cold corpses

USA. Ohio. Kent. May 4, 1970. Mary Ann Vecchio, a 14 year-old student, kneels beside Jeffrey Milley who’d been shot by the National Guard. Though the photo that first circulated turned out to be manipulated, this is the original, un-doctored version. This picture won the Pulitzer Prize.

The Kent State shootings occurred at Kent State University and involved the shooting of college students by the Ohio National Guard on May 4, 1970. National Guardsmen fired into a group of unarmed students, killing four and wounded another nine—some marching against the Vietnam War and American invasion of Cambodia, some walking by or observing the protest from a distance. 

Guardsmen had on the previous day used tear gas to disperse protesters and, by May 4th, rallies were banned and classes resumed. But 2,000 people gathered in what quickly turned into confrontation. Tear gas and bayonets were met with rocks and verbal taunts, which were met with more than 60 rounds of gunfire. In 1974, all charges were dropped against eight of the Guardsmen involved. There were 28 guards who admitted to firing on top of the hill, 25 of these guards fired 55 rounds into the air and into the ground, 2 of the guards fired .45cal pistol shots, 2 into the crowd, and 3 into the air, one guard fired birdshot into the air. The guardsmen fired 61 rounds over a period of 13 seconds, killing four students and wounding nine others, one of whom suffered permanent paralysis.

There was a significant national response to the shootings: hundreds of universities, colleges, and high schools closed throughout the United States due to a student strike of four million students, and the event further affected public opinion—at an already socially contentious time—over the role of the United States in the Vietnam War.

Photograph: John Filo/Getty

No, I don’t want Dean to kiss Cas...

… as soon as he’s back from the Dead… like the second he’s back. No. That’s OOC and frankly a bit underwhelming and overrated to me tbh.

I want Dean to pull Cas into a hug, one of those tight hugs that may be a bit suffocating to someone just back from the dead. I want Dean to bury his face in the crook of Cas’s neck and just breathe, trying to comprehend that “Cas isn’t dead. Cas isn’t cold like a corpse. He’s warm. He’s Alive”

I want Cas to wrap his hands shakily around Dean, hugging him back, a bit unsure because he just came back from the dead dammit and Dean’s there hugging the life out of him (ironic I know) and after getting a grip of his surroundings, I want Cas to rub Dean’s back soothingly, just wordlessly reassuringly saying “Dean, it’s okay. I’m here. I’m alive

Dean pulls back not too far back, unsure of the amount of time he spent with his eyes closed, just breathing Cas in it was just a few minutes.  And if the trench coat was a little wet, no one mentions it.

“Cas…”

“Dean… I… what happened?”

“You… We came out of the Space Vagina and you followed us out. But then Lucifer was there, he had the Angel blade, and he- You were- Cas man why did you follow us in? You knew the plan. What the fuck were you thinking?!” It should sound angry, it had a right to, but it doesn’t come out that way. Dean didn’t mean it that way anyway. It comes out fearful… pleading…

Cas is explaining whatever ‘the fuck he was thinking’ but Dean stops listening half way through. He just looks at Cas, still not believing that Cas was alive. He’s breathing. He’s back. He didn’t leave me, isn’t gone forever. Dean tears up a little again at that thought.

Of course, Cas notices and stops talking and just tilts his head in that very Cas way of his, squinting.

“Dean…?”

“ ’s Nothing buddy, it’s just…” Dean looks down and trails off, not being able to say it. But, Cas understands. Of course he does, Cas always does.

He smiles. A small, sad smile.

“Good things do happen Dean.”

Dean looks up, giving a half sob, half chuckle. 

Now Dean surges forward and kisses Cas, overwhelmed by his feelings of Love for Cas. Besides, this was long overdue anyway. By 5 fucking years Dean…

The kiss isn’t urgent but slow, deep and intense. It’s full of fear that Cas might’ve been gone forever, relief that he’s back, happiness (giddiness??) that Cas knows just the right things to say that cheer Dean up even if it’s not by a lot it’s the thought that counts and a promise, a promise of more, a promise of later.

