Stephen Mader, a former police officer in Weirton, West Virginia, is suing the city and local police department for firing him after he didn’t shoot a black man trying to commit suicide by cop.
In May 2016, Mader encountered Ronald Williams, a distressed African-American man whose girlfriend had called police to their Weirton home after Williams reportedly threatened to harm himself.
Williams was holding an unloaded gun and pleaded with Mader to “just shoot me,” according to the former officer’s lawsuit.
Mader, a veteran of the War in Afghanistan, said he relied on his training in the military, and attempted to de-escalate the situation and prevent any loss of life. But when two of Mader’s fellow officers joined him on the scene, one of them fatally shot Williams in the head.
The use of lethal force rattled the community, in light of the facts that Williams had apparently been experiencing a mental health crisis and that Mader, a white officer, had attempted to save the black man’s life. Mader was fired following the incident.
Mader’s lawsuit, filed in a U.S. District Court in West Virginia, alleges that the city violated his rights against unjust termination, his First and Fourteenth Amendment rights under the U.S. Constitution and other rights under the Constitution of the State of West Virginia. Read more (5/10/17)
things I want from Critical Role’s incipient God Arc:
the gang to discover that Sarenrae and Kord have the exact same relationship, albeit different backstory, as Pike and Grog. Like, when she punched that dragon, he was back behind the Divine Gate proudly shouting, “YEAH! MONSTAH!”
Percy to literally unload a gun into Pelor’s face, preferably while crying
Pelor to make dad jokes and thank Keyleth for looking out for his tree
Keyleth to literally threaten the Raven Queen over Vax’s fate
Vax to die at the end, tbh, but it’s okay, he lives with the Raven Queen and is her assistant psychopomp now, and can return to the Material Plane to visit his family every Winter’s Crest (arising from a pool of blood in one of the RQ’s temples)
somewhere beyond the Divine Gate, they see, but don’t interact with, a cloaked god with a blindfold over his eyes and a book in one hand
Over the millions of times Joker has died Harley’s never gotten to do it. Give me Harley kills Joker. Her laughing with him like she’s going to fall right back into his arms, then she just fires one shot into his skull. Then it’s just her laughing. And she doesn’t stop laughing. Then she fires over and over and over again just unloading her gun into him until he’s nothing but mashed bits and she’s firing with nothing inside. And then her laughing turns into crying and she drops the gun. Then she grabs her hammer and just whales on him. Making him part of the dirt until Ivy comes over and just holds her, makes her stop and calms her down.
I was watching Mr. and Mrs. Smith earlier today and I was like “Haha isn’t that Bucky and Steve WAITAMINUTE. I can make this stuckony.”
So there’s Steve, who works for SHIELD. There’s Bucky, who works for the CIA. And then there’s Tony, who’s a contractor for the government but still CEO of Stark Industries. (Honestly when will he not be. I am a creature of habit.) The CIA and SHIELD discover that they’re all together, and decide well, that’s not good, they could share secrets. So let’s make them kill each other!
(Let’s assume there’s still HYDRA in SHIELD for this because I don’t believe Fury or Coulson permitted this.)
And for added pain (and to keep Tony under their thumb) they go to Tony and say “hypothetically if we each had an agent married to each other how would you fix this?” And Tony laughs and says “I don’t know, kill them both?” (He thinks it very clear that this is a joke because he is a contractor and his opinions on weaponry and defense are the only things that matter.)
Well, lo and behold, suddenly Steve and Bucky are sent to take each other out and they are shocked (and hurt!) to find out all the lies. Steve isn’t an art teacher. Bucky’s not a history professor. “Do you even love Tony, or was that a lie, too?!” they snarl at each other, and get into a huge fist fight in the penthouse, destroying everything.
And then Tony gets home early and finds Bucky has a knife to Steve’s throat, and Steve has a gun pressed to Bucky’s gut, and his home is a mess. “…Why?” he asks tiredly. “Oh my God I just had a hellish day of meetings and now this. Did one of you eat the last of the other’s ice-cream?”
“…I don’t even like rum raisin,” Steve says, and Bucky turns and just yells in his face in anger.
(Tony has no idea what’s going on and he is suddenly Frightened because he’s never seen them like this. Against literally anyone else’s better judgement, he walks up to them and just takes the weapons from their hands. And Steve and Bucky let him, because he is their precious civilian husband, and also threatening each other has gotten awkward now that they have an audience who is clearly not impressed.)
Of course, Tony clearing the chamber and unloading the gun expertly is the hottest thing ever and Steve and Bucky can at least agree on that. After some loud (and honestly kinda violent) life-affirming sex (for Bucky and Steve anyway), Tony makes them spill what’s happening. Tony, incensed, does some discrete hacking and realizes in horror that if anything gets out about it, the CIA and SHIELD are going to throw it back on him, even though it was clearly a fucking joke.
