#ive been following both this account and your other account for ages

[rabuagain-callout]

Rabuagain mods distribute child The mods of Rabuagain produce, distribute, and redistribute drawings of underaged characters undergoing sexual harm!

I am sick of all of this, and would like to be done. Everyone is welcome to argue about whether it's a healthy coping mechanism or not all they want, waste your time because both sides will never agree. I want CSA victims to know about this though so they can properly separate if they so wish. If Amm0sexual and B0urbonstreet's actions do not affect you then do not worry about it. If it doesn't affect you, then this post was not meant for you, and that's okay. If you are a CSA victim and are unphased by their actions, then don't worry about it. There is nothing for anyone to do besides blocking the accounts if they wish.

CW: underaged characters in sexual situations, gore, noncon, torture, eye gore, etc.

I am not in the Love Live community but I've been made aware that Rabuagain was run by three moderators. I know the identities of two of those three. Mod Ayumu is known as b0urbonstreet on platforms, and their partner is known as amm0sexual on platforms. They also have a joint etsy account called HyacinthAndMarigolds, and they both run Rabuagain together. Both of them produce, distribute, and redistribute drawings of underaged characters undergoing sexual harm

Here is an older callout against these two as an honorable mention: https://www.tumblr.com/skele-bunny/722499624927215616/so-i-was-asked-to-reblog-this-as-ive-had-6?source=share

I understand that Rabuagain is closing down, but I feel this callout is incredibly important because I know these two people will still be involved in the Love Live community, and everyone deserves to know the truth about these people. I want people to be able to make an informed decision about who they associate with, or where they source their collectibles.

* I, the person writing this, can understand victims of trauma (especially sexual trauma) needing an outlet for their feelings, and using art as that outlet. However, I have no remorse for someone who exposes others to that sort of content, tricks artists into drawing it, and belitting CSA victims when they are uncomfortable with CP. The moderators of Rabuagain are monsters for this.Please do not harass anyone involved in this. Please just block them. If you can stomach viewing their accounts then you may report their content as well, but otherwise please do not force yourselves.

The horrific things they were posting

The following are censored images from "Mod Ayumu's" Tumblr and Twitter. Many images depicting fictional underage characters being sexually assaulted. Their Twitter is now deleted, but was filled to the brim with drawn depictions of underage characters undergoing sexual violence much more than their Tumblr due to Tumblr's stricter guidelines. I have also included a few snippets of their depraved thoughts they shared on an anon ask platform such as Tellonym or Curiouscat.

(THESE IMAGES ARE DIFFICULT TO LOOK AT, EVEN CENSORED)

Next are b0urbonstreet and amm0sexual's characters, who are aged 15 and 16 respectively, and paired with a 47yr old and 27yr old respectively.

(THESE IMAGES ARE DIFFICULT TO LOOK AT, EVEN CENSORED)

* EXTREMELY important to note: the creator of the characters Ren/Fox (47) and Derek (27) is STRICTLY against any content of her characters involving minors. Please do not assume that the creator of Ren and Derek is okay with this, she is horrified by this situation. Please leave the creator of Ren/Fox and Derek alone, as she does not wish to be involved with any of this.

Proof linking Mod Ayumu to B0urbonstreet

Mod Ayumu is b0urbonstreet on tumblr and twitter, where they post drawn depictions of underaged characters undergoing sexual harm and violence. One of the other moderators are Amm0sexual, though I do not have proof linking them together besides that they live together.

ARTWORK: The official Rabuagain closing art and art sent to customers matches the art posted by b0urbonstreet on Tumblr and Twitter.

HANDWRITING: The handwritten letters people received from b0urbonstreet and amm0sexual's conjoined etsy (HyacinthAndMarigolds) matches the handwriting in Rabuagain orders (found on Twitter), as well as the artwork.

BIRTHDAY: Mod Ayumu and b0urbonstreet share the same birthday, as well as same affinity for Nagisa

NAME: This was an anonymous tip sent to me after posting this. Something that had gone over my head, as again, I am not involved in the Love Live fandom. Thank you, anon!

Anon wrote: On one of the images, one of the tags says "you can tell who my favorite (love live) girl is." The character in question is Hanayo Koizumi, who is nicknamed Kayo-chin by her best friend. Bourbonstreet goes by Kayo, and their discord name is hanayoyazawa (Yazawa is the last name of another LL character, I assume their second favorite)

How they have responded

This is how b0urbonstreet and amm0sexual responded when a different community discovered their drawn depictions of underaged characters in sexual situations. They lashed out at people, and at CSA victims who voiced their discomfort. It is worth noting that amm0sexual and b0urbonstreet ARE victims of CSA as well, but this should not give them an excuse to harass. It is worth noting too, that CSA victims, even if offended, should have left amm0sexual and b0urbonstreet alone, and opted to block the two instead. They projected onto others, insinuating others may be attracted to minors. These are people who feel no guilt for what they do, and they have doubled down on their actions. They have shown cruelty to CSA victims, while yes being CSA victims themselves this does not excuse it though. When they were confronted, they mass reblogged drawn depictions of underaged characters in sexual situations on their twitter (b0urbonstreet) but their twitter is now deleted so I can not prove it, so take with a grain of salt. They mass reblogged drawn depictions of underaged characters in sexual situations as a means of directly harming any CSA victims that go to their profile to block them.

After posting this initially on twitter, I have received a shocking number of harassment already from accounts empty, except for replies only regarding to defending Amm0sexual and B0urbonstreet, which makes me wonder if these are their alt accounts. I've received insults that I am brain dead and that my mother dropped me as a baby and such. It is completely immature, but a much better response than when they mass reblogged triggering images on their profiles so anyone who tried to block them would be forced to see that first.

[peekintoeternity]

omg i think im so out of loop (never check any naruto blog aside from ones ive followed tbh for the past 2 years lmao) that i didnt know people have pointed out the similarities between vaderkin and tobito?? damn i thought i was all alone LOL 😭 (psss id be more than willing of course to listen to your take on their similarities and differences)

hi there! so i think others have done this extensively, i usually find such jokes / mini "thought pieces" on reddit (you can try r/naruto or r/dankruto and search relevant keywords) or youtube comment sections, and especially the YT vid from Death Battle, although other (smaller) creators have also posted (more serious) video essays about Obito, where Anakin / Darth Vader has been mentioned as a parallel to Obito's character :)

unfortunately i can't remember the exact video & all the information is a bit scattered, even in my brain lol, so the best i can do is point u to some sources 🥲

for instance, there are many YT video essays & even reddit posts on Obito's character & how misunderstood he is, like Swagkage's "Dissecting Obito Uchiha", "How Strong is Obito?", "Leave Obito Alone" (lol)

i'm not sure i can ever make a post listing all their similarities, esp when the Death Battle vid has already pretty much done that, and more comprehensively than any comment / reddit post at that, haha

you can also check their wiki for a detailed breakdown of the vid, but perhaps go straight to the Trivia section to see a list of their many similarities! :D

(of course as with all sources, there are some things i disagree with, for instance DB lists Obito as having "less combat experience" than Vader, but we actually don't know what Obito does during all those nigh 20 years that he was living as "Nobody" / "The Masked Man" / Tobi, i mean he could've been training and participating in duels, espionage, skirmishes, battles, etc., i mean he was the secret leader of the Akatsuki, the real Fourth Mizukage of Mist/Kiri, also basically the real leader of Land of Rain too ("Amekage" if you will?) since he is the reason Pain & Konan were able to overthrow Hanzō and the two take orders from him even if they are not loyal to him, so there could've been countless of combat / military and political missions he was involved in that happened "offscreen", and add to all that the fact he was a child soldier starting from around age 9 (when he became a genin and began taking on missions) and that, of course, he was a main player (war criminal! lol) as both fighter and strategist and military commander in Narutoverse's Fourth World War—but hey, the whole point of fandom & media is that there will also be multiple interpretations, so i see no point in "nitpicking" a fictional fight analysis lol)

maybe something new i can add is the meta parallel of how, in real life, vader's identity reveal was a plot twist that shook the whole of star wars fandom and beyond, shocking audiences & remaining iconic to this day

similarly, though i wasn't there (in the fandom or following the anime), at the time, when obito was revealed to be The Masked Man ("Tobi") in the anime, apparently sooo many streaming sites straight up broke down due to the sheer number of people immediately going to see the episode (guess there aren't that many manga readers compared to anime haha)

so yeah, vader broke cinema (insert martin scorsese meme), and obito broke the internet, quite literally 🤣

and these are just accounts from english speakers, who knows how much potentially crazier things got on chinese & japanese & other non-english sites lol

i might add some stuff if i have the energy to organize my thoughts more later on, sorry if this isn't the answer you were hoping for, but i hope the links & sources above can be helpful to you! :)

[falcqns]

hi Ava!! <3

take all the time you need to answer!! are you feeling better?

for your dm dr:

i might just be confused but if you do online school in another time zone, does that mean you do school at night?

which other projects have you had cameos in?

have you ever been to a premiere with her?

when did you first get a social media account? and did you have to ask permission?

have you met Xochitl?

for your flo dr:

are you in the mcu too?

have you been in a movie with flo?

do you and flo have a ship name?

i really hope you feel better soon <33

hey!! ive started feeling better! i ended up going to the hospital because my husband was concerned that i was going to develop sepsis in my lymph nodes so i got checked out and got a prescription and im getting better lol

dance moms: 1. my online school isnt like on zoom or anything, basically anything that gets taught during class (like slideshows, readings, etc) gets uploaded to our school portal and we can work on it on our own time, but our deadlines for assignments are all the same, if that makes sense? i did it that was as thats how things worked at my college and i liked that if i missed class i didnt have to worry about missing information lol.

2. i was also in godzilla as another background child in the ending scene when theyre all reuniting. i was also in age of ultron, as one of the kids on the helicarrier at the end! there have been a few more, like most of the marvel movies, kodachrome, and love and death, but i was just in the background and you cant even see my face half the time lol

3. i go to any premiere i can with her! it helps that both my parents are in the MCU so for most projects i go to her premieres no matter the parent im with!

4. i think i got a social media account at like 13, but it was private, and literally only mom and my aunts followed it, but when i was 15, the dance moms producers were pressuring me to have a public one so i made it public

5. i have!! shes one of my best friends :)

flo: 1. i do have a character in the MCU (i'm steve and sharon's daughter) but i took a break from acting when my dad and i fell out so i havent played sarah in a while

2. i've been in a few, and we're writing one together right now!!

3. tbh i never though i would get this question but now i have so now i must reveal that our ship name is Flava (pronounced Flay-va) 😭

thank you for the questions!! keep sending them, i love answering them <3

[dentistenthusiast]

All-on-4 Implants Franklin, Tn Teeth In A Day

Continue reading to learn more concerning the numerous options out there. We hope that this data helps you determine if that is the proper therapy for you. Computerized Implant Guided Surgery, which results in minimal surgical scarring, better surgical accuracy, and optimal aesthetic end result. Only one certified All-on-4® dentist handles the entire case at our single location because the medical gear, the lab, and the dentist are in one location. The traditional All-on-4® centers solely account for the inclusive charges and the value of Conscious IV Sedation.

Teeth in a day will help the patient adapt to having artificial teeth. Patients can bear the teeth-in-a-day procedure at Temecula Facial Oral Surgery. Dr. Tsvetov will fastidiously study your teeth to discover out whether you’re a candidate for this procedure. He will then discuss teeth in a day your choices and begin the therapy process. These short-term teeth can be used as you would your pure teeth. The dentist could advocate placing you on a food regimen of softer foods to avoid irritation within the first few days.

Patient had full mouth implant supported restorations, with both teeth in a day and all on 4, to restore her function, smile and self confidence. For your final teeth, you, the dentist, and our in-house lab technician will work together to design your good smile. While different places of work nonetheless use acrylic denture teeth over titanium bars, we use either zirconia or nano-ceramic for one of the best in appearance, durability, and resistance to staining. Upgrading to those supplies normally prices considerably extra at other places of work. With the All-on-4 concept only 4 implants are needed and completely NO bone grafting is important.

Generally, to stabilize a dental implant, dentists penetrate the pointed finish of the cone-shaped upper entrance tooth socket. Two hundred forty two sufferers with 968 immediately loaded implants have been examined, and the survival charges have been famous. Notably, a excessive survival fee of 93% was noticed at the affected person degree, and a excessive survival price of 98% was observed at the implant level after a 5-year follow-up. All our dental implants are made from FDA-approved, high-grade titanium.

Also, if you’re a candidate for it, the doctor provides you with a steroid shot which can help with discomfort and swelling for the first few days. The teeth you get the same day of surgical procedure are only a temporary/transitional set. When we fabricate your final teeth, you ought teeth in a day to have full control of the design and look of your teeth. Smoking can enhance the danger of implant issues, so we suggest not smoking with dental implants. Diabetics must also pay consideration to an increased risk for complication with dental implants.

However, for all intents and functions, sufferers will leave Dr. Tsvetov’s office with new teeth in a day that they will still use to eat, chew, chew, and drink as they did up to now. We are dedicated to providing quality healthcare to families positioned in the teeth in a day Chicago area and treat sufferers of all ages. After an applicable period of healing has occurred, a last prosthesis is placed on the implants. Every affected person is totally different and surgical protocols are custom-tailored to your specific wants.

With correct planning, most people have sufficient bone for using robust high quality implants of standard size. Again, the importance of proper planning and understanding of success and failure of implants is critical. In some situations, one’s bone may not be sufficient for implants. In many cases, success can be obtained by augmenting the bone or via the use of more superior implant methods and procedures (zygoma or trans-sinus implants).

I was given loads of time to relax, and due to the experience and delicate care from Dr. Khullar and his staff I truly slept through the complete procedure! Dr. Khullar stayed after hours to guarantee that I was comfy and answered all my considerations. There have been several types of faux teeth as technology has progressed. One of the most famous folks to wear dentures may be George Washington.

[greatgardenphilosopher]

Autism Vs. Asperger's Syndrome: Similarities & Differences.

Cognitive disabilities are not associated with HFA. Despite the fact that there are distinctions between AS and HFA, kids on the spectrum who have either medical diagnosis share some obstacles, consisting of being more vulnerable to stress and anxiety and anxiety, particularly during early teen years. Early intervention is key. A medical diagnosis of autism can be extremely various from one child to another, and numerous kids fall through the fractures with diagnoses like AS and HFA, because these children appear to fit normal standards, aside from a couple of social peculiarities.

Looking for help as quickly as possible is the very best way to ensure success for kids with unique requirements, and having the ideal diagnosis and the ideal details allows parents to better advocate for their children. Every kid should have level playing field to feel safe and comfortable in their environment, and getting the right medical diagnosis is the initial step.

As your child grows and desires to do more things by themselves, Angel, Sense permits more freedom without compromising safety.

