#red is the sniper who kills you a country away and when you see the killcam he is like 3 visible pixels

[anonomi]

Snipers

[writer-of-various]

Meet Your Heroes! Featuring Shellshock, aka Irina Zykov! Report Edition, 2001.

"Minerva is just an amazing person, an amazing super, she didn't ask to be experimented on and could have killed us all but she made it her life goal to save humans: the weak, pathetics. Don't look like that, I was one of you too before a filthy German pig decided to shove a fucking syringe in my vein. We didn't ask for this, we got it because life is a bitch, and now we have to save everyone."

Shellshock about Minerva.

"America is a tough gal, really, she had it rough when she lost her brother though, nearly killed and destroyed everything in her path. There's not much to say, because there are no words to describe the bravery and good heart of Turner. She is America's Hero, their angel, to some their God. She doesn't believe that though, she's always so hard on herself. She's a good girl, I just wish she knew that."

Shellshock about America.

"That's Caduceus, a real goddess. Comrade Miller managed to revive her dying teammates in the war, her healing powers have always been the center of attention. They gave her that name, they gave her the staff, but her uniform is really the only thing that screams who she is. She's the Goddess of Healing, of reviving, but she's also the Goddess of death and pestilence. Don't get her mad."

Shellshock about Caduceus.

"Serpent is of course what his name says. He turns into a fucking poisonous snake: one bite, you're done. One graze of his fangs, you're done. In the war he really was a snake, a good one though, he snuck around, he stalked, he waited until the time was right to go forth with his objective. He did it for family, friends, religion, countries. He's the only snake you would want on your team, because he's a loyal snake."

Shellshock about Serpent.

"And there's me, your nuke, your .45 ACP, .9mm, sniper rounds, missiles, explosive rounds, gunny, you fucking name one of those things and I'm it. I can shoot a fucking nuke out of a pistol– yes, I tried it in Nevada, don't judge me Yankee. Anyways, I saw more action in the Cold War, with the advancement of weapons and fear of nuclear warfare. Trust me, if a nuke were to drop somewhere, it's because of me and it'll be on the country who was a hair away from pressing that magical red button. Obviously I changed a lot, drinking, smoking, fighting, I've done things I'm not proud of but these powers you see as a gift, as a blessing, are a curse for us."

Shellshock about herself.

"Lilja can't be in a room full of light and people and get angry or upset, her powers will black out everything and kill you in a nanosecond. Nancy is too strong, she worries about hurting those she loves. Rebecca's powers can sometimes reflect her emotions and she can set the world into a pandemic. Jaren is afraid if he goes to a school, a parade, some civic public event to show his powers off to kids, he can kill one of them accidentally. These powers are horrible, they took so much away from us so we can give too much away for everyone. Don't get me started on the Modern Heroes, they have it just as bad."

Shellshock about the heroes' powers.

[dhampiravidi]

The heartbeat was far away enough that Jayn felt she could turn around without worry. No one could shoot her from there unless they were a sniper & even then, with some time to react, Jayn was able to block bullets with the thick sheets of ice she was used to raising. Besides, if someone had followed her all the way from whatever country just to catch her unawares while she was on patrol...well, she'd rather get it over with than anything else. So, she turned around.

She did not expect to see a compound bow. First, she was confused, then shocked, then--Jayn almost laughed. "What're you laughin' at?" She tensed. Every now & then, when she was on patrol, she'd hear Jason talking to her. Most people would probably say that it was her guilt making her hallucinate, but she'd seen him, too, still 15 years old & wearing his tattered Robin costume. He was mad that she hadn't killed the Joker yet & he always got on her case when she became "sidetracked".

Focus. There weren't a lot of redheaded archers who wore red & used a compound bow, so she was fairly certain that it was Roy Harper. All good & dandy, except 1) she needed to let him know that she wasn't a criminal & 2) the boat would be arriving soon. Jayn was well-aware that she looked a lot different than she had almost 10 years ago. She didn't wear the same colors & her younger alter ego had never used her hydrokinesis.

She checked the heartbeats again to make sure no one was close, then she raised her hands in a gesture of peace. It was up to Roy what happened next--at least as far as their relation went. When that boat came, she was taking everyone out so the feds could swoop in & handle the drugs.

Roy received word about a human trafficking operation taking place in the harbor several days ago from a reliable source. It was supposed to be small, covert; they were being smart and not spreading the word to more people than necessary. Unfortunately for them, Roy already has too much experience under his belt getting information he wanted out of people when he needed it, so finding out about what was about to happen Friday night was only giving him more time to prepare.

By the time Friday night arrived, he was already ready for action. Having dropped off Lian at a friend's place, he got all the equipment he needed from his workshop hideout before getting on the road towards the pier. He took all factors into account, having a rough estimate of how many people were involved and knowing exactly which ship the people were going to be arriving on - even down to the container identification number itself. He would alert the PD when the time was right and he would be about done. This shouldn't be too much of a trouble for a one man operation to deal with... or, at least, so he thought.

By the time he changed to uniform and was geared up, sneaking about the harbor to reach the right pier, he noticed something wasn't right. There were signs that a fight took place here, trails of blood and marks of struggle all around. He didn't see any bodies, yet, but if the intruder was smart enough then they probably hid the bodies to not raise suspicion. He wasn't aware there was another active mask on this mission, nobody that he knew at least - and nobody that was willing to kill on purpose. None of the arrows were on this operation other than him, and all his friends and acquaintances weren't around... So who was here? Was this mission something bigger than he anticipated?

Moving around to get on a higher ground so he could have a better look about, he found a stack of shipment containers to climb and perched atop of it, getting his composite bow at the ready as he looked around. He noticed there were still a few guys around; someone was being smart and left a few key players. Again, smart.

Waiting patiently, perhaps he could ambush this mysterious participant once the ship arrives. Hopefully, they were on his side.

[alrightberries]

our sorry little hearts

❈ pairing: levi ackerman x fem!reader

❈ genre: angst. ❈ word count: 1.6k

❈ summary: Levi hasn’t seen your traitorous Eldian face in years.

❈ trigger warnings: profanity. war. mentions of blood, death, and violence.

a/n: you’ve heard of enemies to lovers, now get ready for... lovers to enemies. this takes place during the liberio invasion aka S4 E6. based on a love like war by all time low.

(also don’t tell anyone but this is me lowkey warming up after not writing for so long)

There’s something oddly nostalgic about seeing you again on the battlefield.

Levi recognizes your usual battle stance; feet a shoulder’s width apart and hands tightly clutching the handles of your sheathed blades. You’re wearing the scouting regiment’s outdated white uniform, green cape hiding the leather straps your missing brown jacket usually would. He’s not surprised you’re not wearing your wings of freedom jacket, though; he was, after all, the one who sliced it in half during your escape with Zeke on the Cart Titan’s back. He hasn’t seen it, but he’s positive that a long scar runs down the length of your spine.

“Levi,” he hears you murmur, and he pretends that his heart doesn’t ache after hearing his name slip from your lips for the first time in four years. “I—... Levi,”

He feels his chest tighten. You still look as beautiful as he remembers you to be, and the fact that you still take his breath away is something he hates. It’s been a long while since he last stood on a battlefield with you. Only this time, there were no trees to swing from or titans to kill; no reassuring squeezes on the shoulder or cheeky kisses when no one was looking; no small smiles or stolen glances across the field as your horses galloped through Titan Country. No— this time, you wore different colors and fought on opposing sides.

“Levi, talk to me,” your tone is airy, said in what seemed to be a mixture of built up anticipation and disbelief. But there was something in your voice— something he couldn’t quite place. Was it relief? Longing, perhaps? Maybe even regret. But Levi pushes those thoughts aside in favor of gritting his teeth and giving his traitorous wife a stone cold stare. “Levi, talk to me, please.”

He refuses to reply. His hands are shaking from how hard he was gripping the handles of his blades, and he swears his heart was going to burst out of his untrimmed chest from how loudly it beat at his ribcage. There are about a million and one emotions swirling around his head— betrayal. anger. sadness. melancholy.

And he doesn’t know which one takes over him when he charges at you full speed.

There’s a grunt followed by the sound of metal clashing against metal, and Levi’s not surprised to see that your reflexes are still as sharp as they were before. His own cape whips in the wind when he turns to land another strike. But then he hears sound of your hooks digging into bricks, and he’s quick to take your little fight to the air in pursuit of you.

He knows he has to be at the plaza to save Eren’s ass but he also knows that he had at least seven minutes before he had to go. He’ll make this quick.

“Levi,” he hears you call out. You’ve led him further away from the plaza— maybe intentionally or unintentionally, he doesn’t know— and he’s only now realizing that you both stood on the side of a building, the hooks on your gears the only thing keeping you up. “My love—-”

“—don’t call me that,” his heart twitches and he sneers. It’s the first thing he’s said to you in years and god did you miss his voice, miss him in general. “Don’t you fucking dare call me that,”

“Levi,” you breathe, but the deep growl that escapes his lips is enough for your words to die in your throat.

“Stop,” he says. “You’ve lost the right to speak my name; you’ve lost the right to wear that cape,” his eyes land on the silver chain you wore around your neck, a gold ring hanging in the middle. It matched the one he had back home, the one he secretly held at night and kissed sorrowfully when he felt like breaking down. His voice is quieter, almost pained as he speaks, “you’ve lost the right to wear that ring. You’ve lost the right to even look me in the eye after what you’ve done.”

His words sting and your throat tightens when you once again remember the look of pure and utter betrayal in his eyes when you confessed you were a spy on behalf of the Marleyan government. The way he froze, hoping you were lying; yet the tears running down your cheeks and the apologies that slipped from your lips as you got down on your knees and begged him for forgiveness left no room for contest.

“Levi, we don’t have to fight, please just hear me out. I’m still the wife you loved—-“

“No,” he cuts you off. “My wife is gone. She died in the battle for Shiganshina.” your lip quivers, and he continues to speak. “You? You’re an enemy. You’re as good as dead to me.”

Your words once again die on your tongue when he charges at you, and you just barely manage to leap away. The edge of his blade scrapes against your thigh, and blood paints your trousers red when your feet land on the cobblestone streets.

Every attempt you make after, any attempts at conversation is silenced with a swift swing of Levi’s blades, almost as if he were seeking catharsis through violence.

You grit your teeth. “You’re never going to listen to me, are you?”

His silence and steely glare is all the answer you need, and you sigh. Your stance shifts, and the grip on your blades changes; you were finally taking an offensive stance, Levi notices. Blocking his blows wouldn’t be enough— you couldn’t reason with him no matter how hard you tried, and you couldn’t win with just defense. You had to outsmart him; you had to win. You had to.

“I’m sorry, levi, but losing isn’t an option for me. Not this time,” you murmur.

You didn’t want to fight him, he could see it in your eyes. But you were fighting for something, for someone more important than him. Your eyes— the first things he fell in love with, the ones that were usually fiery and full of life— are soulless, almost solemn when he sees you run at him full speed, and Levi pushes down the hurt he felt at the thought of you loving another as he charges at you too.

A tear silently falls down your cheek. You loved levi, but you loved him more. You were fighting for him, and he was waiting for you back at home.

There’s a grey little building in the Liberio Intermittent Zone, somewhere between the gates and the plaza. The gunshots and explosions just barely reach the drab building, and the smoke rising into the air is the only thing visible to the naked eye of the chaos unfolding at the plaza.

A Marleyan soldier, donned in white and war medals, stands in front of an open window. She’s got binoculars in her hands, and she peeks through the eye piece to watch as two figures fight. Their capes create shadows of black where they flutter, and their silver blades gleam in the moonlight.

She smirks. Your negotiation failed, just like she said it would, and now you had no choice but to fight to the death.

Good, she thinks, that Eldian scum’s doing her end of the bargain.

She leans back and a satisfied hum leaves her lips. She turns to look at the little boy, no more than four years old, sat on the bed. The red Eldian arm band clasped around his arm brings a grimace to the soldier’s face. She can’t believe she got stuck with babysitting some lowlife scum.

“Is mommy doing well?” he asks timidly. He doesn’t even know that you were out there about to murder a man, but the kid was smart; he at least knew your job carried a heavy weight.

“For now,” she replies. The boy’s jet black hair bounces slightly as he nods, and his slanted eyes are downcast, staring at the floor. His silvery grey orbs dare not make contact with hers.

The boy looked almost nothing like you— if anything, she was sure he looked to be the spitting image of his unknown father. Strong genes, the father must’ve had.

She finds amusement in how tense the boy was around her; at least his whore of a mother had the decency to teach the kid his place in the world. He was worse than an Eldian, the lowest of the low— he was half Paradis demon. He should’ve never been born. They should’ve beaten you to death along with your unborn child like she’d suggested when you came back from Paradis knocked up.

“You can kill me, but spare my baby, please.” she remembers you begging. “I didn’t even know i was pregnant. Not even the father knows.”

Still, maybe it was a good choice to keep both you and the demon child alive. As much as she hated to admit it, you were a skilled soldier— one of the best they’ve ever had. Threatening your life meant nothing to you, but threatening your child’s? All they had to do was suggest it, and you’d follow their commands like an obedient dog chasing after a dangling treat.

“When’s mommy going to come home?” the boy suddenly asks.

“Soon,” she replies, eyes once again gazing through her binoculars. “If your mother does her job well, she’ll be back soon.” There’s a telephone beside the soldier, ready to make the call should you ever stop fighting. A sniper awaits her signal.

“If she doesn’t... well,” she laughs. The door to the small room you called home is locked, and the loaded gun hidden in the soldier’s pocket is a weight she’s familiar with. “Do you believe in god?”

“No,” the boy shakes his head. “Who’s that?”

“Tell you what, kid. if your mother fucks this up, i’ll personally see to it that you meet him soon enough.”

alrightberries © 2020. do not modify or repost.

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[kiljoytrout]

Oath of the Cherry Orchard

Based off this illustration by Emily Amiao as well as some details from her animatic The Other Side (check it out on her yt emilyamiao)

Summary: The rebels have won. Now all that's left for Yun on his long list of plans is for him and Elias to sign the sacred oath of the cherry orchard and formally end the war. But when mysterious characters cause familiar screams and snow bleeds red under the cherry trees, it's up to Yun to make some difficult decisions

Word Count: 3.3K

The cherry trees had been dusted in the fine sugar snow of late winter, but now they were covered in the sweet red syrup of fresh blood.

Pointing a gun at the head of his father, who in turn was ready to blow the brains out of the last prince of the Everstied royal family, Yun couldn’t figure out where everything had gone wrong. The subterfuge, the turmoil, he had thought it was all over. The crumbling remains of the Anwei Democratic Party and the prevailing rebels had come to the sacred cherry orchard, the place where Anwei was first woven together, in order to make an oath of peace, to stop the bloodshed that had torn the nation at its seams. Yun had known the possibility of treachery, expected it even, but not even his meticulous planning and preparation prepared him for what had occurred.

Elias had always been slightly apprehensive about the oath.

“ You’re certain the orchard is secure?”, he had asked earlier, for what was likely the hundredth time since the ceasefire.

“ For the last time, it is!”, groaned Yun, tossing a hair ribbon to Elias before taking a glance back at his uniformed self in the mirror.

It was indeed, for Yun had thought of absolutely everything: sniper in the peach grove, weapons check at the old Capitol entrance, dubious area patrol dismissed. Yun was an expert in pointing out the fatal chinks in his opponent’s armor, the weak spot that guaranteed victory, and there was nothing of the sort in his own. Or so he had thought.

When they had arrived at the cherry orchard, the diplomats from the ADP weren’t there yet. Elias raised his eyebrows at this, but Yun shrugged it off. Unlike Elias, he wasn’t used to people being at his beck and call; at any rate the delay gave him time to strategize terms for the closing treaty, which traditionally occurred after the ceremonial peace oath. Elias started squinting at the distance, shaking his head slightly to himself, before looking again at absolutely nothing. After about thirty seconds of this, Yun started to get irritated.

“Cool it, Elias. The trains from the old Capitol are practically snails with windows, it's no wonder they’re late.”

“ There they are, coming through the peach grove”, Elias responded, pointing to where Yun could now barely see the shadowy bulks of three figures walking through the garden towards them.

The two of them with thuggish bodyguard builds were lugging the sacred scrolls needed for the oath towards them. The man in the middle was taller, with an imposing stature that clearly defined him as the person who people would bow down to and the person who expected it. Yet, he had a cold crookedness to his features that was strikingly familiar. Elias blinked, rubbing his eyes before voicing what Yun had already figured out.

“ That’s-”

“Yes”

Yun knew that he couldn’t harm him, that the old Capitol had been purged of weapons and that the sniper were waiting at the only other entrance in the garden to institute peace by any means necessary. But even if every rifle in Anwei was at his disposal, he didn’t think he’d ever feel completely safe from him, the man who now faced them, sacred scrolls in hand.

“Son”

“ Father”

Both spat the words with so much venom that a string of obscenities would have been a more welcoming greeting. After a few seconds of tense staring (which took Elias jamming his riding boot into Yun’s shoddy shoe to dispel), his father sighed and looked up at the cherry trees, sweet red drops sprinkled with snow.

“Now that your insurrectionists are done tearing up the country it's about time to institute some peace.”

Yun snorted. Only his father could make the rebel’s historic takeover sound like a victory for the ADP.

“ How was your trip?”, asked Elias, his tone dripping with the polite contempt required by his princely position.

“ Rather taxing, but I’m sure it was necessary”

“I take it you didn’t appreciate the weapon screenings?”

The two guards knit their eyebrows in confusion at this, but Yun’s father took it in stride.

“ Seemed rather out of place for a diplomatic meeting, but then again my son has always liked his smoke and mirrors. Shall we get on to business?” he said.

“Sure.” 

Yun stepped forward, shaking snow off the shoulders of his navy jacket. He extended his frostbitten hand, not trembling a bit in the bitter cold because it was all finally over; his struggles with his father, the arduous battles to take back Anwei, they were all as hollow as cherry trees in the dead of winter. His father’s sneer twisted itself into a satisfied smile as he reached out his hand-

“Yun.”

Yun glanced sideways, but Elias wasn’t there anymore. Instead he was moving closer to the ADP guards, fingers fluttering at the edge of his now empty sword sheath like they always did when he was about to fight.

“Yes?”

Gaze never breaking away from the ADP, Elias continued “ What direction is the old Capitol entrance to the orchard?”

“ East”

“And where did our friends here just enter the orchard from?”

“From the Peach Grove in the -”

Yun stopped short.

“West.”

They had been tricked. No wonder the guards had looked so confused about the screenings, somehow they had bypassed them entirely. But what about the snipers in the Peach Grove and the Pear Garden? Wouldn’t they have sent a message that the ADP was sneaking in another way? Then Yun saw the barely discernible muzzle of a blackmarket gun poking out from between the holy scrolls, and he knew what had happened. For a single moment, nobody spoke, instead flaying each other's eyes, for any remaining sense of humanity, dignity, and civil peace to stop what was inevitable.

The guard on the left reached for the scroll. Whether it was to grab the gun or to pass the oath, Yun would never know, because Elias reached into his elaborate hairdo, whipped out three silver bladed throwing stars, each with the ornate gold accents of the Eversteid crest, and sent the first one ripping straight through the guard’s throat. Any other time Yun would have balked at the failure of his no-weapons plan on two levels, but sudden death appeared to be the ultimate catalyst to snapping out of it.

The resulting scuffle happened so fast that Yun could barely keep track of what he was doing let alone everyone else. The second guard had stooped to the ground in a futile effort to revive his cohort while Yun’s father rushed Elias, who was now swinging five throwing stars at an arm's length. Just when Yun absorbed what had happened, the second guard, thirsty for vengeance of any kind, picked up the gun that had spilled out of the scrolls and aimed it right at him. Yun dove out of the way, just as the first bullet whistled over his head, with a silencer so quiet, he could have missed the sound of gunfire in the falling snow. He scurried over to where a second gun had fallen from the scrolls, feeling it's cold metallic barrel freeze his fingertips, before hastily emerging from the underbrush to confront the second guard.

But the second guard and Yun’s father were several feet away, next to the struggling form of Elias, who the guard had tackled to the ground. His long lavender hair was fanned out behind him, and his treasure trove of throwing stars had been tossed into the snow.

“That one certainly gave us some trouble”, said Yun’s father as he plucked a late cherry off of a tree, the red juice running down his chin as he bit it.

“ That’s for sure. What about the other one?” the second guard replied, binding Elias’s hands with rope, as the latter yelled obscenities muffled by the heel of the guard’s boot.

“My good for nothing son is probably hiding like a coward in one of the other orchards. We’ll find him soon enough”

“Those traitors better pay for what they did to Kierek”, the second guard said, nodding towards the corpse of the first guard, Eversteid throwing star still in his throat.

“ We can take care of this one soon, and my son will be captured and sentenced once we reinstitute order”

“The orders were to kill them bo-”

“I said he will be captured. Do you understand?”

The second guard nodded, noting the violent gleam in his boss’s eyes.

“ But this one has no other use. The royals are too pigheaded to ever give up any information and we don’t have the time for a public execution.” said Yun’s father, spitting out the cherry pit.

