alive here for miles, Tommy. Let’s go back. That rumor we heard about a raiders camp is probably false. Besides, you said it yourself, ain’t no man is stupid enough to try and overthrow the town.” Joel rode up alongside Tommy’s horse.

“The cold botherin’ you or somethin’ brother? Thought you were tougher than that.” The younger Miller brother said with an amused grin as he lightly punched Joel in the shoulder.

The wholesome moment quickly turned to chaos as 3 shots rang through the snow covered evergreens. Your group had been closely stalking Joel and Tommy for hours in the shadow of the forest. It wasn’t your first choice to join a raider group. Why the men spared you that day was beyond you, but they had become your new family, and you’d take whatever protection you could get; good or bad. You were the mastermind behind ambushing the group from Jackson. Driven by greed and bloodlust, you convinced your men that they could take down the patrol group, and overthrow the town. A lack of poor judgment proved to be fatal as you were thrown from your horse and tumbled into the snow. Your gun was kicked violently from your grasp with a heavy boot as you let out a feral scream.

The same boot that disarmed you, kicked your body down into the snow with a heavy thud. Adrenaline coursing through your veins clouded your senses as you held your hands up in defense at your perpetrator. You could only see his eyes as the rest of his face was covered by a thick wool scarf. The barrel of his gun was pressed against your temple as the man’s knee pressed harshly down on your stomach, pinning you at his mercy. “Your men are dead, and now you’re about to fuckin’ join them. How stupid does one person have to be to try and pull off a stunt like that?” The man gruffly spoke, voice muffled through the thick wool disguising his features.

That voice. Could it be? No. You were just imagining things again.

“Go ahead and fucking shoot me then. Better you than the men back at my camp. They’ll do far worse than you can imagine.” You spat.

Joel grasped the back of your head, yanking you up as he kept the barrel of his gun steady against your trembling temple. “How many of ya are there? In your camp, how many? If you tell me where they are, I won’t kill you.” Joel Miller was always a man of his word.

“Twenty..or so. You’ll need more men.” You grinned your teeth together as he roughly yanked you up. Your face was also concealed with a thick scarf, but your eyes held a sense of familiarity that Joel hadn’t felt in years.

“Tommy! Round up what’s left of their horses, and we’ll take her back with us. She’s gonna tell us where the rest of her group is. Ain’t that right, darlin?’”

Tommy was weary of his brother's proposal but ultimately agreed. “Fine. We’ll put her in a cell and then interrogate her for information. Maria isn’t going to take lightly to this, just so you’re aware.” Tommy narrowed his eyes at you before turning on his heel to return to his own horse.

“So, I’m becoming your prisoner? You gonna put me in handcuffs or something, sir?” You couldn’t help but take a tone with this man, despite a literal gun being pressed against your forehead.

He yanked you up to your feet in one swift movement. “You’re going to be my jailbird for as long as I fuckin’ see fit. You wanna live another day? Better get to talkin’, and cut that smartass attitude out. The hell is wrong with you?” Joel shoved you towards your horse with the barrel of his gun now shoved at your back. “Get on.” He demanded.

“You injured my horse.” You flatly stated as you grabbed ahold of the reins and hoisted yourself back into the saddle, and your scarf fell down just the slightest before you quickly scrambled to re-secure it.

“That’s what happens when you ambush heavily armed people, darlin.’ A grazed bullet to the flank ain’t gonna kill your horse. He’ll live.” Joel hoisted himself back up into his own saddle.

“It’s a she, and fuck you.”

“Well, my apologies to her.” Joel held the reins in one hand while the other was firmly wrapped around your bicep, just in case you were going to be stupid enough to try and escape.

You were in fact thrown into Jackson’s makeshift jail like a rag doll. Joel was anything but gentle as he shoved you inside the cell and slammed the door shut with a heavy clank and locked it. “You outta go and make yourself comfortable, cus’ you’re gonna be here awhile.” He pulled up a chair to sit right outside the metal bars. It scraped painfully along the flooring as he sat down.

You sat down in the chair across from him, peering through the metal bars with your arms crossed against your chest. “So, even if I tell you where the rest of my group resides, you aren’t going to let me go?”

Joel mirrored your actions by crossing his broad shoulders over his chest in an intimidating manner. “I never said anythin’ about lettin’ you go. All I said was that I wouldn’t kill ya if you told me where the rest of your group is.”

“Ohh. So you were dead serious on the whole prisoner thing? I thought you were bluffing.” You pressed the weight of your back against the metal chair. “Well, if we’re gonna be here awhile, mind telling me who you are?”

“Those details are not necessary. You ain’t got a reason to know who the hell I am. You’re gonna sit there, and you’re gonna talk and I let you live. You think you get to call the shots, sweetheart? You got another thing comin’ for ya.” Joel stated with a raised brow.

“Alright, how about we make a deal. You seem like a reasonable man. How about we both take these scarves off and reveal our identities, and then I’ll talk. Let’s make this entire transaction personable, it’ll make it way more fun for me to kill you if I see your face.” Your threat was casual, yet all the more serious.

“Kill me? How are you gonna do that? I got you trapped behind these bars and there ain’t nothin’ you can do about it.” He scoffed at your threat, brushing it off like water off a ducks back.

“I have my ways.” You stood up from the chair and sauntered over to the bars, grasping them between your hands with your cheek pressed against the cold metal. “C’mon. Tell me your name, and then I’ll tell you where my camp is. It’s a fair deal.”

Joel let out an annoyed huff. He was sick of your games already and he briefly wondered how someone as incessant as you, survived this long. “Joel. My name is Joel.”

Joel is a common name, right? There’s plenty of Joel’s. There’s no way in fucking hell that this man was your Joel Miller. Not a chance.

The air felt heavy as you stared at him through the bars. Your gaze was heavy on his covered face as if you were trying to see through the wool that covered it.

“The fuck are you starin’ at? Y’know what? Maybe I should just kill you after all. You ain’t gonna tell me what I want to know. You think that you’re gonna fuckin’ weasel your way out of this. Well, guess what? You ain’t.” He stood up from the chair in a fury as he strode to the bars and grasped your chin in one swift movement. You clawed at his hand, but it was too late. Your scarf fell from where it was secured on your face and he stumbled back as if he had seen a ghost, his own scarf falling as his body collapsed into the chair.

“YOU?!” He yelled incredulously as he stared at your recognizable face in disbelief. “YOU TRIED TO FUCKIN’ KILL ME!” He tossed his scarf to the ground as he pulled himself back up from the chair. “All these years, and this is how we meet again?!” His voice echoed off the concrete walls, booming painfully against your eardrums as you cowered from the sound.

“Had I known it was you—”

He didn’t even give you a chance to finish your sentence as his hands slammed down around the bars. His face was flushed red with anger, his eyes narrowed into slits. “Bull fucking shit! You tried to kill me, and my brother! You fuckin’ ambushed us!”

“I DIDN’T KNOW IT WAS YOU! I DIDN’T KNOW IT WAS YOU, JOEL! I SWEAR!” You tried to plead with him.

“You tried to kill me.” His voice fell flat as he stepped back from the metal bars with a heavy shake of his head. “You fuckin’ bitch.” He whispered under his breath as he strode out of the makeshift jail without looking back.

Three days passed since you had last seen Joel Miller. You were convinced that he, and the people of Jackson would let you rot in here without a care in the world. In your solitude, your mind drifted off to the QZ and your time spent with Joel. Oh, how everything had changed.

A metal tray skidded to your feet below the metal bars along with a mug of coffee. Joel had returned and was once again sitting in the old metal chair as you scarfed down the food he provided you like a ravaged animal.

“Your men are dead. Cordyceps got to them before we could.” He was resting his hands on his knees as he leaned over, observing you.

“Good. I’m glad to hear it.” You spoke between mouthfuls of stew, not even looking up at him.

“Tommy wants to kill you. His wife is pretty fuckin’ pissed that you and your group ambushed us. I’ve convinced him for the time being to spare your life. You’re welcome.”

“I agree that they should kill me. I’m a traitorous killer. If you let me out of this cell, I won’t hesitate to kill you.”

“You can quit that whole tough girl act ‘round me. I know exactly who, and what you are, and you darlin’ are not a killer.” Joel retorted with a sigh.

“Stop fucking acting like you know who I am, Joel. You don’t know a goddamn thing about me anymore. You don’t know the people I have killed since I left you. You don’t know what I’m capable of, so stop pretending that you do.” You snapped.

“Oh? I don’t? Just because you went off and joined a group of murderous raiders, doesn’t mean I don’t know you anymore. Are you forgettin’ that I used to be one of them?”

“What exactly are you trying to get out of this, Joel? Are you looking for closure? Are you looking for revenge? What the hell is it that you want?” You kicked the empty tray back under the prison bars.

“I want some fuckin’ answers. I want to know why you just up and left me like that. Do you know how long I spent lookin’ for you? I was forced to give up because a teenage girl, who I now view as my own kid, was thrown into my life, quite literally, and we went on this journey together. I stopped looking for you in mutilated bodies, but I never stopped thinking about you, and where you were.”

“I already told you why I needed to leave. I gave you those answers, and you wouldn’t agree with me. Leaving you was the hardest thing I have ever fucking had to do. I told you it was for our own good.”

His boots were heavy along the floor as he stopped in front of the bars, grasping them tightly between clutched fists. “No. I want a real fuckin’ answer. I deserve that at the very least.”

You were in front of him now, hands grasping the bars just below his own with your eyes boring into his. “I left because I had to. If I stayed any longer, I would have never been able to leave. We would have never worked out, Joel. It was going to come to an end whether we wanted it to or not.”

“You didn’t fuckin’ have to do anythin.’ I provided you anythin’ you fuckin’ wanted. Anythin’ you needed. I let you ruin me, and you just get up and leave? Fuck you. I didn’t ask to feel this way. I didn’t ask to care about you. It just fuckin’ happened. So how dare you say that you had to do anythin.’” His tone dropped an octave as his eyes stayed locked on yours.

“What the fuck else do you want me to say, Joel? Do you want me to say that I hated you? That I never cared about you either? Do you want me to lie to your fucking face and tell you that you never fucking meant anything to me? Is that what you fucking want?!” You responded exasperatedly with your lips nearly touching his between the gaps in the bars. “I’ll lie to you if it means that you’ll finally let me go.”

“I loved you.” He whispered with a clenching heart. “I loved you, and would have done anythin’ to keep you. I’d lasso you the fuckin’ moon if it made you happy.” He confessed.

Your heart fell heavy between strained strings as your palms grew clammy. “No. Take it back. Don’t you dare fucking throw that word around with me, Joel Miller. You’re fucking lying.”

“Am I? Am I fucking lyin’ when I tell you that I searched every goddamn crevice in the QZ looking for you? Am I lyin’ when I tell you that I tore up your fuckin’ apartment to try and find any sign or clue as to where I could find you? Am I lyin’ when I spent sleepless nights cryin’ in my own filth because it felt like a piece of me was ripped away? Just like the way my fuckin’ daughter was ripped from me? I love you, you stupid, stupid girl.”

Suddenly, you were kissing. Magnets drawn together by an impossible force that not even prison bars could keep you apart. He grasped your face delicately between his hands as you kissed one another with desperation, as if you’d slip between one another’s hands like sand on a beach. He detached his lips from yours, a string of spit keeping you connected for a mere moment as he quickly unlocked the cell door with the key in his pocket. You were on each other in an instant, slamming his back into the door before kissing him fervently once more. Joel Miller should have never trusted a jailbird such as you. You felt the coolness of the key in your grasp, having him distracted at your mercy. You shoved him away, slipping through the door and slammed it shut before locking it. He barely had a chance to register that you were no longer in his proximity.

He shook the bars wildly, yelling fiercely as you slipped from his grasp once more. “DON’T LEAVE ME! DON’T LEAVE ME! I LOVE YOU, PLEASE! PLEASE DON’T GO! I LOVE YOU!” He slammed his fists into the bars over and over again, till his knuckles were raw and bleeding, and his throat ran dry.

Tagging people I think will enjoy! @chaotic-mystery @cavillscurls @morning-star-joy @sinsofsummers @cupofjoel @thetriumphantpanda @dinsdjrn @darkroastjoel @korynnekorynne @kirsteng42

Part Two

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Imagine being Ruggie sister who somehow got in to night raven as a student and everything progress on and them as a Ramshackle perfect due to them being a kind person like Tanjiro and strong yet but of a nerd liked Deku with a unique magic of growing plants

What's more she a home maker due to them living in the slums ( like meding clothes, cooking, fixing things as she can, using home remedies when sick and help their bother with the kids at home ) with Ruggie and too working hard to get out of there as they wanted to be a doctor

Let's say due to their genuine kindness Leona, Malleus, Idia, Jamal, Carter and Riddle have a unhealthy obsession crush with Ruggie sister who doesn't share the same romantic feeling and only sees them as a friend

Ruggie's Little Sister Reader | Yandere Twisted Wonderland

Perfectly built for Ramshackle, you happily take to it despite your brother’s insistence you stay next to him in Savvannaclaw. But you’ve never been one to listen to your big brother and you can definitely handle it. You probably fare better than the original in terms of dealing with Night Raven. Because you know how to sweet up boys with mean attitudes, maybe a little too well:

Leona Kingscholar

“Look herbivore, don’t try to boss me-”

“Who’re you calling herbivore!? I’m talking to you, about this lazy cat behavior!”

“Lazy cat-”

“(Y/n) please–”

“No Ruggie, you baby him far too much! I’m stepping in!”

He at first really hates you

Like really 

You do all the things Ruggie does just not for him

In fact you make him do things that make him tired

It’s a pain 

But for whatever reason he’s getting especially happy when you praise him

Only for you 

He’s violent with anyone who comments on the work you have him doing

Its the only reason he keeps in your good graces and thats enough for him

“I’m proud of you, Leona! Now come I’ve cooked up some fillet mignon and it has your name on it!”