Autism is a developmental condition, which suggests that people are born with it and tend to display signs early in life, often before the age of 2. Individuals with autism tend to show problems in the following locations: People with level 1 autism (or what was previously categorised as Asperger's syndrome) deal with those very same difficulties, but are of typical or above-average intelligence and can lead either independent lives or only require some assistance.

Asperger's Syndrome: Symptoms, Tests, Diagnosis

In easier (though not entirely valuable) terms, level 1 is a milder type of autism and level 3 is the most extreme form of autism. Rather than continuing to view Asperger's syndrome as a different category, experts decided that with the publication of the DSM-5, autism needs to be thought about a "spectrum condition." This distinction recognised the similarities in between the causes and signs of autism, no matter its intensity.

This conception of autism was not completely new. From its initial addition in the DSM-IV, some scientists were worried about the Asperger's medical diagnosis, as they felt it was just a variation of autism. 1 Some prominent historians have actually argued that Hans Asperger was complicit in Hitler's regime of "euthanasia" in his bid to produce a "genetically fit" German population.

He was also accountable for sending others to the Spiegelgrund clinic, where they were starved or offered deadly injections. Asperger's complicity in the death of neurodiverse kids has actually sustained some calls to more desert the Asperger's label, even in a colloquial sense. While moving to "autism spectrum disorder" has generally received the support of the medical community, the revision of the term "Asperger's syndrome" to "autism spectrum condition" was satisfied with unpredictability in the autism community.

On the other hand, there are those who have been pleased to be able to relate to the term "autism." Some of these people, however, dislike the difference between level 1 and other kinds of autism; they may also decline terms such as "high-functioning," worrying the similarities between themselves and others with more extreme, and restricting, kinds of autism.

Understanding The Difference Between Asperger And Autism

My individual preference is for the term autism. Language changes and takes on brand-new meaning, and "Asperger's" is a term that has actually taken on positive undertones for numerous, as soon as I discovered out about Asperger's most likely participation in the Nazi eugenics motion, his was not a name I wanted associated with mine.

"High-functioning" is a term that sits easily with many autistic people in choice to "level 1," which may not seem to explain their experience. Some individuals, however, reject "high-functioning" as a term because it both downplays their difficulties, and functions as a judgement on others with more serious forms of autism.

Asperger explained a set of habits patterns revealed by a few of his patients, most of whom were males. He noticed that regardless of regular development progress in regards to intelligence and language, these patients had. They likewise presented restricted and repeated habits, which are now the hallmark symptoms for ASD.

One thing that has been unmasked various times is that autism spectrum disorders are not caused by an individual's. Genes appear to affect if an individual will establish Asperger's.

The Difference Between Autism And Asperger's Syndrome

Although there is more threat for more youthful brother or sisters of a child with Asperger's to develope the syndrome, likelihood of it vary research study shows. In addition, research studies revealed that if one twin has autism spectrum condition in identical twins, the other twin may also have the condition with 36% to 95% chance.

[miss-louisa-may]

right so i've discovered that i've tagged things weirdly forever so i'm gonna use those tags and find out what the fuck i was on about

these are just the A tags

[n7punk]

I don't have an ao3 or a tumblr account, just wanted to say i've been following your work for a long time and I think your catradora work is really special! I really liked the first chapter of sw&d and I feel like these versions of catra and adora are standouts!

<3 ive always really liked the toht catradoras because they're so insecure (its fun to write) and, well, they are kinda delinquents. its a side of their canon characters (ESPECIALLY Adora's) that you don't often see explored? we see adora coming up (on her own) with ways to break rules and like, laws if you think about it (lots of misbehavior in the horde, stealing the skiff because she thinks that will cheer catra up, breaking into prison after being expressly forbade from visiting sw, sneaking around under the queen's nose both for angella and glimmer) so yeah, that's gonna result in Some Stuff regardless of the verse. in a lot of my AUs, she's done some rule-breaking (see slas where they sneak around the home a lot and talk about "breaking into" the boardwalk) but mostly hasn't broken the law for the mere fact that she doesn't want to... go to jail, you know, that whole thing. she's a goody two-shoes but also only until the rules are inconveniencing her.

in toht she's had rough life circumstances, something she and catra always have, but she also got FREE of them, so she has been raised in this weird place where consequences were rather... random and thus Inconsequential (because abuse just Happened, and sometimes you could talk your way out of it but others you couldnt), but she suddenly doesn't have to be afraid anymore like she was growing up. the sudden freedom has resulted in a minor invincibility complex (which pairs well with her extreme anxiety and fear conditioning) so she kind of feels like she isn't going to get caught now that no one is breathing down their necks but it doesn't matter if she does because punishments just happen or they don't anyway. as a result she is less rule-bound than i usually have her.

catra, by contrast, always knew things weren't fair or normal and continued to have an uncomfortable time of it after she got pulled from the home (until she got place with scorpia's family) so her perspective isn't that different from most of my AUs because nothing got Rocked for her by them suddenly getting pulled from shadow's place (aside from losing adora), so she isn't much more of a law-breaker than usual. it wouldn't have rocked adora nearly as much if they had just aged out like they expected to (which also would have allowed her more time to mature), but instead her whole world changed overnight and it was just told oops! life shouldn't have been like that, now immediately adjust without being given any tools to actually do that and thus the Rule portion of her brain is a little off.

sorry if this doesn't make sense i havent slept <3 was going to update today but idk if i can edit like this so it might be tomorrow. this coming chapter has a tw for the same stuff from chapter 7 and the final chapter of toht btw but it will all be contained to this chapter. also adora breaks the law

[neonlights92]

RUN: Chapter IV

Jeon Jungkook hops from bed to bed, sleeping with as many beautiful, rich women as he can possibly find time for.  He’s young and attractive, with a silver tongue that gets him practically anything he wants.  So when his friend and boss, Kim Taehyung, tells him it’s time to settle down, Jungkook takes it pretty badly.  And when he finds out that the woman he’s destined to marry is, in fact, his little sister’s best friend, he is less than impressed.

You have spent your entire life trying to forget the way you feel about Jeon Jungkook.   So when you find out that Jungkook is to be your husband - and that he is anything but pleased about it - your world is thrown into chaos.  How can you survive a loveless marriage with the man you are hopelessly in love with?

WARNINGS: Language, some violence and smut.

A/N: SORRRRRRYYYYY!!!!

You were more confused than ever. 

When Jungkook had promised you a loveless marriage, you knew where you stood at least.

And now… Now what? 

He had kissed you and touched you - like no man ever had before - and now��. You were hungry for him. 

You’d always loved him of course.  Always longed for him.

But not like this.

Your mind kept replaying the other evening’s activities again and again.  Butterflies soared in your stomach just at the sight of Jungkook’s back. 

It was like you had unlocked a second part to your love - this one deeper, more visceral. 

It pained you to be close to him.  It pained you to be away from him.

And your husband…. 

Your husband acted like nothing was different.

In the weeks since that night, Jungkook went back to treating you as a friend.  He took you in his arms as soon as the lights went off - but apart from that, he didn’t touch you. 

You wondered if you’d done something wrong.  Had you offended him somehow? 

Was it because you hadn’t fulfilled your duty as you should? You wracked your brain again and again and again… But just came up empty handed. 

That night had been perfect.  Jungkook had been gentle and playful.  He treated you as though you were something precious to him.

Your heart swelled once again as you thought of the boyish grin he shot you… His fingers on your skin… His lips on your lips. 

God. 

You were like a woman obsessed. 

“Y/N?” 

You were pulled out of your reverie by your husband’s voice.  He was sat across the dining room table from you, his eyes scanning your appearance carefully. 

It seemed he had caught you out yet again on one of your day dreams…

It happened often these days.  Too caught up in remembering your husband’s touch, that you barely even noticed him when he was right in front of you.

“You seem distracted,” His smile was small, “Is everything ok?” 

You nodded and tried to smile back, “I’m fine.  Just uh… Tired.” 

He raised a brow but decided to say nothing, turning back to the sirloin steak he’d just been eating.

You speared a tomato onto your fork as you watched your husband eat, eyes following the planes of his handsome face and heart fluttering around your chest like a hummingbird.

Everything he did seemed to send you into a frenzy, and as his teeth closed around the piece of meat and you watched him swallow it down, your temperature sky-rocketed through the roof. 

Suddenly it was too hot.  You were seeing stars.  You felt like you might explode.

What on earth was wrong with you? 

You stood up quickly, chair scraping back loudly against the wooden floor, and Jungkook stopped what he was doing.

He dropped his fork and cocked his head to the side, “Everything alright?” 

You cleared your throat loudly, tucking your hair behind your ears and pressing your hands against your thighs. 

“Yes.”  You bit your bottom lip, “Yes.  Everything’s fine.  I just.  I’m not hungry.”

His eyes moved to your empty plate, “You’ve barely eaten anything.”

You laughed - the sound empty and hollow - and shrugged, feeling the nerves climbing up your spine.

Could he sense just how anxious you were? 

“I ate a big lunch.”  Your tummy coiled tightly, “I think I’ll just… Go.  To bed.” 

The word bed sent another rush of heat through you, and your cheeks flushed bright pink.  Jungkook’s face was a mask of neutrality.  He never gave a single thing away.

Why couldn’t you be the same?

Hadn’t you both been raised in the mob?

“Okay.”  He licked his bottom lip and your legs trembled at the sight, your hands reaching out to the edge of the table, to steady yourself, “I’ll come join you after I finish.”

You nodded tightly, moving away from him as quickly as possible. 

You felt his eyes following you, even as you left the room, but you refused to meet his gaze. 

That would mean things were truly over. 

Jungkook’s gaze could cut through you like a beam of light, almost.

It should’ve been embarrassing how he affected you.  And yet… You couldn’t bring yourself to care. 

You reached your bedroom and entered quickly, shutting the door behind you and leaning against the cool surface of it’s wood.  You took deep breaths in, calming yourself down, and steadying your pulse now that you were alone.

Your husband was going to be the death of you. 

Jungkook seemed to have no idea what he was doing to you.

And you couldn’t blame him for not knowing.

You were being absolutely ridiculous. 

Weak at the knees from the sight of him eating? 

How old were you?

What was wrong with you? That wasn’t how a woman of your age acted.  It was ridiculous.

And yet… You couldn’t hate yourself for it.

Something about this newfound lust for your husband seemed to send the blood in your veins fizzing.  You felt like a new woman.  Like a lioness had been set free inside of you.

It was cheesy - completely absurd even - but you couldn’t help it.

You wanted your husband to ravage you.

You giggled at your own thoughts, moving towards the ensuite bathroom and running the warm water.  Maybe a bath would help you relax.

It felt like you’d spent the entire evening tense in your husband’s presence - waiting for him to do something that would set you off again - and now your muscles were paying for it.  

You dropped some lavender into the bath, and ran a bubble bar under the tap, watching as foam formed across the steaming water.  This was exactly what you needed. 

The water was heaven against your skin as you sank into the tub, closing your eyes and ridding your mind of your husband’s handsome face.  You could think about him later, couldn’t you?  

Except his long, slender neck kept materialising in your mind's eyes.  You watched again and again as he swallowed the steak, and then slowly it was you he was swallowing.  Your thighs rubbed against one another in some attempt to quell the heat you felt in your core.

But it was just the same as it had been the last few weeks. 

Soon you couldn’t keep yourself occupied anymore, and your hand started to slide towards the apex between your legs.  You imagined it was Jungkook’s fingers dancing across your skin, moving against you - lips covering as much as they could.

It wasn’t the same of course but it would do.

Your fingers finally reached their destination, and you arched your back, wishing it was your husband’s tongue on you.

“Jungkookie,” You breathed, giggling at the nickname you knew he hated, “Oh God.”

A throat cleared itself from behind you. 

You sat up - ramrod straight - and whipped your head around to find your husband himself standing in the open doorway, arms crossed.

“What was that you called me?”  His eyes were dark with lust, “Jungkookie?”

“Oh.”  The word slipped out of  your mouth without your permission, “What are you doing here?” “I came to check up on you.”  He hadn’t moved from his position at the doorway, “I was worried about you.  You were acting so strange at dinner.”  A smile that was somewhere between kind and cruel played on his lips, “Now I know why.”

Your heart was slamming against your chest, as you remembered exactly where you were.

Naked.  In a bathtub.

Your husband didn’t seem to mind.

“Don’t stop on my account,” He rose a brow, “You seemed to be enjoying yourself.”

You felt yourself trembling.  He was enjoying this. 

This… Game.

He was enjoying the way you burned for him.

“I - oh… God.”  You were mortified - but somewhere beneath the shame was something brighter… Harder, “I’m sorry.”

He licked his lips and finally, finally took a step towards you.

“What for?”  He shook his head and came towards the bathtub, kneeling down so his face was level with yours, “I’m flattered my wife masturbates to the thought of me.  You only needed to ask if you wanted my help.”

Your cheeks were blazing, but the look in Jungkook’s eyes was dampening your embarrassment.  

“I didn’t think… I wasn’t sure.”  You licked your bottom lip and his gaze snapped down to your mouth, “I wasn’t sure you wanted me like that.  Again.”

His eyes lifted to your own once more, and this time it was like they were on fire.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you since that night Angel.”  His words were rough, coarse, “Believe me.  I want you like that again.  As many times as you want, actually.”

Your heart felt like it might rip itself out of your chest. 

His hand reached up to your face, and he stroked a finger down your cheek. 

You thought he might kiss you - you wanted him to kiss you so badly - but he pulled away after a moment, and his eyes disappeared down to your legs.  He couldn’t see you properly, not with the bubbles in the way, but he seemed to want to devour you.

“Can you touch yourself again for me?”  He asked after a moment, eyes sliding back up to your face, “I’ve never seen anything sexier.” 

You were sure you were about to hyperventilate. 

He had not just said that. 

He didn’t mean it.

He couldn’t, right?

Jungkook had been with some many more women before you - older, more worldly… Well seasoned.

And yet, his eyes were looking at you with absolute conviction.

You nodded after another long pause and he smiled - that smile that you loved - eyes crinkling into two crescent moons. 

He didn’t stand, as you thought he might, instead moving onto his knees and resting his chin on the edge of the bathtub.  

He nudged your hand and you started to move it down the length of your body, watching as Jungkook’s gaze stayed stuck on your fingers. 

“God.”  He whispered, as though to himself, “So fucking hot, Angel.”

Your hands disappeared under the water, and you felt yourself shiver as your fingers touched your most intimate place.  Your eyes closed then, focusing on your pleasure, and after a moment you felt your husband’s lips on your naked shoulder.  

You opened your eyes and watched as Jungkook licked his way up your neck to the shell of your ear - biting playfully on it.  You groaned at his ministrations, and almost moved your hand away from your centre, when his own fingers enveloped yours. 

“Jungkook - your shirt -” 

“Don’t care,” He groaned, moving his fingers against your own - soaking his probably very expensive clothes, “Jesus.  So hot.” 