And finally, and most importantly, their first ever kiss is full of Love that Dean just couldn’t find the words to express, Dean didn’t want to find the words to express because even a thousand words aren’t enough to tell Cas how Dean feels about him, can’t begin to carry the depth of his love. Besides, actions speak louder than words.

“Yes. Yes they do Cas.”

  • Me carefully standing in a corner setting up turret after turret after turret in a room with a healing pack right next to the objective: *is shot and killed
  • My murderer: is hit with a dozen turret lights and dies immediately after
  • Me: INSTANT KARMA YOU BASTARD
  • me: I just want to tend to my turret farms

◆ ——— SAW SENTENCE STARTERS.

’ I want to play a game. ’
’ My name is Very Fucking Confused; what’s your name? ’
’ Most people are so ungrateful to be alive, but not you, not any more… ’
’ I’m having a blast! This is the most fun I’ve had without lubricant! ’
’ I want you to make a choice. ’
’ Listen carefully, if you will. There are rules. ’
’ What’s the last thing you remember? ’
’ I went to bed in my shithole apartment, and I woke up in an actual shithole. ’
’ I’m sick from the disease eating away at me inside… ’
’ I’m sick of people who don’t appreciate their blessings… ’
’ I’m a kill you, you sick asshole! ’
’ Congratulations. You are still alive. ’
’ Most people are so ungrateful to be alive. But not you. ’
’ You don’t know me, but I know you. ’
’ Live or die, make your choice. ’
’ You’re probably wondering where you are. ’
’ Now I see you as a strange mix of someone angry, yet apathetic. ’
’ At least we’ll have the cover of darkness. ’
’ Help! Someone help me! Is someone there? ’
’ Hey! Oh shit, I’m probably dead. ’
’ Who said anything about a warrant? ’
’ If you are so sick then why do I have so many photos of you up and about? ’
’ How much blood will you shed to stay alive? ’
’ I’ll leave you in this room to rot. ’
’ I know it’s you, you son of a bitch! ’
’ My camera, it doesn’t know how to lie. ’
’ You tell anyone you were here? ’
’ Stop the lies! You’re a liar! I need to know the truth! ’
’ You don’t recall getting your picture taken in that parking lot? ’
’ How can you go through life pretending that you’re happy? ’
’ Does that mean you saw what happened to me? ’
’ Oh for fuck’s sake! I give up! ’
’ You think it is over, but the games have just begun. ’
’ You feel you now have control, don’t you? ’
’ I don’t have a fucking soul… ’
’ Will you learn how to let go and truly save them? ’
’ What you can’t do, is save everyone. ’
’ I promise that my work will continue. ’
’ If you can’t do it for me, do it for yourself. ’
’ I do, but addiction has ruined your life. ’
’ I’m bleeding man. Please just let me go. ’
’ Killing is distasteful… to me. ’
’ How did you walk out of that building? ’
’ So unless you’ve got something else to say… back the fuck off. ’
’ Playing with matches again? ’
’ I want to know if you have what it takes to survive. ’
’ They say imitation is the most sincere form of flattery… ’
’ We killed eight people and stole a property and nobody cared. ’
’ Why? Was it for money? This was your plan? ’
