#that fucking situation. also between a white guy and a fob like COME ON!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[grimmshood]

like its all fun and games as a kid until you go and get curious about characters that are like you in your interest and then you go and (rummages for an example) in superhero comics there's a total of two specifically pakistani women who are major characters and they're ms marvel and faiza hussain from a comic in 2008 that i learned about while writing this fucking post

#txt #and when you look at the dc wiki and the Only pakistani chara is mahreen #and she's still a side character. and i wouldnt have known she existed if glep hadnt told me #like granted muslim charas are limited in western media knowing how pk muslims seem to be about like. media consumption #but like DUDE!!! #and i had to stop reading ms marvel bc they put her in a love triangle like.... shes just like me except i dont know any girls whove been i #that fucking situation. also between a white guy and a fob like COME ON!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! #*withers away*

[hearteyes-for-killmonger]

Part 18: Visitor

In the early hours, Erik walked casually through the next hotel's parking lot dressed in comfortable all black with his bag of equipment, following silently and subtly a few feet behind a clueless older white man, mid-50s in loafers. The guy was making his way to a small silver Ford c-max with key in hand. He hit the unlock moving to the passenger side and luckily, he was parked next to a truck. Erik hopped in the cut behind him and between the two cars, wrapping his right arm around the guys neck, catching his chin in his elbow. The guy grabbed Erik's arm trying to resist and protect his throat, but Erik gripped his shoulder before locking his left arm behind the man's head, thumb to his own right ear. The throat was caught between his arm and bicep as he squeezed for ten seconds feeling the man go slack. He released him gently to the ground and took the keys, sliding into the driver's seat. Pulling out of the hotel lot, he turned on the radio grimacing when country music flared from the speakers. He switched the radio to the hip hop station. After thinking over the dinner incident, he knew exactly how he'd been located. He knew the risks earlier when he'd taken that damn picture despite being in the middle of a game of assassins. He needed to get to the computer at the Reunion Tower to access employee files. That was his start.

Parking a block away, Erik created his own route to side entrance, carrying his bag over his shoulder. It would've been so much easier if he could've strongarmed an employee to get in, but they were all long gone as were the police so fuck all that. He didn't need anyone to get the job done, he'd do it himself. Checking out the lock, he wondered about the security system. If he weren't on a time crunch, he'd have waited to scope the place out for cameras and to check the security system. All he had to go on was what he'd picked up earlier in the day. His knowledge was something, but not thorough. He knew they probably had a security alert system in place but it likely wasn't sophisticated and officers were not 24/7. He'd probably trigger a silent alarm so time was of the essence as well as a mask for whatever CCTV they had. He had an unassuming black ski mask that he put on, tucking his gold necklace. He also wore gloves so his race wouldn't be known.

Picking the side lock instead of the front or back was the better decision. Typically it was the least congested when it came to security, in his experience and now that he was into the tower, he had to be efficient and brief. He had two goals. 1) Hack into the employee records for staff schedules and staff personal information. He could get this from payroll. 2) Delete all photos they have on file that way he could delete his own image without singling himself out.

---

The harsh bounce of the plane as its wheels drop loudly and beat the runway shakes you awake and throws you around in your seat, the mechanical whirring of the machinery rushing forward like a giant car. Judging by the hush that had been as a blanket over every passenger, it seems that you're not the only one who was knocked out. As the lights shine on in the plane you can see and hear people waking up, shifting to life in their seats. The sky is still black, but the plane is guided by by amber artificial lighting. When it finally rolls to a stop, you have to wait along with everyone else to get off. Fighting the urge to close your eyes, you check the time. It's close to 2:45, which means it's almost 5 in Texas.

Erik is probably stretched out right now on his face, buried under pillows and enjoying having that hotel bed to himself. Maybe he'll let the maids into the room this time... or not. Knowing him, it's still not likely.

Finally the first few rows stand up starting the exit wave. You jump up with sleep still in your eyes to tug your bag down from the overhead bin, following the quick moving line of passengers through the suspended hall into the airport gate. They all move like they have somewhere to be in a hurry the way they speed speedwalk from the plane like they weren't just knocked. Meanwhile, you're ready to take a nap in one of these many empty seats you keep passing up.

"We ain't that reckless," you mumble. If you fell asleep in a public area with your luck you'd wake up with half your  luggage or items missing. "..Sleepy sleepy sleepy," you mumble.

The good thing about flights at this time is that the airport is practically empty which means there's no one in your way, no one to compare your pace to, and no one to dodge or speed walk against. You can take things at your own pace without the social pressure to keep up without looking fatigued. Collecting your checked luggage from the baggage claim, you go your own pace to the parking lot hitting the unlock on the key fob. The familiar lights flash on and you head on over settling in.

It feels so strange driving Erik's car without him in it. You feel yourself blinking a little too much and too long, yawning into the side of your wrist with watery eyes. The same energy from the airport is on the road, borderline deserted. There aren't a lot of cars out riding around past 3 especially where you're headed. You flip on the radio turning it to a pop station and High Hopes by PATD has just started. Cranking it up, you sing along as loudly as you can muster to wake yourself up. You can feel yourself swerve a bit. The music carries you all the way to that exit where you turn off into some stretch of rural nothing. It's where you take an unmarked and nearly unnoticeable road that looks like it leads to nowhere. Following it, you find that familiar long and dark backroad, riding through under a canopy of tall grass and weed-like plants that shoot up from the dirt like walls. You drive slowly fearful of a frantic deer or some large animal jumping out in front of the vehicle. Finally, you're met with the large isolated modern house with glass panels. It's very dark. Strong shadows are cast all over the surrounding area, the greenery... the only light comes from the stars up above, twinkling mildly off of the glass.

How does Erik see anything when he comes home at night with the lights off? The place isn't even lit properly, he ought to leave the lights on! How does he feel safe like this?

