#pulled out a normal handgun and shot someone

[countrymusiclover]

One - The Man Who Can Control Metal

Battle of the Mind and Heart

Part 2

Tags - just send me an ask to be added @aintinacage

I am not sure how to really ever start the first chapter of my books. I hope I can figure out the dynamic. I want these two to go in at some point. If you have any tips on how that should go, dm me 👍

Germany, Poland 1944

Sliding on my black combat boots I pushed my hair out of my face. Standing up front the desk chair I was sitting in I could hear my father's footsteps coming closer down the hallway. I tied my hair up in a ponytail hearing the office door finally open revealing my father. He had dark brown hair and bright green eyes. Yet I resemble my mother overall with bright blue eyes and blonde hair. “Addison, you're coming to work with me today.”

“Alright whatever for?” I asked knowing that he normally kept me out of his work. Always saying it would be far too much for me to handle.

He fixed the top part of his jacket, sending me a half smirking yet proud smile. “There's someone very interested I'd like you to meet.” He headed out the door immediately and I was quick to follow his heels, he never cared for me if I was dragging along behind him.

We moved up and down some stairs then through a couple of different rooms until we entered an office and he shut the door behind me. He sat down in the chair behind the desk and I just decided to lean against the side before the door opened once more. Two soldiers enter, leading a young boy that looks to be my age of fourteen years old. “What is going on, father?”

“This boy was supposed to be going to the camps until he had a disagreement with some of the men. He bent a metal fence almost in half. He's not ordinary, my dear daughter.” My father almost sounded proud of such a feet.

Shifting my gaze to the young boy he avoided my gaze and watched the floor. “What's your name?”

“Erik…Erik Lehnsherr.” He paused in his answer. “I want to see my mother.”

Glancing over my shoulder I shiver asking the question. “Where's his mother?”

“That needn't be your concern, daughter. She is where she is supposed to be and he will see her again once he shows me what he can do.” My father picked up a bell out of the desk and the guards opened the door revealing a woman who Erik ran to, meaning it must be his mother. My father took out a handgun explaining. “Here’s what we’re going to do. I’m going to count to three…and you’re going to move the coin. You don’t move the coin, I pull the trigger.”

“Dad, no. You can’t!” I attempted to grab the gun from him but he had the two guards by the door grab me and pin me down on my knees and just watch. “One….two….three.”

Erik couldn’t move the coin and I cried out watching his mother get shot. Yet the young boy didn’t dare turn around before he bent the bell and the metal cabinet. Throwing my elbow backwards into one of the guards they tried to grab me but at the same time he managed to crush the metal helmets on their heads until they died beside his mother. “Erik…” I breathe put covering my face until all the metal lab objects stopped getting thrown around above my head.

Uncovering my eyes I gasped eyeing his mother's dead body on the floor. He started crying in anger with my father apalding him. “Outstanding, Erik. So we unlock your gift with anger.” He placed the coin in his hand and headed for the door.

“How could you do that to him!” Rushing forward I grabbed my father's arm and he winced and I saw my hand turn red. Quickly drawing my hand backwards I saw it disappear before he could see I had some power of my own. As far as he knew I was just human like my mother.

My father Sebastian turned around to face me. “He's not like everyone else and I wish to see what he can truly do.” He left the office without saying another word to me or to the boy behind me.

“Erik, I….I'm sorry.” I noticed that he hasn't moved from where he stood and I did consider touching his shoulder. Yet decided no seeing the state he was in now.

He slowly glanced at me sniffing through tears. “You’re a monster, Addison!” I didn’t like the way he said my name for the first time which such anger and hate. Wrapping my arms around myself I left the room figuring it would be hard to gain any trust with him now.

Years later

Things haven't gotten any better between Erik and I. My father has kept me out of the supposed research he calls it. Yet I found out the truth a little while ago…about two years after we met. It was the middle of the night as I made my way down to the sort of bunker room they were keeping Erik in. It had no metal seeing as he could escape. Shutting the door behind me he sat up slightly in the bed but scoffed the second he saw it was me. “What are you doing here!”

“I brought you some extra food from my dinner if you want it.” Reaching inside my jacket I tossed him a zip lock bag that had some biscuits and a half slice of meat seeing that they didn't feed him well.

He caught the bag looking me in the eye briefly. “Why are you being nice to me?”

“Because I'm not like my father, Erik.” I responded with my hands inside my pockets.

The young mutant boy sat in silence just eating the food that I had given him. Moving downward I sat across from him with my hands laying in my lap. I wasn’t sure what to say to him. I knew that he didn’t trust me. “What is the real reason you’re talking to me?”

“Because I heard that they're shutting down everything. The camps, the experiments, everything. My father is packing to get out of here and not get executed. But I thought you should know that I’m here to help you get out of here.” Glancing over my shoulder I watched the door behind us counting down the minutes, figuring if my father found out where I was I would never see Erik again.

Erik stared at me finishing his food before he rolled up the sleeve of his shirt. I noticed the numbers that had been marked onto his left forearm and it made me feel guilty that he was suffering. “You’re really willing to help me, I still don’t understand why.”

“Come with me and you’ll see that I’m someone you can trust.” Raising myself to my feet offering him my hand.

He hesitantly placed his hand in mine asking one more question before I helped him sneak out before we could get caught. “What am I supposed to call you, Shaw girl?”

“Addison is too formal. Call me Addi.”

He got to his feet heading for the door twisting the doorknob and we both saw some flashing lights going down the hallway. He quickly turned his attention to me. “So what exactly is the plan now?”

“How about this? Since I am helping you get out of here then you agree to never hurt or try to kill me.” I suggested shrugging my shoulders.

Erik actually agreed to my shock and awe. “Fine, Shaw girl. But you'll help me find the ones who hurt me.” I squeezed his hand that was still looped with his saying that I agreed in silence before began running and haven't stopped since then.

Shutting the hotel room door behind me with my foot I didn’t hear the tv or anything on in which could only mean that Erik had either left or was just plotting in silence. Sliding my boots off of my feet at the door I paused in the doorway. “How long have you been staring at that wall?”

“That’s not your concern.” He grumbled moving the coin from my father between his fingers, never looking away from the board with pinned maps and pictures leading up to my father’s picture.

Crossing my arms over my chest I huffed. “Maybe it is my business considering the only time you leave is to kill some other Nazi members. So forgive me for being concerned.”

“I didn’t ask you to free me that night, Addison.” He scoffed using my full name knowing I didn’t care for it.

Waving my index finger at him I stepped away from the wall and to the foot of the bed. “I told you to not call me that, Lehnsherr!”

“Addison.” He just kept going until I crawled up onto the bed putting my hands on either side of his head glaring at the man in front of me.

The entire time he just kept moving the coin until I managed to snatch it from him. My freehand landed down on his thigh and he winced where I realized what I was doing and drew my hand back. “Sorry that I might actually care about you after what happened to your family. If you’re gonna hate me for the rest of our lives I guess I’ll just go!”

“Addison….” Erik called for me but I was already around the corner to my bedroom and slammed the door behind me. He noticed the coin had been dropped on the floor and so he slowly used his power, levitating it once more and then launching it right to my father’s forehead.

Once the door was shut I flopped down on my bed screaming into my pillow. A few minutes after that I heard the desk lamp move and a few markers and some of my shoes go flying around…everything had some tiny bit of metal inside them. “Urgh! Why did I have to touch him.” I scolded myself under my breath in frustration.

Sitting upright on the foot of the bed I put my face in my hands. “At some point he'll figure it out.” Raising my right hand I made the pen start to levitate in the air since I still had Erik's power running from my veins for a short time. Laying my head back on the pillow I just stared at the ceiling.

My father couldn't know the truth that I had my own mutation. Because if he knew he would have done everything that he did to Erik on his own daughter. So if them other mutant I was living with needed to hate me then I'd accept it. Since I didn't feel like I could be myself…my true self and that maybe I was broken since I could only take power from others and I didn't have my own abilities.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

The metal controlling mutant sat in silence and finally moved his gaze to my locked door. He felt slightly guilty and confused for treating you badly over the years but he couldn’t see past what he knew. That your father was the man who ruined his life…even though you decided to help him he wouldn’t let his heart change the mission he had inside his head.

[novelcain]

*visibly SHAKING* MAFIA MAMA LMK Reader!!!!! 😭

Mk is her baby boy now, (NO it doesn’t fucking matter if he’s a Teen or adult! HE’S HER BABY!)

I could totally see her being a Normal civilian at first before she met Dragonhead Wukong (did I use that right?) so most people think she’s all innocent and dainty.. until someone says something about Mk in her presence.. I don’t think even she knows when she mentally adopted him.

Reader: THE FUCK DID YOU JUST SAY ABOUT MY SON!?!? *grabs Macaroni’s gun (he was already holding it out for her.. he’s seen this shit happen before, and he’s loving it. It’s hilarious.)

Mk: 🥹 Mama’s so cool.

The unfortunate soul: *Is suddenly VERY aware this woman knowingly joined the troop of the infamous Sun Wukong during the start of their relationship* W-Wait, I d-didn’t mean it.

Reader: Too late! NOBODY TALKS SHIT ABOUT MY BABY!! *shoots him in the butt when he tries running away*

Wukong: 😍 Marry me~

Reader: Darling we’ve been through this, I spent nearly two YEARS planning our wedding. We are NOT moving up the date again!!! 😑

Wukong: .. fine… 🥺

🎃~

(Lol you 2 seemed to be on the same wave length so I figured you wouldn't mind me throwing you in the same room so to speak. djvwdvbwnv omg and you're both orange!)

Omg, pumpkin, I love the thought of Reader just being a normal civilian before meeting Dragonhead Wukong (dw love you usin it right) and the idea of reader patching up mk is so cute, orange.

I'm imagining a slightly different scenario:

MK and you had plans to go to lunch together to discuss his part in the wedding. You both thought it was a lovely day and since the café was close by you both decided to walk there. However, you wish you had just taken a cab now. 

You were being manhandled at the back of the alley by one man while MK was fighting three others near the entrance to the alleyway. 

MK didn't want anything bad to happen to you, and while he was focused on you, he got taken by surprise and got hit over the head with a steel pipe. As you watched him fall limp to the ground, you saw red. You couldn't care less for your own safety anymore. Your boy was hurt. And watching the three thugs stomp on MK while he struggled to shield himself in the fetal position made you snap. You shoved off the thug holding you by the hair and reached into your purse to pull out the small handgun Wukong had insisted you keep on you at all times. 

You whipped around and jumped as you shot the gangster that was holding you point blank in the head. You then turned your attention back to the triads beating MK. You were shaking but kept your firearm trained on them regardless. They looked taken aback by your retaliation. They were under the impression that you were just some regular girl Wukong picked off the streets and not someone capable of shooting a man in the face with almost no reaction. True, you were shaking, but your face looked so blank. You were wide eyed and slack jawed like you weren't even in control of your own actions anymore. 

One of the thugs almost immediately snapped out of his shock and went to grab his gun out of his suit only to get shot in the neck as soon as he moved. The other two flinched and one went to run but you quickly shot him in the back around his center mass, and the other went to grab his gun but was sucked into a shadow on the ground before he could. 

You were still in shock and had your gun still raised expecting the man to pop out in front of you at any second. You shakily looked around for any sign of the man and just as you were about to lower your weapon you felt a hand grab your shoulder. 

"AH!" You yelped and ripped away from the person before turning and firing with your eyes closed at where you assumed the person's head would be. 

You slowly opened your eyes to see if you got the last man only to see Macaque standing there with a clenched fist in front of his face. 

"W-Wha—" You found yourself unable to complete your sentence. 

"Nice shot," Macaque opened his fist and the bullet you fired dropped from it, "But maybe don't shoot the handsome demon that came to rescue his nephew and future sister-in-law." 

"I-I—" 

"No need to thank me I was just—" 

"MK!" You cut off the monkey mid-sentence and immediately ran to MK who was trying to get up. While you were distracted, you missed Macaque mumbling something about being forgotten after you tried to shoot him in the face. "Don't move, MK! J-Just stay down and rest for a bit." 

You carefully grabbed MK and pulled him down to sit with you, placing your gun on the ground next to you so you could direct him to rest his head on your lap. Once he relaxed into your grasp, you brushed through his hair and flinched when you felt a warm wetness on your fingertips. You gently turned his head to check the wound only to find that it was already healing itself. 

You let out a sign of relief as Macaque crouched down beside you to get a look at his student. After a quick glance, he realized that MK had already passed out in your arms, so he directed his question to you. 

"How's he doing?" Macaque asked softly, not wanting to startle you again. 

"I think he'll be okay." 

"Of course, he will be... and you?" 

"I'll... I'll be okay." 

There was a moment of silence within the alley way as you tried to calm down while Macaque quietly glanced over you to see if there were any injuries. 

"Let's get you two back to Wukong." 

"Y-Yeah." 

Macaque then stood up and walked around to get behind MK before reaching down and carefully picking him up, trying not to jostle him too much lest you turn your momma bear rage on him. 

He stood up once more with MK and directed you towards the closest wall where he opened a shadow portal. He was about to enter but stopped when he heard you speak up. 

"Hey, Macaque?" 

"Hm?" 

"Is that guy still alive? The one you took." 

Macaque paused. 

"For now." 

"Good. He's the one who hit MK over the head. I didn't get to repay him for that yet." You walked past Macaque with a stone-cold look in your eyes. 

Macaque stood there in shock for half a moment before letting out a dark chuckle and following you through the portal. After Macaque went through with MK, the shadow portal warped before enveloping the entire alleyway. When it receded, any evidence that something happened there disappeared without a trace. Not even the blood splatter remained. 

Macaque walked into the condo and set MK down on the couch and you walked over to check on MK one more time. When you were certain he’d be okay and would probably wake up soon, you turned your attention back to Macaque. 

“Take me to that man. I wanna be back before MK wakes up.” 

A sinister grin stretched across the macaque’s face as he made eye contact with you. Your face spoke of nothing but malicious intent. 

"You're becoming crueler every day, little girl. Welcome to the family~." 

I'll be putting this on ao3 since I have more to add to it that I don't feel like writing rn so I'll just make a second chapter.

Here's the link incase you wanna look out for the second chapter. 😋

[rookthorne]

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐐𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐧'𝐬 𝐅𝐮𝐫𝐲

There was no place on earth that the bastards could hide from your retribution after they hurt your King, but first, you had to make sure Bucky would live to tell the tale. Karma would let you rain hellfire on them, all in good time.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 ✰ Biker!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 ✰ 2.5k

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 ✰ Hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, graphic description of blood and a gunshot wound, unconventional medical procedure

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 ✰ This one was planned well before Whumptober, but this prompt fit it perfectly so you guys get it early!

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕 ✰ Whumptober 2022 —   Masterlist

𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐁𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

For a change, the clubhouse was quiet. It was almost eerie. The hollers and whoops of the normal partying atmosphere were gone, the clatter of shot glasses and bottles on the bar non-existent. 

Bucky, Steve, and Sam were out with the van for a ‘meeting’, Peter was working with you at the bar to help restock the barren shelves after one hell of a party the other night, and the others were scattered about town or snoozing in their beds. 

It was serene. Quiet rock played over the speakers and you kept up the small talk with Peter to fill the silences between riffs and songs. 

Until Peter’s phone rang. 

You paid no mind until you felt the once calm atmosphere shift to one of tense anticipation. 

“What do you mean- Steve, what do you want me to do?” Peter sounded confused but poised like a trigger to jump into action. You looked at him quizzically and tried to get his attention, your curiosity piqued - he just ignored you and walked away from the bar and into Church so his voice would be too quiet to make out.

“What the hell?” You muttered, the final bottles now sat on top of the bar as you watched Peter pace to and fro next to the table. 

“Got it, have you called him?” Peter asked and stalked towards the apartments, his pace fast and face stony. He returned a moment later with a bundle of sheets and towels in his free arm, which only made you even more confused. “Yep, all set. See you soon.”

The snap of the burner phone made you jump and you stared into Peter’s face, only to find him doing everything and anything to avoid your gaze. 

“Pete,” he looked up at you and his eyes roved all over your face, unable to settle on just one spot. It was his nervous tick and you felt your stomach drop with dread. “What’s going on?”

“We’re gonna have a visitor,” Peter started, carefully. His tone was measured with an air of the reserved kindness he used when he wanted to reassure you - in this instance it only served to set you more on edge. “He’s gonna be here soon to-” he winced as though the words physically pained him. “To fix Bucky.”

You could feel the blood drain from your face and your heart began to hammer up into your throat in earnest. “What the fuck do you mean, ‘fix Bucky’, Peter?”

Peter recoiled as though you had burned him with your tone. “He w-was shot, and Stephen is on his way.”

The beat of silence that passed was unbearable and you watched as Peter wrung his hands, a desperate tick to soothe and abate the tension that was rapidly growing between the two of you.

“Go and wake up who’s here, I’ll throw the sheets over the table.”

It was almost comical how fast Peter ran back towards the apartments at your order. Quickly, you bundled the pile of sheets and towels and ran into Church. The chairs slid against the floor when you kicked them out of the way to throw the first sheet over the wood. 