Now, Steve and Bucky are kind of pissed at each other for all the lies, but Tony has told them the truth from the get-go (”You’re not teachers?” Tony asks, betrayed, and they start to feel bad but then– “So the hot-for-teacher role play did nothing for you?” The noises they make are terrible but Tony is so earnestly afraid that they were just putting up with it that they rush to assure him that the role plays were definitely enjoyed on their ends. Sorry. I had to get some more humor in here.)
But now the forty-eight hours Steve and Bucky were given to kill each other are up and Natasha, Steve’s coworker (”I thought she was your PE teacher coworker!” Tony wails.) calls and tells him that SHIELD is about to head out and finish the job for him. Bucky gets a call from Clint (”He’s not just a homeless guy you help out?!” “I never said he was homeless, Tony, you just assumed he was because he’s a slob.”) saying the same thing, and also they’re going to consider Tony collateral damage. Steve and Bucky are furious, because Tony is innocent. “NOT THAT WAY!” they both shout when Tony opens his mouth to make a smart remark about his ‘innocence.’
Cue the car chase in one of Tony’s suped up cars. (”My baby,” he whimpers every time the car is dented and shot at.) At one point his driving gets so… creative, that Steve is almost thrown from the car and the only thing keeping him from being thrown was Bucky’s hand wrapped his wrist. For a terrifying few seconds, he was in midair. (But hey it caused one of their pursuers to flip so no harm no foul.) Bucky’s prepared to tease him mercilessly but then Tony blurts out, “Oh, wait, does being married before count as a secret?” And Steve and Bucky nearly foam at the mouth because whowhyhow?! “It was a Vegas wedding and we got it annulled when we were sober.” “What’s her name?” Steve hisses. “And her social security number?” Bucky adds. “First of all I can’t even remember my own social, and second you’re not going to kill her because it was Pepper and we were celebrating the great reception of the first StarkPhone.” The idea of trying to kill Pepper is daunting so they settle for grumbling mulishly to each other about it.
I’m not sure what happens next. Maybe they expose all the HYDRA agents in SHIELD, or Fury and Coulson finally catch wind of what’s going on and put a stop to it (but not before a huge shootout because I’m a sucker for those.) All I know is that I want them to end up at a meeting with the marriage counselor and Tony’s complaining about how Steve and Bucky don’t know how to communicate with each other. “Yeah, I really wanted to kill him recently,” Steve jokes. “But I just couldn’t pull the trigger.” “Ha. Haha,” Bucky says. “And I just couldn’t sink the knife into his chest.”
The marriage counselor (probably Bruce tbh the poor guy) says “But hey, you couldn’t do it. That’s good. What about you, Tony?”
“I communicate perfectly!” Tony sputters indignantly.
“Honestly he may communicate too well,” Steve and Bucky admit.
The marriage counselor just makes some interested noises because he isn’t sure what to say. (They eventually work things out though.)
Sat at the table, lent back in your chair with your arms
folded across your chest you pondered over the countless articles and documents
Castiel had placed on the board. Uncle Dean stood in front of them, running a
hand over his chin, while you scrolled through Google looking for more clues.
Your Dad walked in, surprised to see you awake. But, he
didn’t question it and sat down next to you. “Sleep okay?” He asked, nudging
You nodded, adding a quiet “Yeah.”
“Got anything?” Your Dad asked, reluctantly tearing his
attention away from you.
“Nope, I just don’t get how a chick can disappear…?”
“I think that’s what Cas was trying to find out.” Your Dad chuckled, subtly
peering over your shoulder to read what was on your screen.
“Oh uh, Mom called.” Uncle Dean turned so his back was facing Cas’ research and
sat down opposite the pair of you. “Said there was a Shifter case and she’d
“got it” apparently”. He waved speech marks with his fingers as he spoke.
“Well, if she’s got it chances are she’s got it. Mom’s good you know.”
“She got back into it kinda quick don’t you think?” Uncle Dean sighed. You
considered saying something witty, but decided against it and continued to
watch them bicker.
“You still pissed about Cas?” Your Dad wondered, regretting
the words as he spoke.
“Yeah okay, because when I hear cosmic consequences my first
thought isn’t exactly rainbows. I’m just wondering if he did the right thing.”
You looked up for the first time “He did.” Uncle Dean looked
a little taken back at your input.
“I did.” Castiel’s voice filled the room. “But more importantly, I’ve found
“Got a lead on Kelly?” Your Dad wondered, relaxing in his
“No. This is much more personal. Benjamin called out for
help last night-“
“Good old angel radio.” Uncle Dean scoffed, earning a glare from you.
“-He was begging for
help. I need to make sure he’s okay.” Cas finished, ignoring Uncle Dean’s
“Okay,” Your Dad rose from his chair “We’ll help.”
“All of you?” Castiel aimed his question at Uncle Dean despite his choice of
“Yep,” You spoke for everyone “All three of us. Whether we like it or not.” You
smiled sweetly at Uncle Dean, your expression full of satire.
The car journey was tense. Castiel sat in the back with you
and Uncle Dean didn’t put his usual rock music on through the speakers. If anything,
you were grateful to be able to listen to headphones without them on full
volume, however you only had one in as not to miss anything interesting in
conversation. Not that there was much of that going on at the time.
