ofcoldguns:

@heart-on-her-sleeve​  said:  ❝My mother always told me, be a duck.❞ (Ray to Len)

“Am I supposed to know what that means?” he asked, he figured that it was some sort of advice that was either supposed to make him feel better or help him figure out what he was supposed to do but he couldn’t for the life of him figure out what he meant.

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“Not really, nobody ever really did. I just thought it might be comforting to have some sort of advice for this situation,” Ray explained, knowing that those words probably weren’t all too helpful now, no matter how much they made him smile. “I guess what I mean is always keep moving. We can’t let life pull us down, even when things don’t go our way.”

setitallaflame:

heart-on-her-sleeve‌:

Allie only kept running for fear of her life. That, and the man’s grip on her arm was like concrete, pulling her forward and away from danger. Her eyes widened in awe, shock, and fear when a fireball soared past them. She could practically hear it tearing and singeing his jacket. As he spun, so did Allie’s head, and she watched in fear as the assailant’s hand was pierced with the stranger’s knife. The stranger sauntered away from her, and she backed up slowly, allowing herself to be swallowed in darkness as her back hit a wall. “What the hell?” Allie’s voice was but a breath as she whispered into the blanket she still had tightly wrapped around her.

Allie was not one to cry, but after the events of the day and the shock from the current situation, she felt tears begin to form in her eyes and a cold chill descend upon her body as she watched the assailant clamber away from the stranger who’d just saved her. She felt her chest constrict as her breath caught in her throat. It took everything in her to muffle her breathing in an attempt to hide from this man who had just saved her, but also harmed another.

Lucan wiped the blood from his knife on his already-burned jacket before sliding it back into his pocket. Then, still on high alert in case any other members of the Brotherhood decided to show up, he turned to face the woman. But he saw only darkness, the shadows of the street. He hadn’t heard her run away, though, so he plainly stated, “I’m not going to hurt you. But if I didn’t stop him, he would’ve not only tried to kill me, but anyone else who got in his way.” The Brotherhood didn’t care about collateral damage.

“Did he hurt you?” Lucan thought that he’d managed to get her running before she could be hit, but it was dark and he couldn’t be sure. A beat passed before he added, “We have to go. Anyone else can show up at any moment, and if we don’t move we’re sitting ducks. You’re afraid of me, you want to leave on your own, fine – do it. Just don’t stay here.”

Allie’s teeth began to chatter as the cold set in and the adrenaline began to wear off. “Not going to hurt me? You just stabbed that guy. Who’s to say you’re not going to do the same to me?” She practically spat her words, mostly upset that she now had nowhere to sleep for the night. She took a few steps out of the shadows, allowing the little light from the alley to shine on her. 

“I’m fine, it’s barely a scratch. I can’t stay here, anyway. My bed was destroyed. Let’s go.” She sucked air between her teeth as she began walking toward the main road, feeling a painful twinge in her leg, as the fireball that destroyed her sleeping place had hit her leg and the blood was soaking her singed pant leg. Allie tried to keep walking without showing any signs of pain, but she only took a few steps before she stopped and leaned against the wall of the alleyway. “Maybe it’s a little more than a scratch,” she added, looking down at her stained pant leg.

huntresscaraquinn:

heart-on-her-sleeve‌:

Tom’s breath caught in his throat as he realized the severity of the situation he was now in. He knew ways to covertly signal that he was in distress, but he couldn’t risk being shot. “No funny business, got it. I’m going to unlock the door now, okay?” Tom’s voice sounded small, despite his attempt at sounding manly and strong. He slowly turned the key in the door, reaching his hand in and unlocking the other doors of the older car. His heartbeat rose as he slowly climbed into the car, thankful for the temporary relief of not having a gun held to his back.

His breath caught once more as he felt the cold barrel against his shoulder. “Oh-okay, where to?” Tom tried to steady his voice, but the shake & stutter in his voice was evident.

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“Slowly,” Cara warned, keeping the gun firmly pressed against his back as he unlocked his door before hitting the button that would unlock the others. She made sure that they climbed inside at the same time, readying herself for any attack or desperate attempt to get help that he might make, and prepared to hit him with the butt of the gun if necessary. She really didn’t want to end up in the driver’s seat – the blood loss was going to hit her sooner rather than later – but she couldn’t chance him creating an even bigger mess than she was already in.

Thankfully he didn’t try anything and, once she was seated and the gun was in place again, she said, “Ease out of the parking lot and take a right. A left and then another right after that.” Backroads that would lead them to the outskirts of the town where the odd abandoned building or home could be found.