“It better. I’m never doing my own laundry again.”

“Hahaha yes you will.”

Ruggie is nervous about this but appreciates you picking up the slack

It sometimes bothers him how much time his employer starts spending with you

But he’s not too worried Leona understands his desire to protect you

“Huh?! You got him to do that?! What should I expect, you are my little sister.”

“Don’t act like I’m not the cooler one of us two.”

Malleus Draconia 

“Ah horn-dude, I was just looking for you.”

“Horn-dude? And you were looking for me?”

“Yeah I was thinking of adding some gardenias, and maybe some vines for decoration. I wanted your opinion since you like coming by here so often.”

“The vines would pertain to a more beautifully abandoned image…but that might just be my preference.”

“Oh thanks so much, Horns!”

His crush is so obvious 

Talking about you often to his guards and mentor

And whenever anyone goes to talk to him he finds some odd way to incorporate you into the conversation 

Trust me its weird for everyone when he starts talking about you during potions when their dissecting magical creatures

he can’t stop trying to talk to you

But he usually ends up just staring at you from the distance

Waiting until your instincts pick up on his presence

And your forced to invite him to join whatever your doing

“Ah! Horns didn’t see you over there! Do you want in? We’re making paper flowers for the festival want to join?”

“I would love to!” 

“What?! Horns?! (Y/n) why are you lettinghimjoin giving him more paper!? I know what I’m doing!” 

“Sure you do.”

Ruggie’s scared out of his mind 

How did you get mixed up with this overpowered monster

He can’t do too much now without knowing he’s going to die

But if it means saving you from certain doom aka Malleus Draconia it might be worth it

Idia Shroud

“Alright that’s enough!”

“W-what?!”  

“No more games before you finish cleaning your room! Ortho and I can help but–”

“Actually (Y/n)-san, I recently pulled up a study that states letting children clean their own rules helps instill better habits when their adults!”

“Ortho!?”

“Oh great idea! Well we’ll be just outside! Come on Ortho let’s plan out our cosplay!”

“Yes!”

“G-guys?!”

He hates that you mother him

But he absolutely loves it when you mother him

He cries about being in the dreaded friendzone kidzone

But boy does he love the way you pat his head or let him cuddle into your chest

He loves the food you make during marathons

Or how you’ll let yourself be distracted by the games you really like

He gets drastic if you spend too long out of his reach

So he sets up cameras+ 

So he takes any opportunity to speak with you

So he puts others in horrifying accidents

“Heeheh by the time I’m done you’ll be the best girl-gamer in the space. And then it’ll be a given for you to never leave the ultimate guy-gamer!” 

“Ewww keep my sister out of your nerd schemes!” 

“Eeep! An enemy has appeared!”

Ruggie thinks he’s a nerd with no game

But nonetheless he knows Idia’s smart but not street smart

“Hishishsishi can’t set the trap if you don’t have the button! Hardly even noticed me swiping his gadget.” 

Jamil Viper 

“I appreciate the help, (Y/n).”

“Of course, you’re always running yourself ragged…I wanted to do something for you.”

“...I really appreciate the lunches you’ve made for me…it’s been a while since I’ve eaten a meal by someone else.” “Well just give me a call I don’t mind cooking for you or lending a hand.”

He’s smitten nbyond comprehension

Now going out of his way to hypnotize anyone else into a corner when it comes to talking to you

Its the least he does out of retaliation

He knows all his flirting and hints go right over your head

But your still cute 

Until you do get it he’s pulling the rug out from any and all competitors

“Hey (Y/n), why don’t you join me in the kitchen? Maybe, show me how you made those potato crisps?”

“Sure, Jamil I’d love to!”

“Ah ah! Not without me you’re not!”

Ruggie knows Jamil’s like him but smarter

Sly and sneaky

Powers aside Ruggie’s sure Jamil’s problematic for your safety

“Don’t think for a second, I’ll let you have them! I'm not that fond of snakes!”

Carter Diamond 

“Wah~(Y/n) you’re so photogenic! Will you pose for me one more time?”

“Well alright. If it’ll make you happy.”

“It’ll make me more than happy!” He loves how oblivious you are 

He absolutely hates it+

But your just so cute 

He guesses he can forgive it 

And hey while your learning the ropes he’s more than happy to keep you close

“Hey hey don’t forget to keep up our streak!”

“Streak?”

“Yeah we’ve been sharing our photos throughout the day of what we’re doing.”

“Yup! It’s a great way to keep track of her!”

“Ick-!”

Ruggie knows he’s slippery

When it comes to tailing him Cater’s good at giving the slip

“Not on my watch. I’m not giving you the chance, to trick my baby sister.”

Riddle Rosehearts

“That’s entirely unreasonable, I’m not doing that!”

“Grrr (Y/n) these are the rules I thought you would respect that.”

“And I thought you would know to relax!”

He thinks your sweet but totally unreasonable

So he guesses you both have something to learn from each other

You more than him obviously

While he doesn’t think highly of your brother he knows your different

And you belong to him

He’s not going to take ‘no’ for an answer

If this is a battle of wills he’d win it

Even if that means subjecting your bad influences to being beheaded

“Riddle! You can't just put that collar on my brother like that!”

“Yeah I’m not even apart of your dorm!”

“Don’t be mad at me for enforcing rules. I know you know the very least of the rules. It shouldn’t be that much of a surprise that your brother just doesn’t measure up. Which means you should leave him before he drags you down.”

Ruggie is peeved that such a prick is after his sister

But he’s not worried 

He’s definitely not cool enough to keep your attention

Not to mention he’s so easy to anger 

It’ll be fun to rile him up

“Hishishishi so mad oh so fast! You’ll barely survive dating them if your this easy.”

[wito-chan-bla-bla]

Wrong number

Gojo likes to write Nanami and chat about (Y/N). The problem is… that all this time he was writing… to you.

"Hey, Nanami, you know what? My future wife gave me a very sweet smile today! I always thought that my Six Eyes didn't have even the slightest flaw, but in fact, there is still one! Why can't I use them to take photos? I would like to remember her smile forever!"

"Nanami-i-in, you have thirty seconds to say what (Y/N)-chan likes out of food! If you don't tell me, I'll come to your house and yell under your windows until you tell me!"

«NA. NA. MIN! Can you go to (Y/N)-chan and find out what her ring finger size is? I want to order a ring for our engagement in advance, but I do not know what size my princess' fingers are."

Again. Again. Again and again. Gojo sent these messages... to you.

It all started about six months ago. You were lying quietly in bed and enjoying a well-earned sleep, when suddenly you jumped up and almost hit the ceiling. Your phone rang abruptly and woke not only you, but definitely your neighbors as well!

You mentally cursed the fact that you forgot to turn down the volume or turn off the sound completely. The phone was in your hands, and you were instantly almost blinded by the bright light. Cursing everything that was happening, you canceled the call and lay back on the cool sheets…

Only to hear three loud sounds in a row in a second, notifying you of the incoming message!

You sat up and growled softly to yourself. Belatedly, it occurred to you that you might be urgently needed as a sorcerer. So that you, overcoming the burning light in your eyes, could finally see the message that came. And there…

"What do you think, what kind of filling do I need to take anpans with?"

You sat for a few seconds, remembering what "anpan" is. Your sleeping brain found somewhere in your head the information that this is dessert, threw it at you and continued to sleep. You looked at the message again…

"Gojo-san, how did you get my number?"

Who else could it be? It was two o'clock in the morning, and an unknown person suddenly writes to you and asks with what filling to take a sweet! This was one hundred percent Gojo.

You turned down the brightness of the screen and turned down the sound, lay back on the bed and decided to finish this conversation quickly so that Satoru would no longer distract you from sleep.

"Ha! Because I am the great Satoru Gojo! You thought you changed your phone number and got away from me? Ha! A genius like me will find someone like you without any problems!"

You frowned. You haven't changed your phone number. But you decided not to think about it, you wanted to sleep.

"I don't want to deal with all this. Take all the filling options for anpans, you're still rich. I'm going to sleep."

And then you turned off the sound on your phone, put it away from you, and went back to sleep.

The next day, you decided to find Satoru and ask him how he got your phone number. You had a weekend off, so you didn't dress in your usual dark uniform, but in something more elegant. As you walked through the school grounds, you listened to the sounds around you. Yes, it would be more logical to find the tall man with white hair using your eyes, but you knew that it is much easier to go to where the loudest and "violent" sounds come from.

Suddenly, your phone tells you that you have received a new message. You have opened the appropriate tab…

You froze, looking around. Yes, there could be no mistake. Gojo photographed you from the roof of one of the nearby buildings.

You wanted to write to him and ask him not to joke, to come here and talk to you, but you froze, looking at the new message from Satoru.

"Hey, Nanami-i-in, do you see this? (Y/N)-chan is so cute today! Oh, I know! If I'm the "strongest", then she's the "cutest"! I think my cheeks will ache for a few more weeks from this memory!"

You continued to stare at the screen in shock. «(Y/N)-chan»? He never called you that! He always referred to you as "(Y/N)", sometimes as "(Y/S)".

But that's not even the strangest part! Why does he suddenly say you're... cute?

You were so confused by this sudden information that you couldn't speak to Gojo when he appeared next to you. You just mumbled something in embarrassment and ran to the bathroom, trying to cool off by splashing cold water on your face.

While you were washing up, I received another message.

"He-he-he-he, I really am not only the strongest, but also the most beautiful. I have a new record, Nanamin! I was able to embarrass a girl in seven seconds! And given that it was (Y/N)-chan… This is my absolute victory!"

After that, you couldn't even talk to Gojo.

You were in a hurry to go home, but so successfully encountered Nanami! You asked him to talk to you alone. Kento nodded and calmly followed you into one of the empty classrooms. All this time you have felt the heavy gaze of the heavenly eyes.

When you were in class, your phone made that familiar sound again.

"Why did (Y/N)-chan call you to this small room, m? Are you trying to take my little girl away from me? Quickly get out of there so I can see you! I don't trust your sharp cheekbones!"

–Is something wrong, (Y/N)?

You looked at Nanami and suddenly realized why he was so tired. When you were in school with him, you were even more or less tolerant of Gojo's antics, finding them funny... but Nanami…

–Did you change your phone number, Kento-kun?

The sorcerer gasped softly and nodded quickly.

–Yes, I'm sorry I didn't warn you sooner. I was on a mission, so I couldn't warn you. You couldn't reach me?

–Um... that's not really the point... I have a... problem here.

You showed him your phone screen. Kento quickly ran his eyes over the messages and then groaned loudly.

–I knew he wouldn't stop there…

–W-what are you talking about?

–I actually changed my phone number so that Gojo wouldn't write or call me anymore, – Kento said with a serious face. – And even though I knew he would try to find me, I didn't think he would try to do it so quickly.

–Um... what he writes to me… is this a hoax or something, y-yes?

 Nanami looked at you. You've looked at Nanami.

–I could try to smooth things over, but our senpai deserves to be punished for distracting me from my legitimate vacation so often and forcing me to answer his stupid questions. Gojo has been in love with you since our first year of school. He keeps writing me stuff like that about you. This is one of the reasons why I decided to change my phone number and not tell him a new one.

You stood there in shock. You... you couldn't believe that Gojo has been in love with you for so long! You can't believe it, because even now, when you received such information and re-analyzed all his actions, you couldn't believe that he was in love with you!

 Yes, he brought you food. But at the same time, he was carrying packages for his students! Yes, he invited you to dinner. But with him and you always went your colleagues, friends or his students! Yes, he brought you souvenirs. But to whom did he not bring souvenirs after his travels?!

You've thought about it over and over and over again. And with every encounter with Gojo replayed in your head, you didn't understand how Satoru could be in love with you.

Meanwhile, Nanami noticed your reaction and tapped you on the shoulder.

–I understand you, (Y/N). I would also be traumatized if I found out that someone like Gojo had fallen in love with me.

–T-that's not the point! G-Gojo-san hasn't shown any signs of attention to me all this time! He... h-he just existed next to me and sometimes acted like Gojo-san usually does!

–However, this does not make my correspondence with him any less adequate, – Kento sighed and patted you on the head, trying to calm you down. – Gojo may not have shown it, but he's incredibly in love with you. I even think he's mentally unstable... and it's not just his romantic feelings for you. (Y/N), – he looked you in the eye, – you can do whatever you want with this information. You can even make him feel a huge amount of shame and opprobrium, which is usually felt by people around him. I personally don't care.

You just nodded in embarrassment.

When you were exchanging phone numbers with him, you suddenly asked:

–Kento-kun, why didn't you just block Gojo-san if he annoyed you so much?

–Because, – Nanami clenched his jaw tightly, – he broke into my apartment, stole my phone, guessed the password, and unlocked himself! I logically decided that it was better to continue reading his whining than to clean the apartment again after a person who does not take off his shoes indoors!

–What makes you think... that he can't just break into your apartment and get your phone number?..

 Nanami grinned broadly at you.

–Because I moved out.

You left the room with Kento, happy for him and his new apartment. Suddenly, you got a text message again.

"Why is she so happy around you?! What did you tell her?!. I'm serious. What did you tell her to make her so happy?.. Oh, I know! If you tell me, I'll buy you bread!.."

You put your phone in your pocket without a word.

You wanted, you really wanted to write Gojo that you are not "Nanamin", that you are not "(Y/N)-chan", that you are not his "princess", "sunny", "rabbit", "goddess", "the most beautiful woman on Earth" and so on. But…

Sometimes it was so nice to feel like the most loved person in the whole world.

You didn't have a romantic relationship. You weren't sure what it was about, but the fact remained. No one gave you loud compliments, no one praised you and your body in a way that didn't make you feel uncomfortable and nauseous, no one gave you gifts or told you that they would put the world at your feet.

