#death-soldier

[brucie-baby]

the fact that alfred was the one to put up jason's memorial is so important to me

[abla-soso]

Look at this IDF soldier destroying a children's toy shop with such rabid rage.

The hate they feel towards Palestinian kids is demonic.

[overlyspecificmcrmemes]

logging off of the internet cause i won’t be able to join in on the chaos of buying tickets this time

[evillesbianvillain]

[coolade]

Tf2 Family Guy Death Pose for your everyday needs

BLU version here

[gracepureautumn]

“Who the hell is Bucky?”

[ruthytwoshakes]

saw this post and immediately thought of the blus :].

I headcannon that Blu Spy raised Scout on his own, surrogacy baby maybe?? hey that rhymes. There’s only one Ma so he’s half brothers with the red scout,, thanksgiving is awkward.

Also some freedom fries,, , as a treat

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Death Wish 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of crime, violence/abuse and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Bucky Barnes

Part of the mob drabbles au

Summary: you're desperate for a way out of your life and you ask a powerful man for help (plus!reader)

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Photo Inspo

Adrenaline buzzes in your ears and sears through your veins. You shouldn’t be here. Yet this place is no more treacherous than your home. Thing’s can’t get much worse so you may as well try to make them better. 

Or maybe you’re so desperate for it to end, that you don’t care how. 

You stand before the two men in their dark suits. They mutter as if you can’t hear them, “Warren’s girl.” 

“One of them,” the other intones. 

“Boss said not to bother.” 

You sway, your hands twined up behind your back. You expect to be turned away but you’re not ready for it. You chew the tip of your tongue. 

“I can wait,” you say. 

The don’t acknowledge you. They turn to block you out with their shoulders and lower their voices. One glances over his shoulder at you, Walker? Or something. 

“Your daddy send you?” He asks. 

You shake your head. You should probably lie but you’re no good at that. The throbbing in your swollen lip assures you of that. 

“So why should we let you in to see the boss? You out here at midnight looking like a tramp,” he challenges as he faces you again. 

“Hey, she looks like she’s had it bad enough. Don’t be a dick,” the other man reproaches. “Look, sweetheart,” he steps forward. “Man’s busy. With important business. Whatever you’re looking for, ask your daddy.” 

You could sob. Your father has no idea you’re there. If he did... if he knew why... 

Your shoulders slump and you hang your head in defeat. Why did you think this would work? It’s a fantasy. That same escapist wish you make every night when you cry yourself to sleep. 

You close your eyes and see Adrienne’s teary-eyes and Kitty’s helpless expression. You can’t let your sisters down. You can’t stand to see them suffer any longer. You can take it all, but it’s seeing him raise his hand to them that guts you. 

“I need to see him,” you raise your head. “I can wait.” 

You say you can but if your father realises you’re gone, if he finds out where you’ve gone, or even manages to guess why... 

Walker sighs. He elbows the other man. “Go tell him so can come back and tell her to scram on his orders.” 

The other man returns a dark look but goes inside. You hug yourself and shiver in the night air. You have only your quarter-zip sweater and a pair of silky pajama pants. You’re not surprised the men can barely keep from laughing at you. 

You wait. It takes longer than you expect. If anything, you would think they would only pretend to tell the boss. That’s what they all do. They lie. They ignore you. They just don’t care. So why are you here? Why would this go any other way? 

Before you can wave the white flag, the door opens. 

“In,” the man holds the door as he steps out.  

You flinch and Walker sneers at his partner in confusion. You’re just as surprised. The other man huffs. 

“Well, he said you got five minutes, so get.” 

You waver on your feet then scurry forward. You step inside the dark brick building, another man waiting just inside. He’s silent as he points you down the hall. He directs you with the terse gestures; upstairs, to the left, around another corner.  

You stop before a door with another duo standing vigil by the door posts. The left one knocks, tilts his head to listen, the opens it. You’re pointed inside.  

Your nerves flurry and wrap you up in a billowing storm. What are you doing? That question doesn’t matter. It’s too late. 

You drag your feet inside. The door slams at your back. The room is dim, lit only by a lamp with a glass shade on the large desk across from you. Behind that, sit a man. The man. Bucky Barnes. The boss. The king. 