“Okay, can we please skip the silent treatment it’s getting
ridiculous!?” Dad sighed, looking back and forth between the pair of three year olds in the car. Both of which said nothing.
“We’re gonna need a plan, any information would be nice.”
“Benjamin was careful, this is strange for them to be in need.”
“I guess they wouldn’t make stupid
choices with cosmic consequences huh?”
Uncle Dean looked back and you’d just about had enough.
“ROAD.” You ordered, kicking the back of his chair.
He flinched, not having heard you shout before and cleared his throat, looking
back on the road. “Don’t kick my Baby.” He frowned.
“Then keep your eyes on the road, funnily enough dying isn’t on the calendar
for today.” You sassed.
Your Dad chuckled “I knew there was a reason I let you come.”
You sat in the car, unfortunately still too young to pass as
an FBI agent. Instead, you put in both headphones and waited, loading and
unloading your gun.
When they came back out Cas was ahead, your Dad and Uncle following on behind
You swallowed, moving up so Cas could get in your side. He did, nodding as a
small thank you but not speaking a word.
“What’s happening?” You asked, fed up of no one clarifying anything.
“I know of an Angel who can help, Ishim. I’m meeting him. Alone.”
When you arrived at the Diner the four of you got out in
“Ishim will be expecting me alone, you wait here.” Cas declared. You nodded,
but your Uncle and Dad weren’t having it. “Excuse me?” Uncle Dean raised his
eyebrows and tilted his head a little.
“He doesn’t have all that much tolerance for…humans.” Cas sighed. “I promised
I’d come alone.”
“Then go, we’ll wait.” You say, ignoring your Uncle’s offended gaze.
“What?” You shrugged at them when Cas walked in.
“You’re just gonna let him go in there alone?” Uncle Dean scoffed.
“We just need to be patient, if he needs us he’ll say something. We know he
will.” You assured him.
“Yeah,” Your Dad nodded “Y/N’s right. We can wait.”
“You can.” Uncle Dean took in a deep breath, preparing himself to move “I’m
Immediately, your Dad followed after his brother, only you
stayed behind, sticking by your idea that if Cas wanted you he’d say. You
sighed, watching the cars go by in the window. Reflections made everything seem
so much more surreal. Blurs of motion were interrupted when a woman with a dark
trench coat, high pony tail and proud stance walked out. She glanced at you
briefly, then looked at the Impala who you were leaning against. “Winchester?”
You nodded slowly before adding “Only half.”
“Hmm.” She hummed, as if trying to decipher you. Humans were
nothing but a complex code of shades of grey amongst black and white to Angels.
“You don’t look like much of a threat.” She declared before moving on.
Following after her, you caught up to her fast pace “What’s that supposed to
“Younger primates are less worrying. More impressionable.” She stated.
“Thank you…?” You frowned, your eyebrows knitting together.
You turned the corner with her, chuckling “Mirabel, is it?”
A voice sounded, instantly you turned on the spot and held out a gun.
A woman with red hair and a sort of eyepatch on her left
side dug a knife into the Angel’s chest. She lit up from inside like the start
of a fire before collapsing. Her vessel nothing but that.
You looked at her in shock, then back up to the mysterious
woman. “I have no interest in harming humans.” She held her hands out in front
of herself, a peace offering perhaps.
“Me neither. But believe me I will.” You snarled.
“Mirabel!” A man with scruff tracing his jawline, a dark
trench coat and a clear path in his mind raced towards the dead angel. He pushed
you out of the way, but you were too confused at the absence of the lady who
was just there to notice.
“What happened?” The man looked at you desperately. You opened your mouth to
speak only to be silenced by the lady: she was back. “Ishim, right?” She tilted
her head and held out a blade.
“Hey!” You shouted, trying to distract the woman. “Ishim” blocked and kicked
her to the floor, they began fighting, but neither seemed interested in you.
You concentrated on Castiel, and closed your eyes ‘Cas’ you managed, hoping it’d be enough
to get his attention. You couldn’t say much despite your abilities -not that you were keen to use them all that much- but talking to people in their
heads was much easier if they were an Angel or another like yourself.
You heard footsteps, turned on your heels and saw Cas
looking more worried than anything else. His blue eyes were surveying the
situation, holding their gaze on yours to make sure you were okay before joining
in the fight.
You stood back, not sure whether to draw a blade yourself or
hold out your gun. Although, something told you she wouldn’t be too phased by
“Y/N!” Your Dad called, running next to your side.
“Hey, you okay?” He bent down slightly to be eye level with you and put a hand
on your shoulder. You nodded blankly, watching the fight instead of his eyes.
He sighed and got out his handgun, aiming it at the woman. Uncle Dean did the
“It won’t kill her.” You mumbled, you weren’t sure why, but
you could just tell.
“What?” Your Uncle glanced at you briefly, not having heard you.
You realised if they put their guns down they’d probably join in the fight so
you shook your head, sighed “never mind” and got out your own gun, cocking it
and readying yourself to put your finger overt the trigger.
