#i brought you my bullets you brought me 19 years

[lazarusemma]

Nov 6 - Cas is

Nov 11 - He’s

Nov 18 - Sam says Mia says journaling helps. Sure.

Nov 19 - Should’ve been me.

Nov 20 - Sam, if you’re reading this thing, I’ll kick your ass.

Nov 21 - Spaghetti for dinner. Cas still dead. Journaling still stupid.

Nov 24 - I should’ve said

Nov 25 - Should’ve told him.

Nov 26, Thanksgiving - Not a whole lot of thanks around here. Thanks for dying in front of me, man. Thanks for saying all that. Thanks for disappearing again before I

Nov 30 - C not back.

Dec 5 - 1 month. C gone. J quiet. S annoying.

Dec 6 - Least Sam’s alive.

Dec 8 - [drawing of Castiel, half sketched]

Dec 10 - Not much of a friggin’ artist huh.

Dec 26 - No miracle.

Dec 31 - Gonna be another year without 

2021

Jan 1, New Year’s - Midnight alone. You should be here. You should

Jan 2 - I should’ve

Jan 5 - 2 months

Feb 5 - 3 months since I should’ve fucking kissed you.

Feb 28 - If this was a leap year man I bet you’d be back tomorrow you always did shit like that surprised the hell out of me.

Mar 1 - So it goes.

Mar 2 - S thought the library here had Vonnegut. Didn’t.

Mar 5 - 4 months Went to get a library card in town.

Mar 11 - “And I asked myself about the present: how wide it was, how deep it was, how much was mine to keep.”

Mar 30 - Sam might have a hunt for us. Don’t know if

Mar 31 - Turned it down. Passed it to Jody’s crew.

Apr 1, April Fool’s - Real funny C. Joke's over. Come back already.

Apr 9 - There’s things I can’t say things I’ve never been good at saying but you gotta know

Apr 29 - He didn’t know he didn’t know he didn’t know he didn’t

May 5 - You died not knowing, you asshole. 6 months and you’re not back so I can’t tell you.

May 6 - You missed Star Wars day, you know.

May 7 - Didn’t even Han you. Well I didn't know did I.

May 8 - Did I?

May 9 - Maybe I

May 26 - “How nice — to feel nothing, and still get full credit for being alive.”

June 5 - 7

July 5 - 8

Aug 5 - 9

Aug 6 - What if you don’t

Aug 10 - You missed my birthday. S’s too. J’s.

Aug 11 - If you can hear me

Aug 12 - What would he even

Sept 5 - Nearly crashed the car today. S had to drive. Banged up my head leaning on the window in the backseat like a kid. 10

Sept 6 - Researching.

Sept 7 - Ain’t fair you missed a whole year. Gonna have a lot of catch up to play when

Sept 8 - …when we get you back.

Sept 18 - Been 12 years. You believe that, Cas? Since I came back. Since you brought me back. Guess I hoped today would be the magic bullet to getting you back. Like you’d tip your head at me and say Hello Dean. And I’d tell you how I raised you from perdition. Whatever. Just a day I guess. Universe doesn’t care it’s our anniversary

Sept 19 - Still gonna say it though. When it works.

Oct 5 - 11. It’s gonna work

Oct 31, Halloween - Never got to put you in a dumb matching costume. Next year though.

Nov 4 - Can’t sleep. Sam says time is powerful magic or some shit like that. Says an anniversary can have echoes. So we’re trying it tomorrow. God, this better work. Cas, you hear me? We’re coming for you. I’ve been praying all year and I’m hearing nothing back. I’ll tell you tomorrow. Gonna get this stuck mouth of mine to make good. It’s just the words, even on paper, they don’t—Tomorrow though, tomorrow I’m telling you everything. Promise.

Nov 5 - Today.

Nov 6 - !!! 🙂🙂🙂🙂

^ heh. check out this dork

#spn #supernatural #destiel #remember remember the fifth of november #my writing #tumblr fic #em og post #wrote this at work lol

[onceuponastory]

survival tactics - the winter soldier x reader

Part Four of my Ghost Story AU - Find the Series Masterlist here.

Plot: When their worst nightmare comes true, Y/N and Bucky try to make it out alive. Pairing: The Winter Soldier/Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader Warnings: Mentions of death, dead bodies, choking, blood, violence, threats, guns, knives, and shooting. Nothing too graphic/gory, but this chapter is definitely more violent than the others, so please use your own discretion! Also mentions of the abuse, manipulation and trauma Bucky faced while under HYDRA’s control. And HYDRA agents being the creepy assholes they are. As always, if I miss any triggers, please let me know. Notes: We’ve reached part four already! Thank you again for all loving this story so much. I hope you like this chapter. Not beta’d, so any mistakes are my own.

1945

He awakens strapped to a table. He can feel things poking and prodding at him, but is too groggy to tell who or what they are. Faces stare down at him, most of them too blurry for him to recognise.

“Sergeant Barnes.” A voice says. 

Who is Sergeant Barnes?

Hazy memories flash through his brain. Memories of flying. 

Or was it falling? 

His body throbs with a dull pain. He twitches, trying to break free, but someone or something holds him down. And somehow, he doesn’t fight it. 

More memories now. Of red crimson on the snow, seeping through it. A beautiful landscape, destroyed by violence. Why so much blood? 

There’s screaming. Screaming that he can’t recognise.

“He’s tense. I’m not sure if he’s stable enough for the procedure yet.”

“The procedure has already started.” The original voice corrects. Another face appears, looming out of the haze. “You are to be… the new fist of HYDRA. Our Winter Soldier.”

19-seventy something.

He’s running. He doesn’t know where he’s going, or how long he’s been running for. He just needs to get away. Away from the base, from all the people touching him, of the pain. He weaves through the trees, a tactic he learnt from years of being a super-powered assassin. His legs pound the frozen ground, and his heart and lungs burn. Despite the pain, he’s never felt so alive.

Just get away. Just run.

As he breaks through the trees, he stops. He can finally see the horizon, vast and never ending. He takes a breath. 

He’s alive.

He’s here.

He’s free.

But as he takes a step forward, something hits him in the leg, and he falls to the ground, landing in the snow. Russian expletives fill the air, and he hisses in pain. Yet, the adrenaline in his veins keeps him going, another burst of energy causing him to rise once more. He steps forward, still hissing in pain. He only makes it a few more steps before being hit in his other leg. He looks down at the bullet hole in his legs, at the blood flowing out of the wounds. Again, crimson seeps into the snow.

They’ve found him again.

Before he can try to get up, or even to crawl forward, two muscular arms grab him, hauling him up. He tries to struggle, but it’s futile. Despite how much he wants to deny it, his wounds have weakened him. And so, he gives up the fight. 

Yet, as he’s loaded back into a van, ready to be taken back to base, one thought remains: He will get out of here. One way or another.

Present Day

Now, as he watches the HYDRA agent, Bucky knows he should’ve known you can never truly outrun your demons. Especially when they’re as all reaching as HYDRA. The man walks around the room, staring at both with a smirk. “Now, we can do this the easy way, or the hard way.”

“Y/N. Run.” Bucky hisses. He knows it’s futile, but there’s still a little hope that she’ll be able to flee there. Y/N tries to run, but he grabs her before she can escape.

“I see you’ve brought a new plaything, Soldat. How generous.” The man shoves her against the wall, and Y/N cries out in pain. The sound makes Bucky even angrier. He tries to stand up, forgetting how tightly he’s been bolted in. “She’ll do nicely. But what to do with her? We’ve been trying to replicate you, you know? Perhaps she can be your replacement.” Y/N squirms in his arms, trying to free herself. “Or maybe… I’ll keep her for myself, hm?”

“Stay away from her.” Bucky demands, his metal arm tensing, flexing against his restraints. The sound of metal grinding against metal fills the air. This whole time, he’s refused to let Y/N see his true self, the true strength and violence he’s capable of. But now, he has to use it. There’s no other choice. It’s for their survival.

So why is he so damn terrified?

“Remain in your cell until the others get here, and then there won’t be any problems.” That’s what they trained him to do. To be obedient and stay locked away for god knows how long. To be their warrior, their soldier, moulded and controlled. That was Bucky’s life for so long. When he escaped, he finally thought he had a chance for freedom, and to live a normal, happy life. To find love. To be Bucky Barnes again.

With Y/N, he found that. Someone to care for him and love him, despite everything. Someone he can laugh with. She’s his entire world, his reason for staying alive. The person he thinks of first thing in the morning and last thing at night. Losing her, losing their happiness scares him to death.

And he’s not letting HYDRA take her away from him, to destroy either of them and the new life they built together. This time, he won’t obey.

The guard looks young, nowhere near as experienced as the HYDRA agents and handlers he’s used to seeing. He’s cocky too, without the same maturity as the other agents. And that, thankfully, means that he won’t have been entrusted with the Winter Soldier’s control words. They have a chance to stop him. Just as long as he can get out of this fucking cell in time. He strains as hard as he can to break free, feeling the metal buckle under his grasp.