He slowly turned the key in the ignition, afraid that she might take one of his movements as hostile. His movements continued to be slow as he buckled his seat belt & adjusted the rearview mirror. He glanced at his assailant before fixing his eyes on the road. Tom sat rigid in his seat as he drove, following the directions the woman instructed. His mind raced, trying to figure out how he could possibly get out of this situation. “What do you want from me?” He asked, his voice shaking ever so slightly.

normallyxstrange:

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@heart-on-her-sleeve​ cont. from here

     “Yes, you.” Wren pursed her lips slightly. He was good and buzzed. His thoughts–just the surface ones she couldn’t help but skim–were alcohol soaked. The edges blurred. He was impaired, maybe not completely drunk, but enough.

     “Seven’s a good number. A lucky number. I think that’s enough to cut you off.” Her lips pulled into a smile. “But I’m no bartender.”

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“But eight’s an even number,” Ray pleaded, wanting to continue his drunken escapade. “A nice, round, even number. eight drinks, eight sides of a stop sign, perfect number to stop at!” He exclaimed, reaching for the shot that was placed before him by the bartender. Ray downed the shot, making a face as it burned. He slapped his credit card down on the bar. “You may not be a bartender, but I’m Ray.”

infinitylegacy:

heart-on-her-sleeve:

“The Salvatore’s? Yeah, sure,” Elena responded, moving over to the file cabinet that she spent so much time with when she first met Stefan. “There’s not a whole lot, but I have some other resources that I found myself when I was researching the founding families.” She rifled through the files, pulling the oldest file from the cabinet. “Here’s information on the founding Salvatore’s. Giuseppe was the Patriarch, with three children who were noted as dying in 1864, their mother, Lily dying 6 years prior due to consumption.”

Sam nodded as she listened to the information that she was reading off the information on her family that she didn’t know that she knew already. “Does it say how the children died in 1864?” She asked her as she found a spot to lean back against the wall and she looked around. She then looked around the room and flashed back to what life was like back in the day and she smirked.

Elena scanned the document, looking for the information. “According to the records, It says here that they died in the battle of Willow Creek.” She noticed Sam zoning out a bit, and cocked her head to the side. “You okay over there? It looks like you’re in another world,” she said with a smile. “And I don’t blame you, this history stuff can get pretty boring sometimes.”

@vandbaerer liked this post for a surprise starter!

Matt sat upon a bench in the middle of town. spinning his vervain bracelet around his wrist. He was waiting, but he wasn’t sure what for, exactly. He just knew he couldn’t sit in his office or the squad car any longer. He heard footsteps approach before the person sat next to him. Matt turned to face them, his face lighting up. “Oh my God, how – how are you here right now? It’s been so long!”

infinitylegacy:

heart-on-her-sleeve:

Stefan glared back into the woman’s eyes, noting no feeling of familiarity. “I don’t know who the hell you think you are, but you’re not my sister,” he said through clenched teeth, his words like razors. He pulled himself away from her, just to push her shoulder back against the wall as he backed away.

“My sister is dead. She, along with my brother and father died a   long    time ago,” Stefan took a few more steps away, his back to the woman as he twisted his daylight ring around his finger. He could feel the ghost of her hand on his cheek still, something that his sister did to comfort him when they were young. He shook his head, shaking the foggy memory away with it.

Of course when Stefan pushed her away, she frowned and she watched what he did after that. She knew that him reacting he way he did was something she actually wanted from him.

“Stefan…” Sam called out to him. “You know it’s me. I am here. I am sorry that they made you believe that I was dead when I am in fact here. I don’t know if someone compelled you to forget me but I need you to remember. “ she said. “Look at me Stefan…”

Stefan continued to spin his daylight ring around his finger, his eyes searching the plain wall in front of him as thoughts raced through his mind. His hand touched his face where her hand just was. “She’s dead. he’s dead…they’re all dead…” Stefan’s voice was quiet and urgent, trying to remind himself of the truth he’s known for decades. Her voice snapped him back to reality, and his gut filled with rage. 

“I don’t want to remember. I am the way I am. Whatever was or wasn’t compelled, I don’t care. It’s better not caring. No emotions to tie me down.”

Stefan nodded as he listened to Miles talk. It was always nice listening to others, in his opinion. “I see similarities, but I think you’re more different than you think. You’re already more expressive of your emotions than I think he ever was around me, anyway.” Stefan turned his head and looked at Miles, a smile pulling at his lips as Miles turned back to look forward. 

“Piano, huh? You’ll have to play for me sometime,” Stefan quipped, knowing that he and Damon had a grand piano, but it was only kept up because he insisted that he was going to learn one of these days, but never has. “And maybe you can teach me over a glass of whiskey sometime.”

Damon cocked his head to the side. “Eh, it kind of depends. He must be in a really good mood if he puts on an accent.” His trademark smirk spread across his face as he escorted Anthony to his seat

As they sat at the table, Elena’s face lit up, looking at her family all sitting around one table. She lifted her glass for a toast and smiled at Anthony before looking to the rest of the family. “Here’s to family, and being back together as one.”

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