He sits with his elbow bent over the armrest of his chair. He watches you calmly. You stand in silence by the door. He beckons you closer with two fingers. 

“Can’t see you back there, doll.” He says. 

You hold your breath and come forward. You gulp as you stop within a foot of the carved desk. Your eyes scour the vintage print of the wallpaper and the wooden paneling. This place is steeped in history. 

He raises his hand, cradling his face as he brings to fingers to his lips. He watches you patiently. Waiting. You stare back at him. You’ve never seen him this close. You don’t even know if your father has. 

“Why are you here?” He asks at last. 

Your eyes narrow on the gold sheen on his pinky. It’s the only safe place to look. You feel like you’ll melt in the blaze of his oceanic irises. You exhale. 

“I need someone dead.” 

He doesn’t answer. Your words dangle in the air as he mulls them. You purse your lips and wince at the pain in the split along the swollen flesh. 

“A man. The one who did that to you?” He sits up straight and points at you. You follow the glint of his ring. You nod. “Low life. Let me guess, daddy doesn’t know you been sneaking around.” 

You shake your head, “he doesn’t know I’m here. Or that I’m asking.” You take another breath as your eyes water. You bring your hand up to your cheek as it pulses. Your father’s knuckles left a nasty welt. “Because it’s him. He’s the one who did this. And I want him dead.” 

He scoffs, more amused than disbelieving. 

“Warren’s a soldier of mine. You're asking me to off him?” 

“I’m begging,” you finally make yourself look him in the eye. His is formidable man. Dark hair, dark beard, a touch of grey here and there. Even at this hour, he wears a nice suit and sits with authority. “Please, my sisters--” 

“And how are you and your sisters going to make up for his cut. He brings in money. What can you give me?” 

“You can take everything. We just want to be free,” you say. 

He clucks, “what he has now is nothing compared to a lifetime of what he can get.” 

You lower your lashes. That’s it. At least he didn’t laugh because you almost did when you said it out loud. Your father isn’t going to die. He’s so rancid, even death doesn’t want him. He’s not human, he’s a curse. And this man you’re asking for mercy, he’s the same kind. 

“Sorry for the bother,” you eke out. “I was mistaken.” 

“So you were,” he agrees. “Go home. Put some ice on it.” 

It’s like another punch in the face. You nod, “thank you, sir.” 

“You can go,” he dismisses. 

“Yes, sir.” You put your head down and drag your foot back. 

“Ah,” he tuts. 

Your eyes flick up. He extends his hand across the desk. Right. He is still who he is. You step closer as he holds his hand steady. You bow down and kiss the sigil on his ring. An outdated and demeaning gesture. 

Before you can stand straight, his large hand frames your chin. He pushes your head up as your eyes round. You stare at him as his gaze drifts down to your neck. The bruises by the zipper of your sweater tingle. 

“You were never here,” he lets you go. 

“Understood,” you retreat, “sorry again for wasting your time.” 

[illustratus]

Death as General Rides a Horse on a Battlefield by Edgar Bundy

[crowley-anthony]

#lokius + other idiots i ship

[bizarrelittlemew]

Jim, treetop assassin 🔪

[themilfking]

This is so fucking vile

[bandcampgremlin]

bitches be like 'hes just like me fr' and he's committed countless atrocities

[starnana7]

twink death😞💔💔

dilf birth😍😏😏

[loveisanimaginarydagger3000]

The Soldier Of Death (10)- Nightmares

Natasha Romanoff X Super Soldier Reader 18+

Summary: Soldat Smerti. The Soldier of Death. You were the perfect weapon: loyal, obedient, and merciless, or so Hydra thought. What happens when these traits are put to the test? Your captivity in the Avenger's tower and the presence of a redhead makes you realise you didn't have to be a monster. The question was though; Did Hydra make you the monster or were you always one?

This fic will contains dark themes. Please read these warnings before starting any of these chapters: graphic descriptions of murder, violence, gore and torture, heavy angst, mental issues.

Please consider these warnings before reading

Word Count: 3.7k

General Masterlist | The Soldier Of Death Masterlist

Specific Chapter Warning: Dark thoughts, flashbacks/nightmares of experiments and murder, graphic descriptions of violence and gore.