And Satoru Gojo... he said all that.

Every time you felt sad, you opened a conversation with him and read his endless "simp's messages". When you didn't have enough of that, you wrote and asked Gojo what exactly he "likes about (Y/N)". And each time Satoru wrote "oh, you finally asked, Nanamin, I thought you didn't want to be in this topic" and the next message flooded you with a portion of compliments.

When you thought about someone great like Satoru Gojo having such feelings for you... you couldn't help but feel better, and you had hope for the best.

But there was still a problem. Gojo... he never once did what Nanami asked him to do. It was like... bullying.

"Nanami-i-in, what kind of cologne do you wear? (Y/N)-chan said you smell good. Maybe if it suits me, (Y/N)-chan will also stick her nose into my chest?"

You answered it by asking Kento first. But Satoru didn't change in any way after that. He smelled the same as before. (Yes, you specifically checked this out).

"What was the name of that restaurant that you and Shoko were discussing? I hear it has a great kitchen. I want to book a table to ask out (Y/N)-chan!"

No one asked you out on a date. Gojo didn't even hint at it.

"What kind of food (Y/N)-chan likes to take with her? She's going on a mission with me, so I want to cook lunch for her!"

No one shared the food with you that day. Moreover, Satoru left when you asked him to eat together, saying that he had urgent business to attend to.

"What gems do you think will suit her? She got a beautiful manicure, and I want to give her a ring and a bracelet that will match the color of her nails!"

You didn't get any expensive (or cheap) jewelry either before the nail polish was still in place or after it was worn off.

Gojo seemed to know… that it's you. (You thought so). You started to doubt that you were able to parody Nanami's perfect grammar, but then you remembered that Kento himself said that he constantly received messages from Satoru of a similar nature. And your friend will not lie to you, especially in something so serious.

In the end, half a year passed. You woke up and fell asleep with questions... and messages from Gojo. You didn't know what to do at all, especially now that you've come this far.

But there was exactly one huge plus in all of this. Nanami always wrote without errors and abbreviations, he even placed commas in the right places! So you were filled with the wisdom of your language and even learned a few dozen new words, because sometimes Kento dictated to you exactly how to answer Gojo.

The fourteenth of February came unexpectedly... or almost. And you planned to end your suffering soon. Because if you once again receive incredible praise in the text and see the usual behavior in life… you'll go crazy.

"Gojo-san, are you awake?"

"What do I see?! Did Nanamin finally text me first?! I don't believe it! I'll go and ask that ugly curse to pinch me! Wait a second!.."

"I can't wait. It's about (Y/N), if it makes you think faster."

You stared at the screen for a few seconds, and then…

–Hello?

 –(Y/N), why Gojo is breaking into the classroom where I wanted to take a nap and yelling that he's going to kill me?

–Um... I texted him on your behalf that I wanted to talk to him... C-can you ask me what kind of chocolate he'd like for February fourteenth? Better yet, l-let him write!..

 Kento ended the call abruptly. You decided to write to Gojo as soon as possible that "(Y/N) is interested in what kind of gift for the fourteenth of February you would like". Suddenly, Nanami called you again and thanked you for saving him, because he had already started climbing out of the window so that Satoru wouldn't kill him.

 Gojo has started typing you a message… He wrote it for a minute, two, five… You decided to leave your phone alone and go for a cup of tea.

When you returned from watching an episode of your favorite TV show, you looked at your phone…

 Did he w-write me a whole book?!

 You scrolled and scrolled and scrolled down the screen... until you finally reached the end.

"So much information is normal? I can think some more if (Y/N)-chan can't choose from what I've suggested!"

You decided to quickly convince him that everything is in order and so.

You started viewing his message… You have a feeling that you didn't read so much in high school.

In the end, you came to a simple conclusion that you didn't have to spend at least ten minutes reading this entire text: Gojo will be happy with everything you give him, but he will be most happy with homemade chocolate.

You planned to hand him a chocolate bar with a note like "it was me all along, (Y/N), not Kento-kun." But it turned out that you don't know how to make sweets. In the end, you decided to ask Nanami for help, taking up his entire evening.

Everything was fine. The wizard really knew how to cook, you quickly finished all the "dirty part", now the chocolate was cooling in the refrigerator and waiting in the wings. Slicing vegetables for Nanami to make a stew doesn't feel quite right. You were proud of the work you did. And yet you were afraid of what was coming.

–If you're tired, I can make dinner myself. You saved me from Gojo's nagging, so this is the least I can do for you.

–No, no, it's okay, Kento-kun… I was just thinking about it… Why is it that Gojo-san practically confesses her love to me in every message, but when we get close?… Why is he acting like he doesn't feel anything at all?

–This may sound corny... but he probably doesn't want you to get hurt, – Nanami reached out and patted your head, bringing back memories of the day you were in the classroom with him. – He is the strongest sorcerer, and he has many enemies. If he has a "favorite", then they will be in danger. This is especially true for the person he loves.

–But why then does he not try to suppress these feelings, but only remind himself of them by 'communicating with you'?

–Because Gojo is an annoying jerk who doesn't know how to control himself, – Kento started cutting carrots. – If you love him, I hope you both start dating as soon as possible. Then all his energy will go to you, and we, all the rest of his environment, will breathe calmly.

–Hey! Are you just making me a victim, Kento-kun?!

–Yes, you're right... – he chuckled softly. – Even you can't completely neutralize someone like Gojo.

You silently poked him in the shoulder.

Shortly before the fourteenth of February, you took out chocolate in the form of hearts, which was cooling all this time, and with the help of white chocolate you wrote an inscription on the sweets (each candy had one letter). "It wasn't Kento-kun's cell number".

And now everything was ready. You bought chocolate for your male friends and prepared to give joy to your colleagues.

You ran from building to building, finding your friends and giving them gifts. (You were planning to get a lot of gifts for White Day, so you had to take care of every man in your environment, hee-hee!) You decided to approach Gojo at the end.

The tall, solitary figure was easy to find. You clutched the colorful box in your hands and prepared for this important step in your life.

–Gojo-san... I have a gift for you.

 Satoru instantly turned around and pulled the black blindfold from his eyes. He smiled slyly at you and began to draw out the vowels, saying something teasing. But you didn't listen to him. You wanted to understand... how you're feeling right now.

If you were disgusted with Gojo or something like that, you wouldn't be reading so much of what he wrote for Nanamin. And yet... you didn't act like an embarrassed teenager either... or basically a person in love.

But then why did you do it? Why did you even make homemade chocolate for Satoru Gojo in honor of the fourteenth of February?..

You froze, looking at the sorcerer who said something like "are you frozen, struck by my beauty?". You thought about what he said... and then you nodded.

 Gojo has been close to you for several years now. People might call him annoying... but you found his behavior funny.

 You liked his jokes and antics. Yes, sometimes his pranks got out of hand, you felt more shame than laughter, but... in the end, you couldn't be mad at Gojo.

 Satoru was the one who always protected you on missions because you were "too weak". He was the one who threw a cold water bottle at you on hot days. He was the one who talked about himself and his "incredible coolness " over and over again when you were feeling bad, until you switched to anger at him, forgetting about your problems.

After all... Satoru wasn't as "bad" as some people thought he was. Or maybe you're already used to the fact that he's such an active, funny, and funny fool.

You didn't know why he fell in love with you. Maybe you just handed him a dessert when he was weak, and he remembered you as his hero. It doesn't matter…

Because you tripped over a rock!

You flew down in a rush, but suddenly big hands grabbed you by the waist. Gojo lifted you off the ground vertically and laughed, there were tears in his heavenly eyes.

–Y-you tripped in the air?! I want to make a GIF out of this! It was just perfect!

–Y-yeah, yeah, I know… Can you put me on the ground? I can't give you chocolate in this state.

 Satoru nodded enthusiastically and placed you on the ground. It vibrated impatiently on the spot, reaching out to you and waiting for you to give it a sweet. You looked at his face carefully. His skin was as pale as usual.

You gave him the box. Gojo started chatting about how he was so incredible that they even made him homemade chocolate. Satoru put the lid aside... and you were horrified to see that all the candies had flown up and got tangled up, so the phrase was impossible to read.

While Gojo chewed happily and theatrically, enjoying your cooking and praising you, you clenched your hands into fists. You didn't know what to do. You couldn't just give up and walk away. You…

–Gojo-san, did you like the candy?

–Yes! – he looked at you with great joy. – You made them especially for me? Oh-oh-oh, (Y/N), you're such a good and hardworking girl!..

It started pulling at your cheek. You listened to his phrase. He didn't sound serious, he was teasing you.

And you couldn't stand this ambiguity any longer.

–Gojo-san, by the way... can you call my phone? I lost it somewhere in my bag, I can't find it…

–I can use my Si…

He suddenly shut up and suddenly started nodding vigorously. He took out his phone and asked you to give him your phone number. You were talking digit by digit, shrinking from the inside out and afraid that it would end right now... no, you were afraid that you didn't know how it would end.

 And now the end has come. The last digit. Gojo tapped the screen with his finger…

–I think you gave me your phone number wrong. I called Nanamin for some reason…

You took your phone out of your bag with a trembling hand and looked at the screen. All of a sudden it became bright, two options appeared. "Accept incoming call" and "Cancel incoming call". You hit the green button under the shocked gaze of the sorcerer and bring the phone to your ear.

–Hello?

 Gojo stood blinking in surprise for a few seconds, then canceled the call.

–S-so... everything I wrote... wasn't seen by Nanamin, but b-by you?

–Y-yes, – you gulped and nodded. – And I wanted to talk about it…

Before you finished your sentence, Satoru threw his phone at you and ran off in an unknown direction so fast that you didn't quite understand where he ran to in the first place. The only thing you realized... was that his face, ears, and neck were completely red.

 You are left alone with your thoughts, feelings... and his phone.

After that failed declaration of love (or whatever it was?), you were on missions for several days and couldn't talk to Gojo. Just in case, you carried his phone with you, so that if something happened, you could give it back. So when you finally got back to your apartment, showered, and ate... there was a knock on your door.

 Satoru was on the doorstep. It looked calm when you looked through the peephole in the door, but now that you opened it, it was getting redder and redder before your eyes.

–Um... I came to get my phone, and... my mistakes and my shame.

–Do you want to... talk about it?

–I t-think... you already know.

You looked at Gojo and were surprised. You've never seen him look so confused. Usually Satoru made all the people lose their patience and calmness… but now, he was the one who had lost his playfulness and fun.

You silently stepped aside, hinting at the sorcerer to come in. But he didn't budge from his spot in the communal hallway.

–Um... please come inside, I don't want any of the neighbors to see the mess in my apartment. I think... we need to talk.

–Ar-re you sure... you want to do this after everything I've written... to you?

–Yes. Because... your words really supported me when I was having a hard time, – you smiled faintly and hid your embarrassment by burying your nose in your shoulder. – So... please... let's talk.

 Gojo Satoru, a great sorcerer, the strongest user of cursed energy in this generation, a tall and incredibly handsome man... came into your apartment blushing and hunching like a teenager. You smiled faintly and closed the door behind him so that he wouldn't run away.

Because you couldn't escape his messages. And now he... won't be able to run away from you either. Perhaps... it's time for him to know what you think of him, too, even if you tell him all this while looking him straight in the eye... and not through messages on your phone.

[In my head, it looked better... eh…]

[immediatebreakfast]

I love how Renfield is the oldest (59) and Mina is very likely the living youngest, and yet they bond so well. (It reminds me how well Mina befriended the 99 year old Mr Swales that he sought her company and felt care for her.) It probably contributed that Jack may have experience with interacting with "madmen" and studying, Mina had lived with and loved a "madman".

It's truly incredible how a simple conversation between an old man in physical cell, and a young woman in a mental cell put such a dent in the Count's plans that he had to flee to Transylvania once it was clear that nothing would stop the crew.

Even if the repercutions were huge in the narrative, in between the horror and the action it was just a visit (probably the first visit that Renfield had in a long time) to talk.

Reading again the entry I noticed how hostile Renfield is towards Mina at first,

"You're not the girl the doctor wanted to marry, are you? You can't be, you know, for she's dead." - R.M. Renfield, september 30.

and even with everything one can say about sexism, and the building infantilization of Mina, let's remember that this is the first time Renfield meets someone that is specifically associated with Jack. Renfield's remarked abuser in both authority, and personhood in general. Also by probably being informed by Dracula himself that both Mina and Jonathan are the key players in this continuous attacks against his plans in England, on top of just almost correctly assuming that Mina must share the same opinion towards the mentally ill that society has.

Three strikes against Mina that she switfly defeats by treating Renfield like the person he is, and talking to him in a normal manner. After taking care of her beloved Jonathan, and being at Lucy's side most of her life Mina is aware of how the Other is viewed. Maybe as she saw Renfield, Mina thought of a worse reality where the man on the bed was her Jonathan in Budapest, maybe she saw how Seward reacted to Renfield's words, and realized what was actually layed out in the room. Or maybe Mina just saw an old man in need of an ear, and she just listened.

This is the first time that Renfield puts a face on a victim of the Count's games, he puts a voice on the young victim whose life is going to violently end in what he thought was supposed to be eternal bliss. Lucy is a distant dream for Renfield, the revenge against these people who dared to put up a fight against this old ancient evil that goes beyond all of their years combined.

Renfield never knew Lucy, but he knows Mina now.

Renfield sees the young Mina Harker, entering life with her equal young husband in hand, and trying to solve the murder of what he knows now was her best friend, and he reflects. He reflects on everything he has done, on what has passed, and what he can do tomorrow.

Mr. Renfield asked if he might see me. Poor man, he was very gentle, and when I came away he kissed my hand and bade God bless me. Some way it affected me much; I am crying when I think of him. This is a new weakness, of which I must be careful. Jonathan would be miserable if he knew I had been crying. - Mina Harker, october 2.