“I won’t let you touch him.” Y/N hisses, wriggling in his grasp and hitting the man in the head as hard as she can. “He’s not going anywhere with you.” In response, the man wraps his hands around her neck, squeezing. Y/N groans, clawing at the man’s wrists and kicking with all her might, desperate for survival. An intense rage burns within Bucky. 

“Such a feisty little thing. I can see why you like her, Soldat.”

“His name….” Y/N’s voice fills the room. Soft and strained. “Is Bucky.” Despite the love he feels for her using his real name, Bucky can see Y/N getting weaker and weaker by the moment. The rage intensifies, so hot and strong it consumes his entire being.

Just one more push.

Just hold on, Y/N. I’m coming to save you, just as you’ve saved me. 

“You know what’ll be fun? How about I cut your little girlfriend up… and make you watch?”

Bucky’s metal arm breaks through then, and he kicks the door hard. It bursts open within a second, and he storms out, right towards the HYDRA agent. In an instant, the hand tightly wrapped around Y/N’s neck is peeled off. She falls to the floor, taking in a deep breath of survival. “I told you to stay away from her.” Bucky hisses, his eyes darkening. “You’re not going to touch either of us again.” She’s never seen him like this before, so angry… so frightening. His entire face, once so full of laughter and smiles for her, is contorted by rage. It’s then she realises that this must be what he looked like as the Winter Soldier, and what HYDRA’s enemies saw before they took their last breath. 

The agent’s tough facade soon shatters as Bucky’s grasp on his arm tightens. He cries out in pain, an agonising scream the likes of which Y/N has never heard before. And she never wants to hear it again. As the agent’s body sinks down to the floor, Bucky grabs his gun. 

“See you and your friends in hell.” He hisses, before pulling the trigger.

As the man’s body slumps to the floor, Bucky crosses over to Y/N. In an instant, all the rage in his face is gone, replaced by concern as he checks over her. Already, strong, angry marks are already developing on her neck. Bucky’s jaw clenches angrily. “Scum. Bullets aren’t enough for them.”

However, all Y/N can do is stare at the body on the floor. Whether in horror or a morbid curiosity, she doesn’t know. “He’s dead.” She gasps. She and Bucky watch as a deep crimson seeps out, coating the floor. Just like it did on a cold winter’s day in 1945. “You killed him.” She whimpers. Her stomach churns, and she has to suppress the bile rising in her throat. Of course, she’s not stupid. She knows that this is what needs to be done to stop HYDRA, and they deserve far more than what Bucky gave them. But she’s never seen such a violent death before. Especially not one caused by Bucky.

She should’ve expected this, a voice in her head tells her. After all, all she’s heard since they got to this damn place is how violent Bucky is, the true extent of what he’s capable of. And she didn’t listen, instead believed that part of his life was over, that they were safe. That things were normal. How very wrong she was. But then again, as they grew closer, she never had any reason to doubt that Bucky - the man who listened intently to her family stories, whose eyes sparkle whenever they see her walking into his cell - was anything other than safe. 

And then the tears come, erupting from within as the reality of everything that’s just happened sets in. Immediately, Bucky pulls her close, wrapping his arms around her in a tight squeeze. She buries her face in his chest, inhaling his scent and shielding her eyes from the agent bleeding out next to them. For a moment, Y/N realises how nice it feels to be in Bucky’s arms, and how safe she feels in his tight grasp. He whispers reassuring words in her ear, telling her it’ll be okay in the hopes it soothes her. Even though he doesn’t know if it’ll be alright either. He holds her as she cries, letting her relax and find comfort in his arms. 

“Hey. Look at me.” Bucky orders, gently lifting her cheek up so she’s eye level with him. As she looks into the silvery blue eyes she knows so well, matching her breathing with his, Y/N slowly calms down. Surprisingly, Bucky’s not angry at her hysterical reaction. He’s more sorrowful, upset that she had to see something like that, and concerned for her wellbeing. “I’m sorry you had to see that. But I couldn’t let him hurt my girl.” The words slip out with no thought, and Y/N gasps.

“I’m your girl?” Of course, after being tortured and manipulated for so long, Bucky’s never really thought about his love life, and who he cares for enough to consider his girl. But Y/N has done so much for him, and he loves her so deeply that he knows with no doubt that, yes, she is his girl.

“Of course you are.” He gives her another squeeze, and she manages a small smile. Her eyes flicker down to his lips.

If this was a rom-com, or at least, if they weren’t being hunted by HYDRA agents and didn’t have a dead body bleeding out beside them, this is the part where they would kiss and go in the sunset together to live happily ever after. And that’s what Y/N wants. But life isn’t all sunshine and rainbows, especially not theirs. “Y/N.” Bucky whispers. “We have to go find the others. It’s not safe here.” Y/N nods, letting Bucky help her up and lead her towards the cell’s exit.

“How are you feeling, by the way?” She asks. Her voice is unsure, almost as if she thinks asking someone how they’re feeling when their abusers find them again is a stupid question. Bucky doesn’t think it’s a stupid question though. In fact, Y/N caring about him so much, and making sure that she’s alright even after what she’s been through is making him fall even deeper in love with her.

Honestly, he’s fucking terrified. For a moment, he thought he was finally safe from HYDRA. He feels like a complete idiot for even thinking they wouldn’t find him again. And even though he’ll fight tooth and nail to protect Y/N, to protect both of them, he’s terrified that they’re going to find them both, and then he’ll be taken back to the hell they kept him in for so long. But he’s refusing to show it and worry her even more. He has to stay strong, for both their sakes. He has to do what’s necessary to protect them both. He’ll have to deal with his feelings later, when this is all over, like he has done ever since he escaped their grasp. If they ever make it out of here, that is.

As they step out into the hallway, the hair on the back of Bucky’s neck stands up. It’s so… quiet. Too quiet. What was once a bustling hallway, full of guards, is now empty.

“How the hell do we get out of this place?” 

“I know. Come on.” Y/N beckons. Yet when they try to open the door, it’s locked, and Y/N’s attempts to unlock it don’t work. “They must be on lockdown. We’re stuck here.” Bucky can already sense the panic in her voice, and he squeezes her hand reassuringly.

“No, we’re not stuck here. We’ll find a way out. I promise.”

“What the hell is going on?!” Steve demands, bursting into the room. Maria and Nick glance up at them both, brows furrowed.

“Hello to you too, Rogers, Wilson.” Fury sighs. “It seems we’re under attack. We don’t know who from, or why, but-”

“It’s HYDRA.”

“We don’t know that, it’s-”

“It has to be! Bucky escaped and he and Y/N were terrified of him being found and brought back there. And we just sat around like sitting ducks.” He sighs, massaging his temples. “We should never have come here.”

“Rogers. This entire compound is under lockdown. Nobody gets in or out. We have agents already beginning to search the building. We'll find them.” Fury insists, but Steve and Sam aren’t convinced.

“They could be anywhere in this damn building, alone and vulnerable. And we’re not going to let them be taken.”

Meanwhile, Y/N and Bucky try to find their way out of the maze that is the compound. Y/N swears that they’ve gone down the same hallway at least five times, but she’s too nervous to even say anything. They’ve only encountered a few HYDRA agents on their way, but Bucky dispatched them all with ease. 

“I don’t like this,” she murmurs. “You’d think they would have sent more agents to take you back.”

“I know.” Bucky sighs. “They must be planning something. And that’s why we have to keep moving.” The further into the compound they go, the more nervous Y/N becomes. Her heart hasn’t stopped pounding from the moment the ‘guard’ entered the cell. All she wants to do is lie down and never get back up again. But she has to keep going and be strong. For both of them.

She registers Bucky squeezing her hand again, and it’s only then she realises that they’re still hand in hand. Of course, they have brushed their hands together before, but this is different. This is special, more intimate. “My girl.” Echoes in her mind, and something in her stomach flutters once more. In an ideal world, this is when she’d tell him the truth. That she thinks she’s falling in love with him. Of course, in an ideal world, they wouldn’t have been attacked by HYDRA either, but even then… Y/N’s not sure if she would’ve told him the truth. He’s been through so much already, even before all this. He doesn’t even know what his life is now that he’s escaped HYDRA, or what’s going to happen to him. Her admitting her feelings would destroy any progress he’s made, and force him to make a choice he may not even be ready for. That’s the last thing he needs.

“You okay? All things considered, that is.”

“Yeah.” She lies. “I just never realised how big this place is.” 

As the pair keep walking, the hallway soon splits in to two. “So. Which way?”

“I don’t know.” Bucky steps forward, looking around cautiously.

“Stay here. I’ll go check it out.”

“No! You can’t go. Not alone, not when they’re looking for you!” She insists. Bucky places a reassuring hand on her forearm. 

“I’ll be okay. If need be, I’ll end this on my own. I’ll be back soon. I promise.” And with one last reassuring squeeze, he’s gone.

She doesn’t know how long it’s been since Bucky left. She tried counting the minutes, but gave up after she reached ten. Nervously, she wrings her hands, trying to think of something that won’t make her panic. Bucky’s smart, he’s calculated. They trained him for moments like this. She knows that first hand. Would all his training really be enough to fight off however many HYDRA agents are swarming this place? But she can only think of one thing:

“Why did I let him go on his own?”