—

A knock at your door snapped you out of your thoughts, blinking your eyes as your gaze flickered across your new room, briefly remembering where you were as you had zoned out for a considerable amount of time, still adjusting to the enormous change.

"Y/n?" Natasha's voice called gently from the other side of the door, an odd weight taking over your chest as a small pang of guilt invaded you, the thoughts from earlier haunting you as a mocking chuckle seemed to linger at the back of your mind, the sight of her lifeless eyes staring back at you unable to be erased. Your eyes flickered down to your hands that trembled slightly, every time you blinked the image flickering between your normal hands and blood stained ones, the darkness incessant on tormenting you, determined to ensure you suffered.

Show her the real you, let's see if she still comes crawling back to check on us.

This was the real 'you', you argued back, still refusing to accept that the darkness was truly a part of you, desperate to believe it was something Hydra put into your head and not your own sick and twisted mind.

Stop lying to yourself. You crave to hurt others, to kill others. It's only a matter of time before she sees that too.

Another knock helps drown out the sinister words, your head snapping over to the door, noticing how it opens slightly, Natasha calling your name again.

"Y/n? Can I come in?" she asks, part of you screaming no, not wanting to put her in danger while the other part of you wants her to stay with you, to help numb your conflicted state and offer a peaceful escape for a little while.

"Sure," you answer with a hesitant voice, the spy immediately picking up on your discomfort as she enters the room, her enticing green scanning over the room to see how you'd changed a few things. She noticed how the mirror in the large room was covered with a sheet, your bathroom door shut and partly blocked by the bedside table, the sofa having moved closer to the window where you were currently sat curled up, your hands hugging your knees to your chest as you stared ahead at the view. Her brows furrowed at how small you seemed, her mouth opening and closing as she was unsure of what to say, not too sure as to what caused your sudden switch in demeanour.

"Is everything alright?" she murmurs, cautiously moving to sit on the other end of the sofa you were on, observing your reaction. Your fingers started to drum against your legs in an anxious manner, your gaze still fixated on the view outside but she could tell you were watching her in your peripheral vision.

From what you could see, you noticed how the gentle glow from the sun that streamed through the window caused her red hair to appear more vivid, her skin highlighted beautifully by the light which caused it to look impossibly soft and smooth, the green of her eyes also popping as the light caused them to look even more emerald if that were possible.

"Yeah," you sigh out, aware of how obvious the lie seemed, not too bothered at the moment as you didn't want to tell her the truth, to scare her away and show her that side of you. You would never want her to see that side of you.

"You know you can talk to me, right?" she almost whispers, her eyes trained on you rather than the spectacle that was outside, the sun starting to set which was why she was originally here.

"I know," you murmur back, risking a look towards her, noticing the tenderness behind her eyes, the gentle and soft smile that she was offering to you, nothing to indicate fear or hate present on her face. A warmth replaced the odd weight that had settled in your chest, getting lost in her enchanting green as she let the gaze linger, your eyes eventually flickering away as the darkness seeps back into your thoughts.

Let me talk to her, let's see what happens then

They snickered, your jaw clenching at their mocking tone, having a vague idea of what they would do if you lost control, the desire to protect her encouraging you to continue the tiresome battle of your mind.

When you remain quiet for a little longer, the room being enveloped in silence, Natasha speaks up again. She could sense there was something going on in your mind, just not sure as to what, the redhead longing to help you be able to be free of whatever Hydra did to you, just wanting you to be able to be the real you. Not their weapon.

"Do you still want to see the sunset from the roof?" she asks in a soft murmur, not wanting to push you and make you feel as though you had to come as, although she was eager to help distract you from whatever war was going on inside you, she knew that today would have been a lot, the earlier incident of the medical tests and training along with the adjustment to everything going to have taken its toll on you.

The room once again was wrapped up in a silence as you thought over her request, the wait so long Natasha thought you may not have heard her. When her mouth opened to ask again, you responded,

"Perhaps... Another night," you whisper, looking at her with an apologetic glint in your eyes as you could tell she was just trying to help, that odd weight stomping out the warmth as disappointment took over. Earlier, you were excited to go with her but now you felt too on edge to truly enjoy it, your expression conveying your previous excitement.

