red there are no angry men


ws!bucky x reader

In which Y/N gets captured to be the Winter Soldiers pet

Warnings: kidnapping, torture, swearing, angst and fluff

words: 4.5K

He had noticed her in the 60’s the first time. She had been at the Kennedy parade, smiling and squaring with excitement as JFK, and his wife Jackie rode by, waving and smiling. Her hair was in a tight, and high ponytail, slicked back and long as was the style of the time, and the jewel she wore in it glinted in his eye as his sniper rifle passed over her. He had seen the way her face crumpled into a horrified scream as he hit his mark expertly, and he had seen the way she looked so pretty as she cried into her friend’s shoulders, mascara dripping down her face, marking it with her grief. His caretaker at the time noticed his gaze, and muttering quickly in Russian, hit the comm on his ear and proposed a plan to his superiors without the Assets knowledge. 

The Asset hadn’t known how they got the right woman, or why she was here, but he assumed that it was a simple way to keep him coming back to base— a reason not to run. If he ran, she would never be able to again. 

He saw her the second time huddled in the corner of his room, the green-tinted fluorescent lights making every blemish and blotch on her skin horribly apparent. Her dress, similar to the some he had seen her in the other day, was torn and dirt stained. Her fingertips were bleeding, and her nails were torn and despite not even being in the same vicinity as her for more than five seconds, found his chest swelling with pride at her will to fight. Her eyes grew wide in fear as she noticed him— his hulking stature and muzzle and shaggy hair that was a little too heavy with grease— and immediately, he tried to make himself smaller. He fell to one knee and slouched his back and held out two hands in surrender— a sign of submission he had learned when the torture his caretakers went too far. Her fear lessened somewhat, but she refused to leave the corner of the room for the next few days— going so far as to sleep and defecating in that spot. Her fear paralyzed her, and Bucky woke every day on his too-springy mattress and hoped to find her clean and in a chair or something other than that horrid corner. 

They took her for the first time that day, and he cursed his hearing abilities, for he could hear her screaming in pain— from what, he never wanted to know. 

He found out eventually, as they shoved her back in wearing what looked like cheap underwear and a cargo shirt he wore under his uniform. Her skin looked like it had been pressure washed, and from the small dots hidden in the crook of her arm, he hoped they had taken blood from her rather than injected her with something.

“что они сделали с тобой, милая?” (what have they done to you, sweet thing?). His voice was raspy as he neared her. His movements seemed to be too quick for her liking as she backed away and pressed herself to the bars of the door she was shoved through seconds before. 

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just great comet things
  • Having a cast member go up to your section of the seats to explain that you’re not quite seeing a normal show so keep your legs close
  • Natasha seeing Andrey off to the war at the very beginning, before the prologue, looking really heartbroken to see him leave
  • Andrey leaving through The Door™
  • Marya dissing the whole audience as ‘gossips and crybabies’
  • Mary making a random audience guy climb onstage to present to her father as a suitor
  • Snow falling over Andrey reading a letter as Natasha sings during No One Else
  • Gelsey Bell doing the opera screeching and wailing
  • Everyone being on stage most of the time, watching what’s going on and reacting
  • Everyone taking the events of the opera really seriously and then Andrey pops back onstage while ensemble members pull drapes of blood out of him
  • The chemistry between Anatole and Natasha
  • The strobe lights during the club that make you feel like you’re inside a stop motion
  • The costumes becoming bdsm gear and neon for everyone but Anatole, Helene, Pierre and Dolokhov (yes that means Grace McLean in spandex leather doing inappropriate gestures with a whip)
  • Having an ensemble member scream at you to read war and peace over blaring music
  • Pierre forcibly inducing your midlife crisis during Dust and Ashes but it’s okay because he’s having one too
  • Natasha just standing on stage in her underwear for most of Charming
  • The consequent onstage costume change
  • Having a cast member casually walk by at some point and wondering how this show even exists
  • Natasha and Anatole sealing their fate by dramatically walking through The Door™ hand in hand as dramatic strings play 
  • Anatole sitting down and shutting the whole thing down just so he can flirt with someone in the audience for an obnoxious amount of time
  • The Door™ opening with angry red lights to reveal Marya as she screams ‘you will not enter mY HOUse scoundrelll”
  • Natasha pacing all over the stage during Pierre and Anatole and preparing the poison/drinking it then freaking out about what she’s done while the men argue (and then Sonya helping her off the stage)
  • Natasha Very Ill to The Great Comet of 1812 cleansing your soul and putting the whole theatre at peace
  • Feeling like you’re somehow walking in the snow on some russian road with Pierre during the finale
  • All of the characters standing up and gazing at the comet like they all believe it holds the key to their redemption and new beginnings
  • The overall performance adding so many nuances to the story that you leave the theatre confused because what you took for granted about the characters isn’t so solid anymore

doe - a deer, a female deer

red - the blood of angry men


They all laughed then, Joffrey on his throne, and the lords standing attendance, Janos Slynt and Queen Cersei and Sandor Clegane and even the other men of the Kingsguard, the five who had been his brothers until a moment ago. Surely that must have hurt the most, Sansa thought. Her heart went out to the gallant old man as he stood shamed and red-faced, too angry to speak.