You were on your fourth sheet when the sound of a car pulling into the lot caught your attention. “Peter!” He appeared in the doorway with Thor looking over his shoulder looking sleep-addled and uncharacteristically serious. “Someone just pulled into the lot.”

“On it!” Peter yelled over his shoulder, jogging to the door with his handgun drawn and the safety off. The door creaked open and Peter visibly sagged with relief. “It’s him.” Thor caught your confused gaze and mouthed ‘Stephen’ and you nodded. 

So, of all days, today was the one you’d meet the aloof and arrogant doctor that Bucky relied on so heavily. 

“Hey, doc!” Peter called and you watched as he pushed the door open to welcome the doctor into the clubhouse. “She’s just setting up the table now.”

Stephen was an imposing man, a streak of grey lined his slicked hair and he held himself with such an air of arrogance you struggled against the urge to pull a grimace. You didn’t know what state Bucky was in, but you needed to not offend what no doubt was Stephen’s fragile ego. 

It didn’t stop you, however, from imagining Bucky’s reaction - hopefully humorous - if you told this arrogant asshole where to stick it. 

“Hey,” you greeted quickly before continuing to throw sheets over the table. “Bucky’s told me about you, thanks for getting here so quick.”

Stephen nodded simply and you suppressed the urge to roll your eyes. Asshole. 

“Thor, I’ll get you to grab the bag from the car so I can prep this,” a quick albeit displeased glance around the room gave him pause, “space.”

The thump of Thor’s boots on the floor echoed around the bar until he passed through the door, pulling Peter along with him. 

“Do you know what happened with Buck?” You asked while throwing the last towel across the now covered table. “They didn’t tell me anything.”

Stephen busied himself with the briefcase he held, the leather hitting the cotton sheets when he slammed it onto the table. Inside there was an array of tools and if you didn’t know better, they’d be for something different entirely to their intended purpose of pulling a slug from Bucky. 

“I do.” Stephen said simply, but didn’t elaborate further. He ignored your raised brow and pulled a set of surgical gloves on as Peter and Thor came back into Church, bag in hand. 

The roar of an engine and screeching sound of tires pulled you from your imagination of giving Stephen a piece of your mind and back to the present. “Bucky!” Your feet carried you through the clubhouse on muscle memory and when you reached the lot where the van was haphazardly parked, the urge to scream from shock was almost overwhelming. 

Bucky was chalk white with blood covering his left shoulder and down his front, it was even smeared over his face. His kutte lay abandoned in the back of the van. Steve and Sam were either side of him, supporting Bucky’s limp weight and stumbled steps between them to just get him through the door. 

“What the hell- Buck, can you hear me?” 

“Hey,” he slurred, the effort of moving his head only made him pale further, if it were even possible. “‘M sorry, doll.”

“You can make it up to her later,” Steve panted and you pushed the door open further, the handle almost denting the wall with the force. 

“In Church, Stephen’s there,” you rushed as they walked through the doorway. “There’s blankets already on the table.”

“Sooner I get this oaf off of me,” Sam sniped, a grimace of pain on his face, “the better.” 

Bucky groaned loudly when Steve shifted his arm and you winced. The whole ordeal of moving Bucky onto the table was almost too painful to watch, his cut off shouts and cursing enough to drive you to the brink of panic. 

“Why isn’t he at the hospital?” You blurted before you could stop yourself and Sam looked over his shoulder at you. 

“No one- fuck sake, Barnes,” Sam swore when Bucky accidentally kicked his hip reflexively when Stephen approached. Doctors were one of his biggest fears - right next to the thought of losing you. “The meeting went south and they shot him in the shoulder.”

The realisation dawned on you. It was why Stephen was here in the first place, it was why Bucky was laid on a wooden table covered in cheap cotton bedding and towels while the gunshot wound weeped a river of blood down his arm and chest. 

“Oh, I will kill those bastards,” you growled and Sam grinned, his once stony expression now one of beaming pride. 

“We won’t stop you, for once.” 

“This is lovely and all,” Stephen cut in, his voice sharper than the scalpel in his hand. “But I need someone to convince this idiot that I’m not going to kill him.”

Bucky’s eyes were wide in apparent fear of the doctor he claimed to trust, and his legs were shuffling against the cover on the table as though to find purchase, desperate to run and get away. 

Pain had driven him into delirium. 

“Sweets,” Steve shouted around another round of cursing from Bucky. “You’re up!”

“Fuck,” you muttered, mastering the rage that boiled through your veins like a corrosive poison. There’ll be time enough later to tackle that beast. “Okay.”

Steve stepped down the table so he could hold Bucky’s legs down, while Sam took his bloodied arm to cease his thrashing. The only space left was by Bucky’s good shoulder so you took your place, right by his side, where you promised to always be. 

“Bucky,” you tried, your hand pushed against his shoulder to get his attention. “Bucky, I need you to look at me.” 

It was like he was in a stupor, his eyes glazed over and he would not take his eyes off of Stephen who stood away from the table - conveniently out of striking distance.

“You stay the fuck away from me,” Bucky spat while glaring at Stephen, and he valiantly tried to get up. 

“No! James, stop it!” 

Bucky froze. Slowly, so damn slowly, his head turned towards you until he stared into your face and recognition finally bloomed despite the delirium. “Doll?”

“Yeah, it’s me, baby,” with your admission he seemed to settle, but only slightly. His legs were still but he still refused to lay flat on the table. “Listen to me, okay? I need you to lay down, can you do that for me?” 

“M’kay,” Bucky mumbled and you could hear the audible sighs of relief from Sam and Steve, Peter and Thor, however, were still poised to jump in. Bucky’s back slowly relaxed against the table and you smiled softly, your hand softly running through his hair like you did to settle him after a nightmare. 

“That’s it,” you soothed and Bucky continued to stare at you, entirely forgetting that a doctor stood only a few feet away. 

“Okay, doc,” Steve said quietly, his grip tightening subtly against the denim at Bucky’s knees. “I think this is as good as we’re gonna get.”  

Stephen looked at you quickly. “You need to keep him calm and distracted,” he brandished a syringe, “while I numb the area.” 

Quickly, you nodded and shifted closer to the table to cradle Bucky’s face in your hands. “Baby, I need you to stay still for me,” he only stared back blankly, well beyond reasoning while in the grips of such pain - and it was only going to get worse, his left shoulder was notoriously sensitive. “Can you do that?”

A slow nod, and Stephen advanced. 

The needle pierced the skin by the bullet hole and Bucky screamed. 

“Buck!” you yelled over the cursing and shrill cry you hoped you would never hear again. “Baby, look at me, please.”

He did so, and your heart broke. 

You swore to high heaven that the bastard’s who shot him would meet the barrel of a gun and hear the crack of gunfire. No one hurt your King - no one. 

“Stay with me,” you whispered against the flood of tears that threatened to escape your eyes. Bucky’s own were weeping, the trail of tears crossed his bloodied temples to land in his hair. 

“I’ll start the incision now, we don’t have much time,” Stephen said to your left and you braced - emotionally and physically. 

“Wait!” you hissed sharply at Stephen and you leant a bit closer to Bucky. “Baby, I need you to breathe with me, okay?” 

The bubble of worry in your gut over just how quickly Bucky’s eyes slipped in and out of focus went ignored - the tide of pain no doubt doing it’s damndest to pull him under, and by God, you weren’t going to let it win. You grabbed his right hand and unfurled his iron grip from the edge of the table to place it over your sternum. 

A deep breath in, a deep breath out. “Can you do that?” Another deep breath in, another deep breathe out. Bucky followed your steady rhythm several times and you nodded your head for Stephen to proceed - your voice trapped in your throat with the tears you refused to shed. 

“Here we go,” Stephen so graciously warned. How kind.

You didn’t watch the glide of the blade over Bucky’s shoulder. You didn’t pay attention to the steady workings of Stephen’s fingers on the tools he used to dig for the bullet. 

You were focused on your breathing, and in turn, Bucky’s. It was what was important. Even through the quiet groans and whimpers of pain, he kept his breathing steady to match yours.

In and out. In and out. 

“That’s it,” unable to stop the single tear that escaped your waterline, you smiled despite it. “You’re doing so good, baby.”

“Ah, shit,” Stephen murmured beside you and your eyes shot up to stare at his hands. 

“What’s wrong, Stephen?” Sam demanded and he shifted closer so his shoulder almost hit Stephen’s bent frame. 

“The bullet is stuck,” Stephen replied quickly, looking up and into his bag. “Get me the smallest pair of tweezers,” he directed at Peter and Peter rushed to grab them.

Bucky’s breath hitched and he squirmed slightly, his expression pinched tightly against what seemed to be a wave of pain. Stephen pointedly stared at you, and you glared back. “Hurry up,” you barked at the doctor and Sam barely stifled a snort of laughter. 

Peter handed the tweezers over and stood beside him, a metal tray with a kidney dish in his hands as he waited for the next order. 

A low moan of pain came from Bucky and you stiffened, your grip on his hand against your chest tightened in warning. “Stay still, baby.”

The tweezers worked their way into the wound and Bucky grimaced. “Son of a-” A shout of pain when Stephen pulled free the bullet cut off his insult and you winced in sympathy. 

“Breathe,” you reminded Bucky and his focus turned to you once again, both of you ignoring the clink of the bullet against the metal of the kidney dish. 

Before long, Bucky’s wound was cleaned and stitched up so you tended to his face. The gentle press of cloth against the drying blood made him smart, but since he was now sitting on the edge of the table, he could grip your hips in warning when it got too much - the fatigue hitting him harder than a truck. 

The guys were standing by the bar, discussing quietly something you didn’t care to know. What you did know, was that you were going to tear the bastard’s limb from limb for hurting your King. 

It seemed to show on your face because Bucky narrowed his eyes, suspicion dancing over his expression. 

“I’m gonna kill ‘em, Buck.” A raised brow was your only answer to the proclamation and you pushed on. “No one hurts my King and gets away with it.”

Despite his pain, despite his delirium, Bucky smiled. “I-” A dry cough cut him off and you frowned at just how raspy he sounded. “I can’t wait, my Queen.”

You gently brought his head down so you could kiss his forehead softly. “Neither can I.”

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑  ⠄⠂⠁

⠈⠂⠄𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁

[negative-speedforce]

Supernatural Fear Inducer for... hm, Cassandra and Jay? (or if there's another OC you had in mind, feel free to write for them instead)

Ooh, this one will be fun!

Prompt: Supernatural Fear Inducer

From: @badthingshappenbingo's challenge

Featuring: My Arrowverse OCs Jay, Cassandra, and Ameerah

Cassandra clenched her handgun in her hands, approaching the woman who was slowly filling a sack with money from the bank vault. "Freeze!"

"You again." The other woman, a known metahuman criminal by the name of Ameerah Carmine, sighed. "I thought I told you to stay out of my way."

"I don't take orders from criminals." Cassandra replied. "Now back away from the vault. Slowly."

"How about... no?" Ameerah whipped around, ducking under Cassandra's gun. She kicked Cassandra's feet out from under her, grabbing the money back. Cassandra shot up to her feet, gritting her teeth.

"Oh, it is so on." With the quick casting of a sigil from muscle memory alone, massive feathered black wings exploded out of Cassandra's back. She took to the air, shooting up like a falcon to the high ceilings of the ornate bank building, then back down into Ameerah's path, clenching her wings close to her back as she slammed the full weight of her body into Ameerah's.

Ameerah stood up, clenching her fists. "Back off, bitch."

"Hand over the money first, and I'll consider letting you go."

"You don't know what I'm capable of." Ameerah snarled.

"Actually, yeah, I do." Cassandra flicked her hand, a portal opening up in the floor beneath Ameerah, shadowy tentacles rising up from within to ensnare her. "That's why I had my little friends make these for me. Keeps you from messing with my emotions." Cassandra gestured to the irridecent sunglasses that she was wearing.

"Is that so?" Ameerah raised an eyebrow, struggling against the tentacles.

"Yeah. It is." Cassandra replied, approaching Ameerah. "Now hand over the cash, and I'll let you go. Deal?"

"No." Ameerah reeled her head back, slamming her skull into Cassandra's face, smashing her sunglasses to bits. Cassandra watched as Ameerah's eye color flicked through the spectrum. "You got overconfident, Agent Stevens. Now watch how that feels to have that confidence ripped away."

Deep, visceral fear welled up in Cassandra's chest. Her eyes went wide as her chest clenched so hard she couldn't breathe. Cassandra tried to push through, but it wasn't enough. She began to hyperventilate, collapsing helplessly to the ground as Ameerah escaped, sack of cash in hand.

She didn't know how long she laid there in the fetal position, but she hoped that someone would come for her. Her wings curled around her like a protective barrier, instinctively putting distance between her body and the world. Tears ran down her cheeks, running her eyeliner and mascara. She wasn't normally like this, was she? She wasn't pathetic, right?

"Hey, hey, it's me." Cassandra felt hands ruffle through the feathers on her wings, but she couldn't tell who it was. The person continued talking. "It's Jay. Your fiance. I need you to breathe with me, okay? In... out... yeah, that's good- in... out..."

Cassandra breathed with Jay, the panic slowly starting to disperse. With a shakily whispered spell, Cassandra managed to make her wings curl back into the slits in her jacket.

"Carmine again?" Jay asked.

"Yeah. She got away."

"I know. That fear attack of hers is a bitch, isn't it?"

Cassandra nodded, rising to her feet, though she still had her arms wrapped around her chest. "Yeah. It is."

"I brought you a makeup wipe." Jay offered, pulling one out of the pack. Cassandra smiled slightly, wiping off the trail of mascara that ran down her cheeks.

"Thanks."

"No problem. I'm just glad you're okay." Jay replied. "Hey, better this than the anger attack, right? Last time she hit one of us with that, Arya had to be sedated for almost a week."

"How could I forget?" Cassandra started to loosen up, laughing weakly. "They tried to bite my leg off."

"Yeah, that was not a good look for them." Jay agreed. "Look, we'll make the glasses out of something sturdier, and next time, we'll catch her, okay? She's not going to get away again."

"Next time." Cassandra agreed.

"But for now, let's go home. I got approval from the higher-ups for you to go home early already, don't worry." Jay said. "You can take a nice bath or something, just to shake off that panic attack."

Cassandra nodded. "Okay. That sounds nice."

"Then, maybe we can cuddle?" Jay offered.

Cassandra smiled. "You're on. As long as you don't steal my blankets again."

[m-jelly]

Soul anon yaaaal!

I loved what you did w my last request so I'm, as would Alyssa Edwards say: back back back back again!

So a Soulmate Au (oh really?), where you can see when your soulmate is in danger of dying, like you see everything w their eyes and as Levi is this badass man who is always in pre-death moments, reader constantly connects w him this way.

But, just like w the "take my pain", Levi never sees anything that connects him w his soulmate, so he has no clue who could it be.

Until someday he finally sees his soulmate is in danger, and she specifically asks for him to save her bc she saw him saving a lot of people so many times... And he has to run against time to save reader.

Happy ending as always!

Hi soul anon!! Also, I love Alyssa Edwards <3

Her eyes, his heart.

Pairing: Levi x Reader

Genre and tags: soul anon, modern AU, romance, cop Levi, fluff, angst, love, falling in love, happy ending.

Concept: Levi is always in near-death situations with his job and when he does, his soulmate sees what happens. Levi has never seen anything from his soulmate, but he knows his has been getting a lot. During a normal safe day, Levi sees through your eyes and you are begging him to help you as someone chases you down. Levi pieces together the visions and saves you just in time.

Bullets slammed into Levi's car right by his head. Levi flinched and felt his soul link in his eyes making the whites glow. He gritted his teeth as the bullets ripped through the car as he used it as cover. He could just about hear comms chatter over the sound of the gunfire.

He counted the bullets of the handgun until he knew they were out. He knelt up and twisted his body. He leaned over the hood of his car and fired at the robbers at the jewellery store. He lowered his gun and sighed when he knew it was over.

He stood up and let the smell of gunpowder, blood and dirt hit him. He scrunched up his nose a little and felt his connection go. He frowned a little in thought before clearing up the scene and calling it in and asking for an ambulance.

Levi got into his car and drove to the station with a rain cloud over his head. He called in his shot-up car and went to his office. He sat down and wrote up his report as his mind was on his soulmate. Levi had been through a lot and sent images and visions to them, but he'd never seen anything.

Hange leaned in your doorway. "Hey? You made it back."

Levi looked over at his friend. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

He frowned a little. "I send a lot of visions to my soulmate, but I've not seen a single thing from them. Does that mean I don't have one?"

They hummed. "You have one because you send them. I think it's likely that they live a very safe life."

Levi ruffled his hair. "I feel bad that I send them so much."

"I'm sure they don't mind."

"It's disturbing stuff."

Hange hummed in thought. "Well, maybe they don't do dangerous to protect you. You go through enough."

Levi blushed a little. "That's kind of them."

"It is." Hange pulled back. "I'll leave you be. Maybe you should take some time to think everything over."