Suddenly, she hears footsteps. Relief floods her veins, and she sighs. It’s Bucky. He’s back, and he’s safe. 

“Checking the east perimeter now.” With those words, everything falls apart. That voice definitely isn’t Bucky, and it’s not Steve or Sam either. And Y/N definitely isn’t about to stick around and find out whose it is. She opens a door, diving into the room and closing the door behind her. 

The footsteps get louder and louder, and Y/N dives for cover under a table. She attempts to quieten her breathing, even wondering if HYDRA trains their agents to smell fear, or to notice the sound of panicked breathing or a raised heart rate. When the door opens, Y/N bites her tongue hard, trying to stop the frightened whimper that threatens to erupt. Where the hell is Bucky?

“Is somebody in here?”

Stay quiet.

Stay alive.

As the figure roams the room, Y/N huddles into herself, hoping it makes her invisible. Just like her grandma told her to do when she was too afraid of the monsters under her bed to sleep. “Wrap yourself up, nice and tight… and then the monsters can’t give you a fright.” Her words ring out, clear as day in Y/N’s mind. If only she could’ve known back then just how real the ghosts and monsters that she used to be so terrified of are. But this time, the monsters are so much more evil. 

And then, silence falls. For a moment, Y/N is relieved, hoping it means that the man has finally left and she can continue her search for Bucky. That is, however, until a voice sounds.

“Well, what do we have here?” She’s pulled harshly up then, the tight grasp on her arm making her yelp out in pain. A flash of silver glints in the light, almost at her throat. A knife. In an instant, she’s transported back to her grandmother’s living room, when she first saw Bucky. When she knew that to ensure her survival and avoid being on the other end of those knives, she had to say the right things.

And now, she has to do it all over again.

Bucky though, he was different. He was kind enough to let her go… albeit in his own way. She doesn’t have that advantage here. But she’ll be damned if she’s not going to try.

“Oh.” The man chuckles, closing the gap between them both. “I know who you are. We know all about you. You’re the Winter Soldier’s friend, aren’t you?” She stays silent, a million different exit plans swirling throughout her brain. “Now come on. Where is he?”

“I don’t know.” She finally speaks. It’s not a lie. She hasn’t seen him in god knows how long. Yet the man remains unconvinced. So he asks again. And again, Y/N repeats her answer.

“Come on. You really expect me to believe that?!” He hisses after still not getting his desired response. Before she can even attempt to convince him of the truth, he grins, one that sends a chill throughout her body. “Fine.” He pulls out the knife, bringing it closer to her. The cool metal runs along her skin, her nerves intensifying. He has her life in her hands. One wrong move, and she’s gone. But even then, she still wouldn’t give Bucky up. “If you won’t tell me… I’ll just have to make you.”

Quickly, Y/N shoves him. It’s not hard enough to do much damage, but it’s still enough to knock the man back slightly. She makes a break for the door, but he’s quicker than her. He grabs her, slamming her against the wall and leaving her dazed for a moment. “You can stop this, you know. Save yourself. Just tell me the truth.” She pants, glaring at him. 

“Did you not listen the first few times you asked me? I don’t know where he is. In fact, if he had any sense, he’d be gone, miles away from the risk of being taken again.” It hurts to say that, to think that Bucky would just throw her to the wolves like that, especially after everything they’ve shared. But honestly, she wouldn’t blame him if he ran. Above all else, Y/N wants Bucky to be safe. And she’d sacrifice herself to make sure of it. 

“You can’t stop us. We’ll find him.”

“Not if I can help it. I won’t let you destroy him again.” She hisses.

“You have a lot of fight in you, but we’ll break you eventually. We always do.” He insists. “You’ll be so broken you won’t even remember your name, let alone any of the times you spent with your friends or your family. Just like we did to him.” He’s just trying to scare her into a confession. She knows that. But fear is not the primary emotion she feels in that moment. In fact, she’s full of rage. The way he speaks about Bucky, laughing like the things they did to him and the way they destroyed his life means nothing, disgusts her. As if his trauma, and the things they made him do are just jokes to them. He’s just collateral damage, a pawn in their larger plan.

When she said Bucky would burn the world down to protect her, she didn’t realise that she’d do the exact same for him.

“Go to hell.” She spits in his face. He looks at her curiously for a moment, almost as if he’s impressed by her refusal to back down, and her attempts to fight back. But then, he smirks.

“You really shouldn’t have done that.” In an instant, the knife is back at her throat, almost cutting into her skin. “You’re in for a world of hurt, sweetheart. You really want to test me?” He smirks. The way he stares at her, leering at her as he calls her sweetheart, is enough to churn her stomach. “Do you know what they tell us in HYDRA?” He chuckles. “They say the easiest way to infiltrate someone is through their heart.” He moves the knife lower, pointing it at her chest. Y/N’s heart pounds, so loud she swears it could be heard in the room. “Because once you threaten the people they love… getting them to do what you want becomes so much easier.” He stares at her again, smirking. “So how much does the Winter Soldier care about you, hm? Do you think he cares enough to come running when I hurt you?” Y/N’s blood chills, yet she still scoffs, hoping he can’t see how much his words are affecting her. 

“She’s treated me with nothing but kindness since she found me here.” Bucky’s voice echoes in her mind. She can still picture his eyes, and the way they sparkle. How brightly he smiles whenever he sees her. How he broke out of his fucking cell to save her. The way he abandoned his fucking training and didn’t kill her. He does care about her, he does.

“Do it then. Strike through the heart. But you know what’s going to happen if you do kill me? The Winter Soldier is going to come after HYDRA. And he’ll come for you first.” She promises, hoping that the mere threat of a vengeful Bucky is enough to frighten the man. “And you know exactly what he’s capable of. How he can rip apart entire armies like they’re sheets of paper. Can you imagine what he’d do to you? Do you really want that?” The man pauses, and Y/N takes advantage of this to kick him hard in his shin. 

He grunts in pain, lunging for her, but she brings her arm up, striking him with her elbow. She has no idea which part of his face it connects with, but from the scream of pain that fills the air, she knows it must have hurt. Y/N makes another break for the door, but he grabs her hair, pulling her back. She cries out, a furious call of: “Let. Me. Go!” The mixture of fear, rage and pure adrenaline burns within her, a Molotov cocktail of sorts. With one final push, Y/N shoves the man as hard as she can. He stumbles backwards, falling in slow motion. He hits his head on the side corner of the same table she was hiding under and hits the floor with a thud.

And then the room falls silent once more. Y/N steps forward, warily. Despite how close she gets, the man still doesn’t move. Once she’s sure he’s quiet, she lets out an almighty sigh of relief. Grabbing the knife, she finally leaves the room. However, as she steps outside, the adrenaline wears off, and the reality of the situation hits. For a moment, her legs almost go, and she narrowly avoids collapsing in a heap on the floor. Her heart pounds, her head throbs and she just wants to go to sleep. 

But she has to keep moving, no matter what. Bucky would want her to. So, she takes a few more steps forward, until:

“Y/N? Y/N is that you?” A voice calls. And thankfully, this time it’s a voice she knows.

“Sam? Sam!” she calls, running into his arms. “I’ve never been so glad to see you.” She whimpers, almost breaking down in tears right there and then.

“Likewise.” He chuckles, giving her a squeeze. Almost as if he’s checking she’s real. Suddenly, he takes her in, and his eyes widen. “Are you okay?” 

She glances down, noticing the blood on her clothes. Oh god. He must have nicked her with the knife. The knife that’s still in her hand. It slips out of her grasp, clattering against the floor.

“S-Someone found me. Someone from HYDRA. He tried to take me too, b-but I pushed him and he fell. He hit his head. I don’t know if he’s dead or- “

“Hey, it’s alright. You did good. You stopped him.” He soothes, letting her calm down. And for the most part, it works. Until he asks: “Where’s Bucky?”

“I don’t know.” She sniffles. “He went to scope for more agents, but he hasn’t come back.”

“Hey, hey. It’s okay.” Sam soothes. “Steve and agents are out looking, too. I’m sure they’ll find him.” She nods, hoping to god that he’s right. “Come on. We should head back upstairs. At least the two of us are better than one.” She nods, and Sam leads her throughout the building. Even though she should feel reassured by Sam’s presence, and she appreciates his support, she feels anything but reassured. It’s still so quiet. Too quiet. 

After walking for a while, they round the corner, almost colliding with a figure. Immediately, they prepare themselves for another fight… until the figure holds up their hands in surrender. 

“It’s okay! It’s just me.” Steve gasps. For a moment, she’s relieved. Until she realises that he’s alone. Her heart sinks. Bucky’s still lost, god knows where in this fucking building. But who’s to say he’s even still in this place, that he hasn’t been dragged back by HYDRA? 

“We still have more places to check. It’s alright, we’ll find him.” Steve reassures, almost as if he read her mind. And all she can do is hope that he’s right.

