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#tw: gun mention
stuhde · 1 year
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i had shared what is happening in sudan on a long facebook post last night, but it virtually received almost little to no engagement or shares from the nearly 600 “friends” i have on the site.
this morning, my great-aunt was shot by the soldiers fighting for power, and God forbid, i lose more of my family members before eid this friday.
please read below to understand what is happening and how you can help my country. i hope the tumblr community can show more kindness than the lack of support and advocacy i’ve seen elsewhere.
يا رب اجعل هذا البلد آمناً 🇸🇩
the lack of awareness and advocacy from the African, Arab, and Muslim diaspora and the human rights community has been painful.
while Western media has done little to no coverage of the ongoing conflict in the capital city of my motherland, Sudan, it appears that the rest of the world also partakes in normalizing crimes and violence against SWANA people.
violence and war hurting the SWANA region are NOT ordinary occurrences — no one, regardless of race, creed, ethnicity, religion, and gender, should experience the unprecedented amount of violence that harms my two living grandmothers, aunts and uncles, and baby cousins who live in Khartoum.
your decision to ignore reading or educating and discussing with others about what is likely to be a civil war is complicity in viewing SWANA people as individuals who regularly experience conflict and are undeserving of help.
the silence is damaging, and it is up to us as privileged members of the diaspora (or individuals living in the Western world committed to human rights) to support the people of my country and their dream for a stable, democratically elected government.
what is happening in Sudan is a fight that started on April 15 between two competing forces for power — the Sudanese Army and the Rapid Support Forces (RSF) — neither groups are representative of the needs of our people. The Sudan Army is loyal to the dictator, Omar Al-Bashir, and the RSF is responsible for the genocide in Darfur.
with both power struggles backed by different Arab and Gulf nations, the two parties have been fighting for power for the last few years. While they worked together to try and end the people’s revolution, they lost. however, they are now in a constant power play of who will get to rule the nation.
this all means that war is NOT a reflection of my country — violence does not represent the SWANA people. Sudan is a nation of beautiful culture, strong women, intellectual and influential Islamic scholars, poets, and youth at the front lines of the revolution. we are a people committed to a region of peace for ourselves and the rest of the Ummah.
my family and the rest of Sudan’s innocent civilians are at the most risk, with many currently without drinking water, food to eat, electricity, and complete blockage to any mosques during the final nights of Ramadan, our holiest month of the year.
i ask that you please keep Sudan and our people in your prayers — donate to the Sudan Red Crescent or a mutual aid GoFund Me, email your representatives if you live in a country that can put pressure on either competing force of power, discuss this with your family and friends, and please do not forget to think about SWANA people — our brothers and sisters in Syria, Yemen, Lebanon, and many others need our love and support.
الردة_مستحيلة ✊🏾
#KeepEyesOnSudan
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dcxdpdabbles · 6 months
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de-aged Danny is one of my babies,
Shit hits the fan with the giw and Danny is super injured and Clockwork has to mess with some things so Danny doesn’t return to his core being vulnerable and sends him millions of miles away to Gotham and in the process Danny becomes 6/10 years old and is weeks healed due to being smaller and costing less ectoplasm but is still achy, Danny is steered to Jason’s apartment where he just got off his shift and then his is the twist! Jason is mute due to an accident with the joker and Batman (batman unintentionally causing his muteness) and out of reflex of a child on his counter hand first into a box of Cheerios let’s put a exasperated noise of flames and a lighter and Danny responds with his own spark of electricity and Jason is shocked (hehe) that Danny can understand and even communicate can he just lets out everything he’s been doing since “holy shit I can talk to someone normally” and then he realizes this child has the same scar as him and is pissed but Danny calms him down and calms the pits and he’s like “okay you’re mine now shit- I’m like Bruce- no. I’ll think about this later-“ Danny is super cute and Jason is having a field day with parent hood and Jason gives Danny a comm for when he goes out but he’s only allowed to speak in ghost speak and the rest are confused when Jason sprints away and they follow to see Danny in Jason’s arms being lulled to sleep with a man on the ground knocked out or dead who knows not Jason because it was shoot & punch and ask questions later and then Danny says sleepily “Oh your daddy’s brothers, hi” like it’s normal to meet family in this situation and Jason puts him to bed before signing “Say anything to Bruce and you will never be called uncle or attend his birthday in your life.”
Bruce only finds out when Jason some how ends up super injured and can’t sign and Danny translates (no editing just straight he said fucking hell) and introduces himself as Danny Todd, Bruce privately cried a little
The Waynes knew that Jason had become far more distant since his accident. Bruce blamed himself, but in the end, it was Joker all over again.
The family had been on other missions when a distress call from Bruce came in. They all raced to give aid- if it was Bruce calling, then you know it was a huge deal- only to find their father figure pressing his hands desperately to the neck of a bleeding Jason.
The Joker had sliced his neck in one of his sick games.
They were able to get him to medical aid and save his life, but the damage to his vocal cords had been too severe. Jason would never be able to speak again.
Since then, Jason has kept his distance. The whole family was fluent in sign language- one of the first of many languages Bruce had them learn for their Bat training- but it only helped them if Jason wanted to sign around them.
