#he went to prison for domestic violence trying to kill her

[nightmarist]

My fathers been getting drunk every single weekend for the past five years bc he feels bad abt my mom dying and gets increasingly worse every week. My brother in Christ, you’re the one who abused her.

He came in drunk off his ass wanting to bleed his feelings at me and I’m just not fucking having it.

[cultofdixon]

Haunted by what is forever told on our skin

Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • When the group found the prison, no one expected the past to come and haunt us all even if they don’t understand until life is re-written • ANGST/SFW • TW: PTSD / Past Abuse / Domestic Violence / Scars / Injuries / Past Attempt Mentioned / SH Scars

Requested by: Anon

“We found a place that we can make into our new home” Rick started. “We obviously need to fix a few things for the immediate future. But it’s got good walls”

“What is it?”

“It’s a prison, which I know sounds unsettling at first but once we take care of the walkers…it’s pretty golden” Rick finished and went to check on his family while the others started to pack up the vehicles knowing they will be leaving once he’s ready.

Daryl noticed Y/N stand still for a really long time for unknown reasons that started to concern him. But when she noticed him looking at her, she quickly picked up her pack and went to join Glenn and Maggie.

Odd…

They weren’t going to tackle the main prison just yet given the time of day. All they did was take out the walkers in the yard and get their cars within the gates before making camp for the night.

Y/N watched Carol go over to Daryl to give him what accounts for dinner with what they’ve got before turning her attention back toward the prison. This time catching the attention of someone more curious and willing to speak up.

“Have you been here before?” Beth questions Y/N, snapping her out of her thoughts as she gave her a concerned look.

“Like what, a prisoner?”

“No, just. Well yes and no”

“Not as a prisoner…more like. Visiting…loved ones…” Y/N frowns squeezing her hands together to avoid an anxious harmful habit that she knew she wouldn’t be able to do in front of them anyway.

“You think we killed them?” Glenn suddenly blurts as Maggie smacks him in the arm. “What? You’re telling me people survived the outbreak in that prison?”

“Don’t mean you have to ask somethin’ like that when you don’t know the rel—-“

“I haven’t…seen him in years. He could’ve been released or…executed for all I know. Only have seen him twice and the second time wasn’t…pretty” Y/N got up from the group, going to take a walk and clear her head on the matter. All while Maggie lectured Glenn about pushing boundaries.

When Daryl came back to the group with Carol, he noticed her absence immediately but as he scanned the surrounding area for her…he watches Rick make his way over to her given he hasn’t stopped walking the perimeter since they’ve gotten inside.

Y/N stared at a walker gnawing at the fence from the other end trying to reach for her. She stepped closer to the fence rolling her sleeve up and testing fate when the voice in her head told her to stop, as well as the voice behind her.

“What’s wrong” Rick asked with a concern look on his face when she turned toward him. With the light from his flashlight he noticed the scars that littered her arms making her instantly cover them. He knows as a cop not to trigger the situation further, even if most cops tend to do that anyway. But he’s not like most. “You want to scout with me? Don’t have to be in the mess of people for a moment”

“Mess of people?” Y/N laughs slightly. “You know you’re including your wife and son in that mix”

“I do…” Rick frowns, now walking with Y/N around the place. “Honestly we’ve all done something stupid and yet I’m paying for it the most given the silence I’m receiving from Lori”

“…You know, don’t you?”

Rick didn’t utter another word but gave her a look that confirmed it all.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner”

“Well, I still don’t know you. Not a stranger. But still not enough to share something like that” Rick shrugs. “I’m not mad at you”

“Right…still. I feel bad. No one should have to deal with that. End of the world or before”

Something about what she said only drew the concern to a higher level. Rick gestured with his head to return to the rest of the group and as he went to sit with his family, Y/N went to sit alone outside of the group facing away from them. The only time she was addressed was when T-Dog dragged a blanket over her shoulders, the flinch that came from her caught Daryl’s attention even more.

When the morning came, which meant time to progress inside the prison grounds…they were careful taking out the walkers in the courtyard before taking the risk of entering the building. Rick, Daryl, T-Dog, Maggie, and Y/N took care of being the first to sweep the cellblock they entered. Taking out the few walkers they came across, including seeing a few prisoners that have met their fate to the undead or found a quick way out of the mess before they met that end.

Y/N lingered too close to a locked cell on the second story not seeing anything immediately until the walker forced itself against the bars causing her to stumble back.

Rick quickly came over taking the walker out as Daryl brought himself to her checking her person.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah. Uh…yeah” Y/N frowns stepping past him returning to the first floor to help Maggie in any way.

The group started to make home of the cell block for now and will progress further into the place in a bit. Just for now they were taking a break. While others claimed cells as their new “rooms”, Daryl took the catwalk not liking the idea of living in a cell and he wasn’t the only one to think such.

“Need help?” Glenn asks Y/N if she needed a hand pulling the mattress out of the cell and into the main walk way on the first floor.

“Oh uh. Yeah sure” She frowns letting Glenn help her move the mattress and before he left, he quickly grabbed one of their many blankets handing it to her. “Thanks…”

“Of course” Glenn smiles leaving to check on Maggie and her family.

Daryl leans against the railing watching Y/N sit on the mattress bringing her knees to her chest and hide her face. Her whole body tensed and hasn’t relaxed since they’ve entered the prison.

The group hasn’t relaxed like this since the farm and they were getting used to the temporary quiet.

The next morning a few took inventory of the gear they’ve found in the prison, then came to the decision of checking the rest of the prison. The men plus Maggie and Y/N. Daryl took lead while the rest followed through the darker parts of the prison.

Maggie getting spooked by Glenn after he marked the direction they came from only stressed the others and Y/N did her best not to scream as a trigger response to hers.

Then it became a game with the walkers coming from every direction, even where they came from. Resulting in being separated from Maggie and Glenn. But when Hershel retraced his steps, he unfortunately gotten bit. A bit of scrambling resulted in T-Dog and Y/N holding the doors to their only entrance and exit while the others held down Hershel so that Rick can cut off the infected part of his leg.

But it wasn’t long for them to realize they weren’t alone.

Y/N felt as if she was struck down with the realization that she recognized one of the prisoners that Daryl and T-Dog were currently holding their stand with.

“We gotta go!” Rick shouted resulting in Y/N pulling away from the door ignoring who she had just saw and helped Glenn with holding the makeshift gurney to get Hershel on.

Everything seem to escalate while a good chuck of their own focused on Hershel then Daryl took liberty with T-Dog to keep the prisoners in check until Rick came to break the news about the reality the prisoners are now living in.

It wasn’t until they stepped outside to see for themselves when Tomas, the one with the gun, turned to the three with one question that led to a million internal ones.

“The woman with yea, where the hell you find her?”

T-Dog gave Daryl a questioning look as to who he’s referring to. Maggie or Y/N. Because they were the only women they saw.

“Who are you talking about?” Rick questions keeping his hand hovered over his gun. Tomas took note of such and decided to drop it.

Meanwhile inside the prison the chaos died slightly, all they could really do is keep an eye on Hershel and check his dressings. Y/N stood by the cell with Glenn to keep an eye on him in case you know what happens, orders by Rick of course. Glenn couldn’t help but get more anxious just from being in Y/N’s vicinity.

“What’s wrong?” He whispers to avoid alerting the rest. “Do you think he’s—-“

“It’s not about Hershel. Don’t…worry about it”

“How can I not when we just learned we’re not alone in here? What do you think the prisoners have done to get in this place?”

Y/N clenched her fists trying to fight back the anxiety induced tears or more so the PTSD she’s trying to avoid reliving but the sheer knowledge alone of him alive was driving her insane. Carol from the corner of her eye couldn’t help but have concerns for her because she understands.

________

“It’s…not the best, Sophia. But at least we’ll be safe until he calms down…” Carol reassures her daughter as they were directed into a room they were gonna have to share given how many people the facility has in that moment.

The woman on the other side of the room hugging her knees to her chest avoiding looking at them when they entered. She had just arrived there for the first time and wasn’t used to how many people. Granted the amount of people only made her feel worse that so many in her shoes need to find this escape instead of leaving the relationship they were in.

“Hello” Carol started, letting Sophia get comfortable on the bed as she hesitantly approaches. “I’m Carol. This is Sophia, my daughter” she frowns watching tears roll off her cheeks. “I guess we’ll be roommates for a while. We won’t make a fuss—-“

“You’ve been here before…the way you’re talking…you’ve been here before”

“Unfortunately” Carol frowns watching the woman finally face her to notice the swollen black eye and her wrist in a cast. “You’re new aren’t you?”

“…Unfortunately” She scoffs. “I should’ve known…sooner…before the cops got involved”

Carol brought herself to sit on the bed with her giving her a look asking for permission to rest a reassuring hand on her knee which she granted.

“We like to believe that they will get better. Some just. Go too far and need the intervention…”

The woman frowns only nodding to her words as she held herself close again feeling her hand slip away.

“Do you have a name?”

“It’s—-“

________

“Y/N” Carol frowns finally having a moment away from the mess, being handed a towel from her because of the blood all over her person. “Y/N are you alright?” She whispers to keep this conversation between themselves but all Y/N could do was show discomfort in her expression and try not to let the tears fall.

“We can’t let them stay here. They aren’t good people. He’s not a good person” Y/N wanted to let go but they were soon interrupted by Rick.

“Y/N I need your assistance with clearing a cellblock for the prisoners”

“Do you think that’s a good idea?” Carol questioned immediately and for her.

“We’ll kill them if they go too far but for now. We made the deal so we can get half of their supplies. We need to hold a front for a short while longer or until they’ve proven—-“

“Rick” T-Dog calls for him outside their block as he nods indicating they’re on their way.

“I’m sorry. I need Y/N. Glenn is watching Hershel and Maggie is out of commission for now. I need a good fighter and she’s one of them” Rick states, taking Y/N’s arm only for her to shove him off before walking toward T-Dog. The smallest action made Carol smack him in the harm.

“You push her and you won’t hear the end of it” Carol threatened before returning to Hershel’s aid as that left more suspicion with Rick.

When they started to go over the plan with the prisoners, Tomas instantly locked onto Y/N who made herself known finally.

“Baby—You’re alive” Tomas declared about to make his way over to Y/N when Rick stopped him. Daryl instantly looked at her as the tension and anxiety from her all made sense when they arrived. “What? There’s no prison laws anymore. I don’t have to wait for visiting hours to see my girl”

“She’s here to help. Not rekindle anything from the before” Rick stated pushing him back as that only angered the man but before he could even retaliate, Y/N quickly pulled Rick back blocking the way resulting in hesitation from Tomas.

“Just listen to him Tomas” Y/N struggled to keep a steady speech but the way he relaxed and nodded. This was only going to put her in a position that Rick will hate himself for later. Hell, the hate will come from more than him.

As Y/N steps back she felt Daryl’s gently tap her arm indicating for her to stand with him. Which she did. Tomas had her attention all on her while Rick explained how they are going to handle the walkers.

As the group watched the prisoners take out a handful of walkers in their own creative way. Daryl turned to Y/N watching her struggle to get a deep breath in given being in the same room as the man who hurt her was only making her suffocate.

“Hey…take a breath. C’mon” Daryl whispers keeping his attention on her, lifting his hand and lowering it then repeating to show he’s trying to get her to follow the breathing pattern. “There. You’ve got it…I’ve gotcha”

When they were alone in a room for a more controlled way of taking out the walkers, Tomas brought himself close to Y/N but enough for her to hear him given Daryl was hovering.

“Miss me?” He smirks watching her step away. “Aww come on baby. I’ve been good. I was going to get out in good behavior if the world didn’t end”

“Oh yeah, which guard did you bribe into helping—-ow!” Oscar snapped as Tomas smacked him in the arm.

“I have a restraining order. You wouldn’t—-“

“Baby girl. You’re right here. Right now. It’s the end of the world and the laws don’t apply—-“

“Focus” Rick snaps and then one of the prisoners got scratched right when the wave calmed down.

The other prisoners were trying to argue in saving their friend but right as the arguing got to a point, Tomas suddenly took the crowbar he had to killed the prisoner. The action put Y/N in a frozen state of mind as she tried to get herself out of there but she wasn’t moving. Then when Tomas decided to put all his anger toward the prisoner when he really wanted it toward another, Daryl forced Y/N to look away but she wouldn’t move so he blocked her view.

“You see the look on his face?” Daryl asked Rick as they hung in the back covering Y/N from Tomas who was in front of them.

“He makes one move…”

“Just give me a signal” Daryl stated as they all entered the laundry room from the looks of it.

One door.

One door was what Rick told Tomas to open.

…

Everything just has to go to shit huh?

Tomas tossed the walker at Rick directly and while he did and the others took care of the rest. He instantly went for Y/N. He heard the two of them talking and it doesn’t take a genius to understand that one wrong move and he’ll get killed in the process.

“No—No no” Y/N instantly thrashed against his grip only for Tomas to pull her into him wrapping his arm around her front but have his hand on her throat. “Please——“

“I tried to be buddy buddy for this pig bastard. But I know the only reason I’m in here in the first place is because of you” Tomas whispered angrily, tightening his hand around her throat.

“Let go of her” Daryl snapped readying his crossbow but before he fired, Rick stopped him as the gun Tomas had pressed itself against her throat.

“Lower it or I won’t hesitate” Tomas threats putting his finger on the trigger as Y/N couldn’t help the tears in that moment. “I know you’re just going to kill us the second you have a chance because of what we were in the past—“

“Right now you’re just provin’ you haven’t changed” Rick stated keeping his attention on Tomas as well as Daryl but he also took note of how Y/N was doing and by her body language, she wants this to be over. “The fuck do you want in order to let her go unscathed…mostly” he watches his grip on her neck lessen but not enough for her to free herself.

“Let me go. Like that one said before. Let me try to fend for my goddamn self out there with the stuff I’ve got” Tomas pressed the gun into her neck more when he watched the two move. “You have to lower your weapons entirely…or I will kill her on my way out”

I’m not losing her Daryl instantly lowered his crossbow, even set it on the ground and that action led Tomas to glare at Rick to do the same along with T-Dog who had a different vantage point.

Tomas slowly stepped back, dragging Y/N along with him before tossing her to the ground keeping his gun pointed at the few. He waited a moment then turned on his heel making a break for it but before Daryl could grab his crossbow, Rick stopped him as Y/N took out her holstered gun aiming it at Tomas and taking the shot. He dropped instantly and his death led to another prisoner losing it and making a break for it.

As Rick grabbed his gun chasing after the other prisoner, T-Dog kept the other two in check while Daryl quickly brought himself to Y/N’s aid assessing how bad the bruising was on her throat and noticing the return of the frozen state she was in.

“Has she spoken to anyone since it happened?” Lori questioned Rick as the two were at the entrance to the prison watching Y/N sit in the field alone.

“No, but I know for a fact Daryl ain’t gonna leave her out there alone for much longer” Rick referred to the archer who couldn’t keep his gaze away from Y/N when he was helping T-Dog with more walker burn pits.

After some time, Y/N flinch hearing footsteps as she turned around to find Daryl holding his arms up in surrender. She relaxed turning herself back around as he brings himself close taking his poncho off and carefully putting it on her.

“If you’re gonna stick around out here might as well have that” Daryl sat himself down beside her leaning back on his hands.

“You wanna know don’t you?”

“Know what?”

“What he did. How he got there…I can’t explain why he was the way that he was but I can try—-“

“We all have our scars. You don’t have to share yours…we all were just. Scared for yea even when we didn’t know” Daryl frowns watching her get comfortable with the poncho on her as she kept her bruises hidden the best she could.

“He hurt me. The first time was…or I thought it was an accident. Then it kept happening every time I did something wrong or he was mad at something else.” Y/N frowns hugging her knees close to her chest. “He even got mad when I tried to get out of it…”

“Get out of the relationship, right?”

The look she gave him was full of sadness and even when the threat being permanently gone, there was still the anger toward her past self for letting it happen for so long and not ending it sooner.

“Oh…well, uhm. I’m glad you’re still here” in some way, that was him telling her exactly how he felt about her.

Y/N finally let herself break with the tears starting to stream down her cheeks. She held herself while she sobbed, gripping onto the poncho reminding herself that she’s safe now.

“I won’t let anyone hurt yea…ever again” Daryl promises then…

and will promise forever.

[charleslee-valentine]

Flesh and Blood need Flesh and Blood

For the Texas Chainsaw Massacre Disability Pride Month event: Day 6- Underestimated

Word Count: ~3,100

Warnings: Blood and violence. Accidental killing. Period typical ableism & ableist language. Mild panic attacks. Domestic abuse. Religious aspects.

_________

“Take him home. Now, boy.” Drayton Sawyer barks in his middle brother’s face, keeping his yelling hushed to avoid causing a scene.

“Y-Yessir.” Nubbins, for his part, gives a nod and takes off running, only stopping when his clammy hands wrap around the handles of a wheelchair.

Franklin’s wheelchair.

It’ll be a long walk from here, takin’ the road shoulder all the way from the gas station to home, but Drayton’s got a mess to clean and customers to serve that oughta take priority over drivin’ the boys home. Couldn’t be arranged unless it was planned, and nothin’ about today had been goin’ in that sort of direction.

The boys were all together in the station’s yard, running not wheeling or wobbling to the best of their abilities. Using whatever toys they could scrounge together they’d made a game, pitchin’ crushed soda cans, wads of dry gum, a bouncy ball, and so so long as they could smack it around with a bat. Ain’t no objective, though eventually they started trying to catch each other’s swings.

Bubba’s only nine still and learnin’ to upkeep all the things he’d been taught. It’s harder work for him to retain things in his brain, so he stumbles when he walks and struggles to hold a fork at supper, but that’s just Bubba. Mangled little face and all, that’s the Sawyers’ kid brother and he’s goin’ to be included in their play.