“Dispose of him,”

The guard raised the gun to Elias’s head; Yun burst from the bushes and sprinted as fast as he could. He could feel his heartbeat in his ears, his stomach in his chest, he was going so fast that the snow fall had become an endless tunnel of white, with Elias at its center. The guard had no chance. Yun plowed through him like a meteor, driving him straight into the snow bank and knocking the gun out of his hands. Yun turned around to free Elias, but standing in his way was the crooked man who had made his life a series of slanting scowls and stolen smiles.

“Don’t you dare”,

his father snarled, the third gun cocked at his side, and his foot on a gasping Elias, who he had given a brutal kick in the ribs.

“Let him go!”

Yun had meant to sound intimidating but in the icy cold his voice thinned out to little more than a squeak, prompting a smirk from his father.

“Such big talk from a greasy little nobody. Just stand around waving that toy some more and we can wait until Roklin comes out of the snowbank and captures you.“

His father was where Yun got his ability to spot weak spots. And Yun’s father had always known exactly where his son’s were.

“We both know you’re really not going to do anything. Even when you were little you were always loudmouth with no spine, crying for mommy, so why don’t you-”

While Yun’s weak spots may have been the same as when he was younger, his temper was twice as short. He rushed his father, blood pounding in his ears, but stumbled on a stray root before faceplanting right back onto the snowy ground. He heard the crack before he felt the pain pumping through his broken nose. The brackish tears came instantly as did his father’s wolfish laughter, hoarsely echoing dead wood.

Amidst the relentless pounding in his head and nose, Yun’s foot kicked aside the stray root that had caused his bloody humiliation. A rather metallic stray root. Yun jolted up, reeling as he snatched Roklin’s half buried pistol from the snow and pointed it straight at his father.

“You wouldn’t have the guts,” scoffed his father, aiming his own firearm at the temple of a wheezing Elias.

Click. Yun cocked the gun.

A moment of silence. The cold wind whipped Yun’s bloody, tearstained face; snowflakes melted in his loose, dark hair; his earring, a miniature rebel flag, waved back and forth in the bitter breeze. He couldn’t be that boy, could he? The one holding a gun to his father? The one who had to make a shot that would haunt him for the rest of his days? No. In that moment Yun was nothing but a cherry tree: frosted with snow, watered with blood, and staunchly rooted in a history that would never be chopped down.

“I wish I didn’t have to do this”

Right as he pulled the trigger, a steel wall slammed into him. Smothered under the heavy armor of the second guard, who had managed to pull himself up from the snowbank, Yun extricated himself just in time to hear the dull thud of a bullet meeting flesh. But the low canine howl that Yun had steeled himself for never came. Instead, a sharp, shocked cry, that could only come from one person.

When he was five, Yun and his friends were running around in the grass, when one of them fell and cut their knee on a jagged rock. The world seemed to separate into colors at that moment : the treacherous gray of the rock, an eggshell pale face of shock, and of course, the crimson that had stained the grass below their feet. The injured child was quickly escorted back home by their guardian, where their sobs were staunched with a piece of candy. But Yun couldn’t stop crying. He had felt no physical pain, his skin was intact, his blood was unspilt, but he had seen all of that and more in his friend’s eyes, the fire, the horror, of being at one moment whole and the next moment not, that Yun had felt it more acutely then if the wound were his own. If that was bad, then seeing Elias, prostrate on the snowy ground of the cherry orchard, a red sea flowing out of the gorey hole in his shin, was a thousand times worse.

Spooked, his father lunged aside, just in time to collide with the second guard, who charged past him through the orchard with seemingly endless adrenaline, his icy obligation to his commander melting away to wet fear.

“ Elias!” screamed Yun, running over to him, ripping off his own uniform jacket and wrapping it around Elias’s leg in a desperate attempt to staunch the gushing blood that poured forth like the pulsing rivers of Anwei. Elias’s face had the same shock as the boy from Yun’s childhood, but so much paler, and with every second he resembled more and more a sculpture made from the snow he was dying on. “Hold on hold on hold on” Yun hiccuped, tying the makeshift tourniquet as tight as he could. Tears blurred his vision, but in the periphery he saw a crooked man gathering the torn scrolls of peace from the ground.

The sight made Yun forget all about Elias and he dropped the tourniquet, concentrating all of his drained energy into raising his blood splattered pistol at the back of his fleeing father. Before he could pull the trigger, his target turned around, but instead of booking it out of the orchard, raised his arms in a scorching surrender.

C’mon just do it, just do it, just do it, Yun thought, Prove him wrong just this once. But his steely self commands froze at his finger, which remained entrenched at the top of the trigger, refusing to push down. Amidst his rancid rage, exhausted adrenaline, and salty tears, he knew one glimmering truth. If Yun pulled that trigger, the last remains of his energy would be spent, and he would collapse into the snow next to a wounded Elias. They would die, they would disappear under the earth, and they would be cherry trees half dead in winter, embracing branches, bleeding fruit, screaming snow.

But Yun always had a plan, and even when he didn’t, the end goal was always the same.

Elias.

Yun would never give him up, even as acid burned through his veins when he pried his frostbitten fingers from the bloody pistol and dropped it into the snowbank, even when his father slinked off through the peach garden with an unreadable expression on his crooked, familiar face, even when he realized how far away the orchard gates were and how he had ordered the night patrol to stay away for his goddamn security measures; no matter how beautiful it was, the cherry orchard would never take Elias as long as Yun could still trick his paper form into the softest pulse of life.

Slippery warm blood, bone breaking cold, rotten raw heart; that was all he could remember for weeks afterward. Mia, Elias’s little sister, and her girlfriend Celine visited him at the hospital everyday, trying to coax him into revealing how a simple peace oath led to all of this. They told him that he was a hero, that he had half-carried, half-dragged Elias past the orchard gates, that a little girl had found them collapsed near her swing set, more dead than alive. But the only question he ever wanted an answer to was always met with avoided glances, shaking heads, and uncertain words. Lost a lot of blood, infected wound, critical condition.

But after a lot of begging, bribing, and borderline blackmailing, Yun was finally allowed a brief visit. The doctor took him down an endless fluorescent corridor, stopping in front of a room with a rusty sign reading Post Operation.

“Only ten minutes!” chirped the nurse as she opened the creaking door, and bolted away, green tea pipe in hand for a smoke break.

Yun crashed into the room, but stopped short when he saw Elias, wrapped in a thin blanket on a too small cot, where he could see a single sock-covered foot hanging off the end. The patient, on seeing him, gave a slight smile, and tried to raise himself up to sitting position.

“Let me” said Yun, walking over to the bed, fluffing and stacking the pillows for a head rest as he observed the tinctures and bandages littering the dinky nightstand.

Among them was a pamphlet emblazoned in cheerful yellow with: Adjusting to Your Amputation. Yun snapped his head back towards Elias, who averted his gaze towards the end of the bed. Without asking for permission, Yun yanked the blanket off the cot, exposing next to a bandaged and blistered leg, a stitched up stump connected to a polished wooden crutch.

“ They’re putting a more refined one in next week. I’ll need to use a wheelchair at first, but after some time I can adjust to a cane.”

The guilt took a second to set in, but when it did, Yun wanted to submerge himself in the oiliest, blackest sea and never come out.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god,”

“Why are you crying? I’m the one with the botched leg,” said Elias, the amused tilt to his statement falling flat when he saw Yun’s crushed expression.

“Oh my god, this is my fault, I can’t believe I shot you, I should have aimed better, I should have shot him faster, oh my god, oh my-”

“Hey, HEY!”, said Elias, grabbing Yun’s flailing hands with the reflexes of an ace swordsman.

“Look at me. Look at me. You got me out of there. It’s like I used to tell my sister whenever she messed up at something: whatever mistakes made back there are dead, but you aren’t. It's going to be an uphill battle from here and I need you supporting me, not blaming yourself.”

Yun nodded.

“Okay?”

“Okay”

“Now come over here and tell me about the new siege on the Old Capitol. But first close the door. If that horrid nurse comes back here stinking of burnt tea again, I’m breaking out my sword, prosthetic or not.”

At this, Yun’s tears finally dried into loud snickering; Elias chimed in with some decidedly non-aristocratic chuckles. This continued until the nurse in question barged back into the room, smoke curling from her nostrils as she demanded they keep it down. Yun and Elias practically roared with laughter; a loving crack of relief as deadwood came back to life.

[willownoir1112]

Hello beautiful people of Tumblr! Wyn here with day one of White Rose Week 2021 to break my silence! I hope everyone enjoys, and I'll see you tomorrow with day 2!

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Love Bites

Summer Rose vanished, and Ruby suffered.

All her life, all Ruby has ever wanted was to belong. She tries so hard to fit in, first with her older sister's friends. But, they all told her to go away. That she's a baby compared to them. "Why would I want to bring you too?" Yang would always declare. "You're still just a baby!" Her friends would laugh with her, call her names as well, and leave her behind just like Yang did.

Her sister's words hurt her, and destroyed any chance of them having a sisterly relationship.

She tried so hard to be a good daughter. But, her father spent more of his time worrying about his troops, his responsibilities, his duties to Goddess and Country. "One day you will understand, Ruby." He would always tell her. "One day, you'll have to make the same sacrifices for a family of your own." His words never changed, nor his actions. He would be gone constantly, leaving her and Yang alone for weeks or even months at a time, meaning she had to grow up far too quickly.

Her father's priorities hurt her and robbed her of her childhood.

She tried so hard to be a good student. But, subjects like english, history, anything really to do with reading simply didn't make sense to her. She could stare at the page of a book for hours and all she could see is a jumble of letters. Everyone called her simple, stupid, a waste of time. "Oh look, it's little Stupid Ruby!" Cardin Winchester would declare every day at school. He and his cronies would torment and belittle her, and once even cut her long hair off. She suffered in silence, her arms the only evidence of her inner pain. Arms she always kept covered even in the worst heat of summer.

Her peers hurt her with their words, with their actions, and made her withdraw further into herself.

She finally stopped being a good sibling. She shut her sister out of her life first, Yang never noticing that Ruby stayed closeted in her room constantly. She was the bright shiny sun of everyone else's lives, with her outgoing and boisterous personality. Everyone's but Ruby's. If Yang is the bright sun, then Ruby has become the darkest moon of the family, and she likes it that way now.

She finally stopped being a good daughter. She did her chores without complaint and without needing to be told, save late at night when her father would already be in bed or Yang too preoccupied with her latest significant other. He never noticed that his younger daughter dresses in nothing but blacks and reds, or that she never let her hair grow back longer than above her shoulders. The career he chose to continue to support his family had a long ago casualty, and Ruby keeps it that way.

She finally stopped being a good student. She kept going to school, despite all but failing in everything. She went through the motions, ignored everyone when they called her things like Queen of Darkness or Salem's heir, or even worse. She ignored the shoves, the bullying, everything done to her until they all finally grew bored of it and her. She was finally left alone to sit in the deepest corner of all her classes, doodling to pass the time until she could return to her room and her solitude.

But then Ms. Peach, the choir director, invited the secretly shy and lonely girl to her class one day and encouraged her to sing. From the moment she heard the piano play, her soul became exultant, and her voice rose in response. Even Principle Ozpin, who was walking by at that moment stopped and listened as the shy, moody, rather dark girl who kept to herself was in possession of a voice that could bring even him to tears. Peach was enthusiastic in teaching her how to read music, how to project her voice, how to truly appreciate her hidden talent for music.

But, Taiyang finally noticed when he was forced to retire. He noticed the true state of his family, and decided to take firm control. He destroyed her growing dreams when he declared she and Yang both were to join Beacon Military Academy to finish school. That they needed discipline and not freedom to thrive like he once did. That neither of his children will follow in his long disappeared wife's footsteps, and lack the discipline needed to succeed where she obviously failed.

He was furious when Glynda Goodwitch admitted her as Ruby, allowing her to keep that one small bit of freedom.

She suffered like never before at Beacon. She was admitted two years early as a favor to her father, and she hated it. Her hate translated itself into her becoming a powerful fighter with her chosen weapon, a red and black fifty caliber sniper scythe she named Crescent Rose, and soon where she was once either dereided or ignored, she was now feared. Even her own sister fears her now, and that makes her happy.

She is the Darkest Reaper of Vale, and she hates them all.

But one person did not fear her. One person saw past her pain, her grief for her denied life. Weiss was from Atlas, a mysterious, inclusive land far to the north, where they say even the Grimm do not tread. A land of dark magic, of creatures even fouler than the enemy of the world. A land even the demiurge Salem has forsaken. Weiss did not fear the Darkest Reaper, and took an odd delight in hearing the whispers about her, about them both.

She has her own secrets, secrets Ruby will know all too soon.

She cannot help but to feel an attraction to the white haired girl from the north. Her porcelain skin is always smooth and cool to the touch. Her brilliant blue eyes are like the clear blue skies she would once sit under with her long departed mother while they laugh and imagine whimsical beasts and imaginary places. Her long white hair moves like the finest of silk curtains as she walks from class to class, her nose turned up to their peers as if they are all beneath her. All except for her. She treats the Reaper with respect, with courtesy, and after a time, holds out a hand of friendship to her, one she takes willingly.

She finally has a friend, a real friend. Someone who cares for her, Ruby Rose.

But certain things stand out to her as well. The way she barely eats anything but meat, and even then almost bloody and nearly raw. The way she approaches every mock battle with the cunning of a predator on the hunt. The skill with which she wields her rapier, a dust revolver styled weapon she has named Myrtenaster, with near lethal intent even during the simplest of spars against anyone willing to challenge her. She is the only one who can stand against her, her own formidable rage and loathing a match for the heiress's feral cunning and ferocity.

But one late night, during a restless night they both secretly shared, a truth is told, and their lives are changed forever.

She herself couldn't sleep. It was the one thing she could always count on being able to do. It was her refuge from the reality of her world, and she retreated to it every chance she could. But tonight, she tosses and turns, she begs and pleads with the treacherous brain that won't stop thinking, and finally surrenders and gets dressed. Taking up her scythe, she easily steals away into the Emerald Forest, the guards ignoring her out of fear. She runs deeply into the darkened woods, no fear for the Grimm that hide in the shadows as well as whatever other creatures may dwell within.

She never realizes that a pair of blue eyes follow her, belonging to the single person who doesn't fear her. The only person who is beginning to secretly adore her.

She finally stops near the old temple to the Brother of Light, which has been long abandoned when he left Remnant to it's fate. Sitting down, she begins to cry deep tears of pain and sorrow. She hates her life now, she hates being taught to kill, to end the lives of others. She despises the fact that she is good at it. She never wanted this. All she ever wanted was to be a good sibling, a good daughter, a good student. All she ever wanted was to belong, to love a certain white haired girl and be loved in return.

She almost screams in terror when the great white furred head lays in her lap, with sad blue eyes that reflect her pain.

She stares at the great beast, marveling at the fact that a wolf has appeared here. One of the few things she has managed to remember from her poor studies is that the Grimm killed all the wolves when they first came to Vale. None were spared, and somehow she knows this one knows that. To her surprise, she begins to pet the wild creature, smiling softly at the way it's tail begins to wag as it whines. And then she begins to talk to it. She talks about her mother, her father, her sister, her life. She is soon sobbing in grief at the sadness of her life thus far, and is surprised to see tears in the white wolf's eyes as well.

But she forgot that sorrow is a feast for the Grimm, and they soon gather around her and the white wolf both.

She makes her decision. She throws her scythe to the ground and gives in completely to her sorrow. She is so tired. She is so tired of being turned into someone she wants nothing to do with. She's so tired of hoping people will finally love her instead of hate her or fear her. She is so tired of dreaming of a pair of blue eyes that will never look lovingly at her. She is ready, and the Grimm will feed well on her. But she doesn't expect the snarling, the sudden sounds of battle. Opening her silver eyes, they widen as she sees the once four legged wolf has vanished, a naked Weiss snarling in her rage as she wields Myrtenaster against the foul creatures.

"YOU KILLED THEM ALL!"

She stares at the rage filled young woman. She's never seen her fight with this much savagery, this much hate. Even in battles in which she is outclassed or outnumbered, she is still controlled. She uses superior tactics, the icy calm she is infamous for, and her obviously hidden rage to still rip victory from the jaws of defeat.

"ALL THE PACKS OF VALE ARE DEAD!"

She picks Crescent Rose back up. The white haired girl is beginning to frighten her, and she does not frighten easily. She watches in growing terror as an Alpha Beowolf appears, howling in challenge, Weiss's answering howl frightening her to her very soul. She watches as the white haired woman tosses her sword to the side and begins to growl as she grows. She listens to the popping of bone and sinew as fur begins to spring from her bare skin. She stares on in horror as the one friend she has ever made turns into…

A werewolf. A creature from Remnant's darkest stories has come to life before her, and is defending her while taking vengeance for the long dead wolves of Vale.

"You will not hurt my Ruby…"

She screams as Weiss leaps towards the Alpha, her fangs bared and her still hand shaped front paws slashing at the creature of darkness. The Alpha charges her as well, it's own jaws wide open to bite and tear at the white werewolf, it's own claws slashing at her unarmored and exposed flanks. She hears her friend's scream of pain as the Alpha strikes harder than she can, and causes more damage than she can possibly manage in return, and she finally leaps into action. Weiss is the first person to be her friend. She is the first person to treat her like a person. She is the first person she's allowed herself to start having feelings for in her short life.

She may be ready to die, but she will not let Weiss die for her own selfish desires.

Crescent Rose strikes the Beowolf quickly, breaking the Alpha and the werewolf apart as the Grimm leaps back to avoid the deathblow Ruby aims at it. But Ruby is enraged now. She sees the bright red blood upon the moonlit ground, and it adds to her fury. She hears the whimpers of the injured wolf, and it increases her rage. She roars in her righteous anger as her scythe becomes a blur, the Alpha soon howling in pain before Ruby's final blow comes in her scythe hooking around its neck before she pulls the trigger, decapitating the beast with one final roar of triumph. It takes her a moment to calm herself, a long moment in which she has forgotten her anger, her sorrow, her self loathing. And then she finally remembers Weiss. In a panic, she begins to look for her friend, desperate to ensure that she is safe.

It doesn't take her long to find her, and her scream of anguish can be heard back at Beacon.

Weiss has managed to get back to a small cave, her clothes as well as some supplies stacked neatly in the back. She herself is panting heavily as blood flows steadily from her injuries. But her tail thumps on the ground weakly as Ruby slides to the ground in front of her. She doesn't hesitate, but begins to treat the slashing wounds, bandaging them carefully while doing her best to ignore the pain filled shrieks from the badly injured werewolf.

"Oh Goddesses, I'm so sorry, Weiss. I'm so so sorry!" Is her litany as she keeps at her work, until the blood finally stops. Until the white wolf goes silent save for her panting.

The sun rises, then sets once more, but Ruby has yet to leave the white werewolf's side. Weiss has slept the entire time, but she has stayed awake. She is too scared to close her eyes, terrified that if she relaxes her vigil for even a moment, she will lose the most important person in her life. But her body's needs will not be denied, and she finally falls asleep, the large canine head still in her lap and her grip firm on Crescent Rose's handle.

She dreams of white fur and sky blue eyes. Of days spent watching the skies and laughing. Of feeling loved once more, and being confident in being able to return that love.

She moans as she feels the urgency of the lips on her own. Of the feeling of cold skin upon her own now bare skin. Of cold hands exploring her body and her own hands wandering across smooth, uninjured skin in return. She moans in longing as lips caress her skin with feather light kisses. As her own fingers discover places on the other willing body that bring moans of pleasure from a voice she has come to adore since beginning at Beacon.

But she moans loudly as teeth sink into her collarbone, a tender, almost loving bite from the woman she knows she loves deeply.

"Ruby…" Her voice is husky as she releases the love bite, full of longing and need. She can feel a certain heat against her leg that is foreign to the cold that the rest of her skin belies. She herself feels so hot, so needed. She has never felt like this before, and she wants more. She needs more. But her eyes widen as she catches her lover's hands as they grab at the hem of her panties, her face full of fear once more.

"Weiss… I…"

"I know, Ruby." Weiss smiles softly at the Reaper. "I know what you are. But I have wanted you for months now. Since I saw your strength for myself. Since I got to know the real you, and not your mask of anger and self loathing that you hide behind."

"Weiss…"

"Ruby, I am the last of my pack." The werewolf informs her sadly. "I came to Vale seeking the packs that once roamed here, hoping to join them and be safe." She sighs sadly, her blue eyes dimming. "I am beginning to fear I am the last of my kind."

She sits up and pulls the werewolf into her arms. She knows all the signs of sorrow, being well acquainted with them herself. "I… Weiss I'm damaged. Why would you want someone like me?"

Their eyes meet, quicksilver staring into sky blue. "Because I have been alone since I was a child. But you make me feel like I am home now." She cuddles deeper into the Reaper's arms. "I feel safe with you, and I know I can trust you with my secret."

Ruby takes a moment to think, to gather her thoughts while considering everything she has been told. But her thoughts always return to a pair of sky blue eyes she loves to look into. Coming to a decision, she lifts the werewolf's face by her chin with a single finger and kisses her deeply, while her free hand pulls her even closer.

This may be a mistake, but it is going to be the best one she ever makes.