You arched into his touch and tried to slip your hand away from under his but he wouldn’t let you.

“No, no Angel,” He whispered against your ear, alternating between kisses and licks, “This is a team effort, okay?” You nodded then, desperate to finish - desperate to make him happy.

Desperate that he was touching you again.

His nose nuzzled into the juncture of your shoulder and neck, and that was what did it for you.  That act of intimacy - the way he seemed to be enjoying every inch of your skin - tightened the coil in your core until it snapped, and you fell apart into a million tiny pieces.

Jungkook encouraged you through it, landing kisses wherever he could and petting your core carefully, wanting you to enjoy every second of it. 

After a moment, when you relaxed, he pulled away and you whined a little eyes still closed. 

“C’mon,”  He said softly, and you opened your eyes to meet with his, “This isn’t exactly comfortable, is it?” 

You shook your head and giggled a little at the look on his face.

So open - so inviting. 

His hand was reaching out to yours and you took it, no longer caring that you were naked, and standing up yourself.

His eyes scanned you hotly, and something akin to a blush covered your whole body.  When he looked at you again you shivered at the appreciation in his gaze. 

“Beautiful.”  He murmured as you stepped out of the bathtub, arms tightening around your waist and lifting you up effortlessly.

You laughed again at this, “I’m getting you all wet.” “Don’t care,” He answered honestly, lips meeting your own finally as he kissed you with all the fierce passion of somebody in love.

You tried to tuck your feelings for him away - to enjoy the moment as it came - but you couldn’t help it.  Your heart was swelling to nearly double the size, you loved him so much.

Jungkook carried you over to the bedroom, laying you down on the bed carefully and climbing on top of you.  His arms caged around you, but you felt safer than you ever had.

You knew he’d never hurt you - never force you to do something you didn’t want to.

“Take this off,” You whispered after a moment, tugging on the collar of his shirt, “I want to see.” 

He smirked then, in that way that was so quintessential Jungkook. 

“Alright Angel.  So needy.” 

You didn’t even deny it, nodding furiously as you watched the shirt slide off his shoulders.  You gasped when his chest was revealed, not even attempting to hide your astonishment.

He was so… Beautiful.

He groaned at the look on your face, cupping your cheeks and pressing a hot kiss against your mouth.

“Don’t look at me like that.”  He whispered against your lips, “You’re driving me crazy.”

“I could say the same for you,” You answered back, voice hoarse with desire, “Your pants, Jungkookie.” He pulled away and rose a brow at the nickname.  You bit your bottom lip and smiled.

“Please?” The word slipped out of you - sweet as honey.  He laughed.

“Alright,” He pressing a hand to your forehead and then started working on his belt buckle, “But only because you said please.” 

You watched as your husband stepped out of his trousers - heart hammering against your chest as he stood glorious as ever, in a pair of tight, black boxers.

You knew what tonight might end with.  You knew what you were offering up to him.

But the truth was… He’d had your heart… Your body… Your soul, since a long time ago. 

So you weren’t scared.  Quite the opposite in fact.

You were ready for this.

You were ready for him.

He kissed you again - fervently - and you felt the blood rise to the very tips of your ears.  God.  You loved him so much, it felt like you might burst. 

He tugged his boxers down, and you felt him pressed up against your thigh.  It might have made you anxious, were it anyone else, but with Jungkook it just felt… Right.

He pulled away slightly, eyes meeting your own, “Is this… Okay?  Do you want to slow down?”

You shook your head quickly, hands coming up to cup his face.

“No.  I want this.”  You cleared your throat, “I want you Jungkook.  Make me yours.”

Your husband’s eyes softened then, and you saw something deeper than just affection or lust.  You saw something whole and full.  Something you’d felt for him for so many years.

Your heart soared. 

Could your husband learn to love you, too? “Okay,” He whispered against your lips, “It might hurt a little Angel.  I’m sorry if it does.” You shook your head, “I don’t care Jungkook.  As long as it’s with you.” His face seemed to melt then, like butter on a hot day, and his fingers pushed into you - opening you up for what  you knew was coming.

And then he was inside you.  He slid in gently, slowly, and though it hurt - you knew you could handle it.  He stopped and pulled away slightly, hands moving your hair out of your face - eyes roving your features.

“Are you okay?” He whispered, and his lips were so close to your own it was like he was kissing you.

You nodded, “I’m fine.  I promise.  You can move, please.”

He smiled then - soft and caring - and you knew the love you had for him was shining in your eyes, but you didn’t really care.  Not anymore.

When he started moving inside of you, you pressed your hands against his back, pulling him closer, wanting his skin against your own.  He was so precious to you.  So perfect.

And he was yours, wasn’t he?

He had to be.

His lips covered your own and you felt him tightening, tightening, tightening and you knew what was coming.  He pulled back slightly, eyes screwed shut.

“Is it okay if I -” 

You nodded quickly, frantically, “Anything you want Jungkook.  Anything.” His eyes opened then and they were so beautiful - so open and honest and you felt like you might drown in them.

And the words slipped out of you, before you even really knew what was happening.

“I love you,” You whispered just as Jungkook reached the peak of his pleasure.  

His eyes widened as they met yours, and you smiled.

Even if he didn’t love you back… It didn’t matter.  Because he was yours.  

He had to be.

He collapsed on top of you after he was finished, breathing heavily, and you enjoyed his closeness with open arms - running your fingers up and down his naked back.  After a moment he pulled away - a small smile on his face.

“That was…” 

“Amazing?”  You supplied, grinning.

He pressed a hand to your cheek and kissed the side of your mouth, “Yeah.  Amazing.” Your heart swelled. 

Maybe all was not hopeless.

//

Your husband was gone when you woke the next morning.

His side of the bed was cold, and even though he wasn’t there to greet you, you were still warm from his touch.

Everything had changed between you… Hadn’t it?

It couldn’t stay the same. 

Not after the way he’d kissed you.  Not after the way he’d held you. 

You sighed to yourself feeling light and frothy inside.  He hadn’t said he loved you - but the way he’d looked at you last night…

He could learn to love you.  Your marriage didn’t have to be cold and desolate as he’d promised you.  Things were changing. 

You stood slowly, legs sore and aching - and pulled a nightgown around you.  It had been hours since you’d had a drink of water - and you blushed as you thought of how much exercise you’d actually endured since last night.  

You tried to make yourself look as presentable as possible… But secretly, you sort of wanted all of the help to wonder if Jungkook had finally made you yours.

It was silly, maybe, but the thought of others knowing that your husband wanted you in any capacity, brought a glow to your skin. 

You slipped your feet into some slippers and smiled to yourself, stepping out of your bedroom and almost skipping down the hallway.

It felt almost like you were floating on a cloud.

You started making your way towards the kitchen - intending to make yourself a quick breakfast - when you noticed that the door to Jungkook’s study was slightly ajar.  You crept towards it, intending to surprise him with your presence, when you noticed he wasn’t alone.

Your heart swam all the way into your throat as you noticed that Jungkook was standing in front of a woman.  

You couldn’t see her face - only the back of her head - but you knew it was a woman when she spoke. 

“You promised you’d wait for me.” There was a tremble in her voice.

“I couldn’t… There wasn’t anything I could do.  It was decided for me.” 

Jungkook’s eyes were unreadable.  You felt your chest tighten.

“This was why you kept me a secret,” You could hear the tears in her voice, “This was why you kept up the pretense of fucking around.  So you could marry her?” 

Your husband’s eyes widened and he stepped towards her, grabbing her by the arms. 

“Keep your voice down Violetta,” His voice was soothing, “She’ll hear you.”

Her shoulders were shaking and you realised she was crying, “I don’t care Jungkook.  I thought you loved me.  Was I wrong?”

There was a long beat of silence.  Your husband’s eyes softened then, and the mask dissolved. 

“Violetta…” 

And then she reached up and pulled your husband towards her.  And she kissed him.

Your heart cracked right down the middle and you choked back a sob.   Jungkook pulled away from her almost immediately - his eyes darting to meet with yours.

He’d heard you.

“Y/N!” 

He moved away from Violetta and as you turned, your eyes connected with hers. 

She was beautiful.

Your world crumbled like dust around you, and you spun around quickly, running towards your bedroom and slamming the door shut.  You used the locks your husband had assured you were only a precaution, and fell to the ground - leaning against the surface of the portal. 

After a moment, Jungkook’s voice came from the other side.

“Y/N.” You didn’t say anything.  

“Y/N.  Please.  Open the door.”

The sobs started rolling through your body. 

“Y/N… Please.  Y/N please, let me talk to you.”

It was too late.

Too late.

You felt like you were collapsing in on yourself - like a dying star.

Violetta.

Violetta.

That was who he loved.  Not you.

Never you.

//

[machine-gun-casie]

tavern music

synopsis: corpse hears tavern music coming from your room (gn!reader)

warnings: rpf, reader gets cheated on, kind of unrequited feelings, mostly hurt/comfort and physical affection tho (what im trying to say is that this is mostly self indulgent)

wc: 1.7k

a/n: havent written in a while but i found this in my arsenal, fixed it up a bit and viola. original plans for this was definitely something longer that would end with them being together but im not up for writing rn. been feeling really shitty lately and ive been needing something like this in my life. hope u guys like it ♡

He couldn’t hear it at first. His headset was on and everyone was being so loud on the discord call. When he started the stream, he really thought it was gonna be a long one. But he’s only two hours in and he’s ready to get the hell off because something was definitely wrong.

“Corpse?” His name being spoken finally broke him out of his trance, he only hummed in response. “You’ve been really quiet. Are you sure you’re up for another game?”

“Actually,” he starts as he closes a few tabs, “I think I’ve gotta go. Today was fun, though. Thanks for having me guys.”

After a chorus of ‘goodbye’s and ‘see you later’s, Corpse disconnected from the discord call. “Thank you guys for being here,” he addressed the chat, “sorry I’m ending so early today. I promise I’ll make it up to you next time. Take care of yourselves. Later.”

After hanging up his headset and getting out of the chair he’s been sitting in for far too long, Corpse made the short trek to your room. 

You had only been roommates for less than four months, but Corpse could confidently say that you have become one of his closest friends. Getting a roommate was the last resort that he never wanted to actually resort to. But alas, medical bills were piling up and youtube and music don’t make half as much money as people think they do. So cutting rent in half was the best plan he could come up with. He did have an extra guest room that no one ever stayed in. Of course having someone move into his personal space was terrifying to him. He didn’t just want to post an ad on craigslist or something. So he asked a couple trusted friends to ask a couple trusted friends… And that’s when you came in.

You were the trusted friend of a trusted friend of a trusted friend. When you met, you didn’t make a comment about his voice. Your face sure as hell showed your surprise but you didn’t say anything. To Corpse, this meant one of two things. You either knew who he was but didn’t want to freak him out, or you didn’t know about his online persona and were just genuinely shocked by his voice. It only took a few minutes of knowing you to know that it was the latter. Thank god. You were like anyone your age with social media. You had a few accounts, followed a few people, but mostly used it to stay in contact with friends. 

It only took you guys a week to realize you had way too much in common. After many a late night when he wasn’t streaming, and many an early morning when he was just done streaming, you two became inseparable. Nothing could keep you apart.

Except for one thing.

You had a boyfriend.

There was nothing wrong with your boyfriend, per se. Just the fact that he was your boyfriend and Corpse was not. 

Yeah, Corpse definitely had feelings for you. 

But right now, feelings didn’t matter when he could hear tavern music coming from your room.

He knocked lightly and pushed the door open slowly. “y/n? Can I come in?”

No response came, just sniffles and sobs. The lack of refusal on your part gave him the courage he needed to open the door wider and step into your room. He had only been in your room a couple of times since you had moved in. But he had never been in a room that gave off the feeling of a person so well.

You were curled up on your bed, facing your open laptop screen and the tavern music coming from its speakers. With every sob shaking your chest, Corpse felt his heart break. “y/n,” he murmured softly, “what’s wrong?”

“It’s not working.” Came your reply, heavy with tears. “You said it would make you feel like you're going on an adventure but I still feel like crap.”

“What happened?” Corpse asked as he sat down on your bed, facing you. You slowly sat up and crossed your legs at your ankles in front of you.

“He-” You sighed heavily. “He cheated on me.”

“What?”

“He cheated on me -has been cheating on me- with my best friend. My little brother found out.” You groaned and dramatically dropped your head onto Corpse’s thigh. His hand immediately came in contact with your cheek as he brushed a few stray tears away.

There was rarely any physical contact between you and Corpse. Sometimes you’d give him a high five, sometimes he’d give you fist bump. And there was that one time you came up behind him at the grocery store and hugged his arm to your chest. You immediately whispered something along the lines of ‘creep won’t leave me alone’ followed by a loud ‘hey babe!’

Corpse could barely admit to himself how much he liked that.

But this? This felt good. Corpse’s large warm hand on your face somehow made you want to cry more but in a good way. The tenderness with which he held your face made your heart squeeze as it remembered moments like this with your boyf- ex boyfriend. But then it remembered your brother’s words.

“Hey, what’s up?” You spoke as you answered his call. Your brother wasn’t much of a caller, so it made you worry. 

“Hey, where are you right now?”

“I’m home, why?”

“y/n… There’s something I gotta tell you.” He sighed and you could clearly hear the guilt.

“Did you break my DS!” It was your first thought as you had given it to him the last time you had seen him. “Dude! I’ve had that since I was seven!”

“No no, I called about something else.” He cut you off mid-whine. “But also I did lose the pen.” You huffed out a sigh of frustration but stayed silent so he could tell you what he wanted to tell you. “I saw your boyfriend at the park today.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “And?” How did this warrant a phone call? 

“He was with Bob.” 

When you had met your best friend, your brother was only a toddler. He had decided that her name was Bob, so it stuck. You always called her Bob, she was saved as Bob in your phone, your whole family called her Bob. But you still didn't understand. Why was he calling you to tell you that your boyfriend and your best friend were at the park? 

“Why are you calling me about this? You know that they’re friends, right?” You let out a chuckle, albeit still pretty confused. “They’re allowed to hang out without me.” 

“They weren’t hanging out.” You could hear your brother push out a strained sigh. What wasn’t he telling you? “They were making out on the swing set. As in, both of them on one swing. And I double checked, it was definitely them. I-I told mom and she said not to tell you, but I couldn’t not tell you when I’m the one who saw it!”

You couldn’t bring yourself to say a word.

“I’m sorry, y/n.”

There was no lying to yourself, you had doubts about your best friend and your boyfriend. But you constantly brushed it off. He wouldn’t hurt you like that. Hell, she couldn’t hurt like that. Not after everything you had been through together. 