It felt like the second oldest was actively trying to avoid the acknowledgment of his injury. Little by little, Jason began to drift away from the family. He no longer arrived early for family dinners to help Alfred cook, he did not say for games or movies afterward, he found excuses to not hang out with the family members, and even after patrol, he left as soon as he finished.
Even texts were becoming less and less frequent. The Wayne children attempt to surprise visit him just so they can make sure he isn't alone until Jason starts jumping between safe houses.
Jason is isolating himself, and the Waynes are alarmed by the way he is retreating into himself. This continued for months, and nothing they did worked to help him.
Despite the desperate attempts to connect to him, Jason was too far gone to be reached. He did not die, but they lost him all the same.
Then, one day, out of the blue, Jason's distance changed. Yes, he was still not coming around the family much, but the sadness on his shoulders loosened.
His demeanor was still tired, but not as if his soul was exhausted. He still ran off after patrol, but instead of a shameful shuffle, his stride was more excited.
No one knew why, but Wyanes breathed a sigh of relief at the change.
They also had some theories.
"He has a lover!" Dick exclaims after watching Jason run off the second Bruce dismisses them. He had stopped to clean himself up a little before riding out as Jason, the civilian. "He's going to go get ready for a hot date."
"He found a new book series." Duke offered as Jason seemed to be writing in a little notebook. He was thoughtful and dazed as he wrote like whatever notes he took were something he would revisit again. "He is writing fanfiction again."
"His crime empire is being threatened, so he is slowly picking off traitors," Tim proposed after seeing Jason upgrade his security to his home and safe houses. He even added a new line to the cons so that he could listen to his home like a Bat version of a baby monitor. "Doing it quick and quietly to not let them escape."
"He is going back to school!" Steph announced happily when she saw him at the store buying school supplies. "He can finally get that diploma he has always wanted!"
"He has found a new passion for a hobby," Damian countered after seeing Jason look over his old art easel. Jason had asked Damian what he recommended for a beginner. "It's allowing him to have an outlet in a creative, healthy manner."
"He has fallen for a book character again and can't tell the difference between reality and Fiction." Bruce fretted after seeing Jason chuckle to himself at post-it notes that had little hearts in his lunch box. They were signed by Jason's favorite characters in a writing that was reasonably similar to Jason's.
Cass only smiled knowingly, but she always seemed to know more of what was happening than the rest, no matter the situation.
The only other person who knew more than her was Alfred, but that man would never share secrets with anyone for any reason.
Jason seemed unaware of their theories or concerns (Bruce) since he was always busy doing whatever he was doing. It got to the point they decided to follow him about, only becoming more confused when Jason visited places like pre-schools and kid-friendly parks around the city.
It didn't help that Jason caught on to the fact he was being followed, leading the Bats all over the city to random locations and had them fumbling about what was a natural destination and what was retaliation for the trailing.
Then, one night, while the Bats were meeting up on a rooftop for some briefing and a breather, the new con line sprung to life, scaring everyone connected to it out of their skins.
"There is a strange man in the house!" A voice screeched. A young voice, one that didn't even sound like it belonged to someone who had reached their double digits.
At once, Jason jumped from his slouched-over position near the building's roof door and flung himself over the edge. His grabbing hook hissed as the large man threw himself across the rooftops frantically.
Stunned, the Bats watched him go, unsure of what was happening, until the young voice spoke again, a soft whisper. "He is in the hall- he has a knife."
A strange crackle of fire and electricity was heard over the con, and it took them all a moment to realize that it had come from Jason. The child- a boy based on the voice- responded with a slight tremble. "I'm hiding in my closet. I'm scared."
The words of a distressed child kickstart their brains, and everyone snaps to attention.
"Oracle, where is the signal originating from?" Bruce snaps, throwing himself over the edge to follow Jason. The rest of the family is right behind him.
"Jason's safe house in Uptown Gotham," Babs responds instantly with the accompanying clicking of her keyboard. She sucks a breath through her teeth in a pained hiss. "B, the address for Jason's safe house... it's connected to Upper Smiles Preschool for Danny Todd. Jason is marked as his father."
There is ice in everyone's veins when she says that as Danny- Jason's son- lets out a choked sob, then a scream that horrifies everyone as they try to run faster. "He found me! Help! Help! Daddy! Help!"
A boom goes off across the communicator, and they know Jason is responsible for the nose, but there is no explosion. Not that it matters.
They, too, understand what Jason meant by the strange noise he made- it's a protective rage that someone would dare to even think of harming one of their own.
Every Wayne pushes themselves past their limits, unwilling to let themselves be too late.
"Hold on, sweetheart, help is on the way. Hit him with anything around you until it gets there." Babs tells him, her voice cracking as Danny cries, and a man yelling can be heard.
"You little shit!" An unknown roars, and everyone hates him instantly. "I'll teach you some fucking manners!"
"Let me go! Let me go!"
They are ten minutes out even when they drop into the batmobile and company bikes. Jason is only eight. But every second feels like a lifetime as they listen to what Danny is going through.
There are sounds of struggles, of a tiny voice screaming and crying, then- gunshots.