"Hmm."

Levi took time off work as Hange's words fluttered around his head. He stayed safe at home so he wouldn't flood his soulmate's head with bad things. He drank calming tea, exercised and didn't push himself.

He relaxed one day in the living room of his house and felt a rush. He gasped and opened his eyes to see running and heard a woman panting. He looked around and frowned when he heard you calling out places, places he knew in the city.

He grabbed his keys, jacket, gun and badge before racing out of his apartment. "Talk to me, come on."

You panted and kept running. "Help me, please detective Ackerman! Help me! He's going to kill me!"

Levi gritted his teeth and felt helpless. He jumped into his car and raced off towards where you'd been. "Show me more."

You skidded down an alley and slammed into a door causing you to fall into an abandoned building. "Shit. Ow."

Levi turned his car down a road and knew where you were. "Hold on."

You pushed yourself up and ran into the building. You covered your mouth and slipped into a room. You crouched down and hid under broken abandoned furniture. "Help me."

Levi slammed his fist against the wheel. "Come on!" He noticed the alley you'd gone down. "Got you." He pulled up and flew out of his car and raced down the alley. "I'm coming."

You whimpered and looked out to see a man with a knife. You gasped and hid further into your hiding spot. You covered your mouth with both hands as tears filled your eyes. You screamed when the table above you was ripped away from you. You fell back and crawled away. "NO!"

Levi pulled his gun out, turned the safety off and ran into the room you were in. He gritted his teeth when he saw your attacker holding your neck with his knife raised. Levi pointed. "FREEZE POLICE! Put the FUCKING knife down!"

The man glared at Levi, then back down at you and went to stab again. "Die."

Levi fired three bullets into your attacker. He ran over and slammed into the man before he fell onto you. He turned the attacker around and cuffed him. "Piece of shit." He panted and looked over to you and felt his heart skip a beat. "You must be my soulmate."

You welled up and nodded. "I am."

"Why have you not shown me anything until now?"

You sat up and rubbed your tears. "Because you were going through enough. I tried to live a safe life, but I failed. I'm sorry."

He knelt in front of you, then pulled you into his arms. "Don't be sorry. You're so sweet to...to live a safe life...for me..." He clung to you. "I'm just glad I could save you in time."

"I knew you'd find me. I figured out you were a detective from the visions. I heard people shout you and you report your name. I knew you'd figure out where I was with my callouts."

He rubbed your back. "You did good. You did real good." He pulled back and wiped your tears. He smiled a little at you and felt the urge to kiss you. "You're beautiful."

You blushed. "You're very handsome."

He leaned closer and kissed you lightly. "I should call backup." He held you against him and called it in. He helped you up and walked with you out to his car. He pulled his jacket off and put it around you as you sat in his car with your legs out. "Do you need anything else?"

You shook your head and held his hand. "No."

He squeezed tightly. "I'm going to take care of you now, okay? I'm also going to be more careful." He crouched in front of you. "I swear."

You smiled at him. "I'm just happy you saved me."

"Can I take you on a date?"

You blushed a little and then nodded happily. "I would like that."

"It'll be safe."

You hummed a laugh. "I look forward to it."

He took your hand and kissed your fingers. "Me too."

[centaurianthropology]

On Trying Things that Make You Nervous

I think there’s a real benefit in gaining life experience, choosing to do something you wouldn’t normally do, and learning from it. I’m not particularly into guns. My job has me seeing the end result of A LOT of gun violence (my area in particular is hot for it). I know what guns do to bodies.

I don’t have a lot of first-hand experience with guns, however. My work sponsored an educational two-day session in which we could all learn from firearm and tool-mark experts at the local crime lab. Day one was lecture. Day two was the range.

I got to watch various demonstrations with live fire, in a controlled environment, by experts. They showed us what various distance shots looked like under different conditions. They showed us a professional suppressor, a pillow suppressor, and a potato suppressor (it really is just a potato on the end of a gun). They showed us various types of guns, and even lit a shirt on-fire from the fire out of a black powder revolver.

After that it was our turn. They had selected a number of guns for us to shoot. I went in thinking I would fire a handgun, and maybe something larger if I was feeling spicy.

I ended up firing a .22 pistol, a 9 mm pistol, a Walther PPK, and then graduated to a 357 magnum revolver (the most kick of any of the guns that day), an MP5 (most common submachine gun in use), an M16 assault rifle, and a WWII M3 submachine gun. And you know what? It was fun. Would I do it again? Probably not, but I am genuinely glad I did it. There is something about a tactile experience that cannot be rivalled by mere intellectual understanding. And there is something about overcoming something that made me nervous. I was worried I would do it wrong. These things are deadly and dangerous, and I was worried I would hurt myself or someone else. I was worried about the recoil, about the noise, about doing something dumb and dislocating my shoulder.

Instead, I learned a lot. I learned how it feels to fire guns. I learned that a revolver has more kickback than a pistol because the barrel is above the plane of your hand, but that I preferred the revolver because it required you to manually pull the hammer back before it was dangerous again, and once I learned to control the kick, it was sort of fun. I learned that, despite being fairly weak, I could fire all the guns without trouble so long as my stance was good (and gun stance is so different, that took me a bit, but the instructors were great). I learned that with proper ear protection, the sound is fine, but you still feel the reverberation in your chest, particularly of large shotguns. I learned that handguns are, by and large, sort of a pain in the ass with a lot of fiddly bits and sticky springs (the 9 mm was the most comfortable and user friendly one, and even that was rather annoying). I learned that, weirdly, assault rifles are easier to use, more user friendly, and frankly more fun to shoot than handguns. I was only going to fire the M16 on semi-auto (one bullet per pull of the trigger) initially, but after I fired it and realized that it, as a heavy gun, had less kick than a handgun, I was willing to load up a clip and fire full-auto. And my instructor was right: you do feel weirdly awesome after having fired full auto. It’s 100% an adrenaline response, but I got the thrill that gun enthusiasts are into.

The M3 was my favorite, though. It was old, made entirely of metal. There was no wood, no plastic. It weighed a ton. It had no semi-auto mode. This was purely automatic. It also had no safety. Once it was loaded and a round was chambered, it would fire as soon as I pulled the trigger.

Modern assault rifles and submachine guns shoot VERY fast. It’s essentially a stream of bullets with no real time to grasp what you’re doing beyond that you are firing A LOT. The M3 was slower, a steady rhythm of fire that had just enough time between shots to steady and continue firing. It was FUN to shoot.

And that was what surprised me the most. I enjoyed it a lot. I had a great time. No, I’m not going to drop a ton of money on a gun, and I still very strongly believe in regulations and better oversight on who can own guns and even what sort. Because we do that for cars, which can also be deadly weapons. We can at least do that much for guns.

But at the same time, by actually putting myself out there, I do understand an enthusiast’s passion a little more. I get why people enjoy shooting for sport or going target shooting. I get why some people collect them, or are fascinated by the mechanics and the deeply dumb appeals to machismo that gun and ammo manufacturers are constantly trying to use to draw people in.

This is obviously not for everyone, but I think the broader lesson is: we can get too into our bubbles and our comforts. Sometimes breaking out of them, trying something intimidating or new or even a little scary can open your eyes to either a new hobby or interest of your own, or at least to a deeper understanding of those who are into that hobby or interest. And conquering small fears can feel fucking amazing. Firing that assault rifle was one of the more intimidating things I’ve done in a while, and then I realized that I had been scared of nothing. It was fine. So long as I was responsible, safe, and kept a good stance and grip, it didn’t hurt, and it was even surprisingly fun.

So get out there. Maybe don’t fire assault rifles or whatever, but try something that you’ve been intimidated by. And hopefully you’ll find either new fun or at least a better understanding.

[piecesofacrow]

Her eyes fluttered open as life filled her body. Slowly sitting up, she glanced around the room at the people surrounding her. They greeted her with open arms but there were no pleasantries. They seemed angry.

“I still do not like this plan. We should have never gotten this far with it.” One shouted to the others. A few nodded in agreeance with this statement.

“We cannot allow Angel to stay out there, or whatever he calls himself now. As long as he lives, he will be a constant reminder of our...failure.” They spoke that final work with such vitriol, as if it were truly poisonous to even say. The anger in the room flared and voices rang out loudly. The woman who had just been brought to life could not make heads or tails of what they all were screaming at each other. Finally, a voice echoed out over all the others.

“SILENCE!” The room listened, following the commands of a tall woman now walking approaching the gathering of individuals. They all bowed and stepped aside. “You are gods, and you bicker like mortal men. We have what is necessary, and we will proceed as planned. You there.” The woman said, now approaching the newly birthed female who sat with confusion.

“You have a very particular mission, one that you will carry out without fail. Out in the multi-verse in another like you, a constant mark on our history. You are to seek him out and kill him. He goes by Eren.” She instructed. The woman nodded, standing up as she was ready to go already.

“You.” She said in a commanding tone, causing her to stop. She looked back at the woman. “You will be our greatest creation. You will be called Death.” She told her. With that, Death nodded and left on her mission.

Hundreds of thousands of years later, she found him, and those who followed him. His scent was clear, and this family of mortals held power that no mortal should. If she couldn’t find him, she would use those who seemed to be favored by him to get him to find her. She raised her arm up and knocked on the door.

After a few moments of silence, the door slowly opened. Before her was a much larger man, looking down at her with multicolored eyes. He gave a curious gaze.

“Can I help you?” Israel spoke. Death glanced up at him and spoke calmly.

“Where is Eren.” She demanded. He stared into her eyes.

“I’m not sure who you’re talking about.” He stated. She glared back at him. If he would not give her the answer she wanted, someone else would.

In an instant, her arm had moved. Israel’s eyes slowly widened before he was tossed aside. Death’s arm slowly changed from a blade back to her normal arm as Israel lay lifeless on the floor now, blood pouring out of his neck. She stepped inside as he collapsed.

She heard movement from upstairs and saw two figures starting to come down the stairs. A blonde girl, and a brunette girl. They both came down and stopped, eyes wide as their father lay lifeless at the entrance to their house. Both of them quickly growled, anger filling their very being as they both pulled handguns free and unloaded.

Death stood still and took the shots. They stung more than she expected. Their was a holy energy within them that she was not expecting. As the two fired, two more people showed up. A blonde boy, and a brunette boy now stood on the stairs. They both had the same reaction as their sisters upon seeing Israel laying lifeless on the ground.

Once Lucy and Sapphira had emptied their magazines, Death appeared right in front of them, reaching out and gripped their throats.

“Where is Eren.” She demanded once more. The small Brunette boy reaching out and jammed a large blade into her wrist, twisting the blade and severing it, freeing Lucy, who crouched down and lunged, tackling Death down the stairs.

After tumbling, Death hugged Lucy tight. As the blonde struggled, Death had spines grow from the front of her body, impaling Lucy in multiple places. Her struggling stopped. Sapphira let out a cry and charged forward, as did Josiah. Grabriel stood shocked before shaking his head. He needed to help his siblings.

Death stood up and Sapphira took a swing, clocking Death in the jaw. She turned her head as Sapphira shook her hand, obviously in pain. Opening her left hand she summoned forth her own handgun, placing the barrel to Sapphira’s head and pulling the trigger without a second thought.

Josiah had no idea what to do, but he knew he had to do something. He couldn’t let his family just die like this. He jumped forward and grabbed onto Death, dragging her to the ground. Her right hand had come back but he knew at the very least that she could be wounded. Using his knife, he jammed it down into her chest, once, twice, four times, eight times. Silver and gold colored blood flew from Death but she did not react in the slightest.

Gripping Josiah’s hands as he brought them down once more she stopped his assault, looking up into the boy’s eyes.

“Where. Is. Eren.” She said once more. He said nothing, only trying to shove the blade down again. In a swift movement, she redirected his blade. Josiah let out a gasp with wide eyes as he slowly glanced down, seeing his knife in his own chest. He slowly let go of it before Death put her palm on him and he felt a force throw him off of her, slamming into the stairs and slowly sliding back down. Death stood up, looking to Gabriel now. She didn’t even speak. He had heard her question.

“Fuck you, psycho bitch.” He said, placing a single shot into her forehead. Her head flung back and she stood still for a few moments, slowly bringing her head forward once more.

“So be it.” She stated, lifting her own gun and repaying the favor. Gabriel fell to his knees and crashed down the stairs. Death stood among the dead, sensing no other life in the building. She stepped outside and closed the door behind her, coming face to face with another woman, although she gave off energies more powerful than all those within the house. Each of the younger ones shared the same energy, though not nearly as strong.

“Where is Eren.” She demanded. Anna frowned, her eyes saying she was full of rage, her face showing her deep sorrow.

“I will never tell you.” She stated.

“Weakling. You will die like the rest.” Death stated, taking a step forward.

“Hell hath no fury like that of a mother’s rage.” Anna stated, putting her hand out and pulling Death into her grasp. Death could not resist the pull, finding it stronger than she believed it could be. Struggling against Anna’s grip, she attempted to free herself.

A blade appeared out of thin air within Anna’s right hand and she buried it deep within Death’s torso. The sting was like nothing she had ever felt before. Anna pulled the blade free and lifted the woman off the ground, squeezing her neck tighter and tighter.

“I may never be able to kill you, but I know he can.” Anna stated. Death felt a rage build in her chest before she reached up and grabbed hold of Anna’s wrist and crushing it, freeing herself. She fell to the ground, standing herself up quickly and stepping forward, grabbing hold of Anna’s head with both hands. Anna did not look away as Death twisted, snapping the angel’s neck. She fell, but her life did not cease. No angel could die so simply.

Death pulled Anna’s blade free and was about to stab it down but was stopped as a sudden energy appeared in front of her, holding the blade still. Death looked slowly up to the face of the one she had been hunting for her entire life.

“Eren.” She said calmly.

“You’ve overstepped girl. For that you will die.” He responded.

“Your creators demand your life. I intend on taking it for them.”

“You cannot hope to defeat the likes of me.”

“I was made to destroy you, and will not fail in my life’s mission. You will fail here today and I will bring your corpse before those who created you. The shame you have brought to them will be your downfall.”

“That will be your epitaph.”

Eren quickly jumped back, his arm shifting to a blade as he then charged forward. Death did the same, and their blades clashed. Despite the calm look on Eren’s face, a flame was raging inside him. He intended on ending this here, and now.

Moving faster than the human eye could perceive, they attacked each other, blocking blows and attempting counter attacks. One little mistake was all it took and neither would give an inch.

To them, the battle seemed to last for hours, but in reality, only about a minute had passed. With a quick duck, Eren avoided getting sliced in half, and he pushed his arm forward and up, standing quickly with it. His blade found a new home deep within Death’s chest. Despite her wounds she had put up one hell of a fight.

“Do you know what happens when creatures such as us die?” Eren questioned as she trembled. “There is no afterlife for angels or demons. You will simply vanish deep into the void, and your memories, all the things you learned and knew, will vanish, never to be seen again.”

Death said nothing. For the first time ever, fear filled her eyes.

“Goodbye, whoever you are. You have made the final mistake.” He told her, ripping his arm to the side, cutting her through. Her body collapsed, and then there was nothing.

[crystalclearwaters1]

Family Ties Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Krystal hauled herself out of bed the next morning and rummaged through her closet for something to wear. She pulled on some black denim jeans and a white tank top, over which she wore an oversized, button-up black-and-white plaid shirt. She finished the look with her black Converse shoes. She could hear movement and voices in the kitchen, and the sound of the shower being shut off, indicating that the others were already up. She exited her bedroom and wandered into the kitchen.

“Morning everyone,” she mumbled. She was not a morning person. She shuffled over and gave Murphy a hug.

“Forgive me if this joke is in poor taste considering the current state of the world,” he said, running his fingers through her long dark-brown hair. “But you look like a zombie, kid.”

“That’s ‘cause my brain’s not functioning yet,” she retorted, going over to the table and flopping into a chair. “Just gimme a couple of hours and I’ll be fine.” Just down the hall, 10K emerged from the bathroom. His hair was freshly washed, and he wore nothing but his camouflage pants. Krystal felt a heat rush through her, and she blinked, shook her head, and suddenly became fascinated by the kitchen floor. 10K joined them in the kitchen soon after, having put on a black t-shirt and his boots.

Once breakfast was over, Krystal felt much more human. While Doc and Murphy were setting up for a game of poker, Addy approached her.

“Hey, Krys,” she said. “Can we talk?”

“Sure,” Krystal agreed. the two girls retreated into Krystal’s bedroom and sat down on the bed.

“So,” Addy began. “What’s going on with you and 10K?” Krystal’s heart skipped a beat and she blinked.

“Uh…nothing,” she spluttered, trying to cover up her nerves. “Should there be something going on?”

“If you want it to,” Addy replied slyly. When Krystal didn’t say anything, she gave her a gentle smile and continued. “C’mon Krys, I’ve seen the way you look at him. I’ve seen how he looks at you, too.”

“What?” Krystal squeaked. “He…okay, I’m not gonna deny it. What do you think I should do?”