Ain’t up to no yuppie scum t’ decide who’s doin’ what and where. Don’t stop them from sharin’ uncalled for opinions.

“That boy out there, you ought lock him up ‘fore someone gets hurt. Teenaged, child, whatever. Don’t matter to them like that. Those are freaks of nature, ‘n whatever they are, they’s goin’ ruin it all the same. Comin’ after the comfortable. You know what I’m sayin’.”

The man wouldn’t stop lecturing Drayton about allowing Bubba to play in the yard with his brother and a friend, like that was the worst option. Like he had any clue of when Mama was perfectly willing to let the state take Bubba for a price, just before her disappearance from the picture. Had a lot of nerve bein’ so ignorant out loud.

Well thing is, Franklin was playing batter, and the man was storming over to lecture here too, and Drayton wasn’t quick enough comin’ ‘round the counter to stop it, and he just reacted. Swing the bat.

Broke the man’s nose on the first swing, saw blood and panicked. Kept swingin’ and jabbing with the bat ‘til his instincts told him the threat was gone and he could stop. Just like swatting a bug.

Except a man’s skull was spilling its contents all over the ground, and nobody even said a word. Nubbins went straight to helping his big brother carry it, Bubba took the bat and ran it inside. The practiced nature of what they were doing, hiding the evidence, didn’t really occur to Franklin just yet. His mind was focused on the trouble he’d face from the law or his parents or even God for this, nevermind if the Sawyers didn’t care.

Now Nubbins is just pushin’ him along like it’s not an issue in the world, and Franklin can’t help but worry out loud, “Oh Lord, why’d I do that?”

“D-Do what?” Nubbins tilts his head and leans down into Franklin’s line of vision, slowing their forward progress from leaning on the wheelchair so heavily.

“You saw me! I killed that man!” Franklin’s voice cracks harshly, his cheeks tinging pink from the embarrassment of that, as if that’s worse than homicide.

But Nubbins straightens out some and casually reminds him, “He was mean.”

Franklin blinks away the surprise of his casual nature and sputters, “Lots of people are mean! But I hit him ‘cross the head with a steel bat! That’s mean too, dontcha think?”

“Nawh.”

“Naw?! Nubbins I'm goin’ to prison. I beat a guy to death and my fam’ly gonna hate me, they ain’t never gonna let me back! Not even God’s gonna want me, it’s gotta be a sin to kill another man. Oh Lord I’m goin’ to Hell Nubbins!”

With Nubbins behind him and nobody around for miles, Franklin won’t deny he started crying.

Nubbins shocks him out of it again with a curious comment, “Wh-What’s it like?”

“What’s what like?” Franklin sniffles, picking at his nails nervously.

His friend downright giggles, “Hell. What’s Hell l-like? I-I never been there.”

Sometimes he forgets the Sawyers aren’t of the faith, seeing it’s so common in his own life. Had to lie downright and tell his mama that they’re church goers alright, just a different sect so they’ll never see them on Sundays. Think he said they was witnesses or somethin’. Sometimes it felt like God was more important to them than even he was, a lonely child ignored for the sake someone they don’t even know’s grace.

Now ain’t the time to be doubtin’ his beliefs, so he sticks to them, and explains, “Hell is where the bad people go when they die.”

“You isn’t a.. a bad people. That other guy was. H-He was mean to Bubba. Anyone m-mean to Bubba gots to sp-splatter.” One of his hands comes down on the rubber lined handle of the wheelchair, making a dull thud that rattles Franklin’s bones. Almost worse than his comment, “H-He smashed up r-real good too, Frankie!”

“Oh God, I’m gonna be sick..” Franklin gets overwhelmed until it tightens in his stomach and feels funny in his throat. He covers his mouth, “You got a bag I could throw up in?”

Despite Franklin’s urgency, Nubbins sounds so casual, “Jus’ lean o-over.”

“My spine is paralyzed silly, I cain't just lean any way I wanna.” Correcting him works to calm Franklin down some at least, staying level headed so he don’t yell at Nubbins over forgetting a good excuse to breathe normal.

“Oh. I c-can help lean ya.” He offers patiently, impressive for Nubbins.

Franklin decides a few deep breaths’ll do. “It’s alright- No I don’t think I’m gonna be sick no more. It’s alright.”

“My sick lasts a.. a l-lot l-longer than that!” There’s something like admiration there in his voice. Like it’s got nothin’ to do with Epstein-Barr and it’s just some talent Franklin has that makes him feel better.

He laughs softly, “That’s ‘cause you got a condition.”

“Nuh-Uh.” Nubbins argues, even though it isn’t true.

“Oh, alright.” Franklin just agrees ‘cause that’s easier. And things are good for a while, pleasant. ‘Til his worries come out again and the reality of running away from murder with Nubbins sets in, “You think your brother is mad at me?”

“N-No. Not you. H-He don’ hit no o-outsiders.”

“I ain’t an outsider. I’m your best friend.”

Switching to pushing the wheelchair with only one hand, he shakes out the other, happy from hearing Franklin say that. Nubbins wants Franklin to be happy too, “That’s true. B-But.. I won’ let him hurt ya! I-I’ll take the beatin’. It’s no t-trouble.”

Somehow, that brings more dread into Franklin’s heart, “Critter, that don’t make me feel better.”

Not knowing a better way to settle it, Nubbins just shrugs and keeps down the path towards home, imitating buzzing car engines as they pass, or the crunch of Franklin’s wheels along the cracking road. Ain’t all that worried honestly for the crime scene they’re leaving behind.

That’s when Franklin remembers that the second he had swung the bat, Bubba got overwhelmed by the confrontation and run off towards home. Can tell he’s in there from the curtains being drawn up tight when he knows for certain they was open when he got dropped off this morning.

Nubbins seems to remember about the same and takes off jogging a little faster down the rest of the drive, shaking Franklin’s wheelchair around accidentally. He lets it slide since it’s a big brother’s concern for his sibling causing the rush and don’t ask him to slow down.

After dragging him backwards up the stairs, Nubbins shoves the door open and calls out, “B-Bubba, you home yet?”

If they’re quiet, they can both hear a quiet chuffing noise deep in the house somewhere, Bubba making noises like a pig to soothe himself.

“C’mon L-Leatherface, answer me if- if you’s here!” Nubbins raises his voice some impatiently while pulling Franklin inside after himself.

This time they get some babbling in response, and though Franklin wishes he understood the little Sawyer’s language, he’s not a master yet.

It’s a good thing Nubbins answers his question just fine, “Yeh, I-I got Frankie with me. You c-come out. I need- I need helps with supper.”

Out of the basement he emerges, no sign of the distress beyond an extra layer of clothes, a soft jacket he wears when he needs the comfort. Don’t know who it belonged to for it to be so large, hanging down past his curled up hands and almost to his knees, but he loves that thing. At some point, Franklin realized it was a woman’s robe and thought it might belong to his mother, but she’s a mystery to Franklin too.

“Cook gonna be o-ornery when he gets home, so’s I-I want you to help make s-somethin’ good!” Taking on the big brother role, Nubbins bosses him around, “Me ‘n F-Frankie, we gonna clean up and get- get the house nice, s-so you gonna cook!”

All together they get it presentable, sweeping the floors and wiping down the counters. Franklin is assigned to the dining room only since he’s never been in the kitchen, setting up a fancy table cloth and some plates. Never seen the place look so tidy before, wonders if they only do cleaning up for the holidays or guests.

Somehow it all feels like he’s preparing for the gallows, sentenced to a hanging the very moment Drayton gets home and subjects him to whatever punishment he’s got to face. An eye for an eye, killed by the same bat maybe? The police called on him and shooting him blank in the head when he cries. Hopefully not one of the oldest Saywer’s signature beatings, he’d almost rather one of the other choices.

He’s shaking like a leaf by the time Drayton cracks the door open, talking to them at a low tone ‘cause he knows they’d be close, not stupid enough to hide after this.

“Boys. Today’s uh- been a big day, huh?”

Draytons words trail off into a chuckle, but everyone else stays silence. Franklin gives a wet sniffle, on the verge of tears again.

Putting his hands on the back of the master chair, he leans forward and glances down the table, showing a crooked smile. “Supper don’t look too bad. Uh. I brought you uh- somethin’ down from the station-“

Over his shoulder, he gestures to a grocery bag he left by the door.

Nubbins starts bouncing in his seat, drumming his palms against the table, “I-Is it the beeve!?”

“Don’t you go ruinin’ the surprise!” Drayton kicks the seat of his chair, all that modest cheer melted into fury in the literal blink of an eye, “Did you tell him?!”

Franklin swallows thickly, “Tell me what, sir?”

“About the meat!”

“No.. I.. No sir. I don’t got a clue what you’re talkin’ about. Either of ya.”

“In that case-“ He goes off to retrieve the bag and brings it to the table, raising it up along with his eyebrows at the same time, nudging it forward until he unveils what’s inside. Butchered meat, it seems, but the third piece comes out with lightly burnt skin left on, and a tattoo. “Congratulations, Franklin! You’re one of us now!”

“My- My firstie t-time was a long time ago. You’s jus’ a l-late bloomer like Bubba!” Nubbins adds, clapping Franklin on his shoulder over and over, like he’s petting a dog.

Franklin who’s mouth has gone so dry he’s got to down half his whole glass of sweet tea, “You’re talkin’ about killin’.”

“Uh-huh! Mine was a.. Bank man! B-Bank man come to take Drayton’s truck away, h-he put his hands on me, a-an’ I slashed his ugly neck r-right open!” Nubbins excitedly imitates an over-exaggerated spraying of blood by pushing air between his teeth and making the splatter with his hands.

It’s amusing, but the gravity of what they’re telling him holds Franklin’s joy down deep inside, “I jus’ don’t understand why. I never known anybody in the whole world to be like this. Killers this way.”

“We gots to eat.” Clearly repeating what somebody else told him, Nubbins gives a noncommittal shrug, “D-Dogs in the world ‘an stuff, w-we gots to eat each other.”

Ah. So he is right about that. Drayton cooked up the man he killed on accident and brought it home as some kind of treat for the boys.

Franklin tries to avoid havin’ to do the act by bringing up his own condition, diabetes type one, “Surely that ain’t good for my blood sugar. I got that disease you know, makes my sugar go up and down and I gotta watch it real close-“

“B-B-But you been eatin’ it j-jus’ fine all this time!” Nubbins interrupts him.

That’s when it clicks. He’s been doin’ what they do. Gettin’ so close to the Sawyers, the town loonies, was gonna end in somethin’ like this he s’posed. Everyone who said he’d always be a weak little baby, well they just didn’t know that he had it written in the stars he was gonna be a killer.

“Sally said the meat tasted rotten.” He comments vaguely, realizin’ he really is special this time.

Nubbins scoffs, never the biggest fan of Sally. “Sh-She would.”

“Oh hush. You aren’t to lay a hand on her, you hear?” Franklin scolds, but it’s just gently, just to make sure he isn’t doin’ the wrong thing by sittin’ at this table and not running.

Well, wheeling. He’d probably not outwheel Nubbins’ run, even if he’s got the arm strength to cave in a human skull.

“Never ever.” Making a cross over his heart, Nubbins declares it to him, “I swears, o-on my s-sick Granny.”

Dead granny. Franklin knows the woman ain’t still kickin’ no matter how much Nubbins insists she is. Though with this revelation he’s goin’ through lately, it prob’ly ain’t a lie that she’s in the upstairs of their house.

“Jesus. Well alright.”

The rest of the agreement is eat the evidence of his crime with the boys, then he’s free to go home. Seems so simple, it gets Franklin’s heart just pounding in his chest.

“I don’t.. Gotta keep up the killin’ now, do I?” He asks, on his way out to get driven back next door.

“Wouldn’t imagine.” Drayton is the only one out here yet while Nubbins runs around like a madman packing back up a bag of toys he’d scattered all around, forgetting Franklin wouldn’t get to stay forever.

“And I’m allowed to go home?” Franklin keeps asking, sounding feeble and scared.

This time he gets a scoff, like he should find that obvious, “Don’t do kidnappin’. Never let the boys keep one longer than a single night. After that- Lights out.”

One more, “And you really won’t hurt my family?”

“Not the girl, anyhow. No promises on your old man.” Drayton cackles, downright, like some kind of witch.

Franklin knows the bastard ain’t kind, certainly not to his own uncle Lefty or his wife, or actually his kids now that he thinks about it, but he’s not sure his Daddy deserves death over that. “That ain’t funny.”

“Wasn’t joking.” The oldest Sawyer assures him, cold smile dropping away again. “Siblings, they mean a lot more to the heart. You’ll understand that someday way I do.”

He extinguishes the cigarette he’d been smoking right in Franklins face by crushing it against a window sill, “That’s your little sister an’ I’ll respect it. Not a hair outta place on little Sally’s head.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“In exchange for that you keep your damn yap shut.”

Eagerly, to show he ain’t gonna two time, Franklin nods his head, “Yes sir! This stays between me and y’all and the Lord.”

He gets a disgruntled comment under Drayton’s breath that he doesn’t even hear, “Shit, you’re jus’ like your uncle, boy.”

His faith been tested today, but he oughta lean into it while he can. Keep himself from goin’ completely off the edge. Somehow the Sawyers seem to have managed that much, though, like Drayton said, they’ve got each other. God is so far away, nothin’ at all like a sibling he can hate or hold in his arms, depending on the day.

God severs the spine of a little baby and leaves him to die with prayers and prayers from his family that never quite reached him. Little babies grow up into boys in wheelchairs, who can’t even eat a handful of sweet berries without his body threatening to give up on him. Grow into killers, given the right support. Ain’t gotta let himself lose now.

Drayton seems to hear all that thinkin’ somehow, some twisted way of his, and goes back on his word on the truck drive. He waves Franklin away, “Go on and get. Nubbins’ll get ya back home. Tell ‘em I needed your help handin’ me tools down the station and lost track of time. They’ll believe that.”

A test of will or an alibi, he ain’t quite sure, but he nods his head. Just one thing he’s worried about, “If they don’t?”

“You tell me. We’ll do what needs done.” Drayton says it like it’s simple, and clenches one hand, bringing it up in the air and then back down. Franklin realizes he’s miming stabbing someone or beatin’ ‘em with a hammer.

“Um… Thank you Mr. Drayton. For not killing me too.” They both flinch when Nubbins finally slams the door open so hard it clatters against the wall, earning him a quick slap before they can continue on their way. “Um. Goodnight, sir.”

Halfway down the trail, Nubbins glances back at the shrinking house light.

“You scared of big brother, a-ain’t ya?”

“A little.” Franklin confesses.

Makes him a little sad when Nubbins whispers, “Me t-too..”

It’s them two that’re bonded. Theres bad on both sides, from a rotten temperament to a lack of care, to stuck up Sally and mean old Drayton. His home is with his best friend, in his heart, just as Sawyer as any of the others. That’s his comfort for a long time, knowing he’s capable, got backup when he needs it, and a dead body under his belt. Ain’t no invalid.

[ukrfeminism]

Gathered around a wooden table in an unremarkable local council room in east London, ten men are sat side by side. They span a range of ages, ethnicities and social backgrounds; some are in sportswear while some are in smart work gear, like they’ve just left the office. But there’s one thing they all have in common — they have carried out domestic abuse. And they are here to try and change their behaviour. 

“Domestic abuse is a choice,” Mark*, the course leader tells them, as the two-hour session begins. “Not one in the thousands of men I have worked with are possessed by demons or aliens. If you can choose to be bad, you can choose to be good.”

This week’s session of the Spotlight Programme — one of several across the country aimed at stopping people inflicting violence and abuse on their partners — is looking at the repercussions domestic abuse has on children. Eight of the men have, at one time, been under a bail condition which prevented them from contacting their children. 

Mark, who has worked with dozens of male prisoners who have killed their partners and counselled many perpetrators in the wider community, is here to encourage the men to reflect on the consequences of their actions. As he puts it, the abusers’ choice of behaviour has denied their children access to their father.

“When you are abusing your child’s mum, you are abusing your child,” he tells the group, as he hits play on a video. “Does anyone want their sons to grow up and be sitting with me? Does anyone want their daughters to grow up and be abused?”

He then asks the men to say how they would feel if it was their mum experiencing domestic abuse. “I’d be mad, angry, I’d want revenge,” one man says. Another says he would feel upset. The list goes on.

The men who come to these sessions have carried out a range of abuse, from physical violence to psychological abuse, coercive control, financial abuse, and sexual violence, Mark tells The Independent after the session. 

But a common thread is the way they downplay violence and abuse, as well as dodging responsibility and deflecting blame. “When they first join the program, most of them are of the view that, yes, I did do dot dot but it’s because she did X, Y, Z,” he adds.

Examples of the abuse involve men blocking partners from contacting their families, raping partners and strangling them. He also tells the story of a man who regularly denied his partner her medication when she was desperately ill. 

“From how she dresses, who she sees, where she goes, who she talks to, to having to be home at 7pm every night — these are all very controlling behaviours and we come across them every single day,” he said.

The Spotlight Programme was launched in 2020, with referrals coming from the police and children’s services. Some 677 individuals have been referred between the scheme starting and April of this year.

Data supplied by the local council shows 92 per cent who completed the programme saw a decrease in police contact involving domestic abuse. Eight per cent of participants have dropped out of the programme and five per cent have been suspended.

A study, carried out by Durham and London Metropolitan universities back in 2015, found far fewer women reported being physically attacked after their partner went to a programme, with 61 per cent beforehand in comparison to two per cent afterwards.

But Mark also warns that not all men who join the Spotlight Programme are suitable. On some occasions, the more light that is shone on a perpetrator’s behaviour, the more they proactively perpetrate that abuse.

One man was taken off the programme due to frequently laughing at abuse in the group sessions. He also admitted to laughing at the thought of his wife’s face when he was raping her.