The trio keeps moving, keeping a watchful eye out for Bucky. Suddenly, a door bursts open at the end of the hallway, banging against the wall, the sound reverberating through the air. Reflexively, Y/N jumps. A figure stalks into view. One the trio knows all too well.

“Bucky. Thank god.” She breathes a sigh of relief. Bucky just stands there, watching the three of them. When she attempts to step closer, Steve and Sam stop her. “Guys, what’s-”

But then, he speaks.

“Who the hell is Bucky?”

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#Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #ghost story au #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #Bucky Barnes x female reader #bucky x Female Reader #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #the winter soldier #the winter soldier fic #the winter soldier fanfiction #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fic #bucky fanfic #bucky fic #bucky fanfiction #marvel cinematic universe #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic

[moodyvoid]

🤢🤮

My Chemical Romance (commonly abbreviated to MCR or My Chem) is an American rock band from Newark, New Jersey. The band's current lineup consists of lead vocalist Gerard Way, lead guitarist Ray Toro, rhythm guitarist Frank Iero, and bassist Mikey Way. They are considered one of the most influential rock groups of the 2000s and a major act in the pop-punk and emo genres, despite the band rejecting the latter label.

Founded in September 2001 by Gerard, Mikey, Toro, and drummer Matt Pelissier (and later joined by Iero), the band signed with Eyeball Records and released their debut album, I Brought You My Bullets, You Brought Me Your Love, in 2002. They signed with Reprise Records the next year and released their major-label debut, Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge, in 2004. Shortly after the album's release, Pelissier was replaced by Bob Bryar. The album was a commercial success, attaining platinum status over a year later.

The success of the band's previous albums was eclipsed by that of their 2006 rock opera concept album, The Black Parade. A major commercial success, its lead single "Welcome to the Black Parade" topped the UK singles chart. The album solidified the band's following, despite negative coverage in the Daily Mail generating controversy. The band's fourth studio album, Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys, was released in 2010. Bryar departed the band prior to the release of the album, and in 2012, they added touring keyboardist James Dewees. In 2012 and 2013, the band released a series of singles they had recorded in 2009 under the collective title Conventional Weapons. My Chemical Romance announced its breakup on March 22, 2013. In 2014, a greatest hits album titled May Death Never Stop You was released and a tenth-anniversary reissue of The Black Parade was released in 2016.

On October 31, 2019, the band announced a reunion show, which took place in Los Angeles on December 20, 2019. In January 2020, they announced additional shows and a Reunion Tour, which commenced in 2022 after a two-year postponement due to the COVID-19 pandemic and concluded in early 2023.

[draculagerard]

My Chemical Romance (commonly abbreviated to MCR or My Chem) is an American rock band from Newark, New Jersey. The band's current lineup consists of lead vocalist Gerard Way, lead guitarist Ray Toro, rhythm guitarist Frank Iero, and bassist Mikey Way. They are considered one of the most influential rock groups of the 2000s and a major act in the pop-punk and emo genres, despite the band rejecting the latter label. Founded in September 2001 by Gerard, Mikey, Toro, and drummer Matt Pelissier (and later joined by Iero), the band signed with Eyeball Records and released their debut album, I Brought You My Bullets, You Brought Me Your Love, in 2002. They signed with Reprise Records the next year and released their major-label debut, Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge, in 2004. Shortly after the album's release, Pelissier was replaced by Bob Bryar. The album was a commercial success, attaining platinum status over a year later.The success of the band's previous albums was eclipsed by that of their 2006 rock opera concept album, The Black Parade. A major commercial success, its lead single "Welcome to the Black Parade" topped the UK singles chart. The album solidified the band's following, despite negative coverage in the Daily Mail generating controversy. The band's fourth studio album, Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys, was released in 2010. Bryar departed the band prior to the release of the album, and in 2012, they added touring keyboardist James Dewees. In 2012 and 2013, the band released a series of singles they had recorded in 2009 under the collective title Conventional Weapons. My Chemical Romance announced its breakup on March 22, 2013. In 2014, a greatest hits album titled May Death Never Stop You was released and a tenth-anniversary reissue of The Black Parade was released in 2016. On October 31, 2019, the band announced a reunion show, which took place in Los Angeles on December 20, 2019. In January 2020, they announced additional shows and a Reunion Tour, which commenced in 2022 after a two-year postponement due to the COVID-19 pandemic and concluded in early 2023. 2001–2002: Early career and I Brought You My Bullets, You Brought Me Your Love Witnessing the September 11 attacks influenced Gerard Way to form My Chemical Romance.The band was formed by frontman Gerard Way and drummer Matt Pelissier in Newark, New Jersey, soon after the September 11 attacks. Witnessing the World Trade Center towers fall influenced Way's life to the extent that he decided to start a band. Shortly thereafter, Ray Toro was recruited as the band's guitarist because at the time Way could not sing and play the guitar simultaneously. Way has said "music was this thing I secretly wanted to do" and later wrote the song "Skylines and Turnstiles" to express his feelings about September 11.The name of the band was suggested by bass guitarist Mikey Way, younger brother of Gerard, who was working in a Barnes & Noble when he was struck by the title of a book by Irvine Welsh named Ecstasy: Three Tales of Chemical Romance. The first recording sessions were undertaken in Pelissier's attic, where the songs "Our Lady of Sorrows" and "Cubicles" were recorded. The band refers to those sessions as "The Attic Demos". After hearing the demo and dropping out of college, Mikey Way decided to join the band. While with Eyeball Records, the band met Frank Iero, the lead vocalist and guitarist for Pencey Prep. Following Pencey Prep's split in 2002, Iero became a member of My Chemical Romance, just days prior to the recording of the band's debut album. They recorded their debut album, I Brought You My Bullets, You Brought Me Your Love, just three months after the formation of the band and released it in 2002 through Eyeball Records. The album was produced by Thursday frontman Geoff Rickly after the band became friends with him while playing shows in New Jersey. Iero played guitar on two of the tracks, one of which was "Early Sunsets Over Monroeville". During this time, the band was booked at the infamous venue Big Dadd

sounds fake. source?

#moose asks #mar

[outpost51]

8, 19, 29 for ao3 wrapped :blushy:

AO3 wrapped

8. Pairing you wrote the most for this year?

i think it was kryterius? that sounds right. i didn't have a very pairing-heavy year!

19. What’s one pairing you want to explore next year?

shit dude i've got a few, might throw jane in with a few folks, might do some desabrudas, might fiddle with some originals

29. Favorite line/passage you wrote this year?

i really popped the fuck off with if not, winter. i really did. i wanted good nyria for big bang so i done did it myself. here's the bits people (and me) went a little feral over

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

“Don’t you want something better?” Nyx whispered as they lay together in the dark, facing each other like children at a sleepover – it certainly felt like it with all the escape-plotting and discussions of great treasures that lay just out of sight beyond the Milky Way. “Don’t you deserve better?”

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

The blood on his hands had long since burned to ash, and the ashes didn’t seem to haunt him. She was in the business of making ghosts, not summoning them.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Nyreen was utterly, unbelievably, insufferably brainwashed. If she didn’t have so much goddamn potential, Aria would have laughed in her face and ordered Gavorn to put a bullet in her head. But she did have so much goddamn potential, so Aria invited her to dinner.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Half an hour later, the pain in her back had long since faded as her spine resided itself to hunching over for the foreseeable future. Antona’s hand was cold where Nyreen pressed her face into her mother’s palm. “I met a girl, mama,” she whispered. “She offered to take us away from here. I brought—” Her voice caught on a snag she couldn’t break free.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

“She hates me.” “Why?” Nyreen’s mandibles wobbled. “Because I made her love me.” “Is that true?” “The only thing I ever made,” Nyreen spat, biting and cold as the liquor working its magic on her better judgment, “was the mistake of hoping she could love anyone.”

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

“You always wanted to meet my mom,” she whispered quietly. The lights flickered out. In the years she’d lived on the station, she’d never heard it so silent. Then a chorus of screams rose up all around her, peppered with gunfire. Nyreen swallowed what grief hadn’t been chased off by adrenaline and kissed Liselle’s crest. “Tell her to put the kettle on for me.”

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Aria felt her nails break skin. “You know I’m just using you, right?” Grief had made a tinny, pathetic stranger of her voice. “Obviously.” Tevos didn’t turn away from the mirror. She’d smudged her makeup. Good. “Powerful women don’t have hearts, Aleena. We have ambition.”

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

What a fucking sight she must have made, fat tears streaming into her nose and mouth, gasping like a wretched, half-dead ghoul over some gift shop trinket. When she tried to bark at Nyreen to fuck off, all that came out was a weak, desperate keen. She tried again. Two simple words, she said it all the time. “Bring her back!” she wailed instead. Nailed it.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

It was an exquisite kind of humiliation, the queen of Omega being carried out of her dead daughter’s apartment like a squalling child. Maybe it was for the best that Nyreen dragged her away. Who did she think she was, thinking she’d end up in the same place as Liselle? The goddesses didn’t care if she was a queen. Her title would stay with her corpse, and pass to whatever lucky fuck finally managed to take her out.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

“Maybe she followed us,” Vetra muttered. Maybe Nyreen wasn’t such a good liar after all. Aria’s voice swirled around and around in her head. As she watched the clouds do the same, she replied, small and quiet: “I wouldn’t have followed me.”