“Honestly? I think you should go for it.”

“But…I mean, we hardly know each other…”

“Honey, it’s the apocalypse,” Addy laughed kindly.  “I think the normal rules of dating are out the window at this point. Mack and I never officially ‘dated’; we just sort of…happened.”

“Really?”

“Mm-hmm. He saved me from a bunch of Z’s at a hockey game at the start of the outbreak. It was just the two of us from then on, until we met Warren and Doc and Garnett.”

“Who?” Krystal had never heard that name before.

“Oh. Charles Garnett,” Addy explained. “He was sort of our leader for a while, but we…lost him.”

“Z’s?” Krystal asked.

“Nope, he was shot. He died a hero, though.”

“Really? What happened?”

“Um…long story short, someone tried to shoot Murphy and Garnett took the bullet for him.”

“Oh, my God.” Krystal tried not to imagine her uncle being shot at.

“Yeah, he was a good guy. It broke Warren’s heart to have to mercy him.”

“Mercy?”

“Oh, yeah,” Addy said, realizing that Krystal was probably unfamiliar with their slang. “It’s what we call it when we have to kill zombies – giving them mercy. You know, because being dead is better than…being like that.”

“Hmm,” Krystal agreed. “It sure would be.”

“Anyway, think about what I said. I think you two would be great together.”

Addy winked, and left Krystal to take some time to herself, to figure out what she wanted to do.

~*~

10K approached Krystal the following morning after breakfast. He had his black weapons bag slung over his shoulder.

“Hey, Krys,” he said. “Can you come outside with me? I’ve got something to show you.”

“Sure,” she replied, following him out into the backyard. They stood behind the tree near the back fence, a good distance away from the house.

“I have something for you,” 10K said, reaching into the bag and pulled out a sleek black 9mm Beretta handgun.

“I’ve had this as part of my arsenal for a while, but I want you to have it,” 10K said. “Your scythe is great, but it’s always good to have a secondary weapon.”

He handed it to her, letting her get a feel for it. She was surprised at how comfortable she felt holding it.

“I love it,” she said. “Where’d you get it?”

“Salvaged it off a dead security guard at a mall,” 10K explained. “Ever used one before?”

“Not a Beretta,” she said. “I’ve used a Glock, though.”

“Okay, well, they’re not too different,” he said. “I’ll give you a lesson, though, just so you can get comfortable with this one.”

He moved to stand beside her.

“Okay, we’re gonna start with your grip,” he said. “With your dominant hand, tuck your last three fingers under the trigger guard with your palm as high on the backstrap as possible.”

“Like this?” Krystal asked.

“Yeah, perfect,” he approved. “Now, with your left hand, rotate your wrist so your fingers are pointing down and your thumb is lined up with the barrel. Then, wrap your fingers around under the trigger guard. Perfect, you’re a natural.”

Krystal’s stomach fluttered as he praised her.

“Grip it tight with both hands so that when you shoot it doesn’t recoil too much.”

She tightened her grip a little, until it felt secure.

“Okay,” 10K said. “Next is your stance. Hold the gun at arm’s length and lean forward a bit so your weight is on your toes. Keep your feet apart, about the same width as your shoulders.”

Krystal shuffled her legs a bit until her feet were in the correct position.

“Okay, let’s give it a shot. Pun fully intended,” 10K said with a smirk. “Aim at your target.”

It was then that Krystal noticed that he had lined up a few tin cans on top of the backyard fence. Krystal aimed at one of them, trying to keep her hands from shaking.

“Take a deep breath, and let it out slowly.” Krystal breathed in, and blew out through slightly pursed lips.

“Okay, now squeeze the trigger.”

She obeyed. A shot rang out, followed by a loud clang as the can was knocked off the fence.

“Oh, my God, I hit it!”

“Damn, that was really good,” 10K said, his tone a blend of surprise and approval. “Let’s go again.”

Krystal fired again. The second can flipped in the air as it was struck and fell to the ground.

“Holy shit, that was awesome,” 10K laughed. “Hey, Murphy! You gotta come see this!”

“What?” Murphy asked, appearing at the back door. 10K waved him over, and he came down the steps to join them. 10K gave Krystal a nod, and she fired off three more shots.

“Crap, I missed the third one,” she groused.

“Damn, girl, remind me never to get on your bad side,” Murphy said, impressed.

“Just don’t start telling any embarrassing stories from my childhood and we won’t have a problem,” Krystal said with a grin.

“Deal.”

“See, you’re a natural,” 10K said.

“Well, you’re also a great teacher,” Krystal replied. He grinned and his face flushed pink again.

He disappeared back inside the house, while Krystal and Murphy sat together on the grass beneath the tree, beside her mother’s grave. She watched as he placed a hand on the disturbed earth where her mother was buried.

“Love you, sis,” he said in a low tone. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here.”

Her heart aching at the pain in his voice, Krystal moved close and rested her chin on her uncle’s shoulder.  They sat in silence for a while until they heard the back door open. Doc and 10K stepped out onto the back porch. Krystal’s stomach fluttered strangely when she saw 10K. She shook her head a little, ignoring the sensation, and followed her uncle back to the house.

“You good, Murph?” Doc asked gently, noticing Murphy’s subdued demeanour. He nodded, and Doc passed him a hand-rolled cigarette. He lit it up, and Krystal noticed the smell immediately. She’d never tried weed before, but she knew what it smelled like thanks to her mother’s habit.

Well, if I’m ever gonna get a chance to try it, I guess there’s no time like the Apocalypse, she thought to herself.

“Can I have some?” she asked, giving Doc her best puppy-dog look.  “Pleeeease?”

“Better ask your uncle,” Doc grinned.

“Go ahead,” Murphy chuckled. “You’re nineteen, I don’t care what you do.” Doc lit up another joint and passed it to her.

“Don’t inhale too much at first,” Doc warned her. She took a drag and coughed as the smoke tickled her throat. The smoke was hot and slightly earthy, and it made her chest burn a little at first.

“Tastes like…I don’t even know,” she said, coughing again. The affects crept on slowly at first, before they hit her solidly. Her entire body felt heavy, as though she was being weighed down.

“Oh, hello gravity,” she laughed. She flopped down beside 10K on the porch swing, giggling. She gasped as she suddenly realised something.

“Hey, I never thanked you properly for saving me the other day,” she told him. “That was a damn good shot.”

“You’re welcome,” he replied with a grin, taking a puff from his own joint and relaxing back into the cushioned seat of the porch swing.

“Seriously, you’re a legend,” Krystal said. She looked up at Doc and Murphy. “Have you seen this guy shoot? He’s like Annie Oakley, but y’know…not a chick.” 10K apparently found this remark very amusing and dissolved into laughter, which in turn set Krystal off.

“Doc, what did you do to my niece?” Murphy said, although he was laughing too. “I think you broke her. What’s in this stuff?”

“Nothin’, just plaid ordinary weed,” Doc insisted.

“Don’t worry Uncle Murph, it’s just a little buzz,” Krystal insisted.

“Honey, you’re not just buzzing,” Murphy said. “You’re an entire freaking beehive.”

“Bzzzz,” Krystal responded, giggling again. She swung her legs up onto the arm of the swing, resting her head in 10K’s lap.

“You’re my pillow now,” she told him matter-of-factly, taking another pull on her joint. “You’re not allowed to move.”

“M’kay,” he agreed. Krystal noticed his face flushing slightly pink again.

Aww, he’s blushing, she thought. Lifting her hand up as high as gravity would allow, she poked him gently on the tip of his nose. Her hand then flopped back down, slapping her in the face.

“Ow,” she complained, glaring at her hand as though it had consciously attacked her. Doc, Murphy and 10K laughed.

“Well,” Murphy said after a while. “We’d better get back inside before Warren sends out a search party.”

Krystal tried to sit up, but gravity wouldn’t allow it. She flopped back down onto 10K’s lap.

“I don’t think I can move,” she whined.

“Well, I can’t carry you, you’re not five years old anymore,” Murphy replied. “When did you get so grown up? Damn it, I’ve missed out on so much…”

“Six years,” Krystal agreed. Her chest felt tight as the emotions bubbled up inside her, which blamed on the weed. “Six years since we last saw each other. Fucking justice system.”

Doc clapped Murphy on the back and led him back inside, while Krystal and 10K struggled to their feet. 10K draped Krystal’s arm over his muscular shoulder and helped her back inside. Warren, Mack and Addy were seated at the dining table. Warren looked up as the four of them entered the room.

“How high are you guys right now?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Considerably,” Murphy replied. This sent Krystal into a fit of giggles again.

“You should probably lie down,” 10K said.

“You are correct, sir,” she agreed. 10K half-carried her into her bedroom and laid her down on the bed. She felt like she was sinking into the mattress. It wasn’t an altogether pleasant sensation.

“Don’t let the bed eat me,” she pleaded with 10K.

“It’s not gonna eat you,” the boy reassured her gently.

“How come you’re not all…wooooo?” Krystal asked, twirling her finger around her head in a ‘loopy’ gesture.

“I guess it just doesn’t hit me as hard,” 10K replied with a grin. He sounded like he was suppressing a laugh. “This is your first time; it’s bound to feel weird. Just try to sleep it off. I’ll come check on you later.”

“M’kay.”

As his footsteps faded down the hallway, Krystal rolled over onto her side and began to drift off.

~*~

When 10K returned to check on her a few hours later, the high had worn off and had been replaced by an intense feeling of hunger.

“I think I just found out what the munchies feels like,” she said. “Damn I’m starving.”

“Good thing dinner’s ready, then,” he chuckled. She jumped up and followed him eagerly to the kitchen.

When the meal was over and her high and worn off, Krystal helped Warren with the dishes.

“I’m gonna go check the generator,” she said when they were done, opening the interior door that led to the garage.

“I’ll give you a hand,” Mack said. He followed her down the three steps into the garage, which was mostly well-kept but a little dusty. Since living alone, Krystal never bothered to clean up in there.

She and Mack examined the generator, and established that it was still in good working order. As Krystal stepped back away from it, her heel connected with something on the floor under one of the shelves on the wall.  There was the distinct clinking sound of glass bottles bumping together. Krystal looked down to see a large cardboard box, mostly hidden under an old, battered, slightly mouldy shower curtain.

��What the hell?” she muttered, lifting up the shower curtain to investigate. The box was filled with bottles of premixed Jack and Coke, and two six packs of beer. “Are you kidding me?”

“What?” Mack asked.

“I think I just found the secret stash of booze my mom had hidden down here,” she said, picking up one of the bottles and examining it. “’Trying to quit drinking’ my ass.”

“Nice find,” Mack said. “Might as well make use of it.”

“Good point. Guess we’re having a party tonight,” Krystal agreed. Mack picked up the box and carried it back up the stairs.  

~*~ The party was in full swing. Music was playing – loud enough to be heard but not so loud that it would attract Z’s – and everyone was drinking and having a good time. Krystal and 10K were sitting together on one of the two couches in the living room. Feeling warm and fuzzy from the bottle of Jack and Coke she was drinking, Krystal worked up the courage to take Addy’s advice.

“So, 10K, you come here often?” She asked. “Wait, of course you don’t, this is my house. God, I’m so bad at this!” Addy giggled from her spot next to Mack on the other couch.

“Bad at what?” 10K asked. Then he blinked, looking surprised. “Are you…flirting with me?”

“Trying to,” she admitted. She giggled as his face flushed pink. “Ha, made you blush!”

“Go easy on him Krys, 10K’s not very experienced with girls, are ya kid?” Murphy said with a laugh.

“Leave him alone, Murphy,” Warren reprimanded him with a grin.

“Just stating the facts, Roberta.”

“So, 10K, tell me about yourself,” Krystal continued the conversation, ignoring her uncle’s antics.

“What do you want to know?” He asked, taking a swig from his own Jack and Coke.

“Anything. Like... what were you doing when everything went to shit?”

He hesitated, sharing a quick glance with Doc, but then told her everything about having to kill his own father before he turned. Krystal was momentarily struck dumb. 

“Wow,” she finally managed to find her voice again. “Shit, 10K, I’m sorry. I had to do the same to my mom…”

“You did?”

“Yeah. She died of an overdose, and then she turned, so…”

“Damn,” he said, looking at her with sympathy in his eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

“I guess that’s one thing we have in common, huh?”

“Yeah…so, okay, my turn,” he swiftly changed the subject to lighten the mood. “What’s it like being Murphy’s niece?”

“Be careful how you answer that one, Krys,” Murphy said teasingly.

“Hey, quit eavesdropping, you,” she told him off with a laugh. She threw a couch cushion at him, which he promptly caught. “We’ve always been close, although we didn’t see each other as much as I would’ve liked to, since he and my Dad weren’t exactly best buds. I was thirteen when he went to prison.”

“Oh, yeah. Hey Murphy, what were you in prison for anyway?”

“I was an entrepreneur whose company underperformed due to market conditions that were beyond my control,” Murphy replied, puffing out his chest a bit.

“Uh…huh.” 10K blinked.

“Postal fraud, kid. Punishable by five years’ imprisonment,” Murphy explained more clearly. “I was two years in when the apocalyptic shit hit the fan. Hey, who’s up for a game of poker?”

“Ah, what the hell, why not?” Warren said. She and Doc followed Murphy to the dining table, leaving the four younger members of the group to hang out together. Soon, the four of them were on their feet, dancing as though Krystal’s living room was a nightclub. Addy and Mack were twirling around on the spot, and 10K had his arms around Krystal’s waist. The alcohol had apparently helped to relax him, as well.

Addy shot Krystal a look from over Mack’s shoulder. Krystal took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. She wrapped her arms around 10K’s neck, and stood on her toes in an attempt to match his height. She pulled his head down a bit, and before she knew it her lips were pressed against his. He paused momentarily, before leaning into the kiss, just as enthusiastically. The closer he leaned in, the more she pulled him toward her, until the two of them fell onto the couch in a heap. Addy and Mack cheered.

“Get a room, you two,” Murphy called from the dining table. He was trying to sound intimidating, but Krystal detected the hint of a laugh in his voice.

“Gladly, it’s getting late anyway,” she said hurriedly, pulling 10K to his feet. “Good night!” She grabbed him by the hand and lead him to her bedroom. He kicked off his shoes and pulled off his shirt, until he wore nothing but his cargo pants. She looked him up and down, biting her bottom lip. He looked away as she undressed and pulled on her oversized Metallica t-shirt and then the two of them crawled into her bed.

“You know that song you played the other night?” 10K asked, running his fingers through her hair as she lay with her head on his chest.

“The Trisha Yearwood one?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah?”

“It kind of…resonated with me.”

“Really?” She lifted her head a little and looked up at him.

“Yeah. My real name’s Tommy.” It only occurred to her now that she’d never asked what his real name was, nor had any the others mentioned it.

“It is? Really?”

“Yeah. Well, it was, before the apocalypse,” he said. “I don’t use it anymore. The others don’t even know.”

“Huh. Tommy. I guess that could be our song then, huh?”

He smiled, and nodded eagerly.

“Will you go back to it, after you kill 10,000 Z’s?”

“Nah, I’m gonna change it.”

“To what?” Krystal asked.

“Jeff,” he said, matter-of-factly. “I like the name Jeff.”

Krystal smiled and laid her head back down in the curve where his neck met his shoulder.

“I like the name Jeff too.”

[deliriousgeek]

Thomas Shelby x Wife Reader

Summary: A quiet evening meant for celebration is thrown into chaos. Y/n wills herself to play into the daunting role that comes with being Thomas Shelby’s wife, because it might be the only thing keeping her alive. 

Masterlist

Tommy lowkey feels very oc so idk how to feel about that. im not good at writing suspense...its also very long. ha :,)

Warning: blood, guns, knives, fights, usual peaky blinder violence

If anyone knew Y/n Shelby, then they would know that she can’t stand seeing dead bodies. Although in her case, having that reaction would seem ironic, considering her husband was Thomas Shelby. 

It was around 9pm when Y/n slipped her night robe off and lay back on her bed. Her night was just winding down and she was waiting for Thomas to get back. He said he would try to be home around midnight, and to not wait up. He and his brothers would be at the Garrison, celebrating Arthur’s return from prison and discussing what was to be done with the Jews and Italians next. 

Y/n knew it would be a couple hours for Tommy to be home, so she settled onto their bed and grabbed a book off her night stand. 

The room was bathed in a warm, orange and yellow light— the type of light candles can give. When she was home alone, Y/n liked to use candle light. It reminded her of a time before the war and before this gang business, when all she and Tommy had to worry about was getting enough candles to light up the dinner table. 

Half an hour had passed and Y/n had gotten through a decent number of pages in her book. She felt her eyes drooping and decided it was time to call it a night. She stretched and cracked her neck before turning to place her book on the nightstand. Just as she was about to place the book down, she heard a creak downstairs. 

She froze.

Tommy wasn’t supposed to be back until midnight and none of the Shelby family would come over this late without a call, that was their safety protocol. 

She listened for more creaking. 