Come to think of it, he does pack guns. You'd counted three. One he gave to you for emergencies, one you'd seen in his hand when he came to your rescue in your apartment, and one you'd seen at dinner when the restaurant got shot up. You cringe at the memory of the blood and the shots. It looked like someone had died yet Erik had been so ready to rush out to play hero, confronting the situation head-on as if he were still active duty and on the front lines. That part of him while honorable is still very scary because his overconfidence and meddling nature could potentially be the death of him. Then what? He's only human and not immune to attacks but he just won't back down. It seems to be embedded into his makeup.

Three guns. That's only what you've seen! The thought makes you shake your head. Maybe that's it right there. Maybe Erik doesn't feel safe either. Maybe that's why he has so many guns.. to protect himself.. because of the life he's lived. He's seen some awful things, you're sure. Things you can't imagine and the way he hardly blinked watching those attackers... You shiver. He wouldn't call it fear, he'd call it being prepared. Either way, he feels a strong need to watch his back, that much you can gather.

The first thing you do when inside the house is go through and flip on all the lights downstairs and then upstairs. Well, not all of them, but enough to start to feel like you aren't the main character in a horror movie with some homicidal maniac hunting you from the woods. The influx of light enough to ease your mind for the time being and you use the excess jittery energy to unpack and put your brand new belongings away. You hadn't gotten a chance to wear everything you'd bought in Texas, but something told you that you would. Erik was entirely too extra to not find an occasion. He'd probably create one.

Stripping down, you locate his hamper tossing in your belongings. You'll wash them all tomorrow. As for now, you head naked down the hall and into the bathroom more excited than ever to use his spa room of a shower. Looking over the contents arranged on the long and exposed shelf under his double sink, you pull from the neatly folded white washcloths and towels stacked next to the wicker basket of Erik's grooming items. To the left are a gang of small white candles in simple glass jars with black labels and white print. He's got at least two of each scent.. Vanilla, Sandalwood, Egyptian Musk, Coconut Mango, and Leather. Heading back into the hall, you snatch the lighter from Erik's bedroom drawer, lighting the Coconut Mango before carrying your body wash into the shower.

Once out, you wrap a towel around yourself carrying the candle and head to your own assigned room to lotion down and put on a tank with some small shorts to sleep in. Only suddenly, after showering you're not ready to sleep just yet.. so you head back downstairs with the spare blanket you found in the guest room's closet and help yourself to a yellow gatorade and some popcorn figuring you probably ought to cook something tomorrow so his groceries don't go to waste. There're some good ingredients in his fridge. You aren't doing any of it tonight though.

Sitting on the couch and flipping on the TV, you get cozy under the blanket as the current commercial break ends. There's a lady with a blunt blonde bob popping corn over the stove like she's in the stone age. You eat a handful of your own popcorn as she picks up the phone and the voice sounds creepy.

Who the hell is she speaking to and why is she entertaining him? Wait, is that Drew Barrymore?

"Wait.. Oh hell no," you change the channel not wanting to watch a horror movie right before bed, especially Scream.

"Nope," you repeat suddenly a tad paranoid. Not while you're in a bigass house in the middle of nowhere alone, like a cabin in the woods and your phone is upstairs. No ma'am, no sir. You keep flipping, sipping your gatorade.

After flipping through nonsense, however, curiosity gets the best of you and against your better judgement, you go back to Scream. You'd never actually watched it before though it was hailed as a classic.

"No he doesn't have her doing trivia," you snicker.

"...And he kills her boyfriend. This is crazy... He done stabbed her in the chest and choked her? That's a little personal, he must have known her. This killer is someone she knows."

"Dang, he must have stabbed her in the lung because she couldn't even yell to her parents. Will he kill them too or are they not on his hit list? Her only targets teens who cook their popcorn weird."

Shovelling more popcorn into your mouth you ignore that you're basically her right now, choosing instead to watch the mom as she looks outside.

"Don't tell me... Oh NO.. NO NO NO."

When you see the body hanging, you almost turn it off but then these homicidal 90s suburban teens come on screen and each of them seem not just capable of murder, but intrigued by it. You can see this creepy film is gonna be a whodunnit. Suddenly, you're more aware of the chill on your arms and the sounds in the house.

It's just the house settling, you remind yourself. There's no one out here. Erik lives away from society and that includes psychotic knife-weilding murderers.

Flu pops into your mind threatening to make you frantic, but you cast his face down immediately.

Nope... no one is out here. It's just me and I'm okay. I'll be okay.

The doorbell rings your heart hops into your throat. There's an accompanying aggressive knocking on the door causing your head to snap right to face it as you sit still as possible.

Who the french toast is all the way out here at 4:40 a.m. and why? Keep it together. Find a weapon.  Don't freak out. Get up... quietly.

Again, someone knocks and you continue to stare at the door like a deer in headlights. The doorbell rings twice and your eyes widen when a feminine voice yells.

"ANSWER THE DAMN PHONE." You listen closely. "I WILL BURN ALL THIS SHIT DOWN, KILL," she threatens as if she's looking for somebody.

Who?

Against your better judgment again, you pad to the door and peep through the peephole spotting a slim brown girl with long dark curly hair in a big sloppy top bun. She's looking you dead in the eye and you have to remember that she can't actually see you.

Looks about his type though. Exactly his type actually.

"Stop looking at me and open the door, Kill. This is business."

With your hand on the knob, you unlock the door and pull it open to a crack. Staring at the woman in front of you, she's about an inch taller but it's close. She opens her mouth but her eyes widen briefly in surprise and she closes her mouth, squinting in pure bewilderment.

"Who.. are you," she tilts her head with an pained expression that says you are way out of place and far from home. You know that already and she doesn't need to look like that. Afterall, she's the one banging on the door at close to 5 in the morning while you're inside. So who's really out of place? "Hello?"

"..That's none of your business. Who are you and do you know what time it is?"

Her eyes are unwavering, staring you down. "It's none of your business," she remarks. You start to shut the door in her face, but she pushes it back open.

"His car is here. Tell him to come out."

"He's not here. Check back in a few days." Rolling your eyes, you try to shut the door again and she pushes her way in going straight to the staircase.