’ You’re a monster! ’
’ Fix me, you motherfucker! ’
’ Why don’t you fucking tell me something that I don’t know, you stupid cunt?! ’
’ For three years I wanted to kill you. ’
’ I’m never gonna be able to forgive myself for what happened. ’
’ You may not remember me, but I most certainly remember you. ’
’ There’s no preventative treatment for what you have. ’
’ Please don’t do this to me. I have a family. ’
’ You’re asking me to do the impossible. ’
’ I’m sorry, but your own actions have caused this. ’
’ What?! What am I supposed to learn from this?! ’
’ This is the piece taken from the latest victim. ’
’ How many next times are there gonna be? ’
’ Get used to me, ‘cause I’m not going anywhere. ’
’ When the time’s right, you’ll know what to do with it. ’
’ That rolled off your tongue real smooth. ’
’ Wait! What the fuck are you doing?! ’
’ Please don’t let me die! Please don’t! ’
’ Oh, well that’s it, isn’t it?! It’s over! ’
’ Look at me! When you’re killing me, you look at me! ’
’ I never saw any indication of psychotic behavior. ’
’ You can never really tell what someone’s thinking on the inside. ’
’ Well, there’s a problem with that, though. ’
’ Go on, fucking pussy! Go! Go! Go! ’
’ Maybe addiction’s just part of human nature. ’
’ Remember, don’t trust the one who saves you. ’
’ You want a chance? I’ll give you a chance. ’
’ What do you mean you don’t know about this? ’
’ You didn’t cut your own arm off? ’
’ What condition? There is no condition. ’
’ I didn’t have it penciled in on my schedule. ’
’ It’s not the first time some psychopath called me out. ’
’ That’s a problem you’re gonna have to solve before it’s too late. ’
’ How do you just wake up in a room and have no idea where you are? ’
’ I guess you’ve never been drunk before. ’
’ I spent three years at college drunk. ’
’ You asked me what I wanted and I told you. ’
’ You seem to know a whole lot about me. ’
’ I feel a whole lot of things right now. ’
’ The only dooryou know how to open… is between your legs! ’
’ Why don’t you shut the hell up?! ’
’ That’s your luck, bending on over in prison, you little dickhead! ’
’ If you’re gonna threaten me with a knife, you might as well cut me a little. ’
’ You savor everything, be it a glass of water or a walk in the park. ’
’ It’s the tool, thats going to save your soul. ’
’ I didn’t do anything to you! ’
’ Don’t open the door! ’
’ You have to save yourself. ’
’ Do you wanna play a game? ’
’ That’s exactly it, you didn’t do anything. ’
’ You identify more with a cold corpse than you do with a living human. ’
’ You should know better than anyone, what happens then. ’
’ I go for the neck, but I’m not the brain surgeon. ’
’ Now you better start fucking paying attention. ’
’ Suffering? You haven’t seen anything yet. ’
’ Yeah, that’s right. I’m a murderer. ’
’ So, do you have everything you need? ’
’ You’d be surprised what tools can save a life. ’
’ Then help me! Fix me! Fix me motherfucker! I’m standing right here! ’
’ You have to play by the fucking rules! ’
’ The human body is a miraculous creation. ’
’ Game over. ’
Family Name - Jughead Jones X Blossom!Reader