Despite this, Mark is adamant his scheme has the ability to change an abuser’s behaviour if they acknowledge there is a problem and they are committed to changing it.

In his view, it is ultimately a man’s belief system which means he thinks he has the right to control and dictate his partner’s life choices. “We help them to understand that: look, you don’t always have to like your partner’s choices’,” he adds. “But there are alternative ways to respond other than abuse and violence.”

But funding issues mean schemes like Spotlight — which is accredited by domestic abuse charity Respect — are at risk of being discontinued. Although they are funded from a variety of places, including local authorities and police and crime commissioners, the programmes have been hit by reduced funding from the Home Office and the Ministry of Justice.

Jas Athwal, a local councillor in Redbridge, said Spotlight’s government funding came to an end in March this year as he explained they “desperately need” the money to continue. They are currently using local council money to pay for the scheme. “This is one of those things you can’t walk away from because this is going to have a real impact on a child’s life, on a victim’s life, on a family’s life.”

Mark’s course in Redbridge is one of just three accredited courses left in London, while there are 35 such schemes across the UK. But Caroline Bernard, a spokesperson for Respect, told The Independent the removal of funding has lead to a reduction in risk management or feedback and resulted in Respect telling schemes for perpetrators not to take on these cases as it is dangerous to do so.

Ms Bernard warned the slashing of funding has meant “the entire system has broken down” and that there are a “high number” of perpetrators who cannot access the schemes. 

“Ultimately, the lack of access to these programmes is putting the safety of domestic abuse survivors, and their children, at risk,” she said. 

The world’s first perpetrator programme took place in Deluth in Minnesota in the US in 1980, with other programmes modelling themselves on the scheme since then, Ippo Panteloudakis, head of services at Respect, said. The first perpetrator programme was launched in the UK in 1989. 

But perpetrator programmes are not free from controversy and many who work in the domestic abuse sector are sceptical of the schemes.

“We think they have a role to play but we are cautious about them,” Ellie Butt, of domestic abuse charity Refuge, says. “The evidence base is limited. There is evidence for some people they reduce some of the abuse. While we think that has a role, we don’t want to send a message to survivors that they should have to tolerate any abuse or slightly less severe abuse.”

She also warned perpetrators are “adept at manipulating systems and manipulating professionals and continuing abuse” as she noted many abuse multiple victims.

“They are not a solution in and of themselves. We still need a much better criminal justice response than we have and better services for survivors. They are not a silver bullet,” she said. 

For Paul*, a 36-year-old painter and decorator who lives in London, the Spotlight Programme helped change his behaviour towards his partner. He was arrested and investigated for perpetrating coercive control. 

“I’d become very overprotective of her... I had become smothering,” he said. “I was constantly monitoring where she was and wanting to know when she would be home. I would bombard her with text messages and phone calls. It wasn’t verbal abuse, it was more ‘where are you? Have you left me?’”

But Paul, who has three children with his partner, states his “whole attitude to everything has changed” since taking part in the programme in August last year.

“It has changed my life,” he adds. “I don’t jump in feet first - I judge the situation slowly and calmly. She has noticed a change in me. She has a bit more trust in me now. I leave her to live her life in peace now.”

A Ministry of Justice spokesperson said: “The safety of children who have experienced domestic abuse is vital and we are currently reviewing the role of interventions in the private family court. 

“This includes working with experts, including in the domestic abuse sector, to consider what interventions the family court can most effectively provide in these cases.”

*Names have been changed to protect identities

[pissoff-youbitch]

I'm sorry, it seems like I'm gonna have to take this topic up myself. (spoilers ahead for both seasons also TW the series I talk about has violence, domestic or otherwise, etc)

Ginny & Georgia is a series that is breaking me because I can see all the reasons for Georgia's actions and as Simone says.. humanize them. Because that's her like... way of caring. She was only taught survival. so that's all she knows and the type of people she attracted in her life mostly proved her right.

Like she did make the wrong decision in running away from in-laws who wanted to help but she WAS 15 YEARS OLD. She even admitted it was a dumb decision later on. But that was her way of caring for her kid she didn't know any better.

We learn she didn't mean to kill that Green dude, she was trying to frug him just to get away.

Her sister was relying too heavily on her when she also had a small baby.

Zion didn't try to step away from his parents to help her either which made her think she keeps having to leave him. Which again, she was young and dumb and so was HE!

When Gil hit her... and abused her physically by hitting her she wanted to get away which I think is a normal thing. I am only halfway through episode 9 s2 but let me tell you if that relationship with Gil went on until after Austin was born... years of that sort of abuse is normal to drive you to send your hubby in prison. And her last one... from the undertone I understand he did what her father did too. Which is just sad.

Everything she does she does to protect the ones she loves. Perhaps her leaving and not being with Zion was in her own way protecting his freedom to pursue his dream.

She killed Cynthia's husband because to her she became a friend and therefore someone she wants to protect and not see in pain. So she took the logical thing TO HER and did that.

It pains me because she's protecting people in a fucked up way that hurts others too but at the same time she does it because she doesn't want to see her loved ones in pain because she wants nobody she cares for to experience pain because SHE KNOWS VERY WELL what pain really is.

This series kills me inside. I wish I could give Georgia a hug. And LOTS of therapy.

[camaradarulitos]

ROME—Few would argue how Valérie Bacot rationalized pulling the trigger that sent a fatal bullet into the back of her stepfather-turned-husband Daniel Polette's neck on March 13, 2016. She had earlier unsuccessfully tried to poison him with a sleeping pill, and she said she knew he was grooming their 14-year-old daughter for serial rape. She was tired of years of abuse and being pimped out to strangers in the family minivan, so she did what she thought she had to do.

“I took the gun,” she said in an emotional interview with Le Parisien ahead of her June 21 murder trial that could send her to prison for life. “There was a loud noise, the flash, the smell. I got out of the car, opened the door, he fell. I thought only of saving myself because I was sure he was going to kill me.”

Bacot then told her oldest children—who she says were borne of rape—that she had killed the monster they called their father. They admitted they helped bury his body in a forest. All the while, she packed dirt on the hastily dug grave—she said she worried he would come back to life. “The only thing I thought about was putting dirt on it,” she said. “Because I was afraid he would come out and kill us.”

The 40-year-old and two of her children were arrested in October 2017 when Polette's body was found after the mother of her son’s girlfriend, who had been involved in the hasty burial, turned her in. Since that time, more than 400,000 people have signed a petition to ask Emmanuel Macron for a presidential pardon that could save Bacot, though opponents say presidents have no place in the court of law. Interest in her case has galvanized those fighting against domestic violence, not just in France, but across Europe where, on average, one woman is killed every three days by an angry partner. A television interview in France ahead of her trial garnered 4.5 million viewers, and her horrific memoir Tout le monde savait or Everyone Knew is a national bestseller in France.

Bacot’s lawyers told The Daily Beast that they are “withdrawing from the media” in the weeks leading up to the trial to focus on her defense, saying, “We will neither give interviews nor make any statements during the several weeks to come.”

The case harkens back to Jacqueline Sauvage, another French woman who fatally shot her husband after years of abuse against her and her children. Sauvage won a presidential pardon after being sentenced to 10 years in prison for murder. Bacot’s supporters believe her case merits the same consideration, though in both cases, the women were failed by a system that did not protect them from years of documented abuse. In Bacot’s case, her children went to police more than once to try to help their mother, but police turned them away because they were minors.

“Even though she committed murder by killing her torturer, and taking into account the 25 years of suffering she suffered and endured in general indifference, it is her freedom that we ask for,” a spokesperson for the support group sponsoring the petition says.

Polette, a truck driver, married Bacot’s mother in 1992, and started grooming her immediately, insisting he put body lotion on her prepubescent body and on watching her bathe, according to her memoir. She says he then began raping her when she turned 12, after her first period. Bacot reported the rape to authorities through a teacher at her school and Polette was sentenced to four years in prison for raping his stepdaughter. All the while, her mother made her visit the man who raped her in prison. When he got out, he moved back in with Bacot’s mother and the abuse started once more. “Every night after school he would say ‘you go upstairs’ to me,” she said in the interview. “I knew what that meant.”

When she became pregnant at 17 with the first of four children he would father with his stepdaughter, her mother sent her off to live with the ogre. “My mother helped me pack my boxes,” she said. “At first I thought my mother didn’t know, but over time I realized she did, but never did anything.”

Several years into the relationship, they married. Then things got worse. Bacot says Polette had always physically abused and emotionally tortured her, but then he started threatening to kill her and the children with a gun, at times pulling the trigger as he pointed what she did not know was an unloaded gun at her head. “You’re lucky, it’s not today,” he would say. “There is nothing in it, but next time I will not miss.”

Then when money got tight, Bacot says Polette started to pimp her out of the family Peugeot minivan, speaking to her in an earpiece and threatening her the whole time not to ask the men who paid for sex for help.

Even that, she says, she could have tolerated. But shortly before she killed him, she said he asked their 14-year-old daughter how she was sexually. She knew exactly what would happen next. At that point, she knew she had to stop him.

Bacot knows she could spend the rest of her life in prison, but says it is better than the rest of her life with him. “I deserve to go to jail, a very long time, that’s normal. But this trial is not only mine but that of ‘the other,’” she told Le Parisien, referring to Polette. “I hope that I can be stronger than him and for once in my life win against him.”

Bacot’s story mirrors that of countless women who are prisoners in violent relationships, having been groomed to believe they cannot leave. “I have lived my whole life believing that I deserved it,” Bacot writes in her book. “That it was because of me.”

[bonky-n-steeb]

𝐵𝑅𝐸𝐴𝑇𝐻𝐸

𝙿𝙰𝚁𝚃 𝚃𝙷𝚁𝙴𝙴

𝘿𝘼𝙍𝙆!𝘽𝙐𝘾𝙆𝙔 𝘽𝘼𝙍𝙉𝙀𝙎 𝙭 𝙍𝙀𝘼𝘿𝙀𝙍 | 𝙈𝙊𝘽!𝙎𝙏𝙀𝙑𝙀 𝙍𝙊𝙂𝙀𝙍𝙎 𝙓 𝙍𝙀𝘼𝘿𝙀𝙍

𝗦𝗨𝗠𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗬:  Your life is as good as it gets. The perfect husband, the perfect daughter, the perfect job. But what you are unaware is that your husband is a deadly assassin and your long-lost friend, now a fearsome mob boss is hell bent on getting you back. But what you don’t know can't hurt you, right?

𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦:  psychological disorder, PTSD, domestic abuse, yandere, obsession, violence, cursing. If you find any of this triggering please DNI. Also inform me if I left something out.

ᴛʜɪs ɪs ɴᴏᴛ ʙᴇᴛᴀ ʀᴇᴀᴅ, sᴏ ᴀʟʟ ᴍɪsᴛᴀᴋᴇs ᴀʀᴇ ᴍʏ ᴏᴡɴ

My previous account was deleted so I’ll be posting the stories again. I’ll be changing this one, so yeah.

Inform me if y’all wanna be tagged!

As the Winter Soldier entered the house, his instincts kicked in. The house was too quiet for his liking. He kept the bags on the sofa and started climbing up the stairs towards your bedroom. Oh, how much he loved you. You had never left his side, not when he lost his arm, not when the guilt became too much to live with and he cried his eyes out near you while you said sweet nothings into his ears. He wanted to keep you by side always, he wasn’t ever letting you go. Soon he was going to ask you to leave your job and stay at home looking after him and Iris.  

He couldn’t stand to see the tired look in your eyes, how you managed everything, your job, your kid, the house and most importantly him. In the beginning he was afraid you wouldn’t love him, that you would only love Bucky, but you loved him just as much; though you were unaware that he existed in Bucky. Bucky was an idiot to let you roam free and be away from him, especially when the world is filled with cruel people. He was a fool to let you be friends with Thor or any man in general. You were only his and Bucky’s. He was Bucky only, but he was much stronger and capable than Bucky. He was the one who would protect you, not Bucky. The Soldat loved you much more than Bucky ever could.  

As he opened the door, he noticed you were in the bathroom. As he entered inside, for a second even he was shocked. You were sitting with your legs folded and staring wide eyed at his computer. He noticed you were watching his files and videos and you were so dumbstruck that you didn’t even notice him standing at the door.  

But seeing you watch him do the deed sent a weird wave of pride through him. He wasn’t ever going to tell you any of this, after all it was highly confidential and your life could have been jeopardized. But seeing you now, watching his skilled work with awe, made his chest swell with pride. He deserved to get his work appreciated by his wife; after all, he had put sweat and blood in it, and you weren't even aware, but not anymore. What he failed to notice was that it wasn’t awe on your face, it was unadulterated fear.  

He could clearly see as your eyes filled with tears and you pressed a hand on your face. He knew you were scared, but he would tell you not to be. For you, there was nothing to be afraid of him. As you started to puke, he went and held your hair in one hand while with the other he quietly shushed you. The last thing he wanted was to see you suffer. He wanted to protect you, keep you safe from the world, not hurt you.  

After you emptied your stomach, you slouched besides the toilet and huffed loudly. The tears from your eyes weren't stopping. “Peeking in other people’s stuff ain’t a good habit, doll.” he said calmly as he folded his hands while leaning against the door frame.  

Your eyes widened when you realized that it was Bucky shushing you all this while. But why would he do that, now that you had found his secret. Maybe he was being merciful before killing you. Wait, he was going to kill you!!! You had seen top secret information and there was no going back. You averted your gaze from him as you stared at the laptop. Another video of Bucky’s murders running on it.  

You couldn't exactly make out what the video was as your eyes were filled with unshed tears. “He had a big ass fence and four huge dogs guarding the house. But well, all dogs can be lured by treats.” he said shrugging as if he was talking about your neighbors' dogs and not of the person he had killed. And you realized he regretted nothing; he was talking about murdering people with pride rather than guilt.  

“Make it quick.” your voice was barely audible as pathetic sobs escaped your eyes. The Winter Soldier titled his head in confusion, “And what made you think that I’m going to kill you?” you looked up at him with even more fear. “I wasn’t supposed to see all this. And I’ve seen enough movies and read enough books to know what happens when you see stuff you aren't supposed to.” you shivered violently at the thought.  

The Soldier chuckled dryly “You are right, if they know that you’ve seen all this, then they wouldn’t bat an eyelid in executing you. But... who is going to tell them? Not me for sure. I just need one promise, you aren't ever going to tell this to anyone, no matter what, no matter whose life is at stake. You are going to pretend you never saw any of this. Delete all this from your brain right now!” he ordered.

His commanding voice sent shivers down your spine, “I promise, I promise not to tell anyone....... I'm sorry, please.” you had no idea for what you were apologizing or pleading for. “It's okay.” he said with a faint smile as he picked you up gently and you wondered whether it was the same man capable of killing people in the blink of an eye. As you quietly sat on the bed, you dared not look at him; he on the other hand was lovingly staring at you.

You wanted to tell him to give up this job and start anew, but you knew this wasn't the right timing. “Don't worry, I’ll keep you safe. You don’t have to do anything. Just sign your resignation and I'll turn it in. You'll be safe in this house. You don't even have to ever leave it. The hospital doesn’t even pay you enough for your handwork.”

You looked at Bucky with shock and betrayal, you absolutely adored your work. You wouldn’t ever give up being a surgeon and saving lives. You had spent years trying to reach where you were today, and you loved doing what you did. How could Bucky ever say something like that. He was always so supportive but well, he wasn’t the same Bucky he once was.

“You wouldn’t ever meet any other man. Doll, you don't know how this world is, there are lunatics, murderers and all kinds of bad people. But I’ve vowed to keep you safe and I will. Just don’t, just don’t stop loving me.��  

“You are joking right? You don’t mean that... do you?” You asked unsure of his words. “Why would I joke about this?” Your heart beat so loudly that you knew he heard it. To keep you inside your house like a prisoner, had he lost his mind? You enjoyed your freedom more than anything. And at that exact moment you realized that Bucky had utterly and completely lost his sanity.

“You can’t do that! I love my job and I’m not resigning anytime soon. I have friends for Christ’s sake. I have a goddamn life James! What the hell do you mean I won’t see any other men?” You lost your cool. Enough was enough. He couldn’t control your life; you wouldn’t let him.

You took a deep breath; you didn’t want him to misinterpret your next words and ignore you. “James, I believe it should be the other way around. I think it’s time you drop being a hit man. It’s not safe...” at your words he tilted his head and squinted his eyes. But still you continued, “It’s clearly dangerous. The things you’re doing, they could jeopardize all our lives, you, me, Iris. And the way you kill...” you cleared your throat and shook your head.

“It’s not safe for your mental health too. Look Buck, you think I don’t know, but I know you secretly cry at night. You feel guilty, so just stop now. We’ll work it through before it’s too late.” You said while rubbing his arm.

“Think about Rissie, she misses her dad so much when you are gone. Maybe take a job where you won’t have to leave and you can be with her so much more. Also... the lives that you’ve... umm.... they are taking a toll on you. You are not present with us anymore Buck, you stare off and don’t give a shit as to what we say. And it’s not just me that notices. You get irritated so quickly, it’s difficult Bucky. But it can all change if you want, Buck.”

Soldat’s talented ears ignored every word you said and only paid attention to the fact that you care about him so much. He doubted that you would get hysterical knowing what he did, but instead you were worried for him. You were ready to forgive him. He was the luckiest bastard.  

You saw his love-struck expression and you knew he wants listening to you. “Bucky...!!??? Listen to what I’m saying! Leave that goddamn job!” You lost your cool and yelled at him.

“Do you know why I took that job? They gave me a chance! They gave me my arm back. I would’ve hated being a burden to you and now look, I’m capable to taking care of you. You don’t understand, I can’t leave that job. They gave birth to me.” Your heart ached at his words.

“Bucky, nothing matters if I’m gonna lose you...!!! You are all that matters. And working for Hydra hasn’t fixed you; it had broken you even more. I miss my Bucky. Please, ple....”