#sneeps.txt #ao3 wrapped #ask meme monday

[azantiss]

Week 3: An Album a Day 2024

15. Rakshak, Bloodywood

Rakshak is a metal album that uses influences from the Indian folk genre. it has really hard hitting songs that are fun to count along to and very loopable. the lyrics are in a combination of Hindi and English and are so punk at all times. this is an album to rile up motivation and make you want to jump around if i have ever heard one. some highlights include 'Gaddaar,' 'Aaj,' and 'Chakh Le.'

16. GUTS, Olivia Rodrigo

this is a pop album and it was enjoyable. i love that it leans more into the rock genre than her first album. it has some really unique to hear in pop elements like triplet rhythms and a lot of dragging out phrases that you really don't hear in pop much. some tracks i enjoyed were 'the grudge,' and 'all-american bitch.'

17. Somnia, ABBOTT

Somnia is really beautiful and full of ambient piano, electronic, and instrumental elements. this was a no-skip album that seems great to put on loop in the background. it has the balance i enjoy with ambient music that is enough interesting elements to keep attention just enough but still be able to focus on something else during it. it also plays with some fun time signatures and rhythms. some of my highlights are 'Shuffle' and 'February 30.'

18. Stick Season (We'll All Be Here Forever), Noah Kahan

i like this album so much more than i was expecting. it's folksy and kind of singer-songwriter-y. acoustic sounding everything. this is incredibly dramatic and so much better than just the few clips from it i have heard on repeat on social media. it has a bunch of buildups and sudden changes in pace or volume that worked really nicely. there was also a nice variety of songs and many songs in three, so that is great. some of my highlights include 'Northern Attitude,' The View Between Villages,' and 'Everywhere, Everything.' i think noah kahan is like if thirty seconds to mars was a folk band tbh.

19. Bright Nights * Dark Days, Cavo

Cavo is an album for those who want to want to be a cowboy. one of the highlights, 'Champagne,' has an incredible head-banging screaming section that is amazing to listen to on repeat. another highlight was 'Ghost,' which is a beautiful and emotional piece. this album is hard rock but i would venture to say it. fits so cleanly into the 'y'allternative' joke genre. this album is amazing and has great imagrey and music that many people into different genres may enjoy.

20. I Brought You My Bullets, You Brought Me Your Love, My Chemical Romance

this is mcr's first album and while it took a minute to get into, it has some really incredible raw feeling tracks, emotionally and musically. this was less heavily produced than all their other albums. some of my highlights included 'Early Sunsets Over Monroeville,' 'Headfirst for Halos,' and 'Demolition Lovers.'

21. Room's On Fire, The Luka State

i found one song off of this album years ago, 'Bury Me,' and have loved it since. this album truly does live up to how amazing that one track is. this is an indie rock album with touches of emo/punk, or at least similar sounds to many in those genres. this a relatively depressing album and reminds me of some very specific other groups. some of my favorite tracks were 'Bury Me,' 'Room's on Fire,' and 'Kick In The Teeth.'

#azantisalbumaday2024 #rakshak #bloodywood #GUTS #olivia rodrigo #somnia #ABBOTT #stick season #noah kahan #bright nights * dark days #cavo #i brought you my bullets you brought me your love #my chemical romance #room's on fire #the luka state

[that-kid-from-vault-101]

The blood dripping from my hands belongs to at least a dozen people. Ford, the rest of the bounty hunters, not to mention myself.

I can scarcely move at a limp, having been gassed, beaten, shot, and buried alive all within the last four hours, but I nose open the back door of the saloon, struggling towards the graveyard, leaving the deep snow red in my wake.

I spare some thought to what brought me here, as I slip on the slope to the valley pass, catching myself on an outcropping, staring for a moment at the ground as I open my mouth to spit what had to be mostly half-clotted blood into the muddy slush around my boots.

Randall. God, Randall, you wonderful ghoul-hating bastard. Only once in my life have I had such high respect for an employer, never have I come to call one a friend. You didn’t deserve what you got, no one in Frosthill did, but to have your recompense snatched from you before your very eyes, after so long, being so close, I cannot imagine how gutted your last moments were.

You paid me fair for honest work, you relished in ridding the world of its scum as much as I did. You spoke to me, let me drink your whiskey while you told me what Marko had done to your family. When the bottle was halfway gone, you sat and listened while I told you what had happened to mine.

I told you you’d have made a good father. You told me to quit the soft shit, but that you thought the same of me.

I slide down the slope leading to the graveyard uncontrolled, rolling the last meter or so, and catch myself on my elbows. I think if I’d used my hands I’d pass out from the pain, the two weeping holes barely patched up, unhealed and bleeding like Christ’s stigmata as I prepare to do something so very un-Christlike.

The graveyard is vast. The fever took most of frosthill a decade back, and it had taken years to recover. It’s an eerie scene, as Marko pats down the earth at the end of the center walkway.

He buried you himself. Some gesture of respect, I suppose, for your tenacity. Your drive. The only thing he’s capable of respecting, I think.

He doesn’t notice me, at least not at first. He plants the shovel in the ground, as though admiring his handiwork, but perks up at the sound of the snow crunching beneath my boots.

He turns halfway, his expression irritated, likely thinking me one of his peons interrupting his work, before it turns to befuddlement. He opens his mouth, inhales to speak, but your pistol is already in my hand.

Marko’s fast, but I’ve been at this since I was 19. I’m faster. He clears leather, but the sound of that hollow-point .44 hitting flesh thuds through the courtyard before he can do anything with it.

It catches him in the hinge of his jaw, shearing it away and carrying it with the momentum of the bullet away from the rest of him. Marko falls to one knee, his tongue flapping in the freezing air like some obscene tentacle.

I didn’t come here to hear him talk.

Marko is tough, very tough, and he sets back onto his knee, trying to bring his pistol up and around. The revolver kicks again, and his pistol drops, his hand hanging by a ligament and a few strings of meat.

The pain hits now, the adrenaline starting to ebb even as my anger reaches its peak. The kick of the revolver against my ruined palm sears through me like a hot poker and I stumble, leaning against one of the gravestones for a second until the nausea goes away.

I gather myself and stand. He’s looking at me, drooling blood down the front of his woolen coat, his breathing thick and clotted, but his eyes are clear, unclouded, his head tilting back to meet my eye as I approach.

Our eyes meet, and his are a pale, beautiful blue, full of hatred and disgust as he looks up at me. Confusion, too, as though he couldn’t fathom a loss of dominance, couldn’t imagine a situation in which he was not the one in control.

I don’t relish the moment. I can’t. There’s nothing to enjoy. There is only a job to be done. I remember another old friends words. Killing, when done righteously, is a chore like any other.

I raise your old Remington, Randall, and settle the barrel right between his eyes. He doesn’t flinch.

“You’re just another fucking raider.”

I pull the trigger.

#verse: they call me the wanderer #this is a Drabble I wrote a couple of years back the first time I played through New Vegas Bounties as Aaron #figured I would put it on here as my take of something that happens while Aaron is out West #play the someguy2000 series mod for New Vegas if you haven’t

[satellitefeed]

Founded on September 12, 2001 by Gerard, Mikey, Toro, and drummer Matt Pelissier (and later joined by Iero), the band signed with Eyeball Records and released their debut album, I Brought You My Bullets, You Brought Me Your Love, in 2002. They signed with Reprise Records the next year and released their major-label debut, Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge, in 2004. Shortly after the album's release, Pelissier was replaced by Bob Bryar. The album was a commercial success, and it attained platinum status over a year later. The success of the band's previous albums was eclipsed by that of their 2006 rock opera concept album, The Black Parade, which was a major commercial success, with lead single "Welcome to the Black Parade" topping the UK singles chart. The album solidified the band's following, despite negative coverage in the Daily Mail generating controversy. The band's fourth studio album, Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys, was released in 2010. Bryar departed the band prior to the release of the album, and in 2012, they added touring keyboardist James Dewees. In 2012 and 2013, the band released a series of singles they had recorded in 2009 under the collective title Conventional Weapons. My Chemical Romance announced its breakup on March 22, 2013.[1] In 2014, a greatest hits album titled May Death Never Stop You was released[2] and a tenth-anniversary reissue of The Black Parade was released in 2016. On October 31, 2019, the band announced a reunion show, which took place in Los Angeles on December 20, 2019.[3] In January 2020, they announced additional shows and a Reunion Tour, which commenced in 2022 after a two-year postponement due to the COVID-19 pandemic.

#journal

[tiredstressedemotionalmess]

ask game!!

4. favorite spooky movie?

8. what’s this years costume?

11. favorite halloween candy?

19. what’s the soundtrack for your fall?