The cavern is soon filled with their moans, their cries of pleasure, their whispered words of love, their need for one another. Their lovemaking is tender at times, frenzied at others, and intense throughout. Morning found them once again asleep, this time in each other's arms and in a tangle of limbs, a part of Ruby still inside the white werewolf, who smiles as she sleeps deeply. They wake upon that glorious morning and decide that Beacon has nothing left for them, and decide to seek their fortunes elsewhere. Someplace where no one knows either of them.

Someplace where their future children can grow up safely…

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Weiss declares her love for her, and for the werewolf, she will throw everything away for a future with her...

Ruby opens one silver eye, smiling at the blue eyed pup staring back at her eagerly as she whines. Sitting up, she yawns as she stretches, her mouth opening wide as her fangs gleam in the light of the morning sunlight. Bowing her head down low, she nuzzles the white haired silver eyed pup tenderly before the two of them leave the comforts of the small, modest home she and Weiss have built together. It has been a decade since she and the white werewolf left Vale far behind and traveled to Mistral. To their surprise, as they explored the deepest parts of the wilds of Anima, they encountered a village full of others like Weiss, led by a lioness named Pyrrha Nikos and her own mate, a human woman named Nora.

She had heard of Pyrrha, who had been reported killed in a massive battle at Haven Academy. A report fabricated by the woman herself so she too could escape with her own mate and their hard won freedom...

They had met so many others, who had fled the destruction of their own packs and prides, their own groups and hutches. They met Velvet, who was a kind and gentle soul of a wererabbit and her mate Coco, who was the heiress of Mistral's largest corporation and their secret benefactor. They met Blake, a panther who loves to read, and her chameleon mate Ilia. There had even been a tearful reunion between Weiss and her older sister Winter, who had also barely survived the destruction of their pack and had also fled. They even met a pair of birds who squabbled constantly, an overly violent Raven and her dusty, drunken Qrow of a brother.

But the biggest shock comes when they reach one small cabin in particular, where a lonely woman lives. A lonely woman long thought vanished by the young woman, but who in truth had been forced to leave by the man she thought loved her.

Ruby sobs as she rushes into her mother's arms, Summer Rose holding her tightly as she too weeps in joy. A mother and her daughter are reunited to their eternal joy, and Weiss cheers in her happiness for them both.

They talked late into the night, the white werewolf asleep in her mate's lap as mother and daughter catch themselves up on years of their lives. Summer is livid at how Ruby has been treated, how she has suffered for so long because of her absence. Ruby had been furious to discover that her mother had been driven off due to a twist of fate, as she had been bitten by another werewolf during a mission. She had been bitten to save her life, and had been punished for it.

Ruby made her own decision that same night, and smiled as her beloved sank her fangs into her skin in a love bite that would change her forever. She turned willingly, determined that Weiss, her sister, and her own mother will not be the last of their kind.

She quietly cheered her mother onward as she found the courage to move on with Raven, who adored her and treated her with kindness, respect, and love. She had happily held her baby sister when she was born two years later, Weiss still at her side and a smile on her own face to match the look of peace in her eyes. She and Weiss had themselves celebrated the birth of their twin pups a year later, naming them after both their mothers.

But the biggest surprise is still to come.

She still checks her scroll from time to time, she and Pyrrha both agreeing that they cannot remain ignorant of the outside world. There is still danger out there, both from the humans and faunus as well as the Grimm, and all while quietly offering safe haven to others like them, as well as their families. They as well as Raven and Nora are the defenders and leaders of their small community, and they take their responsibilities seriously. But Ruby had been surprised to find an email waiting for her one day, when she had travelled far to the south before turning it on, a feat she can accomplish with ease thanks to her semblance and now enhanced senses and superior stamina.

She never expected to hear from her sister ever again.

Downloading it, she returns to the village and her mate, asking her to read it for her. Weiss of course does so, having been the one who finally helped the Reaper figure out that she was not stupid like everyone in her life claimed, but struggled with severe dyslexia. She and Summer have been helping her learn to finally read and write, but it is a slow process, one she still finds herself getting frustrated with as well as embarrassed. Opening it, she soon stops to summon Summer, the two of them sobbing at the state of the brawler's life since they fled. Tai has placed his blame on his eldest for her disappearance, and she has suffered greatly for it. Her life is a disaster now, and she has already been in a failed marriage. She begs Ruby to at least reassure her that she is alive, that she is at least doing well, that her suffering is worth it if it means that the sister she long ignored is finally happy.

That they have traded places, and that her sister is finally whole in spirit and at peace.

Pyrrha does not hesitate to give her permission to bring Yang back. To allow them to reunite, so that she can see for herself that her wishes are indeed true, and that Ruby is happy and thriving. She goes and meets Yang at Mistral's airship port, where the two of them meet in a long overdue hug between sisters, and not the strangers they have been all their lives. They return together, where Yang is also overjoyed to be reunited with her own mother, Raven. Ruby herself nods in satisfaction that her sister is on her way to a peace of mind she now enjoys, and is grateful that she too settles into life in their village, calling it home as well.

Only she and Weiss bear witness to Winter sinking her fangs into Yang's flesh, the two of them falling in love in this place they too call home.

Summer and Luna play happily with the other children, who include their cousins and their aunt. They are gentle with their younger brother, and fiercely protective of their newborn sister. Ruby and Weiss have slowly become the leaders of their still growing safe haven, and lead both by excellent example as well as with hard learned wisdom and knowledge. They share a deep, beautiful commitment to one another that many envy, one forged in mutual understanding and undying love.

Weiss Schnee came into Ruby's life, and she has prospered...

[breanime]

Bre’s Boys Preference: How They React To You Being in Danger

Billy Russo: Billy is merciless. While you’re life is at stake, everyone and anyone is on his shit list. He is ready and willing to kill anyone who gets in his way of saving you, and when he finds the people who threatened your life in the first place... Heads will roll. You’re his, and he will do anything to keep you safe. Anyone who tries to take you from him is dead. He doesn’t sleep, doesn’t eat, doesn’t rest until he gets you back and he’s practically bathed in his enemy’s blood. And even then, he’s still on edge. His anger is so strong and palatable, every inch of him is tense, he moves like a panther in the jungle, ready to attack at all times. The only thing that brings him any peace is you; he’s carefully controlled around you, touching you gently once he has you back in his arms. And as he holds you, he says those three words that Billy Russo never imagined hearing himself say: “I’m so sorry”.

Logan Delos: He panics. Like, it takes him a while to regain his composure. He’s on the floor, eyes wide and full of tears, chest heaving as he thinks of all of the horrible things that could be having to you. But he gathers himself, standing up on his shaky legs, and does whatever he can to get you back. He spares no expensive, hiring the most capable people to track you down, and he insists on going with them. Once he has you back, Logan finally allows himself to cry openly, his head buried in your hair. “Don’t ever leave me again,” he says, as if you’d left on your own accord, “I was so scared... I love you, I love you, I love you”.

Jax Teller: Jax wants BLOOD. He calls on the club, and they do whatever it takes to bring you back to him. Jax doesn’t care who gets in his way--he mows them down with ease to get to you. No one can get through to him--not Clay, Gemma, Opie, or Chibs--Jax is willing to set Charming on fire to get you back. And when he does get you back, he’s still not done. He holds you to his chest, so hard that it almost hurts, and he promises to never let this happen again. He makes it his personal mission to track down every single person who had anything to do with your abduction--no matter how low level they were--and make them pay. 

Coco Cruz: Coco gets so upset, he blacks out for a minute. The last thing he remembers doing is punching a hole in the wall. When he comes to, he doesn’t wait for Bishop’s approval; he just hits the street with Angel and Gilly. It doesn’t take him long to get to you--he uses his sniper skills to shoot down any and every obstacle that gets in his way. Every word out of his mouth is “fuck” or “shit”, and when he comes face to face with the person who put your precious life in danger--he takes great pleasure in stabbing him nice and slow, watching the life drain from his eyes. Then he’s over to you, grabbing you and pulling you to him, assessing you for injuries. If there are any--he’s memorizing them, categorizing them in his mind because he believes that they were all his fault. “I’m so sorry, querida,” he says, “I’m so sorry...” 

Angel Reyes: Angel calls EZ, and the two brothers hit the road. Eventually, the club catches up to them, and the Mayans track you down within a day. The entire time they’re looking for you, Angel’s blood is red hot. He can’t sit still, he can barely breathe, he breaks all of the speeding laws to get to you. He’s surprisingly callous in his revenge, killing without hesitation, without joy. But when he gets to you, it’s like he wakes up from a nightmare--his eyes are warm again, and when he touches you, his caresses are gentle and careful. Angel doesn’t let you out of his sight for days after that, always holding you and kissing you. And when he does have to leave you alone for more than a few hours, he insists on having EZ come sit with you, or takes you to Felipe’s until he can come and get you. 

Miguel Galindo: If his half-brother is all heat and fire, Miguel is ice-cold. He’s methodical with his anger, making sure to dispatch men to all corners of the country in search of you. But he isn’t sitting idle, Miguel is out too, Nestor and Alvarez at his side. He takes a few people off of the street and plops them down on his church pew. He spends a nice deal of time cutting limbs off and collecting information, and by the end of it all, he’s led to you. Miguel picks you up and carries you away, and for the rest of the night, he’s taking care of you. He puts you in the tub, sliding in behind you and holding you close. After that, he’s lathering you up with your favorite scents and then rubbing you down with lotions. He can’t stop kissing you, and as you sleep--finally able to rest now that you were safe--he watches you, his dark eyes staring at you while his head conjures up all the ways he could have lost you, and he vows...this will never happen again. 

Nick Amaro: Nick calls upon his brothers in blue when he finds out that you’re in danger. The NYPD (as unruly as they are), leave no stone unturnt in their search of you. Nick is so tense, he can barely take a step without flipping a chair or punching a wall. He’s just seen so many terrible things in his career, the thought of anything like that happening to you... It makes his want to scream. He reaches Stabler-levels of aggression when interviewing witnesses and suspects, and he’s almost taken off the case, but Benson has his back. When he finds you, Nick holds you close, his embrace both firm and careful as he holds you. He’s with you all the way, sitting with you at the hospital, staying at your side when you’re interviewed by the cops; Nick doesn’t leave you for a second. He’s still a bit on edge, but your presence definitely helps calm him as the night goes on. And when he lays down with you that night, he finally lets himself relax. 

Johnny Tuturro: Johnny trusts and respects your ability to protect yourself, he really does, but he’s still worried when you go missing. He spends all day trying to track you down, and when he can’t, he turns to Charlie. She’s the one who discovers that you’re in danger, and once she does--the whole house is on alert. Johnny, Mike, and Briggs hit the streets in search of you, and once the find the ones who took you, Mike and Briggs have to pull Johnny off of them. When Johnny gets to you, he softens immediately, holding you and whispering how scared he was, telling you “you’re okay, you’re okay” for a minute straight. It’s hard for him, after that, not to get a knot of anxiety in his chest whenever you go out, but he knows that you know what you’re doing, and worse come to worse--he’ll always be there for you when you need him. 

Rio: No smiles, no smirks, no chuckles. Rio is all business. He’s armed to the teeth, and anyone can see the tension in his body as he moves, his eyes glaring ahead of him. Rio takes no prisoners and pulls no punches. Either someone gives him the information he needs and only gets a little fucked up, or they tell him no, or something he doesn’t like, and get killed. Either way, he finds his way to you quickly, leaving a trail of blood in his wake. Rio doesn’t waste time on extravagant speeches or showboating once he finds you. He puts a bullet in the guy’s skull, and then empties the clip in him for extra measures. Then and only then, does he let his body unclench. He keeps a hand on you at all times; a hand on your thigh as he drives you home, his fingers in your hair as he undresses you, his mouth on yours as he holds your naked body to his. Rio treats you like a queen always, but he’s especially soft and gentle with you now. Afterwards, you lay in bed together, and he can’t take his eyes off of you. “Go to sleep, mama,” he says, a small smile on his face, “I ain’t going nowhere...and neither are you.” 

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Thanks for reading! Please let me know what you think! This was unapologetically self-indulgent of me haha (requests are still closed)

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[batarella]

The Commander - Part 8 (Arkham Knight x Reader)

We finally know the Commander’s history! Leave a comment and tell me what you think!

WORDS: 3165 WARNINGS: VIOLENCE. ANGST. WEW.

Masterlist

THE COMMANDER - MASTERLIST

-----

Breathe in. Breathe out.

One thousand yards.  Only a hundred yards further than the last one. This should be the farthest she’ll hit. If she actually does hit it. There were a number of birds flying over the trees standing above them. She wanted to hit them instead, but they weren’t far enough.

She only barely hit nine hundred yards yesterday. Once out of the thirty times she tried over and over again. A thousand will have to take the whole of her senses away. If only she could block out her own sense of touch, that would be great. She didn’t need them when firing a sniper.

And there was tall grass in her optics as well. Some yellow, some green, and they waved around with the wind. The target was already small as it is. She could barely see it with all these plants in the way.

She squared her shoulders, placed her good eye on the scope and breathed. She pulled the trigger and felt the sharp recoil on her shoulder.

She’d learned to ignore the ringing that came after it.

After a minute, Uncle placed a hand on her other shoulder, and her stomach sank. That wasn’t good. With binoculars on his other hand, he murmured. “A bit off to the left. Again.”

Young Y/N bit her gum. She was hungry. But there was no getting anywhere if she kept doing it like this. She quickly reloaded the rifle and placed her elbow on top of her folded knee, with the other one flat on the ground.

Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.

The recoil felt just a tad bit more painful. Y/N looked into the scope and still, the bullet hole hit slightly to the right.

“What’s going on?” Uncle asked her. He wasn’t mad. This was her first time at a thousand yards.

“I think it’s the wind.”

“You can't work around the wind. If you keep crying about how it ruins your shots, you’ll never hit the center.”

“I know.”

“Again.” He folded his arms in front of his chest.

Breathe. Keep breathing.

And she did it. Over and over and over. Kept breathing, pulling the trigger, the pain in her shoulder less and less bearable.

Just another day. She got over it a long time ago.

“I can't do it, Uncle.”

“Yes you will.” His voice was stern. He never got angry. But she never pushed him enough to go ballistic on her either.

“I want to go home.”

“Fire the shot, Y/N.”

The ringing on her right ear became harder to ignore. She was gonna go deaf if this kept going on.

“Slow your heartbeat. I can feel you getting tense.”

The sun was starting to fall under, and the country side was a dark place if not for the sun. She’ll have three hours for her nap. Tops. Before they leave for the city tonight. The mafia leader who hired him wanted an entire rival gang gone. Uncle told her it was good if she came along, maybe even pull the trigger herself if it was close enough.

“I’m scared about tonight.”

“Stop being scared,” he said. “This is how you learn.”

“What if Batman and that red and yellow sidekick comes around again? We barely made it out the last time.”

They ambushed her and her uncle up on a rooftop. Robin was a hard one to fight off, and the snarky remarks he made while she tried her best landing a good one in the head didn’t help either. Like a parrot that just wouldn’t shut up.

“Two Face has been paid to stage a bank robbery as a distraction. Either he takes care of that or a warehouse full of drug dealers.”

Y/N had her gun lowered. Her limbs began giving out.

“Again.”

Breathe. Again. Slow the heart.

She looked back into the scope and fired.

xxxxx

Every single day. She’s held a gun in her hands.

Every day, she fired at a target that stood further and further away, each time she hits the center.

For tonight, it was farther than any average shooter could manage. She stood atop of the barracks’ roof, surrounded by nothing but grass and a few trees. The night was cool, warm enough for her to be staying out at this hour and not freeze to death. She breathed and a cool cloud of smoke escaped her lips.

In. out.

A whopping two thousand yards

Even with the scope, it was difficult to focus on. She had no assistance of any type. There were no troops around. She had no vision enhancing technology. It was just her, the moon, the gun in her hand, and target. A scarecrow from a far away barn.

The wind wasn’t strong, but it could easily move the bullet.

There were no tensions anywhere in her body. Her muscles were fully relaxed, her eyes completely focused, her mind in a calm, thoughtless state. This was her zone. This is when she felt most peaceful.

Her finger pulled the trigger.

The loud noise that followed after were enough to possibly deaf any passer by, but she remained unbothered. Uncle had made sure her ears had the strength of steel. Nothing deafened her anymore. Not even if a large drum hit close to her face.

Guns were an extension to her limbs. An extension to what she was. She could feel it merge with her body the moment she picks one up from the armory. She took out her binoculars and looked into the target.

Bullseye.

Xxxx

“What happened?”

They’d only just arrived yesterday. The Commander barged down the halls of the barracks with her Lieutenant Commander, Beckett, trailing behind her and keeping up with her pace.

“His name is Peter Hugo. He was recruited a few weeks ago-“

“How many weeks, Lieutenant?”

“Four weeks. He stayed with eight other men in the second floor. Unit 14.”

They turned to the corner, past the canteen. They said they held the culprit in the underground.

“Is the Knight coming?”

“Lieutenant Gray should be on his way to tell him.”

“Run me down exactly what happened. Don’t miss a detail.”

Beckett swallowed. “Hugo waited until you and the Knight were gone for Gotham. His first strike was about two days ago, just as you left. He was found hiding in the meeting area where he knew Deathstroke would be meeting with Crane and the other Lieutenants. It wasn’t until after the meeting when the cleaners found Slade’s cup of coffee laced with poison.”

“Poison?” The Commander shrugged. The man knew he couldn’t beat Slade at combat.

“The next day, we found him going into the kitchens with another batch of poisons with him. He’s been in the undergrounds since. Slade’s instructions.”

They went down the stairs, where they were met with a small, mechanical elevator. Beckett pulled the metal gate open and the Commander stepped inside.

“Right down here, sir.”

“That son of a bitch should’ve been taken out by now.”

Jason, fully clothed in his armor and his face covered with the same blue visor. He didn’t give her so much as a glance when the two Lieutenants gave him the room to step inside. Commander Y/N took a step to the right, then the Lieutenants went in with them and stood at the front, closing the gates and turning the lever.

The buzz from the noise made the lift last longer than it already did. The walls were dark, and they could see it move upward as they descended. They only had a single light bulb at the top, and the room, as cramped up as it already was, was made even smaller when Jason folded his big arms in front of him.

The Commander slightly turned her head, just to glance at him with the side of her eye, but looked forward before he’d come to notice.

As far as she knew, nothing happened in Gotham.

The elevator reached the underground. And the hallway leading down seemed even darker. The lights were so dim, she couldn’t see past the only lit room a few doors down. When they reached there, it didn’t even look like an interrogation room. It was like a supply closet emptied out. At the center was a man, held together with ropes around his legs and chest, his arms tied to the back of the chair as he held his head down.

Peter Hugo wasn’t much of a brute. In fact, he was quite thin. But the sharp look of his eye and the scars on his neck told them he was, in fact, quite the fighter.

Jason walked up to the man and gripped his hair.

“Who sent you?”

“I’m not talking to you!”

A hit to the jaw.

“If you keep hitting him like that, he won't be able to speak at all,” the Commander said.

Jason didn’t listen to her. He grabbed him by the hair again, pulling the chair along with him into place. He was bleeding through his mouth. Jason pulled on his scalp until Hugo’s screeching cries were too hard to hear.

“Talk.”

“Fuck you.”

A gun swiftly points at his forehead. Hugo didn’t even have the time to look up. He stared onward, still avoiding the terrifying look on Jason’s visor.

“You talk, and I’ll kill you quick enough to make it painless. Waste our time and you’ll beg me to pull the trigger.”

“Watch me.”

Jason hit the back of his head, pushing the chair down so his head would hit the ground. “Gray. Beckett. Spit it out of him.”

The Commander stood aside and watched. Not a strain on her face. Beckett was first to strike, landing the tip of his shoe right at Hugo’s unarmored chest. Gray didn’t hold back either, and his hits landed right on his teeth. A few spattered onto the floor and his blood pool started to spread further out.

“Talk!”

A painful scream when a couple of his ribs broke. It took a few minutes, and Hugo finally squealed.

“Some mogul from Armenia hired S-Slade-“ he coughed blood. “Then the bastard held off when he wanted double the pay last minute.”

“So he asked you to kill him? A small time mercenary who thought poison was the way to do it?” The Commander finally spoke.

“Fuck off!”

Beckett hit his head again. He was too weak to move. “Fuck!” Hugo cried.

“What do we do with him, sir?”

“I’m playing my end of the bargain. We kill him. Nice and quick.”

The Commander stepped forward, eyeing the man. She didn’t remember much about him. Just that he was timid, mediocre in her training sessions and couldn’t fire a bullet even when the target was in front of him.

Jason turned to her.

Slowly, he walked up to her, and spoke so silently she could make out his real voice from the visor’s filter.

“Kill him.”

He handed her the gun.

And the look Hugo hand on her when Beckett pulled the chair up again, making him look at the commander straight into her eyes, it was like he was daring her.

This woman couldn’t do it.

What does she have that made her the commander?

Anyone can take her place.

The Knight must’ve wanted her ass to look at up on the platform.

Some of these men forgot who she was. Who she really was.

“Take him upstairs. I want everyone to watch.”

They were wrong to think she was the commander for just her marksmanship, her knowledge in battle strategies, her will to lead. It was none of that. In fact, the men who knew exactly who she was, didn’t give the decision a second thought.

Some of these men forgot, or simply didn’t know. And the look Hugo gave her, it was obvious, he hadn’t a speck of an idea.

The Commander was the woman hired by the United States Secretary of State to assassinate three political enemies in their own homes on the same night.