"KILL," she yells from the bottom. You fold your arms and glare at her until she looks your way.

"Are you done? I don't know what you two are on, but like I said he's not here."

"Look, I'm not the one you wanna toy with," she retorts, her finger twirling dismissively at you. She takes off upstairs and you follow to keep a keen eye on her, but you need to grab your phone from your room to call Erik. He answers on the second ring.

"What's up, baby," he mumbles.

"Why.. what you doing?"

"Taking a shit."

You frown looking at the woman who's standing in the doorway watching you. Her eyes narrow and her lips pout.

"There's a woman here looking for you. She just scared the living daylights out of m-"

"You opened the door?"

"Yeah because she-"

"You don't know who's on the other side or what they want so why would you open the fuckin door?"

"Pause. How did this become an attack on me?"

"I'm not attacking you but if she was someone dangerous you'd be dead right now."

"Erik, anyone out here is out here on purpose as far out into the cut as this damn house is. That means they either know you or they're extremely lost and looking for civilization. So you tell me who dangerous is lurking around the middle of nowhere? You got evil exes to destroy?"

"KILL. ANSWER YOUR PHONE," the woman yells from the doorway.

"You never heard of serial killers," Erik asks. "People who be FUCKIN people up for no reason?! You don't answer the door at 4 AM, stupid!"

"Don't call me stupid, asshole! What do I do about this girl here staring at me. Did you not hear her screaming like an idiot-"

"I heard that shit! Tell her ass to chill the fuck out! I'll get with her tomorrow," Erik snaps. "Don't be answering the door so late at night. All them damn movies you watch, you'd think you'd-"

"You'd think you'd control your damn subs! Y'all are both irking the hell out of my nerves."

"Don't be doing stupid shit when I'm not there to protect you. What if it were someone dangerous?"

"You so damn paranoid! I'm a ask you one last time then I'm leaving because this is some bullshit and I don't have to take it."

---

"Oh you real bold when I'm not there. Keep that energy in life and you'll be good." He'd just left the home of a man on staff who'd gone home early in the day before shit went down.

It seemed a bit suspect when Erik saw it on the schedule and when he was the man's face on his scanned ID, the man looked like he could be a relative of one of the shooters, maybe a younger brother.

Erik's hunch turned out to be right and with a gun to the guy's nose in his sleep, he rushed out an address while begging for his life. Apparently big bro was into some shit he ain't know about. At least that's what he'd claimed. It could've been the truth. It could've been a lie. Erik pulled the trigger and left him there as a stain and a warning to anyone involved that they would be located and exterminated in the same manner.

"She a friend. We collab on projects," Erik muttered closing the car door as he hopped out and started walking.

Swift wasn't playing if she showed up on his doorstep. She never did that. She'd never had to, he was typically efficient and even quick. But this time he was fuckin up and trying to fix it. She wanted this job wrapped up.

Of course she had other shit to do and places to be that would make her money, but she was hanging around and standing by for him solely because she had a crush on him. He was very aware although she'd never admit it and he was grateful for her help and support. She was an invaluable partner, much like Rell. He hoped he'd never have to end her the same way.

"Give her the phone," Erik softened, ignoring Y/N's grumbling as he walked on a dirt path into a wooded region surrounded by pitch black.

"Hey," Swift said simply. She knew not to talk in front of his subs. She'd already met Shay once and Jaliyah twice.

"You're scaring my sub, stop that shit she's skittish and very sensitive."

She sighed.

"I was compromised and targeted," he divulged knowing the expression she'd wear. In his mind he could see her jaw drop, the thinly veiled panic in her brown eyes. "Relax, they took out the wrong guy. I know exactly how they found me and I'm on them as we speak."

The line went quiet and he waited for her response, standing still.

"Fine. Have fun," she enthused finally. He knew what that coded response truly meant. Be careful.

"I'll be fine." She was probably thinking of coming to Texas just to back him up. She was powerful. However, he was confident in himself and finally in a space where he was thinking clearly. "I got this," he assured her. "Go ahead to Mazatlan. I'll hit you up when this is done. No one gets the drop on Killmonger."

Hanging up, Erik walked carefully and quietly until he heard voices, then he moved stealthily around the clearing that was set up with a camper, fire, and lights to check out the surrounding area. From far back where he stood, there was a narrow road and a few other trailers. The main road was near, but he'd come a back way through the trees on foot. He counted four voices and they were discussing ways to get their hands on more military grade weapons. One of them had a collection of assault rifles for trade and another was looking to invest in a tank. Erik stood positioned in the woods unnoticed with his bag on the ground and 27 lb AS50 assembled and aimed once he got the visual. The AS50 had a lower recoil than his AW50 so it would be easier to hit four targets quickly. He waited a moment making sure he could actually fatally hit each target, determining that he easily could. Before anything could go wrong, he braced himself and quickly hit the trigger four times. The bodies fell and his sharp ears no longer picked up conversation.

Moving quickly to a different position with a visual, he got low. The next person to come into view got popped and fell. Going in closer to the trailers, he waited, but no one else came out.

"Fuck it," he said after fifteen minutes. He stepped into the clearing and nudged the bodies with his foot checking for reactions and movements. Two responded. He shot them both again. The third body brought him great glee.

"Been chasing yo ass," Erik frowned staring down. It was undoubtedly his target.. in the flesh. He was late, but he'd gotten him and now Swift could get up off his back and he could go- "Shit.."He felt a bullet go through his leg.

He fired instantly in the direction from which the bullet came and his shot went through the trailer in front of him under the cracked window. He only hoped he hit whoever it was.

Limping, he forced his hit leg to carry him into the trailer where he saw a small blonde boy on the ground bleeding out with a .40 caliber pistol in his still hand. A touch of guilt touched Erik's heart. It was just a little kid, a kid who likely knew nothing of what was going on and had been raised in the bullshit, taught early on to shoot.. This was probably his first real gun. The little guy was probably the son of one of the five men he shot. He felt even more guilty knowing he'd taken someone's father away like that. It probably didn't really matter since the boy was dead now, but still... The world was a fucked up place.