But you had seen his call log by accident one time, he called her more than he did you. She face-timed him one time to ask his opinion about a dress she was going to buy while you were in the changing room. She had done a handful of things since your relationship with your boyfriend started that made you uneasy. If this was their first kiss, which was something you doubted, then they’ve both been emotionally attached to the other for far too long.

All those tender intimate moments, all those dates, throughout everything, he wasn’t faithful. Not emotionally, at least. None of those moments that you cherished meant anything to you anymore. He had played you. With none other than your best friend since middle school. You didn’t know who to be more mad at.

The thoughts of betrayal from someone who you considered a sister and the hurt of being cheated on made you nauseated.

So when the large warm hand on your face stroked your cheek again, you didn’t mind it. This was Corpse. Not your cheating boyfriend. Not your lying best friend. Corpse. And you knew that he would never hurt you.

“He’s been cheating on me for a while I think.” You mumbled against his sweatpants. “Maybe a couple months. I don’t know.” 

Corpse furrowed his brows in thought. You had told him you were going to visit your boyfriend for your one year anniversary next week. “Weren’t you go-”

“Yeah.”

“And Bob’s been your friend since-”

“Yeah.” Your chin wobbled as you answered. You brought your arms up around Corpse’s thigh and hugged it. It was a strange position, but you didn’t care. He was so warm and nice and hugging him properly required more movement on your end than you were willing to do.

“Oh, sweetheart.” Corpse sighed and reached out to untangle your arms from his leg. He gently pulled you across the few inches of bed between you and sat you in his lap. You wrapped your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist, immediately sobbing into his shoulder. “Do you want me to turn off the music?” You shook your head no against him and he chuckled before he solemnly sighed. “When did you find out?” 

“When I came home.”

“But you came home hours ago. Have you been in here this whole time?” You nodded. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You were streaming, didn’t wanna interrupt.” You shrugged.

“y/n,” he sighed disappointedly, “you’re my best friend. I can end a stream if you need me.”

“Okay.” Your voice, broken and weak and tired, made him feel so guilty. You had been crying your heart out for over two hours just down the hall from where he was.

He gently grabbed you by your hips and tried to push you away, but you only held on tighter and whimpered. “I just wanna get you some water.”

“I don’t want water.”

“Then what do you want?”

“You.” You whispered. “Please stay.” 

Fuck. How could he say no to that?

So he stayed.

[yanderememes]

Hey I absolutely love your account! You're blog is high tier quality and its awesome 👌

Now see I am a follower in need of assistance. See, there is another JJBA tumblr that has all sorts of cool art and I have been trying to find it for AGES now. I was wondering if you maybe had any idea what it was??? This person drew moth Bruno, shark Risotto, ect and for the life of me I can not find it anywhere. They also had a link to their wattpad with more steamy art 👀 but I have scoured both wattpad and tumblr to no avail. Its been a while since ive been on their account so I hope im just being a dumb and its not deleted 😭

Thank you for your time! LOVE YOU AND YOUR BLOG, KEEP UP THE GOOD WORK 💗💗💗

Thank you! Your support and compliments mean a lot!

Hmm, the only other JJBA tumbler I know that does art like that is @plumsprincess-n-peaches who does amazing art of La Squadra!

I hope you find your mystery artist soon and wish you the best of luck!

Once again, thanks for the love and support

[qqueenofhades]

Hi, I’ve been tasked with researching Richard Plantagenet for a paper and thus far found extremely negative accounts of the king, his religious bigotry being a reoccurring theme (his treatment of Jewish dignitaries attending his coronation and his reasoning to join the third crusade etc)

I stumbled across your wonderful tag for Richard at the weekend and wondered if you wouldn’t mind sharing your informed opinion of Richard and his views on religions ? Your writing seems very well balanced regarding his attributes and flaws. Thanks :)

Oof. Okay. So, a short and simple question, then?

Quick note: when I was first reading your ask and saw "Richard Plantagenet," I briefly assumed that you meant Richard Plantagenet, father of Edward IV, or perhaps Richard III, both from the Wars of the Roses in the fifteenth century, before seeing from context that you meant Richard I. While "Plantagenet" was first used as an informal appellation by Richard I's grandfather, Geoffrey of Anjou, it wasn't until several centuries later that the English royal house started to use it consistently as a surname. So it's not something that Richard I would have been really called or known by, even if historians tend to use it as a convenient labeling conceit. (See: the one thousand popular histories on "The Plantagenets" that have been published recently.)

As for Richard I, he is obviously an extremely complex and controversial figure for many reasons, though one of the first things that you have to understand is that he has been mythologized and reinvented and reinterpreted down the centuries for many reasons, especially his crusade participation and involvement in the Robin Hood legends. When you're researching about Richard, you're often reading reactions/interpretations of that material more than anything specifically rooted in the primary sources. And while I am glad that you asked me about this and want to encourage you to do so, I will gently enquire to start off: when you say "research," what kind of materials are you looking at, exactly? Are these actual published books/papers/academic material, or unsourced stuff on the internet written from various amateur/ideological perspectives and by people who have particular agendas for depicting Richard as the best (or as is more often the case, worst) ever? Because history, to nobody's surprise, is complicated. Richard did good things and he also did quite bad things, and it's difficult to reduce him to one or the other.

Briefly (ha): I'll say just that if a student handed me a paper stating that Richard was a religious bigot because a) there were anti-Jewish riots during his coronation and b) he signed up for the Third Crusade, I would seriously question it. Medieval violence against the Jews was an unfortunately endemic part of crusade preparations, and all we know about Richard's own reaction is that he fined the perpetrators harshly (repeated after a similar March 1190 incident in York) and ordered for them to be punished. Therefore, while there famously was significant anti-Semitic violence at his coronation, Richard himself was not the one who instigated it, and he ordered for the Londoners who did take part in it to be punished for breaking the king's peace.

This, however, also doesn't mean that Richard was a great person or that he was personally religiously tolerant. We don't know that and we often can't know that, whether for him or anyone else. This is the difficulty of inferring private thoughts or beliefs from formal records. This is why historians, at least good historians, mostly refrain from speculating on how a premodern private individual actually thought or felt or identified. We do know that Richard likewise also made a law in 1194 to protect the Jews residing in his domains, known as Capitula Judaeis. This followed in the realpolitik tradition of Pope Calixtus II, who had issued Sicut Judaeis in c. 1120 ordering European Christians not to harass Jews or forcibly convert them. This doesn't mean that either Calixtus or Richard thought Jews were great, but they did choose a different and more pragmatic/economic way of dealing with them than their peers. This does not prove "religious bigotry" and would need a lot more attention as an analytical concept.

As for saying that the crusades were motivated sheerly by medieval religious bigotry, I'm gonna have to say, hmm, no. Speaking as someone with a PhD in medieval history who specialised in crusade studies, there is an enormous literature around the question of why the crusades happened and why they continue to hold such troubling attraction as a pattern of behavior for the modern world. Yes, Richard went on crusade (as did the entire Western Latin world, pretty much, since 1187 and the fall of Jerusalem was the twelfth century's 9/11). But there also exists material around him that doesn't exist around any other crusade leader, including his extensive diplomatic relations with the Muslims, their personal admiration for him, his friendship with Saladin and Saladin's brother Saif al-Din, the fact that Arabic and Islamic sources can be more complimentary about Richard than the Christian records of his supposed allies, and so forth. I think Frederick II of Sicily, also famous for his friendly relationships with Muslims, is the only other crusade leader who has this kind of material. So however he did act on crusade, and for whatever reasons he went, Richard likewise chose the pragmatic path in his interactions with Muslims, or at least the Muslim military elite, than just considering them all as religious barbarians unworthy of his time or attention.

The question of how the crusades functioned as a pattern of expected behavior for the European Christian male aristocrat, sometimes entirely divorced from any notion of his private religious beliefs, is much longer and technical than we can possibly get into. (As again, I am roughly summarising a vast and contentious field of academic work for you here, so... yes.) Saying that the crusades happened only because medieval people were all religious zealots is a wild oversimplification of the type that my colleague @oldshrewsburyian and I have to deal with in our classrooms, and likewise obscures the dangerous ways in which the modern world is, in some ways, more devoted to replicating this pattern than ever. It puts it beyond the remit of analysis and into the foggy "Dark Ages hurr durr bad" stereotype that drives me batty.

Weighted against this is the fact that Richard obviously killed many Muslims while on crusade, and that this was motivated by religious and ideological convictions that were fairly standard for his day but less admirable in ours. The question of how that violence has been glorified by the alt-right people who think there was nothing wrong with it at all and he should have done more must also be taken into account. Richard's rise to prominence as a quintessentially English chivalrous hero in the nineteenth century, right when Britain was building its empire and needed to present the crusades as humane and civilizing missions abroad rather than violent and generally failed attempts at forced conversion and conquest, also problematized this. As noted, Richard was many things, but... not that, and when the crusades fell out of fashion again in the twentieth century, he was accordingly drastically villainized. Neither the superhero or the supervillain images of him are accurate, even if they're cheap and easy.

The English nationalists have a complicated relationship with Richard: he represents the ideal they aspire to, aesthetically speaking, and the kind of anti-immigrant sentiment they like to put in his mouth, which is far more than the historical Richard actually displayed toward his Muslim counterparts. (At least, again, so far as we can know anything about his private beliefs, but this is what we can infer from his actions in regard to Saladin, who he deeply respected, and Saladin's brother.) But he was also thoroughly a French knight raised and trained in the twelfth-century martial tradition, his concern for England was only as a minor part of the sprawling 'Angevin empire' he inherited from his father Henry II (which is heresy for the Brexit types who think England should always be the center of the world), and his likely inability to speak English became painted as a huge character flaw. (Notwithstanding that after the Norman Conquest in 1066, England did not have a king who spoke English natively until Henry IV in 1399, but somehow all those others don't get blamed as much as Richard.)

Anyway. I feel as if it's best to stop here. Hopefully this points you toward the complexity of the subject and gives you some guidelines in doing your own research from here. :)

[dystopia-fantasy]

Always read the job description -Part 1

Max was a fit, well built man. He had been body building since he was 14 and now In his early 40s he has the body of a god, but is slowly getting to the age when he needs to find another way to make money. He knows he can't take part in his competitions anymore, and needs to take it easy. He got great grades in school and college, proving people wrong that you can't be a nerd in a jock body.

Max had some money saved and was able to keep up on bills for a few months but needed a job to keep his large house, in the rich area of the city. He got a call from a business he applied to a couple of days ago, telling him to go in for an interview tomorrow, and if it goes well he will be sent straight on a trip for the company. He gets his new blue suit ready to be worn the next day.

The morning arrives, it's 5am, and Max wakes. He does his normal morning routine, making breakfast, working out, taking a shower, then gets his suit on ready for his early morning interview. Driving to the office building in the middle of New York, it's at least 50 stories high, and is made of mostly glass, and is one of the newest modern builds in the city.

On arrival a large man in his late 60s wearing a suit greets him, "hello sir, you must be max, Sir Mammon is on his way down to collect you, may I say what an amazing suit you have on today".

Max looks the man up and down, seeing the man's huge belly flowing out from under his dress shirt, showing a massive W shape, "thanks mate, you might want a bigger shirt" then points to his belly.

"sorry if I offended you sir, but all clothing has been chosen by Sir Mammon himself" Mammon is the big boss of the business "if you would like to make a complaint I can print you a form".

Max laughs, "No thanks, I'm gonna sit over there, tell Mammon im there".

"will do sir, have a great day" the man says while max walks away paying no more attention to him.

About 15 minutes later a young handsome slender man walks over. "Max is it?" He says behind Max.

"yes.." max says confused.

"I'm Mammon, nice to meet you" he smiles holding his hand out for a shake.

"oh hello Mammon, is wasn't expecting someone so young, no offence of course" max shaking his hand.

Mammon let's out a little laugh, with a little grin "it's ok max, people don't expect someone like me to own such a remarkable company like this one would you like to follow me, we can go up to my office, this is Mark by the way, he's my Butler". Mark is another large man aged around 50, he has a massive belly stuffed into his suit, hes huffing and puffing, like he ran a marithon, "don't mind him, most of my staff are..."

Max cuts him off "fat?"

They both laugh, "you could say that Max" the elevator arrives and they all walk in, "now max, you did read the whole advertisement correct?".

Max didn't, it's was 48 pages long, who would read it all? He just looked at the wage he would get, it started at $100,000 per month. "Yes, I did".

"that's good, most guys are more keen to keep their body's but I guess if your struggling you'll do anything."

Max now confused just nod's and watches though the glass elevator as they fly up to the top floor.

"where here sir" Mark the butler says peacefully in his British accent.

They walk into the room, and Mammon sits at his desk pouring himself a glass of wisky, and Max one too. Max looks around in aww, the room was covered in art work, with the walls painted in golds and whites and had its own bar. "How do you have all this money?" Max asked.

"a mix of many things, this company, and a few investments paid for this whole building, I have many other ways but we're not here for that." Mammon points at the seat," take a seat max" Max sits the chair is made from leather and is very comfy. "So, max, I've gone through your file, I think you're perfect for the job."

"so, does that mean I have the job?" Max replies confused, expecting to be asked a question.

"well yes, if you agree to the terms"

"terms?" Max still confused.

"well yes, you expect to be paid 10times the amount the normal person for this job without any terms or conditions?"

"well I didn't know.." Max gets cut off.

"Max let me simplify them for you. You sacrifice your body to the company, and in trade you get, $100k X the amount you weigh paid into your account per month, So if you weigh 450lbs, you get $450k a month."

"what the fuck? That's sick, I'm not doing that, I'm leaving" and with that Max got up from the chair and stood face to face with Mammon, with the desk all that is separating them. "Your sick, you fa**ot".

With that Mammon's eyes glow a bright red. "I'm a what?" Max got through back against the chair by an invisible force. "Max you could have just left with your freedom, but now look what you've gotten yourself into".

"Let me go, What the fuck?" Max says while traped against that chair, it chreeking with the force of his muscle.

"I'm a fucking demon max, I'm never going to 'let you go'" he took a second break to mock max, "now, what did you say? Fa**ot, was it?".

"fuck, I didn't mean it" the force pins him down harder, trapping his arms against the leather chair arms, and pushing his legs against the underboard. "Please let me go home, I won't do it again."

"shut up max, the process is already starting".

Max looks down to see his body deflating, his pecs turning from mountain peaks to a flat surface, his giant powerful arms turning weak and light. And then looking up he sees a whole new man infront of him.

"Not as big as I thought I would get, but boy I'm big" he took a break to admire his new giant arms and pecs.

"what the?" Max looks in confusion, "how did you do that? Give me them back".

"what are you gonna do max? I'm an infinitely powerful being and you, your an old man, or at least your going to be."

"I'm only 42, what do you mean, going to be?"

"you see I don't have my infinite life span on earth, so to stay alive and in this fit body, I absorb anything a guy has and I want. In your case, these massive muscles, but then I need to absorb their life force as well, in order to make sure I don't age."