After Tommy had bought their house he had insisted on replacing the creaky floor boards, but decided to keep a few. In certain spots, that could be easily avoided if one knew where to walk, the floor would still creak. It was a safety thing that Tommy and Y/n agreed would be good to have. If the floorboards downstairs still creaked after the first step, it wasn’t one of them. 

Creak...creak...creak...

That wasn’t Tommy. 

Y/n took in a deep breath as she put herself back into a sitting position on the bed. An intruder was in her house. At the moment, the Peaky Blinders had a lot of enemies. It could be anyone. Mostly, someone with a gun. 

She listened as the person made their way upstairs. She could hear them passing Tommy’s office, and the guest bedroom. This person knew where their room was, and she could only deduce from their movement’s that they were coming for her. 

Y/n was scared. She knew how to defend herself, but didn’t like doing it if she didn’t have to. Rolling her shoulders, she prepared herself for the inevitable. She’d have to fight tonight. 

To be clear, Y/n Shelby wasn’t unable to fight. She was a pro at throwing knives, which she preferred to guns; much to Tommy’s dismay. She knew how to shoot a gun and could decently fare in hand to hand combat, but she was still scared. Her heart beat in her chest quickly and anxiety bubbled to the surface. A normal reaction to knowing someone broke into your house to hurt you, or worse. Y/n assumed it was the latter. However, instead of letting her fear show, she turned on her fake calmness. A trick she forced herself to learn as Thomas Shelby’s wife. The alarm that was spread across her face vanished, instead being replaced with an eerily calm facade.

There was no point in locking the door. The person knew how to get past those if he made it into their living room. She heard their steps stop at the front of her door, she raised her book to her face, pretending like she was reading.

Act calm. She told herself.

Then, the door burst open.

Back at the pub, the Shelby brothers  were sitting around the table in the snug. Sharing laughs and taking on their third round of Whiskey.

“Alright boys,” Tommy began, placing his glass down and looking around the table. “We’ve had our fun, business begins now.” His content expression turned serious. 

His other brothers, and cousin Michael, cleared their throats and straightened up. 

“As you know, taking Arthur out of prison is a direct threat to the Sabini’s. It shows that even in London we have enough influence to get our own men out, if needed.”

The brothers nodded, and shared looks.

Tommy continued, “Getting Arthur out was our first move. Now it’s the Italian’s and the Jew’s turn but we don’t know when their next strike will be. So, from this moment on we have to be aware, alert, and ready for every—”

The door flew open.

Sir!” Out of breath, Isaiah stood with one hand on the door knob, looking at Tommy. 

“Oi!” Arthur shouted. “You know better than to interrupt!” 

Tommy nodded his head at Arthur, then turned to Isaiah. “What is it, lad.”

“Better be important,” John added. 

“Sir, the Italians are here. My dad spotted them making their way down the lane. They got a group with guns and a car. We best hurry.” Isaiah said in a rushed voice.

With that all the Shelby men stood and placed their caps on, rushing out of the snug. 

Upon noticing the urgency in which the brothers exited, the rest of the Peaky Blinders in the pub were at full alert, waiting for Tom’s next words. The crowd silenced as the brothers stood at the snug doors, facing the onlookers. 

“If you aren’t a Peaky Blinder,” Tom eyed the crowd, “leave.” 

Noise filled the bar again as chairs shuffled, cups were placed on tables, and the front doors opened and closed.

Tom didn’t speak again until there were only Peaky Blinders left. He pulled out his revolver and checked it, making sure there were bullets, before looking up again. 

“Battle formation, men. The Italians are here.” 

Then in a flurry of peaky hats and over coats, the rest of the men got into their positions. Some ran up the stairs to get the extra cases of shotguns and revolvers. Others pulled out their own handguns and checked them as well. The Shelby boys looked at each other, a silent way of saying ‘good luck’. 

Once Tommy deemed every one armed, he nodded to Arthur, who shouted to move out. 

The Shelbies were at the front, while everyone fell behind them in triangle formation. As they marched outside, they could see the group of Italians rounding the corner. 

It was rather intimidating. An outline of men and guns on shoulders, a rather sizable group at that, illuminated by the truck headlights that followed behind. It was a sight to see.

Darby Sabini stood at the front, a shotgun slung over his shoulder.

As the groups marched towards each other and came to a stop, a man behind Thomas called out to the front. “At your command Sergeant Major.”

A hushed tone of agreement spread throughout the group.

Darby stepped forward. “Thought you could come on our turf and get away with it, aye?” 

Tommy stepped forward as well, hands in his pockets. “It was meant as a friendly gesture, but I don’t think you have enough friends to know what that means.”

A small smirk made its way onto Tommy’s face as he stared Darby down. 

Darby narrowed his eyes, irritated at that remark. “I’ll show you what friendly means. Now!”

A hail of gunfire began and the sound of shots being fired filled the lane. It was chaos. Bullets flew and body’s fell. Punches were thrown and blood was spread. More men jumped out of the covered truck and ran to beat down the men on the other side. 

Tommy ducked and punched, kicked and shot. In the middle of punching a man in the gut he yelled, “Leave Darby for me!”

His men did just that. 

Thomas fought his way to the center of the fight, where Darby had just knocked out a Peaky Blinder. Tommy aimed his gun and walked forward, aiming at Darby. The fighting on both sides ceased.

“I didn’t bring a battalion to your town.” Tommy spoke clearly, in a raised voice. 

Darby aimed his gun as well. The two circled each other as men on both sides stopped to observe the interaction. They watched Tommy and Darby tread carefully, like two tentative predators waiting for their opposer to falter.

“You still showed up. That was enough.”

The two men were breathing heavily, a result from the brawls they just finished.

“What’s your purpose for being here, Sabini?” Thomas stopped pacing, his gun still firmly held up. 

Darby stopped as well. An obnoxious laugh left his lips. “Isn’t it obvious?”

Tommy didn’t move. He held a blank face, but his eyes still watched Darby with intensity. 

Not waiting for a response Darby continued, “I’m reminding you that I can take away everything you have in an instant. I already put your brother in jail, which it seems wasn’t a good enough warning for you, since you stupidly had him released so quickly.”

Darby took a couple steps toward Thomas, gun raised. 

“Killing me won’t do anything. I got people in place to still ruin you.” Thomas stated, his tone flat. 

Darby lowered his gun, a sickly calm smile spread across his face. It was an unsettling sight that made Tommy begin to think something was off.

“Oh Tommy boy, I’m just the distraction,” Darby’s eyes noticeably darkened, “How’s your wife these days?”

Tommy’s eyes widened and his finger pulled the trigger.

Darby fell to the ground dead, a bullet was lodged in the center of his forehead. 

Then like a wave, the fighting began again.

As soon as the gunshot rang, Tommy saw red. He shot, punched, kicked or swung at anyone in his way as he fought to get out of the crowd. He didn’t bother shouting an explanation to his brothers as he ran to his car. 

Tommy shoved his keys into the ignition and started the car. Tommy slammed his foot on the gas as soon as the engine roared to life. The car’s lights illuminated the carnage left from the battle. The Peaky Blinders were the last ones standing, as Tommy expected, but paid no mind to. His thoughts too consumed with conjuring the hundreds of horrible possibilities he might see upon arriving home, all ending with a bloodied image of Y/n.

John and Arthur ran towards the car, causing Thomas to slam on the breaks. 

“Where are you going?” John asked urgently. 

“They’re going for Y/n.” Thomas hastily replied.

John and Arthur jumped on the side of the car just in time before Tommy could speed up again. 

Michael and Finn watched as the older Shelby boys passed them. 

“Great. So we’re left to clean up the mess.”

At the house, Y/n held her book to her face as the door burst open. She turned her head and was met with the sight of a man pointing a gun at her. His clothes were clean and he looked very young. Her eyes flitted from the gun to his shoes, then to his eyes, then back to the gun. 

“On your feet.” He demanded. 

“What?” Y/n feigned innocence, despite her struggle to keep calm.

The man, gun still held towards her, trudged over and ripped the book from her hands, throwing it onto the floor. 

“I said on your feet!” He yelled in her face, backing away so he was a few feet from the bed.

She stared into his eyes, an impassive look on her face. Y/n looked back down at the gun. 

With a purse of her lips and a shrug she stated, “I’d rather not.”

The man’s soldier esc demeanor nearly slipped at her blatant defiance of his orders. “It’s not an option lady! Get up.”

She chuckled. “Y’see, lad. I’ve been on my feet all day. Have you ever worn heels for over six hours? Rather painful you know.”

Her cocky attitude betrayed her quickly beating heart that was full of adrenaline.

In an effort to scare her, he menacingly stepped forward. “I ain’t afraid to hurt you lady, but the boss wants you alive. If you keep disobeying me, I'm allowed to use force.”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh really, and who is your boss? I must thank him for not wanting me dead.” 

She knew she was playing with her life, but if this boy was as inexperienced as he looked, she would get the information she needed to warn Tommy. Granted, if she got out of this situation. 

“Sabini.” The man bluntly answered. 

Y/n swallowed. This wasn’t good. If Sabini’s men were here and not in London, she needed to warn Thomas immediately. Her heart pumped faster than she thought possible and every nerve in her body was on the verge of trembling from fear.

“I see.” Y/n turned her head to the foot of the bed. “Well, like I said, I’d rather not get up. Matter of fact, I’d rather keep reading. So be a dear and hand me my book, would ya?” She was stalling.

“C’mon lady, stop being stubborn. You don't even got a weapon to be making these demands.” The man sneered.

Y/n slowly adjusted herself so that she scooted away from the pillows that propped her up. She straightened her legs on the bed, her left crossed over her right. Then she leaned back on her arms, purposely pushing up her chest to show off her unbinded chest. Hopefully, he’d be dumb enough to look at her distraction, and he was. 

“Ah, well. It was worth a shot. I can tell that you're new to this whole— kidnapping thing. If you want to get better at it then you should learn this.” She paused before looking back at the man, “Always do research on your target.”

The young man’s brows furrowed, obviously confused. 

“If you did your research, like a good little gangster,” She began as she slid her left leg up off her right, causing her silk nightgown to slowly expose her leg. The man’s eyes roamed her leg once she stopped moving, leaving her left leg in a bent position. She reached for the hem of the dress and raised it further up her left leg, stopping until it got to her mid thigh, “Then you would know, that I’m always armed.”

In a swift and well practiced motion, Y/n grabbed the sharp, throwing knife from her thigh holster, and threw. The knife landed in the man’s chest, in his heart. Looking down at the knife, the man stumbled backwards, tripping over his own feet and falling onto his back. Blood quickly formed a growing splotch of red on his shirt. Y/n quickly stood from the bed to remove the gun from the man’s hand, she then crouched over him. 

She placed her hand on the knife handle, “It was a shame you didn’t do your research.” Then she pushed the knife forward, until she felt through the blade that it had really punctured his heart.

Y/n stood over the man’s body, gun in her hand, and watched the blood puddle grow. She backed away until her knees hit the bed and gave way. Letting out a shaky breath, she sat with the gun in her lap. In an attempt to avoid looking at the body laid in front of her, Y/n stared at the ceiling. 

The adrenaline began to wear off, and the reality of the situation dawned on her. She could have died, quite easily too. If her attacker had not been so inexperienced and if she wasn’t wanted brought back alive, she could have died. Then, she thought of her husband.

Tommy. 

Had the man lying dead on her carpet opened the door and shot, Tommy would have had to come home to her dead body instead. The thought of Tommy finding her body, cold and bloody, scared her more than death. She couldn’t imagine the pain of him being alone. He would blame himself for her death. He would say he couldn’t protect her, and he would loathe himself for the rest of his life. Tears began to prick her eyes and her throat tightened. She squeezed her eyes shut, willing the tears to go away and for her erratic heart beat to calm down. 

She killed a man.

That’s the only thought she could process. Her emotions muddled her thinking. Never before had she used her knives to kill. She used guns, from far away. She used punches to knock people out. She used her knives to injure, but never before had she needed them to kill. She was slightly glad for the memory of Tommy coming back home from an errand, returning with the thin knife holster that he insisted she wear when he wasn’t home. She was also glad that she made it a rule for herself to never take it off unless Tommy was home with her. 

Then, the silence of the house was broken again. She flinched. This time, the sound came from the front door slamming open and muffled shouts that she could only register as her name. 

“Y/n! Y/n where are you?” The voice shouted.

She couldn’t pinpoint who it was, not in her boggled state of mind, but she knew it was safe. So she answered. 

“In the bedroom.” 

Her eyes were still shut and her head faced the ceiling when Tommy rushed in.

“Y/n.” His voice was slightly breathless as he took in the sight before him. 

The room was covered in warm, candle light, giving a complete opposite tone to the tense atmosphere. His wife sat on the bed with a gun in her lap. A man, with his wife’s knife in his chest, laid dead on the ground and a puddle of blood surrounded his wound. 

Y/n opened her eyes and looked at her husband. She could see the fear and worry that filled his eyes, his face in slight shock.

Thomas was relieved to see his wife unharmed, but he could see the tears that were threatening to fall. Her slumped shoulders were signs of exhaustion. The way her chest moved up and down with heavy breathes told him she was on the verge of holding herself together. 

Arthur and John came bounding up the stairs next, and found their places on either side of Thomas. 

Y/n’s voice came out void of emotion, but her teary eyes said it all. “One of Sabini’s men.” She stated before turning her eyes to the ceiling once more, trying to blink away tears. “Please get him out of my sight.” The growing puddle of blood made her want to throw up. 

“You heard her,” Thomas said in a low tone, staring at his wife with concerned eyes. “Get rid of ‘em.” His voice was just above a whisper.

Arthur and John stepped forward, grabbing the man by his arms and lugged him out of the room. Only once the man had been removed did Thomas walk towards his wife. Only when he wrapped his arms around her did she let herself cry. She let herself sob and express how truly scared she was when the man burst into her room, and pointed a gun to her head. 

Thomas held her close and kissed her head. He whispered in her ear that she was okay, and that she did what she needed to do. Holding her close, he told her he loved her, and promised to never let anything like that happen to her again. 

Masterlist

well I tried

Edit: Bro this blew up in less than a day with 41 notes. Thank you♡

[offender42085]

Post 0206

Kyle Wesley Navin, Connecticut inmate 412375, born 1988, incarceration intake at age 27, scheduled for release 12/1/2070.

Murder

Kyle Navin was sentenced o 55 years in prison for the 2015 murders of his parents, Westport refuse company owners who authorities said were poised to stop financially supporting their son and to cut him out of their will.

“It’s disgraceful and disgusting, everything from the beginning, on my account,” Navin told Judge Robert J. Devlin Jr. before the sentencing in Bridgeport Superior Court.

Jeffrey and Jeanette Navin of Easton were last seen Aug. 4, 2015, and were reported missing Aug. 7, 2015, by relatives. Kyle Navin, was the last to see each alive and was charged with their murders after their remains were found in October 2015 behind a vacant home in Weston. Both had been fatally shot with a .40-caliber handgun.

Navin initially told the judge he did not want to say anything, complaining he’s become a “show pony for the media.” Navin plead guilty to two counts of murder, shortly after Devlin denied more than two dozen defense motions that sought to limit the evidence prosecutors Joseph T. Corradino and Michael DeJoseph could present to jurors.

Devlin told Navin that killing his parents was a “black-hearted crime” and suggested to Navin that the crime of killing one’s parents is so exceedingly rare, it might explain some of the press attention. Killing one’s mother and father, Devlin said, “cuts against the fundamental characteristic of the human condition.”

Since 1986, Devlin said, there have been tens of thousands of murders in the United States, but only 113 cases of someone killing their mother.

The victims, the judge said, were ordinary people. They owned a small business. Jeanette Navin was a school librarian. They belonged to a book club.

“This is a horrific crime,” Devlin said. “There’s no other way to describe it. I mean, honestly, one can only imagine the horror of Jeanette Navin when her son pulls a gun on her and shoots her as she sat in that car.”

The judge then told Navin, “for killing your father, Jeffrey Navin, I sentence you to 55 years. For killing you mother, Jeanette Navin, I sentence you to a concurrent term of 55 years.”

Corradino, in brief comments to the judge, said it was important that Navin pleaded guilty to his crimes. “It’s very easy for somebody in this situation to say, ‘Oh, it was the drugs,’ and to join the chorus of self-appointed victimhood.” Many people appear in court to be sentenced for crimes they commit while on drugs, but few are of the magnitude of Navin’s crimes, he said.

“This crime arises out of pure … evil intention,” he said. “It arises out of greed. It arises out of the avarice for the assets of the family. It’s driven by the gluttonous impulses related to drugs, but it’s much, much more than that.”

Jeanette Navin’s brother, Tom Baldesi, said his sister was a good-hearted person who could be counted on to do anything for anyone. Jeanette Navin’s friend, Cheryl Churchill, said Navin and her husband loved their son and were deeply pained by his drug problems.

“We worried together about how they couldn’t get Kyle the help he so desperatly needed but would not accept,” Churchill said. In the final weeks of his life, Jeffrey Navin wasn’t his normal witty and funny self. “He was so concerned about Kyle he would think of nothing else,” she said.