Even more fucked up was the fact that he now had to go into each of the trailers and shoot whoever was holed up in each one. They were probably innocents, but he had to be thorough. No more fuck ups. He ripped a peice of material from a shirt hanging over a chair and quickly tied it around his leg under his pants. He controlled his limp moving to the next trailer finding a haggard older woman holding a little girl to keep her calm. The woman shook her head but before she could speak, Erik spoke first.

"I'm sorry," he whispered pulling the trigger twice.

#black panther killmonger #erik killmonger x black reader #original #house rules #erik stevens x reader #erik stevens x you

[narisjournal-blog]

A Lot To Learn (Part 3): When I Was New

A LOT TO LEARN MASTERLIST

Chuck x Reader Fobwatch AU Word Count: 2,187

Chuck has a secret that even he doesn’t know. But you do. And you are sworn to protect him and keep his secret safe inside a fobwatch necklace you keep with you at all times.

You and Chuck decide to get some fresh air. The animals seem drawn to Chuck for some reason, and he is faced with a situation that makes him wonder once more just exactly you might not be telling him. 

Warnings: Sickeningly fluffy fluff (there are ducks). 

Please give me feedback!

Your fingers mindlessly traced the grooves and patterns in the locket that hung at your chest. You relished the feeling of the wind gently tousling your hair and the crisp autumn air biting your skin.

‘I trust you,’ Chuck had said. 'I know you’ll keep this secret safe.’

Your words had stammered and crumbled. Your lip had trembled.

'But what if I can’t? What…what if I screw this up? What if it all goes wrong?’

He had taken you in his arms and stroked your hair.

'We can talk through your contingencies. But you’ve got this. I believe in you,’ he had purred softly as you shook.

'But…’ you had stuttered. 'But Chuck… I… you’re the one I always turn to. I don’t think I can do this without you.’

'You won’t be without me,’ he had smiled at you, pulling back to look into your eyes. 'I’ll be right here.’

The softness and love you had seen in those big blue eyes in that moment had calmed you.

If he trusted you, then you had to believe he was right. He knew the inner workings of your heart better than you did, and he was handing you this fob watch with complete faith. He was handing you his very heart.

You sighed and looked over at the man who was literally your world. He came out of his front door waving his wallet to signify that he had found it.

You leaned against the wall of his house, jacket pulled tight but squinting in the sunlight. You wondered if it was coincidence how the light seemed to fall on him, as though it was drawn to him on some level even the universe itself didn’t understand.

Chuck smiled, though he too squinted against the light. He had this excited energy about him as he fumbled about locking the door.

It was clear he hadn’t left the house for a while.

He came and stood before you, inhaling the fresh air deeply before his eyes fixed on you.

'You look deep in thought. What’s got that mind whirring?’ He asked.

You smiled. 'Nothin’. Just thinking about… you.’

He hesitated. 'Me?’ He said, pointing to his chest. He frowned at you. 'I’m really not that interesting.’

You laughed and pushed yourself to stand. You held out your hand to him.

'Come on. Let’s go.’

He took your hand, sliding his fingers into yours.

You both chatted idly as you walked, not really sure where you were going.

You couldn’t help but watch him as he spoke; there was an air of innocence about him. Something pure and unburdened. He was like a new man since yesterday.

The seizures were brutal and no fun for anybody. But they seemed to clear his head and lift some great weight off his shoulders; for a few days, at least.

You had thought about getting him medication. There were plenty of anti-convulsants used for epilepsy that would reduce the seizures. But Chuck wasn’t any normal human and you had no idea how anything stronger than ibuprofen would affect him.

The visions were important. As much as it hurt to watch him go through it all, it was necessary.

You turned your attention back to what he was saying. He gesticulated as he spoke, perhaps forgetting he was still holding your hand as he pulled at your arm.

You giggled, giving a teasing tug back.

'Sorry,’ he smiled. 'I get overexcited sometimes.’

'One of the many reasons I love you, Chuck.’

You had ended up in the park and spotted a vacant bench nearby. You pointed to it.

'Shall we?’

Chuck nodded and you led him over and both sat.

This was nice. You sat in silence for a little while, your head resting against his shoulder. You relished these days. The burden felt so much lighter, and you barely even noticed the ticking clock that hung at your neck.

You were pulled from your thoughts by the sound of quacking as several ducks had gathered at Chuck’s feet.

He laughed. 'I haven’t got anything for ya, fellas. Sorry.’ He leaned forward, watching them.

'That’s adorable,’ you said.

As chuck moved, you noticed there was also a grey squirrel sat on the back of the bench behind him.

He was like a damn Disney princess, you thought.

As he sat back, the squirrel scurried onto his shoulder and perched there for a minute.

Chuck froze at first, not sure what it was.

'It’s just a squirrel,’ you reassured him. He relaxed and smiled, looking round at the creature on his shoulder.

'What… what is it with the animals this morning?’

You cleared your throat. 'Afternoon,’ you mumbled.

He shook his head. 'Whatever.’

The squirrel darted down Chuck’s chest and sat on his knee.

'I haven’t got anything for you, either,’ he laughed. He gingerly stroked a finger across the little guy’s furry head. The smile that now took over his face and crinkled his eyes was pure joy.

He looked up at you.

'Alright, Snow White. Looks like you’ve made a friend,’ you laughed.

'Hold on,’ he said, feeling about in his jacket pockets. The squirrel sniffed at his pocket as he reached in.

'Huh!’ He said, pulling out a handful of monkey nuts.

The squirrel took one gratefully and scurried back up onto Chuck’s shoulder to start breaking into it.

'Why do you have monkey nuts in your pocket, Chuck?’

He scrunched his face up, thinking.

'I don’t… I don’t know. I don’t remember… where did I even get them from?’

You laughed as he broke the others open and threw them to the ducks at his feet.

'Another reason I love you. You’re a mystery even to yourself.’