"what do you mean life force?"

"well, you have roughly 50 years, worth of life left, I'll drain about 20 years leaving you in your future crippled body at around age 60, force you to work for the company for another 20 years, then when your 80 drain the rest of your life, which after you get fat won't be much, then you got to hell."

"man your sick, let me go, LET ME GO!".

A bright red light shoots from Peters hand enveloping Max's whole body, and he starts to age, his face wrinkling, skin dropping, eye sight worsening, hearing getting muffled, and mind changing a little. "Max, you ok old man?".

"yes sir" max was confused in his mind, why did he say sir?

"max, you ready for your Cruise? You can have tones of food for the next 6 months."

"Yes sir, I'm ready" max lifts his head, opening his eyes to see a new blurry room from his new old eyes.

"you're gonna need these from now on" Peters eyes glow and a new pair of glasses appear on Max's face he can now see clear.

"thank you... Sir", max blinks seeing Peter infront of him, "what have you, done to me".

"Max, I've turned you into the perfect office worker, old, brainiac, who is soon going to get fat and live the rest of his life, in an office chair for me, don't worry for accomodation you live here now, we have apartments on floor 30 to 40, all workers live here, it's policy, we have also sent a team to your house to, well, blow it up, that way nobody is going to be looking for you, becuase we can plant a body"

"give me... My.... Body back, give me... My.. life back."

"Max we both know that will never happen, now enjoy a life of gluttony, and prepare yourself for hell, that's gonna be worse then anything I can do to you." Peter snaped his fingers and a red glow enveloped max.

Recovering from the glow max sees two men infront of him with a trolly of sorts between them. "Is he awake" one says,

"I don't know" said the other.

"im- awake" max said in a much older raspy voice.

"good we can now start the feeding" the man on the left said, his body as muscled as a god, ripped from head to toe, and we can see everything.

Max rubs his eyes under his glasses and opens them again, "Fucking hell, put some clothes on both of you".

Both men where nude, one a ripped god, another muscled up but with a big gut. "Clothes are banned here mate" the beefy man said in a type of Australia accent, "you cant say much fella, look at that tiny pecker".

The men laughed pointing at Max's shriveled up old cock and low hanging balls, "what the fuck"max tries to move his arm to cover him but his arm doesn't move, he looks down to see him stuck in a chair, with a cut out hole under his ass, and straps tying him down, trapping him. "What... Are you gonna do to me?" Max asked sceared.

The men laughed at him again, "no need to act to sceared, we're here to feed you for the next 6 months".

"but... Sir said..." Max get cut off.

"he said you'd be going on a cruise? Fucking hell are you dumb? He's a demon, you shouldn't trust a demon" The muscled guy says.

"bro let's start the feeding we have 50 other guys to see and I wanna watch football Tonight." The beefy guys says, and in unison both their eyes glowed a bright red, showing they where demons too.

The trolly between them had several items on top, one long tube, which floated in the air for a few moments before shoving itself down maxes nostril and deep into his stomach, his head flipped back trying to wriggle it out, but it was stuck. Another item moved into his frame, a IV bag holder, holding a giant barrel type object made of glass, and two large bags floated of the table again and started to drain into the barrel, and the tube connected itself to it, starting a flow of the liquid into maxes stomach.

"done" the beffy guy said. "Now we'll be back tomorrow to refill your barrel, and clean you up if you make a mess, but youll basically be unconscious for the next 6 months, due to the drugs were feeding you."

"so enjoy your sleep mate, you'll litterally wake up a different man." The two men laughed and walked out, max tried fighting the restraints but in his crippled form could do nothing. The door slammed and locked, and the room fell dark, max screamed begging into the darkness to be let free, and to have his life back, which he had only an hour before, but nothing happened, nobody came. He felt the drugs taking effect, but tried to fight back, but it was useless, his body slumped and loosened. His mind fell blank as he drifted of into his 6 month hibernation.

[bitchassbucky]

.eps (explicit)

Word Count: 2k

Warning/s: dark!bucky x dark!reader, MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, blood mention, gore and dismemberment/beheading, murder, toxic/abusive relationship dynamics, sedation/drugging/use of sedative, stockholm syndrome-ish, one very special character reveal

A/N: i told y'all there's more <3 the special character treat is for @sarge-barnes-sir mwah!

this is queued shdhhsh gonna fix the links in the mornin’

PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS ABOVE, IF YOU DON'T WANT TO READ THIS VERSION, GO AND CHECK OUT THE NON-EXPLICIT VERSION.

follow the CTRL series:

i - .exe

ii - .avi

iii - .raw

iv - .png

v - .zip

CTRL playlist CTRL moodboard

Safeness, comfortability, warmth are all but a false sense of reality.

When a prey takes down its walls, the predator moves in. Camouflaged in familiar colors, in words that you’re used to hearing, in praises, in lies. Most predators use the mask of the night to move in darkness—unyielding and calculated. Come morning, there will be only one left alive, tainted with victory and bloodshed.

You and Bucky have been engaging in a dance for two—a battle of who’s willing to take the leap of faith and unleash hell upon the other.

Stifled smiles and pursed lips.

The air is filled with unsaid irritants, little things that ticked away like bombs.

There was no time for pleading, no time for mercy, no rest for the wicked.

Did you still love each other?

How far are you willing to go to keep up with his… complacency?

Bucky’s mundane life already taking a toll on you. The endless nightmares of him feeling you. The swirling vision of Bucky being with you every waking—and sleeping—moment: it grates your soul to shreds.

“We’ll be together forever, right?”

“Yes, darling.”

“What about the day after forever?”

“That too, honey.”

Where was the man you loved so deeply? The man that broke his morals just to be with you?

Was he under this hull of a Yes Man? A poor little thing that says ‘yes’ to everything like a puppy.

The man you held so dearly now slipping away, chipping his humanity, shedding the once-human.

“Would you marry me tomorrow if I asked you?”

“Of course, baby, why wouldn’t I?”

“Would you kill for me?”

“I’m meant to do the same for you.”

It’s irritating how Bucky gave up too quickly. Too fast, moving too fast. The gazelle let the lion tear its neck as it lay there, unmoving, letting the blood seep into its hide.

When you first met Bucky, it was your own fairytale unfolding before your eyes. Kismet, reality, forgiveness from above. He was soft and shy, passionate, lively.

Far from what you expected from a man his age—you blame Steve for forcing you into his narrative before. That all men are out to get you. They will hurt you. They will use you and leave you for good. But Bucky? Bucky came in like a knight. He saved you from the carcass of your past. He saved you from the sins that you prayed and knelt for.

Bucky taught you how to love.

Bucky taught you how to live for yourself.

Bucky taught you that being alone doesn’t mean you have to be lonely.

“It was an unspoken little thing, wasn’t it?”

“What thing, baby?”

“Our love.”

“Yes, honey, it was.”

He worships you.

He worships you like a fucking God and you hate it.

Suffocating, too suffocating. You dove straight for the water and now you’re drowning.

Do you still love each other? The question hangs in the air, heavy with its weight, light as a feather.

It’s all your fault. It’s all your fault. It’s all your fault. It’s all your fault.

So you stand there with a syringe half-filled with a horse sedative. It’s a concern how easy it is to waltz into a pet store and pick up a general anesthetic. You make a mental note to look at it later.

Bucky’s body slumps forward, his forehead meeting the edge of the table with a dull thud. If the overdose doesn’t kill him, the weeping crack in his head will.

Holy fuck, humans bleed a lot. And fast. Good thing you already have that clear tarp taped down. Even with the hush money stuffed down your throat, it would take a good nick to regrout the kitchen.

“What is that for, honey?”

“I’m painting the cabinets.”

“Okay, darling.”

So you let him bleed, surprised that the liquid is redder than what you thought it would be. A soft gurgling noise came from Bucky, the last of air escaping his dead body. You stood there, syringe in hand, as you thought how to dispose of a six-foot-tall man without arousing suspicion.

Not that he’ll be missed anyway: the local news and the internet already branded him as a psycho and you as a victim. You were both victims in this fairytale. They reported his case as “skipped the town like the sicko he is.” So, no—no one’s going to look for him.

The sun was high up in the sky and there was a dead body in your kitchen.

A butcher and a surgeon walks into a bar for a drink. “What do you do for a living?” Said the butcher, “I save lives! What about you?” The doctor answers. “I save animals from dying slowly. We’re basically the same. You’re just very clean.” You see, the butcher comes into the bar covered in blood, reeking of death. The surgeon, on the other hand, wears his white coat with pride even though he’s surrounded by death every passing second.

Today was the day you learned that you have the tools of a butcher and the precision of a surgeon. Unlike before.

You carefully take Bucky’s fingers off of his left hand, leaving a skin flap on the edge of the last knuckle for you to stitch close later. Four promises. Four goddamn promises and he broke all of them.

It was his fault that he’s dead. He made you do this.

Starting with his left shoulder, you jab the knife between the bone and the soft flesh of his armpit, bringing the blade downwards. The sickening smell of blood swirled along with the image of muscle and fat being sliced made you gag.

Does the brain know that it’s seeing something it shouldn’t?

A rational part of you wanted to look away but the time is ticking, it’ll be much harder once rigor mortis sets in an hour.

You swing the knife down, cracking the bone once, and then again, and again, and again until the shoulder bone splinters and dislocates itself from the rest of Bucky’s torso. You had to switch knives and blades and a fucking bone saw to get through the rest of his limbs, leaving only his chest, head, and stomach untouched. After taping up and packing the arms and the legs, you work on putting the rest of Bucky into a nondescript suitcase.

The only problem being his head getting into the way of things.

Wanting to preserve even a shred of his dignity, you left his face untouched. Well, save from the crack in his skull.

You begrudgingly take a hefty chef’s knife and start cutting through the jugular vein, only stopping when the blade hits the spinal cord by his nape. The serrated blade of the bone saw sits on your blood-soaked gloves, scrape-scrape-scraping until it snaps into two.

The human head weighs around 10 pounds, kinda like a bowling ball.

An opaque black garbage bag containing Bucky’s head looks nothing suspicious as you put it inside a backpack—into a firepit you go.

His limbs—arms and legs alike—are going deep into the ocean, forgotten and to be used as fish food.

The limbless torso will be finding its home in a deep hole in the middle of a densely wooded area, far from the city.

But you’re not quite sure what to do with the mason jar of teeth though; the clinking noises of it remind you of the seashells you used to collect when you were a kid. Maybe you’ll stash it away with the torso.

Placing the bags into the trunk of a rental, you begin your journey to the end of your fairytale.

The drive to and from the places was tiring, to say the least. The internet connection of the diners was spotty at best. Locals were overly friendly with the city folks who came passing through their towns. The roads reek of roadkill and manure from the farm animals that were left to roam for fresh grass.

At least you get to come home in a spotless apartment, alone once again.

But not lonely.

Your space is yours again. No trace of anyone anywhere. Immaculately yours.

—

Humans are social creatures.

No one can truly be alone, especially in today’s world where we’re connected to everyone—whether we liked it or not.

Leaving your wretched job behind was an easy feat to do. No one can say no to the victim of such a vile crime. That’s all they saw you: a helpless little thing. So off you went; saying half-assed goodbyes and sending emails of courage and hope and fucking resilience.

Your resignation meant that the company’s free of any dirt from you, Bucky’s disappearance quickly becoming a joke and a rumor blending in one.

They let you leave: in your bank account a fat check ensuring that you’d shut up about the scandal for months until you can’t feed yourself no more. So you packed your bags and jet off without looking back. You never liked that apartment anyway.

Nevertheless, you found yourself looking into another dead-end job in one of the towns you stopped over before. It’s a charming place like time froze in their plaza while the rest of the world went on. You found a small studio apartment in a street tuckered away from the main avenue, you settled there as days became nights and nights turned into days.

You woke up one morning craving a healthy serving of coffee and pancakes, luckily the town’s local diner wasn’t far from your new home.

The coffee was too hot, the pancakes were amazing, fluffy, and just right. You’re sitting in a sunny booth, the warmth doing its wonders.

“Hi, can I get today’s paper, please?” Your voice is sweet as you call your server, giving her a quick smile.

A pair of Raybans adorn your face, unconsciously hiding behind its darkened glasses. The waitress gives you a thick stack of newspapers, refilling your cup with black coffee.

Upon opening the paper, you ignore the town’s headlines and went straight for the job postings. The door jingled open as patrons come in and go, waving to familiar faces.

Job Vacancy Announcements

Secretary to the Town Sheriff

You skimmed over the rest of the details, only noting the address of the office. The job looks quite lucrative for someone who would only take messages and organize files for the sheriff.

Looking over the job posting again, you read over the words walk-ins only. That shouldn’t be hard enough.

The diner looked deserted save from the man sitting behind your booth. Leaning over and tapping his shoulder, you put on a polite smile, “Hi, sorry, do you know how to get to the sheriff’s office from here?”

“Hello, darling.” The man croons in an accent, he looks over to you, “join me in my booth, will ‘ya?”

You’re in no position to reject his proposal, you’re the one who needed an answer.

Taking your coffee cup, you slide into his booth, “hi.”

“Just the face I wanted to see.” Clean-shaven, a hint of mint and smoke, and something woody; a worn leather jacket and white button-up shirt hugging his soft frame. “Some folks over on the apartment complex were talkin’ about a city girl wanting to rent a studio all by herself. That happen to be you?”

You look over to him, trying to understand how that small of news spread like a wildfire, “yeah. I moved in a week ago.”

He leans over, smiling sweetly as he unabashedly lets his eyes roam your features, “What’s a city girl like you doin’ in a place like this? I hope we ain’t too boring for you, gal.”

Chatty—he’s way too chatty.

“Just wanted a change of pace, really. Away from the bustle of the city.” You rustle the paper, clearing your throat to get back on the matter on hand, “so the sheriff’s office? Is it too far from here?”

“What business are ‘ya bringing into the office?”

“A job, actually. Says here that they’re looking for a secretary.” You might as well tell him everything, he seems too chatty to be dismissed over and over again.

“Well, darlin’, today’s your lucky day. No need to drive down the old road.” He reaches down to his seat, pulling up a brown hat, “Hi, I’m Sheriff Bodecker. Now, to whom do I owe the pleasure?”

You bite back a giggle, you’ve always wanted to be involved with the law.

[css1992]

Guilty Pleasure

Summary:  Peter and Beck used to be a power couple in the porn industry, but after Beck dumps him, Peter is forced to start over. With no money, no family and nowhere to go, he doesn’t have much choice other than to keep doing porn, so he joins Just4Fans to get back on his feet and then one day he gets a very generous tip from someone under the username of YKWIM. All the warnings listed on Part I apply. 

Read on AO3

Part I / Part II / Part III / Part IV / Part V /  Part VI /  Part VII /  Part VIII / Part IX / Part X /  Part XI / Epilogue

-x-

Living with Ned and MJ was both a dream come true and a bit of a nightmare.