At your words, the Winter Soldier snapped his head towards you, “What did you say? Huh, you miss who?” You narrowed your eyes and you couldn’t quite get the meaning of his words. “What? I said I missed Buck, you were so sweet not controlling, I just...” you stopped talking seeing the deadly expression on his face.

“That idiot Bucky is not going to save you! It’s me! I’m the one who will keep you safe. I love you so much more than Bucky ever has. Don’t you understand. Bucky is weak and he is not coming back.” You winced at his cruel words.

“James, you are the Soldat right now? You.... you need help.” You stuttered. At your words Soldat lost his cool, couldn’t you understand and accept his love for you. He raised his flesh arm and slapped you across the face. What was in Bucky that wasn’t in him. He was right, you only loved him as you thought it was Bucky; you didn’t love the Soldat. But he was Bucky, too right?

“Bucky!!!” You held your stinging cheek. You might have tolerated his words but how dare he hit you? You weren’t the one going to sit back and take his shit. In the heat of the moment, you slapped him back. “How dare you?” you screamed at him. He just closed his eyes and took a deep breath; he knew he had messed up big time. The Soldat was scared of one thing: your anger and resentment in him. He hated when he upset you.

“James enough is enough. I’ve had too much of your shit! All I try to do is support you and care for you. I literally handle this house, a job, I look after Rissie, and I take care of you like you are a child. Not once have I ever complaint.

James, I love you so much, but it’s so taxing! Love is not supposed hurt; it’s not supposed to be one sided. I try everything I can to help you. But you? You just don’t care! All you do is come up with stupider excuses. Keeping me home? Making me leave my job? What the fuck is wrong with you?” You shook your head and pinched your nose.

“Look James, I can’t do this anymore. I think we should take a break. We both need to breathe. We need to take a look at things from a different perspective....” before you could continue, he snapped.

On moment you were trying to talk some sense into him and the next you were pinned to the wall with his metal arm squeezing the life out of you. Your eyes widened and you desperately tried to breathe, but he had blocked your windpipe. “Jame...” you couldn’t even continue your sentence.

The Soldat was furious. How could you? How could you suggest that he leave you? You didn’t need a break, you needed him. Only him. And he was going to prove it to you. He wouldn’t let you leave. You started banging your hands on his arm but it was of no use. His eyes were dead, like in the videos. And that scared you more.

Finally, your arms gave out and you were on the verge of passing out. Yet that didn’t stop him, he was a madman with a point to prove. But then a small blood vessel burst open in your left cheek. And when Bucky noticed that, he came back to his senses.

He quickly left his grip and ran back, bumping into the bed. You sagged back down the wall, wheezing. For minutes or for hours you couldn’t tell, you both didn’t dare move. You were shivering and sobbing. And he was contemplating everything, how could he?

He wasn’t the Winter Soldier right now, he was Bucky. Why did the Soldat had to ruin everything? He was fine till it was limited to killing, but ruining his marriage. What could he ever possibly do to make up to you?

Bucky was the first one to speak up, “I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry. I... that wasn’t me; or maybe that was. I don’t know. I’m so confused. You were right, I shouldn’t have joined Hydra. I... I don’t know what to say, what to do.... ,,.... please say something, don’t stay quiet. Please.!” He pleaded with tears in his eyes.

“Tell me, tell me what shall I say so that you wouldn’t snap.” Your voice was hoarse and it was hurting to even say one sentence. “You are right, we should give each other space.” His heart broke to million pieces, but he knew it was right. The Soldat could come back any moment and he was too unstable to stay with you and Rissie.

“I’ll... uhmm.. I’ll leave. I can come here for an hour everyday till...” he suggested. “Please, please don’t. You are too scary. Think about Iris. Just go to Rachel, you’ve denied it for too long and look at us. If she says you are stable enough, come back anytime. But... not before.” Rachel was your friend and an excellent psychiatrist. “Oh, okay. Forgive me please. I’m sorry...”

“Leave please!” You quietly observed as he picked up his duffel bag, which was packed all the time for emergency, and left the room. You got up and followed him, all while thinking of the beautiful moments you shared with Bucky. “Goodbye.” He said and you nodded as he left the house in his car.

“Umm, are you okay? I was worried, I don’t mean to pry. I just heard some commotion.” Sam said as he entered your front yard. Sam was neighbor and a dear friend. He had moved in soon after you had. But you had known each other much before that. He used to frequently visit your hospital with one reason or another. You guessed he had a thing for one of the nurses but he never agreed. He was a light hearted person and you enjoyed his company.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I appreciate your concern.” you tried your best to smile. His eyes quickly went to the bruises on your neck. “You don’t have to be formal, tell me. We are friends. Are you fine? Do you need something.” You couldn’t stop your tears at his concern.

“I’m not fine, but I don’t want to talk about it right now.” You said wiping the tears off. “If you need me, anytime, I’m just one call away.” He gave you a warm smile. “Thanks Sam. I’m so glad you are my friend.”

“You are hell bent on giving me diabetes with your sweet words, lady. Take care of yourself. I’ll be right next door.” He said as he saw you walk into the house.

He quickly exited your house and removed his phone from his pajama. He had to make a call.

☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎

You were in your own thoughts. Bucky hadn’t once called you or showed up in the past six days. You had expected him to come back the next day or at least call.

As you walked back home from the hospital, you didn’t notice the huge Greek god of a man walk straight into you. “I’m sorry.” You said out of instinct without looking up.

You stopped right in your tracts when you heard a familiar yet much affirmative voice calling your name. You turned around and stared right into his eyes. He had changed, become much much bigger and stronger than before. But his eyes, they were the same.

“Steve?!” you asked with sudden excitement. He gave you a radiant smile which instantly improved your day.

Lost in the joy of meeting your long-lost friend, you were both unaware of the pair of eyes keenly observing your every move.

[hotchnerxo]

Our Past Life: Chapter 16

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader

Story Summary: You and Hotchner go way back, but haven’t seen each other in years. Until he finds you inside of his office one day, out of the blue. The old flame is to spark again, but the world keeps on pushing the two of you apart. Can it keep you apart, this time for good?

Words: 2.1k

Warnings: Swearing, angst. Case talk and CM case related violence.

Chapter 16.

David pushes the interrogation room door open, JJ follows him closely. They both take a seat at the table, their backs towards a big mirror. On the other end of the table, there’s a man, who looks like he’s gone through a lot. A big burn mark replaced one of his eyebrows and scars from cuts –some older, some rather new– littered his aged skin.

The man studies the agents carefully. Especially the blonde woman, who fits his ‘type’ perfectly. The look in his eyes almost makes her feel ill, but she covers it well and tries to push past that. She’s able to keep a straight face and stare back at him.

David spreads out pictures on the table, one by one. “We heard you were offered a deal. So start talking. But keep in mind, if we catch you on a lie, the deal’s off” he demands, the first picture being of a young woman, only 23 years old. She’s been missing for four months “Where is she?” he asks.

The confidence in the Unsub’s tone was alarming as he started to speak. “You never forget your first” he brags, running almost soothingly with his finger on top of the picture. He couldn’t fully reach it with his hands cuffed, but it was better than nothing. “Monongahela National Forest, crossing between 227 and 233”. He admires the picture a bit longer before Agent Jareau rips the photo out of his reach. “She was a fighter. Surprisingly strong for such a petite girl” he turned to look back at Jennifer with a grin on his face she wouldn’t be able to forget in a while.

“Him?” David shows him another photo of a man in his thirties. His ginger hair was neatly combed in his license photo and his face almost expressionless.

The man went to explain where he buried his body, being in a national forest somewhere in west-Virginia. This goes on for a couple of more photos of women and men. The answers were quick and the pleasure he takes from these memories are clear as day. It was very helpful for the case, but not for the same one these agents were more focused on.

Rossi looks at the man in front of him, trying to keep his straight face. Don’t show emotion, act as if all these murders were nothing, as if he sees these all day –which he does, but it never gets easier. Reading the unsub’s, Harold Field’s record it all makes sense how he’s ended up in here. Years of domestic abuse before the teenage years, quickly found himself in the world of alcohol and drugs. Petty thefts and vandalism, narcotics possession and the list goes on. After being released from prison, he’d gone down the same path, only to find himself now at the interrogation room inside the FBI. He’d been the driver and in the middle of everything.

“What about him?” Rossi asks, his tone exactly the same as before. But this time, he pulls up a photo of his team’s leader. It’s his regular license photo, just like the ones before. It’s a couple of years old, but the man hasn’t changed much. Even his dark hair was almost exactly the same length as it was on Sunday.

It was clear that it threw the man off his game. Confusion was written all over: his body language changed drastically from relaxed to tense and the furrow on his brow was more intense. His hand squeezed shut without him noticing, but the agents are trained to pick up on these small ques.

“Was he a friend of yours?” he suddenly asks mockingly. Neither of the agents say anything, just look at him and wait for him to go on. “Was he your sweetheart?” Harold coos at Jennifer but only receives an ice cold stare back.”I killed him. He’s at the bottom of the Potomac. Didn’t even fight. Was kinda sad actually”.

Agent Jareau is first to stand up, Rossi just seconds behind her. “Actually, Harold. You never hurt him. You’ve never even met him” she speaks calmly as she stands by the open door.

“Wait, where are you going? I’m not done! I killed him. Cut ‘im up real good” the man loses his temper and tries to jump after the agents, but is quickly reminded of the cuffs on his hands. They pull him back down towards the table.

“No, you didn't,” she continues. Her heart felt a little more at ease as she spoke “you never hurt any of them. You couldn’t do it, you were just the driver. Agent Rossi also warned you of lying. The deal is off” She walks out and closes the door behind her. The agents can still hear the man screaming on the other side, telling them to come back and listen to him.

Both of them find their way back to the round table with one conclusion: they’re back at square one. The group of mad men in custody have nothing to do with Aaron’s disappearance. In a way it is reassuring. After reading the case files and the horrendous things they’ve done to their victims – the ones that have been found– their friend would have been dead days ago. But now there were even more unanswered questions, nothing else to go on with. The relief didn’t last long.

~

You’d been sitting at Aaron’s desk for a while now, hugging your knees to your chest. It was somewhat comforting, squeezing yourself, hugging yourself. But the emptiness refuses to go away. An emptiness that would only be filled with Aaron’s arms around you, him comforting you, telling you that he’s alright.

You didn’t know how to help, so you thought it would be easier for the team to work without you being there as a burden or on the way of their thinking. Plus all the case talk is overwhelming and scary to listen to when the only place you’ve heard it in before is crime-drama shows. Without having you there, they can talk about this ‘case’ as if it was any other case and without having to guard your feelings.

Why does the world keep pushing you away from him? You’d just gotten him back, after all these years. What if this time it is final? What if you won't see him ever again?

“(Y/N)?” A knock on the door was followed by a soft voice. It interrupts your spiraling thoughts. As always, great timing Penelope. “I wanted to come and check on you. How are you holding up?” she walks beside you, leaning to the dark oak desk. You’re not sure how to answer, so you just remain quiet. “You should have seen Aaron’s face back when I told him that you’re here, waiting for him” she smiles softly, looking towards the glass doors she had shared the news at. “I swear he forgot to breathe there for a second”.

The thought of it makes you smile. “It took me forever to come and see him. I was so nervous” your voice comes closer to a whisper even if you smile at the memory. And how nervous you were sitting at his office, waiting for him. Nervous of his reaction and if he’d be willing to talk with you. “But I missed him and to me he’s always been ‘the one that got away’” you explain and the blonde nods in understanding. “I tried dating here and there, but once you’ve been with a man like Aaron Hotchner, there’s no going back. So, I thought I’d just focus on my career and try to move forward. But as Charlie and the crew started to talk about moving to New York, it felt like a new chance”.

“It’s so clear that you make him happy. And he, if someone, deserves all the happiness and kindness in the world. Seeing the two of you on Sunday, there was no doubt about it. He’s absolutely smitten by you” Penelope’s smile is so bright, it eases your mind for a moment.

But the absence of him fills your mind just seconds later. You agree with her, he deserves everything good in the world. Yet, he’s nowhere to be found and most likely hurt.

“Rossi and JJ are back in a moment, would you like to join us? Hear what they came up with?” She asks after a moment of silence. At first, you don’t think it’s a good idea. But you agree to go with her as you’d like to know as soon as possible if there’s any new information to get you closer to finding him.

But once you re-enter the conference room, you find out that nothing new has been found out. The group of criminals –or ‘UnSubs’ as the team likes to call them– are not behind this mess. So now they’re back with nothing. You’re not sure how to feel about all of this information coming your way. Nothing really surprises you at this point yet everything is too much at the same time.

Penelope is behind her laptop, looking at its screen intensely. “I got access” she informs the team in a moment but her hands stop. She’s no longer typing anything nor moving the mouse “Sir Hotchner’s phone records”. Garcia searches for a command from the team, feeling like she’s invading too much of her friend’s personal space if she moves on.

“We have to” Emily reassures her, knowing the fear behind the analyst’s eyes. “It’s for his safe return”.

“This feels so… ugh” she tries to word it, but nothing seems to even begin to cover how gross the feeling under her skin is as she proceeds to open the information. It doesn’t take her longer than a few seconds to open up the two texts and blow them up onto the big screen.

Their blood is a threat, a warning, a promise. We are not the same, and will never be

If you could, what would you do to make sure your past doesn’t repeat itself?

“The first one is a quote from a book Red Queen by the author Victoria Aveyard” Reid is quick to start analyzing the texts. “It's a fantasy novel about a war between red blooded aka ‘normal people’ and a kingdom of silver blooded royals. The quote is from the first chapter of the book where the main character goes to an arena to see a battle between these two breeds and that quote is meant to the red blooded people as a reminder” he explains and as fascinating as that sounds, you’re more interested by how he just happens to know that. Did he just read that book? Why does he remember that specific detail as if it’s something everyone knows?

But as you come to think of it, the name Red Queen does sound familiar, but you’re not sure where you’ve heard of that book. Maybe you’ve come across it somewhere, but can’t quite put your finger on where right now.

“I don’t think that second one is a direct quote from any book, though” the youngest one thinks out loud but falls quiet after that. But you can basically hear the speed of his brain, thinking.

“Is it then personal? About Hotch’s past? About Foyet?” Jennifer continues by asking. She’s leaning on her forearms on top of the table, her body reminding her of what a long day it’s been for all. “But who would know about that? Isn’t that information really closely protected?” Both Rossi and Garcia nod.

“When was the first message sent?” you ask and go to take a seat next to Penelope around the table.

“Almost two months ago. On the 20th at 8:40Pm”

“On the 20th?” you ask to make sure you’ve heard correctly. The team looks at you as the date clearly rings a bell to you. “I saw Aaron that day. You guys had just returned from a case and we ended up having dinner at my hotel. It was just days after I had come to see him here”.

“Could it be about that? Could you be ‘the past’ repeating itself? Wasn’t it a long time between you two seeing each other?” Spencer speaks again and your heart sinks. Is this about you? Is he in danger because of you?

Taglist: @ssahotchsbitch @mayasreadingnook @rousethemouse @averyhotchner @ssamorganhotchner @kajjaka @reidsbookmark @thenewnormalforensicator @wheelsupkels @thedancingnerdmermaid @agirlinherhead @tonystarkscumslutz @haley-h0tchner @ashhotchner @itsmytimetoodream @marvel-mars @witchybitch2 @mintphoenix (let me know if you want to be included)

[word-scribbless]

Different

I know I have requests to write but this one has been sitting in my drafts and I wanted to finally post it!

Masterlist

Summary: When Hollis man tries to throw a wrench in things Gibbs reminisces about what makes Y/N so different.

TW: mentions of miscarriage, family death and domestic violence

Italics are flashbacks

————————-

Hollis Mann had come to help NCIS on a case of a missing Army luitenent and a missing marine gunnery Sargent. Y/N was also at NCIS from the FBI, helping profile suspects. This made for an interesting situation for Gibbs. Hollis his ex and Y/N his current girlfriend. It wasn’t uncommon for Y/N to work cases with Gibbs’ team, but she had yet to work one that envolved an ex. A streak he wasn’t too thrilled to have end.

Things were pretty civil, y/n knew he dated someone from Army CID, but didn’t remember her name right away. when Y/N arrived the team was in the squad room, working at their desks, she came and sat in Gibbs chair, asking what they had. When noone warned her of the impending doom of that decision , Hollis knew this woman and Gibbs were dating. She couldn’t help but be jealous. This jealousy only multiplied when she saw y/n kiss Gibbs cheek later that day when she thought no one was looking.

With the way Mann was acting, and a few comments from Tony, Y/N quickly put two and two together and realized that Hollis was THAT lieutenant colonel. Y/N was nothing but nice, not petty and jealous the way Hollis felt. Gibbs wasn’t nervous for their relationship, things were good with him and Y/N. He just wasn’t sure how Hollis would act. He knew y/N could handle herself though, so there wasn’t much to worry about.

Overall, things went pretty smoothly, that is until Hollis ‘let something slip’ about Shannon and Kelly, and clearly made a big deal out of ‘apologizing’ and assuming y/n didn’t know.

Gibbs was pissed because he could tell her intentions were to hurt Y/N. She was hurt when she found out during a cause, so she must have thought she could do the same to his current girlfriend. Gibbs wanted to tell her off, not because she messed up his relationship, or hurt Y/N, but because it was her intention to.

Y/N caught up with Jethto when he stormed out of the room after DiNozzo quickly changed the subject back to the case.

“Relax baby.” She said as she caught him by the steps, using the nickname she knew he secretly loved.

“She did that to hurt you.” He seethed, and Y/N slyly took his hand on the side where the team couldn’t see.

“But I’m not hurt.” She assured him. “You’re a catch J, I’m sure it’s not easy to get over you.”

“You think so?” He smirked at her, and she felt the tension leave his body.