Navin, dressed in orange prison coveralls, show no emotion as the prosecutor, his uncle and his parents’ friend spoke. Several more friends and relatives were seated in the courtroom.

Under the terms of the plea agreement, Navin will not be eligible for parole or early release.

At the April plea hearing, which occurred just as the case was to go to trial, Corradino gave a summary of the evidence the state would have presented, including damning cellphone records and text messages between Navin and his father that were obtained by Easton Police Chief Timothy Shaw, and which were a focus of defense efforts to exclude evidence. Those text messages contained incriminating exchanges between Navin and his father.

Navin’s girlfriend, Jennifer Valiante, has pleaded guilty to hindering prosecution and is to be sentenced to eight years in prison on Aug. 1. Text messages Navin and Valiante exchanged were also to be introduced as evidence at the trial. In one message, Navin wrote about his plan to “wipe out the virus and get the money for life.”

Corradino said Navin shot his mother as she sat in the cab of a truck owned by the family business, J&J Refuse. She had helped him on a refuse collection route just before he killed her. Bullet holes and Jeanette Navin’s DNA were found in the truck seat. Her DNA was also found on the muzzle of Navin’s .40-caliber pistol.

Jeffrey Navin’s blood and DNA were found in Navin’s Bridgeport home. A piece of carpet had been cut out and discarded, but investigators still found Jeffrey Navin’s blood and DNA.

During a search of Kyle Navin’s Bridgeport home, police found a Home Depot receipt for items including large garbage bags, painters tape, bleach, cleaning chemicals and insecticide. When their bodies were found, Jeanette Navin’s bones tumbled from a brush pile as workers cleared the property. Jeffrey Navin’s badly decomposed body was found a short time later wrapped in garbage bags secured with duct tape. His ankles had been bound with blue painters tape.

Jeanette Navin had told a friend that she and her husband planned to sell their trash-hauling business and cut their son out of their will, according to police. She was upset about her son's behavior and drug use and his failure to pay the mortgage and taxes on the home they bought him, according to the documents.

The month before his parents disappeared, Kyle Navin texted Valiante saying he had the “perfect plan” that would “solve every single problem and give us a wealthy amazing life,” the warrant said.

2f

[countrymusiclover]

6 - Heavy Reunion

Part 7

Military Lovers masterlist

Y/n's POV

The Afghanistan leader knocked the riffle from my hands and I try scooting away but he grabs my legs yanking me backwards. Jay tried to get up but one of the other guys fires a shot near him. Suddenly the guy upstairs quickly fired multiple shots killing two of the guards. The leader started pressing the trigger of his gun but an animal interferes pinned him to the ground. Blinking my eyes quickly it takes me a second before I recognize the animals color of fur. The ears are bent down when it snarls and it's claws are stuck in his cloak, something only one specific dog I know would do. "Kyle!" I gasp relieved that he's alive. Kyle gets thrown off by the man but he jumped up grabbing him by his clock holding him back from hurting me.

The two remaining guards tried to shoot at Jay grabbed a gun from his ankle shooting one of the guys. The other Afghan guy shoots towards Jay as I forced myself to my feet snatching the leaders riffle off the floor. Running up the stairs I aim my gun up seeing someone but the guy with brown hair holds his hands up, showing his pd vest. "Woah hey I'm with Halstead." The police guy and I both duck when bullets flew up around our heads. "What's your name cop?" I questioned feeling my heart rate increasing. The guy responded hearing Kyle biting at the leaders leg. "Adam Ruzek, you?" Lifting my riffle over the wall I try to shoot the Afgan man that's shooting at my boyfriend but I drop my gun not having a good grip like normal. "Y/n, Y/n L/n. Currently a Marine."

Jay hides behind a wall going back to his military instincts. He looked over his shoulder seeing their leader rip Kyle off elbowing him in his stomach which only makes the dog even angrier. The Afgan man tries to round the corner near Jay but he elbows him removing his gun from his hands, pinning him on the floor. Kyle growled up at their leader circling him slowly ready for an attack but the leader pulled out a handgun aiming it directly at Kyle's head. I run down the stairs as best I can choking out in tears getting the man to focus on me instead. "Take me - it's me you want not him. Please, please...don't hurt my dog..."

Entering my parents living room on Christmas morning they hand me a small box that moves around once it's sat on my lap. Untying the orange bow from the top the lid popped off for me to gasp seeing a tiny puppy's head sticking out. The puppy's ears lifts up locking onto my eyes when he rests his nose against mine. "He needs a name sweetheart, any ideas?" My father questioned watching me lift the puppy out of the box. My mother takes a photo of us together for the first time. The puppy's tail begins to wag excitedly as I scratch behind his ears, thinking of a name that pops in my head. "Kyle." I didn't know it then but that name means a straight line. For me it meant that no matter what path I went down as long as Kyle was with me, I knew it would be the right choice. Ever since that morning we've never separated from one another.

"Get the ball Kyle. Come on get it." Thirteen year old me cheers holding up a basketball dog toy up on my top bunk bed. Kyle jumps up high grabbing it but I try to keep a hold of it. Instead he pulled me down on the floor with him making a loud thud having my mother burst in my room worried. "Y/n what happened, are you hurt?" Kyle rolled over on his back loving his belly tickled and so I do just that replying to my mom. "I'm fine mom. Ky and I were just playing." She simply nods reading the clock on my desk knowing I have school in the morning. "We'll time for bed you two. You've got school tomorrow." Once she's gone I crawl under my covers patting the open spot under my right arm. Kyle lays right under it and I immediately closed my eyes knowing I'm safe here.

"Drop the weapon right now sir." Whipping my head around I see Jay holding his rifle aimed at the Afghanistan leader. "Jay don't-" I try to warn him but I'm spun into the leaders chest with a gun barrel pressing against my head. "Wait, wait, if you kill me you'll never get to the base remember." I stammered out needing to find a way out of this alive. Jay suddenly fires a shot in the guys foot so he dropped me to the ground firing a bullet at Jay but I rushed forward tackling the bad guy. He misfires his gun at me as I try to grab it from him hands until he rolls me onto my back pressing the gun against my throat trying to cut off my oxygen. "Killing you will be like I'm killing the Marine solider who took my family from me. Any last words girly?" Tears well in my eyes when I coughed struggling for breath. "Jay - I love you - Ky - Kyle!" Kyle launched off his back legs snatching his teeth into the guys hair tackling him off me. The leader hits my dog with his gun and I hear Kyle whimper. He lays on the floor with a twisted paw right as the barrel is aimed at his head. Jay's enemy on the ground got to his feet so him and Jay both gripped the gun fighting to get it from the others hand. Someone pulled the trigger and Jay winced swinging the gun around and killing the Afghan guy. A memory flashes through my mind where we were in this situation before.

Gunfire can be heard outside and it rings loudly in my ears with me trying to focus on not bleeding to death. The man aiming a gun at me threatens me, pointing his gun at Kyle who shields me with his body. "Reach for you gun and the dog dies understand!" I slowly nod kicking my rifle away with my left foot.

Forcing my weak body to my feet I rushed forward jumping right in front of Kyle as the bullet is fired. Everything seems to go in slow motion as I heard Jay calling out for me. A gunshot is fired from Adam upstairs hitting the Afghanistan leader in the thigh so he dropped on the ground. Kyle's barking drowned out when my body finally collapsed onto the floor. My ears are ringing like crazy with blurry vision. Turning my head around I see Jay rush forward putting pressure on my bleeding hip. "Y/n, Y/n stay with me - stay with me please!" Kyle sniffs around the bleeding Afghanistan guy uncovering a small red flashing device which makes him back like mad. "Jay bomb - bomb!" I croaked out seeing Adam cuffing the leader walking him out. Jay glanced over his shoulder picking me up quickly. "Kyle, here boy!" I choked out feeling light headed where I'm sure to pass out any second. Once we're outside members of the police department all duck behind their cars with an explosion going off behind us. Raising my right hand laying on the ground I sobbed uncomfortably seeing Kyle laying on the ground with burn marks passed out. He can't be dead - he can't be. My eyes fall close no longer being able to stay awake any longer and my hand reaching for my dog dropped.

Everyone I'm sorry I'm making so many cliffhanger chapters. It just feels right for this book

Comments really appreciated ❤️

[dollscircus]

Devil of daliha

P1

Daredevil AU. (Not following the show)

Darlin’s less than savoury nightlife. Cw; death, violence and violence aftermath.

———

Darlin had been watching him for about a month before that night, his schedule was easy to remember. Mark Walker. A fat old bastard in his late 40’s. Working at a dead end accounting firm.

It was a cold night as they sat on the rooftop, laying on their stomach with the but of the sniper rifle pressing against their shoulder with their eyes staring through the scope.

Darlin should’ve been able to hear the busy city below by the headphones in their eyes drowned it out pretty well, the voice of someone reading played in their ears. The voice reading a news report to them.

“Mark Walker, accused of triple homicide has been found not guilty due to-“ They growled, plucking the headphones from their ear and tossed it to the side. Hearing the city now, Darlin scoffed and looked back into the scope.

Bastard should’ve been let out, killing his fucking family and get’s off based on what- the fucking police handling evidence wrong?

They readjusted their grip on the sniper, watching the guy move about the building but they hadn't got a good angle on his yet not until he sat at his deck. Gotcha bastard.

The rifle jolted in their hands as it went off, they could hear the shatter of glass and the faint screams that followed. Darlin felt a smirk play at their lips watching him drop to the ground.

They sat up, almost casually and started taking the rifle apart while watching people run out of the building causing a panic in the streets below when the gun was away in a black case.

Climbing down the build was easy, getting away was the harder part. Standing in the alleyway, looking at a graffiti of the devil of Daliha. That's what people had been calling him. A vigilante that had been causing chaos the last few months.

Coward.

They scoffed while turning to walk down the alleyway but paused seeing the figure down the alleyway, his figure dark with blue light flashing behind him.

Darlin hummed to themself and raised a hand to wave at him a more playful wave, the masked figure staring him down.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear.

———

Sam’s night was pretty normal before that point, he was perched atop of a building listening out of anything. Only really getting the usual sounds and smells, at least for the first three hours. That’s when he heard it.

The pop of a gun, shattering glass and screaming only a few blocks away. He listened to the clicking of a gun being taken apart and humming from the person climbing down the building where the shot came from.

They didn’t speak when he found them, he heard a slight chuckle from them and he could tell they were putting the case with the rifle on the floor. Sam didn’t speak either, he had a memorable accent.

He stretched his hands, as he began to walk forward towards the gunman. He heard them chuckle again and they moved toward him too.

The fight was quick and messy. Both landing blow after blow to each other, Sam was surprised they could keep up with him. Their movements were fast and they knew what they were doing.

There was a moment during the fight where Sam took a boot to his chest, slamming him against the wall and winding him. Sam held a hand to his chest trying to catch his breath, they unclipped a blade from their waist.

He barely recovered when they began to swing the knife, which he barely dodged. Damn they were quick like they’d been trained. Sam grasped their wrist and twisted their wrist behind their back. Pinning them to the wall, he was hoping to grab the other arms and tie their hands but then something happened.

Sam guessed they reached for a handgun and fired it off. Sam leaned away, not feeling any pain yet- just an intense ringing in his ears. Essentially deafened for a second Sam pulled away, he could smell blood but he wasn't the one hurt.

When his hearing finally cleared, the person was long gone when Sam followed the trail of blood. He lost it before he found them again. Shit.

———

Darlin slid open the window to their apartment, gasping in pain as they drug their bleeding leg through the window. Their fucking gun went off and popped a shot in their leg, got the Devil to back off. They crawled through the window and threw their gun case into their room before falling through the window themself.

They groaned with pain while rolling on to their back, staring at the ceiling while wincing in pain and eventually they forced themself to roll back over and crawl over to the kitchen. Fishing out their med kit, thanking god for the shot was through and through.

They were dazed by the time they finished stitching up the wounds, eventually just sitting against the wall staring at bloody bandages and clothes on the floor. They inhaled and exhaled before dragging themself to their bedroom.

Sitting by their nightstand and reaching up for a painkiller bottle on the side, accidentally knocking it off a picture frame which landed in their lap. They popped a pill or two in their mouth, while leaning their head back into the bed.

They adjusted their legs remembering the frame on their lap, tilting their head down to look at it. Barely visible in the dark but they could make out the shape of the faces of the faces of the unit they served with. After a moment they winced while pulling themself up onto the bed, placing the picture back onto the bedside table.

Catching a glimpse of another picture frame with much younger faces on them but they couldn’t keep their eyes on them for two long before they rolled back over. Letting themself fall asleep.

———

Sam barely had the energy to crawl in through his window, he pulled the mask off and tossed it to the side while just about staying on his feet while limping through his apartment. Hovering a hand over his rib’s which were aching.

Swelling the blood around his mouth before splitting it into the sink while he lent against it, his hand trembled while turning the faucet on and washing the blood of his knuckles the best he could before limping into his bathroom.

The warm shower felt nice on his bruised and beaten body, he left against the wall for support and let out a deep sigh while he just stood waiting for all the blood and dirt to wash off normally before scrubbing.

His mind flashed back to the sniper that got away, thinking of all the little thing’s he could remember about them- the things he could figure out. Height, scent and he kept thinking of that little tune they were humming. He could’ve sworn he heard it before.

Sam eventually crawled out of the shower, drying himself off before collapsing on to his bed. Falling asleep before he even hit the bed.

———

They hurt all over when they woke up. Rolling out of bed they sat on the edge of the bed while cradling their face in their hand for a moment before looking up at a mirror by their bed. God they looked like shit. The chain around their neck glinted in the morning fun and they watched the wedding bands sway slightly.

They scowled and raised a hand to hold the rings in their palm and bring it up to their face and kissed their hand before letting it fall and finally dragging themself from their bed. Wincing in pain and they stumbled through the apartment and into their kitchen, the pain still aching through their leg.

Darlin gasped in pain while leaning their body against the wall but jumped when their doorbell rang. Limping through to their door, Darlin took a deep breath before answering the door to be greeted by their neighbour holding a package under his arm.

“Sorry for this, Darlin.” His southern accent was pleasing to listen to despite their banging head, “But could I have some help with this?”

[dmc-tings]

Part 2

The Four turning on Mother Miranda

They met at the church...

Alcina was sitting in her chair, but she wasn't sitting tall...

Donna was sitting in an empty pew... looking at her hands, her veil off

Angie was sitting next to her, with their loved ones coat, wrapped around her

Moreau, upset, was pacing back in forth in the darkness

"Where is he!!? This was his idea!"

The three waited

Heisenberg was at his Factory, talking to both Chris Redfield and Ethan Winters

"And that's why I... the Four needs your help." He looked at the two men infront of him, "Both of your help..."

Chris exchanged a look with Ethan, turning to Heisenberg, he asked, "How do we know it's not a damned trap?"

Heisenberg opened his mouth, but before he could answer, Ethan barked, "What changed!? You wanted to use my daughter as a damned weapon!"

Heisenberg pulled out the locket his love gave to him, opened it and shoved it into the men's faces

"THIS IS WHY!" He shook with fury, "SHE TOOK MY CHILDHOOD AWAY FROM ME!! MY LIFE, MADE ME WORK UNDERNEATH HER!!" His voice wavered, lowering, and cracking, "All of that doesn't amount up to that Bitch, killing the one thing I loved infront of me... She did the same to the other three... Please... Rose is no part of this new plan. But you'll have our help with rescuing her..."

Chris looked at the ground, he wanted to get Rose... but now, Heisenberg is making this waaay more personal

Ethan stood next to Chris, for once, quiet

Both men understood what it was like to have someone you cared or loved, to be killed in front of you...

"Fine. We'll hear you out. But if we suspect any foul play, I won't hesitate to have my team blow all of us sky high."

Heisenberg let out a sigh of relief

He led them to the meeting place: The Church

Alcina stood seeing the trio, she like the others where gripping the flasks that held Rose

"Are they going to help?" She looked at her brother

Heisenberg nodded, then explained the plan to everyone

"And that's it... you get Rose, and the BSAA gets the Mutamycete..."

Chris eyed the Four, keeping himself close to Ethan

"How do you know the plan is going to work? What makes you think Miranda is just going to fall into this trap?"

"The woman is clever... But dumb when it comes to her child." Moreau countered

"She was able to infiltrate The Winters' home and pose as Ethan's wife. Just to get close to Rose. It'll work." Angie spoke, glaring at the raven haired man

Chris looked at Ethan, the man was shaking, now holding all of the flasks containing his daughter

"I dont care... I just want my daughter back... and Mia, if we can find her... Lets just get on with this." He growled looking at the Four

Heisenberg looked at Chris, "Does this mean your going to help?"

Heaving a sigh, the soldier nodded, "Yes. You kept your promise, and didn't harm us." He turned away and radioed his team, explaining the change of plan

Ethan sat down, away from everyone, looking at the flasks, he was mumbling something to them

Angie looked up at Heisenberg, "Can we trust them? I mean..."