A dream, because when they were kids, they always talked about how they would all go the same college and live together one day, and Peter would finally have a real home – and a real family, he used to think to himself,  in secret.

A nightmare, because he couldn’t help but feel a little jealous of his friends, and that was the worst kind of feeling to have for the people who opened their arms and their home for him when he needed the most. Still, he couldn’t avoid it and he felt awful for that. They were both attending NYU; Ned was majoring in Computer Science and MJ in Journalism. All according to the plans they made in high school.

When Peter was younger, he made plans, too. He wanted to study Biochemistry, his teachers used to say he could probably get a scholarship to a good college, he was smart enough. Mr. Harrington, his science teacher, even offered to write letters of recommendation for him. Instead, Peter’s life choices led him to his current predicament: a 20 year-old porn actor, selling dirty pictures for a living, crashing on his friends’ couch, not a single dollar in his wallet.

He was definitely not getting any awards for good decision making, that was for sure.

He had been staying with Ned and MJ for a week when he was finally able to set up his Just4Fans account. He knew that had to be a temporary thing, it couldn’t last, even if he wanted it to. He wouldn’t be young forever, let alone a “pretty twink”, as his subscribers loved to call him. He had maybe three or four years left of that hype, at most, then he would be too old for that, and/or people would start getting bored of him. So he had to be smart, the plan was to save up as much as he could while he thought about what he was going to do once the fountain of youth dried up, and the clock was ticking fast.

But for the time being, porn.

Good thing he had his own Instagram account with a few thousand followers. All the other social media accounts were under Beck’s name, and those had hundreds of thousands of followers, but Peter no longer had access to them – he checked. He also checked and noticed that Beck hadn’t announced that they had split up yet, his last post dated from five days earlier, when he released their last video together – two days after kicking him out of the house, the asshole.

So Peter posted a few Instagram stories explaining to his followers that he and Beck weren’t a thing anymore – he didn’t give many details, he didn’t want any drama, specially not with Beck – and that he had set up a Just4Fans account for the time being. In minutes, his Instagram blew up. Apparently, people were either heartbroken over their breakup; relieved he “got rid of that perv!”; or devastated they wouldn’t get to see them doing porn together anymore.

He got a hundred subscribers in just a few hours, which was incredible. The subscription fee was ten dollars a month, so even after the website’s cut plus tax deduction, it still was a good start. He wondered what kind of money Beck made with their videos, because they had thousands of subscribers on their channel.

Once he got the hang of the site, he tried to post at least two sets of pictures a day – which was challenging at that moment, because the apartment was tiny and he didn’t have any outfits or toys with him, they were all at Beck’s. He made plans that as soon as he got the subscription money in around fifteen days, he would try to buy a few things and take tons of pictures to last a few weeks.  

He also made sure to answer people’s messages every single day, which often earned him a little more money in tips. It was shocking how many people were willing to tip him just because he answered them. Some other people asked for extra content, like specific pictures, videos or even voice notes, which he sent via “pay-per-view messages”.

In the end, he felt like he was prostituting himself. Again.

He would never judge a person for earning their living in any way necessary, as long as it didn’t hurt anyone, he just never thought that would be him. Never ever. As a kid, he thought he’d be an astronaut. Growing up, he wanted to be a physicist. As a teen, he made plans to study Biochemistry. And somehow he ended up selling his body online, one way or another.

He didn’t dwell on that for long, he focused on the fact that it was temporary. If he managed to retain at least some of the people that had subscribed to his account for two or three years, then he would be able to start a small business of some kind in the future. Maybe he could go back to school. Twenty-three wasn’t too old for college, right?

Right.

It was two weeks later when he got a weird message. Not a weird message, actually, a weird tip. Someone under the username of YKWIM had sent him ten thousand dollars for no reason, there was no prior conversation, nor did the person ask for anything in return. Peter was sure there must have been a mistake, maybe they had typed in some extra zeros or maybe they had sent it to the wrong person, so he decided to reach out.

“Hey. I think there must’ve been some sort of mistake with your last tip. Lol.”

He left his phone on the counter and got started on dinner. He was a terrible cook, but to be fair, they all were, so it was fine. Ned and MJ were both at work, but they would be home soon and they were having a quiet night in. Those few weeks at their place had been good for Peter, it felt nice not to be alone after what happened, but at the same time, he was starting to feel like he really needed his own space. He was already looking for an apartment to move into as soon as he got the money. He was hoping to get one in the same building or at least close by, so that they could still see each other often.

His cell phone beeped as he sliced some onions and he stopped to check.

“Hey, gorgeous. There’s been no mistake, it’s correct.” Peter was taken aback by the answer, so he checked again to see how much the person had tipped him, and sure enough, there it was. Ten thousand dollars. Ten thousand. American dollars.

“Oh. Wow, that was very, very generous of you. Is there any particular content that you’d like to see from me as a thank you? I could send you exclusive pics and videos, whatever you want.” Inwardly, he was thinking that no amount of pictures or videos from him would ever be worth ten thousand dollars. Ten thousand dollars, holy fuck.

“That would be excellent.”

“Great. What would you like to see?”

Please don’t be weird, please don’t be weird, please don’t be weird… Usually, Peter’s subscribers liked to see him in cute outfits or with cute toys, but some people liked very messed up stuff. He usually said no, but that person had just sent him ten thousand dollars. Fuck, that was so much money, it would cover rent for at least a few months.

“I’ve enjoyed everything you’ve put out so far, baby, so surprise me. I’m sure I’m gonna like whatever you send.”

God, generous and reasonable? Had Peter died and gone to porn heaven?

“You flatter me.” He typed in quickly, leaving the sauce unattended for a few seconds. “Give me a few hours to work on it, I don’t want to disappoint you.”

“Take your time, but I don’t think you could disappoint me if you tried.”

Peter felt so stupid when he blushed and giggled to himself, because that was exactly how Beck lured him in when he was seventeen, with charming, easy words. He was an adult now, for Christ’s sake, and he didn’t even know who he was talking to. To be fair, it was probably a woman. For some weird reason, according to his Just4Fans statistics, a surprisingly large percentage of his subscribers were middle-aged, cisgender, heterosexual women. Peter supposed those were the ones who used to follow his “love story” with Beck – most of them hadn’t got over them yet, apparently they were “the perfect couple! So cute!”.

He couldn’t blame them, they sold them the perfect love story. And for a time, it was true. Peter really thought Beck was it for him, the love of his life, his soulmate. He didn’t know at which point it all became an act to Beck – or if maybe it had always been an act.

He sighed, shaking his head, he couldn’t afford to waste time thinking about him, so he focused on what he should send YKWIM.

As he finished making dinner, he tried to come up with ideas. They said they loved everything Peter had posted so far – he had posted thirty pictures and five short clips over the past two weeks. The pictures were all in MJ’s bedroom – she offered –, most of them in her bed. There were only a few pictures in which he was completely naked, in the others he had some sort of underwear on –  lingerie or tight briefs.

So, he decided he should do something similar, but different enough that YKWIM would feel somewhat special. He had a few good ideas, but they would have to wait for the next morning, he would need good lighting and privacy.

“Hey, nerd, what’s up,” He almost burned his fingers when he heard MJ’s voice, and realized he had spaced out for a minute there. He shook his head quickly and smiled at her.

“Nothing, how was you day?”

The next morning, once Ned went to visit his family and MJ left for work, Peter started working on the pictures. For some reason, he didn’t want to tell his friends about YKWIM, just like he didn’t want to tell them about Beck when they first met, three years earlier. And if he really was as smart as his teachers used to say, he would have seen the pattern. But as it was, he just focused on the fact that YKWIM was probably a woman living on the other side of the world, who just liked to get off to pictures of pretty boys in lingerie.

But.

For the sake of getting in the mood for the pictures, he imagined YKWIM was a guy. Not too tall, but taller than him. He imagined he had a beard, but not a full one, like Beck’s, no, perfectly trimmed, scratchy, in a good way. He’d have dark, warm eyes, not blue and cold. He’d be older, older than Beck, more mature than him. A real man. Maybe he’d have a few streaks of gray amidst his otherwise dark hair.  

He’d be gentle, despite Peter’s past. He’d treat him like he was the first one to ever touch him, even if he knew that was far from the truth. He would be careful, mindful of his pleasure. He’d start off slowly, kissing along his collarbones, fingers brushing the sensitive skin on the inside of his thighs, just shy of where Peter wanted him to touch, as his mouth traveled down his chest; hot, moist breath leaving a trail of kisses down his stomach.

He sighed. Yeah, that would do to put him in the mood.

He put on a white t-shirt that was just long enough to graze the tops of his thighs, and a simple, plain black thong. He decided to take the pictures in the shower – the classic wet, white t-shirt, he couldn’t really go wrong with that. He positioned the camera on top of the bathroom sink, set the timer, and started posing.

First, he rested his back against the wall, one hand pulling the t-shirt down to cover the front his underwear, eyes staring directly at the camera lens as water ran down his face, neck and chest, making his nipples stiffen, becoming visible under the wet shirt.  

Next, he pressed his chest to the wall, looking at the camera from over his shoulder, lips parted, just a peek of his exposed ass cheeks showing where the t-shirt ended, but by then it was so wet it was mostly see-through.

Then he turned so his side was facing the camera and stuck his head directly under the stream of water, running his hands through his hair, back arched obscenely, eyes closed. He let his hands travel all the way down his neck, chest, and stomach, hearing the familiar “click” as the camera took several pictures.

He turned around again, placed his hands on the wall and lifted his t-shirt just over his lower back, sticking his ass out, showing off his provocative underwear.

He got out of the shower and turned the camera into filming mode, then got back under the water and also shot a short clip of he sensually and slowly taking the thong off, but in a way that the viewer couldn’t really see the skin that was revealed. He pulled the wet t-shirt down so it covered everything, but by then it was so see-through that it left nothing to the imagination. Peter twirled a little, then threw an innocent, shy smile at the camera.

That should do it.

He finished his shower, put the wet clothes in the washer, then went to edit the pictures. He didn’t do much, just adjusted the light and contrast, then cut them into squares, because he though it looked classier or whatever. He chuckled to himself at the absurdity of that thought, as he attached the photos and the video to a direct message to YKWIM.

“Hey, gorgeous! Hopefully these won’t disappoint. Let me know if you’d like something different.”

He cringed re-reading the message, he thought he sounded desperate and insecure about himself and he supposed that wasn’t very attractive, so he decided to change it just a little.

“Hey, gorgeous! Hopefully these won’t disappoint.” And he finished off with a hot face emoji, because why not.

He sent the message and went on with his day. Ned and MJ were both back for lunch and since none of them felt like cooking – and they all sucked at it anyway –, they ordered something to eat in front of the TV, as they binge-watched the first seasons of The Office.

“Oh, hey, Pete, I almost forgot, I talked to our landlord earlier and he said there’s an apartment on the fifth floor that should be vacated by the end of the month, if you’re interested,” Ned told him around a mouthful of pizza and Peter’s head snapped up.

“I’m definitely interested!”

“Cool, I’ll talk to him for you, I’m sure I can get you a good deal on rent.” He winked, and Peter smiled, feeling hopeful.

Things were getting better. Slowly, yes, but they were. He was spending time with his friends – who he had neglected for the past two years–; he had a good amount of money to withdraw in the next few days, that could get him going for a while; he was still doing porn, yes, but at least he was in control of the whole thing, including his own body, which was nice; and he only cried for Beck every other night instead of every single night, so he had that going for him.

All in all, things were looking up.

Ned and MJ convinced him to go out for a bit in the afternoon, they said he had been cooped up in the apartment for three weeks and should breathe in some fresh air, and since it was the first somewhat warm day of March, they decided to go jog at Central Park in the afternoon. They didn’t really jog, but they walked around some and Peter must admit that it felt good to stretch his legs and feel the sun on his skin for a change.

They were lying on the grass, resting for a bit, when they saw a blur of red and gold fly overhead. People started cheering and clapping and Peter smiled when MJ groaned, because he knew exactly what she was going to say.

“How can people cheer for that guy, he’s an egocentric, misogynistic, elitist, disgusting asshole.”  He laughed to himself, because he knew what came next.

“He’s a genius, he changed the world multiple times and he even saved it at least twice. I think he’s pretty cool,” Ned argued without any heat and Peter could hear MJ rolling her eyes.

Peter didn’t love or hate Tony Stark or Iron Man, like most people, he just – didn’t pay him any mind. Sure, when he was a kid, he was obsessed with him, he was New York’s first superhero after  Captain America, who was still in the ice when Stark announced he was Iron Man. But as he grew older, he had other concerns in mind other than who was the coolest Avenger, so he kind of forgot they existed, except for when there was some crazy alien threat looming over New York City – which was, like, a biannual thing since they found out aliens existed back in 2012.

The fact that Iron Man was flying over Central Park on a Saturday afternoon was a little alarming though. From what Peter knew, Stark was mostly retired since around 2016, he only ever “avenged” when there was a big threat, like the near-end-of-the-world they had back in 2018.

“Do you think we’re under attack?” Peter asked and Ned shook his head calmly.

“Nah, I think he must be late for something. I read an interview recently and he said he uses the suit sometimes when he needs to get some place fast.”

Seemed like overkill, but who was Peter to judge, he would probably do the same if had a suit like that.

They spent the rest of the afternoon in the park and then headed home for the night. MJ turned in early, she said she was beat from a busy week, and Peter and Ned stayed up until a little later, re-watching Star Wars movies. It was close to 2AM when Ned said his goodnight and Peter went to check his Just4Fans, because he hadn’t answered any messages all day long.

There were quite a few, but he did notice there was one missing. YKWIM hadn’t answered him yet and Peter immediately felt like a failure. They probably hated the pictures, they must have thought “ugh, ten thousand dollars for that?”. Peter should have photoshopped them. He could have made himself look at least a little bit better, if only–

Before he could hate on himself too much, YKWIM messaged him, like they could read minds. Peter quickly opened their chat, still a little worried about their reaction to the pictures.

“Damn, baby! You have no fucking idea what those did to me. Fuck! Can I show you? Please?”

Peter was oddly relieved to read that, and was endeared by the fact that they actually asked before sending a dick pic. Or a clit pic? Was that a thing?

“Of course, gorgeous, I’d love to see it.”

Within seconds, they sent a video in the chat. Peter was a little surprised by that, but pressed play anyway, and almost fell off the couch when he did.

It was a thirteen seconds video. He could see the man’s midriff, all the way down to the tops of his thighs. His belly was toned and spattered with dark hair that led down to perfectly trimmed pubes that framed the most beautiful cock Peter had ever seen. There was no other way to put it.