The Commander was the woman called by three rival drug lords in Mexico to kill each other, and all three ended up with bullets stuck to their mouths.

The Commander was the woman who staged a suicide on a certain American financer convicted as a sex offender, paid millions by the biggest names in the world involved in the famous scandal.

The Commander was the woman who had the highest, and most notable, kill count out of all the men in the barracks.

She wasn’t here because she was good. She was the Commander because she’s proven it. Before she was even recruited. Only she had Deathstroke have a run for his money.

And she took them all out without having to stand less than five hundred yards away.

These men were mercenaries from all over the world. But everyone who knew her, who knew who her uncle was, kept their silence. And when they all turned to her, holding a gun while the Lieutenants lugged a man tied to a chair, brought him up to the platform where dozens of men watched on, she knew they had it right to keep silent.

Hugo looked at her, and the Commander reveled at the hundred pairs of eyes, watching as she let everyone knew why she was who she was.

She shot him right in the forehead. And the man didn’t even fall to the ground as his lifeless eyes stared blankly at the ceiling, blood dripping into his sockets.

Jason watched, and everyone was silent.

Another integral part of her training involved this moment. The hindrance of any feeling of guilt the moment you’ve pulled the trigger.

She’s mastered that quite well.

Xxxx

Bullseye.

Again.

And again.

Two thousand one hundred yards this time. That was her estimate. She moved from the scarecrow to the rooster wind vane above the same farm. So far it had three bullet holes on his little head. Y/N reloaded her gun and looked into her scope for the fifth time that night.

She had to keep her hands busy, otherwise she’d be stuck in her quarters and be forced to mull over him.

But the universe wasn’t that kind to her.

“You know.”

The chilling voice filter that had gone all too familiar. She hated it. She wanted to tear it off his face and smash it with her boot. Y/N ignored the voice behind her and pulled the trigger.

She couldn’t hear the wind vane, but it spun viciously like a storm had hit. This time it was just at the rooster’s thin neck.

“Get out of here.”

“Who told you?”

Commander Y/N reloaded her gun. She had three bullets left.

Jason didn’t sound angry. But she had no right to play victim.

“My uncle.”

She could hear him wrap his hand in a tight fist, even from a distance. The Commander focused on the scope.

“I didn’t know Joker called in Deadshot, too.”

“He did. Floyd was in Belle Reeves. But he didn’t want even if he could. He isn’t like that.”

“How nice of him. Everyone else didn’t seem to think so. Two Face. Penguin. Riddler. They all took turns at the crowbar,” Jason said. “How did he tell you?”

Y/N didn’t want to have this conversation. There wasn’t anything he said that she didn’t already know. “About a year ago when I last visited him.”

She fired another shot. The bullet landed on the wind vane’s arrow. She slowly pulled out another one.

“Why?”

Reloaded. Deep breaths. In and out.

“’Cuz he asked if I wanted to go into Arkham and… torture you.”

She fired the bullet before she could even focus on the scope. The wind vane didn’t turn. She hit the rooftop.

“You were in there for a year,” she whispered. “How are you still alive…”

“Did you hope I’d die?” Jason’s filtered voice echoed. “Maybe you should’ve taken Joker’s offer.”

“Don’t pretend we weren’t out to kill each other! No one wanted to hire me after you took me down every fucking time I got close to a target, Robin.” Y/N finally turned around.

“Part of the job. And you were the only one who was out to kill me, kid. Batman wouldn’t let me even if I wanted to.”

“Is that why you recruited me? So you could kill me from within?”

Jason fucking laughed. “You give yourself too much credit.”

She finally placed the gun to the floor, turning around to face him.

“We were enemies. You called me in to the militia knowing you had your history with Deadshot’s little partner.”

“Sidekick.”

“Partner!”

She was fuming, standing close to him while his eerie looking visor stared back.

“I only want Batman dead. I don’t care about anyone else,” he growled. “And I knew you. I knew what you could do. That’s why I called you in. This isn’t about some grudge.”

Jason took a step back. His voice was starting to crack. “Joker… beat any smidge of hope left in me. And turned me into this…” he choked.  

Y/N watched him slowly crumble, holding himself up. A part of her hated him so much. The same part that destroys her from the guilt that came with her knowing.  

And the other part wanted to pull him close and tell him how the nightmares will be over soon, that it hurt her to even think about him being hurt, too.

“I’m sorry…” she said. “I’m so sorry-“

“Don’t!” Jason took a step back and screamed. “You knew what happened.”

“I couldn’t do what Joker did to you-“

“How does it feel, huh? To have known I was in an abandoned wing in Arkham, tortured everyday at the brink of death and you didn’t do anything about it…”

“Jason-“

“You could’ve helped me. Or helped Joker. Either way, I didn’t expect you to just sit there and be some coward hoping I’d die.”

“Fuck you-“

“You were right. Deadshot turned you into a mindless machin-“

A strong, massive punch right into his visor. And it broke, some of the pieces scattered on the floor. Y/N’s hand immediately formed a bruise and she winced at the painful shocks running up her arm. Jason almost toppled to the ground, turning his head back before she landed her knee right into his chest.

Jason fell to the ground, but as the Commander charged, he caught her leg and flung her across the ground. He stood up, brushing the pain off his chest. Her hit went past through the armor. Good. Her strength will diminish before long.

Y/N pulled herself up, tearing a part of her suit to wrap around her knuckles. The pain can be ignored. For now.

Batman’s and Deadshot’s young wards. Now the Arkham Knight and the Militia Commander. The fight that was always meant to be.

If they were lucky, no one had to be thrown out of the roof before the sun rises.

-----

THE COMMANDER - MASTERLIST

-----

  Taglist: everyartistwas-firstanamateur  @sarcasmismyfirstlove @damned-queen-of-gotham @idkmanicantenglish @wunderstell @birdy-bat-riya @get-loki@everyday-imfangirling @comic-nerd-dc @multifandoms916 @icequeen208@offendedfishnoises @egdolan @xemiefx @arkhamtoddler @elsenthal@mythicbitchx @supremehaunter @ burning-alive

[horrorslashergirl]

I’d love to know what your ocs would think of mine!

https://bootybetterbebruised.tumblr.com/post/641412562286739456/introducing-my-slasher-oc

Richard Firewood

He finds her to be cute, perhaps a little too much for her own good, but he is very intirgued by the fact that she wants to open a funeral home. Perhaps, they can have a small chit-chat about that... Richard is all down for business.

Richard: Interesting that such a small innocent women wants to open a funeral house.

Jackson Jasper

He absolutly finds her to be a gorgeous one and very cute, tempted to take her own for lunch and maybe a few drinks if she is up to it. He finds it very alluring how she kills and he wouldn’t mind watching.

Jackson: Its true what they say... Apparences can trick you but... Hey.. I am not complaining... Wouldn't mind seeing her pretty dress in all red. *smirk*

The Hacker

A total dollface into the Hackers eyes. Talk about good girl meet bad boy cliche... But this killer likes am innocent looking girl with a sharp edge. He would love to see her in action.

Hacker: *whistle* Cutie pie.... With a knife inside. Would love to see her do her... Work. Would pay good money to be in the front row of the show. *smirk*

Bambi Miller

She thinks she is a cutie ball of sunshine and loves her style of killing. Following men like that is so so much fun. They might go out for drinking and find potential clueless victims.

Bambi: Always supporting women who are sly. *smirks*

Dave Anthony

He would defenitly find her to be amusing to harass and see how much she can take. This bully of a poltergeist will sure take pleasure in stealing her glasses and see her find her way through the dark while mocking her.

Dave: Baby doll that dresses like a Granny? *evil laugh*

Samuel Grayson

She seems like a very sweet girl into his undead eyes; a very beautiful and quite courageous human... To lure people like that and kill them.

Samuel: They do say that the female is the most dangerous of the species... Been killed by one so I know what I am talking about.

Gerome and Axel (Miami Murderers)

Cute little lady with a dangerous edge and they might be interested into her... Assasination skills. Very cunning, plus she likes knives which Axel may find alluring in a woman.

Gerome: Beautiful woman! I think Axel likes her a lot more than he lets to be seen.

Axel: Always appreciate someone with knife skills and intelligence as a weapon.

Damiano Liberato

He may like her soft fairy-like style of dressing and her alluring sly way of lurring her victims. He might make her model a little for him, make her try on his collection of summer dresses.

Damiano: She seems like someone with a good taste in outer apparence... Also funeral house? I think I need a few corpses for my next collection of manequins.

Azment

She thinks Celeste is very beautiful and absolutly stunning! Plus her dangerous edge of lurring her victims like that, really makes Azment shiver into anticipation.

Azment: Fascinating human girl... I think we can call a night for her and me to have... Some talk. *smirk*

Mitch Carson

I think he might see her as a potential ahem... Mate? That is if she steps into his territory. Chance are that she won't be killed and eaten by him but more used for... Breeding surposes.

Mitch: *growls and licks his lips behind the gas mask*

Azol

He finds her to be a very good looking human and one to abuse greatly. Possessing her body and fucking people around then leaving her body to take into the aftermath? Cruel but possible with Azol.

Azol: She thinks she is cunning? Lets see how cunning she will be when she will wake up naked into an alleyway all used.... The little cum filled cunt. *evil laugh*

The Shadow

He may find her very high intelect to be eandering but if she uses it to get cocky with him that will change the game. Shadow appreciates inteligent people but when they get annoying, he won't hesitate to scalpel them.

Shadow: Cunning, inteligent, beautiful, deadly... You know what they say. Never trust a woman and kill her before she can hurt you. *scowls*

Bahini Talibah

She understands a little why Celeste might do what she does, and she finds her to be very soft spoken and her aura reminds Bahini of a bouquette full of bloomed flowers.

Bahini: She should be carefull with how she procedes into her killing. One time she might make a mistake and get... Hurt.

Xaviera Lah-Mo

She finds her killing style to be Maybe not something she will ever do herself, being a more long distance killer with her sniper rifle, but Xavi finds Celestes killing motive very valide. She also loves animals, which is a very big pro into Xavis book. Also they can read books together.

Xaviera: I suppose her victims got what they deserved.... Call it karma.

Akshay Lah-Mo

At first he may find her too flashy, but afte hearing that she only wants to love into a small cabin away from everyone he may emphatize with her. He is also a writer, so they may exchange plot ideas for stories and such.

Akshay: She is fine I suppose... As a friend.

Decebal Avram Chirilă

He will find her absolutly charming and he will flirt with her for sure, show her his own charms, maybe protect her from people that might want to abduct her from bars and clubs. He finds her to be very cute... A baby girl with her soft style.

Decebal: My, my... I think I am gonna ask her out on a date. She seems... FUN. *smirk*

Nadia Nikolina Chirilă

She finds Celeste to be stunning, cunning, smart and she likes a deadly woman who can lure disgusting people like that onto their own death.

Nadia: You rarely see woman have the hot blood to teach such people a leason and I can appreciate teachers to say so... Like her.

Alexander Chirilă

Her style reminds him of fairies and he always had a soft spot for legends about them. He thinks she is cute and he appreciates her intelligence and assassinating skills to say so... Very sleek to lure people like that. She also likes green tea! And her flowery scent reminds him of spring.

Alexander: Umm... She is cute I guess.. I mean... She looks like a fairy from my home country legends. *blushes*

[10kiaoi]

Tactical gear appreciation post lol.

CW: canon typical violence, issues related to death. Notes: Very much unbetaed and written with increasing desperation. Please go easy on me?

----

The first time Bond sees the boy, it’s in the busy shopping streets of Bangkok. 

It’s midday and sweltering but the Pratunam district is buzzing with activity. 

Bond idles along the street side vendors, ambling through the makeshift tents and racks. The crowd is thick enough that he brushes shoulders with others every few steps or so. He keeps half an eye on the lovely trinkets - little wooden carvings of various local fauna. The other half is firmly fixed on a man rumoured to be delving into the international arms trade. 

He inspects a figurine of an elephant, tuning out the shopkeeper’s enthusiastic pitch in broken english. 

A scream pierces the air- a high pitched shriek that sends the crowd careening backwards. As Bond is shoved backwards by the masses, he spots a man toppled over on the ground, motionless. Around him, there are yells in Thai, in English, in various other languages of the disturbed tourists. 

He quickly scans the panicked crowd but catches nothing more than a flash of deep brunette melting away into the throngs.

It’s an unexpected sudden end to his current mission. 

----

Berlin is a mess. 

The woman Bond is tasked with assessing is KGB- turncoat and now looking for a new master. Bond strides into a small chain cafe on a quiet street. The cafe isn’t too busy- the few customers present are already seated and distracted. Anya Pavlova is seated in the far corner up against the wall, engaged in her book and a cup of coffee.

Bond heads to the counter, places his order. It arrives in short order and he chooses a seat by the window. The occasional autumn breeze is refreshing in the stuffy cafe, after sunny, tropical Bangkok. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Pavlova slips into the washroom. 

Bond tucks into his meal. 

She slips back out after a brief pause, prim and proper, returns to her softback. 

No one else gets up. Bond slides into the washroom. The note is exactly where Bond expects it to be. He glances quickly at the series of numbers- a phone number, tucks it into a secure little pocket in the lining of his jacket. He flushes the toilet, washes his hands and steps back out. 

Pavlova waits for him to sit back down at his table before putting away her possessions into the little handbag at her side.

The waitress comes over smiling, a tray with a single cup. Bond frowns, ready to reject the clearly mistaken order. “With compliments, it’s already paid for!” the waitress chirps. Bond pauses, then graciously thanks the waitress as she transfers the cup to his table. He resolutely does not turn to look at Pavlova who is making for the door. 

It’s a lovely rich black, no cream or sugar.  

The napkin is folded neatly under the cup. 

Bond looks down to check his phone.  Pavlova steps out from under the shelter of the awning. The cashier’s cheerful “come again!” switches to a screech of horror, followed by several others both in and outside of the cafe.  

Bond whips up with his heart pounding, only training preventing him from dropping his phone on the way. There’s a telltale metallic glint from a far off high rise, no more than a shimmer off what most would assume is reflective glass. It lasts no longer than a flash.  

Pavlova is dead before she hits the ground.     

----

M is understandably spitting mad. 

One doesn’t come by an enemy agent offering their services everyday and Pavlova could have been a terrific addition to MI6’s arsenal of covert long term operatives what with already being in the KGB and all. 

The morbid hilarity of the entire situation - Bond hasn’t done anything to influence such an outcome. A textbook execution practically. 

And yet it has gone all tits up.

A fuming M marches him down to Q Branch with carte blanche to use all resources to find the leak. “Something we should have done since Bangkok!” M rages in a rare moment of self reproach as Bond bears her fury with silence.

A forensics team is sent to the building the sniper is suspected to have worked from. They find nothing. Q Branch fares no better, the few low res security cameras of little help when it turns out they have all gone down simultaneously around the time of the incident. 

He’s grilled on what he remembers. Every tiny detail dragged out to be examined on all fronts to determine if he has missed anything.  

There’s little else they can do with no other leads. 

----

In Mexico City, Bond destroys an entire warehouse’s worth of hard drugs before it ever reaches his country’s shores.

The explosion is magnificent- a great blooming flameball and a sound blast that blows out every window in a one kilometer radius. 

It’s almost makes up for being whacked hard enough atop the head that he blacks out instantly. 

----

Miguel Garcia is a terrible host. 

Bond watches as the man drops the unfortunate minion into a pit of crocs. The screams still ring in his ears when Garcia starts in on him. His earwig is long gone. For once, he misses having Q Branch in his ear. 

Standard villain interrogation routine- a couple of hits here and there, a good deal of verbal threats, a few electrocutions to top it off. Nothing a double oh hasn’t been trained to take. 

Bond laughs and screams through the entire facade, a savage grin splitting his face apart. He shoves the desperate need to know that someone is coming into a tiny box and pushes it into a dusty corner of his mind where a stone mansion lies. 

Garcia is coming apart at the seams and for good reason. Between the two of them, Bond would garner Garcia’s in deeper shit and he gleefully tells Garcia so. 

The lacerations with a dull knife are worth the brief terror turned rage across Garcia’s face. 

----

Bond is thrown into a dark room and left to rot without food or water.

His body is a mass of bruises and pain - there isn’t a part of him that feels like he could sleep forever. The relative silence is a much cherished balm against the earlier violence. He’s just drifting off into a light doze- all the better for maintaining his energy reserves when the single shot echoes around the facility. 

It’s loud and forbidding. 

Bond jerks awake, adrenaline rushing through his veins. 

There’s yelling and panic, a desperate attempt to mount some kind of defence but a great deal more bellows that cut off in the middle. 

Bond’s heart pounds painfully in his chest. He staggers up, ignoring the painful pull at all his wounds. 

Somewhere in the distance, there’s a bang of a grenade. 

Outside his prison, there’s a crack. The door swings open. Bond squints at the sudden brightness. A familiar silhouette appears in the light of the doorway. 

“Heard you needed backup, brother!”

Bond could just kiss him. 

--------

What the hospital staff doesn’t know won't hurt them. 

Bond makes it a point to share a drink with Felix whenever he’s in town. Langley isn’t too far from DC and it’s been a while since they have had the opportunity to catch up. 

Well, that and the man rescued him from the clutches of Garcia. Bond owes Felix more than a round of drinks.  

Bond steadily ignores the disapproving looks Felix aims at his shots. More than for the company, it’s an informal exchange of information- information locked behind red tape and bureaucracy in other circumstances. It’s efficient and lays bare the minute details Bond has to work to hunt down otherwise. 

Felix tells him about an operation in Alaska of all places. Bond tells him about Bangkok. They both down a stiff drink. 

Felix pauses, a momentary lapse that blares like an alarm to Bond’s trained eye. 

Bond narrows his eyes. “What is it?”

Felix grimaces. Something like suspicion and dread creeps over Bond. 

“About that, we found the warehouse because of a tipoff. Garcia was already dead when we got there.”

----

Felix doesn’t quite let him in to the CIA secure archives but it’s a pretty close thing. 

He leaves Bond waiting in one of the meeting rooms, blinds drawn. When he returns, it’s with a thin folder. There’s also a ziplock with tiny metal pieces no bigger than pennies. Bond turns a skeptical gaze at Felix.  

Felix waves the reports like a carrot on a stick. “All our agents’ reports of suspected encounters we have had with our man. Maybe you’ll see something our profilers haven’t.” 

Bond’s gaze at the file turns covetous. Felix smirks.

The cases weren’t unlike his own experiences- clean kills, in and out before anyone is aware enough to act. Security cameras were as good as useless with how the feed has clearly been tampered with. Nothing he hasn’t already deduced from his own encounters. It’s entirely frustrating and Bond feels the prickle under his skin, a clawing need to know. 

“Paranoid, that one,” Felix declares, settling into an empty chair. Bond snorts. 

“He knows he’s being hunted,” Bond corrects. 

“No one’s actually seen him, you’d be the first,” Felix admits, leaning backwards.

No traces left behind, no witnesses. Professional to the extreme. 

Bond hisses in displeasure. 

----

Felix insists on sending him to the airport despite his protests. Dulles International Airport comes into sight like a hulking grey beast, ugly and utilitarian. 

“Take care, brother,” Felix wishes over their hug, leaving with several commiserating pats to Bond’s back, carefully avoiding the still healing areas. 

A call comes over the speakers as Bond heads through the express security lane: boarding for flight SQ2522 has begun. There’s a flash of brunette curls in the distance- Bond’s heart lurches, mind flashing back to Bangkok. But no, it’s a lady, petite but tall.  

For one irrational moment he thinks that it’s Vesper. Brilliant, gorgeous, traitorous Vesper with her wit and charm and lovely red lips. 

But the woman moves out of sight towards her gate and the moment’s over and Bond is drawn back into the monochrome present.  

----

It’s a random thought- one driven more by instinct from years in the field rather than any rational explanation. 

He boards his plane- a direct flight back to London. It is after the stewardess has come round offering champagne that Bond pulls the memory of the little slip of paper Pavlova left behind for him in that Berlin cafe.

Pressing send feels akin to stirring a hornet’s nest.  

----

“Thank you for the coffee. It was most delightful. See you soon.”

----

There isn’t much in Pavlova’s handbag- her phone, a softcover likely plucked from a discount bin, a half used tube of lipstick, a writing pad and a fountain pen. 

It is the pen Bond focuses his attention on.

Q Branch excels in the technical fields. They’ve done their bit and gone through the cell. As expected of someone like Pavlova. The phone is clean - clearly a burner phone. It is a dead end.

Bond’s expertise is in people and their sentiments. 

The fountain pen’s barrel glints, polished despite the corners where the gold has gone dull with age. The nib is uneven, as though grounded down by constant pressure on one side. There’s a ring around the feed and the section, perhaps originally gold like the decorative edgings and on the clip but the gold’s almost completely faded. Bond twists the ring. 

A blade springs out from under the nib. 

----

Taipei is unfinished business. 

The cheap street food is an utter delight. Jiufen is beyond crowded on a weekend and going through the long narrow streets is a slow shuffle sandwiched between local hikers and curious tourists. Bond finds himself with a stick of some grilled meat in one hand, 

Several meters ahead, a man walks on oblivious, arms laden down by souvenirs. 

