#I know she's out their somewhere living her life just like I am

[aboutcustardcreams]

Until next time

Agathario x reader

The scene in the forest where Agatha delivered the baby is living in my head rent free and I just couldn't resist the urge to write an os about it. Rewrite, actually. It's my first Agatha's fic, so I'm pretty excited. Hope you guys like it <3

warning: angst, a touch of fluff

The baby’s soft cries echoed in the forest, as a reminder that a life has just begun, tender and innocent. Agatha was perched by a tree, only wrapped in a light and crumbled vest. Her cloak dropped somewhere a few feet away. The sweat and the pressure at her lower abdomen finally subsided, making her feel like she could breathe properly again. There was blood between her legs, staining her inner thighs, flooding and then drying out to her knees. Everything kind of hurt, her eyes were heavy, but her senses stayed alert. 

“Move,” the Green Witch muttered in a placid order. 

You looked into her eyes, slowly shaking your head, as you stood in front of Agatha, shielding her and the baby, “No.”

The witch felt a wave of relief wash over her when she heard your simple, yet categorical answer. She was in no condition to fight against Rio on this, despite the fire in her eyes and the weak magic already tingling her digits. 

Rio sighed, “we aren’t doing this. You promised–”

“I know what I did,” you interjected, closing your hands into fists, “But I changed my mind. I am allowed to change my mind,” you pointed out, voice thick with emotion. You couldn’t bring yourself to say goodbye to a child you didn’t even hold in your arms yet. “I-I can’t let you take him,” turning around, your eyes focused on the baby’s tiny head peeking out of the little blanket Agatha wrapped him in. “I mean, he’s innocent. It can’t be his time…”

“My loves–” 

“Just let him live,” Agatha interjected, her voice both exhausted and desperate. She never felt so scared before, “Please, don’t take him from me.” 

When he clasped his tiny hands in her long wavy hair, her lips brushed against his head, “I love you,” she smiled, rocking him ever so gently, “I love you so much.”

Your heart melted at the sight before your eyes. Rio felt a slight indecision tugging at her chest. She never thought the first time she would hold her son would be to carry him in the afterlife. It felt cruel. It was cruel. But he was sick, he could feel his disease, hovering like a shadow around him. 

“I’m not giving up. Not yet,” you insisted. 

“You talk as if I didn’t wish for him to live,” Rio retorted in disbelief. 

“Oh, spare us, Rio!” Agatha snapped. “You’re the Green Witch, it’s not like you’ve got no power at your disposal. And yet you’re choosing the easy way.”

Rio couldn’t believe her ears. “The easy way you say? Are you nuts? He is my son too, Agatha!”

You frowned at their bickering. Last thing you wanted was to indulge in this fight. This moment was supposed to bring joy to your lives. A child was born, your child for fuck’s sake. Why couldn’t you three be happy about it? Why couldn’t you cherish the moment? He was sick, but you could still try to save him. Work together to make it possible. You, Agatha and Rio weren’t common witches after all, and if there was someone able to find a loophole, it would be you. 

“Then start acting more like a mother,” Agatha retorted, voice dropping in a whisper. 

“It’s not my fault I’ve got responsibilities, Agatha. I never asked to be like this,” Rio’s voice wavered a bit, her heart thumping in her chest with painful insistence. 

“My loves, please we shouldn’t–”

The sound of Agatha’s mocking laughter prevented you from finishing off that sentence. “What about the responsibilities towards our son? He should come first.” 

“Our son is sick, and in order for him to live, many will have to die. It will cause absolute chaos.”

“So be it. All I care about is my son.” Her icy blue eyes sparkling dangerously as she said those words with force and a bit of selfishness. 

You considered Rio’s words; a bunch of conflicted emotions passed through you. Rio wouldn’t say those things if she knew there was another way out of this. But maybe if she couldn’t find it, you could, if only you were granted more time to figure it out. 

“If you take him, I’ll hate you forever,” she insisted rather calmly now. 

“Agatha…”

Color drained from your face at those words. You knew she didn’t mean that. She couldn’t. When a muffled sound slipped from Rio’s lips, a mixture between a choked sob and a scoff, you drew closer to her, your hands immediately finding her cheeks. You weren’t supposed to pick sides. You were a family, and it should stay like that. 

“She doesn’t mean it,” you said both softly and firmly, thumbs brushing against her cheekbones. She rolled her eyes and you took a firmer grip on her face, so that she would focus on your eyes, “Rio, listen to me, she doesn’t–”

“I do.” Agatha deadpanned, cutting you off.  

You hissed, “Quiet, Agatha.” 

Rio let out a quiet humorless chuckle, when the other witch grumbled something under her breath. 

“We are just scared, my love. We want this child to live, we need him to, do you understand that?” 

When your voice croaked slightly, her hands tangled in your hair and pulled you closer to her, “I know, baby. I know,” she cooed, getting lost in those wet lashes of yours.

You swallowed thickly, “I don’t want to say goodbye.” 

She leaned in and brushed her lips right under your eye, her magic immediately mingling with yours. Your eyelids fluttered close and you let out a faint mewl. 

“I can only offer time,” she said, once she pulled away, so that she could meet both yours and Agatha’s eyes.

You arched an eyebrow confusedly, “what does it mean?”

“How much time?” Asked Agatha. 

She shrugged, as if she didn’t know or she couldn’t really say. Her behavior only served the purpose of making you more nervous. Crossing your arms over your chest, you knew that you’d have to use this time to master your own powers. To make sure that whenever Rio intended on collecting your son’s soul, you’d be ready to fight. Not her of course, but the process of Death itself. You were a necromancer witch, whose powers were completely opposite to Rio’s. While her job was to keep order between life and death, your powers could easily break that balance if you wanted to. Meaning that you could resurrect life forms.

“You know I’ll still try when the time comes, don’t you?”

Rio looked at you and despite your words, she smiled, “I know, love. Thought I’d hate you if you decided to interfere, but honestly, I hope you win.” 

It was your turn to crack a smile in her direction. “It’s not a competition, Rio. All I want is to keep our child alive.” 

She hummed, without voicing her concerns out loud, not wanting to add more to yours and Agatha’s shoulders, “You two will make a good job.”

You and Agatha exchanged a confused look, “you sound like you’re leaving us behind,” she trailed off. 

When Rio averted her eyes, lips pressed in a thin line, you were sure you felt your heart shatter. 

“No, she’s not-” you looked at Agatha, hoping to have got it all wrong. But when you spotted tears welling up in her eyes, you realized the truth. 

“Rio, please, don’t do this–”

“I must. I can’t be seen around him,” her tone was sad, yet you could still feel the love filling each word. You kept shaking your head in denial. “Might be difficult to believe but there are women above me I respond to.” 

“The Fates have no power if you don’t do your part,” Agatha pointed out, hoping to be right.

Rio smacked her lips in return. “It’s not that simple. Atropos, the eldest of the three, could give me a really hard time if I disobey.” 

You clenched your jaw at her words. The thought of handing your son’s life in the hands of those crones made absolutely no sense to you. They shouldn’t be entitled to take the life of an innocent just like that. You were a necromancer witch, meaning that you could change things. For a long time you buried that part of yourself within you, because of the things you’ve been told all your life. Interfering with the natural order of the things was wrong; your power was an abomination, but at that moment, all those warnings sounded like bullshit. 

Rio sensed your distress, her fingers brushed yours, “I’ll keep him hidden for as long as I can.” 

Then she turned to Agatha and pointed at the baby in the silent, almost timid request to approach him. She still had to see him properly after all. Agatha nodded and moved the child so that he would face her, tucking a bit of the blanket underneath his chin to better expose his tiny face. 

Rio brushed a strand of Agatha’s hair first, “you did amazing, my love,” she praised her, causing a light brush on the witch’s cheeks. She couldn’t quite believe she, you three created such a beautiful baby boy from scratch. 

“Hi” she cooed, now focusing on the newborn. You leaned against the tree, the same tree Agatha was perched by, and looked from above the sweet interaction going on. Rio’s fingertips grazed over his tiny, perfect nose. “I can’t promise you a life devoid of challenges and pain, but I confide in your mothers to always make sure you’re happy and loved,” she lifted her eyes to meet yours and Agatha’s. A watery smile tugged at her lips, “And trust me, you’re so so loved already, little one.” 

You wiped the corners of your eyes and so did Agatha. 

“We should name him Nicholas,” she said after a moment of contemplation.  

Knowing the meaning of the name, you felt like you couldn’t agree more on it, “Nicholas Scratch,” you added, “cause we made him from scratch.” 

Rio turned towards you, while her fingers played with the baby’s tender little hands. “That’s perfect, my love. Isn’t it, Agatha?”

Agatha swallowed thickly, already mourning the loss of Rio, despite her being still there. She nodded, and then she tangled a hand in Rio’s hair, pulling her closer to her face. For a moment she only leaned against her forehead, inhaling her sweet scent of flowers. Then the Green Witch took the initiative and placed her lips on top of hers, savoring with extreme gentleness, the plumpiness of Agatha’s. You ran a hand in Agatha’s hair, fingers stroking her scalp to let her feel your presence too, while your eyes darted on Rio. When Agatha let out a choked sob in Rio’s mouth, overwhelmed by everything that had just happened in such a short time, the other hushed her softly, “it’s going to be okay.”

Neither you nor Agatha were sure about it, but you had no other choice than to believe her. 

“Take care of your moms, Nicky,” she later added, placing one last kiss on his forehead and then on Agatha’s. 

Once she stood up again, she focused her attention on you. In an ideal world, you’d be her enemy, because of the powers you possessed. And yet, against all the odds, you became her lover, one of the most important persons in her life. 

“Don’t be sad…”

You nibbled on your inner cheek so hard you drew blood. With your arms crossed over your chest, you struggled to spill a single word because you didn’t trust your voice at the moment. Your entire body was shaking on the inside. Agatha never saw you look so fragile before. It felt like a stab in her chest to witness her family fall apart like that. 

“You’re asking too much of me,” you kept your eyes down, focusing on the tip of your boots. 

“Nena, look at me,” Rio tried to meet your eyes, but you purposefully kept it down, shaking it stubbornly and hopelessly. She smiled, feigning hurt in her tone as she continued, “You wouldn’t let me go without a proper kiss now, would you?” 

Despite your best efforts, you let out a small watery chuckle at her playful teasing, “I hate that you’re doing this.”

“It’s for Nicky…” She said simply. 

Agatha buried her face in the baby’s naked shoulder, finding comfort in his pure and unique scent. 

“And I am sorry,” when you finally met her eyes, Rio cupped your cheeks, “so sorry you don’t get to be his mother. It’s your right to be.”

But Rio’s lips curled into a reassuring smile, despite her sadness. “Don’t be. I’ll get my turn eventually…  and for now, I’ll be his–”

“Please, don’t say shadow,” you muttered, and that elicited a small chuckle out of the Green Witch. If you turned around you’d see Agatha’s lips stretch into a smile too. 

“Guardian, then.”

You hummed and licked your lips, tasting the saltiness of your own tears in your mouth. 

“Now come here, I waited enough–” 

The witch pulled you closer with ease. Your body crashed into hers but it was okay because she was ready to hold you. 