It was long and thick, but not so much so that it would hurt – Peter knew better –, it stood proudly between his thighs, attached to a heavy set of balls that made his mouth water. He was jacking it mercilessly, Peter could only hear him grunting quietly before his balls recoiled and he came, covering his stomach in thick, pearly white come. Peter whimpered, pressing down on his hard-on, and almost cried when the video was over.

“Fuck, daddy, that was so fucking hot.” It was probably the first time ever that he actually meant that answering a DM from a subscriber.

“That was the third time today, baby, I have been thinking about those pics from the minute you sent them. Spent the whole day with blue balls, even after coming twice.”

Fuck.

“Wish I could have helped you with that.”

“Who knows, honey, maybe someday.”

Yeah, Peter thought, biting his pillow on the couch so he wouldn’t be heard when he came embarrassingly hard in his pajamas pants, face burning with shame. Maybe someday.

[iwadori]

Hiiii can i request prompt 53 with tsukki? My annoying cousin u may know @chibiiichan(i cant tag her its a surprise) recommend ur account and well she never been right more than now I LIKE UR ACC TOO URM JUST TAG HER IN THE POST (bcs its actually her birthday next week monday so....the least i could do this bcs she likes tsukki and shes recently talk abt the iwazumi story of yours....lmao shes cringe but in the same time got mad n i was besides her hearing her whining like bruh 'its 1 am'...i know i should buy something for her but she got spoiled enough 💅...that mf-) thank you ✨

‘ALWAYS AND FOREVER’

TSUKISHIMA X READER

2K WORDS

GENRE: ANGST,FLUFF

TW: SLIGHT AMBIGIOUS MENTION OF SUICIDE/ASSISTED DEATH, AND DEATH, CURSING (IN MY A/N)

THIS IS FOR @chibiiichann Happy birthday, I HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS (BECAUSE I HATE IT :D ) SOOOOO YEAH I HOPE YOU ENJOY YOUR BIRTHDAY.

NOT PROOFREAD AT ALL. EXPECT SLIGHT MISTAKES

You were dying. You knew it. Your husband, Kei, knew it. Even friends you haven’t spoken too since high school knew it.

So why did you all pretend that everything was okay?

5 year old Y/N:

You were running around your neighbourhood park chasing after butterflies, without a care in the world. As you were frollicing in the grass, you manage to trip over a rock tumbling to the ground scraping your knee making it bleed. Looking down at your slightly injured knee, your lip begins to quiver which eventually leads to wails of tears streaming down your face.

“you don’t have to cry you know?” said a slightly quiet voice towering over you. Above you was a boy, quite tall with a fat pair of glasses, golden eyes and a head full of blonde locks.

“Well when I get hurt, I cry” you say matter oh factly (is that the phrase?) rubbing your nose as you sniffle. He held out a hand to you, which you immediately took shooting upwards and brushing yourself off.  

The boy, after looking at you wildly, turns around and walks back to the actual park. “Oi wait,” you call at the boy swiftly following him “aren’t you going to ask my name?”

“no.” he says simply, proceeding to walk ahead.

“well my names Y/N L/N pleasure to meet you,” you say jumping in front of him so he doesn’t move, waiting for him to tell you his name...which he doesn’t. “you don’t have to be so rude you know”  

“I’m not being rude” he says stiffly “ it’s just my brother says not to speak to strangers” a smirk appears on his face to say ‘you can leave me alone now.’  

As if on cue, his brother approaches the both of you given the boy a slap on the back making him cringe “Hey Kei, who’s the friend you’ve made here?”  

“My name is Y/N L/N and I'm here to be KEI’s best friend!” you said putting the emphasis on the word Kei after just learning that was the blondes name.  

Kei rolled his eyes and sighed saying “nii-chan can we go home now” he folded his arms in annoyance.

“No Kei, you’ve got to get to know your new found friend Y/N-Chan right?” his brother said teasingly, knowing it was the last thing Kei wanted to do.

“Yes ofcourse!” you say with a toothy grin, dragging Kei along with you to his demise.

Until the sun went down, you spent the rest of your time with Kei getting to know eachother (well him getting to know you more, since you did all the speaking.) Regardless of his previous annoyance in getting to know you in the first place, Kei would be lying if he said he didn’t want to know you now.

As the sun was setting, Kei’s older brother (who’s name you learned was Akiteru) called him to tell him he had to go home because dinner was ready. Before he left, you grabbed his hand and wrapped your pinky finger around his saying “As long as we shall live, we will always look out for eachother as we are forever bestfriends, agreed?”

back to present -  

In some odd way, this was Kei’s way of looking out for you. He knew what you had was uncurable and would weaken you even more as the days go by, so pretending like nothing was wrong seemed to be best in his eyes.  

Everything you and Kei did was a game or some nostalgic act that you once did when you were children. It was sweet to say the least, seeing Kei all engrossed and determined to make you happy.  

Your alarm rings snapping you out of you daydream, ‘it was time for medicine’ you thought with your face scowling at the thought. Immediately on time, as always, Kei comes In the room with all your medicine thats needed.

“Aren’t you my perfect little nurse Kei” you say teasingly giving him a wink, laughing as you see his face turn red.

“Do you have to do this every time y/n?” he asks rolling his eyes at your childish behaviour.

“Oh I'm just showing love to my best and favourite nurse” you continue laughing at your own words

“Im your only ‘nurse’” he deadpans giving you your medicine as you talk.

“Well that is more reason to make you the best nurse.” you say smiling.

Silence falls between you, and you stare down at your arm watching as your husband gives you the medicine making you frown. “Do we have to keep doing this?” you ask which is probably the 1000th time you’ve asked.

“Of course we do Y/N as I’ve said yesterday and the day before that and the day before that it-”

“But do we really?” you interrupt “I can’t keep doing this. You can’t keep doing this.”

“Do you doubt me Y/N, I can do this forever” he says “ I can take care of you forever”

“But I don’t wan-”

“I’m finished, I’m going to start on dinner” he gets up and leaves the room yelling “I’ll call you when it’s done.”

Sometimes you and Kei have these conversations. And all the time it ends the same way. You complain, he ignores and then you go and have dinner.

You can understand why he doesn’t want to have this conversation. Who would want to hear about their partners complaints about practically being alive. Kei was torn, ever since he met you all he wanted to was to keep you happy. But could he compromise his own happiness for it.

15 year old Y/N - flashback

“Kei Kei, aren’t you excited!” you yell smiling widley

“Excited for what?” he asks, amused by your enthusiasm “it’s just highschool.”

“Well it’s a new highschool! Karasuno high school, to be exact.”

“And that is still just a school.” he says

“Not just any! That’s the school nii-chan went too, and even tho he lie-”

“Let’s not talk about it Y/N” he murmurs “we should go now, don’t want to be late on our first date.”

Going to Karasuno was fun, at the start everyone was pleasant and nice. But after a week or two when you and Kei were still stuck to eachother like glue, people weren’t so pleasant. Kei was like a pop idol, being gorgeous and over 6ft at just the age of 15, caused alot of attention, especially when he was always around you.

At the start, the hate you got was bearable, it was the petty bitchy notes in your locker or just people blatanly talking badly about you infront of you. People didn’t do it when you weren’t around Kei, so when he had volleyball practice (which you were so excited that he joined the team) you were a big target for the bullies to come around.

Kei didn’t really know of the bullying that happened towards you, especially since he was mainly in practice or not around when it happened. But one day in practice he heard some of his teammates, kageyama and hinata who seemed to talking about a student in one of their classes that was always getting picked on by the other girls in the year.

“Yeah and I heard that Nana-san was planning on getting her and her friends to attack Y/N-san soon.”  said Hinata

“Shrimpy, who are they planning on attacking?” Kei asks to make sure he just heard the ginger correctly.

“Oh this lovely person in our class their name is Y/N-san” he says, looking at Kei’s reaction he also asks “Why? Do you know them?”  

Kei doesn’t respond, and immediately leaves the gym, ignoring Hinata’s and the other members of the teams yells of ‘Where are you going tsukishima.’ He didn’t care, he just had to get to you.  

He searched all the classes, asking every student if he knew where you were. Someone directs him to the toilets, where he burst through the door to see the other girls in your year surrounding you and beating you up.  

“What the fuck are you doing to them?” he yells startling the girls.

“T-T-Tsukishima-san" one girl says “It’s not what it looks like.”

“Oh fuck off” he says, with them still frozen in shock “I said go!”  

“And don’t think I don’t know your names either” he calls after them.

He rushes towards your bruised body on the ground and cradles you gently, confused on what to really do. “Oi Kei,” you say weakly catching his attention “I would’ve won if you didn’t come to stop the fight.” you joke making him scoff.

“Whatever you say Y/N.”

After you heal up, Kei already told on the girls that beat you up getting them suspended, and you explain how they were treating you because of their infatuation of him. And how they only did it when he wasn’t around.

Once he learns this information, he decides to quite the volleyball team, to your surprise. But you demands on making him not quit were ignored, as he excused it by saying “I have to make sure you’re always alright remember, and if that means quitting some volleyball team then so be it.”

That was one out of the many times that Kei put his happiness before yours.

Flashback over.

When you first got diagnosed, Kei was immediately researching on it as it was a very rare condition. But sadly, he only found what the doctor already told you both. It was uncurable and your immune system and your body will weaken as the days go by.

Which it did, you were a shell of your past self. It was always shocking for Kei to see, especially with you only being 25. ‘It wasn’t supposed to be this way,’ but he never let you see his sadness.

Whenever you knew Kei was sad you always reminded him “Kei, I may be dying but please don’t cry over me” every time you said, there was a slight undertone of humour in your voice which always worked in boosting Kei’s spirit.

AN: IVE GOTTEN TO THE POINT WHERE I HATE THIS SOOO IM SORRY IN ADVANCE FOR THE SHITTING RUSHED ENDING IM GOING TO PROVIDE FOR YOU LOL.

The days passed and the years went by, and you and Kei were still alive and kicking it. Doing your daily routine of you making some joke, Kei giving you your medicine and then you eating dinner. You eventually stopped complaining, realizing and remembering your promise you gave to Kei at 5 years old in that park. “As long as we shall live, we will always look out for eachother as we are forever bestfriends, agreed?”

Of course you had your rough days, everybody did and it was even harder being sick with a terminal illness. But having Kei to guide you through the storm made It better for you.

However, Kei isnt a miracle worker. He couldn’t save you, noone could. And you both knew that. That didn’t mean it made it any easier when the medicine stopped working and your pain got too hard to bear. Kei couldn’t watch you do this anymore, “the choice is yours” he said with tears in his eyes.  

So you knew what you had to do, you got in your bed pulling Kei with you, and letting him envelope you in a big hug as you both cried.

“I love you,” you say “You know that right?”

“Of course I know that, idiot” he replies “And I love you.”

“Always and forever?”

“Always and forever.”

AN: how did I END UP CRYING WHILST WRITING THIS WHEN IT MADE NO FUCKING SENSE, I WAS TRYING TO DO THIS COOL NOTEBOOK (I HAVENT EVEN WATCHED THE NOTEBOOK) ENDING WHERE ITS AMBIGIOUS AND SHIT AND I JUST GIVE UP OKAY? I APOLOGISE LOOOOOOL. I HOPE YOU ENJOY ATLEAST A SENTENCE OF THIS AT LEAST.

[wienerbarnes]

Witch Bitch

Pairing: Bucky x Witch!Reader

Word Count: 3,943

Warnings: witch stuff, burning at the stake 😳

A/N: this is heavily inspired by american horror story: coven bc i recently watched and ive been binging all of it lately but its not necessary to know anything about ahs lol i kinda just used their fancy magical terminology and concepts bc they were cool🤪 

MAIN MASTERLIST

The best time of the day was breakfast. It was the time when Bucky, Sam, and Sharon were most often together. Sometimes training overlapped and they missed lunch. Sometimes missions ran long or friends were in town and they missed dinner. But the morning? They were all early birds, all awake by seven. They took that shared characteristic and shared breakfast together whenever they could. Bucky usually took care of the coffee, Sam usually took care of the eggs and bacon, and Sharon usually took care of the bagels, toasting them to perfection before slathering on a layer of cream cheese.

It was a moment of peace in their day. Quiet before the noise of the gym or the conference room or the jets or the private trainings or the interviews with prospective agents or anything else they do on a daily basis. It was a time for three friends to just sit and eat and enjoy each other's company as though they are just that: three friends. Not super soldiers or captains or special agents. Just people being normal. Normal doesn’t last long, though. It never does for them.

Bucky’s on dish washing duty this morning while Sam and Sharon chat idly behind him, waiting for him to finish so they can all leave together. A soft voice interrupts them, though, making the three of them stop what they’re doing because no one has access to this floor except for the people that live here - meaning them three.

“Who’s in charge here?” You ask.

“Who the hell are you?! How did you get up here?!” Sharon asks, ignoring your question.

You were in a long, flowy black skirt, slit cut in the left side exposing your leg, and a long-sleeve black shirt, tucked beneath the waistband. Think black boots cover your feet and a black hat sits on your head to complete your look. Bucky almost doesn’t notice the folded black umbrella underneath your arm as his eyes trail down the multiple chains and necklaces around your neck, falling between your breasts.

“I’ve been trying to find someone to help me but the people in this building are not very helpful. I figured I’d find who’s in charge myself, something that you all don’t seem to want to help me with, either.” You explain.

“The only way to even enter this building is through strict appointment and background checks, and no one’s even allowed past the nineteenth floor.” Sam explains.

“Why are you entertaining this? I’m getting her out of here.” Sharon says, moving to walk towards you to take you out of the building herself.

As she nears closer and closer, you wave your hand lazily, without taking your eyes off Bucky, the only one who hasn’t said anything this whole time, and Sharon collapses on the floor soundlessly.

“Jesus!”

“What did you do!”

Both Bucky and Sam panic as they rush to Sharon’s body on the floor. They frantically run their hands over her body, looking for the point of injury that made her collapse the way she did, but they find nothing. No holes, no blood; she didn’t even make a sound.

“She’s not breathing and she doesn’t have a pulse, what the fuck did you do to her?!” Sam yells at you.

You roll your eyes, “Okay, you got me. I don’t need help finding who’s in charge, I already know it’s you. I still do need your help, though.”

You’re ignored as the two men hover over their friend, unsure of what to do or what even happened to her.

“Oh, alright, move.” You order them, stepping over Sharon’s body.

You stand before her, lifting your hands to hover over her body before closing your eyes and letting out a deep and long exhale. Bucky and Sam watch as it takes only about seven seconds for their friend to suddenly gasp for air, jumping back to life. The boys crowd her once more, checking her eyes, her pulse, everything to convince themselves that she’s actually alive like that, and if she was even dead in the first place.

Sam finally looks back up at you from the ground, as though he just remembered that you’re there, “What are you?”

You smirk in response, ready to finally get what you came here for.

…

“So, you’re a witch?” Sam asks, the four of them now occupying a private conference room for some privacy.