There’s a flash of brunette in the corner of Bond’s eye. His snack falls to the ground, abandoned as he slices through the crowd. Outraged yells go up behind him but his concentration has locked onto the scene before him.  

It is deja vu.  

He barrels through the horde, grasps the slender wrist in an iron grip. 

He’s pinned by a wide eyed stare, brilliant green eyes shocked and surprised behind glasses. 

Then the blade in the pen is abruptly twisted towards him. 

The crowd topples backwards, shrill screaming accompanying the wave of people attempting to flee the altercation. It’s utter pandemonium. 

Bond leaps backwards to dodge the blade, but the assailant follows, a dogged determination in his eyes. They grapple in the narrow stone street, amidst the fleeing crowd. The boy shoves him into a display counter of traditional snacks. He lashes out with a kick to the sternum, sending the boy into the corner of a wall and knocking the breath out of him. 

They clamber to their feet and circle each other, bruised and all the more vicious for it. 

The boy hisses under his breath, like a cat with its tail stepped on. Bond answers with a snarl of his own, blood dripping from the laceration on his cheek. 

The streets have emptied by now, the target having slipped away in the commotion. 

There’s a momentary flash of indecision, of uncertainty. Inexplicably, the boy turns and darts down an adjourning alleyway. 

Bond curses, bolts after the flash of military green parka around the tight corners. He leaps five steps at a time down a steep stairway carved into the street, charging past the backs of residential houses. 

He skids to a halt in the middle of a crossroad, utterly alone. There’s a familiar looking pen on the ground, its owner nowhere to be found. In the distance, there are sirens. 

Bond sends a fist into the ground, knuckles white beneath the bruises. 

----

Wang Guo Pei is a pale faced man, still green from the attempt on his life. 

He is also the younger brother of the man killed in Bangkok, whose death has and still is sending ripples across the networks. The interrogation room is bleak and bare. The cold lights enhance the man’s sickly look, hallowed by fear and anxiety over the threat of death even through the filter of the camera.  

The Underworld really doesn’t care if one is just a foot soldier, not when one is relation and have access to the inner workings of the organization. MI6 has no such qualms either. 

Bond has lost track of how many lesser devils MI6 has had to make a deal with to nail bigger fish. 

He watches as the interrogation is repeated, fiddling with his own souvenir. Unlike Pavlova’s, this model sports a two barrel converter on top of the hidden blade. One is filled with regular ink. The other… Bond replaces the cap firmly, slips it back into an inner pocket. 

He doesn’t put much stock in working with an entire team with how often they just slow him down instead of being helpful. But M’s made up her mind and the powers that be agree. He’s on his way towards the waiting ops team and Wang three hours later. 

----

“Now pay attention, 007, this is a bulletproof suit-”

“Yes, thank you Major, I know what a bulletproof suit does.”

“Not this one, you don’t, now pay attention! I don’t want to have to repeat myself. Now see this here, this little bag, it’s been engineered to be filled with blood- ”

“Isn’t that just a water balloon?”

----

Hours later, Bond lands in Changi Airport, Singapore with new orders and new purpose. 

----

Q slips into the office tower easily, waiting for the last few stragglers making their way out to pass by before continuing on his way to the lifts. The night patrol is swiftly dealt with, a quick prick of a gel coated dart with fast acting amnesiac properties. 

The ride up is silent, no cheery elevator music to soften the adrenaline. He uses the time to check on his systems briefly. A flick on his phone brings up the app that mirrors the processes his laptop is carrying out while tucked away safely in his hotel suite. It’s a particular test of his abilities, this city, with all its zealousness in adhering to security measures. His laptop has been running nonstop since the moment he stepped foot on this island. 

The security cameras remain silent in their judgement. His finger twitches, feeling the weight of his missing pen acutely. 

The accomplishment of successful missions has long since worn off. The thrill of travel, of seeing the world and all it offers has dulled with the gravity of the situation he finds himself in. Pavlova’s death is still a fresh wound, the condolences offered by the organization doing nothing to stem the loss and grief that accompanies losing the only maternal figure he has in his life. 

Last one, and then you’re out. 

The rifle is cold and heavy in his arms. 

A robotic female voice announces the level they’ve arrived at and Q steps out. 

Wang is immediately visible in the building across the road, in his office.

Q runs a last check of the cameras. They come back clear so he drops to a knee, setting up his equipment. The thick glass of the skyscraper is easily dealt with, a perfect circle being cut out and lifted away to reveal a small hole through which the rifle can be fired through. 

It takes no more than a few seconds. 

Wang goes down in his office, blood painting the walls. 

Q starts packing up. 

----

Several muffled shots are followed by a heavy thump. 

The man stepping out of the shadows with his Walther primed and ready in his hand is a familiar face. Q can’t tear his eyes away, entranced when the MI6 agent unceremoniously drops the body to the ground. 

Q’s stomach drops, visibly blanching. 

He recognizes the corpse’s issue of equipment- he’s helped design some of it in fact.

He knows for a fact, that particular section never comes alone.

“Seems like you’ve pissed off your employer,” the man he fought in Taiwan drawls. 

Q’s hand goes for his rifle, only to flinch away when the man fires a warning shot. Q freezes. The man motions with his Walter. Q obeys, sliding the rifle away out of reach. He’s mentally flashing through all his equipment, looking for a way to buy time and find an exit, recalling all the areas where he landed hits just days ago.  

“Bond,” the man pauses significantly, “James Bond. 007.” 

Q blinks. Then slowly, “Am I supposed to curse your name as you kill me then?” 

Bond stares, confusion then exasperation. “Oh for Christ’s sake, the one time I try to be civil,” Bond grumbles mutinously. 

Q has to hastily stifle a laugh at Bond’s disgruntlement. There’s a moment of acknowledgement of the ludicrousness, yet it somehow lightens the atmosphere between him and and his would be executioner. It’s jarring, how that one line manages to bring a little humour back to his life. It’s simply another indicator of how much the state of things has deteriorated around him without him noticing. 

It’s almost regretful it isn’t likely to last. 

Q tenses as Bond’s hand creeps to one of his pockets. 

It’s cruel irony, if Bond does indeed intend to use that object as an instrument of Q’s death.  

Q turns distraught eyes upon the agent- a double oh, if he’s to be believed. 

“I gave her that,” Q whispers, eyes locked onto Pavlova’s pen in Bond’s fingers. 

“She gave it to me,” Bond states. 

Q’s face falls. 

“Is what I was ordered to tell you,” Bond continues, voice dropping to a murmur, “But I think you’ve been lied to enough, wouldn’t you say.”  

The full force of grief knocks the breath from his chest once again. 

Q watches with detached fascination as Bond winces, reaching up to remove the earpiece and drop it in a pocket. 

Bond turns back to him in all seriousness, and the dread rises again.

“I couldn’t do this for someone else,” Bond murmurs, catching him around the waist.  And oh, how Q can see the same loss and anguish in the other as if they are kindred spirits. “Someone important to me,” Bond chokes out, “but you have a choice now. You wanted out, this is your chance.” 

How Q wants to believe him. 

He leans in, breathes two words into Bond’s ear. 

Bond breaks out in a small, relieved grin. 

----

Bond cups Q’s face, pressing their foreheads together in reassurance. 

Q takes a steadying breath. His death is now fully in MI6’s- in James’ hands. 

“Now darling, do be a good boy and put this on for me,” James whispers conspiratorially.

[moral-turpitudes]

Unfinished Business: Part 2

Trigger Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Mentions of past abuse, Blood, Fighting, Swearing, etc. 

Characters: Thomas Shelby x Reader

+ random character/group I made up (Romboldi & The Black Hats)

Word Count: 3,548

Summary: Y/n’s secret gets out and the gang scrambles to put an end to the Black Hats. But one thing is for certain, nothing is more terrifying than when the hunter becomes the hunted.

Requested by: @msbzowy​ 

Part 1 | Part 2 

Y/n took a deep breath before walking into the meeting room with Tommy, her hand slightly clamming up in his. Despite their love for her, she couldn’t shake the thoughts from her head about them possibly hating her.

Walking through the mahogany doors, the frenzied conversations stopped, as all eyes landed on Y/n.

Polly gasped and she immediately walked over to her, enveloping her in a huge hug. Ada followed, complimenting her new look as she made her way to her.

“What the fuck y/n you’re supposed to be ruling New York by now!” Arthur said rather loudly, coming over and pulling her into a rough embrace.

“Nice to see you too Arthur.” She said chuckling as she made her rounds around the room.

John handed her a shot and gave her a hug, with Finn and Michael joining in shortly after. She knocked the shot back and made her way over to a pregnant Esme and scowling Linda.

“Nice to see you both! Gosh I’ve missed you!” She said gently hugging Esme and awkwardly hugging Linda. She never did like her too much as Y/n noticed early on in their relationship.

After exchanging pleasantries she waltzed back over to Tommy, taking a seat by him and lacing their hands together. Polly smirked, her eyebrow raised at he interaction.

“So tell me y/n...how is New York?” She asked, taking a sip of her tea.

“Oh it’s...well it’s New York. Crowded, loud, cars everywhere. But there’s sky-high buildings that are being built, it’s amazing to see. She said taking her hand from Tommy’s and placing it in her lap.

“Do you like it more than Small Heath?” She asked.

“God no. I grew up here Poll. This is home.” She said, leaning back in the chair.

“Oi! Y/n, not to be so forward but what the hell are you back in this shit hole for?” He asked, handing her a glass full of whiskey. She smiled and took a sip, looking at Tommy.

“Is it alright if I tell them?” She asked, knowing Tommy usually handled the tough conversations.

“Go ahead love.” He said. Her heart jumped at the nickname, it’s been so long since she’d heard it.

Taking a swig of whiskey, she stood up and walked towards the head of the table slowly.

“So, I know last time we parted ways a bit harshly. But all past feelings aside, I actually came here on business...and it involves everyone here...” She said looking down at her drink in her hand.

“That doesn’t sound good. What kind?” Michael asked.

“Uh, Mafia business. Mr. Romboldi....of the Black Hats.” She said taking another sip of her drink.

“God them fuckers again? How the hell did ya get involved with those rats? He already blew our shit up last time!” Arthur said, his brows furrowing.

She looked nervously at Thomas, and he just quickly nodded for her to continue, all emotion leaving his face.

“Well, you all know how I can’t just sit around, so I went job searching when I got there. Not long after, I noticed how dangerous it was being there on my own. I was almost attacked a couple times...” She said brushing a stray hair out of her face. Gently steering the conversation away from that subject.

“Anyways...I needed protection, and plus, I had skills that other jobs didn’t need so I went to the source of why I left. I decided I’d work for the Black Hats but not to betray anyone, just to get money coming in, get some protection, and maybe some information over time. They don’t know I’m actually Y/n Y/l/n. I’ve been working undercover. I’ve been using an alias, faking an accent, and using fake papers to get my bearings in the gang. And I’m now their contract killer.” She said knocking back the last of the drink. She let the first half of the news sink in, walking towards Tommy, placing a hand on the back of his chair.

“Holy shit. Really?” John asked.

“Yeah. I’ve killed people all over the country to earn that spot. I’m not proud of how I got it, but I had to do what I had to do.” She said looking away, out the window at the people milling about.

“Oi! Bet they gave ya a nickname like one of them spies aye?” Arthur asked jokingly.

Y/n chuckled and nodded her head.

“It’s dumb but I liked it at the time. They called me Quick Shot.” She said chuckling.

“I got it on a mission when I was sniping for his men one night. The people that were on the list came up and I took them out quick, no one really knew where the shots came from but I was gone before they could find out.” She said.

“Damn.” John mumbled.

“But you’re back here though dear...why? Why does this involve us?” She asked concerned. Polly could always steer the conversations back to the problems at hand. Often times she had the most sense of the group.

Y/n walked away from Tommy and over to the whiskey and poured another glass as she spoke.

“As we all know, the last deal went sour to say the least, so he wants something else. He told me he wants Tommy’s gin. He wants to distribute it in America, and to get stocks and shit. So...he sent me here to persuade Tommy to pay full price for them running it back. He won’t be lowballed again. Over my two years there, I’ve unfortunately gotten to know how he works, and if he comes after one person he comes after the rest just the same. If Tommy refuses, he will most likely kill me and him, as well as anyone in relation to the Peaky Blinders.” She said sternly.

“My god...” Polly said, sipping her tea as she looked at Tommy. His face still the same. But y/n could practically see the gears turning in his head again, another plan in the works.

“So they don’t know you have history with us?” Ada asked.

“No. And if they find out, you might as well kiss me goodbye. They may be stupid but they can sense someone who’s faking. I honestly don’t know how I’ve made it this long if I’m honest.” She said sitting back by Tommy, sighing and rubbing her temple. The drinks going to her head slightly.

Tommy shuffled in his seat and got up, standing behind her chair, speaking sternly.

“I’ve made a plan. It must be followed exactly as I say. No exceptions.” He said, Ada rolled her eyes bracing herself for whatever wild plan was about to spew from his mouth.

“Y/n is going to call Mr. Romboldi from a pay phone to tell him I accept the offer. When they get here in a weeks time, we’re going to meet them in Charlie’s yard. I’m going to order crates to be shipped there with my fucking gin, and you all will stand by while I negotiate. To help Y/n stay out of their grasp, we’re going to place her on sniper duty. If they ask about her, don’t tell them anything, act like you’ve never met her.” He said.

“And what if word gets out? You know it travels around here.” Linda said.

“Then you’ll just have to keep your trap shut so it doesn’t. Not until this business is dealt with. I’m sure you can manage.” Y/n said annoyed. Linda glared at her. She was always a chatty one.

Tommy smirked, and looked down at his watch.

“Y/n?” Tommy asked.

“Yes?” She said looking at him, her eyes boring into his.

“You’re going to go to the pay phone tomorrow like we discussed, but try to keep it simple. I don’t want him asking too many questions.” He said.

“Alright. What time?”

“Noon”. He said, walking over and pouring himself a glass of whiskey.

“Okay.” She said, before making conversation with Ada and Arthur. Her laugh filling the room as she joked around just like old times.

Meanwhile, Tommy looked out the window, the plans rolling around in his head amongst the scraping of the tunnels that plagued his mind every day. A mix of dread and happiness filling his bones. As much as he was happy to see y/n back, he couldn’t stand people being out to get her and his family. And he couldn’t bear losing her again, especially to those men. He hated that they forced her to do certain things and now that she was back home, he wasn’t going to let that happen again. He knocked back his shot, the liquid streaming down his throat attempting to numb the pain he felt as he processed what happened over the last 2 hours. Just 2 hours ago he was coming back from a meeting with Johnny Dogs. Just 2 hours ago he was out taking care of things around the shops. Just 2 hours ago his life was half empty. The only things in it at the time were his family and the sounds of shovels scraping through the tunnels, consuming his mind. But then as if a prayer was answered by some god he didn’t believe in, there she was at his doorstep. And he was determined this time to not repeat the past.

“You okay?” Y/n asked, walking over to him. Her red heels clicking along the wooden floors. He sighed and turned around to face her, his tired eyes meeting hers as he felt himself relax a bit at her presence.

“How about we get out of here?” Tommy asked, taking her hand in his.

“Are we going to your place?” She asked. He nodded and she smirked, seeing his lips turn up in a slight smile.

“Everyone be ready by noon tomorrow. I’m heading home.” He said, taking y/n’s hand and pulling her out with him. Everyone sat there for a moment and Polly smirked.

“Are they seeing each other again? After what he did?” Ada asked her.

“I’m sure of it. They say distance makes the heart grow fonder and I think that’s true for them. He never wanted her to go Ada. He told me after she left that he regretted it but I told him whats done is done. But you know him....he’s never been one to let things go.” She said taking a drag from her cigarette.

“Who would’ve known Tommy Shelby had a heart.” She said chuckling.

The rest of them laughed as they went about their business. All of them wary about what the next week would hold.

Meanwhile, back at Tommy’s estate, he gave Y/n a quick tour around, before leading her up to his bedroom.

Her eyes widening at the huge room and lavish king bed.

“Wow. You really went all out here aye?” She said smiling, running her hands along the cotton sheets. He caught her hand, and took it, turning her around so she was facing him. He smiled slightly as he brought his lips to hers. She kissed back, dragging both of them onto the plush mattress, feverish kisses being placed on her neck by the one she thought she’d never see again. They continued their escapades, their worries for tomorrow quickly slipping away as the daylight faded around them.

The next morning Y/n awoke to the sound of Tommy’s light snores, feeling his arms wrapped around her in a protective embrace. She wondered how long it had been since he’s slept decently, knowing all too well how his thoughts kept him up at night.

She let him sleep though, quietly getting up to wrap her bare body in one of Tommy’s robes as she made her way to the master bathroom. She went in and cleaned up, slowly coming to as the hot water dropped over her skin. When she got out she dug through her suit case to find a black dress and light sweater and decided that would work for the day’s activities. She quickly tensed though at the thought of conversing with Mr. Romboldi in an hours time.

As she put her last bit of makeup on, she heard Thomas get up and walk to towards the bathroom.

“Good morning love.” He said, kissing her cheek. She smiled and touched it, still in disbelief that she was here with him. She hated that’s she was bitter before, but now she’s grated to be there.

“Morning. How’d you sleep?” Y/n asked.

“Better. Better than I have in 2 years.” He said. She smiled and turned to hug his bare form. He had a genuine smile on his face as he placed a kiss on her forehead.

“Tommy Shelby, I never knew such a smile existed.” She said. He chuckled as he stepped away preparing the bath.

“Are you going to go call him?” He said glancing at the clock on the wall.

“Yes. I’ll go to the shop as soon as it’s done and report what I hear.” She said gathering her things.

“Alright. If you need help call me. I love you.” He said.

“Love you too.” She said before heading into his room and out into the luxurious hallway. She took a deep breath as she got in one of the cars and drove to the payphone in town. She put the coins in the slot, waiting for the operator to answer.

The phone crackled as she held the metal device up to her ear. “Hello how may I help you today?” The operator asked.

“Hi. I’d like to place a call to 5023. New York.” She said. Then waited for the dreaded rough voice of the man who took her in, yet whore’d her out to his enemies.

“I was expecting to hear from you dear. How is that shit hole treating ya?” He asked.

“Fine. Nothing beats New York, sir.” She said in her fake accent.

“Did you accomplish what I sent you there for?” He asked.

“Yes. He will pay the full price for our services. You are to meet him at the place you went last time. I think he called it Charlie’s yard?” She asked, acting like she didn’t know where it was.

“Yes, I’ll never forget that dump. Tell him we’ll be there Monday. I’m boarding the ship in an hour. We’ll meet them at noon. Good job miss Anderson.” He said.

“Alright, I’ll pass that along to him. Thank you Mr. Romboldi.” She said.

“You’ll be back here in no time, don’t worry. We can’t afford to loose our best shooter to a grimy razor gang, plus, I have some new men who’d love to meet you.” He said, an evil tone lacing his voice towards the end as he egged on the conversation.

“Goodbye. See you when I get back.” She said hanging up. Not waiting for a reply. She took a deep breath and shook the thought of giving herself to more random men out of her head and got back in the car, looking out at the busy streets as she neared the shop.

She immediately went in and said hi to Ada and Polly who smirked at her, knowing full well she stayed the night with Tommy.

“Where are you off to in such a hurry?” Polly asked.

“Just reporting to Tommy, is he here?” She asked glancing around.

“Not yet, but you can wait around here. I want all the details.” She said smirking.

Y/n smirked and sat down in a chair near Ada.

“Yes we fucked, what more do you want me to say?” She said taking a cigarette out of her pocket, Polly reaching out to light it.

Ada smirked “Well are you all dating or not? He hasn’t been with anyone since ya left for gods sake!” She said excitedly. Y/n’s eyes widened a bit in shock. Thomas Shelby not fucking around was something she’d never thought she’d hear.

“Well we definitely made up for lost time, but I don’t know if I’d call it dating. Hell, I just came back yesterday but I felt like I’ve never left. What do I make of that?” She asked.

“I think you should ask him. I’m sure he’s already said he loves ya. I can see it between you two.” Polly said. Y/n smiled remembering earlier at his house.

“Alright, I will.” Y/n said, watching the door, waiting for him to burst through.

Not 5 minutes later he did, walking straight into his office, his face expressionless as usual.

“Guess that’s my cue.” Y/n said sighing and reluctantly getting up.

“Good luck my dear.” Polly said before turning back to her work.

Y/n walked to the closed door before her and knocked three times, just as she did all those years ago.

“Come in.” Tommy said, his desk strewn with papers.

Tommy glanced up from his papers and motioned for her to shut the door. He quickly shuffled some of the papers away and sat up, his eyes on her as she took a seat in the leather chair.

“How did it go?” He asked taking a cigarette out of his metal case. Rubbing it on his lips before lighting it.

“Okay...I told him you’d accepted his offer and that you’d meet at Charlie’s yard on Monday at noon.” She said looking away from him.

He studied her movements, the way she fiddled with her hands, her eyes avoiding him, her brow furrowed with worry.

“What else did he say y/n?” He asked quietly.

She looked down as she spoke, tears threatening to fall.

“He said that I’d be back in no time. Meaning he probably wants me back any day now. He doesn’t know I’d be there with you all so I could just stay here as planned, but I don’t want them to find out I’m here. He said he had new men who’d love to meet me.” She said with a disgusted look on her face.