Two loud and clear gunshots. Then silence, the kind that makes even a grave loud.
Bruce's grip on the steering wheel tightens to the point of pain, and everyone is in no better state. The silence over the con is just as devastating as Jason's mournful crackle, like a dying fire.
No. No gods, no, please don't let this mean Danny is-
"Not to worry, dear child, I am here." Alfred's warm, soothing voice is heard, and everyone almost collapses in relief. Danny's cries are muffled like his face is pressed against something as Alfred coos. "It's alright. It's alright, you're safe now. Shh"
Jason makes a sound similar to thunder.
"Yes, Master Jason, I was in the neighborhood. I wanted to bring my great-grandson a little present and saw this healthen mucking about where he does not belong. I shall be moving Danny to the manor."
It's a command that does not allow any arguing, but no one dares to say anything as they collectively change direction to the manor. Patrol for the night has been canceled.
They had a new little addition to the family that needed them more than ever. Now that they knew about him, they would never allow Jason to keep Danny away from them.
Later in the night, after hugs, kisses, and greetings, Danny is painting alongside Damian. He standing on a small stool to reach the easel, wearing an apron with the Batman symbol, and is smiling like there are no troubles in the world.
Everyone's heart melts when he asks them if they can sit still for him to paint a family portrait. He isn't Jason's by blood, but that has hardly mattered to a family such as the Waynes.
All they need to know is that Danny was found wandering around Jason's old safe house, speaking in the strange sounds that Jason could make, and was the cause for the second oldest to regain his joy of life.
All that mattered was that tiny, little six-year-old Danny Todd was one of theirs, and they would love him with all their hearts.
Master Post Link
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sentientsky · 3 months
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“Trauma Guide to Gunshot Wounds,” Yves Olade
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heartfullofleeches · 8 months
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[tw: gun violence]
Silas [immortal yan] is hands down the perfect match for creep Reader. After becoming immortal and taking way to long to realize he died and gained immortality in an extremely fucked sense the first person he hits up is his crush old pal who stuck around to take pictures he after ruined his body with whatever masochist stunt of the evening he committed. They used to just sit in his room and watch him do it, but now they can join on the fun without risking an accidental death charge
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Silas: Babe - watch this! It'll blow your mind!
[Holds a loaded gun to his temple and pulls the trigger - hopping to his feet seconds after blowing his head off]
Silas: Well? You're into me now, right??
Creep Reader: so... wanna get married this weekend? Pretty sure I'm free on Saturday
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starrystevie · 1 year
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"since when do you know how to use a gun?"
steve's standing in the bunker doorway with his arms crossed over his chest, hip balanced against the door frame. he's watching eddie meticulously clean what used to be a basic rifle that's turned into some monstrous thing hopper built with an additional barrel and multiple scopes. they just got back from a big fight that took a lot out of them all, so he's not surprised that eddie stays silent before clicking something into place. the sound of the metal echoes off the barren walls and he finally turns to look at steve.
"since i started hunting with dear old dad when i was 6."
he pulls off a scope, peers inside and frowns at something steve can't see before blowing against the glass lightly. there's a rag sitting next to him covered in some mix of blood, guts and grease and steve wouldn't be surprised if it isn't the first cloth he's had to use on that particular rifle. it's one of nancy's favorites, after all, and she's not known to clean up after every fight.
eddie looks good with a gun in his hand, steve thinks in some dark recess of his brain that ignores the part where he hates guns. he thinks about the part that loves the focus on eddie's face when he holds one instead, his jaw set in place. eddie looks older, they all do, but with scars dotting his face and wrapped around his neck and days old stubble covering his chin because they haven't had enough water for a shave, he looks mature.
there's a permanent scowl on his face that seems wrong, takes over where cheeky grins used to be. he misses the days where eddie's laugh was the only thing ringing in steve's ears, when his eyebrows weren't pinched in the middle, when he would play alongside the kids with wild expressions and jokes to match.
steve guesses coming back from the dead could do that to a guy.
"hey," he offers, a bit quiet and hard to hear over the clinking of the metal and the ambient sounds of the underground bunker they've lived in for months now. eddie's head stays dropped over the gun as he cleans but he gives a hum in response, so steve takes it as a go ahead. "i think i'm ready to take you up on that offer."
eddie snorts. he wipes some grease over a piece of the gun before setting it down on the table to grab something else steve couldn't name if he tried. "gotta be more specific, stevie boy."
"i want-" steve huffs and readjusts his stance to look more serious. he wants to bring eddie back, but that might be too hard to do in the apocalypse. "i want you to teach me how to shoot."
they spend their allotted 30 minutes above ground later that afternoon in the open space that used to be an old garden. there's trees surrounding them and cans sitting on an old cardboard box structure yards ahead of them. everything's tinted red from the upside down sky that bled into hawkins a year ago and never seemed to leave.
the only gun steve wanted was a handgun, a tiny thing that he can hide in the back of his waistband if he needed, backup for if he lost his bat in a fight. it's not that he wants to shoot, that can be left to nancy and hopper and apparently eddie now that he's healed up enough to fight. no, steve just wants a way to connect with eddie again. a way to bring a little glimmer of light back into his eyes that look more and more like the upside down darkness everyday.