And the man is devastated to see how he is helping orchestrate the murder of another young lady to please the Count. He becomes desperate to leave (a request that is denied by both Seward, and Van Helsing), so the Count can't have access to the inside of the asylum. It doesn't matter if he looks like a coward by the time's literary standards because if the only way to at least save that young lady is by acting like one? Then Renfield might as well do it, he has nothing to lose sans his life.

I think that the key difference between Mina, and Jack when it comes to Renfield is empathy, and the ability to simply treat the other person with the same humanity you should be treated.

Jack may have studied, and climbed until he got to be the head of an asylum, but his own biases, mental problems, and ableism blurred the lines between patient and doctor so hard that he made Renfield's life a boring hell. From when their dynamic was introduced, to Renfield's death, the narrative dictated how Seward was putting both into a deep spiral in which, not even with Renfield's manipulations, none of them were going to come out in victory.

In contrast, Mina has cared for Jonathan without any restrain, and has lived in service of what the situation demands of her at all times. She knows, as a young victorian lady, how to balance herself without trying to compete, or win the other person in the room with her. Mina only needed to genuinely talk to Renfield to break his heart because she gave him the respect, and honestly she expects for herself when talking.

[befuddled-calico-whump]

Total $hit$how: Good Cop

in which Jericho cracks a wall

cw: aftermath of violence, adult language

previous // masterlist // next

×~×~×

When Harbor's hour was almost up, Jericho made his way back to the briefing room, a hopeful plan at the ready and a nervous feeling in his gut, every step closer to the door jiggling at his nerves like jello.

The word interrogation didn't exactly fill his head with pleasant images. In movies, it was usually portrayed as torture, ineffective on the protagonist but shockingly useful against any minions the heroes snatched for intel. In real life, he'd experienced something like it once or twice. Corporate cronies trying to grill a confession out of him; entrapping questions intended to get him to admit to anything they could twist into something worthy of an arrest. Those were some of the scariest moments of his life, and even though he'd insisted on his own ignorance, in the end he was only saved by a lack of evidence of his hacking activities (hacktivities?).

Jericho's own encounters had been pretty mild, but he still wasn't eager to put anyone else through it. 

Then again, this was just a challenge, wasn't it? Succeeding didn't mean they'd suddenly be required to hurt Finley, it only meant Sahota wouldn't kill her. If they managed to win, maybe they could pursue Joy's original idea and just talk to the woman. Whether she was a hardened criminal or not, surely she'd be willing to help if she knew the safety of the city was on the line.

…But that was all a big if. Unless Harbor had managed to pull a trick out of his hat, no one had been successful so far, which left Jericho. Jericho going toe-to-toe against Sahota's boundless willpower. No big deal, just a stranger's life hanging in the balance.

If he failed, could they still back out?

There were other avenues. Both Sahota and Vic had been clear on that, but the group's own insistence had gotten them to this point. If they completely gave up on Finley as a lead now, they'd have just wasted a day, and he doubted Vic would be very happy about that, but between wasting a day and throwing away an entire person, Jericho knew what he'd choose. 

From the moment the challenge was announced, he knew what method he'd be using. Bad-cop good-cop, sans the bad-cop. In his experience, difficult people could be swayed to a cause if the reason behind it was just explained, if he pled to their humanity and compassion. And sure, some people were so far up their own bias that they'd refuse to listen, but it was worth a try.

Hell, it was how he got Ari to take a chance on asparagus. 

He was prepared to act on the same technique he'd use if they actually won, if they got a chance with Finley: Just talk. A conversation might be all they needed. The Reality Cage was potentially destructive. If Finley knew that, knew what was at stake, wouldn't she help them? It wasn't even as if she'd be responsible for destroying it. She'd just have to tell them how. Some part of her had to exist that would want them to succeed, to save people.

Jericho was inclined to believe that the same could be said about Sahota. He'd given them this chance in the first place, hadn't he? Why let them try at all, unless he wasn't too keen on killing Finley either? If that was true, if this was more than just a lesson in their own inadequacy, Jericho had hope that this whole mission wouldn't wind up as violent as he feared.

Footsteps drew his attention back to the corridor ahead, and he looked up to see Harbor, head drooping, wild multicolored hair obscuring his face. His walk was usually something between a sway and a stumble, but it looked more erratic now, with him nearly bumping into the walls as he went.

“Hey,” Jericho started, but his voice caught when his gaze landed on Harbor's hands. His knuckles were red, skin splitting in some places, blood drying in the lines of his fingers. Totally cut up, and not from the morning’s sparring matches, so that meant… Jericho’s stomach twisted.

Sahota.

Harbor didn't look up, passing right by him as if he wasn't even aware he was there.

“Harbor—”

“Fuck off,” he said in a voice that sounded bitten off, and disappeared around the corner. Jericho had to stop himself from chasing after the other man, from asking what happened.

It was pretty clear what had happened, but why? Harbor was rough around the edges, but he didn't seem like the kind of person who enjoyed hurting someone else, especially not a someone else who was already injured. A part of him hoped that he was jumping to conclusions, that Harbor had just… punched the wall or something to try and intimidate their trainer. But before he made it to the end of the hall, before he could even open the door, he knew what he would see.

An anxious sort of nausea built in Jericho’s stomach as he took in the scene, deliberately avoiding the focus of it as long as he could. The briefing room had been cleared, the big table pushed to one side to make space for the day's challenge. 

In the center, tied to a chair, sat Sahota. Blood and spit hung from his face in sticky strands, and his head sat heavy atop his shoulders, like he was struggling to keep it up. His cheek was split, the cut on his lip reopened and dribbling blood, and the eye that had been bruised was now nearly swollen shut.

Jericho’s heart beat faster. 

“Is your plan just to stand there?” Sahota mumbled. “Or do you have a better idea?”

And he was just acting like it hadn’t happened. Jericho had already gathered that Sahota didn't like to show any weakness, but this was bigger than pride. Their trainer had been hurt, while he was tied down, by someone who was supposed to be on their team.

“Are you okay?” He clearly wasn't.

“Fine.”

“Did Harbor do this?” Why was he asking such stupid, obvious questions? Why couldn't he make himself step forward to untie the other man? Because of how little he wanted to believe it was true? Because of how surreal it was?

“I… I told him to,” Sahota replied.

What? Hadn’t he warned them all not to do anything he couldn’t sleep off? No matter how tough Sahota was, this didn’t look like it fell into that category.

“Let me cut you loose,” Jericho said, finally breaking a leg free of the uncertainty that held it captive, taking a step closer.

“No,” Sahota said, and he froze in his tracks. “Do what you came to do or get out. I don’t need your help.”

Jericho grimaced. “Should we really continue? You should get cleaned up, maybe—”

“I said I'm fine.”

Same song, different verse. He'd said he was fine yesterday, even after they'd all seen the video that so clearly told them he wasn't. 

“Sahota…”

“Davis,” he answered in a clipped tone. “If you can't ignore the blood, leave.” He took a shaky breath, coughed, sent little flecks of red flying. “Tell me what information you're after and pursue it, or get out.”

Jericho exhaled through clenched teeth. It was pretty clear that no matter what he said, their trainer was determined to suffer through this. Was there any point in continuing? He could just leave. Walk away, abandon Sahota to his own wounds and pride, but it didn't feel right. What would happen? How long would it take Sahota to get free on his own? Better to finish the exercise and hope his trainer allowed help after it was completed.

“Okay,” he said, letting out a resigned sigh. “I want to know your first name. That’s what I’m after.”

“Then get on with it.”

Jericho took a deep breath. Ignore the blood. How was he supposed to do that?

“Hey,” he began, forcing a smile. “My… uh, my name's Jericho. I have a few questions for you, and…” he couldn't stay on track with this. He couldn't just pretend Sahota wasn't actively in pain in front of him.

“And I'd like to apologize for any rough treatment you received before I got here. It… that wasn't my intention,” he said. “I didn't want to hurt you.”

Sahota scoffed. It sounded closer to a wheeze. “Do you think Finley will buy that?”

“I don't… Maybe.” Jericho sighed. “Let me start again. Hey,” he said. “You… uh, you have some information that I need. Pretty badly." Everything he said just sounded dumb. "I want to know your name. Sounds weird, I know, but this… you could help me stop a lot of people from getting hurt.”

“What if she doesn't care?” Sahota said.

“There's hundreds of thousands of people in this city,” Jericho continued, trying not to let the other man's words deter him. “Right now, all of them are at risk. If you’ll just work with me here, we can keep them safe.”

Sahota didn't answer. And really, he had a point. Even if Finley did care about the well-being of the city, she’d have no reason to believe anything they said. How could they convince her?

“My family doesn't live here,” Jericho tried. He was truly thankful that they didn't. Having to worry about their safety, their potential destruction at the hands of an uncaring company would be terrible.

“My mom, daughter, aunts, uncles, cousins… they're not the ones in danger," he continued. "But people like them are. I’d never be able to sleep again if something just… destroyed people's lives. Something I could've prevented.” He clasped his hands together, hoped the motion looked sincere. “That's why I'm here. I don't want to hurt you. I don't want to be your enemy. I just want to help people.”

Jericho sighed when that didn't get a response. He shouldn't be too disheartened. Sahota probably just didn't have much energy for conversation. Not after Harbor… did that. He glanced down at his own knuckles, still sore from fighting the taserbots just a few days ago. He'd saved Harbor. He’d thought they were finally starting to meld together and work as a team, but teammates didn't do this to each other. Even if Sahota had ordered it, why would he take it that far?

“I'm sorry about what happened,” he said. “I know someone on my team hurt you.” He swallowed. “Whoever… whoever touched you was in the wrong. You didn't deserve to be hurt like that, and… I'm sorry.” He was. He really was. He'd need to find Harbor after this. They could talk it out.

“I won't let it happen again,” Jericho said. “If someone tries to touch you, just let me know, okay? I'll stop them. I know I'm basically a stranger, but I promise I want to help you. I promise you're not alone. I—”

He stopped at an odd noise. A catch in Sahota's breath, a sound that was oddly familiar but out of place. It took a second for Jericho to realize that Ari made a sound just like it sometimes. When she was trying not to cry.

“Sahota?”

No answer, just another shaky inhale. Shoot, he knew he shouldn't have proceeded, not when he was all beat up like this. Even with Finley on the line… Vic be damned, he'd fight for it to be nothing more than a wasted day. He was fine abandoning the lead, he was fine admitting defeat here.

He wasn't fine leaving Sahota like this.

Jericho exhaled sharply through his nose, crossing the room in two strides to reach the chair their trainer was strapped to and setting to work on the knots. Surprisingly, Sahota didn't tell him off this time, just sat with his head bent and his shoulders shaking.

Why was he crying? Of course, Jericho couldn't blame him. He was probably overwhelmed with everything that was going on, and this was just the straw that had broken the camel's back. But what was ‘this’? What had been his breaking point? Had something he said triggered it?

He fumbled with the ropes, eventually managing to find a weak point in each knot and pull them loose, letting the bindings coil to the floor.

Now with his arms free, Sahota buried his face in his hands.

“Fuck,” he whispered in a thick voice. “I… I don't know what came over me. I'm sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” Jericho said, taking a step back. The other man refused to look up. He could understand if he was embarrassed. Holding up an emotionless, unshakable facade all the time must be exhausting, but it would also be jarring to ever let it drop. He got it.

“The exercise is over,” Sahota said, still not raising his head.

“Alright.” Jericho couldn't let himself be mad about it. He'd given it a try, but if their trainer was just too overwhelmed right now, and no way was Jericho going to push him further. They could worry about Finley later. “Seriously though, are you okay?” he said. “There's no shame in not being fine. I know you're under a lot of stress.”

It took a moment for the other man to respond. “Go wait by the mats. I need to reset this room.”

I need some time alone.

“Okay,” Jericho said softly, backing towards the door. “Do you… want a hand getting patched up?”

“I'll handle it.”

Alright. He wouldn't push him. “Okay,” he said again. “I… guess I'll give you some space.” 

It felt like it was all for nothing. Their idea for a peaceful approach had already resulted in violence, and for what? They’d all failed. They were no closer to their goal than they'd been yesterday. 

He had one foot out the door when Sahota called after him.

“Davis.” It wasn't loud. It sounded uncertain, like he might ‘nevermind’ him and send him on his way. Jericho turned around, determined to be patient, to show he was at least willing to listen, even if their trainer said nothing else. But instead of sitting silent, instead of ordering him off, Sahota spoke. His head stayed bowed, hands tangled tightly around each other, eyes on the floor.

“It's Ander,” he said. “My name is Ander.”

×~×~×

tag list:

@theonewithallthefixations , @violets-whumperflies , @whump-me , @pirefyrelight , @soheavyaburden , @snakebites-and-ink , @whumpsday , @kixngiggles , @echo-goes-aaa , @whumpcateyes , @clickerflight

[yuckydraws]

(Click for better quality)

Grumpleumplepants himself

Few Word Characteristics

Alert

Decisive

Organized

Witty

Abrasive

Stubborn

Violent

Brash

Grumpy

Possessive

Information on his design/character

He's the second shortest of all the guys. Do not mention his height if you value your limbs and hearing. It's a touchy subject.

His facial scar is somewhat of a recent injury. He got it back in his universe underground. Alphys and him got in a fight about Chara. Vant was trying to protect them and convince Alphys not to go after their soul. He thought she would listen to him... but the scar that half-blinded him says otherwise.

He's got quite the scowly demeanor. You're more likely to get a smirk than a genuine smile from him.

His bandana is all sorts of teared up and battered, yet he still wears it with pride. It contrasts his otherwise well put-together image, but not many people point it out.

He's got a few tattoos, all fairly close to each other. A rose vine on his sternum (roses are his favorite flower), a memorial W.D. tattoo on his right collarbone, and a pi symbol on his left collarbone.