Moreau looked at his siblings, "We have to. This is the only way to avenge them! Your loved ones and mine... (They)ment the world to me... and..." he broke, growing silent

Heisenberg walked over and put a hand to Moreau's back, "I know... We all feel the same. But you have to follow the plan..."

Alcina nodded, "And then what? We'll be free of her..."

Donna waved her hand, "It doesn't matter. We'll have our revenge..."

The Four looked at one another in silence

Chris finished radioing his team, "Alright. Their moving into position."

The plan was for Ethan to "fight and kill" the Four as MM intended, but faking their deaths up to the point of the resurrection of Rose. It was the only way to get the baby back whole. Then Alpha Team would move in after the Four revealed themselves alive and delt with Miranda.

It was flawless, with MM thinking they were dead, it would give them a little bit of time to regroup

Though, Chris suggested that he still blow up the Factory, to make Miranda really believe Heisenberg was gone

The grease monkey agreed, knowing that the explosion was going to give them more time

The one thing no one planned for was Ethan being killed, the man risked his life for his child and this further enraged the Four

After finding the Mutamycete,Chris planted an explosion, then proceeded to find Miranda, running into Mia, whom he sent with Hound Wolf Squad

He met up with the Four, and they all made their way to Miranda

Though Ethan, angry and "alive" faced Miranda, aiming for her face with his trusty handgun

After a shot from Chris, Ethan retrieved his daughter

Miranda, enraged, tried to rush the man, only to be stopped by Alcina

"What are you doing, Foolish-"

Fury shone on the Draculina's face, "You killed the ONE person I truly cared about. I was LOYAL to you!!"

A sickening crack was heard, though Miranda didn't screech

Donna was next, sending a squad of dolls after the woman

The greedy little monsters clawed and mauled the woman, as best the could

Moreau unleashed his hellish form, sending grotesque acid towards the woman, melting her legs to the floor

Heisenberg was the last, he didn't waste time sending an iron bar threw the woman's head

Chris looked to Ethan, the man was dying...

But looked like he could at the very least make it to the helicopter

He lifted the male to his legs, then looked at the Four

"I... you all are more than welcome to come with us... The bomb I planted, will explode... making this place non existent..."

The Four looked at Chris and Ethan

Ethan gave them a weak smile, silently encouraging them

Then they looked at one another

Alcina spoke first, "How... we don't know how to live in your world..."

"Irrelevant. You can all learn." Chris spoke

Heisenberg stepped forward, taking helping Ethan stand up right

"Im going. (They) wanted to show me as much as (they) could... for (them) Im gonna go."

Donna stepped forward, Angie at her side, and gently took Rose, so the two men beside Ethan could hold the blonde up

"I... im going too..." she whispered, Angie nodded vigorously in agreement

Moreau looked at his hands, but nodded at Ethan and Chris

"I... I would like to leave this place as well..."

Alcina looked at her "siblings"

"I will get my daughters..."

Chris nodded, handing her a beacon, "When your ready, just light this. Well pick you up, and then blow this place away..."

After retrieving the Draculina and her daughters, Chris led everyone to safety. Away from the BSAA and their old home, the Four where given two choices:

Live and lead lives as normal as possible

Or

To help Hound Wolf Squad rid the world of the BSAA and other Bio-Weapons

[capaimagines]

bang chan - safe

Pairing: Mafia leader!Bang Chan x Reader | Genre: mafia, angst & fluff | Warnings: mentions of a break in, fighting, mafia themes | WC: 1.6k

Request: Bang Chan mafia leader where you and Chan are having a night in when he hears someone downstairs and goes to check it out and calling for backup when he hears you scream upstairs bc one of the attackers had you !! Your got7 mafia fic was amazing

Safety and security was the one thing Chan always promised you. He wanted to keep you safe at all costs. You had put all your trust in him that he would keep his word. Being a small town girl you really had no idea about the inner and outer workings of the mafia. For a while there, you truly believed that things like that were all fairy tales and stories parents would tell their kids to warn them off of the idea of gangs and such.

When you met Chan that had quickly faded. Even then he had kept you safe, you were just an innocent passer-by. You had moved to the big city to land a good job and make money for your family. You hadn’t expected to walk—quite literally—into the crossfire of Chan’s group and another group. One of the men from the other group had grabbed you, pressing the head of his gun into your temple.

You were trembling and Chan could sense that, within seconds he had stood up. He may be a mafia leader, but he never harmed someone who was innocent. Especially a girl as cute as you. He had shot the man in the centre of his head without hesitation. Of course he didn’t miss; he never did. You had fallen to your knees in horror, trembling and shaking with nerves and disbelief at what just unfolded in front of you.

Chan, being your knight in shining armor, took you back to their base and helped calm you down after reassuring you that he only wanted to help protect you and that he or his team weren’t going to hurt you. You two started talking more and more and outside of his work, he was just a normal boy also finding his way in the world. It didn’t take long before you two started dating and he had always kept his word. He was to always keep you safe. You never had to look over your shoulder or fear that you’d be snatched when you were on your own.

Tonight though you had asked Chan for a night in. All you wanted to do was eat junk food and watch movies while you cuddled with him. A typically normal boyfriend-girlfriend thing to do. He had happily agreed and you two were sat with a tub of ice cream between you as you intensely focused on the Disney movie playing on the screen. You were so focused you almost missed the sound of glass breaking. Almost.

Of course Chan had heard it. He always seemed to be on high alert 24/7. You couldn’t blame him though.  His career path was more dangerous than most and he couldn’t afford to be caught off guard, but that’s exactly what was happening right now. He had sent everyone home for the night, wanting to just spend time with you.  

“Stay here and have Hyunjin ready on speed dial,” Chan told you.

You nodded, quickly pulling out your phone as Chan seemed to whip a small handgun out of nowhere. That was something that took you some time to get used too. Weapons of any kind just randomly hidden around the large home. Chan slowly opened the bedroom door before looking back over his shoulder at you. 

“Don’t leave this room or open the door for anyone. I’ll come back for you,” You gulped at his words before nodding, feeling the anxiety start to take over you.

Chan quietly closed the door and you quickly stood up to lock it. You hadn’t noticed with your shaking hands that you had pressed Hyunjin’s contact and were currently connected to him. You heard someone saying hello and scrambled for your phone.  

“Hyunjin! Hi! Sorry, we heard glass breaking downstairs and Chan wanted me to—HEY!”

You whipped your head around as someone plucked your phone from your ear. You did not like being interrupted in the middle of a conversation. When you had a knife aimed at your throat though, you couldn’t complain too much. The man was significantly larger than you. You had never seen him before but with the crazed grin on his face, you were happy this was your first meeting, and last.

Being the girlfriend of a mafia leader didn’t leave you completely defenceless. You knew how to defend yourself if you ever had too, you had just hoped you would never have too. You eyed the man in front of you, the glint of the metal blade hitting off the light which caused you to gulp, trying to understand how the hell you were going to knock that out of his hand without getting cut.

“Sorry, pretty girl,” The stranger cooed and you swallowed down bile, “You’re going to have to come with me,” You stood up slowly, never taking your gaze off the blade. 

You briefly met the man’s gaze and clicked your tongue, “I don’t think so. You’re not really my type,” You could visibly see the man startle at your response. He obviously thought you were going to be an easy target.

“Then I guess you’ll just have to die here with your pretty boyfriend.” He remarked that you could only scoff in response as you rolled your eyes.

“That’s not really an option either,” The man looked very confused at the small figure that was talking back to him. He wasn’t here to play games though. His orders were clear. Either he brought you back with him alive or killed you there. He made his move and you quickly ducked down, thankfully Minho had taught you a few little tricks with examining one's movements.

You moved, yet not quick enough that the blade grazed your shoulder. You hissed in pain and turned to narrow your eyes at the man in front of you. He looked shocked, yet again, that you were putting up a fight. He growled, coming towards you again and you didn’t get as lucky. His knife cut into your hand as you grabbed for the blade which resulted in a hiss from you due to the pain, jumping back and that’s when he wrapped his arm around your neck.

“CHAN!” You screamed as loud as you could. You were so pent up on adrenaline you hadn’t heard anything that was going on downstairs. Now, your ears were open and you could hear banging and grunting coming from down there. You had only hoped Hyunjin was smart enough to know he should bring the others.

Thankfully, you’re assumption that Hyunjin was smart because a few seconds after you screamed, the bedroom door was kicked open by none other than Changbin with Chan hot on his heels. You were struggling against the man’s hold in hopes to wiggle out.  

“Let. Her. Go,” Chan looked deadly and Changbin’s glare was no better. You were close with all the boys, but Changbin was probably one you were closest to besides Chan.

“Sorry, pretty boy, I have orders so she’s coming with me,” You felt something press against your neck and you groaned, finally letting your hands fall.  

“I can’t believe this is happening again!” Everyone around you seemed pretty shocked at your words.  Here you were, on the brink of being kidnapped or dead and you were making comments like that?

You heard the click of Chan’s gun being cocked and closed your eyes. You had seen the very quick flash of silver hair outside the window, signalling that it was Felix. You weren’t the one dying today at least. It was going to be the barbarian that still had his hands on you.  

“Last chance,” Chan stated firmly, “Let. Her. Go,” Chan’s voice was dripping with venom and his grip on the handle of the gun was iron tight.

The man only laughed and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. You inhaled a large breath and drew your elbow, swinging back as hard as you could. It was enough to surprise him and loosen his grip, which helped you to promptly slip away and scurry towards Chan. He saw the blood on your shoulder and the cut on your hand. His eyes darkened as he turned back to the intruder.

However, before he could pull the trigger, Felix graciously crashed through the window and tackled him. His hands were bound behind his back before he could even understand what had happened. You only smirked at the man as Chan ordered for him to be brought back to their base.  

“I told you I wasn’t dying today, pretty boy,” You spat the words out and it seemed to anger the man but there wasn’t much he could do as he laid on the floor and hogtied.

Chan sighed as Changbin and Felix carried him out. He turned to you with a worried smile, immediately inspecting your hand, “I’ll come with you and let Minho patch it up. But I’m fine, Chan. Really. See?” You held his hand to your heart so he could feel it beating, “I’m right here, I’m breathing and I’m alive. Now let’s go! We just got this carpet and now my hand is dripping blood all over it.”

Chan could only chuckle as he gently guided you out the bedroom door and down to the car. Once he made sure you were safely settled in, he backed out and started driving.

“Are you really okay?” He asked after a few minutes of silence. You smiled and nodded at him then puckered your lips together before looking back out the window.

“Felix is going to owe us a new window by the way. That wasn’t cheap.”

[sleepysnk]

this wasn't requested, but it has been on my mind all night! i decided to give you guys some angst, this will he set in a modern high school au and Eren is the classic bad boy, while reader is the good girl. i'm not gonna share too much, but here ya go! i hope you guys enjoy, this will be manbun Eren btw!

Eren x Fem!Reader: You Don't Need Me

Warnings: angst, some mentions of violence (not to reader), police involvement

(Y/N) giggled as she got into the car with Eren. He was picking her up from her job at the cafe. 

"Hey.. thank you for the ride," she said and looked at him with a smile. 

Eren smiled and ran a hand through his hair. "No problem.. don't ever hesitate to message me when you need one," he said and began to drive the car. 

Eren and (Y/N) had been talking for a pretty long time, the girl who had a crush on the boy since junior year. Now as a senior, she finally got the opportunity to get to know him, with the help of her friend Armin who was friends with Eren. She never thought she would ever get this far in speaking or being this close with him. Eren was always so closed off. 

"You want anything to eat?" he asked and looked at her. 

She sighed. "Not really.. I gotta get home to study for this exam. It's crucial for me," she replied and leaned back in the seat. 

Eren nodded. "Exams are stupid, why let a score determine what you're gonna be in life?" he said, shrugging.

She laughed a bit and looked on her phone. "Easy for you to say, you never are in school," she said. 

He laughed. "Okay, that's true," he replied, glancing over at her.

(Y/N) was the perfect student. 4.0 GPA, was on the dance team, had multiple college scholarships offered, was in AP classes, and had an amazing report card. It was no overstatement to say she was set for greatness in life. 

Eren wasn't the best student. The boy never really was in school, he had bad grades, a bad temper, got into trouble with the law, fights, drugs once or twice, and has gotten suspended multiple times. There was almost a time where Eren got into so much trouble that he almost got expelled, thanks to Carla and Grisha, his parents, that didn't happen. 

Thing was, Eren never mentioned any of the bad to (Y/N). As far as the girl knew, Eren was just a simple lazy guy who didn't come to school. He kept her out of that shit, he felt like she didn't need to know. 

"Alright.. we're here" he said and put the car in park. 

(Y/N) gathered her things and looked at him. "Thank you for the ride, it means a lot" she said and smiled at him. 

Eren smiled. "No problem, I'll see you tomorrow? Text me" he replied and gave her a hug. 

She nodded. "See you later" she said and got out of his car. 

Eren waved as she got out, he waited for her to get inside and he drove off. He had to go do something for someone he knew, and he had to do it fast. 

His phone began to ring and he noticed it was the guy. "Hey.. I'm on my way" he said. 

The guy who's name was Porco, sighed. "Good.. you need to hurry your ass up, we have to get this shit in your car and out of here" he said. 

Eren nodded. "Okay, I'll be there soon" he replied and hung up. 

He drove about 15 minutes away and arrived at the place. He sent a text to Porco, and waited for someone to come out. Eren felt nervous, realizing it was now past curfew, cops would be crawling around. Especially at this time of night and where he was. 

He heard a knock on his window and saw a hooded figure, Eren got out and looked at the guy. Porco removed his hoodie. 

"Finally you got here, take it. Hide it and don't show anyone" he said and handed Eren a bag. 

The bag felt heavy and he felt the metal of the handgun through it. "You got it" he said and looked around. 

Porco nodded. "Alright man I believe in you, don't get caught" he said and tapped his arm. 

Eren got back into the car as Porco walked off, he began to drive back to his house. He had to hide this gun as quickly as possible, he heard his phone go off and he noticed (Y/N) texted him. The text made him smile, he knew how much she liked him, she was so cute. 

As Eren was texting back his worst fear was now facing him as the red and blue flashes appeared behind him. 

"Shit!" Eren yelled and looked around for a place to pull over. 

Eren's anxiety shot through the roof. He already had enough issues with the law, he shoved the gun under the passenger seat and hoped for the best. 

The officer knocked on the window. "License and registration please" he said. 

Eren rolled down the window and grabbed his license, he searched the glovebox for the registration and handed it to the officer. 

The officer looked at it. "Eren Jaeger huh? I remember you, you stole alcohol and I found you drinking" he said and laughed a bit. 

He rolled his eyes and shook his leg nervously. "I don't remember you very much" he replied and tried to seem cool. 

"I'm gonna go run your stuff, remain here" the officer said and walked away. 

Eren felt his heart beating in his ears, he wanted to get this over already. He wasn't even sure why he was pulled over, he wasn't even doing anything bad. 

The officer came back and handed him his stuff. "I pulled you over because you were speeding and you were texting and driving. Considering your record, I'm going to have to search the vehicle. You can refuse but-" the officer stopped when he looked in the car seeing a beer bottle. "Sir.. have you been drinking tonight?" he asked. 

Eren furrowed his brows. "No? I'm fine" he replied. 

"There's a beer bottle right there" he said and pointed at it.

Fuck. 

"Eren I'm going to have to ask you to please step out of the vehicle" the officer said and looked at him. 

He sighed and unbuckled his seatbelt. "It's not mine.. I don't know how it got there" he said as he got out. 

"I need backup" the officer said on his radio. "Wait right there on the curb" he added and pointed at the curb. 

Eren sat down on the curb and saw another cop car pull up, the two officers began talking and one of them came over to Eren. 

"Alright so we're going to search your vehicle, we have probable cause. Is there any kind of weapon in your vehicle we should be concerned about? This is when you should be honest" the officer asked. 

Eren looked up. "No.." he replied. 

The officers went to go search Eren's car, he felt anxiety going through him. He silently prayed that they wouldn't find the gun, he felt sick he wanted to throw up on the spot. 

"What do we have here?" the officer said and looked at Eren. He was holding the bag with the gun in it. "You're going to jail tonight," he added. 

Fuck. 

The next day (Y/N) didn't see Eren at school, she was a bit confused, maybe he was skipping again? 

She was sitting in class with her friend Sasha. "He hasn't texted me back at all" (Y/N) said and looked at her. 

Sasha shrugged. "Maybe he's asleep, Eren is always skipping. You know you could ask Mikasa or Armin, they usually know" she said. 

She sighed. "Armin told me he doesn't know anything apparently" she replied. 

Sasha put her hand onto her shoulder. "Just ask Mikasa" she said. 

The bell rang and students began to exit the classroom, (Y/N) made her way down the stairs and saw Mikasa standing with Armin. The two seemed to be talking about something, she just wanted to know where the hell Eren was. 

"Hey Mikasa… have you seen Eren?" (Y/N) asked and nodded. 