Natasha doesn't take your words to heart, smiling a little as you tried to make your rejection sound as polite as possible, your words also giving her hope as you had suggested another time, your gaze flickering down to her lips as they tugged into a slightly wider smile as a small one grew on your face.

"Another night," she whispers back, her eyes holding an indecipherable glint in them as she slowly pushes herself off of the sofa to make her way back to the door, pausing and turning to look back at you. "Enjoy the rest of your night Y/n," she says with a soft smile, her tone gentle and soothing before she leaves the room, closing the door and leaving you on your own.

"You too, Natasha," you murmur back despite knowing she couldn't hear you, gaze lingering on the door before you lose yourself to your thoughts again, trying to unpick your fractured mind.

***

A sob escaped you as your veins practically glowed blue as the serum was pumped into you, fingers prying into the table you were on, denting the metal as pain coursed through you violently. A harsh whimper was ripped out of you as another needle followed the last, the restraints on your hands and feet stopping you from wriggling away from the metal needle as it slid into another vein, another wave of agony washing over your body as you could do nothing but cry out in pain. Your voice was hoarse from the last few rounds of serum, the screaming and incessant pain leaving you exhausted after each trial, this one feeling different from the last as a surge of energy seemed to consume you.

"Stay still Soldat," gritted out a scientist but you ignored their comment, your fist pulling against the restraint, snapping it with the amount of force you used. His eyes widened along with the other scientist in the room as your other hand effortlessly shattered the other handcuff, the second man running quickly to the door to escape when he found it locked, his hand wrapped around the metal handle and desperately pulling on it, knowing that he would need to leave now if he wanted to live.

You blocked out the desperate pleas from the other man as he called out to the other guards nearby, your gaze locked on the other scientist who stared at you in horror and awe, the knowledge that the serum worked again piquing your general's interest who watched behind the one way glass.

"Soldat," he trailed off while staggering back, the reality of the situation settling in his mind as you broke free of your last restraints, your eyes glossed over with darkness and malice. "Soldat-" he was interrupted by your body tackling his to the ground, the days, the weeks, the months, the years of torture and pain he inflicted on you fuelling your actions as you lost control, wanting to rip the man apart and break him.

The other scientist could only look back in pure terror as an animalistic scream was ripped out of his co-worker, your body pinning him to the ground while your hands roughly snapped the bones in his arms as he tried to pry you off of him.

"General!" The man at the door screamed, begging the man to let him be free as your hands went to the other's head, eyes holding nothing but darkness in them as your fingers pressed into his skull, killing him in the same way your general would order you to kill your victims. As usual, the bone started to strain under your thumbs, sobs leaving the man beneath you until they were silenced by a deafening crack. A sigh left you when his heart soon stopped beating, your ears zoning in on how it slowly stopped while you pulled your fingers out of what was left of his head, crimson oozing onto the concrete floor as you wiped what was left on your hands on his white lab coat, moving to stand and face the other man.

Nothing but pure rage and anger filled you as the man turned to look at you with fear in his eyes, his back pressed against the door as there was nowhere left for him to go.

They made you like this. He made you like this. It was only fair that he suffered like you did.

A gasp left you as you woke up from the vivid nightmare, your chest rising and falling as your eyes frantically searched around the room, trying to calm yourself down. You pulled the blanket up further on your body as you moved to sit on the sofa instead, not wanting to sleep in the bed as the mattress was far too soft, the feeling unnerving you as you were used to sleeping on something solid, your mind still reeling from the memory. You squeezed your eyes shut for a moment but all you could feel was the warmth that enveloped your arm as your fist went straight through the other man, fingers searching their way through flesh and blood until they reached his heart, ready to rip it out and watch as his body slumped to the ground.

They deserved it

The darkness said, their voice lacking the usual mocking tone as your hands covered your face, mind thinking for a split second that you could feel the blood from the man smearing on your face as your fingers moved to cover your eyes. You didn't bother to say or think anything back to them, simply trying your best to clear your mind, the attempt futile.