“Mhm, but I really don’t plan on finding out anytime soon.” She smiled and settled for running her thumb over his fingers since she couldn’t kiss him and he squeezed her hand in understanding.

“Good to know.” He smirked. ”now get back to profiling and I’ll check in with Abby.

“Yes sir” she smiled and looked around before kissed his cheek quickly and heading back to the bull pen.

On the way down to abby’s lab he begins to think about the beginning of their relationship and how he and Y/N came to be.

Y/N and Gibbs had Worked together a few times, they had made a habit of going to get dinner after cases wrapped.

It felt like they were on the same page feelings wise but she was never sure. One night she got up her courage to bring it up.

“Gibbs,”

“Hmm”

“Are we on a date?”

He Smirked at her and took her hand

“Was kinda hoping you’d catch on.”

“Could of just asked” she smiled back. He rolled his eyes playfully and asked

“Y/N will you go on a date with me?”

“Sure how’s right now?” She giggled.

Before he could get to the lab Hollis caught him and pulled him into a near by conference room.

“I didn’t mean to mess things up by telling Y/N about Shannon and Kelly.” He could tell she was trying really hard to mean it, but wouldn’t truly be wracked with guilt if she had messed things up.

“She already knew Holl.” He admitted, trying to remember what y/n said about not being angry with her.

“You told her?” She questions surprised.

He sighed and nodded. This was not a conversation he wanted to have today.

“What’s so different about her?” She asked,

“Hollis.” He responded.

He could never answer that question simply. Truthfully, everything was different about her. She was just Y/N, his Y/N.

“I’m sorry, I guess I just never thought someone would crack you.” She smiled.

“Yeah well.” He smiled back, thinking of Y/N.

She would say she didn’t crack him, she just speaks Gibbs, or something silly like that. She never wanted him to feel like she was changing him.

“You love her” she said shocked.

“Hollis” he warned again.

“Have you told her?”

“She knows” he grunted.

“Yeah but have you told her.”

“Hollis”

“Tell her Gibbs” she said and he was thinking of a comeback when there was a knock on the door. Y/N poked her head in the room.

“Hey, I’m sorry to interrupt, but the director needs you in MTAC Gibbs” He didn’t know how she knew where they were, but god was he glad she did.

In the elevator Gibbs thought about why it’s so easy to trust and love Y/N. He thought back to the first time he told her about Shannon and kelly.

A few dates in she sensed he was struggling with something. It had been the anniversary of Shannon and Kelly’s deaths.

“J, I know you hate talking about things but,” she said carefully after dinner at his house.

“If you want to be my girlfriend then you are.” He grunted back taking her hand, assuming that’s where she was going.

“Oh!” She was shocked and had no idea what to say.

“You don’t want to be?”

“No, I do! I absolutely do” she corrected. “but that isn’t what I was going to bring up.”

“Oh then go on.” He chuckled.

“No we can talk about it another time, so I’m your girlfriend?” She smiled.

“Yup”

“Cool!”

“Cool?” He teased.

“Yeah cool!”

Gibbs chuckled and put an arm around her. “so what did you want to know?.”

“Another time-“ she started but was cut off by Gibbs.

“If it’s on your mind I wanna know”

“I-“

“Y/N” He insisted

“I’m a profiler”

“I know this” he said sarcastically.

“Right so I pick up on things and I pick up on things easiest when I have experienced the same type of thing.” She said and sighed at his raised eyebrow.

“English?”

She huffed a nervous laugh and continued.

“Okay I’ll just say it. I can tell you’ve suffered a big loss, probably family, a wife or a child. I know you probably don’t want to talk about it because you’ve been forthcoming about your ex wives and not ever about a loss so it’s clearly something personal.” She stopped and squeezed his hand. “And I hate talking about my loss, I also hate talking about my ex husband so you’re better at this communication thing than me.”

Gibbs scoffed “no one has ever told me that before.”

She smiled. “I just want you to know that however you process, however you grieve, I don’t want to change that. I just want you to know that I’m happy to be a part of it, lean on me like I want to lean on you. I won’t pry, or expect you to be over it, but if you loved them then they’re important to me.” She sighed again. “It just, felt wrong kind of knowing with out telling you. I know I don’t really know, just profiled but still.”

“My wife and daughter, they were killed. My wife saw a member of a drug cartel murder a man and was going to testify. Her protective detail was shot in the head while driving them and the crash killed them.” She breathed out and Gibbs winced waiting for the inevitable‘I’m sorry’ that he never knew what to do with but it never came. She just held his hand and nodded.

“I never tell anyone. They died, I shouldn’t dwell on it. But all my marriages failed because I wanted it back and I couldn’t let them go.”

She shook her head and nuzzled closer to him

“As much as we want to ignore it and hope the pain goes away, we still love them. That doesn’t mean we can’t love someone new, but that old love doesn’t just go away. I’d like to know more about them if you ever feel like sharing them with someone, but you don’t have to.”

He nodded and squeezed her hand then looked at her expectatntly. She noticed the tears in the corner of his eyes and was sure hers looked similar.

“My turn?”

Gibbs nodded.

“Ryan, my first husband. Killed on deployment a year into our marriage. I miscarried from the stress a few months later.” Gibbs pulled her closer into him wrapping his arms around her.

“He’d like you, you’re strong and protective, and you challenge me. He always said I needed someone challenging around to keep me honest.” She chuckled. “I- I didn’t want to date for the longest time after he died.. All my friends said I needed to move on, get out there again after a few years but I wasn’t ready so I picked people that would never work, people that were the exact opposite of him, of what I deserved. Then I married one of them. He ended up in jail, I ended up in the hospital.” Gibbs soft face turned to anger.

“Relax, he was killed in a prison fight 5 years ago.”

“Good” he said and she felt his body relax a bit.

“I stopped dating after that, until I met you.”

Gibbs smiled.

“The truth is, if you want to be in my life, Ryan’s part of it. Just like Shannon and Kelly are part of yours, and mine if you let me stick around. Which I’d like to”

He nodded And she readied herself for goodbye.

“Have any pictures?”

“Of Ryan?”

He nodded and she smiled.

“Yeah in my wallet, that mean you want me to stick around?

He nodded and she went to get her bag. She pulled out a picture and began to tell him about their first date, their lives, and why she thought Ryan would be happy that she was spending time with jethro.

Gibbs smiled and told her he’d be right back.

He returned with a box and pulled out an old scrap book that’s only ever seen the light of day when he’s particularly missing his family. He never thought he’d show someone else. But he also never thought he’d meet someone like Y/N.

“What’s this? She asked as he handed it to her.

“This is my turn.”

“Jethro.” She said as she opened it and realized it was pictures of Shannon and Kelly. She closed it again”we don’t have to.”

“I want to. They’d love you.”

She smiled and patted the spot next to her.

Back in the conference room, Y/N lingered with Hollis, knowing she needed to face her head on.

“He didn’t tell you about rule 6?” Hollis asked, still a bit of chill to her voice. Looking like she wasn’t quite ready to give up the hurt feeling just yet.

“He did, but I have rules of my own.” Y/N smiled trying to ease the tension.

“Is one of them not listening to his rules?”

She chuckled.

“Exactly.” She laughed “No I agree with some of them, but not the ones that go against the rules of being a civil human. It’s charming on him somehow... but it’s not a good look for me.”

She joked and eased a bit when Hollis smiled.

“Does that mean you’ll accept my apology?”

“I would, but there is no need for it.”

“There is, the way I acted was petty and uncalled for.” Hollis sighed, causing Y/N to nod.

“Maybe, but I understand.”

“Ugh why do you have to be likable?”

Y/N laughed with Hollis and relaxed a little. “Sorry, do you want me to say something mean? Or at least like scowl a little?”

“It would make me feel a little less guilty.” She smiled, but y/n could see the honesty in her eyes.

“Don’t feel guilty. I’m not running, I’m not upset. He’s a tough nut to crack. I get it. I didn’t know that he and you had history until your reaction, if I’d known I would have been more discreet, I never meant to rub your face in anything.” Y/N assured her

“You didn’t know?”

“Well I’d heard your name, you know tony.” The both huffed laughs “but jethro is, well you know.”

“That doesn’t upset you?” Hollis wondered

“Not really, I mean I’m a profiler so I have a leg up but he’ll tell me things when he’s ready.”

“You’re much more patient than me.”

“Not always, I just, I know what it’s like to lose someone and not know how to let them go.”

“Ah that’s how you’re different.”

“I’d like to think there’s other things he sees in me, but yes that’s a big difference.” She nodded.

“Hey, Y/N/N need your help. Hollis, DiNozzo has a statement to go over with you.”

They both nodded and followed Gibbs into the hall.

Gibbs pointed Hollis to the conference room where tony was.

“Hey come here” he led y/n to the elevator and paused it.

“Jethro what’s wrong?”

He grabbed her face and kissed her.

“There is way more I see in you.” He whispered against her lips.

“You heard me?”

“I did”

“Spy” she joked with a smile as she pulled him back in.

“You were too nice to her.” He grunted.

“I couldn’t be mean. I’d be bitter if I lost a man like you.”

“Mmm cause I’m such a good kisser?”

“Mhm among other things.”

“Yeah, I’m good at that too.”

“You’re a lot more than just good in bed Jethro.” Y/N said softly. “Not that you’re not excellent at that too.”

Gibbs laughed and kissed her head then looked seriously at Y/N.

“You know I care about you right?” Gibbs asked almost shyly. Y/N froze at his tone, she’d never heard him sound so insecure.

“Of course I do.” She cupped his face.

“Y/N love is a hard word for me-“

“Jethro, you don’t need to say it, I know how you feel. You show me every single day.” Y/N moved his face to look in her eyes.

“You deserve to hear it Y/N.” He huffed.

“What I deserve is to be loved and love. I think I have that Jethro.”

“You do.” He whispered and pulled her lips to his. “You do.”

“Good, now that that’s settled. Let’s go close this case huh?” He smiled at her words.

“Y/N” he said pulling her back from the switch. “I love you.” He said with confidence but she could tell it took everything he had to say it out loud.

She smiled as turned around, wrapping him in a hug. She hid her face against him. “I know you do baby. I love you too, So much!.”

He pulled her face up and looked into her eyes. all she could see was love as he leaned in to kiss her. She forgot where they were as he wrapped his arms around her and dipped his tongue in her mouth. He slowly pulled away and kissed her head.

“Okay, you ready now?”

“To go home? Yes.” She whispered, voice shakey from the kiss.

He smirked his classic Gibbs smirk and shook his head “to solve the case.”

“Oh that, yeah okay.” She said with a smile that he couldn’t help but love.

He knew she was it for him right then and there. He’d known for a while but never truly admitted it to himself. Yes he sucked at marriage and she didn’t have a great experience either. No matter what though, he knew she was it for him. He had only truly loved Shannon and Kelly before he met her, but he knew that both of them would have loved Y/N as much as he did and been proud of him for falling in love again.

@mac99martin @kittenlittle24 @viper-official @ilovemark1951 @theofficialzivadavid @averyhotchner @andreasworlsboring101 @diesinspanishbcimhispanic

[my-emotional-self]

Toxic Love Chapter 16

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader, Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes

Summary: Finding out your soulmates were Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes was one thing. But when someone from your past comes back to haunt you, you have to figure out if a relationship with two super soldiers is something you really want to pursue or if you’d rather go back to your comfortable single life.

Series Warnings: 18+, Swearing, Angst, Fluff, past mentions of rape, self-harm, attempted rape, domestic violence, stalking, death threats, possible Dark!Steve?, Steve will be an asshole a LOT in this series but I don’t know how dark it will get, explicit sexual content, mental health issues, kind of A/B/O dynamics but not really (no they are not actual wolves, more like the hierarchy), mentions of suicide, flashbacks of suicide, nightmares, panic attacks

A/N: There will be no taglist for this story! I apologize in advance!

“Do you have your taser?” Steve and Bucky said collectively as you gathered your purse in your arms and slipped on your shoes.

“Oh my god,” you giggled your response. “Yes, I do.”

It was the day after your surprise birthday party and since you were now going to be heading to St. Lucia tomorrow, you realized you didn’t have much clothing for any kind of tropical place. Darcy had quickly agreed to go shopping with you and that’s why you were leaving the tower.

In the last month you barely left the tower. Not that you felt imprisoned at all. No. It was that you were comfortable. Now that everything was out in the open with Steve and Bucky, you didn’t feel the need to leave the tower much. The last time you left was for your appointment with Dr. Wang and both Steve and Bucky took you there.

They were the ones who normally liked to go with you out of the tower, but since they would be on vacation with you for a whole week, they needed to get some last minute things done for any upcoming missions. So, it would be you and Darcy and you were really excited to spend some time with her.

“Be safe and be good,” Steve said as he gave you a chaste kiss to your lips. You smiled at him, nodding your head.

“I don’t want to get a call that you are in jail,” Bucky joked as he kissed you next.

“It’s only going to be me and Darcy going shopping and out to brunch,” you replied, folding your arms in front of your chest.