Agatha could see Rio’s face as she hugged you. She spotted a single tear slip down her eye and her stomach lurched. When you two pulled away, Rio took a few steps back, pulling the green cloak over her head. She lingered a few seconds to memorize the scene before her. You dropped on your knees and landed next to Agatha. Her head immediately lolled on your shoulder, and you turned yours to place your lips in her hair. 

Rio waved softly, then blew a kiss to each of you, “Nos vemos, mis amores.” 

You and Agatha nodded quietly, watching the Green Witch disappear before your eyes. Agatha let out a silent sob when she did; your arms immediately wrapped around her and the baby in a protective embrace. 

“We will be fine, Aggs.” 

When Agatha met your gaze, eyes full of hope and vulnerability, you took a mental vow to protect her and Nicky whatever the cost. 

“Yeah,” she echoed with a smile you immediately reciprocated. She closed her eyes when you leaned in to brush your lips against her still clammy forehead. 

When the baby started crying again, you two pulled away and focused your attention on Nicky. He looked rather pale for your liking, a little warm too. You knew what he needed and so did Agatha. You placed a tender kiss on his cheek, Agatha’s lips curling into a soft smile, while you did. Then you stood, hands on your hips, eyes roaming around your surroundings like a predator looking for its prey. You didn’t want to do this, but you were just a mother trying to keep your son alive. 

When Agatha attempted to get up, you interjected, “stay here for now. Let me do the rest.”

Her expression shifted from confusion to worry, “You shouldn’t be doing this alone.”

“Agatha,” you merely rolled your eyes at that, “You just had our baby, I think it’s not the end of the world if you sit this one out,” your voice laced with a hint of playfulness despite the things you had to do. It’s not that you never killed before, cause you did. Not in cold blood though. You forced yourself into believing that it wouldn’t be much different. Once a wise person told you, a witch must do anything in her power to survive and there’s no shame in that. You were looking at her now, as her attention remained fixed on you. 

“Be careful,” it was supposed to sound like an order, but the softness in her eyes betrayed her. 

You chuckled lightly, “I always am,” you concluded, pulling the cloak up over your head. 

[ganondoodle]

actively fighting a full blown panic attack born out of sadness and anger after having to drive by yet another victim on the side of the road

it makes me livid how accepted it is to just let cats suffer and die disgustingly horrid deaths and live awful short lives just so what, for what?? so you dont have to play with them for an hour a day??? when i was little it was just kinda normal that they disappeared at some point, i didnt understand what it actually meant until our outdoor cat i loved dearly was found in the bushes near our house in a condition so horrible my dad has never told me and i have never dared to ask, she only made it to 6 and had horrible scars and infections before that i allowed my family to convince me to let my first own cat outside, we only had her for a year, she died at only 2 years old, i am still suffering from the guilt, it has never let me go, she went missing for a week and i walked the entire vilage up and down every day, yelling her name, wandering into the forest alone, talking to every stranger i met until one morning my mom told me that our neighbour who works for the city asked if we had a white cat with a very specific collar she had- he found her on a busy road crossing in the next bigger city, i never even got to bury her, its haunting me, the thought of her wandering lost and scared in the city for a week until meeting an awful end gives me headaches, the fact that i was the last one to see her alive, that i put her outside bc we were late for school and had to leave quickly, that she had come home with oil in her fur from crawling through maschines and cars before, that i was worried but still didnt act, that it is my fault, any time i am up to late its coming back, it will never let me go, if i had stood my ground and not allow her outside unless on a leash or similar shed still be alive today, any time i read a description at our local shelter it comes back, they still advocate for outside cats, all of them, even if they have only been an indoor one before, its madness my older sister had a cat, i dont even know how old he got but it wasnt long either, he got hit by a car in front of their house, she has two now again and the only reason she hasnt let them outside is because they havent shown much interest in it, i tried to warn her before and she didnt listen and shes still resistent, even after losing one too

i have seen so many on the side of the road, anywhere i drive i see them, i cannot forget a single one, we are surrounded by farm land and all its giant maschinery, its still common to poison rodents, why do people value them so little, you wouldnt let your dog just live outside in the woods and streets for half the day or more, you wouldnt just throw your guniea pigs on the road and tell them have fun, you wouldnt just let your bird roam outside, there probably assholes that do that too but you cannot tell me its as common as outside cats

i dont understand it, i dont, i wont, i never will, i will never forgive myself this poor little animal that was my responsibility having to pay the price of my ignorance, or my own weakness letting my family convince me despite the awful way we lost one before, it makes me want to explode it hurts my brain in grief and anger i can barely contain

cats deserve to live a safe and long life, i get only having them inside may feel like you are locking them up, but do you think that not doing so is worth having them die a painful death? being poisonend? on purpose even by disgusting people that hate them? abused and chased by other animals and dogs? hurt and lost? cutting their lifespan in half? if they even make it that far? the amount of wildlife that they kill unnecessarily so when all of that is already in a steep decline everywhere? and if they eat what they hunt get infected with diseases or again, poison? die somewhere in agony? if cared for they dont care about going outside, plenty can be leash trained or given a secure way to roam like those cat proof aviary like things, if you dont want to put effort into caring for a cat DONT GET ONE, ALL pets require adequate care, and if you think cats are the easiest bc you only have to feed them every now and then IF they come home? you suck, you are an asshole, i hate you and you do not care about them, if you just want to occasionalyl feed and pet an animal go to the petting zoo

(this is about pet cats of people who can absolutely afford to keep them healthily inside, i know feral cats and those in poor neighbourhoods are a thing, even if not here where i live, and thats a whole other but still similar problem and not the point of this post)

[thesealantern]

Pink corruption headcannons! (Varying from nonsensical, angsty to silly, most of these are weirdly specific but stick with me okay?)

• Pentellow was completely illiterate for a good chunk of her life, Iris has taught her the basics of reading and writing and while she can read simple texts fairly easily she still struggles with writing. Every time she needs to write anything she has Iris do it for her, she walks around the room like an old military general while she’s dictating. (It helps her think)

• Occasionally, when Iris is particularly upset, frustrated or stressed, he’ll blurt out something his dad told him as a kid. No one ever takes it to heart and half the time it isn’t even something particularly offensive but every time it happens Iris feels terrible and I’m telling you this man sits on his bed staring at his hands like “I am no better than my father”, he can time all instances this has happened and yes they haunt him when he’s falling asleep.

• Anytime Pyrare tries to write a letter to the other caretakers it ends in catastrophe. He refuses to shrink for the task, so either he tried to just write in very small letters and the text is absolutely unreadable, he asks Gold to write it who then proceeds to shorten it and leave stuff out (and has occasionally just changed the contents of letters entirely, mostly when it’s someone he doesn’t like) or there was that one time he just sent Pentellow and Iris a monster sized letter. It was a pain to deal with, they still have it somewhere because Pentellow insisted they keep it.

• Iris has a weird hatred towards a very specific kind of cursive most of the people back at the palace (including his father) used. Anytime he sees it anywhere he just gets super irritated, it’s honestly kind of amusing. Is Iris aware that a grudge against a style of writing is stupid? Yeah, but he doesn’t care.

• Gold and Cyanide like to play chess together sometimes, they’re both fairly good at it and their games are super intense and take a long while. The other heroes all collectively suck at chess (Orange is mediocre, Tsavorite and Cyan are a lost cause) but join in if it’s at Pyrare’s place, though that usually leads to them using the ridiculously sized chess board to make up their own games.

• The first time Gold saw a non-monster shape he was absolutely flabbergasted, he did know of them, but for most of his life he hadn’t seen one (I imagine Pyrare and Gold lived a fairly isolated life for the most part) and Pyrare never made it sound like a big deal so he just kinda thought they’d be a bit shorter. The fact they had two eyes was also kind of weird, sure he has two eyes but he just thought that was a hero thing.

• Seeing the inside of a shape-sized house was even more baffling, Gold still hasn’t gotten over how tiny some things are.

•Every time they spend a long time in shape populated area Pyrare is just STARVING, there’s no way any of the inns they stayed at have portions close to what an adult monster needs. He never complains about it though. Honestly I think he would just pass out at one point, the lack of food mixed with so much travelling is bound to catch up to him.

• Kind of random but monsters probably have a much slower heartbeat than shapes. Since most large animals have larger hearts but they pump at a slower pace, I’m pretty sure it has to do with temperature regulation but idk man I’m no biologist.

[irasceris]

There's a lot they're not saying, that much is clear, but it doesn't feel like they have to. Because she's right. He does know her, and doesn't see anything of his current self in there, but the aspiration of what a past version could have tried to live up to. Somewhere. Whatever fragments of selflessness he's held onto have always come with a price someone else had to pay. The more lonely he's become the less of that he's taken on, until the full cost fell on whoever he claims he was helping in the first place. Prime example: Bonnie's life for Elena's. He's never thought twice. Neither has Bonnie. How similar were those motivations, really, when at the core of it, Damon's the only one to benefit? He could count on one - well, likely less than one - hand the number of people he's truly been good to, no personal gain to be had. That number dwindles when he thinks of who it's lasted with. Stefan may be the only left he could make a weak argument for, but Damon still managed to screw that one up pretty spectacularly. It just doesn't end.

"If I squint," he echoes, a half hearted agreement, then with more confidence, "You're a lot better at it than I am." Feels like he should warn her maybe, that love does destroy a person, and it's a dangerous edge to teeter on, but what does he know? It's habitual now, running from whatever burns him. Running back if it hurts bad enough. But that might just be Damon, and his chronic inability to face any problem he can't kill, snark, or bleed away. Bonnie just takes it all and then some, and if it's crippling in any capacity she doesn't let it show. And he's .. jealous of that, in a sick sort of way, when he knows he wouldn't have half the composure but would appreciate the faith. Even when - on the very rare occasion - she's failed, no one's given up on her. Why would they? It's Bonnie, perpetual good man in a storm. Damon fails and it's expected; feels like a set up to prove he's only good for making things worse. Maybe he leans into that too much to change, but it would be nice, he thinks, to be counted on to do the right thing. To shake the court of public opinion just that little bit. Can't be that worth it, though, if Bonnie's not gotten away totally unscathed. She said so herself, that she's lonely, too, all the way on that other side of the spectrum. Damon doesn't know if that's better or worse. Maybe it is the same.