You knew you weren't getting back to sleep after the nightmare, your body itching for something other to do than drown in your thoughts, the only idea being to go back down to the training room. You were a little scared to leave your room in the middle of the night, not too sure if you'd be punished or not, so you made sure your movements were stealthy, footsteps light as you navigate your way around the compound until you reach the room, noticing how quiet and empty it was.

You didn't bother flicking on the lights as the small windows present illuminated the room softly, enough for you to see where things were to let your pent up frustrations out.

It was a cycle of cardio and weights, neither seeming to help tire you out as you either lifted the heavy bar over and over again or ran for an hour on end at a ridiculous pace, the enhanced stamina seeming to be endless as nothing seemed to tire you out, your mind wanting to sleep but body desperate to stay awake.

You didn't realise how long you were at the training room until Clint came over to you with a bottle of water, his face calm and containing a smile, hiding his concerns as he could tell you had been in here for most of the night.

"Thirsty?" he asked, to which you nodded a little nervously, not keeping his gaze as you finished the bottle in almost record speed, a pant leaving you as you realised how much strenuous exercise you had put your body through. "Everything alright?" he asked and you wished he wouldn't as you didn't want to have to talk about it.

"I just needed a distraction," you reply vaguely as you knew saying 'nothing' wouldn't have been a good enough answer, not wanting him to press for any more information.

The archer saw how you shifted from foot to foot, your head turning a little at all the sounds coming from the rest of the training room, your ears picking up all the noise as you weren't utterly consumed by your thoughts. An idea popped into his mind as he saw your eyes scan the room, his hands digging into his pockets in search of something.

"Try these," he says while handing you some earphones, your brows furrowing as you had never used them before. He chuckles a little at the confused expression written across your face, his hands motioning for you to put them in your ears before his hand pulls out his phone from his pocket. "Listening to music always helps distract me," he explains before he plays the song that was already loaded, the 80s hit causing your eyes to watch him puzzled at the strange noise, your mind noticing how it helped block out everything in the background without your thoughts taking over.

Clint watched with a small smug smile as you seemed to focus on the song, helping distract you from whatever was bothering you, as Nat came to him last night to talk about you, the archer giving her the 'best friend opinion' of the situation as she was unsure of how to help you and a little worried.

"Better?" He asked once the song had finished, a smile subtly creeping onto your lips as you actually rather enjoyed the song, nodding to him before moving to take the earphone out, the man stopping you, "Keep them, I'll play the rest of the songs for you now, but then later I'll sort you out a phone and make you a playlist." The words go straight over your head but you nod anyway, thanking him quietly before doing a few more rounds of running on the treadmill, hoping to tire your body out enough that you would sleep later without any issues.

***

The next few weeks seemed to be a constant cycle of waking up to a nightmare and sneaking off down to the training room, the ear phones a necessity to you now as you slowly but surely learnt how to use the music app on the phone, Clint's suggested playlist playing in the device as you worked out every day, still unable to get a good night's sleep. You felt guilty at how distant you had been to others, especially Natasha as you still hadn't gone to the rooftop with her yet, but you made a move to stop that as Wanda approached you in the kitchen.

Your teeth sank into the apple that you took from the fruit bowl, hoping no one would see you as the open space was empty until the young witch walked in, a mission on her mind.

"Hey Y/n," her tone casual as she walked up to you, moving to go into the fridge instead, your mind on guard as you were still not used to not having to ask permission for stuff.

"Hey," you reply back with a shy tone, still a little cautious of the witch after she invaded your thoughts, the brunette understanding of your nervousness. You took another bite of the red apple, the crunch seeming to fill the silence that brewed in the room, Wanda moving to lean against a countertop as she watched you sit awkwardly on one of the stools.

"I want to apologise to you," she says after a moment, her fingers playing with the ends of her long sleeve shirt, "I'm sorry that I went into your thoughts and made you relieve those... events."

You don't look at her as brief flashes of what you remembered filtered through your mind, your eyes fixated on the half eaten apple in your hands.

"Did...Did you see them too?" you asked, wanting to confirm your beliefs about her powers.

"I did," she quietly confesses, your eyes slowly moving over to look at her, noticing the genuine apologetic tone of her voice, "I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry you had to see them too," you murmur, taking her by surprise, her brows raising a little as she watches your form seem to slump in disappointment. "Thank you for apologising, I'm going to head back to my room now," you say, wanting to leave the conversation as swiftly as possible but her words stop you, your head turning back to look at the witch.