He smirked. 'Yeah? What about you?’ He said, turning to look at you.

'Me?’

'You’re pretty mysterious.’

'Am I?’

'Yeah. Like…’ he huffed, trying to find his words. 'Like, how you always seem to appear when I need you. Even at 3 am. I don’t call you. I never need to. You just know.’

You sighed. Yeah, that was pretty mysterious, you thought.

'I just know you.’

Chuck shook his head, his forehead creased.

'But how? Why? I mean… it’s like you drop everything. For me. Like…’ he sighed. 'like I’m the most important thing in the world. In… in your world.’

You hesitated, wondering how you could explain this.

'You are,’ you said quietly.

You looked up at him just as he also looked up. Your eyes met.

Chuck brought his hand to your cheek. It was surprisingly warm.

'I love you, Chuck. Always will. Whatever you need, I’m always right here. You know that.’

'I do.’

His eyes scanned your face, taking you in.

You realised this was another of those moments where the humanity in him was likely to take over. But this time, it was him who pulled away with a sigh.

A goose honked loudly by your feet and you laughed.

'You got any more hidden snacks for your rowdy fans?’ You said, nodding to the birds in question.

He pulled away from you and felt around in his jeans pockets this time.

He looked surprised when he pulled out a small bag of sunflower seeds, laughing incredulously.

'Would ya look at that,’ he remarked. He looked at you as if you would have the answer.

You shrugged. 'You’re a prophet. Maybe you foresaw it.’

He tipped some seeds into his hand and bent down for the ducks and geese to get it. Completely natural, like it was something he did every day.

He turned back to look at you.

'My head’s been completely fucked lately. I don’t remember half the stuff I do. You’re the only thing keeping me together. You know that right?’

'That’s exactly what I’m here for.’

He turned his attention back to the birds. One of the smaller ducks seemed to have a twig or something sticking through its wing.

'Hey little guy,’ he said softly. He scattered the rest of the seed on the floor and when the injured duck shuffled forward to peck at it, Chuck slowly reached out to examine the wing.

The duck flapped a little, but calmed down almost instantly. Something about Chuck’s energy seemed to put him at ease.

'Let me see, buddy,’ Chuck cooed, slipping off the bench and kneeling down.

He gently slid his hand around the duck, it’s fragile form cupped in his hand.

You watched in awe, your hand clutched to your chest. It was incredible to watch the amount of love that poured out of the man, even when he had no idea who he was.

Pushing feathers aside, he was able to see where the twig had torn through. There was a little blood. He winced as he slowly pulled it out, as though it was from his own arm.

The bird tried to flap and struggle a little, but Chuck held him firmly.

Once the twig was out he tried to examine the wound, but the duck was flapping a Lot now in panic. Chuck frowned up at you, real concern in his face.

You knew that face. It was a face that said 'I wish I could make it better. I wish I could ease his pain.’

You didn’t even really think.

You brought your hand down your chest to clutch once more at the necklace. Your other hand found its way onto Chuck’s back.

You felt the surge through you, and this time, Chuck noticed the faint glow that sparked from his hand where it held the duck.

The duck’s flapping calmed and he began quacking again. Chuck let go, and the duck stretched out his now fully healed wings and shuffled back into the crowd to finish of the seed that remained.

Chuck looked down at his hands in wonder. He looked up at you, eyes bright and wide as you quickly removed your hand from him.

'Am I… what the hell just happened? You saw that, right?’

You bit your lip and nodded.

'You know something about this, don’t you?’

Oh, fuck, you thought.

'I…’

He joined you on the bench again, perching on the edge and turned to face you. He slid his hand onto your knee.

He looked between you and the duck, shaking his head in disbelief, before fully fixing his eyes on you.

'God does answer prayers, you know,’ you finally responded.

Chuck’s forehead crinkled. 'But I didn’t … I wasn’t …’ he stuttered.

'Prayers aren’t always words, Chuck.’ Your heart was pounding in your chest.

'But… why listen to me? Why… this? Why now?’

'He chose you. You are a prophet, right? That means you have a… connection with him.’

You inhaled and closed your eyes. 'Your heart is so compassionate. You were deeply moved by the innocent little creature that was hurt. You wanted to help.’

You felt a tear roll down your cheek and you opened your eyes to see his glistening blue eyes fixed on you.

'That, right there, is the heart of God.’

That, right there, you thought, showed you that he really was still here; even though he didn’t know it. Even though God himself had no idea.

It had been a rough few years. You had found yourself so lonely, even with Chuck right by your side.

There had been days he had barely even been a pale reflection of the man you knew him to be and it ached in your heart.

So moments like this, when his heart was so clear, were sacred to you. It showed you there was still hope, and you could get him back.

Just not yet.

His eyes shone as he listened to you. Finally he spoke, after studying your face for a while.

'You have a really strong faith, don’t you?’

You nodded and smiled.

'I feel like… I feel like there might be something you’re not telling me…?’ He said softly.

You looked up into his bright blue eyes.

'Do you trust me?’

He put his hand on your cheek again.

'With my life.’ The sincerity in his eyes warmed you to the core.

You nodded once. 'Then I promise you, if there’s something you need to know - you will. You just concentrate on being you.’

He held you for a few minutes, searching your eyes. It felt like he was looking straight into your soul, and the connection you felt was like electricity buzzing through your veins.

'Ok,’ was all he said. And then he relaxed.

Chuck spotted an ice cream truck across the park.

'You want one?’ He asked, pointing to it and fishing his wallet out of his pocket.

'Yeah,’ you smiled. 'I’d love one.’

'I’m gonna get you the biggest cone with all the sprinkles and sauce and the flake and everything,’ he beamed, that same childlike innocence emanating from him.

'You don’t have to-’ you started, laughing.

Chuck interrupted. 'I insist. I want to say thank you for helping me out. For… for always being here for me.’

'Ok. Only if you get one too.’