4: coraline

8: im dressing as cosmo from fairly odd parents and my friend is dressing up as wanda!! and then depending on what my actual halloween plans are i might come up with another costume for the night but idk what im doing yet so we'll see

11: i fucking loooooove those little twix bars twix is the superior candy imo also those little gummy eyeballs!! there was this one dude on my street who used to give handfuls of those out every year it was fucking great

19: I BROUGHT YOU MY BULLETS YOU BROUGHT ME YOUR LOVE BY AMERICAN ROCK BAND MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE!!!!!!!!!! and also vices and virtues by panic! at the disco, scary monsters and super creeps by david bowie, and that one leathermouth song abt being attacked by monsters

#asks #ask game #this ask has made me realize that my halloween/fall playlist is severely outdated SO IM GONNA GO FIX THAT NOW!!

[multiverse-imagines]

5, 4, 3, 2, 1.

Knives x Reader

Song fic, Murder Song (5,4,3,2,1) by AURORA

-

You almost considered it a fever dream; The day you were found by Knives Millions. It was the day that Lost July became, well, Lost. After an altercation with his Brother, Vash The Stampede, Vash's Angel Arm decimated the entire city.

You had been left in the rubble. A small toddler of maybe four or five. Who your parents had been, where they were now, or if they had been looking for you didn't matter. As Knives walked about the rubble, pleased with his deed, he found you. Sniveling under what remained of a house, a tilted piece of material that was no longer recognizable. Your arm was gashed open, and your leg appeared to be broken, but you didn't scream any longer.

He didn't know why he took you. To this day, nearly thirty-five years later, he still had no clue why he had plucked you off of the ground and brought you home to his troop of The Gung-Ho Guns.

However he never allowed you to even pick up a gun, or any weapon for that matter. You remained something along the lines of his pet. A little pet human who depended on him endlessly, and loved him eternally. He provided you with a proper diet, fitting and fashionable clothing, and a comfortable living quarters which resided next to his own.

It was when you were 15 that he began to include you in on what he really did in life, and his true goals. Eradicating all human life on Gunsmoke, and this creating a perfect world for him, Vash, and the rest of the plants. And although his time with you and the Guns was finite, he had promised you and the others painless deaths once he had achieved his goal. He made it very clear you were not to beg for your life in His paradise.

After that year, the countdown began. More cities began disappearing off the map, and the people with them.

5: Juneora Rock fell when you were 19, and it was also the year you realized you had fallen for Knives.

4: May turned to ruins when you had turned 23, and by then you had told Knives of your feelings. It would take a year for him to accept this, and actually indulge your "incessant fantasy"

3: December fell just before you turned 26, and Knives had fully succumbed to your relationship. His favorite pet, his love, his toy.

2: Augusta fell at age 32, in which you had to console him at the death of his brother. This future had been for him too. Why did he have to fight it?

1: Octovern was the last city to die just 3 years later. All of the humans had perished, save for those within the remaining Gung-Ho Guns, and yourself.

Five members remained, and it was this day at the end of Gunsmoke that the seven of you stood in a circle with Knives in the middle.

"Thank you for everything. Thank you for helping me create my Paradise. Thank you for your Loyalty. Now my gift to you, is the death you've been searching for." He said pointing the silver gun that had once belonged to his brother to the sky as he cocked it to the ready.

5, 4, 3, 2, he shot them all in the head. Clean shots that wouldn't cause them pain. Their bodies falling with a hollow thud in the cold floor of the otherwise empty room. He paused at Legato. His right hand man. Knives seemed to ever so slightly hesitate. This gave Legato a moment to speak.

"Thank you, My Master. My Love." He says before Knives pulls the trigger, his eyes closing.

Legato hits the floor. 1.

Now it was just the two of you. You look up to him, trying not to have any pleading emotion within your eyes. He leans down to press his lips to yours. Heated, passionate, and quite literally your last kiss. You wished he would fuck you one last time, but that would just be delaying the inevitable. It would be asking too much of him.

"Legato kind of stole my words, Master Knives. Thank you for allowing me to stay by your side." A smile crept across your face, serene and accepting of the bullet that had your name on it.

"I've finally achieved my dream. I just wish He could have seen it." Tears streamed down his face.

"It is your decision to enter this era alone, My Love. One I have always respected." The tears began welling up behind your own eyes.

"This world is not meant for lowly humans such as yourself. Such resources would be wasted by your need for consumption." He recited with no malice in his voice. They were words you'd heard a Million Times. He placed the barrel against your forehead, the gun clicking the bullet in place in the chamber. You knew he was killing you for mercy.

"I will Miss you, Master. I love you, Knives." Your voice waivers as a year slides down your cheek.

"Me too, My Pet. May you find peace in death." His eyes are already closed when he pulls the trigger, and Bang, you are dead.

You felt yourself above your body, though a pressure in your back, and waist remained as you looked down to see Knives holding you in his arms. You can slowly hear the screams of his crying begin to fade as your soul detached from this life more and more. You wave goodbye as you depart knowing you have been saved from the awful things in life that would come from the world he created.

#trigun #knives x reader #millions knives #character death #song fic #aurora #54321 #implied Legato x Knives #i should have been sleeping #will proof read later #i cried a little writing this

[falle-ness]

Я опубликовал(а) 4 363 поста в 2022 году

137 постов создано (3%)

4 226 реблогов постов (97%)

Блоги, из которых я сделал(а) больше всего реблогов:

@fyeahmovies

@katarinas-redemption

@snailmailthings

@thetudorslovers

@bob-belcher

Я пометил(а) тегами 317 из своих постов в 2022 году

#пидарасы в фбр - 12 постов

#the blacklist - 9 постов

#donald ressler - 8 постов

#h50 - 7 постов

#steve mcgarrett - 7 постов

#danny williams - 6 постов

#mcdanno - 6 постов

#damn - 5 постов

#good times - 5 постов

#oh yes - 4 поста

Longest Tag: 138 characters

#well the peak of my writing was ig the snowblind ending where ressler shoves an unloaded gun into his own mouth hoping there's the bullet

Мои самые популярные посты в 2022:

#5

How come no one's mentioning Ressler keeping condoms in his belongings alongside the drugs?

The show's finally admitted the guy has sex after all these years of painting him as a virgin, yay. And that he, in fact, is, like a comrade, always ready :D

Does it mean that off-screen he was having fun with the ladies of questionable reputation?)))

21 заметка - опубликовано 8 января 2022 г.

#4

Maybe when I get my shit together, I'd love to write a fic where Danny somehow gets that tape with Steve being almost beheaded by Taliban. Idk, maybe he accidentally gots it via YT fucked up recs? I bet Taliban has streamed it worldwide, so it's possible.

Imagine the anguish Danny feels watching it. I'm sure he'd watch it till the end.

*wails in the distance*

*

Alright, time to go back to my usual shenanigans 🌚

32 заметки - опубликовано 27 ноября 2022 г.

#3

Maybe it's been said many times, but still.

The way Steve looks at Danny when Danny becomes completely unhinged: especially, when some crook refuses to cooperate/is being a piece of crap/mentions Danny's daughter/etc.

That look in his eye. Man, that's something else entirely. You can physically feel Steve wishes Danny wouldn't have to resort to violence, and he wishes he could've done that himself. But here's Danny getting his knuckles bruised, and...

Well, fuck.

*wails*

49 заметок - опубликовано 9 ноября 2022 г.

#2

On s4 rewatch now.

Can we talk how persistent Danny is in trying to warn Steve that Cath is gonna break his heart eventually coz her ex is in the picture again?

Danny's trying to hard to put in Steve's head that he's gonna get hurt again. And honestly, rubbing the salt in the wound like that isn't quite Danny's style - with Steve, anyways. Steve is usually the one who pushes all the buttons, but in this situation I find them somehow reversing roles a bit. Yeah, Danny is always the voice of reason, but I also find it heartwrenching that Danno speaks from experience. And he doesn't want Steve to go down this road of despair. Not because he wouldn't be there for him-ofc, Danno will be because Steve's his friend and more. Beyond Danno's words you feel how he is already sorry for Steve and knows what's coming. And his heart breaks for Steve.

And even though it's wrapped in one of their cargument things, it doesn't make it less of a punch in the gut. Because you, the viewer, know as Danny does too that Steve will be eventually betrayed, and he'll be hurting, and you feel Danny's pain and fear that his friend, after losing so much, being through so much, is gonna get another hit from the person he trusts most.

51 заметка - опубликовано 19 ноября 2022 г.

Мой пост №1 в 2022

Honestly, no ship ever comes close to Mcdanno.

Alex and Scott have extraterrestrial chemistry, and I'm losing myself in it.

Who knew I'd be back to them, 12 years after they brought me here.

111 заметок - опубликовано 24 октября 2022 г.