"you need to hold it tighter, steve." eddie's next to him with an arm hovering under steve's elbow as he aims at the pepsi can in the middle of the stack. "it'll throw you back when you shoot, so you gotta be ready."
steve lets his fingers curl tighter around the gun, careful not to press down with his pointer finger that's over the trigger. he can hear eddie huff under his breath and then suddenly he's there, hand curled around his arm and chest pressed against his side. eddie's hand whips up to wrap around steve's on the gun and he shakes his arm like he's testing how tense steve is.
"noodle arms ain't gonna help you. hold it tight."
there's something about the red sky and decay in the air and eddie's gravely voice in his ear that gets to him, his southern drawl more prominent now that he's come back. it's like he's trying to be wayne, trying to replicate what he thinks a man should be because the best model for it that he's had is wayne. steve plants his feet firmly in the ground to ignore the icy shiver passing through his body.
eddie breathes in deep and steve copies him, his shoulder pressing in firmly to eddie as he does. it feels like the first real breath he's had in a while and all it took was eddie munson touching him for steve to breathe again.
"that's better," eddie says and drops his hand from steve's elbow to hover somewhere around his waist. "be relaxed, but concentrate. keep steady and don't let your eyes look away. how do you feel?"
even though he asked a question, steve feels like he shouldn't answer. in some ways, it feels like a trap, like if he says what he actually feels then it's all going to fall apart. but there's this part of him, this tiny, nagging part of him that doesn't want to go back into the bunker without telling eddie how he's felt for far too long.
"okay, i think."
"go ahead and shoot when you're ready."
"...okay."
they stand in silence for a beat. steve can feel eddie's breath tickling the long hairs at his neck and there's a ringing in his ears that he doesn't know what to do with. the air is more suffocating than ever and steve wonders if he pulled out his pocket knife if he could cut through the tension.
eddie's hand finally lands on steve's waist and it blazes through him like a bullet. how is he supposed to shoot a gun, this all powerful thing, when eddie is there? he's breathing and he's alive and he's right where steve wants him to be. he knows he must tense up, knows he must take in a shuddering breath at the contact because-
"stop," eddie says, breaking the silence and pushing away from steve. he feels colder now, the fire that licked along his veins not 3 seconds ago diminishing at the distance between them. steve sighs, takes his hand off the trigger and lets his arm hand limply at his side. "why did you ask me to help you with this? why not nancy or hop?"
his questions hits steve like an accusation and steve wishes he had expected for it not to happen. this is eddie now, he's a little bit harsh and more than a little bit angry at the world. and god, steve had hoped that being with him, that being outside with him would help just even for a minute.
he wishes the upside down would open up and swallow him whole so he could escape the glare that eddie's throwing his way, but he couldn't stand to be an addition to the pain eddie carries around on his back. steve looks him in the eye, shoulders pushed back and something like determination on his face, and hopes he can feel what he's feeling, too.
"you know why."
it's whispered but he knows eddie hears him. it's loud, always loud in hawkins now, but he knows eddie hears him.
somewhere in between dragging eddie out of hell and nursing him back to semi-okayness and staying up in the middle of the night with cold rags on foreheads and arms wrapped around waists, something started growing. steve knows he can't have all of eddie from 86 back, and that's okay. he's not the steve from 86, either.
but he'll try with every last breath he has to see him smile again.
eddie steps closer, shuffles his boots across the dirt until he can take the gun from steve's hand. he does something with it that steve can't really see, unloads the ammo and puts the empty pieces into the deep pockets of his cargo pants. there's lighting flashing across the blood red sky and he's sees it mirrored in eddie's eyes.
"you mean it?" eddie whispers back. steve is strong and he's been holding on for so long to see a light like that in the dark brown pools he's staring into that it cracks a smile onto his face and he sees eddie's lips pull up just the tiniest bit to copy him. it's a start.
"yeah."
steve knows they don't have much time left topside and soon enough hopper will be yelling over the speaker they wired up to the bunker door that they have to come in. he knows they don't have much time left in whatever hawkins has become, more and more creatures breaking through the liminal space between worlds every day.
they don't have the time, but steve would tell the earth to stop spinning for eddie any day, and fitting their palms together to tangle their fingers seems like the right way to spend whatever time they have left.
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chucksource · 5 months
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ami-ven · 1 year
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GuNS DoN’T KiLL PeoPLe, PeoPLe KiLL PeoPLe
Yeah, but it’s a lot harder for people who don’t have guns to shoot people.  Yeah, maybe people are gonna do violence anyway, but that doesn’t mean we have to make it easy for them
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ky-landfill · 2 years
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"Don't shoot anyone." "Shut it, big bird."
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keepscrollinghun · 5 months
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🚨 The IOF continue their invasion of #Jenin. Local sources report that the forces are still present in several areas, opening fire towards Jenin camp.
🚨 Palestinians are pictured being held by the Israeli occupation forces whilst they raided Burqin village, near Jenin.
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🚨 Occupation bulldozers are once again destroying streets and infrastructure in #Jenin camp. The IOF destroyed the memorial to the martyr Dr. Abdullah Abu Al-Tin.