“That’s what we’re worried about,” came Steve’s smart ass remark.

~~~

“How many swimsuits do you own?” Darcy asked as the two of you walked down the sidewalk where all the good shopping was. Clint had dropped you two off seeing as neither Steve nor Bucky wanted you two walking that far and you had agreed to stay within a certain radius of where the shopping and dining was. Especially after they found out that John or John’s friends had been sending you threatening letters and messages. But what you didn’t know, was that the bracelet that Steve and Bucky got you for your birthday, also had a tracker in it. They planned on telling you while on vacation, but it brought them a piece of mind and set them at ease while you weren’t with them.

“Umm, I honestly don’t think I even own one,” you remarked.

“Shut the front door. How do you not even own one swimsuit?”

You gave her a shrug. “I don’t know. I guess I just didn’t really have any time or anywhere to go swimming recently. Before meeting Steve and Bucky, I never really got out to do much at all.”

Darcy linked her arm with yours and smiled at you. “Well, I’m glad I’ve met you because now I get some more girl time. With Nat being away on missions more often than Clint, I get stuck with him a lot.”

“Oh come on. You love him and you know it,” you teased back.

She sighed, “I do. I really do. But he is obsessed with going into the vents at the tower and he always wants me to go. He doesn’t realize that I have boobs and a butt that most certainly won’t fit in those vents.”

The two broke out into laughter and you loved how easy it was being around your friend. You didn’t have many friends growing up. With your parents mental health issues, you didn’t want to bring anyone over to the house and when you were invited over for a sleep over or to hang out somewhere else, you always said no because you felt like you had to keep an eye on your parents.

“Oooh, get this one!” Darcy put the slinkiest red bikini in your hands and your eyes grew wide at how little fabric there was.

“Darcy, there is literally nothing to this bikini,” you whispered to her, heat flooding your cheeks at the thought of wearing something like this at the beach.

“That’s the point! You’re on vacation with two of the hottest men in the world whom, by the way, you have wrapped around your finger. And plus, Tony’s place has its own private beach meaning no one else but you three get access to it,” Darcy spoke as she continued to look at more bathing suits. She did have a good point, but you would still feel utterly exposed in something like this. “And we’ll just get you a few more suits for when you want to go to the public beaches.”

“How many suits do you think I should get?”

“Uhh, at least seven. You’re going to be there for a whole week so you need to have one for each day.”

While you had more than enough money in your bank account, you realized Darcy had a major shopping problem and she was to help you drain it dry. At least she offered to buy you lunch today.

The two of you shopped for a few more hours. The sun was shining high in the sky and it felt so good to get fresh air and spend some girl time with Darcy. She helped you pick out a bunch of new clothes including some light weight dresses as she thought all your clothing was too dark and heavy for some place tropical, swim suit cover ups and her personal favorite, lingerie. You didn’t own anything more than a few matching pairs of bras and underwear and they weren’t even lace. Darcy was an expert at lingerie, stating both Natasha and Clint loved seeing her in it.

While you had spent a bit more than you wanted to, you knew it was for something good. Spending an entire week with your two soulmates on a tropical island for a vacation sounded heavenly and you couldn’t wait for it to be tomorrow already. Never in your life had you gone on vacation, let alone a vacation that is fully paid for.

After lunch, the two of you went to Target to pick up some last minute essentials and a few travel sized items. Darcy explained that Tony would have everything covered at the beach house but you just wanted to be on the safe side.

Once done, Darcy called Clint to pick you two up and you headed back to the tower. Your feet were killing you, even though you wore your comfiest pair of shoes. It was a long day on your feet and you couldn’t wait to get this vacation started.

“Honey I’m home,” you sand as the elevator doors opened to your apartment.

Neither Steve nor Bucky were in the living room or kitchen as you walked into the apartment. There was however a note sitting on the kitchen counter for you.

Y/N,

We hope you had fun shopping with Darcy today and we can’t wait to spend the next week with you in paradise. We had a few errands of our own to run and will be back in time for dinner.

Xoxo

Steve and Bucky

While they could have easily sent you a text telling you they would be out for a little bit, you couldn’t help but smile at how old fashioned they were. Honestly, you loved the notes they had left around the apartment for you to find. Sometimes on your pillow when you woke up, or a sticky note attached to your mirror in the bathroom. It was little sentiments like that, that made your heart swell with pride knowing they were all yours.

With your numerous bags in hand, you headed to your bedroom so you can begin packing for your week in paradise.

Dumping your purse and bags on your large bed, you went into the closet and you pulled out the suitcase that Darcy lent you. Hauling the suitcase onto your bed with a grunt, you opened it and admired just how much space there was in the suitcase. At least you didn’t have to pay extra for the large suitcase since you were taking Tony’s private jet.

Just thing, your phone alerted you to a text message. Rummaging it out of your purse, you turned your phone on. The smile instantly wiped from your face. Your blood running cold as you started at the words.

I’ll be seeing you soon babe. I can’t wait to get my hands on your precious body. –J

Your heart began to race. It was getting harder to breathe.

“Miss Y/N,” F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s voice echoed faintly in the room. Your vision started to get blurry and you didn’t know if that was from the tears or if you were having a panic attack. “I am calling Captain Rogers right now.”

Your knees buckled from under you as you reached onto the bed to somewhat break your fall. This couldn’t be happening. How did he get your number? He knew where you used to live, but you had changed your number and made sure to not give it out to anyone. How could he possibly have gotten your phone number? Your breathing was ragged and you were beginning to gasp for air. If he had your phone number, that meant he was closer than ever to you. Closer to finding you. But he was still in prison, he was still locked up. Right?

“Sweetheart,” Steve’s voice came over the speakers. “What’s going on? F.R.I.D.A.Y said your heartbeat is skyrocketing.”

“He-he, John,” you couldn’t get the words out as you were gasping for air.

“Breathe doll,” now it was Bucky’s voice you were hearing. “Just breathe. We are in the elevator right now coming to you but you have to breathe.”

You tried. Fuck did you try to breathe but it was so hard. It felt like someone was squeezing your chest. It hurt. You hurt. Your vision began to go dark as you faintly heard your name being called over and over again.

Slumping down on the ground, you thought this was it. This was how you were going to die. Alone. Terrified. This isn’t how you wanted to die. You wanted to die old and wrinkly with Steve and Bucky by your side, not like this.

Before you could full go unconscious, you felt yourself being picked up in strong arms. Your vision slowly coming back and you realized you were on your bed, sitting down with your back against something hard and firm, yet soft at the same time.

“Y/N? Sweetheart can you hear me?” Steve’s worried voice consumed your mind as you slowly began to blink, seeing him kneeling in front of you on the bed. It was then that you realized you were laying against Bucky, his metal arm around your front and holding your chest tightly to him. “Good girl. There’s our girl. Now I need you to breathe. Feel Bucky breathing behind you. Match his breathing sweet girl.”

You took a few gasping breaths and you could feel Bucky’s heartbeat against your back. Doing as best you could, you could begin to feel your heartbeat starting to regulate. Reaching up, you placed your hand over Bucky’s metal arm, wanting to keep anchored to him.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y, what happened?” Steve’s voice was calm and collected now as he watched you start to finally relax, eyes closed.

“It appears Miss Y/N had a massive panic attack,” the A.I responded.

You could hear Steve take a deep sigh and you opened your eyes, finding his blue orbs staring back at you. “What brought this one sweetheart?”

Instantly your chin began to quiver. “Wh-where’s my pho-phone?” you choked out?

Steve looked around the floor for your phone as you Bucky kept you anchored to him. You felt as if you were to move from your position you would fall apart.

Once Steve found your phone, he handed it to you. You didn’t want to look at it. You couldn’t. Instead, you shook your head and with the saddest voice, you told him to open it.

He looked between you and Bucky and then down to your phone in his hand. You didn’t have a password on it so Steve pressed the button on the side to light your phone up. He didn’t even need to swipe to open. He saw the text. It was right there, staring back at him. Steve’s hand gripped your phone so tight you were honestly shocked he didn’t break the phone in half.

[erin-hollow]

Since I’ve seen Let There Be Carnage already and many people here haven’t, someone told me to write what I thought of it. This will be mostly spoiler-free.

First of all, content warning for the movie: 

physical abuse, verbal abuse (domestic) and some mentions of abuse (parental and domestic), 

a spider, a chicken, and several humans are killed on screen,

violence, blood, and eating people typical of the first movie, 

loud noises, 

flashing, 

something that could be seen as a suicide attempt, 

needles (but no hospitals), 

prisons, (and someone getting locked up just for being different)

kidnapping,

domestic fights,

guns, 

major eye horror, 

something that might trigger emetophobia,

A police officer shoots a black woman (and he’s present throughout the movie)

People (mostly gay men) getting possessed and their minds being taken over without their consent

(spoilers for this one) a black woman is mistreated then is killed

If anyone thinks of others I forgot please tell me.

Now for my thoughts on the movie. This is a very biased review because Venom is one of my special interests. I loved so much of this movie. Carnage’s design was terrifying beyond belief, many of the characters were excellent, and all the acting was great. 

The animation looked really cool. There are scenes where it’s almost impossible to believe that Venom’s floaty head isn’t really there. Tom Hardy has the same great performance from the first movie, and does an excellent job being two characters. The light shining off Venom’s body is beautiful, and occasionally Carnage looks real enough to touch. There’s even a short scene where 2D animation is overlaid over everything else, and the artstyle of it is really cute and creepy at the same time. I will say some scenes are a little dark and hard to see, but... look I’m assuming you’ve seen the trailers. You know how the movie looks. I liked it.

Despite what I’ve heard other people say, the humor wasn’t a big part of the movie for me. That’s not to say it was bad, but it didn’t factor into my enjoyment as much as the other things. The critics are right that it broke the mood of some of the scenes, but I didn’t really mind. Venom has a lot of great little one-liners and insults. He’s by far the most comedic character. Eddie and Dan have a few lines each, and Red has one joke. I thought most of it was really funny.

Carnage was so scary and uncanny that it took a lot of willpower for me not to scream in the theater. In full form he’s just a disgusting red version of Venom, but any time Cletus is mostly human but has some Carnage attributes it’s incredibly unsettling. If you’re a fan of horror, you’ll probably enjoy this movie just for that.

One thing I didn’t like was the queercoding aspect. The coding that they did probably counts as queerbaiting, and the metaphor they use is (in my opinion) homophobic. There is no arguing that the movie is very gay, but they way they went about it rubbed me the wrong way. The movie codes Venom being an alien as him being gay, which wouldn’t be that bad except for the fact that the “alien” traits that they focus on are him killing and eating humans (as in, the fact that he’s not allowed to eat people is the same as discrimination against gay people). The metaphor is also very mixed, especially where Eddie is involved. There’s even a scene where a female character successfully seduces the symbiote. I did enjoy the queer coding, but when it was like that I hated it and *in my opinion* I don’t think it’s something we should be thanking the director about. It’s 2021. Do better.

Carnage and Shriek’s relationship was really cool. For one subplot of a short movie, they managed to a lot with it. The writing of it wasn’t perfect, and Cletus sometimes seems a little inconsistent in this aspect of his character. I have no idea how comic-accurate it is, but I got the vibe very easily without reading the comics.

I’m not the biggest action movie guy, but I could watch that fight scene between Venom and Carnage a million times. It’s so interesting, with so many fun little moments. In my opinion it’s a million times better than the scene between Riot and Venom for several reasons. First, it seemed like the setting was made to serve the fight instead of the first movie where they were just stabbing each other on the launchpad. In LTBC, the setting both serves the actual mechanics of the fight and the aesthetics. Second, the characters have a dynamic, even before the fight. In the first movie Drake and Eddie interact maybe twice, and Riot and Venom’s relationship was never specified beyond them knowing each other. I won’t get into it too much, but here there is a very interesting relationship between Eddie and Cletus, and between Venom and Red, which factors into the fight. This might be a small spoiler, but in LTBC it’s not just the symbiotic pairs fighting each other, instead both sides have people to back them up.

Characterization is a hard thing to talk about without spoilers, but I’ll try. I don’t think any characters from the first movie have been taken out of character. Venom’s street smarts are incredibly inconsistent. Cletus isn’t for everyone but I there are definitely people who will enjoy him. One of Red’s motivations is kind of stupid. Shriek isn’t as active as I would have liked, in fact I strongly disliked what they did with her. If you liked Anne, Dan, and Ms. Chen in the first movie, you’ll like them here.

Overall, I did thoroughly enjoy the movie. It was well worth what I paid for the tickets and I assure you, if you liked the first movie you’ll like this one. Happy watching :)

The end credits scene. This is a SPOILER ALERT, but you’re probably gonna hear about it anyway. I’m still putting it under the cut.

They got teleported to the MCU for some reason that will probably be explained in the next MCU movie. Opinions will vary on this but for me personally I’m pissed off! They left all their friends behind in their own universe, sacrificed one of the things that makes this series so unique (Venom without Spiderman) and broke the MCU’s rules about no multiverses! And for what? to boost ratings? Because The Mouse wanted my favorite gay slimeball? Are they gonna put him on Disney+? Jail for Disney! Jail for Disney for 1000 years!

[fictionalabyss]

Protector : Surprise?

Pairing : Dean x Reader, Sam, Alex (oc), Azazel, Detective Baker (oc), Ash, Brady (mentioned), Abby (oc) (mentioned)

Word count :   2,795

Warnings : Prison  (mentioned), interviews/interrogations, pregnancy complications due to stress, bedrest, fear, panic, house fire, guns, violence, physical abuse, threats, murder, death . Series TW : Domestic Abuse is a constant topic- be it mentioned, or actually happening.

Continuation of this series was commissioned by : @iflostreturntosteverogers

Final part of Protector.

Masterlist • Patreon • Ko-fi.

Weeks passed, and everything was being dragged back up. New statements, new interviews. Alex was pulled in again, but this time he had both you and Brady with him and he was treated with respect. No asshole like Baker trying to stonewall him into some kind of a confession. “We just want to be sure this statement is correct, given everything that Baker’s done. Just a formality, I promise.”

New detectives and new experts poured over every detail of Dean’s arrest and the so-called case Baker was trying to build around the idea of Dean murdering your first husband.

You were brought back in the room yourself, asked why Baker had it out for Dean, why he was so sure Dean had killed your first husband. You were honest with that fact that you had no idea but you were scared. Baker scared you. Then you opened your phone, went to a picture and slid it across the table.

“When was this?”

“Yesterday morning. Around 11. I went out to check the mail and there he was.” It had scared you to find Baker parked outside, eyes boring into you. You had kept your eyes locked on his as you brought up your phone, snapped a picture and then called Brady. “I’d like to file a police report of continued harassment despite a restraining order. This isn’t good for my pregnancy. My doctor is worried.” You then slipped them a note from your doctor about the stress.

“Can I get a copy of this picture?”

“Of course.” They handed you your phone back and you were given an email to send the photo to.

Days turned to weeks as interviews continued, evidence was questioned and each and every lie Baker told was revealed. The stress of it all had gotten to be too much, your doctor putting you on temporary bedrest. All information about the case went through Sam, and you only heard bits and pieces of the good stuff, only things that would give you hope.

You saw Azazel a few times since that day in the grocery store. You’d walked out of your last doctors appointment to find him in the waiting room, eyes on you as you hurried past, Sam's hand on your lower back to keep you calm. Dean got a picture of that, too.

But since then, nothing. No Azazel, no Baker. Sam said Baker was under surveillance, and Azazel was now being hunted for betraying the patch. Apparently, someone had dropped a video of the arrest at the garage on their doorstep and they finally listened to what Dean had been telling them. One of their top guys was working the other side. And word was getting around fast.

It was another quiet day. Alex was at school, Abby was napping and you were relaxing in bed with a book while Sam headed out on a quick errand. Something about needing to pick something up for dinner, but he’d be back by the time Abby woke up. He promised. You hadn’t minded. Sam had been stuck to you like glue for so long now you relished the time alone. Finally.

The words started to blur, your eyelids getting heavy. Letting the book fall from your hand, you rolled onto your side, pulling the pillow close and letting yourself drift off to sleep.

A piercing sound snapped you awake and panic instantly set in. A fire alarm. Your fire alarm. It sounded like it was coming from downstairs. Getting up, you rushed down and followed the sound to the kitchen. You expected to find Sam cooking but instead found your stove on fire.

You were confused, how could that have happened, no one else seemed to be home and unless you slept walked down and then back to bed, it hadn't been you. You ran to yank open the cupboard under the kitchen sink and pulled out the fire extinguisher, working as fast as you could to get the fire put out.

As the flames died, you noticed something on your stove. A hand towel. It was mostly burned, some blackened shreds all that remained. You looked around the kitchen, looking for anything else out of place but found nothing. Brutus was barking wildly at the back door, desperate to get inside as his claws scratched against the glass every time he jumped against it. You had forgotten he’d been let out before you laid down.

You sighed with relief despite the uncertainty. You were just glad it was out, that no one was hurt. But before you could relax, let alone let Brutus back in, another smoke detector started going off. This time, upstairs.

“Abby!” Running as fast as you could back for the front stairs, you almost fell when he stepped out in front of you, blocking you off from the stairs and the front door. “Move.” You threatened, fire extinguisher clutched tight in your hands. He didn’t move, didn’t say a word, just gave you that cold dead stare he seemed to always be giving you. Your eyes shot to the stairs, this time a click of his tongue grabbed your attention over the sounding alarm and Abby’s cries.

“Don’t even think about it.”

Screaming, you went to take a swing at him with the fire extinguisher, but he far too easily knocked it from your hands. Then he swung, the back of his hand hitting your cheek hard. So hard in fact, that you fell to the floor, eyes wide with shock and fear.

“Why are you doing this to me? I didn’t do anything to you.. Please.. Please, just let me get to my daughter. Let me get her out. You want me, you can have me, please.. Just let me save her.”  He just stepped closer, no answer, no change in his face at all. You tried to get up anyways, and he just hit you again. “WHY!?” you screamed at him as tears ran down your cheeks.

You were scared, you were terrified, it was that day all over again in your head, but just like that day you had a child to protect. You could hear Abby’s screams and it was killing you that you couldn’t get her, protect her.

“Because Dean Winchester deserves it.”

“FUCK YOU!”  A boot came up in a kick, and you twisted yourself enough that the side of your ribs took the brunt of it instead of your stomach, but it didn’t stop you from crying out in pain.

Then he was leaning over you. “I’m going to make you hurt. I’m going to make it hurt so fucking bad you can’t move.” he smiled at you. “Then I’m going to watch your house burn down around you. Watch as that son of yours finds you. Then kill him too.” You shifted, ready to try fighting back, take a swing, anything, but he grabbed your face by the cheeks in one hand and put a gun to your head which effectively stopped any and all plans.  “Then I’m going to wait. I don’t care how long it fucking takes, I’m going to wait. I want to see the look on his fucking face when he comes home to nothing. Because that piece of shit husband of yours took everything from me.”

Your eyes shot to the stairs again, Abby’s screams louder than anything to your ears, and he pushed the gun harder against your temple bringing your attention back to him. His gaze locked on yours.

Suddenly his face changed, and there was a blur of someone running past and up the stairs. Sam. You’d know that giant frame in a plaid button up anywhere. He was going for Abby, he was going to save her. Nothing else mattered.