*** Tags:

Everything list: @quixoticcat @afanofmanystuffs @trashforwinchesters @yourewelcomeforbeingmyfriend @featheredluci @natasha-cole @greenappleeyes

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@dont-hate-relate-pls

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#chuck shurley x reader #chuck x reader #chuck shurley #chuck x you #chuck shurley x you #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction

[hearteyes-for-killmonger]

Part 18: Visitor

In the early hours, Erik walked casually through the next hotel's parking lot dressed in comfortable all black with his bag of equipment, following silently and subtly a few feet behind a clueless older white man, mid-50s in loafers. The guy was making his way to a small silver Ford c-max with key in hand. He hit the unlock moving to the passenger side and luckily, he was parked next to a truck. Erik hopped in the cut behind him and between the two cars, wrapping his right arm around the guys neck, catching his chin in his elbow. The guy grabbed Erik's arm trying to resist and protect his throat, but Erik gripped his shoulder before locking his left arm behind the man's head, thumb to his own right ear. The throat was caught between his arm and bicep as he squeezed for ten seconds feeling the man go slack. He released him gently to the ground and took the keys, sliding into the driver's seat. Pulling out of the hotel lot, he turned on the radio grimacing when country music flared from the speakers. He switched the radio to the hip hop station. After thinking over the dinner incident, he knew exactly how he'd been located. He knew the risks earlier when he'd taken that damn picture despite being in the middle of a game of assassins. He needed to get to the computer at the Reunion Tower to access employee files. That was his start.

Parking a block away, Erik created his own route to side entrance, carrying his bag over his shoulder. It would've been so much easier if he could've strongarmed an employee to get in, but they were all long gone as were the police so fuck all that. He didn't need anyone to get the job done, he'd do it himself. Checking out the lock, he wondered about the security system. If he weren't on a time crunch, he'd have waited to scope the place out for cameras and to check the security system. All he had to go on was what he'd picked up earlier in the day. His knowledge was something, but not thorough. He knew they probably had a security alert system in place but it likely wasn't sophisticated and officers were not 24/7. He'd probably trigger a silent alarm so time was of the essence as well as a mask for whatever CCTV they had. He had an unassuming black ski mask that he put on, tucking his gold necklace. He also wore gloves so his race wouldn't be known.

Picking the side lock instead of the front or back was the better decision. Typically it was the least congested when it came to security, in his experience and now that he was into the tower, he had to be efficient and brief. He had two goals. 1) Hack into the employee records for staff schedules and staff personal information. He could get this from payroll. 2) Delete all photos they have on file that way he could delete his own image without singling himself out.

---

The harsh bounce of the plane as its wheels drop loudly and beat the runway shakes you awake and throws you around in your seat, the mechanical whirring of the machinery rushing forward like a giant car. Judging by the hush that had been as a blanket over every passenger, it seems that you're not the only one who was knocked out. As the lights shine on in the plane you can see and hear people waking up, shifting to life in their seats. The sky is still black, but the plane is guided by by amber artificial lighting. When it finally rolls to a stop, you have to wait along with everyone else to get off. Fighting the urge to close your eyes, you check the time. It's close to 2:45, which means it's almost 5 in Texas.

Erik is probably stretched out right now on his face, buried under pillows and enjoying having that hotel bed to himself. Maybe he'll let the maids into the room this time... or not. Knowing him, it's still not likely.

Finally the first few rows stand up starting the exit wave. You jump up with sleep still in your eyes to tug your bag down from the overhead bin, following the quick moving line of passengers through the suspended hall into the airport gate. They all move like they have somewhere to be in a hurry the way they speed speedwalk from the plane like they weren't just knocked. Meanwhile, you're ready to take a nap in one of these many empty seats you keep passing up.

"We ain't that reckless," you mumble. If you fell asleep in a public area with your luck you'd wake up with half your  luggage or items missing. "..Sleepy sleepy sleepy," you mumble.

The good thing about flights at this time is that the airport is practically empty which means there's no one in your way, no one to compare your pace to, and no one to dodge or speed walk against. You can take things at your own pace without the social pressure to keep up without looking fatigued. Collecting your checked luggage from the baggage claim, you go your own pace to the parking lot hitting the unlock on the key fob. The familiar lights flash on and you head on over settling in.

It feels so strange driving Erik's car without him in it. You feel yourself blinking a little too much and too long, yawning into the side of your wrist with watery eyes. The same energy from the airport is on the road, borderline deserted. There aren't a lot of cars out riding around past 3 especially where you're headed. You flip on the radio turning it to a pop station and High Hopes by PATD has just started. Cranking it up, you sing along as loudly as you can muster to wake yourself up. You can feel yourself swerve a bit. The music carries you all the way to that exit where you turn off into some stretch of rural nothing. It's where you take an unmarked and nearly unnoticeable road that looks like it leads to nowhere. Following it, you find that familiar long and dark backroad, riding through under a canopy of tall grass and weed-like plants that shoot up from the dirt like walls. You drive slowly fearful of a frantic deer or some large animal jumping out in front of the vehicle. Finally, you're met with the large isolated modern house with glass panels. It's very dark. Strong shadows are cast all over the surrounding area, the greenery... the only light comes from the stars up above, twinkling mildly off of the glass.

How does Erik see anything when he comes home at night with the lights off? The place isn't even lit properly, he ought to leave the lights on! How does he feel safe like this?

Come to think of it, he does pack guns. You'd counted three. One he gave to you for emergencies, one you'd seen in his hand when he came to your rescue in your apartment, and one you'd seen at dinner when the restaurant got shot up. You cringe at the memory of the blood and the shots. It looked like someone had died yet Erik had been so ready to rush out to play hero, confronting the situation head-on as if he were still active duty and on the front lines. That part of him while honorable is still very scary because his overconfidence and meddling nature could potentially be the death of him. Then what? He's only human and not immune to attacks but he just won't back down. It seems to be embedded into his makeup.