He stretches out, wringing all those thoughts out along with him, until his back cracks and the bed makes some horrible squeaking noise from the splintered pallets beneath the mattress. Pauses to listen for any damage he forgot about, then settles into position again when he's satisfied. It's not that bad. Not something he feels like answering for right this minute, though. "Thanks for this." There's a sincerity that might shock both of them, actually, and while most things he says are to get a reaction this is genuine truth. "The platonic physical touch thing," emphasis for her benefit, "Letting me be .. weird about stuff. Not barbecuing my brain on sight. Means a lot." More than he can appropriately express, unfortunately, and because he doesn't trust himself even in this vaguely vulnerable position, has to add a joke of some sort. "You tell anyone about this I might have to kill you. Or, you'll have to kill me. Let me out of here with some dignity. I'll ... I owe you one." Or two or twenty, she can add it to his tab.

he's quiet for too long, but she doesn't push him on it. understands the risk that comes with loving someone all too well. but she should have pushed him, should have pressed his buttons, shouldn't have let herself forget for a fleeting second who she's with, because now he's gained the upperhand and thinks it's okay to tease her like that. gross. "i'm handsy," bonnie says, holding eye contact, because she knows exactly how to pay him back for being annoying, and it isn't with mutual teasing, it's with a humiliating truth. humiliating for him, anyway, "because you needed it. and it's helping. you're welcome for the gift of physical..." not affection. let's not give him that word as ammunition. "touch."

jeremy. it's the first time damon's dared to bring him up in her presence. "that was..." she starts the sentence before she knows where it's going. she's surprised, in fact, that she doesn't feel angry anymore. not right now. anger's been her constant companion, lately, in the weeks and weeks since elena's birthday; thought for sure it would linger here between them now, a shield against whatever's going on with this conversation, a surefire end to any jeremy subject. but tonight her body's loose, her own thoughts don't feel like bullets, and damon's face isn't her enemy. (it's just a little pathetic, like a pitbull she found on the side of the road.) and bonnie doesn't know if this is forever or if this is a consequence of exhaustion, so she finally continues, "him being human. him having a heart for someone else, not because he wanted to, but because ... sometimes things just turn out that way."

bonnie turns her gaze to the ceiling, because she doesn't need to see the look in his eyes. doesn't need to receive the judgment she's already been angling at herself ever since she took him back. because taking jeremy back wasn't easy, of course not. bonnie has more self-respect than that, but she also has—well, damon said it best, didn't he? she's one to talk. she's lonely, too. she wants to be loved, and she wants to love in return, and she wants it to be easy, romantic, everything. it's just that she isn't an eight year old girl dreaming about some make believe love, she's a grown woman who loved a boy with too much of it to give. and it just didn't all find her. and maybe that's wrong of her. maybe she doesn't have the respect for herself that she thinks she does, because it's her turning the other cheek, it's her saving everyone else's ass, it's her biting her tongue so she doesn't trigger someone else's grief, it's her making her entire year about getting revenge on behalf of the guy who cheated on her once. it's funny, looking at herself from damon's perspective. heartbreaking, a little, but this is who she is. who she's always been.

"i mean." she turns her gaze back to damon, returns that bump of his knee against hers, finally, in silent recognition that she isn't going to kick him out for the subjects they're landing on tonight. "you know me." better than he lets on, she thinks, if only because he never has a reason to talk about it and she doesn't ever want to ask. "you've been watching the whole time, ever since you came back to mystic falls, right? i don't mean this summer, i mean before that. and you encouraged me, actually. think about it. how many times have you been way too ready for me to die for elena?" a little smile; she's not hurt by the truth. it's just an open fact. and she would die for her best friend. for any of her friends. "that's just how i love, i guess. fully. completely. sacrificially. i'll let love destroy me if it's for the right reasons." her smile feels different now, though, the more she vocalizes it. the longer she watches him. "i guess ... i'm almost as unhealthy and messed up as you are, if you squint."

[jaysbookofnothing]

Who I could have been

Often, I wonder what my life could have been had we not come to America. Could I be drinking Lassee's on the streets of Kathmandu, preparing for my final tests for college? Could I be sleeping with the windows open and the crickets' ambiance as my lullaby? Could I know the names of the names of the relatives that I currently do not know? Could I finally speak my mother tongue without embarrassment and tension all through my body? Could I, for the first time in my life, believe in religion? Could I have prayed and worshiped like my mother? I think that girl who I could have been is out there somewhere, maybe in another world, and I hope she's happy.

[lilworms]

so

[steviescrystals]

i seriously need to get a new job and start making money again asap bc i cannot keep living at home much longer it’s driving me insane

(wrote an entire essay in the tags without meaning to oops)

[beastimusprojects]

Chapter 16: Falling together

______________________________________________________________

            “He shouldn’t be alive, but he is. Thank goodness I caught him, but no one should be able to survive a drop from that height.” Hywel gradually came to as the woman standing over him spoke.

            “How am I still alive?”

            “Well, that’s what we were wondering, you got hit a bunch by the glowy lady with the wings, but somehow you killed her about three or four miles up and managed to survive the fall.”

            Hywel sat up, his head hurt, and the world was spinning a little, everything was really bright.

            Devil energy, it’ll wear off as you digest it.

            Oh, that explains it.

            “You’re also horribly emaciated, we got you some stuff to eat, you know, as a thank you for saving… well probably everyone.”

            Hywel realized that he had been moved and was now sitting on the deck of a large ship, but he was hungry, and so he asked no questions before accepting and slurping down the bowl of soup he was given.

            Another woman came up to him, he recognized her as the one Karol had attacked, she was absolutely covered in scars.

            “What did she do to you?”

            “Not much, don’t worry, I’ve had most of these for a long time. Though, I’d be a lot worse if you hadn’t come at that exact moment.”

            “Are you the one she told me about? Phoenix, I think she said?”

            “Yeah, that’s me.”

            “I’m sorry for what you went through, I should have realized that Karol was bad news earlier.”

            “If you don’t mind, can you explain what was going on there? You killed her somehow, no one could see, but she absolutely bodied the best of the hunters.” Phoenix pointed to where Orwen was still lying unconscious.

            “Demon. She had a Devil; I sucked the life right out of her.” Hywel hung his head between his knees.

            “Wow.” Phoenix was oblivious to Hywel’s shame, only in awe of his power. “Just think of what you can do with that kind of power.” She said, almost whispering.

            “But also, what you have to do to get it.” “It’s not worth becoming a monster.”

            “I don’t know, people usually leave monsters alone, if I had what you have…” she trailed off.

            “I should leave, thank you for your hospitality, but I don’t want to overstay my welcome.”

            “You can’t, you saved the lives of literally half the people on this ship, you can stay for as long as you want.”

            “Well, but I have somewhere to be.”

            “Where are you going that can’t wait for you to rest for a few hours?”

            “Core, something bad is going to happen there, pretty soon.”

            “That’s where we’re going to, you can come with us, you need a ship anyway to get there in any reasonable time.” “Unless demons also give you super-fast speed.”

            “Are you sure, you don’t mind traveling with the vessel of a demon?”

            “You are still not the most dangerous person I’m traveling with.”

            “I severely doubt that.”

            “Well, like I said, that guy over there is the most skilled hunter alive, and he currently is on a mission to bring me back to Hunter headquarters.”

            “Wait, is that Orwen Desinor?” “Are you just randomly traveling with Orwen Desinor?”

            “Yeah, and the disgraced crown prince of Levias.”

            “”

            “Yeah, you coming with us really doesn’t add much danger factor to this.”

            “Ok, we’ll get to the Levias thing in a minute, but, why are you traveling with Orwen Desinor if he has a contract on you. I used to be a Seeker, that guy killed Scout! Scout, like it was nothing!”

            Phoenix shrugged “I suspect I am neither as dispassionate nor as tactically minded as I would like to believe.” “So, what do you say?”

            “Ok, I hope I do not live to regret this.”

            “Excellent, let’s give you a tour of the ship.”

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@brokendarkfairyempressforever

@hijabi-flavored-nerd

@betanian117

This chapter is short

New post for the Phoenix Story:

Up to chapter 12:

CW for some Suicidal Ideation, General Angst, Mild Body horror, and as of now, one instance of the f-word.

Chapter 1: A Beautiful Night

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            Phoenix finally relaxed.

            As she watched the moon slide over the sun, she relished in the fact that she was now, truly, wonderfully alone. Alone, more than anyone else had probably been in a long, long time. There are, of course, ways to be alone not requiring physical distance, and ways of being together that overcome any distance. But it had been a decade since Phoenix had truly experienced togetherness in any of those ways, and the physical isolation was as absolute as she could imagine it. There was no one within 30 miles of where she sat, on an island that no one knew existed on the edge of where life in the sky had penetrated. No one could get there, the navigational skills required were immense and rare, even in such far-flung places as this.    

            By all rights, trying to get to Phoenix in that moment would be like trying to contact the spirits of the dead.

            It was good to be alone, for it was only in this isolation, which, she imagined, would be for some soul-crushing, that she was finally safe. For the first time in a long time, a decade, exactly in fact (she had felt her 17th birthday as she stepped onto the island,) she was safe. At that thought, a wave of, not happiness, but certainly peace washed over her.

            She knew it wouldn’t last, in two hours her first scar would twinge, and that would bring back memories of the worst time in her life. And she couldn’t sustain the aloneness, if only for purely practical reasons. But she would enjoy it for now.

            She looked up and saw that the moon had finished its arc, leaving only the corona of the sun visible. As the night songbirds started to sing, Phoenix went to find a place to sleep for the first night in a new chapter of her life.

            And what a beautiful night it would be.

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            It was of course a beautiful night, but Orwen didn’t see much of it, despite his perch on the roof of the headquarters of The Hunters. He did not admire the beauty of the stars or the reflection of the ring of fire in the lake, but rather stared into a handheld mirror, running a finger along his scar.

            The scar should have been a thing of beauty, it was a perfect Hunter’s Mark, a thin but bright slash from the inside of his left eye to the right corner of his mouth. By conventional wisdom, he should have been grateful, the mark was only supposed to fall on the greatest hunters.

            But to him, it only reminded him of his greatest failure. Six months tomorrow. Six months since he had fought the hardest fight of his life. Six months since the first time he thought he might die. Six months since he’d fought and killed the greatest of the Seekers, but that had not been what gave him the scar.

            He was the Nitehawk, the greatest hunter of all time, but a lowlife thief had not only beaten him, she’d marked him.

            “You mean nothing,” he told himself he was talking to the scar, “until I find her.”

            He was not there in the morning.

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            “Not so fast Dere! I can see you.”

            As the figure ran along the wall, Hywel knocked an arrow.

            “Not leaving on my watch!”

            He let the arrow fly. It didn’t strike the figure, but it didn’t need to, because Hywel quickly Stepped, and was up on the wall, arrow gripped in his right hand. His left was soon gripping the figure’s coat, which slowly shifted back into its more natural catlike form.

            “Would you believe I was just out for a walk? It’s a very nice night!” Dere exclaimed.

            “No, I don’t believe the words of demons, especially not ones who I catch escaping.” Dere was always unpleasant to deal with. “And now of all times we can’t afford to give you an inch. Not with Scout dead.” Their leader had been killed 6 months prior, and morale had been severely sapped since. The Seekers, and by extension the Alliance of the Sky, had been losing ground fast ever since. They’d already lost control of Nerestar and Dorsinli.

            Hywel wasn’t worried they’d lose the war anytime soon, but it didn’t look good for his chances of ever leaving this post.

As Hywel carried the wretched thing inside, it displayed an array of strategies to avoid its inevitable return to imprisonment. First it pretended to be cute and demure, then it scratched futilely at Hywel’s thick gloves, screaming obscenities that hadn’t been heard by mortal ears in centuries, then it whispered in his ears with that terrible voice, promises of power and wealth. Lies, of course, though, weighed against the prospect of spending the next decade on post guarding the creature, Hywel had to admit to being tempted.