He's always needed reading glasses, even before the eye socket injury, but finds them annoying to wear. He'll often go without unless he's going to be reading more than paragraph or two. What? Why's he glaring at the menu? Well, these assholes should make their letters bigger, that's why.

He has a scar that stretches across three vertebrae of his spine. He got it while shielding Pup from an attack when he was a teenager. It never healed quite right (there wasn't exactly a doctor who gave enough of a shit about some random kid who couldn't pay them to help him out in that regard) and causes pain flare ups every so often. It always aches, but his flare ups make it hard to even get out of bed.

As with most of the 'Fell guys, his body is littered with scars, big and small.

He's got a rather long tail, and uses it in an almost cat-like way. When he's angry? It swishes back and forth aggressively. When he's surprised? It'll stick straight out. It's possible to get it wagging in a happy way... but you'll have to work for it.

He's always had a knack for math. He's used this to become a financial advisor, though he could easily keep up with much more difficult calculations. He'd never share this with Sans. He's rather get run over than help him with his little "project" in the basment.

He enjoys to crochet in his free time, but it's something he would take to the grave.

He also enjoys baking, though he doesn't bother to hide that. You can always tell when he's stressed by how much time he's spending in the kitchen making sweet treat after sweet treat.

Like many of the other energetic personalities, he stays active. He'll spar with the others, but when it comes to personal exercises, he tends to stick to weightlifting (when his spine will allow him) and boxing.

[carlyraejepsans]

what is your personal take on frisk-centric angst? I love a good creechur silly goofy frisk, I hold them very dear, but then I think abt an unattended child who falls into a mountain and? Has nobody to go home to after escaping?? It would seem? And I think ohh... poor kiddo.....

yes yes yes YES YES. listen i understand people who want their faves coddled and cozed and who feel bad when they suffer, but i am of the olde schoole of torture your darlings so i eat that shit up!!!! though instead of frisk-centric i usually prefer to see their angst through the lenses of another character acting as an observer. sans or toriel or papyrus, or flowey and chara too.

i like to hc that frisk was homeless before climbing mt ebott. not orphaned, their parents are still out there, but either they were abandoned or they ran away from home. if chara's abuse was more actice/violent, then frisk's was passive, out of neglect rather than brute force.

honestly it's been a while since i did anything with the sans rp blog, but the way me and tali set the conflict up for that version of frisk was that because of their neglect, they had no mental concept (or well, experience) of what a parent is supposed to be. that concept is abstract to them, if not completely alien, so they approach toriel being their mom kinda... laterally? like "okay, I'm gonna call you mom. now, to figure out what that means to me..."

which went to add to Toriel's own gripes and baggage with HER motherhood, and sans' own issues with commitment and responsibility. disfunctional little family <3 but the best part was, that didn't stop frisk from being creechur and silly goofy! they're not realities that have to contradict each other, that can just be their personality. besides, being funny and charismatic is a very useful trait to have when you're on your own out there.

they're a little street rascal, like someone out of the irregulars from the sherlock holmes books. that's the way i like to see them :]

[astroyongie]

Wet Castle

Note: This took me a while, I hope you guys enjoy it ! 

pairings: Wooyoung x YN and San x YN 

synopsis: After growing up in one of the most dangerous Seoul Gangs, a strange accident made you decide to cut ties with your affiliation and leave the gang you were so attached with. You moved to Itaewon, doing small works for money, until the day you met Wooyoung, a nice guy next door who worked right under a small coffee shop. You can’t help getting closer to Wooyoung, knowing fairly well that your past life will never leave you alone.. 

Triggers:  harsh language, mentions of traumatic pasts, guns and alcohol 

Read Part Two: Here

Part Three

You had followed Wooyoung to one of his favorite bars. It was a small place, hidden between the small streets in Itaewon. Neon lights decorated the walls, providing lights mingled in pallets of green, blue and purple. To your surprise, the streets were not as crowded as the main street. For once it felt nice, the usual drunkyard noises long gone.

As the night poured its darkness over Seoul, you started to feel more chilly. Wrapping your arms around your body, you followed Wooyoung inside the small bar. The soft music played in the background. The place wasn't full, probably only 10 people were around, along with the two bartenders. The atmosphere wasn't as dark as other pubs. Instead the artificial lights provided a warm cozy vibe. 

You both sat at one of the tables, facing each other. Here, the usual chairs had been replaced with small red couches, allowing you to relax your body on them. You looked around, taking in the sight and immersing yourself on the place. By reflex, you were quick to identify the way outs of the bar, the people that were around and their vibe. Identifying enemies in the public had been something that you had been taught ever since you were a child. Some habits were hard to die.

“You okay?” Wooyoung asked, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“Yeah sorry.” you said brushing him off. “I never came here before”

“They serve the best margaritas”

You looked at Wooyoung with a dumb expression. He was serious. You chuckled. “Do you seriously have margaritas when you go out to drink?”

“Yeah” he said naturally and you cuffed in amusement.

“That's why you are single, brat”

His embarrassment made you smirked. As the bartender came to your table, you allowed Wooyoung to order for both. Pulling one of your cigarettes on your lips, you light it up, taking the first hit. 

“You were mocking my taste in alcohol and yet, there you are allowing me to choose for you”

“I need to get to know the taste on my enemy”

“Oh?” he asked, amused this time. “Do I look like a menace”

“A menace for taste buds”

He laughed, pushing his hair out of his face. A pathetic move that made you gazed at the boy intensely, more than you had wished for. You were here for a good time and you would rather drink whatever he would have, than pouring yourself strong alcohols. You couldn't allow yourself to get drunk while being around Wooyoung. For his sake, and yours.

Without any surprise, Wooyoung was a very easy guy to talk to. Each time you spoke he would watch you with bright eyes, swallowing any word that you throw at him, despite most of them being insults and critics to his tastes. 

But he didn’t complain.

In return, he spoke to you about his studies. You learnt that he had pursued an art career but he hadn't found any job that suited him, hence his current part time job. You made a mental note of that. With your connections, you were sure that you could find him a good job. 

You drank. Such thoughts weren’t something that you should allow yourself to have, especially considering your current situation. Wooyoung made everything seem easy and attainable. His personality was a contrast of the violent life you had known all your life, and you couldn't help but be drawn to that kind of feeling.

Wooyoung laughed loudly, his dimples poking. You didn’t know why he was laughing. Hell, you had not been listening to him, your mind was lost on the possibilities you could have around him to fully pay attention to his words. You had no clue if he had caught your inattention, but if he had, he hasn't said anything. Shit, he was too good. 

Taking sips of his drink, his eyes became half lidded, his body curving to your side as if he was trying to get closer to you. It was adorable to be honest, despite your initial annoyance with him.

“So tell me more about you” Wooyoung said, putting an end to his monologue as he took a gulp from what seemed to be a tonic gin. You grimaced at his drink of choice, playing with the straw of your own drink. A negroni. His taste really was awful. You crossed your legs, and let out a little sigh.

“There’s nothing important or interesting to say”

“That’s up to me to judge” He said, his body leaning more toward you.

“Are you trying to dig shit on me, brat?”

“Of course not. But I have shared about my life and I only know about your name” he explained.

You took a sip of the negroni, humming. “I don’t know anything interesting about you other than your art studies and your awful alcohol taste.”

“Well that's not true” Wooyoung said, his eyes studying you. He did seem a little hurt by the lack of engagement on your part which made you internal wince.  “You know that I am a gentleman that saves ladies from drunkyards and that I have a good job at Pirate Coffee Shop” you chuckled at his outcome, trying to lighten up the mood. You took another sip. 

“Are you paid well at least?” 

“Enough” he admitted with a grin “the old man is a friend of my grandpa, gotta keep around”

“I see” you answered before exchanging a long silence. Your eyes were on him and he didnt dodge either. You have to admit, Wooyoung was a good flirt with his eyes and he had proven himself a rather good company. You wanted to tell him about you. But there was nothing worth sharing, nothing that would have made him stay anyway. And you wanted to be greedy just a little longer, keep him just a little longer. 

“It’s okay” Wooyoung finally broke the silence, a little smile on his face “you don't have to tell me about yourself, if you don't feel comfortable”

Ah, shit. you wanted to slap him. Fuck, you wanted to kiss him too. 

“You just like being a green flag, don't you?” you asked and Wooyoung gave you a questioning look. “I mean, you are quite considered for a guy”

“I was raised by my mother. She taught me well, I guess” he shrugged.

“No, Wooyoung,” You corrected. “you just have basic human decency”

“I will take that as a compliment” 

You both chuckle before exchanging another rather long gaze. He didn't seem to battle one eyelash and you also didn't want to lose this stupid little content. You felt your body lean into his, searching for more contact. Before doing anything you would regret later, the loud noises inside the bar caught both your attention. On the small stage at the corner of the bar, two people had microphones in their hands. They started what seemed to be a session of karaoke, cheered by the other people inside the bar. As the loud music starts playing and the voices of the two strangers resonated, you massaged your temples. This truly wasn't the type of bar you had the habit of visiting.  This was low taste and rather cheap. 

Looking at Wooyoung, you saw the meanest grin plastered on his face. It made you frown. 

“What?” you asked

“Wanna sing?”

“You out of your mind” you said, grabbing your drink and taking a rather long gulp, until it was finished. Smalling the glass on the table, he leaned his head on his hand, a playful smirk on dancing on his plum lips.

“What? didn't know the almighty Y/N was scared of the crowd”

“I am not scared!” you quickly defended yourself, your eyes on him. Shit.. he was playing you and you were falling on it. “I just don't do this type of shit”

“Yeah whatever, you can just admit you are terrified”

You looked at him, and Wooyoung smiled at you. The way his dimples were showing was making your stomach twist interestingly. You looked away and groaned, torn between wiping off the grin of his face or kissing him right there and here

“Buy me two tequila shots and I will humiliate you on stage”

His grin grew impossibly wider. “Bet on”

It didn't take long. Wooyoung stood up and fetched the drinks. You both drank together, your tongue burning at the strong alcohol. You had never sang karaoke in your entire life, you like hell you would let this bastard win and make fun of you. 

You had no idea how things had happened. One second you were settling the alcohol on your stomach and the other second, Wooyoung had his hand wrapped on yours, dragging you to the stage. you prayed the alcohol was making his appearance quick. 

But you had to admit. For the first time in your pathetic mafia life, you were having fun without a care in the world. One song became two and two became three until you lost count of the songs and drinks you had. 

On the stage, you sang loudly, drink in hand and a pair of sunglasses on your face that you had probably stolen from someone in the audience. You and Wooyoung poured everything out, singing out of key and probably sounding like dying goats. But people were claiming you both, cheering you on as you both sang song after song. At one point in the evening, you were singing with unknown people, sharing drinks and by the end of it, you were lying flat on one of the couches. 

You felt your mind dizzy from the alcohol, your head laying on Wooyoung’s shoulders. He caressed your tight every so slightly, his free hand raised in the air, singing along to the song that was being sung by random people on stage. 

You closed your eyes, taking in his peppermint scent. It was fresh yet musky enough to make you feel comfortable. His jacket was tightly wrapped around your shoulders and you didn’t remember when he had landed you his clothing. You felt Wooyoung's fingers brushing against your hair, awakening you from your semi unconscious state. Suddenly aware of your surroundings, you quickly recoil, pushing away from Wooyoung. Then, both of you exchanged eye contact and you felt your cheeks reddened in embarrassment. No way this man had made you completely lose the awareness of your surroundings.

“You okay?” he asked amused

“Yeah, sorry didn't mean to be a dead weight on you” you said, rubbing your neck and chuckling to get rid of your own shyness.

“It's fine” he brushed it off with a smile, his dimples showing full force. “wanna get out of here?”

You looked at Wooyoung in disbelief, trying to catch any sign of sub-intentos. But as always his eyes were soft, almost innocent and that annoyed you. One part of you wished he would be more assertive and give you what you had been craving since he had been this close to you. The fact he was so close yet so distant drove you insane.

“Yeah, let's go. It's getting late anyway. Don't you have to work tomorrow?” you asked as you stood up from your seat. Wooyoung mimicked you.

“I do”

“Shit, we should have gone home sooner” you said as you looked at your watch, indicating that it was already past 3 in the morning. Wooyoung grinned before taking your hand to get out of the bar. He gently pushed you to the front, his hand resting on the smaller of your back to guide you through the crowd. Once you both reach outside, your lungs breathe in the fresh cold air. It felt refreshing, yet you were already missing the intoxicating smell of nicotine. Or perhaps of peppermint.

“Can I take you home?” Wooyoung asked and you looked at him, a grin plastered on your face.

“What a gentleman-way to ask me to get inside my pants, brat”

“What? No!” he quickly said, a shade of pink tinting his cheeks as you both walked down the street “I would never”

“You would never fuck me?” you asked in a teasing manner and he groaned, rubbing his face in embarrassment. Despite the darkness, you could still see how his face was lit up, probably helped by the alcohol.

“Y/n just stop teasing me, I am too drunk for that”

“You walking straight bastard, you ain’t drunk enough” You pointed out, as you grabbed his arm for support

He simply smiled, walking by your side as you both remained silent, enjoying the company of each other. The streets were empty, but you didn't feel alone. The warmth of Wooyoung’s body makes you feel comfortable. As you were reaching to the staircase of your apartment, your body shifted. You noticed the black tinted windows car stopped in the street. You felt the awareness crawling in your spine. Shit, they were here again. 

You heard Wooyoung talking to you, but you didn't hear a word. Instead you grabbed his arm in urgency, hushing him from his own words. He looked down at you confused.