Tommy sighed and took a drag of his cigarette.

“I’m not letting them take you back, y/n. You don’t have to worry about that.” He said looking into her eyes.

“Well once his men find out I’m not back, he’s going to get word of it.” She said quickly wiping a stray tear from her face.

“If they do, we’ll just have to kill them then.” He said.

“What about the men back there? I’m not whoring myself out. I’m not doing that again. He’s a sick man.” She said as more tears fell. She hated doing things for her boss but it was a comply or be killed type of situation back then.

“You won’t have to do that anymore. You’re a blinder do you understand?” He said getting up and walking over to her. She got up and he pulled her into a hug, her cries muffling as she rested her head on his chest.

“I won’t let them hurt you. You’re safe here. Do you hear me? You won’t have to do that, I’m not ever sending you away again.” He said.

Once she calmed down, she looked up at him, his ocean eyes staring back at her.

“I love you...y/n I really do.” He said.

Y/n nodded and smiled. “I love you too.”

Later that night she got home late after joining the gang at the Garrison. Tommy was in the bathroom taking a shower while she was getting undressed and putting on a nightgown. She only had a finite amount of clothes, so luckily she was able to find the time to shop earlier during the day.

“I thought you’d be sleeping y/n.” He said as y/n sat up in bed reading one of Tommy’s books.

“I can’t, I have something on my mind.” She said, turning the pages.

“What is it?” He asked, getting in bed beside her. Kissing her shoulder as he watched her skim the book.

“Polly and Ada asked about us today. And Ada asked if we were together again...” she said, her heart racing as she spoke.

“Do you want to be together?” He asked. She took a moment to think, mad that she was so bitter before, but she decided to let those feelings go to make way for new ones. New beginnings perhaps.

“Yeah, I’d like to. Only if you promise to not boot me out again.” She said looking at him.

“Then we’re together then. And I’ve told you before love, I’m never making that mistake again.” He said kissing her shoulder before lying down. She smiled and closed the book, lying down and cuddling into his side for the night.

Over the next few days, they grew in their trust and in their relationship more. And when they weren’t dealing with the matters at hand, they decided to tell the family, which wasn’t much as they all expected it.

Y/n looked around the room at all of them, finally feeling okay with herself and with who was in her life, and by her side. But she couldn’t shake the nerves of her past, as she still had to deal with them when they got there.

Monday came around rather quickly though, much to everyone’s dismay. Her stomach lurched as she got a phone call at her new desk at the shop.

“Shelby Company Limited.” She said nicely.

“Tell y/n y/l/n we have a surprise for her. Courtesy of Mr. Romboldi.” He said and then hung up.

Her stomach lurched again, but in fear. She got up quickly, her face paling as she steadied herself at her desk, walking with shaking hands to Tommy’s office. It was an hour before noon. An hour before she had to get to her position.

She barged in frantically not caring that Tommy was in the middle of discussing the plans for today with Arthur and the boys.

“Hello y/n. What is it?” He said putting his cigarette out and sitting back in his chair with an annoyed look on his face.

“T-they know. Thomas they know my name. They know I’m here.” She said fear dancing wildly in her eyes.

Within seconds the boys grabbed their weapons and their caps and headed out the door to Charlie’s yard. Thomas on the other hand stayed behind.

“What happened y/n?” He asked gathering his things.

“I um, I got a call a few minutes ago. And he said tell y/n y/l/n we have a surprise for her. Courtesy of Mr. Romboldi.” She said her hands shaking.

Thomas paced around while checking the rounds in his gun. He pulled out a sniper rifle and loaded it as y/n stood there.

He quickly shoved the gun into y/n’s hands and stared at her.

“Y/n. Hey. Listen to me. I’m not letting him get you. I’m taking you to the rooftop overlooking Charlie’s yard ok? They won’t notice you. You’re going to go there and stay there unless we need you on the ground ok? Just take care of the men around us.” He said.

“Okay...” she said and followed him out to the car. He stepped on the gas, booking it there. It was easier for her to keep calm when she was hunting down other people, but it was terrifying knowing she’s become one of the hunted.

As they sped down the dirt covered streets they parked outside of an abandoned 3 story building. He quickly looked around and led her up to the roof to where she could see clearly. The wind nipping at her neck slightly as she adjusted her position and steadied her breathing. She could see John and Arthur standing guard below holding two suitcases and Michael, Finn, and Isiah on the opposite side waiting. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Tommy walk out into the middle of the area, checking his watch. As if on cue, a black dingy car pulled up as 5 men climbed out including Mr. Romboldi. They each had either a handgun or machine gun with them, along with a lone black suitcase.

She saw as Mr. Romboldi came near Tommy, sitting the briefcase on an old wooden table and opening it, revealing what looked to be a lot of money inside.

“I’m not here to take your money Mr. Romboldi, I’m here to give you your gin and your payment for your troubles.” He said as Arthur and John brought over the suitcases.

Mr. Romboldi smirked and lit a cigar. The smoke rising into the air.

“It’s not for you Mr. Shelby. It’s for y/n y/l/n.” He said.

“That name doesn’t sound familiar.” Tommy said, lighting a cigarette as he stared blankly.

“Are you sure? It sounds an awful lot like someone who we have workin’ for us by the same first name. You thought you could fool us y/n?” He said, loudly yelling the last part and looking around the rooftops.

Y/n quickly ducked down before he could look over towards the building she was perched on. Steadying her breathing as she waited.

Mr. Romboldi continued to ramble on.

“We know she’s here because she hasn’t came back to our headquarters, and my men are very fond of her. They’d know when a pretty girl like that goes missing.” He said. Still loud enough that she could hear.

Tommy blankly stared as he shook his head again, denying he knew her.

“Look, the only way we found out for sure was because one of them, a certain man she was seein’ mentioned her not visiting him. He was ya know...scheduled to see her one night this past week if you know what I mean...” He said chuckling.

“And he brought it up to my men and they contacted me while I was on that shitty boat. Now....I know we have a deal, and I’m accepting your payment this time, but I also have a deal of my own ya hear?” He said.

“I hear you. What’s the deal?” Tommy asked.

“You give me the money and the gin, and I pay you for y/n. She’s the best I’ve got in more ways than one despite her foolin’ us and I know she’s here. We researched into her little background and couldn’t find nothin’ on a fuckin’ Y/n Anderson.” He said taking another puff of his cigar.

“That’s unfortunate.” He said, growing tired of him talking. He motioned for Arthur and John to go as he sat up a bit.

“You ain’t leavin’ not with out giving me my girl.” He said. Her stomach turned over how he talked about her. Like she was some piece of meat ready for the wolves.

Tommy smirked and leaned in closer to him, one of Mr. Romboldis men pointing a gun at Tommy and walking near him until the barrel touched his temple.

He paid the gun little mind and continued.

“If she’s your girl...then why was she in my bed then aye?” He said, as he watched the older mans face grow red with anger.

“You bastard! I knew it. You can come on out y/n we have a ship to fuckin' catch.” He said yelling.

“I know for a fact that she wouldn’t want be with you. You’re just in a filthy razor gang!” He said. Tommy attempted to get up but not before the man clicked the gun a bit causing him to stop.

John and Arthur raised theirs as the other men stood guarding their boss, not getting a chance to reach for their guns. Arthur started beating one of them while John threw some punches and disarmed the other.

Y/n slowly raised her head up a little, just enough that she could get a clear shot.

Mr. Romboldi got up and took all the suitcases and walked to the car as Tommy tried to grab the mans arm to disarm him. He shot the gun, the bullet flying through the air at a random spot, hitting a building nearby.

Y/n aimed for the guys who were getting too rough with John and Arthur and quickly shot two bullets, each of them striking them in the head.

It gradually got more quiet as two of the 5 were dead. But Tommy still struggled with the man who held him at gunpoint taking a slew of punches to the face and chest. Michael, Finn, and Isiah fought the other two, giving her just enough time to find an opening to kill one of the men. She shot striking the man going after Finn, hitting him in the chest. The other guy soon ran over to Tommy, attempting to help the other man attack him. Tommy pinned one down laying punches on his face as blood sprayed up onto his dress shirt.

Y/n didn’t hesitate though, instead she shot the man who was about to attack him from behind.

As she took a moment to get her bearings, she saw Mr. Romboldi grab a machine gun out of his car, aiming right for Tommy who was slowly getting up after beating the guy to death. He unfortunately didn’t notice her boss aiming at him.

Before Tommy could pull out his own gun, he saw a shot hit the guys head. The once ruthless, balding, red-faced mafia leader from New York lying lifeless on the cold pavement as he bled out.

Tommy looked up and saw y/n. The smoke from the rifle still floating off the gun and into the air. He had never been so happy to be staring at the barrel of a gun, or more so the person behind it.

Without thinking, y/n got up and ran down the stairs and into the open area and ran straight to Tommy, not caring about the blood and dirt caking her shoes as she did so. He welcomed her with a warm embrace, as she looked up and examined his face, he was bleeding from his temple and his lip, but other than that he seemed fine. Despite his injured lip, she kissed him for a moment before he stopped her and looked down at her.

“Thank you, y/n.” He said.

She just nodded and embraced him again. Happy that she had the man that she loved back in her arms, and a job she loved to go to everyday. As crazy as it was, she wouldn’t trade this life for the world, no matter the cost.

[vesperlionheart]

Vesper’s Quarantine ‘Finished’ Reading List

If you’re stuck indoors and feeling anxious sometimes the best thing is to drown your brain in distractions until you’re able to function again. Thus, I’ve put together a list of Sakura centric stories to entertain you. There’s a lot of shameless self promo here, fair warning, but it’s my blog and my blogpost so that’s where we’re gonna start.  Some of my favorite fic are ones still being updated but this list includes only stories marked as [complete]. 

[Finished personal fic]

Obelisk: Kingdom of Man By: VesperChan 'She could swear she smelt sulfur when she exhaled. Nothing good ever came from boys who smelled like sulfur.' An ancient Egyptian curse and a world of dreams opens Sakura up to a life devoid of safety. In the darkness her nightmares bow themselves to her. In the morning they feast on her heart. AU SakuraMany Obelisk: Kingdom of Beasts By: VesperChan One Kingdom down, three to go. Carrying the scars on her heart, Sakura must brave the dreams again as this time, there are more sinister things then men waiting for her when she goes to sleep. The wolves have come to feast and her body will know their teeth. AU SakuraMany Obelisk: Kingdom of Monsters By: VesperChan More than halfway through the curse, Sakura's nightmares hold nothing back as fangs and spells seek to drag her down and bury her with the dead. Monsters have come at least to feast on what is left of her bones and devour her wounded heart. Beyond the scars and bloodshed, her soul is beginning to fade under the dim lights of another enchanted speakeasy and ruby eyes. AU SakuraMany Obelisk: Kingdom of Gods By: VesperChan Entering the final kingdom, Sakura stands atop a castle of sand to face down the gods who first orchestrated the curse and began the bloody tradition of collecting human souls in a little black obelisk. Gladiators, Egyptian gods, and blood thirsty pharaohs paint a vivid picture on the inside of her mind as she sleeps, dreams, and struggles once again. AU SakuraMany Total word count for Obelisk series: 565,292 (just over half a million words)

RED KING By: VesperChan In the wild country where it never snows but always freezes, the Red King marches his armies against the White Tsar. That is why Sakura is swept away from the lonely streets and the empty barracks into a car with a bastard prince and a promise of redemption, but if only she can face the demons that chased her in the first place and be what the king needs in his war. SakuraCentric 

Touken Revolution by Vesperchan (rated E)  Sakura, a sword smith, is nearly killed for what she really is: a sage, one who can animate weapons into warriors and give bodies to the souls she hears inside swords. Now a refugee in the land of Kiri she's building an army because it's her only hope for survival and maybe even happiness. SakuraKiri Sakura centric

Things We Lost in the Fire By: VesperChan Years later, living alone in the woods with half a dozen dogs, questionable reading material, and crippling non-attachment issues, Sakura realizes she has turned into her teacher. Agebent Sakura Sensei ShiSaku

Jealous gods by Vesperchan When a coup takes the lives of the king and the rest of the royal family, Sakura, the sole surviver, escapes to the edge of the world with Kakashi to strike a bargain with an old god. Her worship in exchange for his power. She's warned he's a dark and jealous god, but that's not enough to sway her. ItaSaku Kakasaku darkItachi AU

Lindworm & the Tam Lin Love a Changling by Vesperchan Sakura travels as a curse breaker across the land, doing what she can to put some peace back into the world. She doesn't think much of it when she breaks the curse on a lesser dragon or a fae knight, but maybe she should have. MadaSaku, HashiSaku Poly

A Confluence of Stars by Vesperchan (my WitcherAU) With the war over between two princedoms, Sakura, a sniper, returns home to celebrate Confluence with her grandmother, the local Story Keeper. She had expected it to be nothing more than just another celebration when the star rivers overlapped and the poor people partied. But, along with the rest of the world, Sakura soon realizes that Confluence did more than just give people a reason to celebrate. A wicked new world filled with monsters and magic straight from Baba's tales spills into theirs, and Sakura is forced to turn to her rifle and her stories to make sense of it. Sakuracentric 

Sugarplum by Vesperchan "They will use you up, and love you all the while, until there is nothing left of the girl you used to be." Sakura had been a chosen one, once upon a time, but that was years ago, and all the magic has left her. Still, the world calls her back and she has a new role in supporting the next girl savior many years her junior. ItaSakuSaso

Stag by Vesperchan  He was a wizard with a tower and a set of rules he should never break. Sakura was a girl with just a bit of budding magic he decides he can't ignore. Some things were made to be broken. TobiSaku 

[Finished general fic list]

Hollow Point by Sariasprincy @sariasprincy​ Arms dealing is her trade, but young and in a man's world, it takes a criminal mastermind to play with the big dogs without getting bit. TobiSaku/ItaSaku. Crime!AU. Rated M for mentions of adult themes.

Where it Happened also by @sariasprincy​e He was the new head of Cardio and her new boss, and though she thought him a little full of himself, it seemed there was more to the famed Uchiha Itachi than he led on. Not that she could claim her life was that uncomplicated as well. ItaSaku. Modern AU. Grey's Anatomy AU. Rated M for mentions of adult themes.

Nightmare in Red by @sariasprincy​ Haruno Sakura used to think the eyes were the windows to the soul, but after witnessing the horrors of the Sharingan firsthand, she's convinced they are the doors. ItaSaku. Nonmass. Rated T

Blurred Lines  by @sariasprincy​He was an international criminal. She was a federal agent. And she wanted nothing more than to arrest him - or shoot him - if only he would stop providing her leads to more desirable criminals first. MadaSaku. Rated T.

The Man in Black  A man in black haunts her hospital. But what does he want and why is it that Sakura is the only one that can see him? ItaSaku. Modern Myth AU. Death AU

The Choices We Make by @sariasprincy​He was the Head of the Uchiha Clan and she the fearless discipline of the Hokage, but how the hell was she supposed to find the strength to tell him she was pregnant? MadaSaku. Rated M for mentions of adult themes.

halcyon days by jaylene @thefreckledone​ Sakura sees dead people. Well, two dead people to be exact. Everything changes. Sakura-centric. Indra/Sakura/Ashura. 

hands like houses by @thefreckledone Sakura finds herself trapped in the past and discovers a new family along the way, however unwilling she may be. Time travel. Fix-it fic. Sakura-centric.

Borage by @thefreckledone Sakura is in search for answers. What she finds doesn't please her.

Forest Fire by Moor @kendochick-moor Mod AU. Sasu x Saku x Ita. A small spark can launch a forest fire.

Forest Fire II by Moor @kendochick-moor Sequel to "Forest Fire". University AU. Sasu X Saku X Ita. After Sasuke inexplicably broke up with her when he leaves for Oto, Sakura throws herself into her school and social life. Friends like Ino, and surprisingly Itachi, are there to help her along the way. Meanwhile another threat, in the form of unbalanced Uchiha Madara, stalks her, ever nearer.

Tipsy series by Moor @kendochick-moor Mod AU. MadaSaku. The 1-5 part  of the "5 Drunkfics" prompts.  (Rated 'M' for language & themes)

Akatsuki Sakura AU by moor  DeiSaku, ItaSaku. Konoha-verse AU. Akatsuki Sakura AU. Raised by Uchiha Madara as part of the Akatsuki, Sakura is sent to infiltrate Konoha's ranks. Things become complicated when she is promoted to a team with one of Konoha's most well-respected ANBU captains, Uchiha Itachi.

Soulmates by Moor - KakaSaku. Age-swap AU. Based on the "Soulmates" prompt from the October 2015 tumblr KakaSaku fest. Kakashi has a reputation as an enfant terrible; at least, until Sakura sensei takes him under her wing. Rated M for later chapters.

Fancy Footwork by silverfootsteps @silverfootstepswrites For Sakura, there's always been dreary days of schoolwork and unreliable people. Who knew a clumsy womanizer, an accidental pervert, a soft-hearted glutton, and an incredibly sexy virgin would light her life up like this? A friendship founded on dancing and the strange threat that tied them all together: "Fiji". AU

Equinox by silverfootsteps Sakura is half-siren, half-human, and 100% unprepared for what waits for her when she moves to a little seaside town. A place where calling someone a monster always receives the answer: "….well, duh". Monster AU. Multisaku.

Lullaby by Silverfootsteps Sakura is part-siren, part-human, and learning how to deal with a nest of lovable dorks. But nothing seems impossible in the sleepy little town of Old Pines, where magic hangs heavy in the air and a certain werewolf has learned to stop pissing everywhere. Sort of. Sequel to Equinox. Monster AU. Polysaku af.

Butterfly by silverfootsteps After winning her first and only Olympic gold, Haruno Sakura shocks the world by announcing her retirement from skating. When she returns to her little hometown of Konoha, she finds that not much has changed. The same old temples, the same old persimmon trees. Resigned to a quiet life, she settles in for what she hopes will be an uneventful retirement. Skating AU. Itasaku.

Five Kingdoms for the Dead by Evil Is A Relative Term After the Forest of Death, Sakura comes to realize that being weak is no longer an option. However, she finds that change is sometimes painful and that truth doesn't always come easy. Luckily, she'll have some help along the way.

Vertigo by Cynchick Sakura accepts the most critical and dangerous mission of her life, but the price of success may very well be her soul. When your entire world turns upside down, how do you keep from going under? DeiSaku.

An Indispensable Assistant by TayMor Professional. Intelligent. Intuitive. Haruno Sakura is the assistant every boss wants. She is smart, she is capable, and she is experienced. Operating with her own hard and fast rules, Sakura has one, very important personal rule. Never fall in love with your boss. However, being indispensable to Uchiha Itachi will put that rule under heavy duress. AU. 

The Third Chance by TayMor reviewsJust because he died didn't mean he got to stay dead. The Rikudo Sennin reincarnates Uchiha Madara as his 26 year old self and he begins his third life broken, humiliated and full of despair. But things change as Madara finds himself competing against Sasuke for the attention of Konoha's favorite medic... MadaSakuSasu Set after the final battle and during the blank period.

Rainy Days by Wynth It took her a while before Sakura was convinced that she was once again in her twelve year old body, but by that time it was too late. •Time-Travel / AU•

Consequences of Saving a Life by BelleDayNight reviewsAt the end of the war, Neji is revived by Sakura. She has saved his life, now she is responsible for it. The Hyuga clan leader covets the power that Naruto and Sakura could bring the clan with unions with Hinata and Neji. Can they survive the politics of the noble clan? Naruto trains with Sasuke and Hanabi for CPE while Sakura and Neji embark on a mission together for the Daimyo.

Take It or Leave It by kc-archive  Akatsuki & Sakura. After a moment of shock, Sakura realized that two fully grown, fully naked men were sitting squished uncomfortably together in her bathtub. (dubcon warning)

Till Death Due Us Apart  by SpeedDemon315​ Ever since he was gone, she never was the same. The world was warm and cheery while she was cold and dreary. She thought there was no hope left for her…or was there? Oneshot, character death [SasorixSakura]

Bringing Back What's Dead by SpeedDemon315  Sequel to Till Death Due Us Apart. She made a promise to herself to discover a way to revive him and have him finally see his son. What happens when your greatest enemy from the past is the only one who can grant your fondest wish? SakuraxSasori

Time Flies Like An Arrow by katlou303 Sakura traveled back in time with the intent of changing everything, but something went wrong, and now she's a four-year-old civilian having nightmares about impossible monsters and losing friends she has yet to meet.

Uneasy coexistence by DeGlace One grinning shark–man. One pink–haired medic. Ankles. Teeth. Kisame x Sakura. Yes, you read that right.

The Art of War by leafygirl  Entry for the LJ Kakasaku AU contest. Sakura gets stuck following her teacher after a bet with her friends. But his mysterious life is nothing she ever expected.

Vespertine by Cynchick  Two enemies strike a bargain to save what they both hold dear. He will reveal a truth that shakes her beliefs, drawing her into a web of lies and betrayal. She will offer the redemption for which he never hoped and show him how to be human again. ItaSaku.

Caught and Set Loose by Celtic Oak AU. On a mission, Sakura and her companions find themselves in the custody of the wildest clan of the East Province. Forced to accept their hospitality and a redheaded escort, the medic must make the best of her situation, wherever it leads her. GaaSaku. 