🚨 Occupation forces have detained ambulance crews in the city of #Jenin and are preventing them from operating. In all parts of the city, medics report being stopped and searched.
🚨 A 45-year-old man with special needs, Issam Al-Fayed, ascended to martyrdom after he was shot by the IOF in #Jenin. He is the uncle of the martyrs Mohammed Fayed and Amjad Fayed. Glory to our martyrs.
—RNN
—@fatenelwan
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iamshmolphrog · 7 months
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It's sunday! you made it through another week! time to post cowboy crab!
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there he is! this rootin tootin bad guy shootin crustacean thinks you're doing great! have a wonderful week my darling crab enjoyers
(tag your mutals to spread the joy of cowboy crab @magical-bear-dubin @snailcheeserulz @a-mushroom-wizard)
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augustjustice · 8 months
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The definitive and very accurate ranking of Steve's favorite children goes as follows:
Dustin. Technically, shouldn't even be counted on the list because he is Steve's little brother and thus exists in an entirely different category from everybody else.
Erica, Max, and Lucas are all tied for first place (due to the aforementioned fact that Dustin is in his own separate category). He loves them all equally in different ways. If you put a gun to his head to pick one, you'd just have to pull the trigger, because he couldn't manage it.
El and Will. Circumstances mean Steve hasn't gotten the chance to know either of them as well as the others, but they are for the most part polite and well-behaved (with the exception of Will's sarcastic comments and El's tendency to go along with Max's shenanigans) in big group settings. When Steve claims to have a favorite because the party is driving him up the wall (often), he usually says it's one of these two.
...Michael Wheeler.
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tea-and-antlers · 24 days
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Listen I mock myself for being a former pop-punk princess as much as the next person but man oh man when you're on an old playlist and sitting on the bus at the ass crack of dawn to go to work and all the sudden you're hit with "sometimes before it get better the darkness gets bigger the person that you'd take a bullet for is behind the trigger" like yeah. Geez. Ouch.
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olithatwriter · 14 days
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Hello, everyone! My friend and I came up with an idea for a Sherlock AU! (I think it's an AU? Or more of an adaptation, as they look VERY different.) John is a YouTuber! This is HEAVILY inspired by Sherlock & Co, and the idea came about because she said some fanart made Sherlock and John look like YouTubers. I hope this idea hasn't been done before! I'm going to write it on A03, and as soon as I do, I will tag whoever would like to read it! Doc_And_Detect or just YouTuber Sherlock Holmes is what I'll call this! Also, I made some designs, but I can't draw so I used Gacha Life 2.
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If you'd like some funfacts about them, here they are!
Sherlock: Keeps a notebook full of detective work in it. Said notebook is being held together by duct-tape, zipties, and God himself. Gay. Autistic. Is a consulting detective, as per usual, and is best friends with Lestrade. He hasn't seen his brother in ages. Is actually nice once you get to know him.
John: He got a injured from a grenade blast. Has scars all up his arms, back, and legs, which is why he always wears long sleeves. Pansexual (probably). Still on the fence, but transgender? (FtM). Most likely has ADHD. Definitely has PTSD. He wears a knee brace.
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icespur · 4 months
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FERAL OVERPROTECTIVE BOYFRIEND AKECHI IF HE WAS IN PERSONA 5 STRIKERS
Related to above post
Edit 12/11: Upon Comment notifying I don't need to censor certain words, I've changed some to the original intention.
Edit 12/18: Uncensored whole post
Sees Zenkichi as an immediate threat. Tries to throw hands with the man and gives him death stares 24/7.
Gramps sealed his fate the second he openly revealed to the PTs that he's a cop. Akechi is like "I'm a former ally of the Police, I know what you're group does and what your true intentions are probably. Your "cool dad" vibe isn't fooling me one bit. I could care less what happens to most of these idiots BUT IF YOU SO AS GO WITHIN FIVE FEET OF MY JOKER WITH HANDCUFFS OR A GUN, YOUR ASS IS GRASS."
Akiren has to constantly be on watch to make sure his feral lover doesn't successfully snipe Zenkichi while he isn't looking. Because he definitely tries. Akiren just told him he couldn't shoot him with his gun, but he didn't say anything about killing the man with a sniper while hiding in a very convenient tree or hiding in a very out of place suspicious Trash Can or Bush. If it weren't for Akiren's Third Eye being able to see where Akechi is hiding, Gramps would be laying in a pool of blood on the pavement already.
"Why is that brunet man glaring at me?" Zenkichi points at Akechi hiding behind Akiren, but definitely not out of shyness. He's hugging Akiren in practically a death grip and staring at the Cop over Akiren's shoulder. If looks could kill, Zenkichi is certain his exploded headless corpse would be laying on the ground.
Extra: Akiren would try to get Akechi out of his "Detective mode" when trying to look for the next Monarch. By happily dragging him around every hotspot in a new city they travel to. Just because they are on a mission doesn't mean they can't take some time off and enjoy the sights!
"Babe, look at all the food stands! We have to try them all and fill the van full of souvenirs."