“A witch who killed me.” Sharon adds.

“And a witch that brought you right back.” You reply, leaning back on your chair, leg crossed over your knee, slit exposing your thigh. Bucky’s eye twitch to look at your bare skin for a second before returning to meet your eyes.

“So… what do you do?” Bucky asks.

You smile at his innocent curiosity, “All witches don’t have one universal power. Some are clairvoyant, some do voodoo, some dabble in pyrokinesis, divination, transmutation, descendum,” You glance over to Sharon, who’s still pouting at you, “Resurrection.”

“And can you do all of those?” Bucky asks.

“Almost all of them, but I’m not here to talk about me.”

“Why are you here?” Sharon asks.

“You guys hunt the Nazi’s, right?” You ask, aiming your question towards Sam, knowing he’s the Captain in charge.

“Hydra, yes.” He confirms.

“Well, your Nazi’s somehow got a hold of my magic. And they are playing with very dangerous fire,” You begin.

Bucky interrupts, “We’re all for taking down Hydra, but, don’t you think you’re a little more… powerful than us?” He asks.

“Bucky!” Sharon slaps his arm, as though she’s shocked that he would ever admit such a thing.

“I am. But I’m not that powerful, either. Not anymore, at least. A group of those Hydra invaded the coven my sisters and I were at. I was the only one that escaped.” You tell them.

“Did Hydra take them?” Sam asks.

“No, they killed them.” You respond, growing irritated as the subject grows touchier and touchier.

“Can’t you just bring them back like you did me?” Sharon inquires.

“No! I can’t. Like I said, I’m not that powerful anymore. Maybe I’d be able to bring back a house full of dead girls when it was me and twelve others but it’s just me now. I wouldn’t come all the way over here if I had other options.”

Silence grows over the group as they process what you’ve gone through. Surviving through the massacre of your fellow witches and not being powerful enough to find the people that did it on your own. You’re vulnerable.

“So what can we do?” Sam asks, ready to join forces with you.

“Help me locate the men who did this so I can handle the magic part.” You tell him.

“What magic do they have?”

“Although witches control most of the magic, sometimes it can be taken on in… physical forms. Specifically blood. The blood they retrieved was from a witch that was skilled in Vitali Vitalis.”

“The alive within the living.” Bucky translates.

“There are two worlds: the living and the dead,” You begin to explain, “Vitali Vitalis keeps the balance between these two things and it’s one of the most difficult powers for a witch to master. Oftentimes it’s used to give parts of your own life, health, and energy to someone who needs it. But it can also allow you to take life from someone and give it to yourself.”

“Like immortality?” Sam questions.

“Not quite. Any witch can be killed with a knife or bullet. This kind of magic keeps you from dying of age. I’ve only ever known one witch who mastered it.”

“What happened to her?”

“She used it for evil, like this. Took the souls of hundreds in order to allow herself to live for almost three centuries. Until she was killed, of course.” You finish, a small smile on your lips knowing that she got what she deserved.

“What, you burn her at the stake?” Sharon jokes.

“Yes, actually. We did.” You tell her matter-of-factly, becoming more and more irritated at the fact that she doesn’t seem to take this is as seriously as you are.

Bucky interrupts, sensing the rising tension between the two girls, “So when we find these guys, you’re going to burn them at the stake, too?” He asks.

“Yes,” You say, as though it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “The consequence of using magic like this for evil is death by fire. I hope you all don’t think the rules will change on account of these men being Nazi’s?”

“Well, we just have a different way of doing things -” Sam begin to defend

“Yes, I’m aware. The countless destruction caused by you and other militaries, the millions of innocent lives lost yearly, not only in the constant war and irresponsible handling of your nuclear and alien weaponry, but by incorrect prosecution. Not to mention the billions of dollars spent on your ridiculous prison systems that don’t work when actual bad people escape and the death penalty practices in certain states. I just figured my way was easier. And cheaper.” You reply.

Silence crowds over the four of them once more as they think over all their options.

“I’m in.” Bucky speaks first.

“Me, too. Even if I don’t like you.” Sharon follows.

“Feeling’s mutual, dear.” You smile at her.

The three of them look to Sam, waiting for his commitment as well.

“Alright. Let’s get to work.”

Plans were made, theories of location were thought of, and plans to execute the mission were put into place, all of which included you. A temporary room was given to you when the information of your lack of a place to stay was brought to light. Only for the duration of this mission, is what Sam told you, but you can spot the amount of love and light in his heart from miles away.

It was later that night, and you’ve since cleansed the room, going as far as to place a protective spell on the entire floor. You’ve lost too much already, and you’re not about to risk anything.

A knock at the door sounds and the visitor you’d been expecting has finally arrived. You walk towards the door, still in your clothes from earlier but now you’ve removed your shoes, and open the door to reveal Bucky.

“I was waiting for you.” You tell him.

“How’d you know I’d come?” He asks, stepping through the door when you step aside, silently gesturing to him to enter.

“I can hear your thoughts. You've been debating whether or not to come see me for the past thirty minutes. Your mind is very loud.”

“Tell me about it.” He mumbles to himself, thinking about the countless nightmares, voices, and all the other reminders of just how loud his mind was.

“You can ask all your questions, you know. I won’t take any offence. You’re just curious.” You tell him, settling on your bed, hoping he’ll join you and stop hovering near the door.

Luckily he takes the hint and takes a seat across from you.

“I’ve never met a witch before. A real one, I mean. Like, someone born a witch. Like Salem witches -”

“I understand.” You chuckle lightly.

“You don’t seem… afraid of me. Or, hesitant, rather.” You tell him, thinking about how he’s received your presence here compared to his colleagues.

“I was wary when you killed my friend, but… you just need some help, is all. I’m sorry, by the way, I’m not sure if I said it before, but, I’m sorry for what happened to your friends.” He tells you.

He’s very polite. But you supposed that’s not abnormal considering he got his manners from the 1920’s. You like it, though. You give him an appreciative smile before giving him the okay to ask you whatever he wanted.

“So you said that witches can master multiple powers but have one specialty; is yours resurrection?”

“Yes; it was the first power I ever exhibited when I was a teenager. I was about fourteen or fifteen. My next mastered skill is descendum and then clairvoyance, where I was in my twenties, or so.” You tell him as he looks at you with pure fascination in his eyes.

“What is - what is descendum?”

You pause, “The power to descend your soul down into the afterlife - to hell. And return alive.”

His eyes widened, not even knowing that was something someone can do; not even knowing that hell existed in the first place, “So, you’ve been to hell?”

“Yes. I’ve also been able to retrieve people from hell, their soul. A variation of my power of resurrection, I suppose.” You explain, not being too fond of that power; descending to hell.

Bucky sits in silence for a few minutes, and you let him. You can hear the question lingering around in his head; what he’s thinking. But you let him build up his own courage to ask it. You know he’s only scared of the answer; the answer you know he’s not going to like.

“What is hell like?” He whispers.

“It doesn’t matter what my hell is like. Everyone has their own personal hell they experience when they die.” You tell him.

Confusion clouds his features as he registers your answer.

“Is there… Is there no heaven?”

You smirk, “It’s nice that you’ve remained religious after all this time.”

“Yes, there's heaven. But only for the purest and most innocent of souls. And rarely do people escape life without sin. Everyone has evil in them.” You tell him, knowing it’s a harsh truth that no one wants to hear.

The people Bucky’s killed, the crime he’s committed, the families he’s hurt; it all passes through his mind. Everyone has evil in them.

“What was your hell like?”

“I’m not telling you that.” You tell him quickly.

Bucky ponders what his own hell will be like, after seeing the way you’re clearly shaken up about your own. The fall from the train. The man in a lab coat sawing off the rest of his arm. The needles poking through his skin in the middle of some facility. The chair.

He doesn’t realize that he’s looked away from you until he snaps his thoughts back to the present and sees he’s looking down into his lap. He glances up to see your face, your soft features and kind eyes staring at him. He glances from your eyes to your lips and back up again before clearing his throat, not realizing how close he got to you during his time here sitting on your bed.

“You know, I, uh, I should go. Thank you for, uh, answering my questions, but we head out pretty - pretty early tomorrow, so,” He trails off, standing and patting down his shirt to smooth out the nonexistent wrinkles in a nervous habit.

He makes his way towards the door and his hand touches the knob when he hears your voice, “Hey, Bucky?” He turns slightly to face you again, a hum to indicate for you to continue.

“Thank you for coming to see me. And thank you for all the kindness you’ve shown me. You’re a very good person.” You tell him sincerely.

He gives you a nod of you’re welcome before exiting.

He’s not sure if you told him that because you truly mean it, or if it’s because of the state of anxiety and existential crises you’ve put him in now that he’s going to be thinking about his personal hell, but he appreciates it, nonetheless.

He thinks you’re a pretty good person, yourself.

…

The mission goes off without a hitch. The combined skill of the Avengers’ stealth, spyware, and experience along with your magic and witchery makes for an easy capture of the men who killed your witch sisters and stole your magic.

It’s not long before the facility they were at was shut down and cleared out, arresting any officers and rescuing any prisoners or hostages, and the five men specifically responsible for the destruction of your coven are in separate custody. What’s left of the blood is returned to you, as well.

That’s where the group of you stand now, a decision to be made about the criminals you’ve captured. To be put in the maximum security prison floating in the ocean, or to be put to death by fire.

“I don’t believe in being the executioner of people.” Sam tries to convince.

You can’t help but let a laugh escape you, “Do you know who you work for?! Do you know who you are?!” You remind him.

“Those guys can’t escape the Raft.” He tries, referring to prison in the middle of the ocean you’ve heard about.

“You did.” You respond, knowing about when Steve Rogers took him out of that prison, along with other superheros.

You see Bucky and Sharon look between the two of you, torn between how these Hydra criminals should receive their fate. Staring into the hot depths of flames or rotting alone in a cell? Both seem to be too merciful, in Bucky’s opinion.

“This isn’t just running the facility or experiments, Sam. This is different. They were using dark magic to commit crimes. Maybe they should face the consequences of a dark-magic-punishment.” Sharon offers.

You don’t have time to be shocked at Sharon agreeing with you and picking your side before Bucky agrees and Sam is outnumbered. He stares at you and gives a single nod, allowing you to do this your way.

You smile, a silent thank you for giving you the closure and opportunity to serve justice to those who did you harm. “Off to Massachusetts, then.” You tell them, and Sam takes his seat in the pilot's chair, Bucky accompanying him in the front of the jet.

You take a seat, making yourself comfortable for the flight to Salem and you feel a body take the seat next to you. You glance up to see Sharon looking at you, but you notice she has something in her hand, offering it to you.

You look down to see a small plastic bag of fruit gummies. But not just any fruit gummies, you realize. Halloween themed fruit gummies. The pictures on the outside show the various options inside: witch’s hat, a broom stick, a melting pot, a vial, and a magic wand. Hilarious.

You take the gummies, though, accepting her attempt at a truce.

It’s not long before you and your temporary teammates find themselves standing before a large, empty field, multiple wooden stakes standing about fifteen feet tall scattered about with plenty of space in between.

You lead the walk to a group of them standing tall in line, so the men can be burned at the same time, as opposed to one by one. A group of large, burly agents lug the Hydra operatives along, behind you and the rest of the team.

Bucky hangs around your left, as to not be in the way of the black umbrella held in your right hand, and Sam and Sharon trail behind you. You can sense their uneasiness and tune out their worried thoughts. Everyone’s first burning is always an experience; they’ll get over it.

Bucky doesn’t seem worried, though. In fact, you can’t hear his thoughts this time around. But he still stands tall and straight, walking with confidence, so you make a safe assumption that he’s okay.

None of the men’s cuffs or shackles are removed, but thick rope is tied on top of it, around the wrist and looped around the waist, tying them to the stake. The cuffs are special grade - high tech Avengers vibranium - and they can be retrieved later once the fire burns out.

“Any last words?” You ask, more for tradition than whether or not you actually care.

They look scared, obviously not expecting their fate to look anything like this. You remember seeing Bucky tackle one of them in the facility, prying his mouth open to rip out a tooth, or what looked like a tooth, like a dog caught eating something it wasn’t supposed to. A cyanide pill.

Silence comes from them, except for one of them, “Hail Hydra!” He yells, as if that cowardly and pathetic phrase would change anything.

With a raise of your hand, seemingly with no effort, you wave it and the stakes all begin to rise up in flames. There’s nothing to spark, no twigs, no gasoline, nothing, and Bucky watches as the flames rise, growing stronger as they engulf the five men. They begin to scream, and Bucky looks over at you, as if to confirm you didn’t bring gasoline or something with you, and he sees a smile slowly grow on your lips.

They haven’t stopped screaming; they’re still alive when you turn and begin to walk back the way everyone came. Bucky follows, and eventually Sam and Sharon do, too, the other agents staying behind until the end to retrieve the cuffs and shackles that will survive the fire.

“So, now what?” Sharon asks, the air quieter as the screams have slowly stopped in the distance.

I can’t imagine what kind of paperwork follows this, “Back to the tower.” Sam responds.

“The coven’s only a short walk from here.” You say, not needing to elaborate much more. The men have been caught and brought to justice, but you still have a broken, battered, and beaten down coven to fix.

A friend of yours was meant to go by and retrieve the… bodies. Which you’re grateful for. But magic won’t help you fix the walls, the floors, mop the blood, or find other witches in need of an escape and a place to improve and master their powers. You have a lot of work to do.

As the view of the jet gets closer, you prepare to bid your goodbyes to the Avengers, your thank you’s as well. Regardless of your attitude towards them before, you couldn’t have done this without them.

A metal hand engulfs yours, pulling you back a bit as Sam and Sharon continue on.

“Do you need any help?” Bucky’s warm and gentle voice floods your ears, hand still in yours.

“You guys have been more than enough help, now, really.” You try to tell him, but he has none of it.

“You may be tough, but you can’t fix up that house by yourself,” He tells you, “I can be pretty handy, fixed up a few things back in my day.” A soft smile grows on his face.

You glance over his shoulder as Sam and Sharon wait by the entrance of the jet, “Don’t you have to go back?”

“They won’t miss me.” He tells you, not even looking back to confirm with his teammates, hand dropping to run it through his hair.

You giggle at him, before giving him a shy nod in answer to his offer to help you fix up your big house.

“I’m going to hang out here for a few days.” He yells over his shoulder.

“We figured.” Sam calls out, and Sharon throws you a wave as they board the jet, the opening close after them.

“Lead the way?” Bucky offers you, taking your hand once more, interlocking the fingers this time.

And so the two of you are off, one of your hands still clutching the umbrella, holding it above your head, and the other hand interlaced with the one of a handsome and kind super soldier. This wasn’t the way Bucky expected the last two days to transpire, but he’s glad they led to holding the hand of a very pretty witch.