A Stolen Bride // Warrior Prince! Bakugou x Reader.

You are mine…”

He was infamous.

His people had always been well known and feared. For centuries, they had roamed around the earth, taking over territories and destroying everyone who got in their way. They were nomads, pulling up camp wherever they saw fit.

They waged battle with everyone, burned down villages and cities alike. They took slaves, held royalty for ransom, brought mayhem with them wherever they roamed. Most rulers never bothered them, allowing the Warriors to do whatever they wished or simply paying them to go away. They didn’t see a point in fighting them.

No hero, no army, no one had ever stood in there way. They had crushed them all. Especially now that Bakugou, the Warrior Prince, was ruling over them. He was more ruthless and more violent then any other previous leader. Rarely did he show mercy or leave survivors but those who did manage to escape…they told of nightmares.

You had only heard bits and pieces that had traveled through the villages and they had been enough to frighten you. But they hadn’t been enough to prepare you. The warriors had been heard before they had been seen. The sounds of thousands of footsteps shook the earth, their voices carried on the wind. The words were rough and unfamiliar, a language you had never heard before.

Scouts were sent but never returned.

And it was then that panic truly set in. Quickly, your people prepared to leave. Some wanted to hide in the surrounding forests, others wanted to run to the neighboring villages. You remembered the path near the river and wondered if it was safe to run to it. But…you never got to find out. No one did. No one even got so much as the chance to run. The warriors rained down upon you like a fiery rain, shouting angry, unfamiliar words that mingled with the screams of your friends and neighbors.  

It was like something out of nightmare.

Fire swept through your little village, blood ran like a red river. You could see the flames from your window, drenching everything in a red glow. The shadows of marching men were painted across them in an eerie display. You had remained hidden in your home, your hands clamped over your ears in an effort to drown out the nightmare outside. But the sounds only became louder and louder…until you heard it.

The sound of woods smashing and splintering into a thousand pieces. Your front door. You heard heavy boots stamping on your floors. And laughter. Deep, frightening laughter. You froze, hoping they would think that the house was empty. You heard only the steps of a single warrior wandering around your home, the floorboards creaking beneath them.

Just leave. Just go.’  You prayed.

“I know you’re in here.”

He spoke. He spoke in your own language and for a second, you were so shocked that you didn’t even register what he was saying. His voice was deep and reminded you of a guttural growl.

“Just come on out! I might go easy on you if you do.”

His words rolled in your head, bringing you to a single choice: leaving. You had to leave here. If you stayed, he would surely find you hiding in your bedroom and…and kill you. But if you made a break for it, you might be able to escape into the forest and hide there. His steps grew closer. You took a deep breath…and you ran.

Bolting across the room, you threw open the window and gasped in horror. From your window, you could see the destruction, the fire and the bodies laid out in the streets. Fear left you frozen for a moment but the sound of footsteps pounding up the stairs brought you to your senses. With shaking legs, you climbed out onto the roof and began to crawl across it. If you turned the corner, you could use the ivy to climb down and run. Maybe, just maybe, you could make it. A loud smash made you scream and crawl faster. You looked over your shoulder as you turned the corner, stealing a glimpse of blood-covered skin and spiky blonde hair.


His boots slammed onto the roof, rushing after you. In an effort to escape, you stood up and made a run for it…only to lose your balance and fall off of the roof. You could only gasp as you stumbled down. Would you be hurt? How badly? Perhaps if you played dead upon hitting the ground, he would leave you be.

But you didn’t fall.

He didn’t let you fall.

Instead, he reached out and took hold of your wrist, pulling you back onto the roof…and right into his arms. In an almost graceful kind of way, the warrior whirled around and pinned you to your own house, leaning over you as he did. You finally got a good look at the warrior, staring up at him with wide eyes.

His hair was ash blonde, thick and spiky. His skin was covered in blood (his? Or another’s?) and scars, so many scars. He had been in many battles. He was a bit taller then you and very muscular, his entire body seemed tensed and excited. And his eyes…His eyes were bright red and gleaming as he looked down at you.