"Did you forget we're not soley on Summer break, but traveling because once again your freedom is on the line? We're investigating for more intel on the current Monarch first, then perhaps we can indulge oursel---AMAMIYA, LET ME GO."
Akiren literally grabs Goro by the arm and drags him away from the people he was questioning, and to the food stands. "Romantic sightseeing and shopping spree first, Detective work later."
"We are literally in the middle of an investigate--"
"ROMANTIC SIGHTSEEING. AND SHOPPING SPREE. FIRST. INVESTIGATION. LATER."
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heartfullofleeches · 2 years
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Masochistic Male Yandere x Gn Sadistic Reader
Word count: 2.9k
Warnings: violence, NSFW themes but no outright smut, gun play, dumbifcation mdni 18+
Sweet, kind Y/n. A pleasant neighbor, and friendly cashier at your local convenient store. No matter the weather, you greeted the day, and those you met during with a bright smile. With your cute and welcoming demeanor, it was no surprise that a few people had their eyes on you. Unfortunately for them, you already had a lovely partner you had no plans of leaving anytime soon. High-school sweethearts still going strong years after. Your boyfriend had a bit of a protective streak, but it never went too far. Such a shame that some people didn’t know when to give up the chase. 
After a long day at work, your shift had finally close to come to an end. The only people left in the store were you, your manager, and the recent hire – Marcus. From day one it was obvious he was a bit of a flirt. He warmed up to you quite well and talked your ear off whenever he got the chance. You paid no mind to his charms and even took part in the occasional chat with him; discovering you were practically neighbors in the process.
“Hey, Y/n. Doing anything after work?”
You were finishing up a transaction when Marcus tossed the question into the air. Eyes ahead as you hand the customer their receipt; you then turn to face him.
“Hmm. Dunno. Probably just gonna head home. What about you?”
“Most likely the same. I just wish these people would hurry up so we could get out of here.”
Though he mentions plural, Marcus only speaks of one person in question. Some guy that had been browsing the back shelves for while, repeating the same route for what had to be an hour by now. He gave Marcus the creeps. He was certain he had caught the guy staring at him a few times, but he didn’t want to alarm you or dampen his chances by seeming spooked himself. 
“It won’t be that much longer. I’m sure we can power through it.”
“Yeah…” He shifts around, suddenly feeling antsy. “I, uh, heard you mention you weren’t getting a ride home today? Is it cool if we walk to the bus stop together today?” 
“Of course! We’d have to walk the same way, regardless.”
A chip stand falls over at the back of the store. The guilty party immediately picks it and the discarded bags up, neither of you paying much mind after that.
“Cool….”
-
Your shift ends and you both ready to leave. Marcus goes to tell the guy off, but by then he had finally left. For some reason, he feels more relieved than he should have. You wait at the exit for him, waving him over as he heads in your direction. 
The bus station was a little ways down the street after crossing north. You both walk in silence until you reach the crosswalk; Marcus decides to strike up conversation as you wait for the light to change.
“So, how was your day?” 
“I’m pretty sure our day was fairly similar..” You chuckle as Marcus stammers out a response. “I well-.”
“I’m kidding. It was alright. Yours?
“Can’t complain.. That creepy guy in the back still has me a bit spooked though.” His face becomes slightly flushed. “ Part of the reason I wanted to walk with you.”
The signal changes, yet your feet hang on the edge of the sidewalk. 
“Creepy guy?” 
“Oh, uh, well there was this guy hanging around in the store for like an hour. I’m surprised you didn’t see him.”
Marcus swallows hard, regretting bringing that up. What a way to kill the mood. As if the statement meant nothing, you simply smile at him. 
“Must’ve been too busy with sales.”
You cross the street and continue towards the bus stop, retaining conversation through the entire way. Marcus purposely slows his steps to get as much information from you as he could. He lingers an inch to close for comfort for most, but you don’t seem to notice or care.
“Are there any restaurants nearby that you’d recommend, Y/n?” 
“Oh, yes, a ton. I can make a list for you if you want.”
“Actually, I was thinking that maybe we could-"
He pauses; eyes ahead as a shiver runs up his spine. You had finally reached the bus stop, the only landmark for the rest of the road. Every seat was empty, yet that wasn’t where Marcus’ gaze lied. Standing by the bus signal was a hooded individual; breathed deep and clouding the night air. Marcus recognizes him from his hoodie, and the look in his eyes. 
He takes one step back, and another; unsure on what to do. You, on the other hand, continue ahead, practically skipping your way over to the station. The stranger’s attention shifts to you, relaxing slightly as you draw near. Marcus reaches out to you as you pass.
“Hey, wait that’s…”
“Sammy!”
What-
Standing arm’s distance from your boyfriend, you hold your arms out to him with a grin. A head taller than you, he ducks forward as he dives into your arms; hands tight around your back. You bring your voice to a hush as you place your forehead against his, cupping his cheeks as your noses brush together. 
“Were you waiting here for me? Such a good boy.” 
Sammy’s lips pull into a smile of his own. His cheeks become dusted in crimson; a moment ruined by the footsteps behind you.
“Oh!” You turn to face Marcus, arm now at Sammy’s side. “Sammy, this is Marcus, my coworker. Marcus, this is Sam.”