The woman held out her hand in front of herself, casting
some sort of light, it was as bright as a thousand suns and forced you all to
shield your eyes. Despite your tightly squeezed eyes and hands attempting to
cast a shadow you could still feel the burning heat and blinding light.
The moment it went you opened your eyes and lowered your hand, expecting her to
be stood victoriously. But she was driving away…she was running away.
You scowled at her before checking to see everyone was okay.
Thankfully, no one seemed too wounded except for the Ishim guy who was hunched
over, a deep wound on his side where the Angel blade had sliced his vessel through to him.
After staring up at the left over paintings in the Church you padded over to where your Dad and Uncle were sat opposite from Ishim. Cas was in the middle, looking between them nervously. You sat down next to Cas, offering a smile to which he returned gratefully.
You then waited for someone to say something. “Are the Winchester’s training up orphans now?” Ishim smirked, looking you up and down. “That’s my daughter your talking about so I suggest you shut up.” Dad snapped. Ishim squinted at you, trying to figure you out. “Interesting,” He spoke quietly, sitting up before adding more volume to his voice “Moving on, I believe we have much to discuss.” This was aimed directly at Cas.
“They stay,” Cas leaned forward “All of them.”
“Alright,” Ishim was offended but he didn’t show it “I just can’t believe that Lily’s still here.” The way he switched between tones of voice was unnerving.
“Wait, you know that lady?” Dad questioned curiously.
Cas and Ishim shared a look. “You’re sure about them all staying?” Ishim checked. “I’m sure.”
The three of you listened intently as Cas spoke about the past. A Nephilim had come into being and Castiel, Ishim and some other Angels were sent on a mission to “take care of things”. You didn’t like the choice of the word “Care.” There was no care in killing.
Ishim had gone alone after the Father Angel was dealt with. You didn’t trust that, however said nothing.
“So how come she’s still alive?” You asked, breaking the silence.
“A demonic pact I expect. She’s powerful, I know that much.” Ishim answered almost too easily. “Ishim, let me tend to your wound.” Cas stood up, his trench coat brushing against your knee slightly. “That won’t be necessary. We need to go and see Lily.”
“Me and Sam’ll go.” Uncle Dean decided. You frowned. “No, it’s too dangerous. Me and Ishim will go-” “Cas, man this chick doesn’t care about Humans. She’ll leave us alone, not you though.” Cas sighed “Alright.” You protested “If she doesn’t care about humans then why can’t I go?”
Uncle Dean narrowed his eyes at you “Don’t you think you’ve gotten into enough situations, kid” “Yeah but this way you guys can keep an eye on me or hold my hand if you get scared.” “Y/N…” Your Dad gave you a disapproving look. “So you’d rather leave me with an Angel we’ve just me in a vulnerable place with no signal?” You held your phone up with zero bars to prove a point. “Good choice.”
“Fine. But you stay behind us at all times and do as we say.” You smirked “Sure.”
“Who knows, we might even be able to talk her out of it.” Your Dad thought aloud. “No, she has her mind set.” Cas immediately dismissed the suggestion. “But-” “Her daughter was murdered. She wants revenge. She’s not going to listen to two strangers! Think about it, would you?”
Your Dad immediately looked at you, his eyes sad “I uh, “He cleared his throat “Guess not.”
“You’re sure this is the right address?” Uncle Dean asked, stepping out of the elevator. You waited for your Dad to do so also before following on. “Well I checked with-” “Yep.” You nodded, cutting your Dad off before he went on a rant. Uncle Dean chuckled “Thanks for saving me some brain cells, kid.” “You’re welcome.” You giggled.
“How did you find me?!” Lily’s face was full of fright but confidence if it came to a fight. “We don’t wanna hurt you.” Your Dad put his hands up, you and Uncle Dean copying after.
“I don’t wanna hurt you either.” She hesitated.
“Good, that’s good.” Dad looked at his brother for help.
“We wanted to say sorry about what happened to your family, it’s no one’s fault that heaven has these crazy rules on Nephilim-” “Nephilim?” lily echoed, her face scrunched up in confusion. “You think…?”
“My Daughter was human.”
Shocked, you looked between your Dad and Uncle, both looking as new to this information as you were. “Give us a minute.” Uncle Dean put an arm on his brothers and turned him around so the three of you were in some sort of huddle. “You buying any of this?” “Kinda.” You and your Dad nodded. Uncle Dean attempted to call Cas only no one picked up. “No signal remember.” You noted, glancing at Lily who appeared to be becoming more and more irritated. “She’s uh, well-” Uncle Dean was cut off by her.
“She has no interest in hurting any humans and she can hear you.” Lily folded her arms over her chest, her hip sticking out to the side slightly.
“Sorry, you’re right.” Your Dad nodded.
Uncle Dean decided to go back over to confront Ishim, whereas your Dad offered to stay with Lily. You had very little choice and stayed with your Dad.