Получите свой Обзор 2022 года в Tumblr →

#tumblr2022 #обзор года #мой обзор года в tumblr 2022 #мой обзор года в tumblr #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

[jack-is-lost]

BOY OH BOY AM GLAD YOU ASKED FOR HEADCANONS AND IMAGINES I GOT A WHOLE BUNCH OF EM *digs around in bag* HERE LOOK:

david's a horse girl and used to sneak out and ride grandpa emerson's horses

i have a headcanon that he was also a cowboy before he got turned so he actually knows how to get away with it

marko really likes video games and has stolen a bunch of arcade machines over the years

paul had the idea of stealing a chandelier from some stupid country club up north and bringing it to the cave

dwayne likes to swing from it and has also flung himself face-first into the opposite wall many times because of this

star is the one with the braincell like 50% of the time (david gets it the rest of the time) but as soon as she sees some harmless dumbfuckery she's all aboard

like for instance: star will see marko trying to paint a bunch of dicks on the ceiling of the hotel lobby and she'll be like "bitch why" and he'll be like "man idk" and then she'll grab the fuckin ladder and be like "move over shorty im painting tasteful nudes"

laddie just likes to collect bugs and other critters

and then put them in extremely weird places

grasshoppers in your jacket pockets? laddie

praying mantis in your leftovers? laddie

frog in your saddlebags? laddie

snake in your boot? laddie

iguana in the fountain? laddie

massive fuckoff spider in the bathtub? laddie

a whole-ass sea lion in your bed? laddie

michael just does normal teenager shit like accidentally hoard garbage and not move for seven hours a day

him and david also make out an obnoxious amount but that's a combined offense so it technically doesn't count

it is hella funny when they get interrupted while they're in really precarious spot tho

like they'll be making out upside-down and then paul or dwayne will just show up outta nowhere and be like "hey"

one of them ALWAYS falls

paul and marko are definitely both the "hey we're out of—stop screaming it's only me—we're out of milk" friends

david likes to serenade michael with never tear us apart by inxs

it's cute, but it can be REALLY inconvenient at times

michael: ow

david, his head doing a complete 180: WE COULD LIVE

michael: oh no

david: FOR A THOUSAND YEARS

michael: oh my god

david: BUT IF I HURT YOU

michael: YOU DIDN'T EVEN—

david: I'D MAKE WINE

michael: DAVID—

david: FROM YOUR TEARS

michael: DAVID IT'S JUST A BRUISE—

marko and paul cut off david's mullet while he was napping and he was so mad he got dwayne to ground them

david may be the leader, but dwayne is the mom

he's also the physically oldest, because even though david was the first turned by max, dwayne was 21 when he was turned, while david was 19.

paul and marko were both 18 when they were turned, making them tied for youngest.

david likes pop music but hell will freeze over before he admits it to the other boys

david: babe i need to tell you something

michael: sure, what's up?

david: promise you won't freak out, okay?

michael: …okay…?

david: i

david: i like pop music

michael:

michael: i mean i kinda figured since you hum "the edge of forever" all the time

david: i do what now

marko once found one of david's "secret" tapes and david almost had a heart attack

marko: yo david why is there a go-go's cassette by the boombox

david, sweating bullets: haha no idea hahahaaaaaaaa

this ask is kinda long so feel free to answer this privately, but i came up with these last year and put em in a google doc that i add to every now and then. i hope you enjoy these as much as i do!

Honestly, I've got nothing to add to this. It is all amazing and brought a smile to my face, sincerely. Especially them being little thieves in the night. A whole-ass arcade machine, really, Makro? I love that!

Plus, David and Michael having silly little interactions. That will always have a soft spot in my heart. I'm a sucker for it, dude, truly. Even if that means David is singing pop music — I might have choked on my soda while reading that.

Thank you for sharing these with me, dude! 💙🤣

#answering asks #a tad long sure but that is okay - these were all fun and amazing - the mental images playing in my head are precious to me now #albertas-worst-nightmare #tlb headcanon #tlb imagines #ask and you shall receive

[stephenjaymorrisblog]

The Good Guys with Guns Take a Coffee Break

Stephen Jay Morris

5/28/2022

©Scientific Morality

I was 11 years old in the year of 1966. I didn’t care about current events, just baseball scores and the top 10 songs on the record charts. There were a couple of news stories, however, that drew my attention that year. On August 1st, one was featured on the nightly news. Some Marine Vet had gone on a shooting spree at The University of Texas, from the top deck of its main building. His name was Charles Whitman. The night before, he’d murdered his mother and his wife. The next day, he brought a cache of weapons to the University. After he killed 14 innocent bystanders and wounded 31 others, the cops fatally shot him. I recall how this event really fired up my young imagination. For four years, my elementary school teachers and administration had terrified us with warnings about how the communist Russian air force might be dropping bombs on us at any moment, or how the USSR would be launching nuclear missiles! If that wasn’t enough, I began worrying, ‘What if a sniper gets on top of the school roof and takes pot shots at us during recess?’ That possibility scared the pants off of me!

I used to get bullied at school and I would fantasize about bringing a gun to school and blowing the kids away; with a machine gun, no less. One of the few friends I had told me, “Why don’t you just kick him in the nuts and run like hell?” But that sniper story stayed with me for decades.

Then, beginning in the 1990’s, stories of multiple mass shootings in schools started to surface. In 1999, there was one at Columbine High School in Colorado. More soon followed. After a while, it became almost routine. Victims’ survivors were filmed, laying wreaths of flowers at the massacre sites. Debates about gun control took center stage on radio and T.V. talk shows. Politicians made speeches. Network news would report on an incident for a week, and then simply return to news as usual. Author, Gore Vidal, called America, “The United States of Amnesia.” Oh, how correct he was. Tragically, mass school shootings have continued into the 21st Century.

Fast forward to May of 2022. It was a heavy news month. First it was, “The War in Ukraine,” then a mass shooting in Buffalo, New York, where some White kid went into a local supermarket and shot up the store. He shot 13 people, 11 of whom were Black, 10 of them killed. Subsequent news reports revealed the shooter described himself as a fascist, a White supremacist, and an anti-Semite, based on the 180 page document he’d posted on social media. This 18-year-old male drove three and a half hours (over 250 miles) to do his horrific deed, which he’d carefully planned for months. His resident community is lily white. Now, to the subject at hand.

On May 23, 2022, some 18-year-old, Hispanic youth shot and killed 21 people, including two teachers and 19 children, ages 9, 10, and 11, at Robb Elementary School in Uvalde, Texas. He wounded 17 others. He carried this out after he’d initially shot his grandmother in the face. Sound familiar? Reporters later learned that there were as many as 19 cops in the hallway outside the two classrooms, for about an hour, who did nothing, as they heard multiple bullets fired inside.

One factor particularly glaring to me is that, to date, no one has addressed the obvious racial aspect of this story: the majority of the 19 victims—all but two—were Hispanic. It is a well-known fact that White Texans have a bigoted dislike of Brown people. (The 1956 movie, “Giant,” highlights this issue. It was James Dean’s last.) But, back to my point. Why did the all those cops stand idly by while the massacre was occurring, not moving an inch to try and stop it? Because they didn’t care! When a stark, crazy, Latino is shooting and killing little Hispanic kids, who cares?! You can be sure that, had those children been Aryan, the cops would have been right on it, guns blazing, in seconds! The media couldn’t hide the racial component of the Buffalo killings. But, as for this story? Nothing yet.

Have you ever seen a Conservative protesting against the Nazis or the KKK? Neither have I. The Klan and the American Nazis will brag, without reservation to you, about their hatred for non-White people. They are blatant racists. Conservatives are latent racists and are passive/aggressive about it. They will have a campaign of talking points proclaiming how America is not a racist country. Then a shooting will occur and they will turn it around, proclaiming, “It’s the Left’s fault!” Excuse me, I mean “It’s the woke’s fault!” You hear them condemn “Communism,” but never “Fascism.” Why? Maybe it’s because they are Fascists themselves. If they do condemn Fascism, they redirect their political definition and call them “Leftists.” Dinesh D’Souza does that shit. Who is he? Go to any 7/11 convenience store in California; you may see him as a cashier.

So, when will these shootings end? Unless we get new Constitution, or we have a workers’ revolution, NEVER!

Below is a photo of Charles Whitman. The shooter at Texas University 1966

#gun violence #gunman #uvalde #stephenjaymorris #poets on tumblr #american politics #autobiography #nra #anarchism

[idkkkena]

(this tuesday)

I am having a very very hard time accepting the fact that I have to grow up. I suppose it happens to everyone. I am slowly realising that I am still very much young and I don’t need to have everything figured out rn. Wrote this while dealing with it. Props to my therapist for helping me get over whatever this is.

you spend your entire life waiting for 18: a promise of sudden maturity, freedom and growth.

that is technically not true.