“Gotcha.” He said, smirking smugly at you.

The warrior leaned forward, his white teeth glinting in the moonlight. Though you didn’t know what he was going to do, you closed your eyes out of the anticipated pain and fear. You expected him to bash his face into yours or to break your neck. You didn’t expected him to…smell you. The warrior had buried his face in your hair and neck and breathed in your scent deeply, as though it was something he had been wanting forever.

You whimpered and he chuckled, the sound vibrating against your neck.

“You scared of me? Bet you are…bet you heard all kinds of stories about me…”

He pushed your hair back, his heavy hand playing with it as his lips pressed to your neck. And his teeth. You felt his teeth too, just for a moment. Your heart raced wildly (Could he feel it? You were certain that he could) and your breath caught in your throat. He laughed again, a little bit louder this time.

“The terrible Bakugou! Warrior Prince! Murderer! Monster!”

Him. It was him.

It wasn’t just any warrior who had you in his arms but their ruler. The Warrior Prince.

You whimpered upon feeling his teeth on your neck once more, this time biting down. Hard. You were certain that he had drawn blood. His rough tongue run over the mark, licking your throbbing skin.

“It’s all true. Every fucking word. I’m a real bastard but…even a bastard wants a wife.”

You wondered why he was telling you this but became distracted by pain. He bit you again, this him harder and higher up your neck. You knew that he had drawn blood the second time and once more…his tongue ran over the bite mark. He was lapping your your blood, you realized, as though it was a sweet treat.

“Been looking for one too. Gotta have heirs and a warm bed and all that shit. Then I saw you, walking along that river…”

You remembered that. You remembered picking berries along the river and feeling like you were being watched. At the time, you had thought of bears and bandits…and now you knew that it had been so, so much worse.

His teeth left your neck and he looked at you, his red eyes flashing in the light of the fire.

“Please, please…let me go…” you whispered.

He only laughed, the manic sound echoing with the screams and battle cries.

“Oh, no, baby!” He said. “You don’t GET a choice in the matter!”

His grip on your tightened as he glared at you, a smirk painted on his face.

“You’re mine now. So just fucking deal with it.”

That was the night you lost everything. Your friends, your family, your home. Everything you had ever known was wiped out in a single night and you wept for all of it. Bakugou couldn’t have cared less, telling you only to shut up ans stop struggling as he carried you away. The Warrior Prince sighed in annoyance, glaring down at you.

Rather then whisper a word of comfort, he simply tossed you onto a massive horse. You considered leaping down and trying to run away but before you could, he was there. His arms wrapped around you and kept you pinned to his chest as he rode, rode away from the battle and the fire and the blood.

The horse thundered through the forest, leading you away to god knows where. You realized that you were not only in the arms of the Warrior Prince…but of your future husband. As though he had been struck by a similar thought, his little wife trapped in his embrace, Bakugou suddenly smirked.

He kissed your neck once more, his lips pressing against the throbbing mark he’d left on your neck. You gasped, closing your eyes tight, and he laughed that frightening laugh. Everything, everything you had ever known and loved, was gone. Gone forever. And though you had no idea what you life would be like now…the very idea of it frightened you.

How could it not?

The Warrior Prince had claimed you as his on that brutal, bloody night. You were his now…His wife, his captive, his princess, his plaything.

And you always will be!”

(Thank you to the requester!!)


It is time for us all to decide who we are. Do we fight for the right to a night at the opera now? Have you asked of yourself what’s the price you might pay? Is this simply a game for a rich boy to play? The colors of the world are changing day by day! Red, the blood of angry men! Black, the dark of ages past! Red, a world about to dawn! Black, the night that ends at last!

drowning oceans

[jon snow x reader]

author’s note: i spent a few days trying to write this because i just couldn’t get it to flow right but then today i hung out with a friend literally all day and didn’t get home till almost midnight yet stayed up to write this because i actually got it to work despite being super tired. wtf why am i like this i just wanna sleep, y’all

word count: 2,295

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…Can’t we just stop angry, unstable young men like him from buying firearms?

It’s much harder than it sounds.

The mental health system doesn’t identify most of these people because they don’t come in to get care. And even if they do, laws designed to preserve the civil liberties of people with mental illness place limits on what treatments can be imposed against a person’s will.

Here in California, as in most states, patients must be a danger to themselves or others because of mental illness before they can be involuntarily admitted to a psychiatric hospital. This is a mechanism for getting people into treatment when they are too deep in the throes of their illness to understand that they need it. It allowed me to hospitalize a woman who tried to choke her mother because she was convinced her family had been replaced with impostors, and a man who had sent threatening letters to his boss because he believed she had implanted a microchip in his brain.