Inside her room it was cold, but not freezing- bearable. Lily sat down on her bed, clutching a photo of her and her daughter. It was a daguerreotype, black and white with a sort of laminated finish to it. You didn’t have time to see the details as she held it close to herself, shutting out anyone else’s gazes.
You stood, waiting for someone to speak. “I get wanting revenge, I really do but uh…why wait so long?” Lily looked down “I had to. Before they lost their wings, Angels very rarely came down to Earth. There’s no way of going to them, you have to wait for them to come to you. But that’s okay, I learned to be patient. Patience is a talent.” “Yeah,” Your Dad looked at you “I’m beginning to notice that.”
Oblivious to your Dad’s gaze, you looked about the room with your eyes, stopping to take in the occasional book title or piece of equipment.
“What deal did you make to become so powerful?” You asked, looking her in the eye. “I paid the price,” She tapped her eyepatch “Every time I use Enochian magic a piece of my soul is destroyed. Eventually-” “You won’t care about anything, feel anything or need anyone. You’ll be alone without emotion.” Your Dad seemed to be able to finish off the sentence a little too easily. You thought back to that Hunter’s funeral where you reunited with Mary, you’d heard a few rumours that your Dad had lost his soul…could it be true?
“If your brother confronts Ishim, he will kill him.” Lily changed topic, wanting to turn the attention to something or someone else.You dropped your previous thought and frowned.
That caught both of your attentions.
“And then you’ll help me. For which I can wait.”
With your Dad in front of you and Lily taking the lead you made your way back to Cas and Ishim, determined to make sure Uncle Dean was okay. Dad glanced back at you worriedly. You didn’t notice and went straight over to Cas. Cas was hunched up, dried blood creating a frozen river along his face. “Cas, hey look at me. You okay?” You asked softly, gingerly putting a hand on his face. He was cold and lacking his Angel side.
“Y/N, I need your blade.” He demanded, holding out his hand and reaching towards where your other hand was clutching the Angel blade. “No Cas, they’re handling it. You’re not strong enough.” If anything that seemed to encourage him as he rose from his position, leaning slightly on you to lever himself up. “The blade.” He breathed. You held it away from him “It’s not safe, I’ll take care of him.” You found yourself using that phrase you hated so much, cringing when you finished the sentence. “I’ll kill him.” You added, convincing yourself you were going through with it.
“No. It’s my faul. I need to be the one to do this,” He looked at you with desperate eyes “Please, Y/N.”
You swallowed, looking over your shoulder to see Ishim still up and fighting- not showing signs of stopping, either. Sighing, you held out the knife, the handle facing where he could grasp it. He did so without hesitation. “Thank you.” He nodded.
You watched as the Soldier marched towards his enemy. The blade stabbed through Ishim’s chest, burning his Grace and destroying him. Silence took over, Cas collapsed to the floor, his breaths heavy, and he looked up at lily.
Your eyes watched in amazement as ashen scorch marks spread from the corpse like veins. They eventually stopped to form Angel wings either side of him. Clear indents and feathers were nothing but burnt marks on the cold floor. It was sad, but also beautiful. Perhaps this one got his wings after all.
“Food!” Your Uncle’s voice managed to sound loud even when you had headphones in. “Okay!” You called back, happy to finally be eating. You took out your headphones, putting them on your bedside table, before heading towards the kitchen.
Inches away from the entrance and you could already tell something was off. Their voices were more hushed and tension was thick in the air. You took in a deep breath, forcing yourself to keep going. Entering the kitchen just reinforced your suspicions. Instead of next to an empty seat, your Dad had sided with Uncle Dean, leaving you to have a seat opposite. Uncle Dean pushed your plate forward to insist that was where you sat. He offered you a smile none the less. “Eat up, kid.” He chuckled,but it wasn’t his usual cheeky tone. It was more forced.
It was burger and chips, ketchup on the side. You sat down, looking at them and back down to your food. They obviously had a lot of questions to ask you, since that wretched Mr K decided it would be fine to bring up Max. Those damn voice mails didn’t help your case either. But at least no one else knew about them…yet.
You sighed “I guess this is about what Mr K said…” “Y/N, sweetheart, we’re worried about you. I understand that you don’t know us well enough to recite your life story, but you do trust us…dont you?” Your Dad asked, leaning forward. You nodded. He sighed.
Uncle Dean interrogated, eating a chip: “So who’s this Max, huh? The hell is he-” “She.” You snapped. “Dean,” Your Dad shot his brother an angry look “Whoever she is, I just want you to know that you can tell me…us.” He frowned at Uncle Dean at his correction of “Us”. “I know.” You looked at your food, picking at the chips.
“Would you be okay to tell us? To tell us anything? We’re not asking you to be mean, we’re really worried for you. I just want you to be okay.”
You took in a deep breath, running your hands through your hair and squeezing your eyes shut in a desperate attempt to stop yourself from crying. “Okay…” You started, your voice quivering. Both of them slowly looked at you, waiting patiently for you to say something else. “I guess I just thought you knew already…but no one mentioned her when I first met you…So I guess Mum didn’t tell you about her.” “Who…Max?” Your Dad tilted his head questioningly. You nodded. “Who was she?” He encouraged you to keep going, trying not to let his curiosity take over.