“Get out of here” you said in the most cold, quiet voice you could master. “don't ask why, don't turn back, just get straight home”

“what? Y/n is something wro–”

“Y/n”

You cursed under your breath as you heard Yeosang’s voice calling you. The man who had been standing in the shadows, walked toward you, his eyes discarding the existence of Wooyoung. You couldn’t believe your luck. Letting go of Wooyoung, you stepped in front of him, hoping that it would be enough to shield him from Yeosang. 

“What are you doing here? I told you not to come back here again”

“I am just doing my job” Yeosang spoke, as he threw the butt of his unfinished cigarette on the ground.

“Well it's fucking annoying” you said, your face warmign up from the conflicted emotion. Yeosang wasn’t loyal to you, he was loyal to San. Despite your higher rank, you were currently not in the gang to mean anything to him and therefore, Wooyoung could be caught in the fire. 

Yeosang sighed. “Please, get in the car, Sa–”

“Fuck off, Yeosang” you murmured, sending a death glare his way. Yeosang retributed the gesture, taking a step closer to you. But as he did so, Wooyoung pushed you behind his back. Your eyes widen, anxiety rushing through your veins.

“Hey dude, I don't know what your problem is, but she doesn't want to speak to you. So please, move on” Wooyoung's voice got slightly threatening, his gaze sustaining Yeosang’s. You cursed under your breath, the damn brat not taking a freaking hint of your warning. Yeosang looked at him uninterested, before looking at you from behind Wooyoung’s shoulders. 

“Are you going to fuck this one too? Your standard have reach quite low–”

You wanted to rip Yeosang’s face out, stab his fucking neck for the lack of respect he had been treating you ever since you had quit the gang. You deserved it, you knew you did. But it made you angry nonetheless. 

“Hey!!” Woyyoung's voice got louder, his body shifting. You could tell he was getting genuinely upset “I don't know who the hell you are, but–”

You let out a loud gasp when Yeosang took his gun out of his holder and pointed it to Wooyoung, his eyes hinting that your friend’s existence was unspoken for. Wooyoung froze in place, shock overwhelming him. You quickly got in front again, your hand going to Yeosang’s gun and pulling it close to your own body. You knew he wouldn't dare to shoot you.

“The fuck you think you are doing?!” you screamed at him, anger making your body shiver “You out of your fucking mind, Yeosang?”

He did not answer, instead he groaned, pulling his gun back to his holder. “San wants to talk to you. Please, get into the car.”

You bit your tongue in rage, weighing your options. You had no weapon on you and you couldn't lose control in front of Wooyoung. You didn't want to, that would terminate something you earned for. Wooyoung’s safety came first, and you needed to act based on that. 

Fuck. You cursed out loud, sending a glare to the car parked on the other side. Turning around, you looked at Wooyoung whose face was blank. Probably in confusion and fear. You couldn't blame him. Pushing your hand inside your pocket, you reached for your keys. 

“Wooyoung” you called but he did not answer you, his eyes still on your Yeosang “Hey, brat, listen to me!” you called, pulling at his shoulder until he looked down at you “This is the keys to my flat. It’s the 301. Get in, lock in. I will be back. Don't come out until I come back” 

Wooyoung looked at you and you felt all the questions dancing behind his eyes. You felt his anger, his indignation and his confusion. 

“I won't be letting you with this psycho!” He yelled, reaching for his phone “I will call the cops–”

“Stop it” You said aggressively, which startled him. “I am fine! Just do what you are told, please” you reassured him, squeezing his lower arm, before pursing your lips together “Please, just go”

He stood there silent, exchanging his gaze between you and Yeosang. You sighed in relief when he nodded. Then, grabbing the keys from your hands, Wooyoung walked past you and Yeosang in direction to the staircases. You waited, your eyes following the boy as he walked up before disappearing inside the complex. 

Your eyes went straight to Yeosang who seemed to be more relaxed, his hands going to his pockets. You walked to him while he was gazing at the ground.

“San wants to–”

Yeosang yelped, taking a few steps back as he felt the impact of your fist connect against his jaw. He groaned in discomfort, holding his chin as you looked at him with spite. “Point a gun at what's mine and I will fucking rip your head. Are we clear?”

Yeosang spat blood on the ground, before recomposing himself, his eyes narrowing in annoyance. “Don't be so damn sensitive about a random guy”

“It's not about a random guy, it’s about you not knocking your place and fucking disrespecting me, you dipshit”

After these words you turned around, walking toward the car that was still parked there. Before you got inside you turned your body, looking at Yeosang who already had his eyes on the staircase that led to your flat.

“Yeosang” you called “I hereby forbid you to touch that boy. If you do, you will lose more than just your hands”

Yeosang looked at you almost uninterested but you knew by the glow of his eye that he had understood the threat. Even if he wasn’t working under you, he worked for San. And San wouldn't tolerate you being upset, or thus, you hoped. Pulling at the door’s handle, you opened the car, before climbing in. The scent of expensive cologne hit your nose as you closed the door. The immersive presence of San overwhelmed your senses and you felt your body crisp. Looking at him, his eyes were already on you, his face stern. 

“The fuck you want?” you asked, wrapping Wooyoung’s jacket around your body in a stupid attempt to stop the shivers that this man gave you, each time his eyes landed on you. 

“Quite a spectacle you did out there”

“I swear to fucking god if you have nothing interesting to tell me, I am leaving and setting you all fuckers on fire!”

San snickered at your nasty mood, before giving the driver some instructions. The man nodded, starting the car smoothly. The engine purred, setting the vehicle into motion. You tried to relax against the expensive leather but it was impossible when San was eyeing you with such an intense stare. His blond hair was falling over his eyes, hiding the menace that he truly represented.

“Where’s my greeting kiss?” He asked, his voice dripping with tease. You felt your patience run thin.

“I am going to punch you” You said, feeling your hands trembling in rage. San studied you, before humming understanding that his reading wasn’t going to ease you.

“I was expecting you to come to the corporation, after my visit yesterday” He said, reaching for his blazer pocket, getting himself a smoke.

“Why would I ever do that? You can't take a hint?”

“You are the one who can take a hint,” San said as he put the butt of the cigarette against his lips, lighting it up. 

“I told you i was out, San” you said, your voice dropping to a neutral timber as you looked over at the window. You were about to exit Itaewon, getting into the highway.

“You are needed. Your father left a testimony behind, as you are aware. Our sponsors won’t accept to do business unless you are the one signing the contracts”

You looked at San with the most obvious face you could master. All this scene for this? You laughed, rubbing your face in your hands as he blew the smoke inside the car. His eyes gently looked at you. He pitied you. You felt your stomach take a twist.

“I made it clear, I don't want the Corporation. Didn’t you take matters into your own hands? As far as I know, you own Zeeta”

San sighed, his hand rubbing his own temples as he took another hit of his expensive tobacco. “I do. Just not officially. Everything is still under your name”

“I will fucking sell it to you, San” You said, looking at him. You were becoming nauseous the more you spoke of this matter. 3 months you had run away from this and very damn time it seemed like this cursed corporation didn't want to let you go.

“You know that's not possible,” San said, sighing once again. His free hand went to your face, caressing your skin. The touch paralyzed you, his burning skin feeling like a perpetuated memory. He brushed a few pieces of your hair out of your face, mastering a sympathetic smile as you were struggling to keep your tears in your eyes from rolling. 

Fuck, the power this man had over you was a no joke. He was capable of making you feel like falling in pieces and then he would build you up again, just to watch you crumble underneath his fingers once more.

“Zeeta was made by your grandfather under a strict code. The Corporation, all the casinos, hotels and illegal trafficking will always belong to the Zeeta family and at this moment you are the one who owns it. With your father’s and brother’s death–” “Shut up” you said through gritted teeth, breathing loudly through your nose to recompose yourself. San gave you a few seconds before continuing. He was cruel, poking at open wounds, watching it bleeding for his own expenses. 

“I have power on it at the moment, but I can't make any decisive decisions without your consent. If I did so, we would lose our sponsors your grandfather built  and that would make us lose a bunch of money.” He murmured, his voice so low it felt like it came from inside your skull. You closed your eyes for a second as you felt his fingers brush against your cheek. “There’s only one way–”

“Kill me” you said, this time looking at San. Looking deeply into the numbness of his eyes, San’s smile faded. Those were words he didn't want to hear ever again. But you saw him master behind his feelings as he grinned. He pushed himself away from you, taking another hit of his cigarette.

“I could never. That would make me a traitor.”

“I will do it myself”

“Pointless. Zeeta would just pass the business to one of your cousins, the ones that your father chased away. That would be pissing on his grave and his memory, don’t you think love?”

You felt your anger boiling again. The audacity he had to speak of your father like this, after all the shit he had done made you want to murder him. Perhaps you should.

“The fuck you want me to do?” you asked in fury, desperation crawling into your voice “I won't come back, I can't come back!” You yelled, not caring that the driver was listening to the whole conversation. You felt your chest tighten with a well known anxiety that you had tried to deny for the past few months. San stayed quiet, his eyes analyzing you again.

“Marry me” He blurbed out and you looked at him offended. What the fuck was he trying to do? “I would allow you to be wherever you want, be whoever you want. You would be protected and not an outcast. I would have the Zeeta name and proceed with the business and you wouldn't have to worry about a thing”

You knew San too well. This wasn't an act of mercy, this wasn't him trying to help a friend, a lover. This was him setting a trap, playing with your vulnerabilities and fears to get you exactly where he wanted you. Marrying him wasn't a solution, it was a doomed ending.

“Fuck you san”

He sighed, grimacing as if he was hurt by your answer “Perhaps I should have kneeled during my proposal, I apologize”

“Get fucked!”

“Please, understand that I am trying my hardest to protect you. It's only a matter of time until our enemies find you and hang you. If they feel merciful. 

“Like I care” 

“If that happens the whole Corporation would be at war”

You knew that. You know he wasn’t wrong but you couldn't bring yourself to accept his demands. You hated him too much, despite your love for him, and you still couldn't forgive him for what he had done. 

Looking through the window, your eyes went to the big skyscrapers, reaching up through the starlight night sky. You missed your father terribly but you also hated him for putting all this on you. You had grown up in the corporation, trained to be second in hand with your brother. But then, you fell in love with San and one thing led to another, until San had destroyed your whole life. You felt the pain hitting your chest. It was hard to breathe. You couldn't remember that day without feeling like you were being swallowed whole. 

The pain was too much. 

The first sob left your lips before you felt San reached for you. He pulled you close to him and instead of comforting you with a hug, he connected his lips to yours. Unable to breathe, you close your eyes firmly, focusing on the kiss and allowing your heartbeat to adjust to the sudden aggression on your mouth. He held your face with his colossal hands, his lips skillfully moving against your. Once he broke the kiss, he connected your forehead, breathing deeply. Unconsciously you mimicked him, your breathing getting back to normal. His thumb rubbed gentle circles under your eyes, waiting for you to be calm.

“I need you to come back, y/n”

“I need time to think”

San groaned in discontentment, pulling his face away from yours before looking down at you. You felt your body getting more relaxed, the tears that threatened to escape drying on the corner of your eyes. 

“One week.” 

You nodded at his words. That was enough time to allow you to come up with a plan that would make you disappear from this damned country. Just enough for no one to find you and enough time to fix your shit and make sure no one would be in danger. You watched as San kept his eyes on your body this time, a stern look becoming more frustrated

“What’s wrong?”

You asked but instead of answering you, he opened the window of his side, the cold air making you shiver. Without any word, San leaned forward, ripping the jacket around your shoulders and throwing it out through the window.

“San!!” you yelled trying to reach for him but it was too late “The fuck you doing?!”

“You wearing that fucker clothing as if he owned you”

“For fuck sakes, I was just cold” 

San glared at you. “one week, y/n. Don't abuse the love I have for you”

You bit the inside of your cheek, the good mood long gone. As always, the rollercoaster of emotions with San’s obnoxious and double personality was complicated. He was as considered as he was cruel. 

“I already agreed to that week”

“Good. I will take care of that bastard too, to keep you from distractions” 

You glared at San this time, pulling at his shirt. You got him close to you, his eyes widen slightly before he composed himself, a grin plastered on his face. 

“Oh?”

“You ain't touching a shit” you threatened. You wouldn't allow Wooyoung to get caught midfire. Usually you wouldn't mind casualties, that's how your world worked anyway. But Wooyoung had been nothing but good and you couldn't allow him to get hurt because of you. San had already taken all the joys of your life and you would rather burn than allow it to happen again.

“Don't say it like that” San purred, closing the little space between your faces “seeing you angry and desperate makes me want to rip his throat”

Capturing your lips again, he kissed you with passion, the exchange getting him in a mood you had no intention to play on tonight. You are forced to pull away, the intoxicating feeling of his lips on yours making you dizzy.

You hissed. “I am serious San, if anything happens to him, I will make sure you regret your whole existence” 

San hummed, stealing a fury kiss from you. You bit his bottom lip in warning and he groaned lowly against you. You felt your core pulse from the sound and you hated that the situation was making you this excited. again, he had you exactly where he wanted.

“Whether I hurt him or not will depend on your answer, White Tiger”

You looked into his half lidded eyes, a smirk painted on his face. The need of murdering him was excruciating and yet you found yourself leaning against his lips again, drinking away his low sounds that made you feel loved and wanted. You wanted to run away from your past, but as long as San, the Red Dragon was alive, these chains would never shatter.

[deltatraveler]

Okay, I got more questions that may or may not be too spoiler heavy(Sorry if it’s very long list):

1. Will clover and kanako get some sibling bonding in Deltatraveler yellow? Cuz Ceroba’s like clover’s mom

2. Will the integrity human make an appearance in Deltatraveler yellow?

3. Why do Susie and Noelle still listen to our commands even tho we killed a bunch of people? They even tried to stop us and Susie even said that she was done but why does she still listen to our violent commands? Do we have like some powerful control over them because we’ re the player? 4. How will Kris and Chara react to seeing each other? 5. Is UT chara the narrator? 6. Is Ralsei just gonna be a running gag or is he going to be more significant to the plot?