"Wait," she says to stop you leaving, "We're having a movie night tonight, the whole team. I was wondering if you wanted to join us?" Her eyes hold a hopeful glint in them, your mouth opening and closing just as quick, unsure of what to say.

"I don't know," you trail off, her smiling a little as it wasn't a straight up no.

"It will be fun, I promise you," she says, excitement seeping into her tone as she had gotten to choose the film for tonight, "I know it's hard to get used to but, we're a family here, and we want to get to know you better." The cheerful and optimistic look in her eyes wins you over, the idea of being with everyone a little daunting but the thought of familiar green eyes and red hair help calm you down.

"I'll join you," you say, earning a wide smile from the young woman, the sight inevitably causing one to grow on your face before you say goodbye, making your way back to your room.

Too busy thinking about the movie later, you bump into someone who rounds the corner, a recognisable shade of red entering your vision.

"Sorry," you both say at the same time, her voice a little breathless as she came straight from the training room after her workout.

You seemed to get lost in a trance as you take in her outfit, the simple sports bra and leggings occupying your thoughts while your eyes focus on a bead of sweat that drips down her neck in a tantalising slow motion, the sigh causing a different warm feeling to take over you, the sensation a lot lower than your chest.

"Y/n?" she asks, a hint of teasing to her tone as you snap out of it, red tinting your cheeks as you realise you were staring.

"Sorry," your tone shy as you mumble the apology. "I don't know what came over me," you say honestly, missing the subtle smirk that took over the redhead's lips, moving past her to go towards your room, confused as to when she followed you. You stood frozen by your door as she went to the room next to you, her hand opening the door before looking over to you, her brows furrowed as you stared at her once more.

"What?" She asked out in a chuckle, the smile never leaving her lips as she was glad to talk to you again, noticing how you distanced yourself recently.

"Have you always been in the room next to me?" you ask, unaware that anyone was near your room, the thought of her hearing you wake up after a nightmare entering your mind.

"Yes," she says, her smile dropping a little but still present as she could see your hesitation on whether to ask a question. She remained patient with you, moving to lean on the side of the door frame, her arms crossing over her chest in a relaxed manner.

"Have... Have you ever heard me during the night?" your voice was laced with nerves as you didn't want people to know, a sympathetic look taking over her face.

"Why, what have you been doing in the night, alone?" she teased, trying to lighten the mood but the innuendo goes straight over your head, your brows furrowing at her words. Her eyes soften as she looks at you, nodding to answer your question as you look down a little embarrassed.

"Sorry if I woke you up," you mutter, not meeting her gaze.

"You can come to me if you have a nightmare," she says with a gentle voice, reassuring you that she wouldn't mind, "We don't have to talk about it, I just...I don't want you to think you're alone. We're here for you. I'm here for you." You meet her eyes after her words, offering her a shy smile before opening your own door and looking back at her, unsure of how to feel at the care she was showing you.

"Thank you Natasha," your tone is filled with appreciation as you smile at her, a warmth enveloping the redhead's chest at your softening features before you enter the room, leaving her to stare at the spot you were just at, unable to stop thinking about your smile. 

[pastlivesandpurplepuppets]

[...]that movie was an emotional roller coaster for me. I was called in as a consultant on some scenes, and it was tough. It brought everything back, especially later on when we all got to go to France for the premiere. Skip’s family was there. What’s so interesting is that the actor who I became closest with was Richard Speight Jr., the guy who played Skip in the miniseries. The first time he called me, he was politely asking me questions about Skip so he could better portray him, and damned if I didn’t hang up on him. Not because he’d done or said anything wrong. Because I just couldn’t take it. But as the filming began and we got to know each other, Richard became a great support to me, this kid half a century younger than me. Never made me feel like some sentimental old fool. Told me he understood my emotions. Said it was OK, that I was emotional because Skip and I had meant so much to each other and that was a good thing, not a bad thing. That meant the world to me. You have to understand that it took me nearly forty years before I could look at our 1942 company picture and not break into tears, particularly if it was December or January.

~ Don Malarkey