______________________________________________________________ Chapter 2: A wonderful morning.

            Other than blackberries, the island seemed to be almost completely empty. It would be a lot of work to make the place habitable long term, and that would have to include several trips to somewhere habited. But a few trips to get some chickens and sheep and then Phoenix could probably stay here for a long time. Eventually, she would have to build a house, but she didn’t know where she’d get the materials for such a project.

            Its kind of ironic, I guess. To make my fortress of solitude, I have to go to people.

            I can wait a while though.

            She worked to clear a patch out from the blackberries – fire made quick work of the bushes – more so to distract herself than anything else. She didn’t want to think about… well anything really, because everything would eventually trail back to the fact that she had to go to town. Town, where she might encounter someone who knew her and if she found someone who knew her there, that was the only way she could die.

            Why do I always think about death?

            Its irrational, no one will be there, because no one knows I’m here, that’s why I came here in the first place.

            But in the back of her mind, a picture would not cease to form.

            I hate you, Karol. She thought as she clapped her hands, burning away another blackberry bush.

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            Orwen was known for being fast, but right now he was mostly just frustrated. He had tracked slippery prey before, but Phoenix Alkaryl was one of a kind. Six months of searching had seemed only to deepen her cover, and he could still only narrow her location to about a quarter of The Sky, a pitiful performance by any Hunter, let alone The Nitehawk.

            Doesn’t matter how long it takes. I will find her.

            He was pouring over a map (the mirror laid just north of Levias) as he sat on the 11:45 ferry from Nerestar and Dorsinli, a convenient service which, 6 months ago, he couldn’t have used. He was glad the Free Cities were winning the war, if for no other reason than it made his job easier. Phoenix couldn’t be anywhere in Alliance territory, ever since he had killed Scout of the Seekers, the Alliance had closed their borders to all travel, Phoenix was supposed to be a good navigator, but no one got past Alliance gusters.

            If she’s this far off the map, she probably wanted to disappear. So, she probably went outward.

As he left the boat, he caught a glimpse of something he’d never seen before in an alley. A tall woman, wearing golden chainmail, one side of her face, covered in burns, with three of her limbs replaced with prosthetics. Their eyes met, and she smiled with one half of her face. A Valkyrie, they were all supposed to be on the Levian front. He tried to walk quickly away, but as he turned a corner, he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Excuse me, you are the Nitehawk, yes? You’re looking for a girl named Phoenix, right? The one who gave you The Mark?”

“Indeed.”

“I know where to find her.”

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            Guarding Dere was hell, and Hywel had been booked for a full week of it. In a way, you could understand its plight, Hywel didn’t like to be cooped up either and Dere had been locked away for 150 years. But in every other way, well, the thing was pure evil. You could feel it, just standing near it, malice almost seemed to radiate off of the beast, and if you met its eyes, you saw nothing but two pools of absolute emptiness, not just nothing themselves, but threating to make you nothing as well. And its smile was dreadful, you knew it was happy with itself, and when you saw it smiling, you couldn’t even hate it, the hate would drain away before you could replenish it. All you could feel was nothing.

            And then there was its voice. It didn’t make any sound, you heard it in your head. It didn’t say anything of any consequence, but it seemed to know everything about you. Or sometimes it would say the most utterly outrageous things, but that was the trouble, after a while of hearing, you sometimes wouldn’t know the difference.

            It was evil. In its most concentrated and loathsome form. Precisely what the Seekers were out to eradicate. Or at least that’s what they said. In the last couple of years, they seemed to mostly be fighting in the war. Capturing and killing things like Dere was precisely what Hywel had signed up for. Though the job mostly consisted of long guarding of the one that had already been captured.

            Sometimes I hate this job.

            You know, if you’d be willing to make a deal, I could give you the power to do all the things you want. Just think of how much better the world could be if you had that power.

            I always hate you.

            It was going to be a long week.

______________________________________________________________

Chapter 3: A Long Week.

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            Hyla really didn’t constitute a city. But it was enough. Big enough that she could buy chickens and sheep. Big enough that her nerves would never rest. She was only there for a few hours, but her heart pounded the entire time. Her nerves acted up around any large group of people, but they were worse this week than ever. She was constantly reminded by her scars. This week one decade prior had given her so many. A particularly large one panged on her chest as she arrived back on the island, she’d killed the bear, but not before taking a swipe.

            Desperate for distraction, she started planting vegetables, with any luck, she’d get some potatoes before winter hit. Then it wouldn’t be as bad as that first winter she’d weathered. She worked furiously, and the potatoes were all planted within an hour, she’d thought it would take till nightfall.

            Ok, we’ll start building shelter then.

            She dug out a pit, which she preceded to thatch over with blackberries, a task that, blessedly, took her the rest of the week. It was not a complete respite from her thoughts and memories, but it provided some comfort. It wasn’t ideal, but it was critically big enough for all three of her new sheep. They wouldn’t do well outside with how cold outer ring winters could get. Even with her magic, Phoenix had not relished the idea of spending a winter without shelter.

______________________________________________________________             I probably shouldn’t trust her. The Valkyries were a very secretive organization, not known for good faith offerings of assistance. But I can’t just let her go.

            “Where?”

            “The city of Asera.” Asera made as much sense as anywhere else, a Free City on the outer ring with enough people to disappear into, but not enough that you would definitely get caught.

            “Why do the Valkyries know that?”

            “Alkaryl is of special importance to us, whenever she is spotted, we’re the first to know.” A little suspect that the Valkyries have more of a stake than the Hunters, but all right.

            “And why tell me?”

            “You ask a lot of questions.” She raised her eyebrow.

            “Well, sorry if you don’t look like a particularly reliable source.”

            “It’s her time to die.”

            “Thank you for the information.” Orwen turned to go.

            “You misunderstand, I am to accompany you.” Fine by him, passing up the help of one of the most feared fighters in the Sky would only hurt his mission.

            “All right, we leave at once then.”

            She shook her head “I have a few matters to attend to beforehand. Meet me by the northern gate.”

            Orwen tried to dispel his suspicions about the Valkyrie. His instincts were usually right, but he hadn’t slept in a while, and her story made sense, he needed her help to find Phoenix. But something still just wouldn’t sit right. He’d have to tough it out, for the mission.

            Traveling with Sharon was not pleasant, she seemed to be all business, and was pushing Orwen to go faster, despite the fact that he was travelling with almost three times the normal weight. Her face apparently never moved, and she refused to engage in any conversation that wasn’t complaining about how long Orwen’s Speed took to recharge (despite the fact that they were on track to cover two thousand miles in a week.) But thankfully, Orwen’s suspicions subsided, though that might have been more because he was collapsing into bed at the end of each day.

            But, after all this time, he was finally moving forward with his mission.

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            Hywel emerged from his Hell on the fifth day, after 4 sleepless nights in a row, facing two more, when respite finally came.

            “Hywel, you have been summoned to the Chamber.”

            “Thank you, and I’m sorry you have to deal with this thing now.” Hywel gestured to Dere fatalistically.

            “They’re coming with us.”

            “What?”

            The other seeker shrugged, unlocked the cage, and slipped Dere into some kind of collar “I don’t know, I was just told to get both of you.”

            Hywel was led to the doors of the Chamber and then was left with Dere’s leash.

            The doors into the Chamber felt especially heavy on Hywel’s tired hands as he pushed them open. He had been here many times before, but now of all times, it felt imposing. Dere’s whispers had not stopped.

            The Chamber was laden with the scent of old parchment paper and dead spells. It was deafeningly silent, except for a scribe scribbling minutes of the previous engagement, probably an execution, given the somber looks of the Council. They sat on a raised platform, overlooking the whole room, there were seven of them, and all of their choices were final.

“Hywel Sutherland. Seeker Honorable.”

            “I sir.” Hywel snapped to attention.

            “Do you know why you have been summoned?”

            “I was not informed, sir.” He looked up, the center councilmember was the one speaking, Garrel Satia, Killer of a Thousand foes. A garish title, but Hywel was in the presence of legends.

            “A great time has come upon us. For just yesterday a method has been discovered to eliminate the Demon of which you now hold the leash from this world.” Oh, this’ll be good, how do they think they’ll get rid of me this time… Dere’s voice echoed, Dere caught his eye, They try to do this at least once a year, don’t worry, it won’t work, but you might die anyway…

            As if to confirm the cat’s words, another councilmember spoke, Latise SeBorno. “And we are fortunate to have such a dedicated seeker as yourself at this time, for the ritual is not without sacrifice.”

             “You, Hywel Sutherland, Seeker Honorable, have been chosen for this purpose.” This is what they always do, sacrifice loyal subjects for a chance at killing the only thing they fear. By the way, my offer still stands, but this is one of your last times to take it. The last guy didn’t and they let the Nitehawk kill him.

            “What kind of sacrifice does the ritual entail?” Hywel asked.

            “If all goes well, it will leave you exhausted for days” Made up, killing a demon would drain anyone for years… “If the worst occurs, you may have to give your life.” You see?

            A third councilmember spoke up. “It is for this purpose that you have been tested, to prove your loyalty before we asked this of you.” You’ve been guarding my cell for five days, I thought they discovered it yesterday?

            “And what if I refuse?” In response to this question, all seven of them stood up.

            “THE COUNCIL HAS CHOSEN; ALL OF THEIR CHOICES ARE FINAL.”

            Is it too late yet Dere?

            Fortunately for you, it’s never too late to make a deal!

            Ok, I accept. His mind raced, but there was no time to think about this decision. Everything went black.

______________________________________________________________

            It opens its eyes.

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Chapter Four: A first eventful hour.

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            Two Levians were sitting at the bar. Phoenix studied them as she sipped on her drink, tea. She’d had to come into town to stock up on food, as winter had started early. Almost a month earlier than it should have. She’d been forced to come inside or be outside in a winter storm. So, she sat in the safest seat in the tavern, a lonely table with a view of the entire space and surveyed the Levians.

            She knew they were from Levias for a number of reasons. The first was that they were loud, she could listen to their conversation from across the room. The second was the woman’s jade earrings, unusual for this region. They had matching upper arm tattoos of a snake eating its own tail, which probably meant that they worked for the Levian government directly.

            These were highly unusual people to be here, but they didn’t seem like bounty hunters. If this hadn't been a very small town, she might have pegged them as tourists. They weren’t wearing rings, so probably not a married couple. They seemed like good friends though, which made Phoenix jealous, though she didn’t really think much of it. She took out her necklace, a piece of wood, polished so smooth that it could have been mistaken for a gemstone. It was a gift from her father, he’d given it to her after her sister died, he was already sick and said he didn’t think he’d last much longer. He died that night.

            “Hey, I really love your necklace.” Phoenix had drifted into her own thoughts and was stunned to see that the Levians had come over to her table. It was the girl who had given her the compliment.

            “Oh, oh, oh, umm, Thanks? I guess.” She stammered.

            “Sorry if I intruded, you were looking kind of sad, and then I saw that we have the same necklace.” The woman pulled out a necklace which was, in fact, almost identical to Phoenix’s.

            “Wow, uh, yeah, its cool.” Not to mention impossible, her father had never been to Levias. “How?”