Your breath hitched in your throat and you looked him in the eye, another tear escaped, but this time you didn’t bother to wipe it away.
With Mafia Yurio I just imagined like him stealing Otabek's gun, stuffing it in his underwear, then telling Otabek that if he wants gun back… he's gonna have to get it himself.
So, with Mafia AU, Yuri kind of has a problem with taking either Beka or someone else’s gun and and trying to keep it for himself. Grandpa Plisetsky doesn’t want him having a gun of his own – he’s taught Yuri to shoot, and Yuri is good at it, but everyone knows after that incident that Yuri is a little trigger happy and none of them really want him having a gun of his own, yet. Otabek’s paid to hold and use the guns, after all.
Yuri hates this. He hates feeling like people all look down on him, or feel like he’s not capable, and just a little mafia princess. More than anything, Yuri wants to make his grandfather proud and show him that he can do this, he can be the heir that he always wanted.
The solution is easy for Yuri, though - he sneaks guns to practice with, or to keep for himself, convinced that he needs one of his own. Otabek doesn’t always need to protect him. He hides them in his room under his pillows or in his drawers, buried under furs and silk where he thinks no one will look.
Otabek finds them though, eventually. It’s hard to hide the cold metal he feels under Yuri’s pillow when his hand slides up to grab a fistful of that silky blond hair as they’re kissing. It makes Otabek stop dead, pulling back to yank the gun out from under the pillow - Yuri scowling up at him, already on the defensive with lips swollen and red from their rough kiss and his robe falling open. Beka’s calm, though, he’s always calm, and he quietly unloads the gun without a word, turning it about in his hands as he sighs down at Yuri, running a hand up his chest before tugging on his hair as Yuri mewls, asking quietly what do you need this for, kitten?
And Yuri’s all silence, biting his lips and huffing, peeking up at Beka from under thick lashes as shame burns his cheeks seeing how hurt Otabek looks. It isn’t what he wanted at all, stealing that gun. All he wanted to do was take care of things himself. He just wanted to take care of Beka for a change.
So Wil, I know you and Dark have known each other for a long time. Did you ever consider him a friend? Does it ever get to you knowing that things will never be like they once were? (That sounds really depressing but I was just kinda curious on how you were feeling)
Wilford tugs at his pink hair a bit, thinking back to the past. “Dark wasn’t always like he is now. He used to be… well, he used to be a lot less Dark. He was just trying to keep us all alive, even if he was a little cold about it sometimes.” Wilford pulls out his gun and starts unloading the bullets only to reload them. “Everything changed after ‘A Date with Markiplier’…” Wilford fires the gun and the wall behind you, not in a threatening way, but just to blow off some steam.
“I did consider him a friend, but not anymore.” He smiles at you sadly and shrugs his shoulders. “Yeah, sometimes it does make me a little sad that Dark will never be the same as he once was. But what are you going to do? It’s not easy being an Ego.”
I love you, but you don’t. And because one sided love can only mend one heart and not two, I will move on and let go. I’ve unloaded my guns and let down my weapons. The weapons of love. What’s left to do is bid my happiness goodbye and savour your scent one last time. Then I’ll leave against my ardent will, for my will cannot triumph long against the cruel whims of fate. The power of unrequited love manifests itself best in silence, amidst the eternal longing for something extraordinary that’s unattainable.
Yet even though the quill is in life’s hands, it will not annihilate the love I have for you. Nor will it erase or taint the place you have in my heart. Yes, time might plaster these wounds, but he won’t stitch them or wash away their gore, he won’t blemish the freckles of your chin or the debonairness you once wore. Things will change but you’ll remain the same, forever sparkling in my eyes, my dreams, my nostalgia, my insanity - an ardent fire that not even the most tropical of forests could burn out.
Though when I whispered goodbye, Love wouldn’t leave, she stayed. Albeit it was too late.
He was gone…
Summary:Out of Bad Comes Good. As a hitman, you have seen and committed various crimes. Assignments have always been easy for you, but when you get to know one of your targets, things suddenly become more difficult. What happens when that target finds out your true identity?
Warnings: probably cursing idk. death, trauma, mentions of rape/cheating/drugs.
Word Count: 2k+
A/N: If this gets good feedback, I’ll continue it. Let me know what you think!
You slow your breathing in attempts to focus on the task at
hand. The sniper in your grip feels heavy as you peer through its scope. Your
finger finds its place over the trigger for the hundredth time this morning and
you can hear your pulse. The man turns, his face perfectly aligning with the
center of your scope. With a simple flick of your finger, you could end this.
But for some reason, you cant.
You remove your finger from the trigger and click the safety
on but continue to watch him through the scope. He casually strides down the
vacant street. He was gorgeous to say the least; long hair tucked into a bun,
chiseled jaw line, broad muscular shoulders. Appearance never stopped you
So why can’t you end his life?