Marcus had heard mentions of your partner in passing, but he chose to believe otherwise – probably for his own selfish reasons. Looking at him, he wondered what you saw in him. The guy was basically attached to your hip; protective arm over your shoulder. Wedging his body slightly between you and Marcus. He looked more like a guard dog than a regular person. Keeping face, Marcus waves.
“Hey.” 
Sam didn’t respond. And he didn’t plan to, till he felt your nails rake the skin of his torso.
“C'mon, Sam. It isn’t nice to ignore our neighbors.”
“Hi..” 
“Thank you. Now, may I ask what you’re doing here?”
“I got worried when you didn’t call me after you left, so I came to pick you up.”
A bold face lied, but one you allow anyway. 
“How sweet of you! I guess we should get going then. Bye, Marcus, see you Monday.”
And with that, you leave Marcus there alone. Despite seeing your partner in person, his pride refuses to let his heart stop beating for you.
-
Days passed and you returned to work on Monday, just like you said. You wore long sleeves, despite the heatwave over the store. Mop in hand, you clean up a spill from a broken bottle as Marcus hovers beside you.
“Did you get all the glass up?”
Your question catches him off guard. “Hm? Oh, yeah.”
“Everything ok?”
“Yea.. Just wondering.. Are things with your boyfriend okay?”
You stop mopping. “Of course they are. Why do you ask?”
“He just seems.. kinda off.”
You look towards the ground. “Sammy has his… moments, but I assure you everything is perfect fine. He’s a good boy.”
You go to put the mop up and continue with your shift. At the end of the day, Sam comes to pick you up yet again. Marcus notices dark marks on your wrists as you lift your arms to pull him into another hug.
-
“Dude, I’m telling you. Guy’s a total freak.”
With you having gone out for lunch that day, the only two people in the building were Marcus and another coworker of yours who had been there far longer. They hung outside by the trash cans while the latter smoked. 
“I mean, sure he’s a bit off, but they seem to be happy together so what’s the issue?”
“The issue is something has to be up. Y/n is way too soft for that guy. I’d be a much better fit for them.”
“What makes you so sure?”
Marcus pulls a piece of paper from his pocket with a smirk. “We’re having a little get-together at some coffee shop this weekend. I plan to butter them up a little, then bring them back to my place for a deeper ‘chat’.”
“You’re such a sleezeball.”
Sam felt sick. He wants to tear Marcus limb from limb that very second. You were his. His. And he was yours. Everyone knew that. They had to.
-
Marcus hums to himself as he climbs the stairs to his apartment door. He swings his keyring around one finger, happy as can be. He begins sorting through his keys as he reaches the door, spirits high as ever. Just a day away from his outing with you and you alone. How could his day get any better?
“Unlock the door and step inside. Do not turn around.”
The voice comes from nowhere. Marcus feels something pressing against his spine, before he can register the shadow behind him. 
“H-hey I don’t.”
The foreign object twists into his clothes. “Do what I say.”
He does as told, each step matched equally by the person behind him. The door slams shut with the click of its lock, Marcus hesitantly turning to look at the intruder. He’s met with a gun pointed directly at his temple, gloved finger on the trigger. 
“Did I say you could turn around?”
Marcus immediately turns to cowering. “Please don’t hurt me! You can have whatever you want.”
The intruder clicks his tongue. How did this coward think he could be a match for you when he caved so easily? He grabs Marcus by the shirt, lifting him up off the ground.
“There’s no way you’d be able to handle them..” He mutters, moreso to himself. 
“Huh?..”
“They have needs you could never satisfy.”
“I don’t understand what you’re trying to say.”
“Shut up. You’re going to do one thing for me, then I might let you live.”
“Anything. Please-" “Call them.”
“W-what?”
“Call. Y/n.”
Marcus searches his pockets for his phone, and the 
“Hello?”
“H-hey, Y/n.”
“Marcus? Is that you? Hey, what’s up?”
The intruder kneels, wrapping his arm around Marcus’ neck while his other hand keeps the gun to his temple. 
“Tell them you can’t hang out with them this weekend.. or ever, for that matter.”
“I..  just wanted to tell you, I don’t think I can hang out with you this weekend.”
“Hm? And why’s that?”
“Because.. Because..”
“The grip around his throat tightens. The intruder's voice remains hostile – though an undertone of weakness creeps into his words. “Because you’re a maggot trying to steal my place.”
Marcus breaks down sobbing. 
“Oh, I see. I’ll deal with you later.”
You hang up. The intruder seems to shudder at your final words, pushing Marcus onto the floor and fleeing from his home. 
-
Sam can feel the difference in the air as you climb in the passenger seat. 
“Is there something wrong, Y/n?”
You fold your arms over your chest. “My coworker has been avoiding me lately. He quit today.”
Sam tries his best to keep the corner of his lips from curling up. “Really? I’m so sorry to hear that.”
You lean against his shoulder, looking up at him as you hold his arm. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about it… would you?”
Your grip tightens ever so slightly. His heartbeat soars. 
“No… Of course not.” 
