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Literature Text
To kiss someone with a knife,
To caress her skin with a chainsaw,
To nudge him with a blunt hammer,
To stroke them with sandpaper,
To love us with arsenic,
To shut its eyes with an iron poker,
To hush you with a choke,
To make me dream with promises of murder.
To caress her skin with a chainsaw,
To nudge him with a blunt hammer,
To stroke them with sandpaper,
To love us with arsenic,
To shut its eyes with an iron poker,
To hush you with a choke,
To make me dream with promises of murder.
Literature
Sherlock x dying!reader: last chance
"The warehouse." Sherlock said putting on his coat.
"I'm sorry, what?" you questioned.
He only sighed obviously irritated with your inability to keep up.
"The warehouse where the last body was found. The victims work place. It's the boss Y/N"
"The boss is the killer?"
"Yes Y/N, keep up, would you?"
"is that where you're off to?"
"Where we're off to, yes." he stated putting emphasis on the 'we're'
"Right." You sighed slipping on your coat and boots before pulling on a pair of leather gloves.
Taking your smaller hand is his the pair of you made your way down stairs to hail a cab.
***
"He's got to be here somewhere."
"Why would he be here, Sher
Literature
Regret (Sherlock x Reader)
“I shouldn't have come…”
“(Y/N)-”
“It’s TOO LATE!” Your eyes watered as your lips trembled subconsciously. Sherlock stood motionless beside the empty fireplace, facing you as you stood up from the armchair. “You’re too late…” It took Sherlock less than a second to notice the ring around your finger.
“You’re...engaged” He uttered softly. Sherlock’s chest ached uncomfortably as he was hit with a wave of overpowering emotion, yet it barely showed. Not a muscle of his twitched.
“Yes… John’s not the only one who's moved on” You
Literature
Night Terrors Sherlock x Reader
It had been weeks since the incident. Everything seemed to go back to normal on Baker Street.
Sherlock continued to be an annoying know-it-all. John kept on blogging. And you were often at 221B. It was more of a home than your actual flat.
Except for the nightmares. They never seemed to get better. Only worse and more vivid as time went on.
What if Sherlock didn't get to you in time?
What if the crazy man had the chance to keep you?
Would he have blown you up? Or, something much, much worse?
These were things the night terrors focused on. Picking out one of the fears of your mind and conjuring it up into a 'reality'.
You never dare tol
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Hannibal related, I wanted to play with contrast .
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chilling...good job!