[cornelthecursed]

The story behind the vampire

// Finally after weeks of putting it off, Cornel’s story is ‘revamped’ so to speak (see the pun hehehe) A lot was added and a lot was redacted, but it does not change the interaction you might have with the vampire gentleman. Don’t worry you didn’t loose all too much from his story if you didn’t read the previous version and I quite get that asking you to read around 1,7k words long background to my character might be a little more than usual, however, I would very much appreciate if you could at least give it a skim.

Without further ado - let’s dive into it:

🩸 Early childhood

Cornelius’ life started like any other - being born to parents that were well off, he never had to worry about not having anything to eat at the end of the day. He had not suspected that he might have been of supernatural origin at all. However, not everything is all nice and pleasant when you are born in the 1500s. Even if he had no idea about magics and vampires or other supernatural creatures, humans around them did. You see, his parents were not regular humans either - a mother who was a renowned vampiress and his father being the son of the Lightbringer himself, attracted unwanted attention.

The city was in uproar with accusing everyone of witchcraft and his parents were no exception. His mother had enough foresight to hide the poor child in the tool shed of their gardens when the inquisition came to get them. Cornelius stayed there for hours not knowing what was going on exactly, he had thought that bad people came to speak to his parents and so he had to hide (it was not the first time he had done so, an antichrist and a vampire marrying and actually creating an offspring isn’t exactly approved of), however, as the hours passed and his stomach grumbled with bigger intensity the longer he stayed there he slipped outside.

It didn’t take long to figure out that his parents were not home, nor their servants. Everyone was dragged off apparently and the boy did the next best thing. Grabbing a few pieces of food to eat at the moment he slipped into his bed. Being woken up early the next day by shouts of the guards to bag anything they saw for their taking Cornel used every wit he had at his disposal to hide and run away from his family home.

He realized pretty soon that he would have to scavenge for food to make due, going around town he begged where he could, nipping a bread or a grape from the odd basket put on the floor while they bantered for a better price. A first sneak peek into the life of crime for our little Cornelius. However it wasn’t long before a certain man found the boy stealing from him and decided to make him pay for the food by actually working for him - as an apprentice, since he had no children of his own. The man turned out to be the later famous man Leonardo da Vinci.

🩸 Adolescence

Gaining skills in woodworking and actually staying still (whenever muse struck his adoptive father to draw him) kept Cornel busy during his early years. Soon he was being sent out to make deals, or meet people in Leonardo’s stead when he had proven capable enough. He trained almost daily to keep his body well kept and he had a prospect in joining an order that went against the corruption that was going on in the city they lived in.

However, fate had a different plan for him. Around the age fourteen he had got very sick, to a point where he was bed ridden. No one knew what was happening to him, the doctor that was called had thought it was tuberculosis, since he was coughing up blood.

Turns out it was the year that changed his life completely. He had eventually, after weeks upon weeks of the lungs hurting and heart palpitations, turned into a creature of the night he had never heard of, with thirst that could not be satiated with normal means.

He could still feel his heartbeat, he could still breathe (even if the time he could spend underwater drastically prolonged), yet he looked different. His eyes changed from their previous blue color to red, whites exchanged for blackness that seemed to be unending, not to mention the fangs. He couldn’t go out during the day anymore either. And yet he had started researching (perhaps he had learned from his adoptive father or not), looking into anything supernatural he could get his hands on. Eventually he had found a witch who helped him with the sun dilemma, the constant voices in his head (turns out our boy is telepathic) and the weird object movement that happened around him (telekinetic powers as well). She even taught him a few glamour spells to cover up his real identity, which helped him to establish himself into the society once again.

🩸 Adulthood - until the WW I

The years went by and he trained with the assassins. He wasn't very skilled in hand-to-hand combat (and still has trouble with it) but he had been shaped into a skillful tracker, strategist and sniper/long range combatant. He used his powers to help the guild where he could, but more often than not he got captured by the enemy and tortured in many various ways, which left scars on his physical body. Surprisingly he coped with the mental scars pretty well.

Still as a young vampire, he fell in love with a beautiful mortal woman. He had created a bond with her on a spiritual level he had not known was possible (granted that was the result of his supernatural nature and them exchanging their blood accidentally), he was at first scared of the fact that they could feel each other’s emotions and had to come forth to his partner as not being completely human. Yet Emalia took it in stride and accepted him for what he was, which Cornel was eternally grateful for.Their wedding was the most joyous thing in his life, right after the birth of his daughter, Caitlin. Few months after that he picked on work yet again, this time he decided for a more docile one, since he had a family to take care of.

Yet as it was in life - when there are good things, bad ones are right behind the corner. One night when he had stayed longer in town working on a wooden piece for one of his clients his world turned upside down. He had found his family murdered in their own home, his heart breaking in half at the sight. Not to mention the chest ache from the bond breaking didn’t help any. 

After burying them and still stricken with grief he made it his personal mission to hunt down those that killed his immediate family, since that was the only one he had in this world. But oh, if it ended there. He found the two hunters of course, but the newfound bloodlust that dulled the pain he felt, the surge of power with the amount of blood he consumed….it didn’t end well for the city of Venice, near which he had lived. 

The bloodshed that he had caused took around five vampires to stop. Only when he was face down on the flagstones, tears running down his cheeks from the amount of pain he was feeling and seeing what he had caused made him sober up. That was the day he met his best friend Leoric - not without a nice little story to exchange between themselves now as they recalled the old days, the poor two thousand year old vampire of a viking had a scar to prove their first meeting made by none other than yours truly.

After that incident with Leoric keeping a close eye on the young pureblood, Cornelius had moved out of his home country, not being able to stay because of the memories and more importantly hunters that were hot on his tail. Few attempts were made at his life during his stay in Italy by the aforementioned group, scarring the otherwise perfect skin around his heart and a thin line across his throat.  Finding a  nice spot in the UK, a few hours away from London and near a small village Ibberton, Cornel started on building his dream home in the middle of a clearing. Not even realizing how but had built himself a sizable mansion.

🩸 Adulthood - WW I & after

The world wars rolled in. Cornel felt obliged to answer the call to arms and yet there was more imminent war than the one between the humans. His own race was warring against the werewolves all the while archduke was assassinated in Sarajevo. It was not a big battle, a skirmish at most a couple of hundred of kilometers away from his own home, yet Cornelius was not left unscathed. 

Up until that point he was making his fortune in tracking people and even killing them if the contract required it off him, however, after he returned home from the vampire-werewolf war he had to put that kind of job on hold. He prided himself on being a good strategist, on observing and using the information the best he could, yet it is completely different to do so on the battlefield. One second of not paying attention and he ended with a spear coated in werewolf’s blood through his left knee. 

Even after years or healing, of drinking antidote for months after the battle, he was left with a limp. Relieving him of duties towards the United Kingdom in the upcoming wars. With the time that suddenly appeared in his hands he started to seek different hobbies (not sure how tracking and killing people could be a hobby but to each their own). Leoric, who was always somewhere around his old time friend suggested to take up cooking, since he himself was baking and found enjoyment in it. Few tries later and the vampire sacrificed sleep in attempt to perfect his skills in the kitchen.

By the end of the twentieth century, he was a skilled chef that would give Gordon a run for his money and since there really was no better time than to start his own business than after the world wars he did that. Funding the rent of a place in Ibberton, he founded Assaggia la Storia, an Italian restaurant keeping true to his family roots.

Granted there are many stories and little tidbits that occurred in vampire’s life - be it how other vampires flocked to him or how he actually managed to lay claim to his family heirloom back in Italy. Yet these are the ones that marked his life the most, making an impact on how he is now. The rest are for you to discover through mutual interaction.

Updated: 18th August 2021

[presumenothing]

Would you ever write uhhhhh Wrath!Riza AU?

your brain, anon. i like it

-

aqua regia (for destruction, ice) // AO3

Not all that burns is fire. 

(Or: Riza becomes Wrath.)

-

i. 

In another world Riza Hawkeye might have asked the Flame Alchemist to burn away the circle on her back, might have looked at those scars in the mirror and pretended they could lift any of the weight from her shoulders.

In this world that is the least dangerous of everything Wrath carries: a stone at her core red as her eye behind the rifle scope, as hands complicit in plans to burn up this country tearing the heavens from their sky.

She cannot walk away from death as easily as Lust or Envy can, but when the elixir had slid into her veins Riza had burned from the inside and Wrath had walked away with that fire still in her veins, always searing beneath skin that she doubts mortal flame can scar.

(“Now hold still, dear girl,” the scientist had said, gold tooth gleaming dull in lab-light, “it’ll hurt worse if you struggle,” and Riza had remembered Berthold Hawkeye saying the same thing to Wrath at ten and fifteen and eighteen, red on her skin red underneath red burning its way into her heart, and it had been a lie then too.)

.

ii.

Wrath is angry at everyone and everything at once; furious at the ones who had found a cadet with steady hands and steadier soul and saw fit to unmake that, at herself, at those who knew how blood-drenched this country was and kept painting it anyway. The first time she had seen Roy Mustang again she would have snapped his neck clean in half if not for the knowledge of how valuable State Alchemists were in the chessboard of this country.

(That, and her own distaste for the heat of blood over her own hands. Riza has heard enough from Father and the other homunculi to surmise that the previous incarnations of Wrath had loved blood like the edge of a blade freshly sharpened on diamond.

But she is a sniper – the best markswoman Amestris has ever seen, even before they gave her an eye that could see through anything. Why else would they have chosen her?)

She is the Hawk’s Eye, the Fury of Ishval, hell and its woman scorned all in one, and she makes it known in constellations of bullets and impossible shots, precise and deadly as any alchemist’s array.

Riza had been angry too, when she had let herself be, but hers is a cold ire, locked beneath glaciers and the burn of frostbite.

Wrath makes no such pretences. Wrath answers to a dead woman’s name, and Officer – Lieutenant – Major Hawkeye holds her anger boiling right under the surface, scalds her hands in it and fires the next shot.

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iii.

Roy Mustang holds her at a careful arm’s length.

It might’ve been offensive if it weren’t so ironic. He of all humans should know what it means to hold flame in your hands: let one weakness slip and fire would burn it right through like so much dry grass.

Then again, maybe it’s that same familiarity that breeds wariness. Riza would hardly know. Fury is not the absence of fear, but in her case it’s fairly close anyway.

Either way, it’s the same distance that prevents Mustang from recognising Wrath’s work in doctoring the Elric brothers’ documents a whole two decades older. 

He decides to take Havoc with him, citing something about the persuasion of fellow Easterners; Riza remains in East Command and doesn’t wonder how he will react to finding out that the alchemists he is looking to enlist as human weapons are just barely a third his age.

Not even half of hers, unless you counted the several years since she had become Wrath. 

Company for you, Riza thinks none too quietly, and Wrath bristles, shoving her away to wrest back control.

(Riza lets her. This is exactly the duty she’d been assigned – locating potential sacrifices among the State Alchemists and beyond, so there’s not even any insubordination for Wrath to report, even if she won’t realise until much later how spot on she’d been to find one who’d already been through the Gate.

For now she listens to the Flame Alchemist’s empty-handed return from Resembool, hears him say with seemingly unwarranted certainty I saw the fire in his eyes, and this time she does wonder how he can notice that yet miss the same thing in hers.

Riza knows what she sees in the mirror, after all, even if she always has one eye hidden behind a false lens and swept fringe.)

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iv.

Wrath, unsurprisingly, finds the Fullmetal Alchemist an absolute riot. 

Eight pints of unrefined rage wrapped in red with the volume cranked up to fifty percent past maximum, and if you had asked anyone at all to name one person in this room who might be the personification of fury itself – well.

Edward Elric gets angry in a way that neither of them know how to be. Riza runs cold where Wrath veers hot, but it’s always controlled, the reins another line in the delicate balance between them; in contrast Edward is an explosion, angry and incandescent with it, and sometimes Riza almost wishes they were like that too.

(No you don’t, Wrath mutters over the scratch of a pen.

Riza blinks and sighs, blacking out a line of expletives about Hakuro and the latest shitshow he’d thrown at them; homunculi weren’t much for paperwork. It’d make some things easier, you have to admit. He gets things done.

Like getting himself nearly killed three separate times in a week, ooh, aren’t you supposed to be babysitting the sacrifices, Wrath? I’d like to see them doing it–

Riza doesn’t sigh again, but it’s close.)

Neither of them feel particularly bad about keeping silent over the Elrics’ search when she’s sitting right here, but on Riza’s part it’s mostly because she’s seen enough to be certain that Edward at least would never use a Philosopher’s Stone if he learned what had gone into its making.

Wrath is just looking forward to the day he does find out. Now that’ll be something to watch.

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v.

She meets Greed walking down a hallway one afternoon, nodding cordially at the flurry of salutes as he passes each of his people.

Wrath doesn’t miss a beat with her own salute. “Your Excellency.”

“At ease, Major,” the Fuhrer replies with a wave of his hand, but he slows down anyway. “I hear young Elric has made some – acquaintances, shall we say, from Xing with exceptional sensing capabilities. He does collect the most interesting people. I’m impressed.”

“Fullmetal doesn’t take kindly to being called young, sir,” Riza says. “I did hear the same, but I haven’t had the chance of meeting them yet.”

(Not for the first time, she wonders why they had thought it a good idea to put Amestris and all that it represents in Greed’s hands. If humans are possessions to be had, what stopped him from deciding that he’d rather keep it all for himself in the end?)

The Fuhrer smiles, benign as any lethal poison. “Let me know if you’d like some time back in the East, I’m sure your grandfather would enjoy a visit too.”

“I have my duties here, and I’m afraid I’m not much of a chess player. It would only bore General Grumman.”

Wrath’s hands do not tense at her sides, but only because they’re both too disciplined for that. Her aim is every bit as true as his swords, and she might not be able to die and walk away unscathed but neither can Greed; how dare he, Riza thinks.

How dare he, Wrath seethes in agreement, and perhaps it’s time to let some things slip to the Elrics after all.

(She is angry at them, for taking this entire plan one-and-a-half steps closer to fruition, but Riza is angry at everyone; this is just par for the course.

The difference is that she is even angrier for them. Riza barely remembers her mother, and if Berthold had still been alive Wrath would have killed him anyway, so she cannot honestly say that she understands the Elrics in that regard.

But Edward rages at the universe demanding equivalency from it while Alphonse aims cuttingly sharp remarks and wonders about his humanity in the next breath. They would be furious if they knew, anger burning hot and frigid cold, and she is Wrath and Riza Hawkeye and both and neither – this, she understands.)

.

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+1.

“There was something I’d wanted to ask of you, after Ishval, if – things had been different,” Mustang finishes blindly in more ways than the literal, and it’s irritating what a production he can make out of not saying if I hadn’t mistrusted you.

Riza’s fringe is properly out of her eyes for the first time in years, not that he can see it, and she’d walked away from the Promised Day essentially unscathed but the Philosopher’s Stone is gone now along with Wrath; if she did ask the Flame Alchemist to burn away the circle after regaining his eyesight it would even scar over properly.

She won’t. She knows she won’t. 

Wrath had known it too. Riza still hasn’t quite parsed the jumbled impressions of those last moments, but above all of it there had been mirth. Amusement, because they had both looked at Riza’s soul unfolding around them and recognised the anger there that was hers. Had always been, only shut away and sunk deep in ice. 

If she has any fire in her veins now it is only proverbial, but she is still the Hawk’s Eye, the Fury of Ishval, and there’s more than enough left to burn the next person who tries to lay hands on her.

She looks at Roy Mustang now and continues to not snap his neck because he might be the best hope for this sorry excuse of a country, and anyway if she strangled an injured man in his hospital bed Wrath would laugh at her from another plane and say told you so, he had it coming.

“I’d rather you continue not asking it, Colonel,” Riza says, controlled as ever, but the anger is her own and she relishes the cold-hot burn of it. “I was Wrath, sir, consider yourself lucky that I didn’t let my finger slip on the trigger anytime during Ishval.”

Mustang winces, like he’d managed to avoid consciously putting it together until this point. “I suppose that, ah, rather answers it anyway. So that’s a no to supporting my bid for presidency?”

“That depends on your plans. Which you can tell me about after I’ve returned from my month’s worth of personal leave,” she adds pointedly, and turns to go instead of adding that Greed’s not exactly a high bar to beat anyway. “Have a speedy recovery, sir. Good day.”

Mustang’s expression as the door closes suggests that he’s actually okay with having a second-in-command that has been angry at him for years, and she’s… not sure what to do with that, really, but maybe she can work with it. Maybe.

(Fury is not the absence of fear, nor a dearth of kindness; the Elrics are proof enough of that. Riza knows what she saw in the mirror this morning, familiar and foreign all at once, and she’ll just have to figure out the rest from there.

Perhaps she’ll drop by Resembool and stay for a bit. She’s not angry at anyone there, not anymore – it might be a nice change of pace for once.)

.

.

.

EDIT: NOW WITH ART FROM ART

(more fics here)

oh boy. this was literally stream of consciousness on my part with even less planning than usual, impossible as that sounds – all i knew i wanted was for wrath!riza to be much more like greed!ling than wrath!bradley, because otherwise what would be the point. 

but then even as i was writing i realised how many people riza would have reason to be angry at, justified or otherwise: roy for the whole flame alchemy thing, the elrics for getting into this mess, even grumman for leaving her with berthold if he’d even suspected what was going on (and for the record, wrath would 100% killed berthold on riza’s behalf if he hadn’t already been dead)

and then i dithered on how to finish this (and indeed whether to finish it at all, i was tempted to throw hands after the second to third sections) but then my three brain cells summarily went GIVE RIZA HAWKEYE AGENCY GIVE IT BACK TO HER and fuck yeah i agreed. so here we are. in this verse roy never asks her the whole “guard my back but also shoot me if i go wrong” thing, because it’d just be… utterly ridiculous, in context, and also it’s possible that riza ends up leaving the military entirely or goes to support olivier for fuhrer instead. wrath would certainly appreciate the hell outta that

anyway this is a mess and probably the most ooc riza i have ever written but i hope y’all enjoyed it anyway

title notes: aqua regia aka regal water, a nitric/hydrochloric acide mixture so named by alchemists for dissolving noble metals like gold + a bit cribbed straight off robert frost

[guigz1-coldwar]

'Break the chains' : New chapter for "Redemption in a Spirit in a Cold War" is out !

"Break the chains"

Chapter Summary : Yirina was unfortunately captured by Duvall's men and could finally met the man in person but she can count on something.....

To read it on AO3, click here !

Words : +3600

----------------------------

We maybe saved Alvarez but at what price ? That mission weren't supposed to happen as we didn't have enough intels about the place and the fact that it was very unexpected. We all thought that we were going to finally rest in our beds after making Derazio fly down off his penthouse but instead, we had to run off to save Alvarez as he wanted to flee the country and that what we did.....until the tide has turned in Duvall's men favor that came in great number by surprise and we needed to run away from this place....too late for me.

I was covering Wolf's escape before the burning pole fall just behind, avoiding me to join the others and then, I was knocked down by behind and dragged away from that place by those men as the others has maybe escaped with no choices. I can't blame them....I can only blame myself for it....I should have been faster to run away instead of staying like an idiot behind that cover. Now, those guys is going to either kill me away and bringing me to Duvall himself and to be frankly, these people.....they're acting pretty strange with their white hoods.....who are these people ?

The muffled sounds of cheerings start to slowly make me regain consciousness of the situation around me as I opened my eyes, my vision all troubled because of that hit I received in the back of my head. It was still hurting and feeling very dizzy as my vision was recovering and I could feel my hands tied up in metal chains, raised up, my back against a brick wall, sit on a sort of podium and then, I could start to see people....dressed in white robes & hoods in front of the podium, cheering, their fists in the air. It was looking in a lost place in the Bayou but I can't tell where exactly.

I couldn't believe it as I thought that I was trapped in a kind of stupid joke until I realized that those men weren't kidding at all. I looked up to see a man dressed this time in a fully red robes & a red hood too, must be their leader....and then, I realized that it was Duvall in person as I heard his muffled voice behind his stupid hood. There were an guard next to him and I could see him talk to Duvall as he just saw me, waking up.

"The sinner has awakened !" I could hear Duvall shout to the masked crowd who started to make some cheers for him and booing at me before Duvall faced me.

"Already dressed up for an costume party ?" I start to joke around at him, seeing all these persons in robes before the guard that was near him decided to throw me an punch in the jaw, not even breaking it or making any harm on it. "Is this everything you got ?" I added again and he wanted to continue until Duvall put his arm in front of him.

"Don't...." He said, looking at him. "She will soon understand our fight, white brother." The guard looked away in shame as seen throught his hood before he walk away to get back at its former position, leaving only me with Duvall. "So, you decide to interfere in my little plan." He decide to remove his hood to reveal to me his face that I already know before I spit on his face.

"Take it as a yes, Duvall !" I smirked, trying to keep cool and calm as I am chained and in real danger with those mens. He wasn't looking angry at all.

"So uncivilized." He cleaned up the mess I made on his face. "You, the Europeans....are very disturbing, I can say." He added as he start to slowly move to get closer to me. "Throwing my lieutenant from his hotel, helping this goddamn Cuban out of that burning place but now, you're here...at my mercy."