You stare at him in silence before another smile breaks across your face. “Okay! I’m so glad to hear that, because I have a surprise for you! You’ll get it tomorrow night.”
-
The oncoming night and next day are spent in anticipation for Sam. You kept your lips tight the entire morning; soaking up the want in his eyes. He wanted to pry for information, but knew of the punishments that would come with such questions. He nearly bit his tongue in two to keep from actively trying to reach those repercussions. 
“Sammy?”
Your voice comes from the bedroom. He bolts to the door like a flash. You sit on the edge of the bed, an innocent smile on your face as you beckon him to you. He towers over you from the position, but remains submissive and eager for your command.
“Are you ready for your surprise?”
He nods. Your smile grows.
“Hands.”
He places his hands in yours. Cold metal bites at his wrists. His head spins as you allow his now cuffed hands to fall into his lap. 
“Close your eyes.”
He does as told. He feels your hands around his neck, against the leather of the collar you bought him on your third anniversary. Hickies and the marking of fingers bruise his flesh. He lends into your touch as you massage the area. You had to calm him down ad nauseam that night when he saw the bruises he left on your skin, though he was the one that almost fainted. Excitement hits hard as you tilt his head up. Parting was such sweet sorrow, but the thought of a new collar had him ecstatic. 
“You know I love you, right?”
He hums in agreement. 
“Right?”
“Yes…” He breathes.
“And I’d do anything for you?”
“Yes, Y/n… I’d do anything for you, too. I love you so much.”
“Stick out your tongue then.” Sam opens his mouth, saliva coating your fingertips as you press your index and middle digit against his tongue. It pools past his lips as you push them further into his mouth. He does his best not to gag, sucking gently on your fingers. 
“Ready for your surprise?”
“M…mhm.”
He whines softly as you remove your fingers; shifting around on the bed as you grab something from beneath a pillow. Sam's mouth hangs open all the while, even as you place the item past his lips. Slender, metallic; invading his mouth as you grip his hair. It’s only when the muzzle touches his tongue that he recognizes what you had in hand. His eyes shoot open.
“Surprise!”
He stares barrel end at the hand gun you held; smiling sweetly as ever as you hold him in place. He barely gives any resistance, eyes watering as it hits the back of his tongue. A rush of shame washes over him as a low moan leaves his lips, overpowered by the ecstasy he feels as you giggle.
“I found this little thing in your car the night after Marcus called. Isn’t that the funniest coincidence?”
Sam pants heavily, drool running down the gun as you push and pull it from his mouth. “A..ah”
“I was kinda sad when he canceled, y'know. Thought I made a new friend.’
Sam's head spins. Any sane person would not have let something like this play out, but he was far from it. Drunk on the power of his love for you. The pleasure of your usual gentle hand tugging at his scalp.
“H-had to.” He chokes out. “Tried to stheal you frum me.” 
You giggle. “What are you talking about, silly? I was gonna let him down easy, and if he didn’t take that I would’ve ghosted him. I was never gonna leave you, you’re just making yourself jealous for no reason.”
Maybe what you were saying was true. Stalking you, watching your every moment often led to more jealous seeping through the cracks. You were too perfect for him. For anyone. He willingly let jealousy and obsession take over for moments like this. Where you reminded him your love was forever mutual in the only way it’d stick.
“Sorry. ‘M so sorry, Y/n. Forgive me.”
“I dunno.. I love you, but you might be too much of a liability.”
“Ple..ase, Y/n. Never will happen again.”
“I’m sorry, but I don’t think I can keep you around.”
He squeezes his eyes shut, just as you squeeze the trigger of the gun. The pain of rejection hurts more than that of whatever was to come. Still, in his final moments he can’t help, but love you even more. Nothing was greater to him than a death at your hands, but instead of everything fading to black, there’s a single, dry click!
He opens his eyes, laughter erupting from your chest as your cruel joke.
You lean forward and kiss his temple. “Of course I forgive you, Sammy. I love you! I’m just doing this so you learn your lesson.”
In that moment his affection for you practically busted from the seams.  He breaks out into giggles of his own. “Hehe… I love you, Y/n.. Love you. I love you. Hah.. Mine.. Don’t leave me. Hurt me more, break me.”
“Looks like you’re starting to learn.. Do you want to get taken from me?”
“Nuh-uh.. Luv you.. Wanna stay with you, forever~”
“Then you can’t go and do things like that with my permission. You’re lucky Marcus’ too much of a coward to go to the police.”
He holds onto your leg with all his strength. “Won’t do it again. Promise. Hah… Love you so much, Y/n.”
“That’s what I like to hear.” You thrust the gun down his throat one final time; your grip on his head making it ache yet magnifying the pleasure coursing through his veins. You remove the barrel from his mouth and place the gun on the nightstand. His hands slack, body numb and jaw sore. You help him up onto the bed and into your arms, nuzzle against your own racing heartbeat. 
You wipe a trail of droll from his lips and connect yours to his, squeezing a breath from his throat as you hold him close. His head space clears as you caress his aching body. comfort washing over knowing he was yours eternally.
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frownyalfred · 1 year
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me, writing a scene about guns: and the blaster -- wait, no, fuck--
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