18 hit me in the strangest way possibile, the entire year being a whirlwind of emotions.

so many things happened: some of them made me feel so much, then i felt nothing at all, and then i started feeling again, slowly. all of which happened in a year.

admittedly a short time, but somehow i was ready.

after all, you prepare all your life for 18, you already know your life is going to change. maybe you don’t know how, but you do know something is going to happen and it’s going to rock your boat so much that you’ll feel it deep in your core.

i foolishly expected to feel everything the moment the clock hit midnight on my 18th birthday, but even in my disappointment i knew it wasn’t going to happen like that.

my 18th year of life, was both the best and worst year of my life so far. and yet it was everything i had imagined i would feel at 18.

the happiness comes first: that euphoric feeling of finally being an adult, of finally being allowed to take most decisions for yourself.

then comes the realisation: at some point you come face to face with the fact that, even if you are an adult on paper, your obligations as someone’s child remain still -you still live with your parents, you still have to do what they approve of, you still have to behave-.

then comes fear: the realisation has finally settled in and now you’re scared that you won’t get to be your parents’ child for much longer, you’re scared because you spent 18 years of your life worrying about one single year, and now all of your future stands in front of you and you have no idea what to do.

but then comes 19.

no one prepares you for 19. it’s like that one relationship who is totally out of character for you, that has all of your friends worried and on the verge of their seat, absolutely murdering their poor nails.

19 is exactly like that.

it’s something no one prepared you for, no movies, no tv shows, no books- they all write about being 18 and fresh out of childhood, never about 19 and fresh off of a traumatic flight to reality check town!- because everyone wants to know what happens at 18 but no one wants to know how to deal with it at 19.

i spent my 19th birthday trying so hard to get rid of the feelings 18 brought to me.

fear, so much fear of what 19 was actually going to be like. of the sadness and worry that it would bring. because that was all i knew, it was all 19 was to me: the next step, the next stop, your whole future in such a small number.

but then i actually started living my 19th year of life.

i started to see all the work i had done at 18 come together. all the worries i had about my future and my present dissipating, day by day. without them i realised 19 is just…19. you’re just a year older, admittedly a year wiser.

now i’m 19 and i can tell you that 18 is the most beautiful beginning.

18 is when you start realising you’re your own person, when you start to see yourself as a single individual.

18 is when you open the door to a new start.

but 19… 19 is when you stop realising, and start knowing. knowing that actually you don’t know anything there is to know about life and what it is supposed to look like. you don’t know how next year is going to be, you don’t know what next year is supposed to be like, because no one ever told you anything about 19!

19 is when you grow and realise life is not a bullet journal but a photo-book, you just have to figure it out without planning it.

after all, we already spend our entire life preparing for 18, and maybe it is okay. prepare for 18 and figure out 19, and everything that comes after.

prepare for 18 and re-learn to live at 19.

prepare for 18 and live the rest of your life.

prepare for 18 and cheer a little louder when midnight comes, because then comes 19.

[glitterdustcyclops]

you know what, just for funsies, because i'm feeling sassy, here's a mostly-complete list of fucked up shit my ex has done or said to me over the LITERAL DECADE that i have known her

(for clarification, we were friends for a decade, i had a crush on her but we only dated for less than a week two years ago, the entire thing was a ridiculous disaster)

tell me to my face that she loved a mutual friend of ours more than me, and that she would totally take a bullet for her but would only "probably" do the same for me. she was really adamant about this, for some reason

when i brought up the fact that i was jealous of their friendship (GEE I WONDER WHY) she proceeded to get annoyed with me for being jealous and making her feel bad about having other friends

ghost me constantly

tell me she loved me (platonically) after she had dumped me

ignoring me for years and then waltzing into my twitter DMs whenever she wanted to complain about some dumb shit someone else she was friends with said to her

when i first met her she was two years older than me so she was 21 when i was 19 and my friends and i asked her to buy some alcohol for us which we paid her for (which i admit was asking her to commit an actual crime but it was vegas and that was just kinda...normal behavior lmao) and she proceeded to tell me, years later, that she actually got so anxious about buying the alcohol that SHE SHOPLIFTED IT (????) AND JUST KEPT THE MONEY (?!?!?!!!!)

invited me to stay with her to help her run the artist's alley for an anime convention in vegas (after i'd moved to utah) and then proceeded to ghost me the entire weekend to hang out with other friends, including the dude she wanted to sleep with (who would go on to be her long-term partner lmao)

when i kind of lost my shit about being ghosted non-stop by the woman i was in love with who i was doing a major favor for and called her out she got mad at ME and said i was being unreasonable about it

that time she tried to dom me at 4 am in a zoom chat while she was drunk as hell and hadn't asked for prior consent and was IN A MONOGAMOUS RELATIONSHIP WITH SOMEONE ELSE

how she said her partner would be cool with her dating me because relationships between girls "don't count"

THE FACT THAT SHE DID NOT TELL ME THE REASON HER PARTNER WAS NOT, IN FACT, COOL WITH HER DATING ME IS BECAUSE SHE HAD ALREADY CHEATED ON HIM

generally treating all of our conversations as opportunities for her to vent all her emotions and then ghost me the second i needed any kind of reciprocity or validation

completely forget about the fact that i already confessed to having a crush on her (after the aforementioned anime convention incident, when i couldn't stop sobbing because i was DOWN HILARIOUSLY BAD)

there's probably more i'm forgetting but just. wow.

#shut up chocolate #personal #again: my ex was kind of a dick

[sumsytee]

THE MURDER OF THE GIRL IN A PINK DRESS

She was last spotted running down the stairs of her apartment. Like she was late for something.

It was 2019, February something. Too late at night for innocent favors.

Her roommates ask where she's going

She braves a guilty lie. An innocent lie.

She was kind, she made art, she never locked doors, and she always baked cupcakes.

She was naive, wore too much makeup, and smiled too much.

She was the kind of girl to laugh at things that aren't funny and dance around her apartment in her underwear.

She was the kind of girl that wears pink dresses.

I am not kind. I do not dance.

I have a gun in my purse and my keys between my fingers.

Not the kind of girl that wears pink dresses.

Not the kind of girl with the safety on.

She was 19. It was February something, but I can't remember

That February was cold.

- Was it a weekday?

I remember the steep driveway and the shadow from the garage door closing.

- Had Valentine's day passed yet?

How the carpet felt and how the beer tasted funny and when hum of the AC kicking on made her jump.

The sound of a deadbolt locking.

How straight and white his teeth were. His hand on her arm. His breath in her ear. The feeling of being trapped inching it's way from behind her neck and around her throat-

She deserved it you know. She brought it on herself.

She was kind and stupid and

naive and she made art without trying and

she drove there willingly and she

smiled at him too much and she

Her fault. All her fault. Hers.

I tell her as much when

I hang her pink dress in my closet.

I forget about them for 4 years.

At 23 I forgive myself for it.

On a couch in an office building off North Conception St.

It is Thursday, March 30th, 2023. 5:34 PM.

I do not know where he is now.

....deny,deny,deny....

A kind lady sits on the couch across from me and smiles a sad smile when I confess to murder at 4 minutes past a half session.

My hair is curly now.

I look in the mirror and

Wince when i care whether or not it looks pretty.

"I miss her" 5:09PM

"How did she die?" 5:10PM

"I don't want to talk about it" 5:18PM

She gave me so choice. She was too sweet. Too trusting. She loved strangers and did kind things for no reason. She cared about eating organic and she drove me there willingly. she wanted

5:24PM

To see the world. She hurt me. She was compassionate

and bold and fearless and

put her trust in the wrong person. She

woke up early before school to straighten her hair.

She trusted the wrong person and did not deserve it. I did it anyway she embarrassed me so

5:34PM

"I killed her myself....

..She wore pink dresses and- i killed her for it."

"It's not your fault"

Yes it is. I killed her. She made me kill her.

It's all your fault

She hurt me. She didn't give us a choice.

It's not your fault

It it my fault. She's the victim and I'm the criminal.

He may be a predator.

He may have put a gun in my hand,

But I pulled the trigger.

"It was not your fault."

I put a bullet in my head for his crimes anyway

The 50$ shoved in my bra chafed the whole way home.

I, she, me, her, us. Our. My.

6:00PM

The ringing of church bells reaches me from two streets over as I make my way through the parking lot.

I'm trying and failing not to

Think about it.

Still reeling as i unlock the door.

But Easter Sunday is a week away and

My mom wants to match with me and take pictures by the steeple

Thinking about that makes me smile.

I put my car in drive and pull a metaphorical bullet out of my forehead.

Sunday, April 9th, 2023 10:34AM

A nurse and an ex-murderess are spotted running up the stairs of a downtown church. Running Late.

They wear matching dresses and share

Gold jewelry

And curly hair

And guilty smiles

We took so long getting ready that we will miss the greeting, miss the handshaking and the singing.

We are kind, and soft, and strong

We carry guns, safety on

And look damn good in pink.

YEAR UNKNOWN TIME UNKNOWN

I hope the sun is setting on a Sunday and

I hope you've been forgiven

Instead of thinking about how beautiful my mother looked or how

Many more fine china brunches i had left with my grandmother

I was thinking of you. That first Pink Easter.

I did not think you deserved that.

Forgiveness is a funny thing.

I know if i ask God for the strength to forgive

you,

He can give it to me

So I don't ask.

I swallow once and pray for Hope instead.

I think I'll wear pink to your funeral,

But I promise to search for your face when i get to Heaven.

I Hope to find you there.

#bad poetry #depression #victim #trauma dump #SA #SAsurvivor