Three guns. That's only what you've seen! The thought makes you shake your head. Maybe that's it right there. Maybe Erik doesn't feel safe either. Maybe that's why he has so many guns.. to protect himself.. because of the life he's lived. He's seen some awful things, you're sure. Things you can't imagine and the way he hardly blinked watching those attackers... You shiver. He wouldn't call it fear, he'd call it being prepared. Either way, he feels a strong need to watch his back, that much you can gather.

The first thing you do when inside the house is go through and flip on all the lights downstairs and then upstairs. Well, not all of them, but enough to start to feel like you aren't the main character in a horror movie with some homicidal maniac hunting you from the woods. The influx of light enough to ease your mind for the time being and you use the excess jittery energy to unpack and put your brand new belongings away. You hadn't gotten a chance to wear everything you'd bought in Texas, but something told you that you would. Erik was entirely too extra to not find an occasion. He'd probably create one.

Stripping down, you locate his hamper tossing in your belongings. You'll wash them all tomorrow. As for now, you head naked down the hall and into the bathroom more excited than ever to use his spa room of a shower. Looking over the contents arranged on the long and exposed shelf under his double sink, you pull from the neatly folded white washcloths and towels stacked next to the wicker basket of Erik's grooming items. To the left are a gang of small white candles in simple glass jars with black labels and white print. He's got at least two of each scent.. Vanilla, Sandalwood, Egyptian Musk, Coconut Mango, and Leather. Heading back into the hall, you snatch the lighter from Erik's bedroom drawer, lighting the Coconut Mango before carrying your body wash into the shower.

Once out, you wrap a towel around yourself carrying the candle and head to your own assigned room to lotion down and put on a tank with some small shorts to sleep in. Only suddenly, after showering you're not ready to sleep just yet.. so you head back downstairs with the spare blanket you found in the guest room's closet and help yourself to a yellow gatorade and some popcorn figuring you probably ought to cook something tomorrow so his groceries don't go to waste. There're some good ingredients in his fridge. You aren't doing any of it tonight though.

Sitting on the couch and flipping on the TV, you get cozy under the blanket as the current commercial break ends. There's a lady with a blunt blonde bob popping corn over the stove like she's in the stone age. You eat a handful of your own popcorn as she picks up the phone and the voice sounds creepy.

Who the hell is she speaking to and why is she entertaining him? Wait, is that Drew Barrymore?

"Wait.. Oh hell no," you change the channel not wanting to watch a horror movie right before bed, especially Scream.

"Nope," you repeat suddenly a tad paranoid. Not while you're in a bigass house in the middle of nowhere alone, like a cabin in the woods and your phone is upstairs. No ma'am, no sir. You keep flipping, sipping your gatorade.

After flipping through nonsense, however, curiosity gets the best of you and against your better judgement, you go back to Scream. You'd never actually watched it before though it was hailed as a classic.

"No he doesn't have her doing trivia," you snicker.

"...And he kills her boyfriend. This is crazy... He done stabbed her in the chest and choked her? That's a little personal, he must have known her. This killer is someone she knows."

"Dang, he must have stabbed her in the lung because she couldn't even yell to her parents. Will he kill them too or are they not on his hit list? Her only targets teens who cook their popcorn weird."

Shovelling more popcorn into your mouth you ignore that you're basically her right now, choosing instead to watch the mom as she looks outside.

"Don't tell me... Oh NO.. NO NO NO."

When you see the body hanging, you almost turn it off but then these homicidal 90s suburban teens come on screen and each of them seem not just capable of murder, but intrigued by it. You can see this creepy film is gonna be a whodunnit. Suddenly, you're more aware of the chill on your arms and the sounds in the house.

It's just the house settling, you remind yourself. There's no one out here. Erik lives away from society and that includes psychotic knife-weilding murderers.

Flu pops into your mind threatening to make you frantic, but you cast his face down immediately.

Nope... no one is out here. It's just me and I'm okay. I'll be okay.

The doorbell rings your heart hops into your throat. There's an accompanying aggressive knocking on the door causing your head to snap right to face it as you sit still as possible.

Who the french toast is all the way out here at 4:40 a.m. and why? Keep it together. Find a weapon.  Don't freak out. Get up... quietly.

Again, someone knocks and you continue to stare at the door like a deer in headlights. The doorbell rings twice and your eyes widen when a feminine voice yells.

"ANSWER THE DAMN PHONE." You listen closely. "I WILL BURN ALL THIS SHIT DOWN, KILL," she threatens as if she's looking for somebody.

Who?

Against your better judgment again, you pad to the door and peep through the peephole spotting a slim brown girl with long dark curly hair in a big sloppy top bun. She's looking you dead in the eye and you have to remember that she can't actually see you.

Looks about his type though. Exactly his type actually.

"Stop looking at me and open the door, Kill. This is business."

With your hand on the knob, you unlock the door and pull it open to a crack. Staring at the woman in front of you, she's about an inch taller but it's close. She opens her mouth but her eyes widen briefly in surprise and she closes her mouth, squinting in pure bewilderment.

"Who.. are you," she tilts her head with an pained expression that says you are way out of place and far from home. You know that already and she doesn't need to look like that. Afterall, she's the one banging on the door at close to 5 in the morning while you're inside. So who's really out of place? "Hello?"

"..That's none of your business. Who are you and do you know what time it is?"

Her eyes are unwavering, staring you down. "It's none of your business," she remarks. You start to shut the door in her face, but she pushes it back open.

"His car is here. Tell him to come out."

"He's not here. Check back in a few days." Rolling your eyes, you try to shut the door again and she pushes her way in going straight to the staircase.

"KILL," she yells from the bottom. You fold your arms and glare at her until she looks your way.

"Are you done? I don't know what you two are on, but like I said he's not here."

"Look, I'm not the one you wanna toy with," she retorts, her finger twirling dismissively at you. She takes off upstairs and you follow to keep a keen eye on her, but you need to grab your phone from your room to call Erik. He answers on the second ring.

"What's up, baby," he mumbles.

"Why.. what you doing?"

"Taking a shit."

You frown looking at the woman who's standing in the doorway watching you. Her eyes narrow and her lips pout.