can you write soemthing where the reader is the youngest blossom and openly dating jughead and no one has actually asked how youre doing since jason disspared/body was descovered, except for jug. and one day reggie makes a comment on how dating a loser wouldnt be what jason wanted and you are litterly ready to fight him. But Cheryl, who hasnt really spoken to you since the body was found, is like i know my brother would want our sister happy

Originally posted by stydiaislove

I’m sorry it’s so short, but I hope you like it anyway!

“How’s today been so far,” Jughead asked, squeezing your hand. You looked up at him and you shot him a soft smile. “Better now,” he let out a breathy laugh and rolled his eyes. You looked down the hallways and when you didn’t see anyone you knew, you leaned up a pressed a kiss to Jughead’s cheek. It wasn’t like you and Jughead were dating in secret, it was just that most of the people that were close to your older siblings didn’t like it. It was those same people, that called themselves your friends, who also seemed to forget that you had lost a brother too, not just Cheryl. The whole football team, who looked up to the Blossom family name when Jason was captain, seemed to have forgotten about the youngest family member. Since your brother’s cold, lifeless corpse had been found, even Cheryl hadn’t spoken to you. Your heart sank with the thought of your sister, because if you were still struggling, who knows how she was fairing.  

“Hey,” Jughead said, stroking your cheek, “where’d you go?” You just shook your head in response. When you looked back up at him, his green eyes were squinted in concern. “I’m okay, really.” He nodded, but you knew he didn’t believe you. “I’m feeling so good, that I want to go to the football game tonight.” He raised his eyebrow at you and you smiled. “Will you come with me,” you asked sweetly, holding both of his hands now. He smiled at you, leaning down to look into your eyes, “of course.” The warning bell rang, signaling to get to your next class. “See you in the lounge after school.” He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, “see you then.” You let got of his hands, walking down the hall to your next class.

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I don’t have any words,
my childhood home looms around me,
as I’m shoved into a box that resembles a coffin,
I scratch and kick, desperate to escape,
but the cold corpses won’t leave me alone,
and the long dance of the night stretches out in front of me.
—  charleigh aleyna.

anonymous asked:

omg I would DIE if you wrote that elucien flower shop au. Your fics are always my favourites!!!

Ahhh thank you friend. Writing and I are going through a bit of a rough patch at the moment. So in the meantime have some headcanons. Because I’m fond of this idea and reserve the right to come back to it at some point. 

Okay so there’s that AU that flits around every now and then along the lines of a flower shop and a tattoo shop are next door to each other and you do the whole imagine your otp thing. 

With Elucien the most obvious configuration is Elain working in the flower shop (because duh) and Lucien working in the tattoo shop (inopportune headcanon dumping opportunity: I figure Lucien is quite creative and he enjoys sketching.) Anyway, he’s probably more suited to the tattoo shop but it’s…much more fun to flip it around. 

So Feyre and Rhys open up a tattoo parlour together and Elain works there part time and Lucien helps out in his mother’s flower shop next door. (Listen, idk why but I’ve had a long standing hc for about 16 years that Lucien’s mother enjoys gardening/flower arranging. Even if she doesn’t I still think she and Elain would get on incredibly well and I will be a tiny bit sad if we don’t get any scenes between them in acowar ANYWAY)  

Elain suddenly needs flowers for like….Every occasion. She starts insisting they should put them in the window of the tattoo shop it’ll, it’ll brighten the place up! And give people something nice to look at while you’re poking at them with sharp pointy things! They’re basically essential okay. Feyre is…Baffled. Rhys who is…slightly less dense than her understands exactly what Elain’s doing and while she is fond of plants she’s even fonder of the handsome redhead who works in the back of the store. 

Elain cultivates quite the relationship with Lucien’s mother and even on the days that she doesn’t buy any flowers for the tattoo place she finds an excuse to go in and talk to her all about plants. Lucien’s mother is very dear and very patient and delighted to have someone as enthusiastic as Elain. She makes her tea when she comes in and pretends she doesn’t notice the way Elain and her youngest son are making eyes at each other the entire time Elain is there.

 (She is 100% not oblivious. She knows exactly what’s going on. She’s all for it. She starts engineering ways for them to spend time together, slipping into the back and having Lucien watch the shop when she knows Elain is about to come in, sighing as they tiptoe around one another. Bonus points if things start getting desperate and she enlists Rhys’s help and they just start aggressively matchmaking the two of them. They’re very smug when they finally get together.) 

Anyway, Lucien mostly works in the back of the shop putting together bouquets and the like. He has deft, clever fingers (listen u will take ‘Lucien has very attractive hands’ hcs from my cold dead corpse and not before) and he’s been well trained in it. (And I enjoy the image of Lucien’s mother and Elain sitting having tea while Lucien sullenly and dramatically flounces around in the background, making quite a habit of dropping things because he’s looking at Elain and not at his work) 

Lucien’s mother starts encouraging Elain to request Lucien make her up bouquets at her request, it’ll give her exactly what she wants for the shop and will let Lucien practice working with an audience. She applauds herself for this excellent idea as she steps back and watches the two of them blush like sunburned beetroots around one another as they try to get a handle on flirting. (Lucien is tongue-tied. It’s the most precious thing anyone has ever witnessed. Rhys teases him about it for about a hundred years after this)  