7. Will Link or Zelda fight us in obliteration? 8. What’s the deal with fell sans, I don’t get it? Do I need to watch the GG!underfell animations to understand? 9. Will Gaster be afraid of us because we’re homocidal and knows that we got a taste, want to wipe out the monster race, got no patience nor resolve? 10. Will UT berdly, Suzy, catti, jockington, catty, bratty, nice cream guy, burgerpants, Monster kid, and temmie make an appearance in the future? 11. Why did you remove gaster saying mommy, sorry after we name ourselves ceroba?

12. Will underswap flowey and temmies make an appearance in section 5? 13. I don’t mean to be rude but out of all the Zelda/M&L/3D games why link to the past/bowser’s inside story/toontown?

1 - idk 2 - Nope 3 - Because they care about Kris too much 4 - No comment 5 - No, I am. 6 - He might play a little bit of a larger role in the story, but only a little bit. 7 - No. 8 - I will leave this for you to figure out :) 9 - He thinks he's in control. 10 - You're asking too many questions. 11 - Team UTY didn't like how Ceroba was being portrayed in some fan content, and that easter egg was one of them, so I removed the easter egg personally. 12 - No comment 13 - Because I like them

now stop asking me multiple questions in a single ask. i will intentionally give low quality responses if you do this.

[something-tofightfor]

Detective Tim Rockford Headcanons

Listen, I don’t know how we got here either, but if I said I was surprised, it’d be a lie.

Don’t look at me. 

@the-blind-assassin-12​ @haylzcyon​ and @stealyourblorbos​ encouraged the HELL out of this, and I thank them endlessly. 

Almost 3k of headcanons about less than two minutes of a character under the cut. 

Born on February 29, 1984 - he’s a Leap Year baby, but doesn’t like talking about it because people always make a big deal about it and “It’s just another day. It’s not a big deal.”

His parents had him young - his mother was 25 when he was born and his father was only 27. 

He lost his dad when he was 15 to a car accident - a driver ran a red light and t-boned the car that Tim and his dad were in. The man died on the scene, and so did the other driver, but Tim’s only injuries were a huge bump on the side of his head, a cut on the bridge of his nose, and a broken wrist. 

Despite everything he’s seen and done in his law enforcement career, he’s still optimistic and tries to see the best in people without losing sight of the job at hand. No one has ever accused him of having his mind made up on a call or a case before he knows the facts, and he intends to keep it that way. 

He joined the Academy at 22, and became a Detective (prefers to be referred to as a Criminal Investigator, though) at the age of 33. Specializes in homicides - but can and will take on whatever case is assigned to him.

He’s always worked in California, but started his career in San Francisco and transferred home to Sacramento few years later to be closer to his mom when she got older. 

He only has two unsolved cases since his promotion; one of them, the suspect died before he could crack the case and officially charge her. The other, the man avoided charges on a technicality: the search warrant for the vehicle was deemed to have insufficient correct information and all of the evidence was thrown out. (The incorrect information was not Tim’s fault - it was the issuing judge’s, and Tim is still pissed even years later.)

Tim is also very observant - and it doesn’t stop at on the job situations. 

He’s very intuitive and compassionate, and always has been. He’s generous with his time and himself (early/mid 20’s Tim helped countless people move into and out of their houses and apartments - he goes out of his way for friends whenever possible.)

He’s very quick to pick up on what people are thinking and feeling, and can analyze his surroundings very quickly and efficiently. He doesn’t have a photographic memory, and he’d never call it a 6th sense, but sometimes it just seems like he knows things and can recall details that most people wouldn’t be able to remember. 

Tim’s a daydreamer. Yes, he stays busy with work, but he has no qualms about taking time off to recharge and relax. It’s one thing that his father instilled in him when he was really young - he remembers that even though his dad was busy and worked a lot to support the family, they always made time for trips, both lengthy and one-day. 

Some of his best memories of his dad are the summer afternoons they spent at Angels games, and he makes it a point to go to a few every season - sometimes alone, sometimes with dates and sometimes with friends. 

He can be moody, and people are really quick to assume that it’s just because of what he does for a living, but Tim’s actually pretty good at keeping work/home separate - he’s especially moody when people waste his time.

When he makes a decision, he makes a decision. He thinks and then acts - there’s no delay, unless there’s a good reason for it. This applies to both his job and his personal life - he doesn’t have time for bullshit, and is direct, especially when he feels strongly about something - but it’s rare that he jumps the gun.

He has a temper, but it’s really rare that it breaks through, because he’s had practice keeping calm when it counts. 

He isn’t physically violent, and he doesn’t even yell much … but you can always tell when he’s pissed. The lines between his brows deepen, and he gets very, very quiet - almost to the point that it’s scary. 

But he doesn’t erupt often. He uses his anger as a focal point and internalizes as much as he can. So when he does break? When he snaps at people or raises his voice or gets mad? You know it’s serious - and so do the people on the receiving end of whatever scathing things he has to say. 

He makes decent money, and doesn’t really spend it frivolously. 

Owns a condo in Willow Creek, northwest of Sacramento. 

Drives a modest SUV. 

Not picky when it comes to food, but prefers red meat and doesn’t drink wine unless it’s necessary. Enjoys whiskey but prefers clear alcohol. Absolutely lives on takeout when he’s working cases, but when he’s home, he likes to cook for himself (and anyone he has over).

He doesn’t watch much TV, but he does like cooking shows - they’re always on, and when he can’t sleep/is up at night working on cases, he puts them on in the background and has actually learned a lot. (Secretly, he wants to be on the Home Cooks version of Chopped and thinks he could probably win.)

Has a sweet tooth - cookies and cream ice cream and key lime pie (hold the toasted coconut) are his favorites. 

Thinks most new music is ridiculous, all sounds the same, and couldn’t tell you a pop station callsign if you paid him. (Unless he’s within eyesight of a billboard, that is.) Likes late 80’s and early 90’s rock, and tolerates some of the glam metal from the late 70’s and 80’s, because it’s what his parents listened to. 

His guilty pleasure band is Coldplay - and their first couple albums are what he uses as “driving between locations while on cases/at work” music to clear his head. 

Tim sees a chiropractor once a week for chronic back pain - all those long hours sitting at his desk or staring at intel and driving between locations has done a number on him. He had to go as a teenager after the accident, too - so as an adult, he already knew how much it could help. 

Has ONE tattoo - a bullseye on his hand, which is in the same place his father last touched him. 

The man grabbed his hand after the accident while they were waiting for the ambulance and didn’t let go, even after he was already gone. (This is the same hand that had the broken wrist, but Tim didn’t even realize until much later that he was in pain.) Every time Tim touches it - on purpose or on accident while he’s deep in thought, it’s like his dad’s still there with him. 

And when it comes to the way he is with women? Well… there’s a lot more to him than what you see on the surface. 

He is patient. No, he doesn’t like wasting time - but there’s a difference between wasting time and taking time to do something right - and you both know it. 

He likes someone else taking charge, and won’t actively try and persuade you to do anything you don’t want to. But since he can read people so well, he’s got a good idea of what you want and need before you do. He has no problem suggesting things just to see if you’ll be into them like he thinks (and sometimes hopes) you are. 

He is fiercely protective - but not in an overbearing way. There’s no question about how he feels about someone, because he speaks up. He doesn’t like it when someone has to worry about how they’re treated by other people, or how a situation that they might not be comfortable in / familiar with will play out. 

He is a HUGE proponent of physical touch - but that doesn’t mean he’s going to hold your hand all the time. He likes being close enough to touch you in some way, an arm around your shoulders, a hand on your back, his arm pressed to yours, standing behind you so that his chest is against your back. 

It’s about the closeness for him, and if you’re not comfortable with that, it probably wouldn’t work out for the two of you. He doesn’t really get to get close to people at work - it’s a very solo job for the most part, so when he’s not at work, he craves real, honest and lingering human contact. 

But, with that being said, he likes to stay in a lot when he’s with you. He prefers smaller crowds and more intimate places than going to something like an outdoor festival/event/busy place all the time. He does like going to these places every now and then, but they have to be balanced out by more quiet, alone time. 

One exception to this rule, though - he loves movie theaters. Loves sitting in the dark with the giant screen and the greasy popcorn and sticky candy. Loves a good comedy. Hates superhero movies. Action/adventure is also a top genre for him - and he’s seen a TON of sci-fi movies. 

Some of his favorites? The Goonies. Jurassic Park. He can quote Talladega Nights. He snuck into a movie theater to see Zoolander when he was 17 and so it holds a special place in his heart. Starship Troopers is arguably not a great movie, but he loves it. “It’s about what the movie is trying to say,” he explains - every single time someone asks. 

Anyway. Back to Tim as a significant (or not so significant) other: 

The job doesn’t leave him the time that he’d like to pursue a “normal” relationship - it’s a lot of long hours and late nights, which means that anyone he’s seeing has to understand this and be alright with it. 

He tries to make time for the person he’s seeing, but sometimes, getting called into work can’t be helped. (He once had to get up in the middle of an anniversary dinner because he got a call about a suspect lead that had panned out - and needless to say, there wasn’t a makeup dinner on that one.) 

With Tim, you have to expect him to show up at weird times for weird amounts of time - 6:30 PM on a Thursday? That’s the only time he’s got free to grab some ice cream before he has to go to work. 1:45 in the afternoon on a Sunday? Late lunch/early dinner before you have to go into work because he hasn’t seen you since Wednesday. The mattress dipping at 4:30 in the morning on a Wednesday when he finally comes home from a crime scene or tears himself away from his desk after a 16 hour work day? 

At least you’ve got his arms around you for a couple hours before you have to wake up. 

Short term attachments are simpler for him because there are fewer expectations, but he’s always mindful of the position he holds and won’t ever use what he does for a living as a power play. In fact, he doesn’t like to tell people until he knows them pretty well what exactly he does, because then the conversation usually turns to things he’d rather not talk about off the clock. 

One night stands are a great way for him to blow off steam - and he has done this frequently. But he also has a friend from college that lives in his hometown that’s not looking for a relationship - so they keep each other company more than occasionally. It’s an easy arrangement for them. She knows what he does and what he needs, and he’s more than happy to please her. 

But they both understand that when either of them is seeing / does find someone, that it’s over - and that’s fine by them. 

He sleeps naked - even when it’s cold out. The most he’ll wear is a pair of boxers or boxer briefs when it gets a little chilly - or when he’s getting to know someone and has them stay over the first couple times. 

He’s intense - even when he’s not trying to be. His personality might seem a little intimidating because he’s very open and outspoken, but he really just wants to put you at ease. It’s hard, though, when you lock eyes with him, or he gives you the barest hint of a smile and then tilts his head to the side and the smile changes into a smirk and then he’s asking you questions about yourself and you’re telling him everything because you can’t look away from the deep brown eyes that are carving you wide open.

It doesn’t take you long to understand why he’s able to solve so many cases  as quickly as he can; it’s literally next to impossible to keep things from him. 

He is a GIVER in bed - in every way. 

And you know he’s had a bad day when he doesn’t even give you time to take your clothes or shoes off and he’s already got his hands and mouth all over you after one of you has walked in the door. The man can do things to you through your jeans that you didn’t even think were possible before. 

He gets attached pretty quickly despite his initial hesitation with forming lasting relationships. It sounds contradictory, but if there’s even a moment of wavering, where he lets himself think “what if”, it’s hard to stop it from growing into more in his mind. That doesn’t mean that he’ll immediately change his behavior with you, or assume anything - it just means that he starts looking at things from a different perspective, just in case. 

But he won’t say anything until he’s sure. He doesn’t like failure, or feeling like he’s floundering, so he’s hesitant to act impulsively. 

The man is the best kisser you’ve ever encountered in your life. He’s not sloppy, he’s precise. He’s just as good with his mouth as he is with his hands, and after the first time you really kiss him, you’re pretty sure no one else will ever come close to making you feel the way he did again. (But you know you can’t tell him that because then he’d just get that shit-eating grin on his face and that dimple would appear in his cheek and it wouldn’t matter because you’re already a goner, so…)

At first you thought the unruly hair, mustache and patchy beard were a little bit of a cliche - frazzled, overworked cop, meant to give the air that he was so dedicated to his work that his personal appearance took a backseat to getting the job done, and you teased him about it.

But then, the first time you saw him with smooth cheeks and his hair freshly washed and styled, you realized that that was what didn’t look right. It wasn’t him. It was easy enough to run your fingers through the curls and pull them back into the disarray that both of you liked more, but it took a couple days for that heart-shaped patch - and the streaks of silver on his cheeks - to come back… and it was a long couple days. 

He likes it when you grab whatever tie he’s wearing and use it to pull him closer. He likes it even more when you loosen it a little before you do so. 

Tim is a talker. He doesn’t get loud, but he’s constantly full of praise and encouragement for you, and he has no shame about telling you what he wants - and is going - to do to you.

A while after the two of you started seeing each other, you got drunk one night on cheap beer and blurted something out to him that you’d had a dream about: him keeping the tank top undershirt he was so fond of and shoulder holsters (minus weapons) on while he fucked you. 

You forgot about it for a while, and then a couple weeks later, he made it happen. (And he liked it just as much as you did because the straps gave you something new to hold on to. 

He is very, very emotional - but is also very, very good at hiding it. He does have tells, though:

 The way he clenches his jaw. 

Pressing a thumb to or circling over his tattoo. 

The tic of the muscles in one cheek as he frowns. 

The subtle jiggling of his right hand as it hangs by his side. 

The degree to which he juts his hip when he stands with one hand on it. 

Chewing on his lower lip when he’s deep in thought and not paying attention to anything else. 