"There's a woman here looking for you. She just scared the living daylights out of m-"

"You opened the door?"

"Yeah because she-"

"You don't know who's on the other side or what they want so why would you open the fuckin door?"

"Pause. How did this become an attack on me?"

"I'm not attacking you but if she was someone dangerous you'd be dead right now."

"Erik, anyone out here is out here on purpose as far out into the cut as this damn house is. That means they either know you or they're extremely lost and looking for civilization. So you tell me who dangerous is lurking around the middle of nowhere? You got evil exes to destroy?"

"KILL. ANSWER YOUR PHONE," the woman yells from the doorway.

"You never heard of serial killers," Erik asks. "People who be FUCKIN people up for no reason?! You don't answer the door at 4 AM, stupid!"

"Don't call me stupid, asshole! What do I do about this girl here staring at me. Did you not hear her screaming like an idiot-"

"I heard that shit! Tell her ass to chill the fuck out! I'll get with her tomorrow," Erik snaps. "Don't be answering the door so late at night. All them damn movies you watch, you'd think you'd-"

"You'd think you'd control your damn subs! Y'all are both irking the hell out of my nerves."

"Don't be doing stupid shit when I'm not there to protect you. What if it were someone dangerous?"

"You so damn paranoid! I'm a ask you one last time then I'm leaving because this is some bullshit and I don't have to take it."

---

"Oh you real bold when I'm not there. Keep that energy in life and you'll be good." He'd just left the home of a man on staff who'd gone home early in the day before shit went down.

It seemed a bit suspect when Erik saw it on the schedule and when he was the man's face on his scanned ID, the man looked like he could be a relative of one of the shooters, maybe a younger brother.

Erik's hunch turned out to be right and with a gun to the guy's nose in his sleep, he rushed out an address while begging for his life. Apparently big bro was into some shit he ain't know about. At least that's what he'd claimed. It could've been the truth. It could've been a lie. Erik pulled the trigger and left him there as a stain and a warning to anyone involved that they would be located and exterminated in the same manner.

"She a friend. We collab on projects," Erik muttered closing the car door as he hopped out and started walking.

Swift wasn't playing if she showed up on his doorstep. She never did that. She'd never had to, he was typically efficient and even quick. But this time he was fuckin up and trying to fix it. She wanted this job wrapped up.

Of course she had other shit to do and places to be that would make her money, but she was hanging around and standing by for him solely because she had a crush on him. He was very aware although she'd never admit it and he was grateful for her help and support. She was an invaluable partner, much like Rell. He hoped he'd never have to end her the same way.

"Give her the phone," Erik softened, ignoring Y/N's grumbling as he walked on a dirt path into a wooded region surrounded by pitch black.

"Hey," Swift said simply. She knew not to talk in front of his subs. She'd already met Shay once and Jaliyah twice.

"You're scaring my sub, stop that shit she's skittish and very sensitive."

She sighed.

"I was compromised and targeted," he divulged knowing the expression she'd wear. In his mind he could see her jaw drop, the thinly veiled panic in her brown eyes. "Relax, they took out the wrong guy. I know exactly how they found me and I'm on them as we speak."

The line went quiet and he waited for her response, standing still.

"Fine. Have fun," she enthused finally. He knew what that coded response truly meant. Be careful.

"I'll be fine." She was probably thinking of coming to Texas just to back him up. She was powerful. However, he was confident in himself and finally in a space where he was thinking clearly. "I got this," he assured her. "Go ahead to Mazatlan. I'll hit you up when this is done. No one gets the drop on Killmonger."

Hanging up, Erik walked carefully and quietly until he heard voices, then he moved stealthily around the clearing that was set up with a camper, fire, and lights to check out the surrounding area. From far back where he stood, there was a narrow road and a few other trailers. The main road was near, but he'd come a back way through the trees on foot. He counted four voices and they were discussing ways to get their hands on more military grade weapons. One of them had a collection of assault rifles for trade and another was looking to invest in a tank. Erik stood positioned in the woods unnoticed with his bag on the ground and 27 lb AS50 assembled and aimed once he got the visual. The AS50 had a lower recoil than his AW50 so it would be easier to hit four targets quickly. He waited a moment making sure he could actually fatally hit each target, determining that he easily could. Before anything could go wrong, he braced himself and quickly hit the trigger four times. The bodies fell and his sharp ears no longer picked up conversation.

Moving quickly to a different position with a visual, he got low. The next person to come into view got popped and fell. Going in closer to the trailers, he waited, but no one else came out.

"Fuck it," he said after fifteen minutes. He stepped into the clearing and nudged the bodies with his foot checking for reactions and movements. Two responded. He shot them both again. The third body brought him great glee.

"Been chasing yo ass," Erik frowned staring down. It was undoubtedly his target.. in the flesh. He was late, but he'd gotten him and now Swift could get up off his back and he could go- "Shit.."He felt a bullet go through his leg.

He fired instantly in the direction from which the bullet came and his shot went through the trailer in front of him under the cracked window. He only hoped he hit whoever it was.

Limping, he forced his hit leg to carry him into the trailer where he saw a small blonde boy on the ground bleeding out with a .40 caliber pistol in his still hand. A touch of guilt touched Erik's heart. It was just a little kid, a kid who likely knew nothing of what was going on and had been raised in the bullshit, taught early on to shoot.. This was probably his first real gun. The little guy was probably the son of one of the five men he shot. He felt even more guilty knowing he'd taken someone's father away like that. It probably didn't really matter since the boy was dead now, but still... The world was a fucked up place.

Even more fucked up was the fact that he now had to go into each of the trailers and shoot whoever was holed up in each one. They were probably innocents, but he had to be thorough. No more fuck ups. He ripped a peice of material from a shirt hanging over a chair and quickly tied it around his leg under his pants. He controlled his limp moving to the next trailer finding a haggard older woman holding a little girl to keep her calm. The woman shook her head but before she could speak, Erik spoke first.

"I'm sorry," he whispered pulling the trigger twice.

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