Lucien starts like trying to stealth slip secret messages into the flower bouquets or something (come on, he would) to hint to Elain that he really secretly likes her. Feyre is a bit like ??? Elain ??? why do we keep getting bouquets that are literally just bright red roses from next door? Are you sure you ordered the right thing? Elain gets very flustered and tells her she has no idea what Lucien has doing. By this point even Feyre has worked it out and she gets in on the act between Rhys and Lucien’s mother. (They’re very awkward, bless them, like baby deer on ice. They need all the help they can get. Since this is a modern AU and there’s no inopportune moment for Lucien to blurt out that they’re soulmates and destined to be together) 

Lucien, flummoxed that his secret flower love notes aren’t working (even with his mother aggressively hinting at how seductive and romantic each and every flower Lucien has put in Elain’s most recent bouquets are) resorts to drastic measures and decides he wants a tattoo. He decides he has to spend hours and hours and hours at the shop every day pouring over designs to decide what he wants and where he wants it, ogling Elain the entire time. Feyre humours him and sketches him new designs every day. Then Elain gets involved and starts suggesting things and Lucien is a bit…Oh. Oh dear. This…This was not supposed to happen. I do not actually want a tattoo. Fuck. 

Lucien gets a tattoo. (Let it not be said this boy will not go to ridiculously dramatic lengths for love) He probably gets like a teeny tiny flower (Elain’s favourite, obviously) on his hip or something. He thrashes like an angry cat in a bag and eventually Feyre summons Elain over to hold his hand. This, shockingly, makes the tattoo stop hurting immediately and he just gazes up at her with such enormous hearteyes that Feyre is just…shall I leave you two alone? Like is my doing my job here ruining your moment? 

Lucien being Lucien probably chooses this inopportune moment (some things never change) to declare his deep desire to woo Elain and take her out to dinner. She’s…Really rather flabbergasted that he went to all this trouble getting a tattoo just so he could keep coming to see her every day…And so he confesses that well his flower messages weren’t working! he had to do something!!! (Feyre is deeply delighted to be present for this conversation. Lucien is not. He deeply regrets the teasing later) Elain is all :O you were leaving me flower messages?? (Feyre starts pretend gagging at this) And Lucien flushes and says yes. And then Elain is flushing and saying that she kept coming to the shop every day to try and woo him and Feyre is just like….Should I tell them now they probably shouldn’t start fucking while I’m doing this, like it’s totally not hygienic and I’m genuinely worried about the possibility given the way they’re looking at each other rn. 

They manage to contain themselves (just about) Feyre finishes up Lucien’s tattoo while Elain holds his hand and kisses his forehead and tells him he’s very brave (Feyre just ??? It’s the size of my thumb!? It took me twenty minutes??? Shut up Feyre, Elain is calling me brave, it was a very traumatic experience, back me up here goddammit, you are the world’s worst wingman. You’re trying to bang my sister??? You should be happy for her, attracting such a fine specimen as me. Feyre just -_- Lucien stops talking quickly remembering that she does still have a tattoo gun in her hand and it’s maybe not wise to antagonise her) 

Anyway after that Elain and Lucien becoming a very dorky and adorable little couple. Elain drifts into the flower shop everyday to visit Lucien and have tea with him and Lucien visits Elain very day still dropping off the bouquets for the shop (Rhys has gotten fond of them) Elain likes kissing Lucien’s tattoo when they’re in bed together and she probably ends up with a matching one and it’s probably something they keep adding to as they get older. (because I enjoy mushy ridiculous hcs leave me be) 

(Okay and bonus to actually make this tie into this post which sparked this conversation in the first place: Feyre and Tamlin have their whole…Thing. And the first time Lucien meets Elain is when she marches in to his shop, slams money down on the desk and demands, in no uncertain terms, the rudest bouquet he can possibly put together for the biggest idiot on the planet. (Yes, this is indeed the moment that Lucien decides he’s going to trip over his hearteyes and get ridiculous things tattooed on his body if it’ll mean being able to date this girl because who says fuck you with a bunch of flowers? And looks so sincere and grumpy about it? Like she’s even stamping her foot on the ground she’s clearly very serious about this) Also in this AU Lucien does not know Tamlin. His mother got him away from his father and they just live alone together with their little flower shop and things are just Nice (because I can do Nice sometimes okay?)) 