            “What do you mean “how”?”

            “I mean, this necklace was given to me by my father, who had never been to Levias.”

            “Well, then he got it from someone else, because that’s the only place they’re made.”

            “Weird.”

            “You look like you have a lot of stories you could tell.” The large man commented.

            The woman shot him a look. “I’m sorry about Flynn, he means well but doesn’t understand social cues sometimes. We’ll leave you alone now.”

            “He’s not wrong, you can take a seat if you want.” She gestured to the empty chairs. “I’m Phoenix by the way.”

______________________________________________________________

            Sharon shook Orwen in the middle        of the night.

            He was awake.

            He was running.

He didn’t know what he was running from.

“Get down.”

They both dove.

He thought they had both dove.

His hands were tied behind his back.

            I probably shouldn’t trust her. Orwen’s own thoughts came back to him as he was struck on the head.

He woke up in a dark room, hands shackled to a wall.

            I failed.

            No, I cannot fail, I’ll escape this.

            These are Valkyries, there is no escaping this.

            I’m the freaking Nitehawk, I’ll find a way.

            His thoughts were muddled but quick, probably a concussion. He surveyed his surroundings as his eyes adjusted. He couldn’t make much out.

            Fuck this. He stomped at the ground angrily.

            The cell was small and cramped, with thick iron bars, the shackles were tight enough to cut into his wrists. No way to escape unless he was let out, no way they’d be stupid enough to do that.

            I will escape, I have to. He let out a scream of frustration. But this is going to set me so far back.

______________________________________________________________

            Hywel woke up with a pounding headache and a feeling like dread. But not for the future, but for the past.

            Yeah, the first time does that to you. There’s water on the table behind you, drink all of it. You’ll die if you don’t drink and eat enough, and neither of us want that yet. Dere’s voice in his head. But all he could think about was water.

            He found the jug and downed the entire thing. But when he looked up, he took a step back in shock.

            The scene before him was horror.

            He could recognize the walls of the Seeker complex, but the buildings had been leveled. Everything had been stained pitch black, like the aftermath of a wildfire, though Hywel knew this had been much, much worse.

            And its my fault.

            His entire world started spinning. He felt dizzy. This was his choice. Everyone was dead. It was his fault. His whole life was gone. He chose this. He must have known the deal wouldn’t end well. Everything he stood for, gone in a moment.

            Am I the bad guy now?

            This one question consumed his entire world as he collapsed back onto the ground.

______________________________________________________________

Chapter Five: A second eventful hour.

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            The woman had introduced herself as Persephone, and the large man was Flynn. They had plenty of stories of their own to tell, apparently it had been a while since they’d left Levias, and they’d gotten in no small share of trouble since.

            “And then less than an hour after we get rid of the dragon, what do we see, but a pirate flag. Luckily, our ship has wards for cannon fire, but these are pirates with trained dragons we’re talking about.” Flynn was busily recounting the story.

            “So obviously, we just hightail it out of there, we actually used the wind jar we got from the cyclops incident here, because, come on, pirates with dragons.” Persephone interjected to finish the story.

            “Skull and crossbones with wings? On a background somewhere between yellow and green?” Phoenix thought she knew the pirates in question.

            “Exactly.”

            “Well then, that’ll be Jorge Redbeard. Kinda a nasty guy, I hear it’s not even his natural beard color. I got captured by them once, not for very long, but I did see around the ship.” Phoenix leaned in. “Dragon droppings absolutely everywhere.”

            “Hilarious.”

            There was a pause in the conversation, but Phoenix didn’t want to stop talking.

            “So, what actually brings you all this way from Levias?”

             They looked at each other awkwardly, as if sharing a secret conversation through just their eyes, before Persephone apparently decided this was information that could be divulged.

            “It’s complicated, but the short version is that Flynn is suffering from a terrible disease. We’re looking for a cure.” The levity drained from Persephone’s face as she said this.

            “Oh”

            Flynn waved a hand dismissively “Don’t worry about me, I won’t die… at least not soon, I just can’t go back until I’m cured.” He acted like it was the most reasonable reaction in the world.

            “Where are you going?”

            “It’s a small village, named Ser, there’s a healer there, supposed to be the best.” Persephone was apprehensive.

            “I know him, and he is the best.”

            “How?”

            “It used to be my home.”

______________________________________________________________

            It wasn’t long before someone came to get Orwen. She unlocked the shackles but kept her hand tight on his wrist. Pushing him roughly forward. He didn’t struggle, there wouldn’t be much point yet, he’d been trained for situations like this, he had to follow that training.

            He was led into a large room lit by torches, with a big round table in the middle, surrounded by Valkyries, he could recognize Sharon across the table from him. He was sat down into a chair, and his hands were locked into another set of shackles.

            “Good job people. We caught him.” The Valkyrie in charge spoke to the others. “The Nitehawk, right in our trap.”

            “You just gonna keep gloating?” Orwen was practiced in keeping a calm demeanor.

            “You’re in no position to talk, you fell for it.”

            “I mean, it was a good plan, and lucky timing, you wouldn’t normally be able to do that.”

            “You’re just bitter.”

            “Are you ever gonna tell me why I’m here?”

            The goal was annoyance was keeping the idea that he was completely trapped. This was, of course, not true, these shackles were much looser, he could dislocate his thumbs and slide them right off. But that wouldn’t do him much good right now, surrounded and unarmed, he had to buy time.

            “Why so impatient? It’s not like you’ve got anywhere to go.”

            Orwen smiled. “Actually, you are detaining me from an important mission for the Hunters.” The training was working, and he’d just found his way out, an outward facing window, thirty feet up, not ideal, but workable.

            “Well, if you must know.”

            Monologuing? His respect for the Valkyries was dwindling by the second. The woman in charge was describing gruesome torture methods, but she was putting the implements on the table, about 3 feet in front of him. She had better get fired for such a lapse in judgement. Not that anyone less skilled than Orwen would be able to escape. Then it happened. The guard change, all six subordinate Valkyries filed out of the room through the opposite door, the new ones coming in only a second afterward, but a second was all he needed.

            “I’m really embarrassed for you here.” Orwen said before using Perfection.

         ��  Everything started to move in slow motion. Then his hands were free, then the lead Valkyrie was hit over the head with a large set of thumbscrews. Then he grabbed a spear and vaulted, landing on a ledge 10 feet up. Just 20 more to go, he’d practiced the next move many times. He dashed to the corner, and then using his Speed, ran up the wall, catching the edge of the window and pulling himself up and over onto the other side. He didn’t have any speed left, but he didn’t need it. There was a direct line of sight from here to a dock with a small gondola. He stopped using Perfection, he didn’t need it anymore.

            Clean escape, that’s what they’d trained him for.

            Hywel woke up a second time, but this time, he just stared at the sky.

            I can’t be. I spent my whole life dreaming of fighting… what I am now?

            You’ll destroy yourself thinking like that, believe me I know.

            So, what do I do.

            Distract yourself, anything, I recommend getting off this island and getting us some food.

            I can’t just distract myself from the revelation that I am now everything I know to be wrong.

            What do you think demons have been doing all this time?

            It wasn’t a bad point, so Hywel went looking for a boat, whatever he was gonna do, he needed to get off this island.

______________________________________________________________

            Chapter 6: Godspeed.

______________________________________________________________

            It was decided that Phoenix would accompany Persephone and Flynn to Ser. It was a dangerous choice, Persephone and Flynn were still not much better than strangers, but Phoenix didn’t think that she could let them leave without her, during their conversation, something had stirred within her that she hadn’t felt in a long time, and now that she remembered it, it would be impossible to forget anytime soon.

            It was dumb, of course. She didn’t like it. She’d made the same mistake with Karol, and that had left her with a knife between her shoulder blades.

            But this felt different.

            Of course it did, this time she would take precautions. She wouldn’t let herself get too attached, and she’d remain ready to escape at a moment’s notice. She wouldn’t be trapped.

            Persephone and Flynn’s ship was massive, with three masts and several decks. The fact that they had been able to sail it with no extra crew meant that it almost certainly also had magic. It was truly a beautiful thing. And it was fast. Multiple times the top speed of Phoenix’s little gondola. They had enough space to pen up Phoenix’s animals, and within a day of the end of the storm, they had left for Ser, though, even with such a marvelous ship, traveling a hundred miles in outer ring winter would be nigh impossible without masterful navigation skills. Which was probably the only reason why she’d been invited along.

______________________________________________________________

            Three days and nights in a small gondola adrift in the clouds. Orwen preferred running to boating, but he was competent enough in an emergency, which this definitely constituted. Even though he’d escaped, he’d be hunted down if he wasn’t careful. That’s what had gotten him into this mess in the first place, carelessness, he hadn’t followed his training, he’d been too focused on that one thing that he’d gotten sloppy. He couldn’t afford to get sloppy. He needed to focus on everything all at once. He’d need to do this perfectly to have any chance at completing the mission.

            He finally arrived at his destination. He had no reason to believe that Phoenix was in Asera, but he did have a contact here that might be able to help. He’d been to Asera before, so he knew his way around, but between constantly checking to see if he was being followed and the fog that had been slowly encroaching on more and more of his waking hours due to lost hours of sleep, he missed turns constantly, and actually getting to his destination took him almost two hours.

            Three knocks on the door, pause, repeat, pause, repeat.

            The door was opened, and he was welcomed into a cozy little house with a fire roaring and a meal already cooking. He did not enter but stood in the doorway.

            “You look like absolute crap.”

            “Feel like it too.” Orwen longed to collapse into the guest bed, Bolson always kept it ready. “But I don’t have much time, I gotta get going soon.”

            “Chasing Phoenix still?” “You ought to stay and rest a little, you can’t bring her in in this condition.”

            “You forget who you’re talking to.”

            “All right, all right. You’re in luck, we just got word about her.”

            “Really, where?”

            “Our person trailing the crown prince of Levias saw her leave with them.”

            “So, she’ll be in Ser, and soon.” “That’s a ways away. I better get going. Thanks.”

            Orwen turned to leave.

            “Hey, remember not to run too fast, you’re gonna run yourself to death at this rate.”

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            Hywel had never been very good with boats, but he didn’t know where he was going anyway, so it didn’t matter that he went slowly.

            Where do I go?

            Big island, on the horizon, there’s houses, there’ll be food.

            I know, but after that where? I don’t know what I’m doing anymore.

            Just focus on now, get food, eat it, then you can think about where to go next.

            Do you ever think about anything other than food?

            I think of lots of things that I want.

            Ok, but anything other than what you want right now?

            No, what else would I think about?

            I don’t know. The future, the past, the people around you and what they need. Right and wrong.

            That’s complicated. I prefer food.

            I guess that makes sense. What did the Seekers call you things? Holes in the universe.

            And the very manifestations of hunger and lust, yes, you get it, I eat, and then I go find other things to eat.

            Hywel would not be finding any answers to his problems from Dere, but of course, it wasn’t like he could keep his thoughts to himself, he didn’t know exactly what had happened, but Dere was somehow… a part of him now.

            That’s why you’re evil, I guess. You can’t really be anything else. Unsatisfiable hunger never really helped anyone.