They’re all things you learn very quickly the more time you spend with him, and when Tim realizes that you’ve picked up on them - when you put your hand on his knee or shoulder if you see him fidgeting, or you lean in to kiss his cheek when you see it twitching, or you brush your lips over the shell of his ear and tell him that you wish it was your lip he was biting - he knows he’s made a good decision with you. 

Like these? Want more? 

Detective Tim Rockford will return in Black Days - coming soon.

[skeleton-mischief]

Saint Serrif

Horrortale Sans, the one AU where everyone thought he was a cannibal(?) despite being a literal monster?? Fun fact: he has not once eaten human flesh! Anyways, here are my headcanons! Enjoy :-)

- Official height is 5'11

- He/Him

- Nihilist

- Taller and thinner bone from unstable magic

- He smiles a lot when he's in a dangerous situation, but otherwise he usually can be seen without one when he dislikes someone or finds them not worth his time listening to

- Has fast reflexes in dangerous situations since he had to be efficient underground. Otherwise, he comes off as slow to others because he takes awhile to actively choose to do something

- He carries guilt from what he did to Lunar, even if he thought that without it his brother would dust. Which, at the time, he would've

- Dedicated, protective, untrusting, observant, responsible, honest, caring, humble, reserved, pessimistic, hardworking, over thinker, cynical, stubborn, aggressive, and blunt

- The most patient Sans out of all the others, but only when he wants to get what he wants. He's only impatient with others who he dislikes

- Good friends with Powder and Red

- Selectively mute, he's more obligated to speak when he chooses to. There are moments where he just can't, however. Most of the time though, action is his language

- Loves any sort of food, a literal dumpster of food. Hell compliment the person's cooking and eat it even if it's utterly shit

- Does not remember Gaster due to all the events that occurred in his timeline. Gaster on the other hand watches in misery and grief, spiteful towards humans

- Will resort to violence easily, he doesn't hesitate to use it even if it's not fully needed

- He curses frequently, has a sailors tongue

- If he is not actively being spiteful, he follows directions without complaint. He may need guidance however, since he overthinks it

- Can be severely petty to the point he's doing it to provoke the other

- He is very deprived of touch, but he's too hesitant to initiate it since he carries a lot of dust and blood on his hands. He gets all stiff and awkward if someone touches him, and it'll take time for him to get comfortable

- Yellowed bone with an ash tint due to his health

- He is the best to rant to since he's quiet and patient, but there are times that he's just not listening at all. He only pays attention if he cares, because otherwise he'll pick his teeth and passively aggressively tell you that yes, he's listening, because he just cares oh so much about it

- He's willing to do anything for those he cares about over his own needs, anything.

- He is a very quiet crier, kinda disassociated as he stares at nothing. Catatonic, in a way

- He would wag his finger cartoonishly when scolding someone or use his finger to beckon someone instead of waving them over

- He clicks his sharp fingers against hard surfaces when impatient, even if he doesn't verbally tell someone that he is

- He would call his lover lamb or sugarplum

- He summons a thigh bone as a weapon, but he carries a cleaver that he's attached to and will use it when he's low on magic. After all, magic is something he uses sparingly

- He absolutely hates Undyne and Alphys. He calls Undyne "Unbitch" and he isn't afraid to insult her

- He lobotomized Alphys after she betrayed him

- Has a rough sense of humor

- He feeds the people in Snowdin, even going so far as to teleport to the castle to steal food

- He starved underground for about seven years in order to feed the others

- He has awful posture, his neck bent forward and constantly slouched

- His "prank" in the forest was a spinning spike instead of a whoopie cushion

- Is quick to be snappish and rude to those he dislikes, he will only behave if asked by someone he cares about

- He only is nicer to others when above the surface and gains trust in others

- He is quiet when upset, going to Lunar and quietly clinging onto him

- Physically the strongest and most violent Sans, he isn't afraid to use his own hands and its clear that he doesn't mind playing dirty

- He never ate human flesh when underground, but he has fed monsters in Snowdin humans or even animals in order to provide. Because of this, monsters in Snowdin not only were physically changed, but their magic changed as well. It is unknown how the same has happened for Saint, but it's suspected that it's because of his LV that he changed

- Magic smells of veviter and oak, magic tastes of vanilla

- Has memory issues so he owns journals and sticky notes when above the surface. Without it, he struggles to remember even simple facts. He doesn't struggle remembering Lunar, however, since his brother was the only constant in his life

- No one is allowed to touch his skull, as it's his most vulnerable spot

- His other eye socket is pretty much empty, thus making a blind spot for him and means that he doesn't like sudden movement there

- He will not tolerate people wasting food so don't even think about doing that in front of him

- He scratches at his skull as a comfort or a habit when overthinking. But because he's done it for so long, it slightly chips like paint and small amounts of dust flake off

- Good at sewing, he picked up the skill underground after his brother's outfit became tarnished. Because supplies are limited, however, he doesn't bother fixing the ripped up shirt he wears. You can see small sewings on his jacket, however

- Can hardly spell for shit, he has awful handwriting since he had to focus seven years worth of his time through survival

- He ends up wearing a lot of comfortable and soft clothes when above ground, he refuses to wear suits unless hes forced into it

- He treasures gifts dearly, he never lets anything happen to them

- He carries snacks around when above ground since he never wants anyone to feel hungry. He also sneaks food and stocks up on it, he's wonderful at preserving things and splitting it up for rations despite his hunger

- Likes the rain but refuses to go outside without his hood, a hat, or umbrella since the hole in his skull is sensitive to the sensation

- Certain things make his skull hurt while others can rest inside such as flowers. Rain or liquids are usually a no go though because it swishes around

- He doesn't like thunderstorms because it's loud, since his magic is unstable and acts as damaged nerves

- He doesn't like the sensation of mud, the texture is too similar to blood

- He hates liars and those that are secretive. Because of this, he's nosy and good at finding dirt or lies someone has. He's able to determine where someone is, where they went, and most of the time why. But, no one is able to do the same thing with him. He's the best at covering his tracks, and even more so at not sharing information about himself

-He smokes occasionally, drinking even less so unless no one is around. He has to be in a bad mood, or else he won't drink

- He's pretty territorial, protective of who he deems as his close loved ones. So no one is allowed to mess with his brother or some of the other skeletons in the household. He'd kill for them

Closing Notes: he is so silly goofy goober omg😍🤭😋. But seriously I like the combination of putting different versions of him into my own hc's since the bear version and the rat version both have their perks. I plan to explore more of his dynamic with his brother and stuff later on! If you have questions do not be afraid to ask and thank you for reading :-))

[btr-rewatch]

Big Time Rush Season 1, Episode 10: “Big Time Party”

Highlights: An epic Palm Woods party thrown by the Hollywood Super Party Kings of Hollywood! Also, a single five-second scene proves enough to nearly break me.

As the guys enter Rocque Records, their party-detecting senses start tingling. They find out that there's going to be a big party to celebrate their first album! Except they're not invited!

Booooo! 👎👎👎👎

Gustavo doesn't want the dogs messing up his fancy shindig, but Kendall declares that they are STAYING. Gustavo, however, has cleverly planned for this exact scenario. He tells them they can stay, but they can't go into his Super Party Fun Box.

The boys immediately enter the Fun Box.

Cannot contain my amusement at this whole scenario. The fact that Gustavo had this at the ready. The muffled music playing from the inside of the box. The fact that the group's singular shared brain cell evidently did not go to any of them that morning.

Brilliant show, I tell you. I think it may even be funnier now than it was when I was younger.

Later on, Mrs. Knight tells the boys that she and Katie are taking a day trip to San Diego. Kendall thinks it's the perfect opportunity for them to throw a party and, being the responsible young man that he is, goes to ask his mother if it's okay. Mrs. Knight reminds them that it's against Palm Woods rules to throw parties, and they're one strike away from being kicked out.

As soon as Mama Knight and Katie walk out the door, the guys immediately commence scheming to throw a "social gathering." They agree to keep it small (three people each), and Kendall doles out the responsibilities to his buds. This scene then happens, and listen. LISTEN. I totally forgot about it, but as soon as Kendall started delivering the line, it all came back to me. This was by far one of my favorite lines of the entire show, and I cannot properly convey how much it made me laugh when I used to catch the episode on TV. It is hysterical. The absurd humor in this show is top of the line.

No, you don't understand. This is like. The funniest gag on the planet to me. Kendall has an actual (unidentifiable) thing that he gives to Jo. She's so polite and appreciative about it even though she clearly has NO CLUE what it is. It's just—it's just a thing. He just gives it to her and does that goofy smile and point thing and moves onto chit-chat about the party. No additional context.

WHY did he give that to her?? What is the wacky in-universe explanation? He's so pleased with himself! Jo doesn't know what it is!!! I've spent the last ten minutes laughing over this scene. If anyone ever wants to know what my sense of humor consists of, I'll show them this one specific exchange.

Okay, I must summon my strength to pull myself together.

Kendall invites Jo to the not-party and asks if she'd like to be his "guest, friend, person thing." He is so normal.

Meanwhile, James and Carlos are also being normal about their party-planning responsibilities.

As the party gets into full swing, Camille wastes no time in coming on very strong to Logan, who is so overwhelmed by the attention that he literally crawls away from her and goes running to Kendall for help.

Kendall suggests that Logan simply be truthful and tell Camille he's not interested. Jo suggests Logan relax a bit and give things a chance with Camille. In a bizarre shift from the norm, Logan takes Jo's advice and tells Kendall he's wrong. *gasp*

We briefly go to Rocque Records then, where Gustavo is busy throwing the lamest party of the century. He tells Kelly they've got to liven it up.

Back in 2J, Kendall casually asks Jo if she likes hockey. She replies that she hates it, and Kendall proceeds to choke on his drink and go into a violent coughing fit. Jo doesn't like hockey?? Earth-shattering news.

Meanwhile, Logan is dealing with his own crisis when Mercedes Griffin suddenly walks in. As you may remember from the previous episode, she wanted Logan as her new boyfriend but never got the chance to date him because Kendall gave her a real stern talking to. Well, she wants to now pick up where they left off. And just like that, Logan is thrown into the classic sitcom "I've got two dates for the party!" plotline.

Moments later, the apartment is overrun by a huge crowd of people on account of Carlos is a bonehead who misread "all contacts" as a name.

Yes, it is, boys. Yes, it is. Also, I have to wonder how this even managed to happen in the first place. Aside from the fact that I don't even think it's possible to send a message to every contact at once (I looked it up, and it said you'd have to use third-party apps, and like. This is 2010, and Carlos has a flip phone.) But even if he managed to do it, I'm sure he's got family in his contacts! His parents, aunts, uncles, cousins, siblings?? They would have gotten messages inviting them to this. Did none of them try to reach him and ask why he sent a mysterious party social-gathering invitation to them?

Listen, I realize I'm thinking too much into this, but still. A lot of things would have had to have lined up and gone wrong in order for this to happen.

Good job, Carlos.

Knowing Bitters will be on the hunt for their party, Kendall recruits Jo to help intercept him while James and Carlos shut the party down. The Hollywood Super Party Kings of Hollywood decide that moving the party down to the pool area is good enough.

Seeing that his friends are going to be of no help whatsoever, Kendall decides that if Bitters wants to bust a party, they're going to give him a party to bust. After running around the building with a boombox, they manage to lure Bitters into the Super Party Fun Box. Wooo! The threat has been eliminated! Kendall and Jo celebrate with a high-five.

They are so cute.

We go back to the pool then to tie up some remaining loose ends. Camille (who is angry after discovering Logan's double-date situation) says she won't talk to him for a week, but she will dance with him. Mercedes quickly moves on and picks Guitar Dude as her new boyfriend. Gustavo and Kelly have managed to save their boring party by bringing everyone over to the Palm Woods, and Carlos and James sit on their thrones and look upon their party kingdom with satisfaction.

Happy ending for all (except for Bitters, who was likely stuck in that box for the remainder of the night)

Good episode. Love seeing those guys get put into situations and then spend the next 20 minutes desperately trying to scramble their way out. I'm still thinking of the "I kinda got a thing for her" scene, btw. Living rent free in my head.

[platoapproved]

Top five favorite scenes from interview with the vampire!

Choosing just five is going to be AGONY. I may do a few lil extra ones, some are just moments and some full scenes...

2x05 The San Francisco fight. It's just so completely out of control and so absolutely rancid. Literally watched the whole thing with my hands over my mouth like I could not BELIEVE.

2x02 The first flash of misplaced Armand memory Daniel has, while Louis is mocking him about Alice. I had to pause the episode and get up and walk around a little. The filmmaking is just so good. It's so jarring the way they slip it in there and leave it as this discordant little mystery.

2x04 Armand's backstory monologue. It's like. So hard to watch and agonizing, but the writing is so careful and spare, and the acting is haunting. Does the thing I always wish I was better at with writing where it suggests so much with a few deliberate very evocative choices. The vacillating between first and third person pronouns, the shifting between Armand's face and the painting, the music. Just a great bit of filmmaking.

2x08 "For the nights in front of me, where I might learn to live honestly" still can't watch or think too hard about this scene without tearing up a little bit. Louis means so much to me. 😭

2x04 The slow zoom in on Armand as Louis is talking about hallucinating Lestat. It's just such a fantastic use of like... there is no dialogue here to communicate what is happening. It's all in the performance and the focus of the camera on Armand, getting closer and closer, looking at Louis as he's talking, so the focus isn't on his words but on the pain that is creeping out past Armand's mask. Brilliant stuff.

1x01 The church scene, specifically Lestat convincing Louis to accept the Dark Gift. This is like.... It. If I had to show someone just one scene to explain to them what IWTV is, it would be that one.

2x04 The jarring hard cut ending of Daniel listening to the mp3 of the argument. It's SO abrupt and violent and wonderful. What a fucking cliffhanger.

Okay, so I did a top 7, I'm restraining myself from any more although there are so many...