Okay there you go. This got a bit longer than anticipated so…I hope it tides you over a bit until such time as I decide I can maybe write this properly. 

Find Your Angel

A/N: Lol so here’s that Gabriel soulmate AU thing. Returning to my roots with angel smut. :) (See Humanity Over Heaven lmao.) FirSt TimE WriGhTinG GaBE ! Okay if there are any typos or whatever it’s because it’s 4:07 AM and I have been working on this for six hours. Forgive me. ;( 

Word Count: 5422 (lmao)

Warnings: Um. Mentions of being an orphan; moving from one home to another. Kinda graphic descriptions of torture. Kidnapping. A tiny bit of fluff. SMUT. Soulmate!AU. 

Summary: In a world where [y/n] is surrounded by normal people with normal names for their soulmate markings, she is outcast for her abnormal runes. It’s a language nobody’s ever seen, and no one can translate to her who her mate is– until she’s introduced to the hunting life, until she’s introduced to a man mated to an angel. Will she find her own angel? 

Masterlist 


When you had been born into this world with your tattoo scrawled down your spine in strange symbols that no one could decipher, your parents had deduced you to be… Well. A satanic spawn, to put it in their very elegant terminology. For fifteen years, you had been moved between foster homes and government holding facilities, reeking havoc and mischief across the country. Sometime during that span of nightmarish years, you’d eventually learned a few of the ins-and-outs of life– including some things you weren’t supposed to know. Like, for instance, you’d befriended a set of twins whom had lost their parents to a ravenous clan of vampires– and another boy had watched his mother fall under the claws of a werewolf. While you bumped your way through life, you’d learned a thing or two of the things that bumped back.

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one
i hate myself in the most daring ways. instead of slashing at my wrists or tying reverse necklaces around my neck i fall in love. i let the girl that breathed so much summer into me take it all away. i tell myself that tomorrow is a new day, and that today is the day in which i don’t need to pray. that god and i are just taking a break. anything religious or holy is somehow paused. i let her take the summer out of my body and replace with winter.
two
this winter isn’t snowfall. this winter is biting cold rain that only freezes once it’s hit the ground. this winter isn’t hot chocolate but hot streaks of saline down my left cheek, and it’s hot chested arguments that get me into trouble. i don’t smell christmas trees but instead i smell sap and broken fiberglass.
three
i can’t die.
i know words like they’ve been imprinted onto my tongue and i know just how they stick to cold corpses  just like tongues to wintery light poles. i know that no matter how much i condemn myself into the earth, no matter how quickly i allow my energy to be reinstated into the universe, my words can’t die. i know that someone can smell something and think of me or read something and think of me, tell a joke and think of me or fall in love and think of me. i know someone is going to find the body.
the idea that someone can find me like that terrifies me.
—  a collective of a suicidal realist
Differences

A/N: I am 100% convinced that this is not as good as Firsts, but it’s all done now and I am not even sure if this whole thing even makes sense. I just wanted a small explanation for why George would marry Angelina.

This fic has overwhelmed me a lot and I hope I could get the feelings across, somehow. Leave a comment or just any form of critism, because I really need it.

Summary: It’s his eyes and his face,his laugh - the spitting image of Fred. Until you notice the small but evident differences. And it’s Fred’s girlfriend he was consoling, understanding your sadness like no other. Until he falls in love.

Pairing: George Weasley x Reader as main // Fred Weasley x Reader

Word Count: 10777

Warnings: it’s post Battle of Hogwarts, so there’s some angst present. Mentions of death, Fred’s death, symptoms of Post trauma but overall fluffy.

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its in the blood

oh me…..back at it again with random religious symbolism for things that have nothing to do with religion. i cant help it. you can pry my symbolism from my perpetually cold, corpse-like hands 〆(・∀・@)