            It helped you.

            At what cost though? Is it even worth it? Considering that my life cost that of others?

            This is why I focus on food. Anyway, we’re here.

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            Chapter 7: A Sight in the Distance.

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            Phoenix looked out from the crow’s nest of the ship across the sea of clouds. She didn’t have to be up here, it was a calm day, and the ship could essentially sail itself. She could have been down on the deck, where Persephone and Flynn were talking. She could be a part of that conversation.

            But she was anxious. She worried about whether this was really a good choice. Her instincts told her that getting too close to these people would end poorly. Like with Karol, and Seria. Her instincts had kept her alive this long.

            And yet…

            Another part of her longed to descend.

            Persephone looked up at the crow’s nest. Phoenix hadn’t come down in a while, she didn’t even think she’d gotten lunch. She was debating whether it would be better to bring her some food, or if she probably needed to be left alone.

            “You should go check on her.”

            “And have to climb all that way?”

            “You could always fly up, I really don’t understand the point of hiding that stuff from her, she seems trustworthy, it’s not like she’s gonna do anything bad to us.”

            “Remember that we’re taking precautions for you. You are way too important to risk like that.”

            “Ok, but we both know you’re gonna check on her. It’s your arms that have to haul you up there.”

            “You could probably throw me.”

            “Is that not more suspicious?”

            “I don’t know.” Persephone left to get some sandwiches.

            “You climbed all that way just to bring me sandwiches?”

            “Indeed, but mostly to check how you’re doing. You’ve been up here for a long time.”

            “Yeah.”

            Phoenix picked up a sandwich off the plate and started eating.

            “You like being alone?”

            “I don’t know if I’d say that.”

            “Then it’s probably just comfortable. You’ve been alone for a long time.”

            “Definitely that.” She took another bite.

            “And going back to Ser is dredging some stuff up.”

            “Going back to your home does that.”

            “It’s not my home, hasn’t been for a long time.”

            “I hear that. I could say the same for where I was born.” Persephone stared wistfully “I assume there’s no family waiting for you?”

            Phoenix shook her head. “I’ve been an orphan since I was 6.” “These sandwiches are really good.”

            Persephone could tell she didn’t want to talk about it. “Thanks, I make my own mustard.”

            Phoenix saw the island of Ser in the distance.

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            Orwen ran.

            The path he was taking had been built recently, to help move supplies for the war effort. Warpaths were always good for him; they took away the requirement for ferries.

            He was using every once of Speed he got, and walking in between uses. This wasn’t the healthiest way to do it, but it was the fastest. He could rest when he’d found her.

            He slept as little as possible. He needed regular sleep, or his Speed wouldn’t work, but he had to keep going. He was so close he could taste it. Several times he’d thought he’d seen Valkyries in the bushes. He didn’t know if he’d know if they were real.

            He was so tired.

            But he had to keep running.

            Run.

            Run.

            Run

            Run.

            Run.

            Run.

            Run.

            Fight.

            They were on him.

            He stabbed.

            They died; he’d hit his mark.

            Run.

            Run

            Run.

            Run

            Run.

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            Hywel ate. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was. He must have eaten every last crumb they had to offer.

            I guess having a demon inside you probably does that. Ok, I ate, now what do I do?

            Probably sleep.

            You’re no help.

            Hey, I just say what I’m feeling.

            Hywel just started walking. He didn’t know what he was looking for, but he hoped he’d know it when he found it.

            Possession seemed to have its merits. Even though he was constantly hungry and sleepy, he didn’t seem to need food or sleep to survive, or at least, he was able to walk without stopping or sleeping for 5 days straight, so that seemed to be the takeaway.

            He finally stopped only when he saw it. The front line of the war. A burning mass of shattered, quickly constructed defenses. They had recently lost a battle. He didn’t know which side they were, and though he might have cared sometime earlier in his life, he couldn’t care less now. All he saw were the dragons.

            You aren’t supposed to use dragons as weapons. In captivity they’re killing machines, and if they get loose, they cause immense amounts of damage, indiscriminately, but in the wild they are gentle giants, and rarely have negative encounters with anything other than sheep.

            The fact that there was a village this close to the front line was a tragedy enough. But there was a village, and dragons. Hywel had no more thoughts.

            It took seconds, or it seemed like seconds, for Hywel to get between the village and the dragons. He had climbed onto the tallest building in town. And he had his bow at the ready already. As soon as the closest beast was within range, the arrow fired, and then Hywel was on the dragon’s back. He didn’t know what he was doing, the power seemed to flow from instinct, not thought, the beast’s throat was torn out and he had leaped to another one.

            It was less than a minute before he landed, standing on top of the last dragon’s corpse, in the center of the village. The villagers didn’t cheer. They had been saved. But not by a hero, but by what was, to the vision of everyone, a monster.

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            It stirs in its nest, looking out over the city.

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            Chapter 8: Continuance.

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            Ser was not like Phoenix remembered. It was a warzone; a battle had broken out recently nearby. Keeping track of the front lines was an impossible task these days. Phoenix hesitated, Flynn and Persephone did not.

            They were immediately in the streets, telling people to get out, to go to their ship if there was nowhere else. Several houses had been hit by projectiles from the battle. Flynn quickly went to work getting people out of them.

            The Firethrower. That’s why the battle was here. Most towns didn’t have one, sole control over one made it almost impossible to attack you, but this town had little value outside of it. Phoenix was running, through the town, through the crowds of people. It was the major threat to the city, but it could be easily neutralized. Until she got to the battle scene.

            This is insane. That didn’t stop her. She threw herself into the mass of soldiers. She was adept at moving through crowds, and she wasn’t wearing the colors that would indicate to either side that she was an enemy. So, it didn’t take her nearly as long as it should have. She didn’t know why she was doing it. She wouldn’t normally risk herself like that. But there wasn’t time to think about that right now.

            The weapon was made of wood, it was trivial to set it alight with her power, though, given its size, it took a while to really start burning. She was outside the crowd of combatants before they started to realize what had happened. Both sides of the battle started retreating quickly, but as she looked back she saw sizeable groups of soldiers peeling off to follow her.

            Drat. She sprinted away as hard as she could. Some of them had horses, she wouldn’t be able to outrun them, but maybe she could get back to the ship before they thought to cut her off. The town looked to have been evacuated successfully. There was a throng of people on the dock. And Flynn and Persephone were… running toward her?

            “What are you doing?”

            “Coming to help you!” Flynn roared.

            “If you didn’t notice, there’s a full army, get to the ship.”

            “We can’t lead them that way, there’s innocent bystanders.” Persephone said.

            “We can’t exactly fight here.”

            “Watch us.”

            Phoenix stopped as she got to them and turned around to face the oncoming army. It was a hundred to three.

            “You’re gonna like this one.” Persephone smiled as she threw off her cloak, revealing a pair of sparkling butterfly wings, which started to flap, as she shrunk within seconds to the size of a squirrel.

            She flew straight towards the oncoming throng, reaching a fast speed before – Phoenix couldn’t believe her eyes – she grew not only to her original size, but fifteen times the size. Digging large furrows into the ground where she landed, and probably more importantly, scaring the horses, and some of the people too.

            “That buys us some time.” Flynn was right. They were chaos now. But it wasn’t over, as a few dozen foot soldiers were still running towards them. “It’s big and flashy, but she can’t maintain that size for very long, she expends enough of her power just staying human sized all the time.” “I don’t suppose you are good at one versus many fighting?”

            “Not really, requires touch.” She held up her hands to indicate she was talking about her powers.

            “Ah, well. I’m sure Persephone will understand that this was necessary. Probably be able to scare these guys off pretty easily.” He turned towards the oncoming soldiers; they were only about 60 cubits away now. He looked towards the sky, and his body started to change.

            Phoenix knew what they were trying to cure now. Ursanthropy.

            Faced with a twelve-foot tall werebear, the soldiers turned tail.

            That was intense. That was insane. Why did I do that?

            Persephone and Flynn were returning to their normal selves as they walked back.

            They didn’t hesitate. I guess I was just following them.

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            There was a point that Orwen got to where he couldn’t feel exhaustion anymore. He couldn’t feel anything anymore. All that was left was determination. He was so close, within mere hours, his mission would be complete.

            There was nothing left to think about but what he would do when he finally saw her face. As he sat eating his dinner – the last dinner before he got to her – he looked into his little mirror (for some reason the Valkyries hadn’t taken it.)

            Soon, it’ll all be worth it.

            He thought of what he’d say to her. What would be a suitable ending line for this, the greatest chase of his life.

            Phoenix Alkaryl, fleet of foot and strong of spirit. I am Orwen Desinor, the Nitehawk, master hunter. You have fled me for too long, but now it is time for this to come to an end.

            He pressed forward, less than a mile left to go.

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            Hywel ate and killed. It was all he could bring himself to do. There was a lot to kill in this part of The Sky, word of him quickly spread, he left quite the impression on those who saw him. He came to understand that people thought of him like a monster, that was how he saw himself, but they knew that if they pointed him in the direction of something evil, he would kill it, it was the only way he clung to the semblance of sanity he had left. He was able to convince himself that even if he was a monster, he could make himself a useful one.

            And Dere was happy to oblige this behavior.

            He caught a reflection of himself in a pool of water. A sunken face, despite all of the food he gorged himself on, he was emaciated. He was taller than he had been (now almost seven feet), but horribly thin, his skin (grey, or purple, or red, or yellow depending on where you looked) hung off of him in most places, as if it was made for a much larger man. His joints hung loose, constantly either horribly stiff or horrifyingly flexible.

            It reminded him of why he was doing what he was doing. He wanted to die, but he couldn't justify doing it in any other way. And so he ripped and tore through the other monsters in these islands, he didn’t know where he was anymore, but he didn’t care.

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            Chapter 9: Face to Face.

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            Qualos wasn’t there. He had died months before, not from the war, but of consumption, the same thing that had killed Phoenix’s father and sister years before. There had been an outbreak, leading to the deaths of dozens of people. There wasn’t anyone left who cared about Phoenix’s exile. Which should have been a relief, it was convenient for her. But she couldn’t be happy about death.

            The damage from the battle wasn’t huge, all things considered, only a few people were injured, and the people who lived in the destroyed houses found other places to stay, at least for the time being. But there was quite a bit to do, and it was almost an hour after the fighting had stopped before Flynn and Persephone approached Phoenix again.

            “So, I’m guessing you have questions?”

            “Not really, I think the fact that you’re a fairy with growth powers and Flynn is a Werebear is evident enough.”

            “That’s not exactly it though.”

            “Hmm.”

            “Flynn is also the crown prince of Levias.”

            “Nice.” Phoenix smiled. She wasn’t especially surprised, the giant fairy thing had kind of prepared her for anything. “Ok, so we got a disgraced prince in exile until he can find a cure for his Ursanthropy, and his guardian slash best friend, the two-inch-tall fairy who pretends to be a human but can also be the size of a giant. Anything else?”

            “That’s essentially it.” “None of that is surprising you?”

            “I’ve had a weird life. Traveling thief isn’t a career for the faint of heart. And honestly, that’s a pretty logical explanation for two Levians with a massive, fancy ship traveling alone to a tiny village at the edge of The Sky.”