"At first, was it a compliment ?" I asked to him, he shook his head....of course....."And second, fuck you !" I breathed before he decided to pull out an knife from his robes. "What are you doing ?" I said mixed between been scared and angriness.

"Hold her off, I'm going to mark her." He ordered to his former guard and another one and they both complied. I tried to move quickly but they were more faster, blocking my legs to do anything as Duvall was removing a part of my small-bloodied shirt, getting the knife above where was my heart. "The mark of the sinner !" He exclaimed before he start to make a cross with the knife on my skin.

I wanted to scream very loudly because of the pain but one of his henchman was covering my mouth. The worst of it is that Duvall was making it very slowly while I was enduring the pain with all my strengh before Duvall finally gestured to his men to move away, letting me free in a way. I looked at my chest, seeing now a bloodied cross on it...above my heart, he didn't put the knife deep enough to hit my heart, he just wanted....to mark me....

"You're fucking crazy !" I yelled at his face, realizing that this man is in the same level of Perseus himself. "Looking like an second Perseus !" My words make him move to grab my chin hardly with his hands, looking very angry.

"Perseus ?" He whispered at me. "This damn russian can go fuck himself with his little friends that were around me." He added, apparently still angered by Perseus decision to stop giving weapons. "He want me to lay low and to not move but he can't understand how my world is working and what my ambitions once I'll get Reagan out."

"That was this all about, right ?" I asking, starting to guess his real ambitions. "The guns were going to be used in a little coup d'état against Washington and you will be the new president." I breathed, rolling my eyes & thinking about it. "If you can't win legally, let's do it by force." I raised an eyebrow to him, awaiting, fighting inside of me the pain from the wound.

"That's right, Reagan is convinced that we need to help the free world but does he think about the americans first ?" He asked and I couldn't respond it....I'm not american and not an expert on the US politics.

"Even if you do this, you will still stay the perfect Perseus american puppet." I affirmed and he seemed annoyed by me and my thoughts about it.

"Maybe even if I despited them because they're not americans but at least, I will have achieve my goal." He snorted as he decided to get up, still facing me. "'Stitch' is gonna soon have his plan set in motions and you can't stop us." 'Stitch'.....the 'DOUCHEBAG' that was on that file about Greenlight in my memories....the brother of that Sonya that has 'plans in motion'....shit...Duvall then put his hood on him, giving to me a last look. "If you please, my men will want to hear a speech from me." He then turned around to face the crowd.

I couldn't listen to his little speech as I was already annoyed by him before and I'm not intending to be like this again but then, from afar, I could see a Duvall's henchman that was protecting some sort of ruins, getting suddenly disappear in it, apparently neutralized.....the cavalry has arrived, Yiri !.....I could finally hope more as I was seeing a little white light coming far in front of me....the scope of a sniper rifle....Wolf.....they found me.....They are my guardians angels !

"Hey, Duvall !" I called him out, causing him to look at me, breaking him off his speech. "You believe in guardians angels ?" I asked but he didn't responded as he looked back to the crowd....to be immediately greeted by an bullet right in the head by Wolf and then, it was the beginning of the panick for Duvall's men.

"They have killed the 'messiah' !" A man shouted inside the crowd...damn, those peoples are fucking weird.

The guards that was near Duvall move near his dead body as multiples gunshots start to be heard all around the place and finally, another shot from Wolf hit right the chains I was tied up to, allowing me to break free and getting up to start strangle the guard who punched me with the chains that was still on my left hand. His buddy tried to react at me and to counter him, I decided to use the guard I was strangling as an human shield, taking all the mag this guy just shot.

As he was trying to reload, I quickly took the dead guard SMG and shot a simple bullet right in the head, disposing of him. All of that while I was fighting the pain on my chest because of Duvall. Everyone were fighting in the direction of the place entrance but some of Duvall's remaining men saw me getting freed and start to focus on me instead of the fight at the entrance. I moved to get out of the podium and to cover behind of it as the first bullets came into my direction.

I couldn't risk to waste bullets as I just had a simple SMG with only one mag and for that, I had to pick my targets precisely. I started to shoot just after I got to cover, killing an guy that tried to rush me with an knife, taking 6 bullets in him. Two others were gone as they were out of their cover, taking each one 8 bullets as they were afar and the last one I shot at before the mag ran out of bullet.....I missed him close enough and now, I didn't have any bullet left.

This same guy was running to rush me like the first one did and to neutralize him, I decided to use the SMG I had like an hand-to-hand tool, holding it by the cannon. I start to get myself ready to strike as he arrived but then, as I was launching myself to do that, he prevented that to happen by kicking my arm with his feet before he arrived next to me and threw me away from my cover. When I looked at him, I realized that.....

"Park ?" I whispered, finding out that it was her and not the last guy who came to get me.

"Yiri ?" She looked at me, confused & worried, she didn't know that it was me behind that cover and then, she quickly moved to hug me "Yiri !" She said, relieved, her arms around me before I could feel my chest in pain.

"Ouch..." I breathed, feeling herself against my wound.

"Oh shit, I'm sorry." She removed herself to help me getting up "You're hurt ?" She asked, fully standing up on my feets, I nodded.

"That bastard make me a mark on my chest." I replied, showing her the part of the chest where the blood was still going out but less than before. "Apart of that, my right arm is also hurting me." I added as she didn't almost go easy on my arm when she striked me.

"Fuck...." She said, putting her hand next to the wound, worried about it.

"It's okay, not deep enough & no much blood off it." I exclaimed trying to reassure her as she was nearly going into panic. "Thanks....thanks for the save, how did you know I was there ?" I asked, wondering how they were fast enought to get me back.

"Before your radio goes off, the people that took you inadvertently gave away the location they were going to bring you." She replied, getting next to me as we decided to slowly walk back in front of podium. "Sims decided to bring Alvarez to another CIA safehouse while me & Wolf.....we called for reinforcements before coming in here." She added as I could see a little group of soldiers, checking the dead bodies on the ground as another one was guarding the few remaining Duvall's men.

"Who are these guys ?" I looked at those dead bodies, all wearing white hoods now bloodied.

"These douchebags...." It was Wolf arriving to get to us, his sniper rifle in hand, having heard my question. "They were an part of the fucking Ku Klux Klan." He then looked at Duvall's body on the podium "And that prick were the leader of them in the New Orleans."

"White supremacists dickheads that want to 'keep America white'" Park continued, looking at me, knowing more about the subject.

"Duvall was going to march on Washington with the guns Perseus gave him." I explained what Duvall told me about his plans while I was tied up. "Taunted me about his plans all along and his little politics view." I added before I was rethinking of something. "Does anyone of you know a 'Stitch' ?"

"'Stitch' ?" Park repeated, trying to find something in her head. "Heard the name from Adler sometimes, hard to know more with him."

"Why ?"

"Well, each time 'Stitch' is mentioned, Adler is kinda acting strange and not himself." She responded as I looked at her with wide eyes.

"Adler acting strange & not himself is normal for me." I scoffed, making her roll her eyes around.

"To say that we got Derazio, Alvarez & Duvall in one single day...." Wolf nodded as he couldn't believe it himself before I groaned silently from the pain. "You're wounded ?" I nodded to him. "It's better that Park got you back at the safehouse, gonna stay here for a little with the cleaning crew before coming back." He then approached me to give me a little tap on my right shoulder. "Good job, Yirina."

"You're coming, Yiri ?" Park asked in a low voice, rhetorically to me and then I followed, avoiding the bodies on the ground.

Thanksfully, I was still able to walk perfectly even now with that wound on my chest, Duvall did get the knife deep enough to make it more visible, I wasn't bleeding from it anymore but it would be better that we got it treated before it can get infected. Park led me to the same car we have used for days and I installed myself on the front seat with her before we drove off the place. Finally, I could breathed normally after getting out of this place that was very deep inside the Bayou.

This situation....having my ass get saved.....it wasn't my first time, I could remember East-Berlin well enough : seeing Park, Lazar & Adler rappel down to enter that warehouse and now Park, Wolf and some CIA guys arrived to save the day....my day. Park....was really my guardian angel and I think I was hers too. We saved each other a countless times and I was happy that she reacted quickly with the others, she can't blame herself for that.

After minutes of driving, we finally arrived at the safehouse but there were something very wrong about the place now : Sims was waiting for us on the porch and the house was looking damaged now, the front windows were broken.....something has happened here. We got out of the car, very curious as Sims started to join us.

"I think we have a big problem !" He started, looking at the house behind him.

"What kind of problem ?" Park asked but she didn't have any responses from him, just him gesturing to us to follow him inside. When we entered, we could see that someone came here when we were all gone, the place were all trashed and when we arrived in the operations room, we understand the 'big problem' "You got to be shitting me !" She exclaimed, seeing the dashboard that has been tagged red with the Perseus emblem.

"Fuck, Perseus was here." I whispered, looking around me to see the room turned over. "How long you arrived back here ?"

"10 minutes after I brought Alvarez to another hideout." Sims replied, moving to redress the table back to normal. "Fuckers trashed the place down but they didn't take anything." He added before he looked at the table where the radio was on, completely broken.  "They had time in 2 hours after we left the place to save Alvarez."

"And the first floor ?" Park questioned him and he shook his head.

"What was interesting them was more damaging everything in the ground level." He got next to the dashboard, looking at it with desesperation. "Even if we got Duvall, Perseus is still acting and he knows where we were hiding in the state."

"Perseus has something that will happen soon in the US." I said, sitting down on the only couch that was available. "We got news from Adler ?" I asked.

"Called me before I got here, they were soon arrived in West-Berlin after getting rid of the general." He replied, walking next to the room's door. "I'm going to clean up the place before Wolf come back here, I see that you're wounded and I guess Park will patch you." He did a silent laugh before he walk out of the room, soon followed by Park that were getting the meds for me.

Now, I was alone in the trashed operations that we used for days, seeing that Perseus insignia on the dashboard was making me sick inside of me.....How I could have stayed with Perseus for so long instead of fleeing away to save my friends ?.....Why ?....I could see that there were something missing on the dashboard : Sonya's picture....gone. If they didn't take anything important, why this particular picture was stolen ? Did they came here or someone else close to her did ?

It took less than a minute for Park to come back with everything necessary to heal that wound on my chest. To be honest, I didn't feel any pain while Park was patching me up with dressings and also disinfecting the wound, only making very silent groans from my mouth. Duvall could have killed me but he was more willing to follow his politics than Perseus's one.

"How you're feeling ?" Park asked after she has finished her business with me.

"Pretty good." I replied, getting my shirt back to normal before I looked back at her. "You really had fairy fingers." I added in a lovely tone to her, making her blush.

"You told me that after that night." She scoffed, making me blush in return....refering to our passionate night here. "Did I tell you that you got also them ?"

"No but thanks you." I smiled at her before we both joined hands together "Thanks you for everything, Park."

"You know that I will always have your back." She affirmed, making me smile further and frankly, we were soon forgetting what happened here before I realized the situation,

"Damn, I really liked this place." I looked around the room, sniffing at seeing it at this state. "Far better than West-Berlin."

"Yes..." She breathed, doing the same as me "Shame we have to go back there." She added before she got something behind her back. "Something from you." She was handing to me, my own M1911 that I thought to have lost at that abandoned lighthouse when the Ku Klux Klan got me.

"How ?" I asked, confused to see it again.

"One of Duvall's men took it with him and when I neutralized that guy, I took it back to give it to you." She responded as I took the gun back with me. By seeing it back, I was impressed by her. That gun.....I used it since a long time and it's like my favourite one.

"Wow, I can say...." I was speechless by Park's actions for me "Thanks you 3000." I finally finished my sentence, looking at Park with a great look that could told 'I love you 3000'.

"Well, I can see that Park make a great job." Sims came back in the room, looking at me with good eyes. "Guess the two make quite a couple."  He admitted and we looked each other, me & Park and we smiled.

"Thank you, Sims." We literally said at the same time before we start to hear the ringing of a satellite phone in the room located right to the broken radio.

"Must be Adler, told he would call back when he will arrived in the safehouse." Sims moved to get to the phone pretty quick and he pick it up. "Hey doc, you will never....." He was going to continue until he froze himself in place to look at us. "Wait, you too ?" At this moment, we could realize that the situation was somehow getting worse. "You got to be kidding me right ?" He asked, before he moved to get next to one of my notebooks, a free one. "Okay, tell me when we join you...." He start to write down something as me & Park was wondering what got into him. "Okay, I'll tell them." He then hang up the phone.

"There's a problem ?" I got up from my seat before he looked back at me.

"The safehouse in West-Berlin has also been raided by Perseus : Adler and his team just found it trashed down too with the surveillance crew dead all over the place." He responded, trying to keep his cool and us, we were shocked to hear that : here and now, West-Berlin. "Our trip in the US is gonna last more longer."

"Why that ?" Park demanded

"An Perseus agent left an intel pointing to an mall in New Jersey." He first replied, getting his hands on the table. "We will have to join Adler to an US Army base near the place." He breathed, looking down in desesperation.

"And do we have a name ?" I asked, extremely curious before Sims raised slowly his head towards me, not sure of saying it even if he got the answer to it.....

"Vikhor 'Stitch' Kuzmin !"

[empathdespoina]

Social effect of unhealthy minds hurting others...

This isn’t a post in regards to being an Empath. But it does affect Empaths, because this is happening close to their home...their families, community and towns bordering your own; besides state you live in.

I was reflecting and realized that Donald Trump (I know, I know you don’t want to hear about him, but hear me out, it has a ripple effect) grew up abused by his father and mother and child abuse is something that should seriously be address; due to the mental health issues that stem from this and it’s a cycle that gets put onto the next young innocent victim, or a victim not blood related. Seeing how Trump still refuses to acknowledge that he lost, due to his psychological mindset that he’s still trying to please his father...that’s a very unsettling mindset; especially that his father died so long ago...I honestly don’t know.

So here is a man that’s in charge of a nation, that’s mentally unstable and this is causing others who have been abused as a child and NEVER got psychological help...are ever so lovely continued the sick cycle. I say this because my mother was abused by her mother as a child - it was verbal, emotional and psychological; plus my mother’s older sister (my aunt) was abused and then her sister turned it onto my mom. This has caused my mom to follow in these foot steps. Yet my mother and aunt don’t see anything wrong with the way they treat me and sadly my brother has learned to treat me very similar; but in a worst way...due to him bringing his NYPD job home and blowing up on me for no reason, and I feel he’s not to far away to unleash his physical anger on me. I have suggested to my mother on several times to go to therapy and her response is always... I’m okay there’s nothing wrong with me. As of recently my mom wants very little to do with her sister, on the way her sister treats her. I am my mother’s and brother’s emotional punching bag of dumping their bad days on me...all because I do something small that a healthy minded person would be upset; yet for these two, flip off at me as if I did something so damn horrible as if killed a wild animal in the house and destroyed the house in the process.

Now seeing how my family is...my mom likes Trump and is very pissed that he lost; due to her being very negative towards me, anytime there’s a reference around our new leaders for the nation. And the negativity outburst is nothing more than childish, but her being an adult and the years of how she destroyed my mental health on causing me to have very high stress anxiety; that if I do something similar to what would have upset her in the past...I start freaking out, in an unsettling reaction. Reason why? Because spilling a drink on the floor isn’t a big deal for healthy minded people. Yet for my mother it was the straw that broke the camel’s back and completely lost it with me. My father tried his best to protect me when he was alive; yet reflecting on the past and understanding my mother’s past; he was most likely abused along the same line like me, due to his last famous words to my mother, as he died from cancer: “You did this to me and put me here!” Which I believe was him lashing out on the abuse she did to him and it was always a passive aggressive to then shouting and bringing up every damn past mistake and making you feel worthless and that you’re nothing more then an embarrassment to her. Since she’s always concern of how others perceive her, due to the fact she never was popular in high school and that mindset still hasn’t been let go...seeing how she was ecstatic when my brother was the popular kid back in the day, in school and she could hang out with the popular moms. -face palms herself-

Having a mentally sick man as our president who won’t admit to losing or that he’s fucked up because yeah he was abused as a child...since around that time, it was considered ACCEPTABLE. Now you’re getting all these other people who were abused as a child and mentally sick to be encourage to let all this out, let all the abuse out and to hurt others. To attack people out of nowhere to let racism fly. But for some people at home, to deal with those we know, are getting worst than they were before...all because they admire this man like a Korean Idol or a Kardashian. The most dangerous ones are who are less educated; then following under that is people (more now my mother’s age group compared to my age group...to an extent on my age group), who are getting addicted to FB - which has always used ads and fake news to convince people of what the democrats are doing and to believe everything the republicans are saying...when what they are saying, is very dangerous school of thought; for these people to become nothing more than sheep that can rage and hurt others without a care; since Trump has been doing that in the public eye and social media.

Trump doesn’t want to hear the truth and those who don’t agree with him and make it known on news channels...where he takes comfort in social media; which he can easily bend those to his thought process and believe in it. I shit you not my mother believes in this thought process; which I believe is from FB. She’s now on FB more often and her friend who is too (the one that’s got chemical brain and talks to her daily)...that the three red strips in Biden’s campaign design is related to China...because some asshole who wanted to stir things up and cause chaos; when Biden was mimicking Obama’s campaign design. I couldn’t tell my mother other wise due to her hard belief in this...and this was a woman, who years ago when my father died- she did massive research on the pesticides that cause my dad’s cancer, which lead to his death. And she would always look into things. Yet due to her being chair bound as her ankle heals...she’s been on social media more and more; which I am not addict to social media like I was to an extent 10yrs ago. She believes in the republicans on what the democrats are going to do, on making our American country into one of socialism and the socialism very that is being inferred is the one in which we have no rights. Then there was another time this reference was brought up- note by my mothers and believing that by destroying all the stores, would cause this country to quickly turn into a socialism nation. I told her we have three branches of government and it isn’t going to change, due to how the three branches of government works. She replies go ahead and believe that it will stay the same, once Biden is in office.

This is what I mean about a ripple effect of these dangerous school of thoughts and to be violent to others and keep the cycle of abuse going. My mother is a woman who could think for herself...yet these past four years under Trump it’s more of the social media fake news to scare people in buying guns...in order to “protect” themselves from an uprising of the minorities; who will come and attack our home and to protect ourselves... I am not making this up - this actually came out of my mother’s mouth when I question my mothers on why my brother had three guns and a SNIPER RIFFLE. And the other push for buying guns that Democrats would ban guns-  this causing my brother to buy so much damn ammo for his “guns” that he can be his own militia army...where these people are too stupid to realize the rights to have guns is within our 10 Amendments. It is as if no one remembers our Amendments and how our three branches of government works any more of history.

And if I have to show you dangerous school of thought to cause chaos look to the dr who lost his medical license due to things that endanger a patient, because he was putting his believes onto this woman...instead of the best care to help her. He went on social media on video saying the 5G towers were “causing the COVID” and he would go on and on about it...where he’s clearly not right in the head...but of course you have mental sick idiots who will believe someone that “appears” smarter than them. And what did they do...they went around in Europe and destroying those 5G towers.

Trump’s legacy should be of a different social experiment (which they refereed to the prohibition), on how a man could use social media to bend people to his unhealthy thought process and make others stupid to believe in everything he says. Look how some republicans are believing the election is a fraud still, due to Trump losing, and this is a man who’s always got his way and his energy aura has to be very intimating for no one to say “NO” to him. For an other average person to pull the same shit off as Trump; would be arrested in a heartbeat, yet they are afraid of this man. Which I believe, when it comes time for him to leave office and we know he won’t go peacefully; to get a trank-gun and shoot him with it; then put a straight jacket on him and haul him away to a really heavily secured mental ward. Trump has caused healthy minded people to do things, that were not seen under Obama and Bush’s time in office. I only pick them, due to the fact I was more aware of how the president worked and being able to vote. Trump is a mental disease in his own way and to see others catch this and treat those around them...like Trump treats others, as if they are beneath his feet. I don’t know how much more rage outbursts that I’m going to have to deal with, in regards to my mother as this year ends and Biden will soon be in office. Plus keep in mind, I am the only one of her two children home (due to can’t find a job) to help her out and drive her around and she treats me like this...also I wasn’t the one who left something in my mother’s path of walking for her to fall and hurt herself, it was my brother. Yet he’s not helping out as much more, due to him being happy that his back working Narcotics unit; since he was desked for awhile due to he, himself breaking his leg and ankle of the right side a year ago from mom hurting herself.

I am really concern seeing what this nation has become and seeing how my mother and brother are on board with the words coming out of Trump’s mouth; especially my mom’s friend. I guess I felt compelled to write out my fear on seeing this...awhile ago, I read two articles that psychoanalyzed Trump by some professional therapist, as they watched and observed him on tv and looked into his history, on the life he had growing up. I honestly don’t know how long it will take to make society more...I honestly can’t find the right word....less violent and more willing to hurt others in a sick twisted obsession...? Yet that still happens in this world...maybe I’m looking for is......less negative fuel to fuel the monsters that are wearing masks and are two face to people...pretending by day to be a respectable person of society and when not watched by those people...take the mask off and reveal the monster underneath willing to hurt others; as they see Trump has done, and what he’s encourage to happen in this country.

So if you have family members, friends or co-workers/bosses who have similar thought process like my family... try your best to endure it and make sure you have something you can discreetly touch to ground you... or go for more pee breaks and just say you’re body’s off...if you get questioned.