… The reason the mental health system fails to prevent mass shootings is that mental illness is rarely the cause of such violence. Even if all potential mass shooters did get psychiatric care, there is no reliable cure for angry young men who harbor violent fantasies. And the laws intended to stop the mentally ill from buying guns are too narrow and easily sidestepped; people like Nikolas Cruz and my patient are unlikely to qualify.

Instead of hoping that imposing mental health treatment on everyone who shows “red flags” will put an end to mass shootings, we should focus on ways to put some distance between these young men and their guns.


AMY BARNHORST, vice chair of community psychiatry at UC Davis, writing in the New York Times“The Mental Health System Can’t Stop Mass Shooters.”

The NRA knows this.  Republicans and Donald Trump and gun fetishists know this.

Which is why they keep pushing this one-sided, self-serving agenda, even while they move to curtail resources that would actually address access to mental health resources in this country.

Please imagine someone taping an iPod to Stabby the Roomba.

Please imagine this person being Minkowski.

Please imagine Minkowski programming the iPod to only play show tunes

Please imagine Stabby the roomba patrolling the halls blasting “RED! THE BLOOD OF ANGRY MEN! BLACK! THE DARK OF AGES PAST!”

Please imagine Stabby slowly sneaking up on Kepler while playing “My Shot” on the lowest volume possible.

Bend Over My Lap A.I

Originally posted by loserxhemmo96

warning: smut

word count: 1600+

summary: dominant!ashton - y/n cheats on ashton because she’s unsatisfied but he proves her wrong

requested?: yes, hope you liked it anon!! this is written by Hannah whoop whoop. Keep your eyes pealed for me and Hannah’s secret project, details will be coming in the near future so keep your snacks on the ready!

requests are not open! you can request as many times as you want :))

find Hannah here: @lukeasfuck

- Find my Masterlist here -________________________________________________________________

“What do you mean?” Ashton asked me and I saw his face start to quiver. 

“I slept with another man.” I looked down, trying to avoid his burning gaze. 

“You slept with another man?” He repeated in disbelief and I nodded my head. I looked up and could see the hurt in his eyes before he broke eye contact and looked at the ground. His expression was grim before he turned around and stalked to the kitchen sink, dropping his fork into the sink of soapy water.

I could see his arms clench as he gripped onto the counter and he slumped his head down, making my heart drop. How could I do this to the man I love? Yes, I had been unhappy and unsatisfied, but that gave me no reason to do what I did. I had no excuses.

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FFXV x Eyeshield 21

This AU has been stewing in my head for the last 2 weeks I just had to do something drastic—I love Eyeshield 21 so much I am craving to see my favourite FFXV characters in the esteemed sport :) 

Meet the champions of Eos Football League:


-okay I was supposed to go for Insomniacs but that’s horrible

-iconic black with their royal skull logo imprinted on the top of their helmets

-really really great at offense

-has retired pro player Cor Leonis to coach the team

-dubbed “The Tactician”, the team’s control tower

-specializes in trick plays and ridiculously quick passes

-calculates efficiently for pass and option routes

-may or may not be competent depending on his caffeine intake for the day. Take out ebony in his arsenal and he’ll turn into a demon in the field.

-the famed “Shield” 

-will protecc his quarterback from blitzes 10/10

-has the most records for enemies’ harsher injuries, also mostly due to his stubborn temper

-will pave way for their runningback like a FUKKEN LAWNMOWER

-self-proclaimed “Quicksilver”

-will catch any and all balls (that’s what he said)

-makes sure to complete every pass the quarterback does

-has ‘stage fright’ every beginning of a match but changes demeanor once he steps in the border of the field

-da real MVP

-living embodiment of lazy genius

-got his ridiculous speed from running away from responsibilities

-looks like he’s so done with the world but he gets serious with playing and doing the best for his team




-i was actually gonna go for ‘Militants’ but it’s too evil xD

-the forever rivals


-power play

-the Nifs’ proud golden boy

-smallest youngest in their team

-smol but will nyoom to your goal posts faster than you can say ‘Cor the Immortal’

-may or may not be obsessed with the rival team’s coach–> probably the reason he joined the league



-before you ask, yes I actually thought to go for ‘Seers’ or ‘Oracles’

-the dark horse (not really cos they white lol)

-really really good with defense 

-the Left Hand of God

-watch out for his left-handed tackle–it’s seething with hatred 

-irritates Ignis because he keeps foiling their strategies

-the living embodiment of cockblock YOU SHALL NOT PASS