            “So where do we go now?” Flynn asked. “I mean, this is a dead end.”

            “For a cure for Ursanthropy?” “The only other possibility is Core.” “That’s a long way though. We need to leave as soon as possible.” Phoenix started towards the ship, she didn’t really want to spend any more time here than necessary, there was no closure here anymore to the pain this town had caused her.

            “Is there nothing else you want to do while we’re here?” Persephone asked.

            “Nope, I told you, this used to be my home.”

            “Well, we can’t leave just now, we have to buy some supplies if we’re going on that long of a trip.”

            Phoenix settled on wandering around the town for a few hours, she’d be couped inside the ship for long enough soon.

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            She was right there. He could see her. The journey was over, there was only one thing left for Orwen to do.

            “Phoenix Alkaryl, strong spirited and fleet of foot. I am Orwen Desinor, the Nitehawk. You have fled for a long time, but it is time for this to end. Have you any final words?”

            “Orwen! Nice to see you! It’s been a while.” Phoenix turned around. “Nice speech. A few comments. First, my name is Alkaryl, it’s Liventis, Alkaryl was my mother, though you Hunters probably only have us under her name from the military records. Second, you will not be capturing me today.” She held her dagger close. This would be a hard fight. But he would be attempting to take her in alive, which she knew wasn’t his specialty. She clapped her hands as she said “Ok, let’s do this.”

            This was a distraction tactic, intimidation like this was a Hunter thing. He ignored her and started channeling Perfection he was low on both of his powers, he needed to get this over quickly. And he only had one knife, so throwing was out. He closed the distance quickly, ducking under her first attack and jabbing into her stomach, before dashing back out of reach.

            She was clutching her side where he had stabbed her, but also… smiling? “You’ll have to do better than stabbing old wounds.” Indeed, as she took her hand away from her side, she revealed a charred hole in her shirt, and underneath a large amount of old scar tissue, and the newly cauterized wound.

            He dashed back in, he couldn’t sustain Speed or Perfection much longer, he needed to end this now. Her knife was red hot as she took a swing at him. A torso strike wouldn’t do much to her, she was apparently practiced fighting through the pain, maybe if he hit her wrists? He ran out of Speed, he should have saved some up, but he had been in a hurry. He was still able to perfectly parry the knife, knocking it out of her hands. He turned to strike at her body again as he saw his fatal mistake, with no speed left to dodge it. He’d been focused on the knife; he hadn’t looked at her other hand. It landed on his shoulder, red hot. He blacked out from the pain, he barely had time to scream.

            He had failed.

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            Dere saw fear. Hywel saw justification. Or at least a route to it. It was a horrifying scene. Thankfully Hywel knew it wasn’t happening, yet this was the future.

            People screamed. The streets ran red with blood. Hywel didn’t know what was going to cause it, but he thought Dere did. It didn’t matter, he knew he could stop it.

            A beast lingered over the bodies of the people it had slain, licking its lips. Hywel almost cheered. This was what he was looking for. If he was to be a monster, if all that he would be able to do was kill, he could kill this thing, he got the sense that it was the biggest monster of all.

            It cannot be killed. Dere’s voice was panicked. Do not look for it, you will die.

            I think that’s the goal.

            No, you cannot kill this, it is not some small beast. Even we fear it.

            Well, if demons fear it, then it must be evil. Maybe I can find the justification I’m looking for.

            Do you know what happens to me if you die?

            You’ve been fine with it until now.

            Only because you haven’t been after things that I couldn’t beat. That’s no dragon, that’s… IT.

            Well, we better find a way to kill it. Because I’m doing it either way.

            Hywel saw where it would happen, Core. And then he thought he saw It look right at him.

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            Chapter 10:

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            “We can’t really do anything else except wait for him to wake up.” Persephone had treated Orwen’s burn. It wouldn’t heal completely, Phoenix had only touched him for a second, but the heat had immediately caused a bright white handprint to form, and parts were brown or almost black. “It’s a pretty bad burn, and I think that he was already pretty exhausted, but he should survive.”

            “How long until we’re able to leave?”

            Persephone knew what Phoenix meant; she didn’t want to be here when Orwen woke up. “I don’t want to leave him here; this town doesn’t have anyone trained enough to treat him.” “If that gets infected, and no one is here to help him, he’ll die.” “And quick or not, he can’t get himself to the next town.”

            Phoenix understood that Persephone didn’t want to be responsible for his death, Phoenix didn’t want to either, especially not in this town, but still... “So, we just take him with us?” “Did you forget he tried to kill me?”

            “Yeah, if we’re going to go, we should take him.“ Persephone looked over at where Flynn was “and we need to leave.” She looked at Phoenix “look, I get that you don’t want to travel with him, maybe this is where we leave you.”

            Phoenix balked at that, but she didn’t know why. Yeah, that was the most logical answer. But, for some reason…

            She shook her head “no, you need me if you’re going to navigate all the way to Core.” She was fighting to stay with these people? She’d fought long and hard to get to where she was, she’d gotten paid already, she should just let them go and go back to her little island. Was she really going to choose traveling with the assassin that had hunted her for months.

            Yes, yes, she was. “Look, so long as he’s injured, I don’t think he poses much of a threat. As soon as he can walk though, we drop him off.”

            “Absolutely. And we can keep him in a locked room too.” Persephone smiled; she was glad Phoenix wanted to stay with them. “Hey Flynn, come over here, help me get this guy loaded up so we can leave.”

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            Orwen didn’t wake up for almost a day, when he did, he was on his stomach on a large, soft bed in the belly of a rocking ship. His entire back ached, but the pain was by far the worst on his left upper back. He tried to get out of bed, but twisting his body only made it much worse.

            “I wouldn’t try that” Persephone brought in some food. “your left shoulder sustained some nasty burns.” “We definitely need to keep you in bed for at least a few days.”

            “Who are you? Also, where am I?”

            “Oh, yeah, that. Well, we couldn’t exactly just leave you in a town with no doctors with that kind of burn. But we really needed to get going. So, we brought you on board.” “I’m Persephone by the way.”

            “Do you know where Phoenix went?”

            “She’s here too. But I wouldn’t try anything.”

            “She’s here!? Why would you let me travel with her?” Orwen was ecstatic, though confused, maybe he hadn’t failed after all.

            “The other option was to essentially leave you for dead. No one wanted that.”

            Kinda stupid, I would have left her for dead in a heartbeat. But I probably need to pretend to play along for now.

            “All right, I assume I’m at least locked in this room though?”

            “And your daggers are locked up in a closet on the other side of the ship, yeah, we weren’t gonna take that chance.”

            Persephone left, and Orwen started eating his food, he’d be coming up with some sort of plan to complete the mission, but for now, he needed to sleep, his back was killing him.

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            Hywel finished climbing the hill. Core was a long way away, so he’d need to pace himself. He’d made good progress; he’d walked nearly 40 miles over the last couple of days. Though, at some point he would have to find a way to increase the pace, he’d probably need to get a ship, he had a sense that what he’d seen would happen in a matter of months, and he needed to travel a lot.

            As he knelt beside the pond, he scooped up some water to drink, he hadn’t had a sip in weeks, he didn’t need it. And he looked at his reflection.

            It was, better, or at least, less bad. The color was starting to return to parts of his face, and the bags under his eyes had shrunk significantly, he’d slept for the first time in a while. His increased height had not diminished, he still stood almost seven feet tall, compared to his natural 5 foot 4, but he looked significantly less emaciated.

            What has happened to me? Is it really newfound purpose, or am I just getting used to being a monster?

            Dere remained silent, he suspected he was being given a form of cold shoulder for his choice.

            He was still drenched in blood, so he used this opportunity to bathe. His clothes were mostly ruined, and none of them fit well anymore.

            I need to get new ones; I’ll need to be some manner of presentable if I expect to be able to get a ride to Core.

            His hair had grown ragged, it was long, but it had been falling out in tufts. He was surprised to see that he still he still had his dagger. He cut as much of the hair off as he could, better bald than patchy. He left his beard.

            Wait, that’s odd, I couldn’t grow one before.

            Sometimes that happens. Dere spoke up for the first time in a while. If your hair comes back, it might come back curly too. Possession does weird things to human bodies.

            Oh, I hear you’re speaking up again.

            Just here to remind you that if you are doing hygiene, you should trim your nails, they look like claws.

            Indeed, they did.

            You deciding to be helpful all of a sudden?

            Maybe if we get you back in civilized society, I can convince you not to kill yourself.

            Not a chance. Hywel smiled as he scrubbed the blood from beneath his fingernails, the first time in at least two months that he had smiled. But I appreciate the sentiment.

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Chapter 11: A long trip

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            Phoenix sat on the deck, this area of the sky was calm, which meant slow going, but also not a lot to do as a navigator, so she was sharpening her knife.

            “It’s a beautiful thing, glad to see you’re keeping it in good shape.” Flynn sat down beside her.

            “It’s broken, it used to be able to fold, it also used to have a wooden handle.” Repetitive heat had fused the tang and the blade together, she’d had to weld additional metal onto it several times to keep it usable, the handle had now been shaped to almost exactly fit her hand.

            “Put another way, it’s been shaped into exactly the right shape for its use.” “Weapons designed for magic have to be unique, that’s what makes them beautiful.”

            “Every time I use it in battle, I have fix it up again, otherwise the blade warps.”

            Flynn nodded “yeah, it’s a lot of work to hone after every fight, but what you get in return is a perfectly natural tool. I’ve seen how you fight; you use that knife like an animal uses claws, I would know.” He balled his hands up into fists.

            “How does it feel?” Phoenix asked.

            “Being a Werebear?”

            “Yeah, that”

            “It’s not bad. It’s never been the being so much as the being seen as that’s the problem.” “When I actually transform, all I feel is the power of it, like I can do anything I want to.” “That’s kind of the worst part too, is coming out of it, and not feeling that anymore.”

            “Feeling like you can’t actually change anything that matters.”

            “Yeah, that”

            “And then comes the fear, that you’ll be trapped, and something bad will happen to you.”

            “I don’t know about that; I’ve been living on borrowed time for a while. It’s more so feeling that I’m trapping her.”

            “Persephone?”

            “Yeah, she cares a lot, and she’s determined that I have to survive.”

            “You won’t die though.”

            “Not from ursanthropy directly, no, but my father, as much as he pretends. Well, we think he’s the one sending people after us. We talk a big game, but we barely survived the last attack, I don’t think we, I, make it all the way to Core.”

            “He would do that?” Phoenix was astounded.

            “He was willing to when we were back in Levias, said he ‘couldn’t allow exceptions to the rule of law’, even for his own son.” “I think he’s always seen me as less than my brothers, might have just been looking for an excuse.”

            “I can’t even imagine that.”

            Flynn smiled, trying to cut the gloominess of the conversation “don’t feel too bad, at least I got to grow up as a prince.”

            “I mean, that doesn’t make any of that less tragic…”

            “I don’t care that much, I’ve just kinda dealt with it.”

            “That doesn’t work.”

            Flynn raised an eyebrow.