You cringe as you watch him stop to pet a tabby cat who
seems more than pleased to have such attention. The animal rubs against his
legs and he grins, stroking his neck in adoration. Why would anyone want this
man dead? He seems perfectly kind. He rounds the corner and you lose sight of
You unload the gun in your hands before placing it at your
feet. The wind picks up causing you to shrink into your hoodie. You eyeball the
nearly empty streets of New York City and can’t help but feel slightly serene.
No wonder that man was out. This is the only time in which the ‘city that never
sleeps’ is actually submerged in slumber.
A slight buzzing in your pocket causes you to jump. You roll
your eyes at your reaction before answering the call.
“Is it done?” the gravelly voice at the other end causes
your skin to fill with goose bumps. “He wasn’t there.” You lie through your
teeth. “What do you mean he wasn’t there?” The voice all but shouts into the
phone. You pull it from your face, glaring at it as if the man on the other end
could see you.
“I mean you either gave me incorrect information, or this
man decided to switch up his morning routine. I’ll find another date in the
next week when I’m free.” You mutter out, already fed up with this
“No, you’ll do it tomorrow morning, same time, same place.”
He hisses at you and it takes everything in you not to lash out.
“Who the fuck do you
think you are?” you seethe, “I have a schedule. I have other clients. You’re
not the only one paying me, and quite frankly, you’re not my highest bidder so
therefore, I work on my own time. You want the job done on your own schedule?
Do it yourself. Otherwise, I’ll let you know when I have time.” And with that
you hung up the phone and tucked it into your backpack.
The events of your morning absolutely exhausted you. You
slowly meander back to your small apartment. It wasn’t lavish but it was nice
to say the least. It was one bedroom, one bathroom, with a living space, a
dining space, and a kitchen. It was the one thing you were absolutely proud of.
You shuffle to your walk in closet and enter the combination
to the large safe hidden behind an array of clothes. You place your gun on its
stand, and remove your knife belt, just shoving it in its designated
compartment. You were covered in different weapons and it felt absolutely
incredible to remove all the extra weight.
After slipping into comfier clothes, you plop yourself
backwards onto your king sized bed. You reach for the laptop on your bedside
table and decide to do more research on your most recent target. James Buchanan Barnes.
He was the perfect target. Previously known as The Winter
Soldier, you were familiar with the long list of awful things he’d done. He was
iconic. Practically a God of the Criminals. Between torture, theft, and murder,
he’d done just about everything that you would usually target.
As a hitman, you were around a lot of death and a lot of
destruction, but it never really bothered you. You never killed an innocent
human being. Whenever anyone requested you take someone out, you did a very in
depth background check on them. So in depth that you learned about little
things: who they’ve had affairs with, their childhood fish, how often they
visited bars, secret negotiations with artillery companies, etc.
You would only agree to someone’s request if you learned the
target had a bad history. If they were involved in any sort of murder,
government corruption, rape, things such as that. So agreeing to the
extermination of Bucky Barnes wasn’t difficult for you, given his history with
The amount of information on this man hurt your head. You
suppose a lot can happen in 100 years.
However, when looking at his actions while apart from Hydra,
you have zero reason to try and kill him. He’s been working alongside the
Avengers. This man was very contradictory in all of his recent endeavors. You
shut your laptop in frustration and decide to sleep it off.
Once you’ve napped and eaten some mac n cheese, you suit
back up for yet another assignment. You slip into your sneakers and attach your
belt to your black leggings. You disassemble your gun and store it into a
backpack before placing a bandana over your nose and pulling your hood up.
Having two assignments in one day used to be uncommon, but
recently, you have had request after request after request. Apparently you’ve
become top dog with no intention of coming down.
You set up atop a nearly vacant apartment building. You reassemble
your gun and set it on the edge of the building. You check the time, 3:45 PM.
You have quite a few hours to spare so you waste time reading a book and
watching some Netflix.
As 7 PM approaches, you decide to check your bank account,
no money has been transferred causing you to sigh. You grab your phone and dial
your client’s number.
“Hello?” “You gonna
wait until the last second to pay me or have you backed out?” you question,
leaning against the side of the building. “I planned on paying you once the job
was finished.” He explains causing you to roll your eyes. “That was never the
agreement. You have 10 minutes and I better see $10,000 in my bank account or
your guy is going to sleep like a baby tonight.”
You hear a groan on the other end, “I can’t get it to you in
10 minutes. But I’ll get it to you, I promise.” Your fist clenches around your
work phone and a slight cracking emits from the cheap plastic. “That seems very
unfortunate, Dale. I have been sitting out here for 3 hours only for you to tell
me I was wasting my time? You must be joking.” You seethe. “Okay okay! I
transferred the money to you.”
You notice only $5,000 has been transferred into your
account and you can’t help the anger that rolls from your shoulders, “Dale, you
have 24 hours to get me an additional $10,000 or I won’t reschedule with you
and I’ll come for your head instead.”
You demand, ending the phone call and sighing.
Two unsuccessful missions in one day. You’re beyond pissed.