Until you looked up and behind the man who still held a gun to your head. You couldn’t stop the tears that welled up all over again. “Let go of my fucking wife.” he growled out, a gun of his own in his hand and pressing into Azazel's skull.

“You’re going to have to kill m-”

You flinched as the shot rang out and blood splattered onto your face. You sat there stunned for a moment, not sure he was real as the body hit the floor. “Dean?”

“Surprise?” he gave you a half smirk.

“Dean!” you got up as fast as you could, throwing yourself against him not caring about the blood. You clung to him and cried.

“It's okay, baby. I’m home.” His arms wrapped around you almost just as tight. “You know I wouldn’t let anything hurt you.”

Then Sam down the stairs, Abby in his arms. “Here.” he told you. “Take her outside. Your bed’s on fire.” Your eyes shot to Dean.

“I’m not going anywhere, baby.” He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead and you grabbed Abby before heading out front.

You stood there, your forehead against hers as you cried. You had been so scared you’d lose her, so scared that you’d be stuck there listening to her die. That that would be what you died with in your head.

“Mom!?” Alex rushed over and you started crying even harder. “What the fuck happened?” He asked, ignoring Ash who hurried past and into the house. “That’s it, I’m out of school, I’m not fucking leaving you again!”

“You’re going to school, end of discussion.”

Alex’s head snapped up towards the voice. “Dean!” he rushed from you to Dean, who smiled and opened his arms. There was a moment of quiet between them before Alex pulled back. “What happened!? Why does mom have blood on her?”

“Better come inside and get cleaned up, baby.” You looked over at Dean, still so afraid. “Fire’s out. You're safe now.”

“Fire!?” Alex shot  a panicked look to you and Abby, then hurried into the house and froze before getting too far. When you walked in, he was looking down at the body on the ground before he looked back up and met your eyes. “What the hell happened, mom?”

“He wanted to kill us. All of us, watch the house burn down around us so Dean would have nothing left to come home to. I thought I’d lose Abby.”

Alex turned to Sam. “I was getting Dean. Judge ruled last night he was to be released. He wanted it to be a surprise. I should have got dad to come stay with you while I was gone, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay.” you tried to reassure him, let him know that you didn’t blame him for this. Your voice probably wasn’t very convincing, at least not right now, not with all the pain and fear you were still processing, but you really didn’t blame Sam. “My protector showed up, right on time.” You looked up at Dean, letting him lean in and kiss you gently.

“Always, baby. I’ll always do everything in my power to keep you safe.” You gave him a small smile. “Now, get that ass up to the showers and then you’re on the couch. You’re supposed to be on bedrest.” Dean gave your ass a slap with a smirk.  “Sammy, get dad on the line, tell him to get his ass over here and not to come alone. I need this mess cleaned. Alex and I are going to head out to get a new bed. Ash, you’re on babysitting duty.”

“Aye, aye, captain.” Ash mock saluted, making Dean roll his eyes.

“Baby, my jacket?”

“Where you left it.”

With another sweet and tender kiss, Dean headed upstairs and back into his bedroom. He ignored the blackened and burned bed at first, reaching into his closet and pulling out leather. It felt good to wear it again, to feel the weight of it and the patches stitched to it. His jaw tightened as he looked at the bed his children had been conceived in, the bed he’d made love to you in countless times, the bed you had been sleeping in just an hour ago. Azazel might be dead, but it didn’t end there.

And Dean had every intention of ending it.

He knew they were coming for him and he knew they’d be coming soon. He had to get away, he had to get out of town, out of the country. He needed to vanish for a while. Anything to stay out of prison. There was no way he’d survive it. Moving the curtain aside, he peeked out of the motel room and at the car he’d bought last night with cash parked directly outside. It was 2pm, and while the streets weren’t empty, everything was pretty quiet outside the Motel.

Perfect.

Baker grabbed his meager belongings, tucked his handgun into the back of his jeans, and rushed out to his car, eyes darting around as he hurried to the trunk and opened it, tossing his bag in. As he slammed the trunk shut, something was placed over his head that plunged him into darkness and he started to panic.

When he came to again, it was dark and he couldn’t move. His hands were tied behind his back, his feet tied together. He tried to get his bearings. He could hear the low rumble of an engine, the vibrations of a car driving down a highway. He knew he was in a trunk, now he just needed to find the tail lights and kick them out. Shifting around to give himself the space was difficult as he realized something else was in there with him, something big that smelt faintly of blood. He grunted when he hit his head and felt a small trickle of blood. “Shit.” he cursed and started kicking, hoping to meet his mark.

Suddenly, everything stopped, everything was quiet. Despite being in the dark under whatever was still over his head, his eyes frantically darted around as he tried to listen for what would come next.

Doors. Two of them, opening and closing, one on each side of the car.  Foot steps, but faint. So he wasn’t on a solid road anymore, and not on gravel either, or a floor or the foot falls would have more sound to them. A field?  Shit shit shit. A field meant open space. Even if he could get away and run, he’d be an easy enough target to shoot down.

The trunk opened, and hands reached in, yanking him out. He tried to fight them, tried to do what he could but he was put on his feet, dragged away from the vehicle and then kicked in the back of the knee forcing him to drop.

The hood was yanked off, and even though it was pitch black outside, he had to blink a few times before he could see where he was. The desert.

“You wanted to know where he was.” Baker’s head shot around and he found himself face to face with Dean Winchester. “You found him.” Dean pointed out into the desert, and Baker followed his finger. “There’s no marker, but he’s out there. He hurt her so I fucking killed him.”

Suddenly, a body was dropped down next to Baker, and he looked over to see Azazel, bullet wound to the head. Glancing up from the body, he saw Sam dusting off his hands. There was only one reason Dean would finally admit what he did. Baker wasn’t making it out of here alive.

“You hurt her.” Dean growled into his ear. “You fucking put my family in danger when I couldn’t protect them. She almost died.” Dean grabbed Baker by the hair and yanked his head back painfully. “MY DAUGHTER almost fucking died. Almost burned to death. Because of you.”

“I didn’t-”

“You did do this, Baker. You told him who they were, you knew what he would do. If I would have come home just an hour later..” Dean shook his head. “You can’t even imagine the level of hell I would have rained down on you.”

“Dean-” Dean straightened back up and put a gun to Baker's head. “Look I didn’t-” He was cut off by the bullet that ripped through his head and his body fell to the ground.

Dean was wiping down Baker’s gun that he’d just shot him with when his phone rang. Pulling it out of his back pocket, he smiled seeing your name light up his screen. “Hey, baby. You should be sleeping.”

“Woke up to pee and you weren’t back yet. Couldn’t get back to sleep. Are you going to be home soon?”

“I’ll be heading back home soon. Just finishing up something. You don’t need to worry, baby. No one’s ever going to hurt you again. Your protector is home. I love you.”

“I love you too, Dean. Be careful.”

“Always am.”

*If you like this, please consider supporting my work*

Tagging :  Protector : @jaycc7983 @volleyballer519  @meganlpie  @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo  @londoncallingbutiwontpickup    @valsworldofcreativity​   @samsgirl93​ @delightfullykrispypeach​

Dean - @akshi8278​  @adoptdontshoppets​   @evyiione​ @karikatz12481​ @idksupernatural​  @deandreamernp​

SPN -  @sandlee44​  @just-another-busy-fangirl​  @mrswhozeewhatsis​   @deanandsamsbitch​  @deans-baby-momma​  @thebescht​ @67-chevy-baby​ @supraveng​   @musiclovinchic93​ @holyfuckloueh​  @ksgeekgirl​   @hobby27​ @maddiepants​  @roxyspearing​ @onethirstyunicorn​    @fandom-princess-forevermore​     @kalesrebellion​   @deanwanddamons​   @thoughts-and-funnies​

All tags - @sorenmarie87 @artemisthebadger @winchesterprincessbride @iflostreturntosteverogers @akfonkin @rebelminxy @foxyjwls007 @onethirstyunicorn @shaelyn102 @supernaturalenchanted​  @kazkingdom​   @babypink224221​  @emoryhemsworth​    @ilovefanfic86​  @pie-with-hunters​   @anaelsbrunette​   @feelmyroarrrr​  @letsdisneythings​   @cdwmtjb8​   @notyourtypicalrose​ @xostephanie​ @ilovedeanspie​ @defenderrosetyler​ @amandamdiehl​

[maybe-your-left]

Window Panes - Forever

We made it! 

Here is the Window Panes Masterlist and my Masterlist for all my other fics. 

Summary: A cool breeze nipped at your exposed legs, causing goosebumps to erupt over your skin. You were curled into your comforter, comfy and safe, your cheek pressed against your pillow. Lips pursed and a small amount of drool seeping into the fabric. A creak came from the corner of your room, slightly rousing you from your slumber. You glanced around, your drooping eyelids barely taking in the scene. In your sleep riddled state, you didn't see him, his large figure stalking towards you. The whites of his eyes shining in the moonlight, it wasn't until you felt a palm slide up your side. Following the natural contours of your body, the warmth emanating from it lulling you to sleep once again. A dip in the mattress, the springs creaking under the weight. 

Hot breath fanned over your neck, soft lips pressing onto the back of your ear. A deep hum filling your senses, you sighed. Cuddling back into the figure, wanting to get closer to the warm entity. A low chuckle sounded behind you, and then... 

Nothing. 

TW/CW: This is dark shit, like explicitly horrible shit happens in this. However, I enjoy reading dark fics, and I super loved Stalker Clyde by @clumsycopy​ & was inspired by the oneshot EOS by @thetorturerwrites and I wanted to write something with the sameish tone for Halloween. NSFW, Violence, Murder, Non-con elements, Domestic Violence, Surgery, Explicit sex, oral sex, anal sex, sex toys, miscarriage, mental manipulation, stockholm syndrome, waterboarding, forced feeding, Animal abuse (just a brief mention, I do not go into any detail). 

“Is it-Are we rolling?” 

“Yeah, we’re rolling.” 

“Okay, great,” a sigh of relief. 

You shifted in your chair, smoothing back your hair and itching the microphone that was attached to your shirt collar. Crossing and recrossing your legs, you should’ve worn pants, a skirt was a stupid idea with these boots. You gave a weak smile to the woman across from you, her white teeth flashing the cameras all around the sound stage. 

“Okay,” she looked into the lens, “We are here tonight with one of the victims of the famous 2020 murder trial from New York. She went through over five years of repeated abuse at the hands of her kidnapper, all while he was out killing people around the city.” She turned to you, nodding her head as a show for you to react to the TV. “It’s so nice to have you here, Miss (Y/N).” 

You cleared your throat, shifting once more, “Thank you, it’s a pleasure to be here.” 

“How are you doing?” 

You bit back a scoff, what a stupid thing to ask. After that introduction, what was she expecting you to say, ‘oh I’m fucking fantastic, I’ve been running since the day he was sent to prison and going through intense psycho-therapy to rid myself of Stockholm syndrome.’. 

“I’m great,” you faked a smile, “Always nice to visit New York again.” 

“I’m sure,” she smiled once more, all you could think about were the wrinkles on her face, the crows feet on the corner of her eyes. She must get botox for working at a news station, there’s no way her skin is on with just natural confidence. 

“When was the last time you visited?” 

You had to stop yourself from blurting out an answer, knowing that this would be on national television. Which you knew federal prisons watched, you wouldn’t want to give away any of your whereabouts since the incident. “Uh-it’s been a few years, I haven’t had much reason to be back. My life has shifted to another part of the world.” 

“That’s fantastic! So you’ve been doing well for yourself the past six years?” 

“Yeah,” you gave a genuine smile, “It’s been tough, no off days really. Trying to gain some normalcy from it all, but I’ve done well. I live relatively fearless, of everything.” 

“We have you here because of a break in your case, as I’m sure you know.” 

You gave a grim nod. 

It’s all anyone wanted to talk about since the story flashed on the news last week. Leaving your once quiet home filled with reporters. You weren’t even home when it happened, out getting groceries, gripping your sons’ hands firmly as you walked the aisles. Letting him pick out some snacks for his lunchbox, like any mother would, when your phone blew up. 

Dozens of messages, calls, articles, you name it. 

All with his face plastered on it. 

Convicted murderer and kidnapper, Kylo Ren, has requested the death penalty. After being found attempting to escape federal prison for the 6th time in the past five years. The convict claims that he ‘would rather die than live another day rotting in his cell’. Dropping all the appeals cases that his lawyers have been pushing since his initial sentencing. 

The former New York state governor was on trial for murderering and disemboweling 9 separate victims and kidnapping an 18-year-old girl. He kept her in his basement as his sex slave for close to 3 years before he married her, the young girl escaping into the streets when she was just 22 years old. Covered from head to toe in gashes, blood, and bruises. Claiming that her husband had beaten her within an inch of her life. 

The subsequent trial lasted three months after his arrest. Leading to him being convicted of first-degree murder, rape, and domestic assault. He was sentenced to life in prison, his then-wife was placed under medical care for an undetermined time. 

Mr. Ren has tried to get his charges appealed since the initial sentencing, claiming that his wife was mentally insane and an unfit witness. Along with other claims that include bribing members of the jury to change their verdicts. The whereabouts of Mr. Ren’s ex-wife is unknown, but he claims that he has kept tabs on her even from ‘the inside’. 

“Your kidnapper is being put on death row, which isn’t allowed in the state of New York. Which means he is being transferred over state lines to another prison. However, it hasn’t been revealed where he is being brought because of people interfering with the swap. How do you feel about that?” 

You chewed your cheek, thinking for a moment. There was no way he did this willingly, Ren was never someone to take the easy way out. The last time you heard from him was three years ago, on your son’s birthday. 

Receiving a call from the prison, the only one you had gotten since the sentencing. 

You remember picking up the phone, throat going dry as you whispered that you accepted the charges. Waiting for the operator to connect you to him, after three long years without his voice. 

“Hello, love.” 

“What,” you whispered, stepping away from the living room of screaming toddlers. Your boyfriend gave you a weird look when your face went white as a ghost. “What do you want, Ren?” 

“How are you? Doing well I hope?” 

You huffed, moving into your kitchen and ripping a bottle of wine out of the fridge. Taking a drink as you snarled, “Just tell me what shitty thing you have to say so I can go back to my family.” 

“Oh, yes. Your family.” he sighed, “And what a sweet family it is… little Luke is how old now? I would think he would be about… three.” 

“How do you know about my son?” 

“Hm.” 

“I don’t think he’s just yours.” 

“You shut your mouth, Luke is not your son. I’m going to hang up if you don’t get to the point.” 

“He’s growing up so well. Hairs getting longer, but I know you like to keep it short. But he complained about his ears last time-so big.” 

You took a deep breath, peaking into the living room. Just in time to see your baby boy, smiling and laughing with his friends. Sitting in your boyfriends’ lap, tearing into presents. His big eyes shone with tears of joy when he ripped through a gift that was his favorite color, red. A squeal so loud it could’ve shattered a window, pulling out a giant plush toy. It was like a penguin-mixed with a little dog, no nose, and some sharp fangs. From one of his favorite TV shows, along with a card and some other little toys. 

“Tell me, love,” he chuckled, “Does he like his present? He sounds over the moon about it through the speaker. What I wouldn’t give to be there to run my fingers through his dark hair, look him in the eyes and tell him how much his father loves him.” 

You made Luke sleep in bed with you that night, holding his small body flush with yours. Running your fingers through his curls as he snored into your chest, small tracks of drool seeping into your nightshirt. Trembling as you stared at the shadows, dancing across the bedroom from the window. Full moon shining, you could’ve sworn the floor was creaking downstairs, the sound of footsteps climbing towards your room rang in your ears. 

You didn’t sleep that night, staring into your son’s face as he woke. Blinking awake to smile as you, his grin reaching across his face. All the way to his ears, large ears, covered by his almost black waves. His long lashes fluttering as he greeted you, “Hi mama.” 

His eyes. 

Fuck. 

One of them your eye color, shining back at you. But the other, it was his. 

Deep auburn, shining in the sunlight. Daring you to challenge him, defy him, prove him wrong, anything that would allow him to unleash whatever hell lived under his skin. Flowed through his blood, tainting every corner of your psyche. His child, the one you hid from the world. Moving as far away as you could, claiming it was your boyfriends’ child. 

But he knew. 

And Luke was starting to notice. 

“I feel,” you looked at your hands, forcing them into fists to stop them from shaking, “Just fine, he’s not in my life anymore. Just a small chapter in the book of my story, I hope that he finds peace. Wherever he goes.” 

“Peace? For a man that almost killed you multiple times?” 

You nodded, “Yeah, I do. I can’t change who he is, or what he’s done. I can just try as hard as I can to move on. And if being on death row will help him find what he’s looking for then I wish him the best of luck.” 

She gave you a weird look, shifting in her seat, “Do you think it says anything about his guilt?” 

“Guilt?” 

“Yes, for the past six years he has never acknowledged that he was guilty. Claiming that the jury and witnesses were bought and that you were mentally unstable-making up half the accusations against him. Do you think that him asking for the death penalty is a way of admitting that he was guilty?” 

“Hell no,” you blurted out, eyes going wide at the camera, “Oh-can I swear? I’m so sorry.” 

She laughed you off, “You’re fine, we can blur it out. But you sound so confident? Do you think he believes that he’s done nothing wrong?” 

Now it was your turn to laugh, “Not to repeat myself but, hell no. That man knows, he’s very conscious of his decisions. Everything has a purpose, everything is done for a reason, Ren doesn’t waste his energy on doing something for no benefit.” 

“What would be the benefit of being put on death row?” 

You sighed, thinking about Ren, trying to get into his mindset to see how he could angle the sentencing changing. Letting out a sharp laugh as you rubbed your eyes, “Well-you said it earlier.” 

She looked at you confused. 

“New York doesn’t have the death penalty.” 

New York doesn’t have the death penalty. 

New York doesn’t have the death penalty. 

New York doesn’t have the death penalty. 

“Oh my god,” you whispered, looking around the room frantically. “Oh my god-oh my god-oh my GOD-New York doesn’t have the death penalty!” you screamed, shooting out of the chair. Grasping the reporter by her shoulders and shaking her violently, “He knew! He knew I was coming here! He’s gonna take him!” 

“Miss (Y/N),” the reporters and security officers yelled. Trying to calm you down, but no, she had said it. 

New York doesn’t have the death penalty. 

You ran from the TV station, hailing a cab on the packed streets. Frantically calling your boyfriend over and over, he was at home. Back in Nevada… where the death penalty is legal, with Luke. He wouldn’t pick up, the dial tone ringing three times before his voice sang through the speaker. 

You wailed in the back of the cab, calling everyone you knew back at home. Asking if they could go get Luke from school, if they had seen him that day. Anything to try prove false the sick feeling in your stomach you knew was true. 

Running through airport security as fast as you could, taking the first flight back home. You prayed on the way that your boyfriend had Luke, safe and sound, back at home. Hopefully, curled in his red blanket, snuggling the stuffed animal he got that faithful birthday. 

Even though no one knew where it came from. 

Luke wouldn’t let you get rid of it. 

Claiming his daddy gave it to him. 

You just let him have it, he was three there was no way he would let you take his toy away once he had held it to his chest. Kissing it with his full lips, dragging it around the house every fucking day. It was his best friend, from the moment he saw it. 

You cried on the plane, realizing too late that the gift was from him. 

His real father. 

Watching after his miracle child. 

When you touched down in Las Vegas, your phone blew up. Your stomach flipping as you read through the messages from your boyfriend, explaining that he let your friend pick Luke up from school. The same friend claimed that your boyfriend had picked him up, Luke’s teacher calling to let you know someone in a black Porsche picked him up. 

Whisking away his child from under your nose. 

You choked on your tears as you read the message from his teacher, telling you how happy Luke was when he left. How he ran into your new boyfriend's arms, like he had known him for his entire life. She told you that he had introduced himself, Ben was just the most amazing father figure she had ever met. Stowing away Luke, surrounded by toys and chocolate when she waved them off. 

After you gathered your luggage you walked towards the cabs out front. Stopping cold in your tracks when you saw a chauffeur holding a sign that said your old name. 

Mrs. Ren. 

You climbed in, body feeling numb. 

Your phone dinged, a picture being sent to you from an unknown number. 

A picture of Luke, held tightly against his real father’s chest. Drifting off to sleep in his strong arms that once choked you to death. 

See you at home love, we miss you. 

-----

I wanted baby luke to say something like ‘my daddy visits me at night’ but it was too on the nose. 