Mikasa looked at her and rolled her eyes. "I know where he is, he's so stupid! I'm surprised you're asking, considering you both are so close" she replied. 

(Y/N)'s brows furrowed. "Huh? What do you mean? Eren said he'd come to school" she said and sounded confused. 

The dark-haired girl looked at Armin. "You don't know?" he asked and nodded. 

(Y/N) seemed genuinely confused by what the two were saying. "No.. I don't, guys can you please just tell me?" she replied. 

Mikasa sighed. "Eren is in jail, he got caught with a gun last night. He's so stupid, this is his 3rd time in jail" she said and crossed her arms. 

She felt her body go weak and she dropped her phone to the floor. "He what? N-No.. stop messing around, that's not like Eren" she replied. 

Armin put his hand on her shoulder. "He didn't tell you? (Y/N), this is pretty normal. He always gets involved with the law" he said and looked at her. 

She picked up her phone. "Thanks guys, I'm gonna go.." she said and walked away from them. 

(Y/N) went to the bathroom and began to break down, what the hell was Eren doing with a gun? She never knew Eren had issues with the law, she always assumed he was just a guy who skipped school and had anger issues. Why would he lie to her? What else was he lying about? 

Things on Eren's end weren't better either. He was on bail at the moment, his bail was about $7000. His mom was pissed and so was his dad. Eren fucked up and he knew Porco wasn't going to be happy either, Eren snitched. 

The officer approached the holding cell. "Good news, you just got bailed out" he said and began to unlock the doors. 

Eren stood up and exited the holding cell, he saw his parents standing there. "You all have a good night now" another officer said and nodded. 

The three exited the police station. "Eren what the fuck!? Do you know what the hell you just did?" his mom yelled as he sat in the car. 

Eren rubbed his temples. "Yes mom I'm fully fucking aware!" he replied. 

His dad looked back at him. "We paid $7000 to get you out of here! Why the fuck did you have a gun!? Who the hell gave it to you?" he asked. 

Eren looked around the car. "I can't fucking tell you! Jesus dad, lay off!" he replied. 

His dad scoffed. "You're in deep shit when you get home," he said and turned back to drive. 

The drive home was quiet, Eren got home and went to his room instantly. His phone had multiple messages from Armin, Mikasa, and (Y/N)... shit (Y/N)! What the fuck was he going to do? 

Eren looked at his phone as it pinged again. The message left his anxiety sky-high. 

Porco: YOU'RE FUCKING DEAD MAN.

He rubbed his head and threw his phone. "Fuck.." he said and looked around his room. 

The night was upon him and Eren decided to just leave his house, he couldn't stay here and risk this. He climbed out of the window and began to walk down the street, Eren looked on his phone and put it into his pocket. 

"Eren?" he turned around as he heard the familiar voice of (Y/N). 

Eren stopped in his tracks and walked over to her. "(Y/N).." he said. 

She backed away from him. "I thought you were in jail…" she said and looked down. 

His eyes went wide as he realized the truth had finally come out. "So you know huh?.. (Y/N), know I wasn't lying to you on purpose" he said and tried to reach out to her. 

(Y/N) wiped away a few stray tears. "Eren why the fuck would you lie!?" she asked. 

He looked at her. "(Y/N)... I did it to keep you away from the shit I do" he replied. "I didn't do it for no reason," he added. 

"You're just a punk huh? What a fucking lie, Eren,” she said. 

His anger began to rush through him. "Why the fuck are you crying!? Huh? You don't fucking NEED me (Y/N)! You have a fucking life ahead of you, I don't. I'm bad for YOU, and you fucking know it. You don't have to deal with cops on your ass, or have to worry about if someone is gonna come fucking kill your family. You don't fucking understand! You're just a fucking perfect daddy's girl. You're so fucking NEEDY (Y/N). You don't need someone like me" he yelled. 

She felt tears pour from her eyes. "W-Wait.. Eren, what? What are you talking about?" she asked and furrowed her brows.

"Just stay the fuck away from me! I don't want you! Go live your perfect life, you don't need me. I need to go" Eren said and began to walk off. 

(Y/N) watched as Eren began to run off. "Eren…" she cried as he walked off. 

The feeling of her heart breaking was suffocating her, and Eren felt his tears burning his eyes. She didn't need a guy like Eren, she deserved better. 

[it-was-summer]

Video Killed The Radio Star- Chapter 4 (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)

A/N: Happy new year! Please remember that most of these chapters are very sensitive to some readers and to be safe with this new year upon us! Another reminder that if you ever feel helpless, you are not alone and you are loved. Love you all- Em <3

Warnings: Sex talk, infidelity, blood, disturbing material, loss of a child, and suicide.

Plot: We take a small look into Heather’s past and the events leading up to her obsession. The team seems to be missing a piece of the puzzle. Adeline comes back to the station. 

Word Count: 2.9K

Four years prior- January 10, 20XX

Heather had thinned out since she dropped out of college, to achieve so she had fallen victim to eating disorders. They were horrible, but they did tremendous work. She didn’t necessarily like herself per se, but she did like how she looked, even if sometimes she would look into the mirror and think “Is that me?”

Heather deleted the old version of herself and became more social. She had friends, she went to parties, she even went to bars. The bars were what bothered her the most, maybe it was the Catholic guilt building up, it could also be the fact that she was using a fake i.d. She always hated lying, it made her stomach twist into nervous knots. Tonight, she decided, would be fun. She wouldn’t throw up after eating, she wouldn’t feel guilty for having fun, instead, she would simply have a good time with her friends.

Yes, a good time is what she needed. It was around the start of the new year when Heather, privately, declared that she didn’t have to be so miserable. She deserved to do something fun, at least for tonight. In her attempt at happiness, she dressed in a casual black dress that hugged her body in a way that made her uncomfortable but made men comfortable.

Heather could play the social butterfly, but in reality, she was a wallflower. Her friends had yet to arrive so she stayed up against one of the walls of the bar, silently begging that they wouldn’t arrive too late. That’s when David approached her. David was beautiful, to say the least, with dark skin, a defined body, the most beautiful hazel eyes she had ever seen, and to top it all off he was a man in uniform. Even Heather, in all of her innocence, found him irresistible.

Like a shot, Heather and David got married. Heather kept her last name and thanks to their marriage, David got some time off, he could be there to help pick out their new house. It all felt so fast, Heather was happy, but sometimes she couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed. Heather got a good two months with her husband before he off to England.

A year later when David came home, he was more distant, he didn’t want to be there. At first, Heather tried to keep him home with sex. They had sex almost everywhere, like animals. Then he started to go out, with some of their mutual friends. He would go out every night and stay out till six in the morning. Heather felt desperately lost, love slipping through her fingers, and she was hopelessly devoted to a man who was slowly falling out of love with her.

David would still have sex with her, but once he was done he would get up and leave. He always said he had somewhere to be, had work to do, but she knew that he was done with her. Well, done with her until she announced that she was pregnant. Then suddenly he was there again. He stayed in their bed at night and he cared about her.

Six months was coming around when Heather shot up in bed one night, her body in unbearable pain. The couple drove to the hospital as fast as they could, but by the time they got there it was too late, and that’s when the rest started to fall apart. David didn’t start to pull away till a couple of months later, six to be exact, and then he was on his way to Japan.

That’s when it all started, she would read anything romantic she could find. Her library consisted only of romance, sappy as it seemed. She was able to escape into a world where a man could simply love a woman, most adherently. What made her break was when David called a month before their fourth anniversary saying that when he came home he wanted a divorce and that he had met someone else.

That’s when she started seeing Y/N.

***

Present-day- March 9, 20XX

You woke up with the taste of blood in your mouth, not needing a mirror to know that the cut on your lip had broken open more in your sleep. Your tongue slid out of your mouth, licking away the blood in one swift motion. For almost two days now, morphine and blood was your diet. The only thing filtering through your veins.

You didn’t mind at this point, you were close enough to the edge of the bed that you could grab the morphine drip, you turned the nobs to make your intake high enough to feel numb. The drug was currently letting you forget, letting you forget how many times Heather kissed you, letting you forget all the assault that had been inflicted on you in the past few days.

Your head was pounding as your eyes looked around the pink room, the light making you slightly nauseous. You frowned as a tiny thought came into your brain, would this ruin all romantic endeavors for you? Would you ever be able to feel comfortable with someone seeing you naked? Would it be alright if they saw the word ‘Slut’ on your chest? You were about to bite your lip, in a lame attempt to keep yourself from crying before you remembered the cut, and you were reduced to crying silent tears as you stared up at the ceiling, trying your best to let the feeling of numbness wash over you.

Heather was downstairs, in her forest green kitchen, washing the blood off the paring knife. Rational thoughts were finally coming to her as she began to think about the seriousness of her situation. She needed a safe out. If she ran away or killed you it would mean she would have to spend an even longer time in prison. A life spent behind bars, knowing that no one would be missing her. What a painfully sad existence she lived, she thought before she started to sob over the running sink.

She remembered what she said yesterday, about how she would kill herself and you if they ever found the two of you, but that outcome was becoming more of a reality to her now. Did she have to kill Catherine? All she wanted was for you to love her, for the two of you to love each other. She tried to follow the path of normal people, the path of falling in love with someone naturally instead of kidnapping them. She had already done the marriage thing and look where that got her, she was a childless, psychopathic, soon-to-be divorcee.

No, she couldn’t spend the rest of her miserable life in prison, it had to be the latter. Heather dropped the knife into the sink, walking away towards one of the kitchen drawers to pull out a handgun, her husband was in the military, of course, he taught her how to use a gun. She put the gun on the kitchen counter, walking out to the living room to turn on the news. After all, she didn’t have to end it all if they weren’t onto her yet.

***

The profile was on pause, and they had yet to share it. Hotch was staring at photos of Y/N, Adeline Smith, and Heather Alexander, all three went to the same college, lived in the same building, and on the same floor. They all knew each other, all three of them seemed to be friends. Garcia had managed to contact some other girls that lived on that same floor. They knew you and Adeline but didn’t have much to say about Heather.

Spencer took a tiny sip of his coffee, trying to ignore how bad it tasted, as he stared at the photos with Hotch. Y/N was an English major, Adeline was psychology, and Heather was a theater major before she dropped out. He found that strange being as she was a florist now.

Derek let out a sigh, feeling especially restless on this case. He kept saying that he wanted to find you as soon as possible, Garcia jokingly told him that you probably weren’t going to tell him he had nice arms in real life, but the real reason he wanted to find you was because of your last video. It stuck with him, it stuck with all of them, your desperate plea to be found. The one it was effecting the most was Spencer.

During their car rides together, Spencer had shared that he felt they were all being deceived. He said he felt like the person was right under their noses, and yet they were just focusing too much on one thing instead of the other. After that, he combed through the evidence once again, searching for something else. Something that he could have missed, which seemed impossible, but nothing was impossible.

“So, a woman in her mid-twenties that knew Y/N since college and works in the city. Oh, and she’s a beautiful brunette.” Prentiss said with a small cold laugh.

“Let’s not forget that she has a passion for romance novels, especially the classics,” Rossi added as he came to stand with the other members of his team.

A small knock at the door made all of them turn their heads towards the door, looking strangely familiar to a pack of animals. The sheriff stood in the frame of the door as she pointed behind her “There’s an Adeline Smith here, talking about Y/N L/N.” she said simply as Spencer and Emily slipped past her and headed towards Adeline.

“Agent Prentiss,” Adeline said softly with a nervous smile “I was thinking about earlier today when you were interrogating me and I thought about something strange.”

“Strange,” Spencer repeated “How so?”

Spencer and Emily were already leading her back to the conference room they were set up in, offering her a seat before she answered Spencer’s question “Well, I just remembered somethings that Heather did.”

“What kind of things?”

“Well,” she cleared her throat softly, eyes looking around at the team slowly surround her “, She always acted differently around Y/N, she would never say it out loud but she hated it when I was there, you could see it in her eyes.”

Derek set a cup of coffee down for Adeline, she grabbed it as soon as it hit the table, taking a sip to calm her nerves. “She wanted Y/N all to herself, I get that with like a best friend but I was closer to Y/N than she was, so it was just strange.” Hotch frowned as they all shared one single thought, just because Heather Alexander had an unhealthy attachment to Y/N L/N didn’t mean that she was their unsub. Adeline gently gasped and straightened in her chair “I just remembered something!”

“It was around Halloween and the three of us got invited to this party and Y/N, being Y/N, decided she wanted to go as Catherine Earnshaw from Wuthering Heights or something and I told her it was stupid and that no one would get it, but she was pretty determined. Then one night, Heather heard that and she was all excited to be Heathcliff, said that Y/N would be her Catherine Earnshaw, said that she made a perfect Catherine Earnshaw. That never really sat right with me, that’s when I started to think that Heather was a little in love with Y/N, but then she dropped out.”

It clicked then, that their Unsub was Heather Alexander. It made sense, the copies of Wuthering Heights and Jane Eyre, Heather thought of Y/N as her lover, Heather was Heathcliff, she was Mr. Rochester, she believed that Y/N’s purpose was to love her. Spencer was already walking out with Derek before Emily could thank Adeline for coming in. The rest of the team following quickly behind.

***

Heather had her back towards the television, leaning against the back of her living room couch staring out the window. Nothing was coming onto the news and nothing was happening out of the street. Heather could feel guilt eating away at her consciousness, she had snapped earlier when you refused to let her show you her love. You had yet to do that, you were so good, she loved her Catherine. She felt tiny tears rise to the surface, letting them fall as she moved away from the couch, grabbing the gun from the counter, and heading upstairs.

You were frozen on the bed, feeling like you were suffocating as Heather came back into the room. Sometimes she looked so normal, sometimes she looked like she was hurting, suffering from something. Your eyes were locked onto her as she shuffled awkwardly into the room, reminding you of how she used to act in college. Her eyes weren’t staying on you, they seemed to look around the room in a nervous haze. “Catherine,” she said in a tearful voice “I’m sorry.” she apologized, and as soon as she did her eyes locked onto yours.

You felt such pity for her in an instantaneous second, but that emotion was fleeting as you stared up at her. You could never forgive her for what she had done to you, as much as you would like to try to. You would love to be righteous, but you could only feel anger at the moment.  She looked down at you, waiting for an answer, waiting for forgiveness. You silently decided that she would have to wait forever, she would have to wait until she held a gun to your head, only then would you forgive her, simply because you didn’t want to die. 

You broke eye contact with her, looking around the room as she started to cry over the side of the bed, suddenly noticing that the door was slightly open. You peeled your eyes away from it quickly, afraid that if she followed your gaze she would notice and shut the door. 

You were currently trying to move your arm, the morphine making it more difficult than it should have been. When you were finally able to lift your arm, you weakly grabbed Heather’s arm, your hand slipping slowly down her arm. Heather’s tears slowed as she watched your struggling attempt to touch her. She smiled when you did, taking it as a sign of forgiveness. Heather suddenly felt lighter, she slumped over the side of the bed with a heavy sigh. She was about to speak when pounding at the front door interrupted her train of thought. 

Her head turned quickly to look over her shoulder, letting out a tiny curse as she ran over to shut the door, locking it from the outside, as the front door was broken down. Heather returned to the bed, grabbing the morphine drip, and yanked the wire out of your vein. You couldn’t feel it yet, but you were sure that soon you would. 

Adrenaline was coursing through your veins as you realized what was happening. The police were here, the FBI was here, your videos had worked. You didn’t think that they would work, that they would be helpful, you couldn’t believe that the police had called the BAU here, just because you said you wanted them to work your case.

The adrenaline was working quickly, you sat up cautiously, swaying slightly. Heather was hyperventilating now, hand on her chest as she tried to calm down and think. She looked back at Catherine sitting up on the bed, eyes wide. Were you scared? Heather let out a shaky sigh, reaching behind her to pull out the gun she had been hiding under her shirt. Your eyes looked at the gun in her hand before shifting to look into her eyes quickly “Heather,” you started, scooting away from her on the bed. “Heather, you know you don’t have to do this. The police, if you kill me, the police will-”

“You don’t think I know what the police will do? I have to kill you and then I have to kill myself.” her hands were shaking as she held the gun towards you. There was pounding on the door. You felt tears fill your eyes, cheeks becoming red as you began to beg for your life.

“Please don’t do this, we can get out of this together. You don’t have to do this, Heather!” She flinched when you said her name, another pound at the door.

Her eyes were wide as she stole a look over at the door, it was rattling and the two of you could hear voices on the other side. She turned back to look at you, biting her lip as she cried, hands dropping. You didn’t say anything, shaking with anxiety as she lifted the gun up to her chin, smiling sweetly at you. “Be with me always - take any form - drive me mad! only do not leave me in this abyss, where I cannot find you! Oh, God! it is unutterable! I can not live without my life! I can not live without my soul!”

“Heather, please, listen to me! Please, you don’t have to do this!”

“Goodbye, Catherine.” she finished as she pulled the trigger, gun-shot ringing throughout the house. Your ears were ringing as you let out a blood-curdling scream, watching Heather’s head explode in front of you, then the door came down.