You look through the scope of your gun and train it on your target. He was a
heavy man by the name of George Palmer. He has engaged in many activities such
as treason, having multiple affairs on his wife, and even aided in the violent
removal of innocent homeless people in various areas of the city (so violent
that many of them didn’t live to see the next morning).
He waddles toward a limo that visibly sank upon his entrance
and you cringe. You hate people like George.
“You know, killing innocent people is a crime.” You whip
around, clicking the safety off of your gun and training it on the source of
the voice. Two men stand in front of you and your eyes narrow: Captain America
and Bucky Barnes himself.
“Why aren’t you behind bars then?” you voice out, watching
as two sets of blue eyes harden. “You’re the infamous Persephone?” Bucky
questions, seeming surprised. “Yeah I guess, but I never chose to be called
that, it just kinda happened.” You get a bit distracted and lower your gun.
“You’re a hitman?” Bucky still doesn’t seem convinced. You
roll your eyes and snort, “Why do you seem so unconvinced there, James?” He visibly tenses at the name
and your chest swells with triumph.
“You know we have to take you in right?” Steve questions and
you immediately turn the safety on your gun and strap it to your back. “As
fantastic as that sounds,” you begin, slowly moving backwards onto the ledge of
the building, “my mother always told me not to go anywhere with strangers.”
“Does your mother know you’ve murdered people?” Bucky’s
demeanor has completely changed and his face is stone cold. Your jaw clenches
at his question. “Does yours?” you
challenge and smirk when he falters at your words. “Listen fellas, I’m not a
saint, but I’m not a bad guy. You have more important people to worry about. So
how about this, you let me do my job, and I’ll forget this ever happened.”
“We just can’t do that, ma’am.” Mr. Patriotic sure as hell
is getting on your nerves with his ‘righteous’ act. “Well. I understand that.
Which is why you have to understand this.” With that, you hold your arms out
and step from the side of the building.
The wind whips past your face and you genuinely wouldn’t be
upset if your plan didn’t work out. But just as you had calculated, you land
roughly in the back of a trash truck. You grin as the men’s forms fade into the
darkness and the truck drives off.
That was weird. Who would have thought, the Avengers showing
interest in you. You really have made a reputation for yourself. It puts a sour
taste in your mouth. That or it could be the rotting food surrounding you.
Either way you don’t like it.
You stealthily find your way back to your apartment,
paranoid at the idea of confronting the ice princess and his patriotic pal once
again. When you finally do get inside, you place your weapons inside of your
safe and lock it. You slide into your bed and groan into your pillow.
It wouldn’t be the first time you have had a run in with the
law, but with a quick change of identity and the right kind of makeover, you
were back on track. But the Avengers are too smart for that. They are a group
of elite, genius humans who aren’t easily fooled. How do you avoid them?
You’ll figure it out in the morning.
You are booked with clients this week, the last thing you
need to worry about is having the avengers breathing down your neck. You’re
going to have to be more cautious than ever before and that puts quite the
damper on your mood.
That night, you really didn’t get any sleep.
While you’re eating breakfast, you receive a text on your
work phone. ‘Let me know when your
schedule opens. Hoping it will be soon with my new bid on Barnes.’ Your
eyebrows shoot up and you slurp another spoonful of cereal in your mouth while
‘And what is this new
‘$5 Million if it’s
done in the next month.’
Cheerios launch across your table as you choke. Your face
becomes red and you’re still sputtering as you attempt to fathom that amount of
money. 5 Fucking Million Dollars. That would give you enough money to quit work
and go on a long overdue vacation.
You quickly reply saying you’ll find when to clear your
schedule and you dance around your apartment in complete and utter joy.
You didn’t care that James Buchanan Barnes was on the road
to redemption. He had done horrible things and deserved to pay for it.
There were two things you knew for sure:
Bucky Barnes needed to die.
And you we’re about to be a lot richer.
A/N: I don’t think I will be doing any tagging for this series. Still debating though!!
Talk to me with the click of an unloaded gun when you pull the trigger, like the voice of a bullet that never was supposed to fire, like the assassin’s hands shaking, like crickets crying out underneath boot heels. Say something. Say anything.
Sing off key like neon flickering, like matches burning out, like choking on blood when the time comes to die, choking on blood in a nest of burnt out matches and broken neon signs in a back alley. Sing like you didn’t die alone. Sing a funeral hymn. Sing anything.
Lie to me like you have knives piercing your ears and eyes and tongue, lie like you have arsenic in your windpipe and bullets in your temples. Lie like you didn’t choke on your blood alone in a alleyway full of burnt-out matches and dead neon, gold still staining your fingers, strangling your neck, hiding the pulse of your wrists.
Ask me anything. Ask me what it’s like to die. I can tell you, it’s easier than holding your corpse, it’s easier than wiping your blood off my hands, it’s easier than closing your still open eyes, it’s easier than existing when you were supposed to survive, fuck I was trying to keep you safe, keep you alive, keep you here.
Ask me what it’s like to die and I can tell you it hurts less than living.
If he dies in an alleyway, and no one is there, does he leave a ghost?