TAGLIST: @finn-ray-nal-beads @millenialcatlady @ohdamnadamm  @daydreamsofren @candycanes19 @caelum-phyriina-vermillon @millenialcatlady @safarigirlsp  @caillea @roanniom @insufferablelust @mrs-zimmerman​ 

[killerhatcanons]

Could u do a childhood friends hc with Trapper, The Shape and Ghostface?? 🥺🥺

Of course my friend! uwu

So we can imagine most of Michael‘s and Trapper‘s childhoods but I don’t think Danny has much of a background lore going as far soo I‘d personally also put him into a difficult household (even though I wish it were different) I also think I’ll put this one into a text form

TW: idek what to tag this with but I’m guessing abuse/domestic violence

The Trapper (Evan MacMillan)

Evan had always in a way idolized his father and his father had never deemed anyone worthy to get close to his son. Needless to say Evan didn’t have many friends at all when he was young. The other children were scared of his father and the stories their parents had told them about the MacMillan family. They were gruesome, as much as a parent would allow their child to hear but enough to ensure they would never want to get close to the MacMillan child.

You had always thought it was unfair. It wasn’t Evan’s fault that his dad was mean and you didn’t want him to sit alone over something he wasn’t responsible for. So you approached him and you kept approaching him even as he tried to push you away. He knew about the stories and he himself knew very well that his father wasn’t the kindest person. Time and time again had his father hit him for not following his orders, had thrown away his sketches and sent him to bed on an empty stomach as a punishment. He understood why others feared his father and he didn’t blame them. Even though he loved his father, he also despised him. He knew no one but him would endure his father’s punishments so when the tiny you approached him he tried his best to push you away. You were far too fragile, you couldn’t get close to him or his father. 

But you didn’t care. No matter how many times he rudely sent you away you always returned. And as time passed he felt himself slowly growing fond of you. You were nice to him, the only person that made him feel warm and he didn’t want you to leave him anymore. He wanted to keep your kindness, to keep the warmth you made him feel through the utter coldness he was accustomed to. So he allowed you to stay if only for a while which soon became longer and longer.

You played together in elementary school and he would protect you from anyone that even attempted to bully you. Or ask you out for that matter. He soon had to realize that he grew more and more possessive of you, that he didn’t want anyone to take you away from him. You had been with him since the beginning, had shown him kindness and understanding, had been there for him and took care of the bruises his father kept giving him. As cheesy as this sounded you had been his sun all along, naturally and selflessly giving him warmth without ever being asked to. His one and only friend.

Shit I might need to turn this into a fiction maybe? haha we’ll see

The Shape (Michael Meyers)

Michael had always been the silent child in your kindergarten group. First everyone thought he was just a little shy but you soon realized that he simply refused to speak. Of course your teacher tried to convince him to talk, even had a meeting with his parents but they assured that he learned speaking, however at one point simply stopped any form of communication. To the adults he was a hopeless case. They tried desparately to change him, but he wouldn’t budge. 

To you he was a welcome friend. You didn’t mind his silence, you knew he was listening to you and you could still play together. Well, it was mostly you telling him what to do with the toys, because he himself wouldn’t do anything besides holding them in his hand, but that wasn’t much of an issue to you. 

Of course you tried to get him to play with your other friends too, but his lack of enthusiasm often got in the way and the other kids got scared of his silent and emotionless behavior. However, even when they told you to, you refused to stop playing with Michael. Yes, he was a little odd, but that didn’t make him a bad child (killing his sister later lowkey did tho oop) so you didn’t want him to be alone. Everyone needs some company, right? 

Over time you noticed, that he would remember what you had told him to do with the toys, instead of simply holding them, to which you would give him a big smile.

This improvement you saw in his behavior made you even sadder when one day he stopped coming to the kindergarten. At first you had thought he was sick, but weeks went on without a single trace of him or his parents.

Upon asking you own they had told you he was sent to another kindergarten instead, that was specialized on children like him. You were sad of course, but you accepted it, hoping he would find more friends to play with now. 

You only later found out he was sent to an asylum instead of another kindergarten.

The Ghostface (Danny Johnson)

Danny Johnson did not have the nicest childhood imaginable. After her divorce his mother didn’t become directly abusive to him, more so the alcohol. 

He liked to think that the slurring woman bruising him wasn’t his mother, that it was simply someone else, someone more aggressive trying to be her. He didn’t want to think his mother hated him, he didn’t want to believe she would bruise him, would shout at him and blame him for what had happened to her marriage. 

Even as a young boy he knew to cover his bruises. He loved his mother, he didn’t want her to be alone even though the woman the alcohol brought out of her hurt him in every way possible. But it was his fault right? His dad didn’t want him so he left him and his mother. He was responsible and the least he thought he could do was let her let out her pain on the person responsible for her misery.

In school he didn’t talk much to anyone. He was a rather shy kid, not wanting to cause anymore trouble for anyone. At lunch he sat alone, but he didn’t mind. He also didn’t mind being called weird or gross for his greasy long hair or the bags under his eyes. Not that he wanted to talk to anyone about himself anyways. Not even to you as you approached him. 

You had watched him sit alone for a long time. He looked sad, restless, sometimes even scared and despite not even knowing him, it hurt you to see anyone in this state. So you went to talk to him. However, it took a while for him to stop avoiding you as best as he could and he eventually opened up to you a bit. He still didn’t tell you about the abuse until you reached middle school, but when he did you were determined to help him, to clear his understanding of him not being responsible for anything and to get him a new home. 

With the help of your parents you were able to get him out of his household and soon find a acquainted family that was willing to take him in. The Olsens tried their best to provide him with everything he needed. And while you knew it would take time for him to heal, you were relieved he was part of a loving family now, that would help him back onto a safe track. 

You couldn’t have known that the damage to Danny’s brain had already been done and there was no way of saving him from the twisted prison of his own mind.

OOK THESE ARE WAY DARKER THAN YOU PROBABLY WANTED BUT I OOP GOT CARRIED AWAY 

I can attempt to make it more wholesome a second time if you want these were just the most logical things that came to my mind haha... honestly idk but I usually think that someone isn’t just yk born a killer (except Michael maybe pfft) so I came up with some uhm logical upbringings to the boys haha yeet..

Anyways I’m considering turning the Evan and Ghosty one into their own separate story thingsies. Kinda hard to do something with Michael bc uhm Psychiatry but possibly something with a reader that’s also in treatment or we pull a Harley Quinn sometime who knows! 

For now I hope you aren’t too mad that this was so... dark instead of cute oop >:)) if you’re mad just let me die on the hook next time pffft

[freddiefkncrane]

name: Alfred “Freddie” Crane age: 48 gender & sexuality: Cis male, heterosexual relationship status: Ask your mother occupation: Co-Founder of Crane Bros LTD neighborhood: Summit Lake

Trigger warnings: domestic violence, drugs, violence, murder, death, crime

Alfred Crane is a menace to society. Always has been, always will be. 

Born on the 14th of July in 1975 to two young parents in East London, “Freddie” had no reason to believe that their working class household was any different from anyone else’s. Sally and George McAdam kept a small home, that gradually felt smaller with each additional sibling born to the family, but there was always food on the table. They weren’t poor; they worked hard. If they wanted for something they couldn’t afford, well, George had creative means of getting it - means which he taught all of his children in the fashion of gambling, hustling and deception. Freddie learned early on that one had to take what one wanted out of life, cunning was an admirable means to that end, but brute force was the method enjoyed the best. 

Sharing the bedroom closest to his parents’, Freddie grew accustomed to hearing the altercations between them on nights when George would come home piss drunk after losing his and his wife’s wages to gambling. It happened so frequently that Freddie began to think this dysfunction was typical too. He hated to hear his sweet mother cry, to see the fear in the other children’s eyes as they huddled together waiting for their father’s tirade to die out. No one came to help and Freddie knew better than to seek help outside of the home, so Freddie and his other siblings that could work, went out to try to keep the family afloat, to try to appease their mercurial father, more importantly to appease his father’s enemies. 

As cruel and violent as George was in bad times, he was capable of charm and glimpses of fatherly care in good times. This was naturally confusing to an impressionable child. George wasn’t a villain, Freddie reasoned. The world was just a fucked up place and some people had a larger share of shit than others. He saw himself in his father, more and more as he grew older, which led him down an inevitable path of trouble. It started at school, several negative reports from teachers, picking on other kids who looked at him funny, selling drugs in bathroom stalls. His ‘acting out’ only grew worse with every birthday that passed. Sally did her best to talk sense into him, but ultimately he was too much like his father to be persuaded to set himself right.  

When his second youngest brother, Nathan, killed their father, Freddie didn’t know how to reconcile his grief. He was 17. He knew that George deserved it, that if brutally pushed into a corner as many times as Nathan was, he would do the same. And yet, George was his father too– with all of his flaws. Life owed him for this. Freddie grew angry, unable to turn his rage to his brother, he spewed it out in all directions everywhere else. He resorted to a policy of throwing punches first and asking questions never. He showed up to school only to run drugs or persuade girls to skip with him for ‘fun’ or to pick fights with teachers whose opinions he cared nothing about. He found the rough crowd and positioned himself to run it, broke into houses, stole, fought at pubs for fun, and finally assaulted a teacher who dared to question his mother’s parenting. Legal troubles only began there for Freddie, but a move to New York in 1994, when his mother remarried to Jack Crane, a wealthy tobacco entrepreneur, offered a seemingly clean slate. In his eyes, a new stomping ground and a new father figure well-versed in white collar crime, gave him license to do whatever the fuck he pleased. Freddie earned unbridled access to money, to quality drugs, to women. It was his decade of debauchery.   

Against all odds, Freddie escaped the prison system and overdose and spent several years running amok with Nathan and their younger siblings, under the cover of Jack Crane’s tobacco business. They developed friendships with unsavory characters in New York and back in London from the old days of running drugs and hustling that ultimately came to be valuable connections for their impending business ventures. Nathan and Freddie saw opportunities in facilitating connection between their contacts and the disgustingly rich and bored elite. Freddie had personally slept with enough bored, lonely housewives to know that they had cash to burn as long as they didn’t have to get their hands dirty. Freddie and Nathan devised schemes to establish themselves to be independently wealthy. On one such night of plotting, drinking cheap whiskey at a local pub, the boys resolved to invest in the distillery business, which would become a front for their other creative endeavors. They knew how to distill gin from their grandmother’s teaching and they had the capital and the connections to make it happen.  

Ten years ago, the brothers founded Crane Bros Distilleries. Nathan was the brains, Freddie was the brawn. Partners in crime in every sense of the word. With unresolved daddy issues and a penchant for coke-induced benders, Freddie is always poised for a fight. Freddie protects the family business, Nathan protects Freddie from the long arm of the law. At least, Nathan does his best to, but Freddie is a loose canon and doesn’t take kindly to constructive criticism..

[letfatewritethewords]

I process things with art. I process with written words in the hopes that one day it can be spoken without my voice shaking. This week has been one for the books.. and I decided to share. This is long, but I want to remember what I’m learning.. how I’m processing.. if you decide to read, thank you. If not, this will still be here as a reminder of my progress every year.

I always tell people that there was no reason for my name, but it’s a lie. I’m named after Samantha on BeWitched. My grandfather loved that show and suggested it when my mother couldn’t decide. I was born in early September and that makes me a Virgo. Astrology is one of my favorite things. There’s something extraordinary about the idea that we’re connected to the universe by the positioning of the stars. Sometimes it’s so vague.. but other times, it’s right on the nose and my horoscopes will make me cry. Speaking of that, I’m an empath and a 2. When I’m unhealthy, I’m a 4 and If you know what any of that means, I’d love to talk to you more about it. Winter is my favorite season. Fall is a close second. I love the snow and how muted everything is. I like the quiet, the beauty. Sometimes, the light from the sun will shimmer off a fresh coat of snow on the ground. It is absolutely blinding, but I’d still stare, and when the snow fell at night, I’d watch it under the street light across from my house and it felt like time stood still. When I was little, I would lay in the yard full of snow, alone, in my puffy suite, until my fingers and toes would go numb from the cold, listening to the silence, but the best part of those days was going back into my grandparents house and warming up with hot coco made on the stove, wrapping myself in a soft blanket and watching old movies with my grandfather. To me, the Winter is magical. My love languages are Quality Time and Acts of Service. I’m an introvert but I love people. I like to observe, I like to really understand how the mind works and Im eager to help. I thrive in controlled chaos. I like puzzles, I love music, I like crafts, I like to fix things because grandpa always taught me that nothing is to broken to fix. Nothing. No one.

This is the light. This is the part of me that I give willingly to anyone I meet. I wear it on my sleeve. It’s only the light. Until the last 2 years.. this was all I could give of myself because I’ve always been scared of the dark.

The darkest part of me lasted 8 years, my rock bottom lasted 4.5, but as a whole it’s taken up almost 12 years of my life. Sometimes I worry that all I'm ever going to be is this thing that happened to me. That this will define me for the rest of my life and I need to remind myself that I’m a person that can live separate from an event.

I went to the police station this week, I filled out more forms. I’ve filled out so many forms over the last 2 years. For an emergency restraining order this time. For Florida this time. I knew it would eventually follow me here but typhus felt too soon. The clerk called me brave. I smile and thank them every time but I never know how to respond to that. She has no idea how weak it feels and I mean.. how could she. This is the right choice, the obvious choice, the smart choice. In a different situation, it’s one of the many steps I’d be urging someone else to take. In all the chaos, all the hurt, in all the anger and sadness.. it always circles back to “I loved him”. I did. I wanted to fix him. I wanted to see him grow and heal and if I loved him hard enough for the both of us, it would’ve evened out eventually… right?

I failed.

He was always who he was, but I was young and naive and ready to fix the whole world. When I was 18 and we were free, I would’ve told you he saved me. Now that I’m in my 30’s… and he’s in prison and I’m in limbo.. I don’t know what I’d tell you. He didn’t save me, but he didn’t destroy me either. I had every opportunity to tap out and give up.. but I grew into a person I might not have been if I never met him.

Am I angry? All of the time.

Am I scared? Yes.

I see things more clearly now though. People talk about how you never know someone’s story, and that’s because we are experts at playing pretend like we have it all figured out until we’re alone and have to face truest selves. The facade is the hardest thing to give up. Some people saw through mine and there are others, who have built their own, that never will. I share posts about what I’ve learned, how I see people, how I’ve try to treat people with grace and teach children with love and patience in hopes that a little of that sinks into whoever it reaches, but I very rarely show the journey. Partly because I know the details are gruesome and that’s not for everyone, but mostly because I’m scared.

How will you see me?

What will you think?

I’m learning that I’m not this big awful thing that happened to me. I was never anyone’s property and I’m not chained to it anymore. I was very much lied to and manipulated and hurt long enough that it flipped onto me and I carried it without missing a step. I wanted to love him so much that I would heal him. Instead, he “loved” me so much it almost killed me, and he did call it love. Enough times that he re-defined it and I didn’t use that word for a very long time in any meaningful situation. He, for better or for worse, drastically changed the trajectory of my life.

But it’s ok.

I’m wounded but I’m healing. I’m lonely, but I’m learning how to slowly welcome more people in and step out of my comfort zone. If I’m being honest, I’m relearning a lot of things, including how to exist in a world where I have room to make mistakes and fail. I can say or do the wrong thing and be gently corrected for it by my people and move on … sans violence. There are no words for amount of relief I feel because of that truth.

Is it over? No.

He was sentenced to 7 years last year and every year around mid July early August there is an opportunity to apply for an appeal based on his behavior, which will always be immaculate because he is not as tough as he thinks he is. This means that if he applies and it goes to trial, I’m also notified and have to reappear, show any new evidence, and reexplain why he needs to stay there for the safety of others and myself. Telling my story once a year on a whim to a room full of strangers, always men, so they can decide my fate, as well as the fate of this “upstanding young man with a good head on his shoulders” (actual words used during my initial rape/domestic abuse trial against him), was never what I imagined finally turning him in would look like. I really never thought that after everything, his sentence wouldn’t even be as long as our relationship. The original sentence was 5 years. After he got out on a Governor Cuomo Covid related prison loophole and broke his parole almost immediately, he was sentenced to another 2 on top of that. He has 6 left. We talk about how flawed our system is, but really seeing it is a different kind of punch. Women aren’t believed. There’s a reason so many of these crimes go unreported, and why so many women die at the hands of angry men. The hoops you have to jump through are miles high and on fire, and when you and the advocate show up armed only with your truth, your tears and a little evidence from one night at a bar when he got to drunk and forgot he was in public, it’s very easy for a judge to rule on the softer side. Because, as you all know, we’d never want to ruin a wealthy mans life unless there’s cold, hard, reason to.

Seeing his face when they read out his sentence, after years of terror, was satisfying to say the least and if I hadn’t been so numb to get through the hearing, I would’ve enjoyed it more. I will never forget going to a trusted friends house after that hearing and being completely overwhelmed with all of the emotions. Relief, guilt, sadness, anger, happiness, fear.. so many I couldn’t express.. all at once because the novocain wears off and numb isn’t forever and I fell asleep with their dog after a lot of crying. I’d be lying though if I said that 18 year old in me didn’t feel a loss. I grew up with incredible grandparents that did amazing things in teaching me how to love people and be a good human, but no one can protect us from everything. I also grew up with a mother who fights demons of her own and never had the capacity to love two kids. In a situation like that, someone becomes the punching bag. I became the punching bag and desperately looked for ways out, an opportunity to run.. and I ran right into him, who accepted me with open arms for the first time in my young, very inexperienced life.. and I followed him blindly and he was my whole world. Until I was 27, I didn’t have a guide. By the grace of God I landed into a community in Florida that slowly helped me realize my worth.

So.. what now.

How do we fix what our parents and past broke?

How do you reparent yourself?

The mental health journey is proving to be my biggest struggle yet. There’s no more outside factors, it’s just me and the lies that have fed me for years and altered how I think and feel and understand the world. I can feel myself frustrating people I’ve let close to me. I feel myself getting nervous and pushing people away. Sometimes I can catch it and regroup, other times that nasty little voice is too loud and I’m exhausted. My goodness though, how cool is it to learn so much about yourself? I know I have the capacity to love that broken part of me eventually, but it’s still hard to face. Getting to learn and understand the reason behind your actions is terrifyingly amazing. I am proud of this journey. Even when I don’t always come up on top. It’s hard to see the progress while you’re in it, but laying it all out like this.. I can safely say I’m never going to be that 18 year old girl ever again. Some days this journey looks different, some days the darkness wins, because healing isn’t linear. Sometimes it’s one step forward, 2 steps back… but nothing is too broken to fix.. and I will never call that darkness home again.