            “Running from your feelings I mean.” “Believe me, I’ve tried.”

            “I wouldn’t call it that… I’ve just got, thick skin, that’s it.” “It doesn’t get to me.”

            “Must be nice.”

            “You’ve been running though?”

            “Until it catches up with me.”

            “And then you fight like a cornered animal.”

            “That’s one way to say it.”

            “Like, not trying to kill it, just make it go away.”

            “I don’t like killing.”

            Flynn nodded. “Does anyone really like it?”

            “The last time I killed I broke my dagger.”

            “That must be a good story.”

            Phoenix looked at him seriously, “it was a bear, it almost killed me, gave me this” she pulled her sleeve up to reveal a nasty bite mark on her shoulder “but I killed it. I don’t like killing, so I haven’t killed since, I just run, and when I’m cornered.” “Well, if you don’t want to kill, you have to learn to inflict pain instead.”

            “A lot of it.”

            “Yeah, that.”

______________________________________________________________

            Orwen lay in bed. The room had no windows, which, on a boat this fancy looking, probably meant it was toward the bottom. The walls were likely to sturdy to have a hope of breaking through, and there was no access to the door lock from this side, so picking wasn’t going to be an option. The only way he would be able to break out would be to jump Persephone when he brought him his food. If he did that, he could probably escape, assuming they didn’t have someone watching for him immediately outside the door.

            His wound had healed considerably since he had come aboard the ship, but he strictly speaking still needed more rest. This, combined with his reluctance to assault Persephone, she seemed like such a nice person, led him to conclude that his best chance for completing the mission lay in a more, diplomatic approach. Gain their trust, lead them as close to Hunter headquarters as possible, and then bring Phoenix in at the last possible minute. He probably also wanted to save as much Speed and Perfection as possible. That meant sleep and food, easy enough, whoever was cooking the food was an amazing chef.

            “I hope you’re hungry” Persephone walked in, talking in the sweet, almost sing-song tone she usually used with him, “we’ve got something delicious today, Phoenix made Borscht, I hear it’s a family recipe.”

            “Does Phoenix normally cook? I’ve been wondering who it was.”

            “Ever since we found out she’s absolutely amazing at it, we’ve refused to even touch a pot.”

            After he tasted the soup, wonderfully meaty, he said “probably the right call.”

            “From what I can tell, she just appreciates having this full of a set of ingredients.” “How’s your shoulder?”

            “Much better, thank you. It’s been feeling better every day.”

            “Well,” she turned to leave “let me know if you need anything else.”

            “Hey, Persephone”

            “Yes?”

            “Seriously, thanks for doing this for me, most people I know wouldn’t.”

            She walked away smiling. Exactly what Orwen needed.

______________________________________________________________

            Hywel ran now. He had avoided crossing the war line before, but he could no longer. But the borders were closed, so there wasn’t an easy way to get across. And what was more troubling was that he had alerted seekers to his location. They had been tracking him down, whatever remnant of the Seekers was left apparently had capturing him as their first priority.

            So, he was running, both from half a dozen trained Seekers and a large contingent of soldiers, who had at least a few boats. Thankfully, the wind was low today, so the boats couldn’t outrun his enhanced speed. He would have been captured ages ago if not for a confluence of lucky factors. He would almost definitely be captured soon, he knew where he was, and he had studied this area, Seekers were required to know the general layout of all the land around the war line. This road was old and would run out in less than a mile.

            He didn’t want to have to fight them. They didn’t stand a chance, with Dere’s help he could probably have plowed through the entire alliance army, but he wouldn’t be able to avoid killing them, enough people had died needlessly because of him already.

            So, he’d have to figure out a way to escape.

            There’s the end of the road. Nothing within a thousand feet.

            Two thousand feet out, there’s a rock, with a running start I can get you most of the way, and then shoot an arrow.

            If I’m even a little short though…

            You could always turn around and fight!

            No.

            He stopped about a dozen feet short of the edge, turned around and surveyed the oncoming army, and then he looked over the edge, nothing. If he fell, he would be falling forever.

            I wouldn’t take that risk if I were you, you have choices here. Instead of throwing yourself over the possible suicide gap, you could stand and fight or let yourself get captured and break out later.

            Hywel took a deep breath. No, if I want to believe I can be redeemed, there is no choice.

            He backed up and took a running start. With Dere’s power, he launched himself across 100 feet, 500 feet, 1000, 1500, he just had to shoot this arrow 250 feet, not the easiest, but he could do it.

            He knocked the arrow, drew, and shot. It raced toward that solitary rock…

            And missed.

______________________________________________________________

Chapter 12: Impossibilities

______________________________________________________________

            The wind had picked up, it was howlingly fast, the middle ring was known for wild changes in weather, but this was stronger than Phoenix had seen in a long time.

            “If this keeps up, we’ll be in Dorsinli this afternoon.” She had to shout to be heard over the wind.

            “Really? It feels like we just left Nerestar.” Flynn shouted back. It had taken three weeks to get from Ser to Nerestar, but only four days to get to where they were. “We’re making good time!”

            “Remember that the distance from the middle ring to the inner ring is longer, and from the inner ring to Core, that’s going the feel interminable.”

            “That’s not what the map shows.”

            “I forget that you haven’t been farther in than the capital of Levias.” “Let me finish tying this up then I’ll come down and explain it.” The sail needed to be secured better, she finished tying the knot and then quickly climbed down the netting.

            “Ok, so this is weird for people who were born on the Outer Ring, like us, but I forget that they don’t teach it in Levias, given that it only has territory in the Outer Ring.” “As you get closer to the middle of the map, it gets less accurate.”

            “Couldn’t they just draw the map better.”

            “No, see, there is no actual middle of the Sky. The radius is infinite.”

            “How does that work?”

            “No one really knows, but if you walk towards where the middle would be, you just find more sky. So, as you get closer to the middle, the map can’t be drawn right, because the circumferences of concentric circles still decrease.”

            “That’s not geometrically possible” Flynn looked at Phoenix with a side eye.

            “Thus, why the map doesn’t show it. But anyway, what it means is that each ring is significantly smaller around than the outer ones but the chords across them are increasingly long with respect to their circumferences.”

            “Wait, wouldn’t that mean that they get to the point where its quicker to go around the circle than across it.” Flynn looked fully confused.

            “Indeed, it depends on how far in the middle ring, but in the inner ring, every two points can be reached in less distance by a circular path than a straight one through the inside.”

            “Hey Persephone, have you heard this before?” She’d just gotten back from taking Orwen his food.

            “What is it?”

            “I was just explaining hyperbolic space to Flynn here.”

            Persephone’s face scrunched up in disgust. “I’m so glad I don’t have to navigate anymore.”

            “Yeah, it only gets worse as you get further in, but it’s that or stay here with the bad weather.” Phoenix had learned the hard way, navigating by yourself out of even the middle ring was insanity.

            “Hey Phoenix, Orwen wanted to say something to you.” “I told him you probably wouldn’t come.”

            “Can I have Flynn outside the door?”

            “Sure, I’ll stand guard.”

            “Then there’s not much to worry about.”

______________________________________________________________

            Orwen was surprised to see Phoenix come in.

            “You came?”

            “Yeah, there’s not much reason not to. I don’t have a lot else to do today.”

            “I just wanted to say”

            “You’ll say you’re sorry, I honestly don’t believe you. And it’s ok by the way. For you to hate me. I’d rather be on a ship with a thousand people who hate me openly than one who pretends to like me.”

            Orwen opened his mouth to speak, but Phoenix raised a hand. “And don’t say it was only professional, we both know that’s not true; no one runs themselves that ragged for a job.”

            I do sometimes Orwen thought probably too often, but there was no point in trying to convince Phoenix that he was, merely, following orders. “You’re right, it was personal.” “Still is. You have to know I still want to take you in.”

            “Yeah, I figured that.”

            “So, why’d you agree to travel with me.”

            “It’s my principal flaw. I get too attached to people, I can’t leave.” She shrugged “They betray me, or they leave.” She said it in a nonchalant tone. “That’s why I have so many of these.”

            “You know I could kill you right now if I wanted.”

            “Oh, believe me, I know. But I’m not stupid, I wouldn’t have come if I thought there were a chance of that.” “You have to take me in alive.”

            He did indeed.

            “Not that alive.”

            Phoenix chuckled at that one. “Hey, can you walk yet? I wanna show around the ship.”

            “Now why would you do such a thing? I just threatened to kill you.”

            “Oh, you’re so serious about the whole assassin thing. Its gonna grind your gears so hard to know you can’t bring me in yet.”

            That much was true, it frustrated him to no end, but he wanted a distraction, and this sort of played into his plan. Though, what Phoenix had said about people betraying her got to him a bit. Just a bit. “Yeah, I can walk, let’s see it.”

______________________________________________________________

            Hywel was only falling for a minute, but it felt like an eternity, by the time he realized that the first arrow had missed, he had no time to shoot another.

            Well, this is how it ends, I guess. At least I’m taking you down with me.

            He must have been almost a mile below the island when he felt a firm grip on the back of his shirt.

            “Well, thank goodness, you’re a lot lighter than you look.”

            He looked up, astonished to see a woman with two giant feathered wings sprouting from her back. She could only be described as radiant, quite literally seeming to glow, as if something within her could not be contained, and was struggling to be free.

            She managed to drag him all the way up to the rock he had been aiming for. They could see the soldiers gathering at the end of the path.

            “Ah, don’t worry about them, we’re almost past the border already, they won’t chase us any farther.” “I’m Karol by the way.”

            “Hywel” “How, how did you find me?”

            “If you didn’t notice, everyone on this side of the Sky has been following you for almost a month. I’ve been tailing you for a while, to make sure you don’t do anything stupid, like taking a plunge into the Void.”      “Hey, I’d love to chat later, but we need to get going, they won’t follow us across the border, but we have about 1000 feet left.”

            They traveled a pretty good distance, the rocks were close enough now that Hywel could jump between them.

            “Sorry if this is offensive” Hywel started talking almost as soon as they had stopped “but what’s with the wings?”

            “A recent thing, possession works weirdly.”

            “Wait, you have a demon too?”

            She raised an eyebrow “you don’t know much about how this stuff, do you?”

            “Not a demon, then?”

            She shook her head “no, demons are spirits of emptiness. Mine is a devil, a spirit of fullness, of bursting and limitless possibility.”

            You’ve been awfully silent about this whole affair Dere.

            Demons and Devils don’t mix. We kill each other.

            “That seems infinitely preferable to mine.”

            “Oh, it is, I wouldn’t have hunted down a demon.”

            “You mean, you actually wanted to be possessed?”

            “It’s a marvelous power, I wanted to be strong, so I could help people, I failed before.” “I think you’re the same, we both want to cleanse the world of its evil. That’s why I followed you.”

______________________________________________________________

@brokendarkfairyempressforever

@hijabi-flavored-nerd

I fixed a few things. Its almost 13 thousand words now, by far the longest thing I've ever written, and getting close to the halfway point plot-wise, which means that technically this will probably end up at Novella length (Its already 30 pages in the Word document I'm writing in).

Actually, I'm gonna tag some of my other mutuals as well, I won't tag you again though unless you want to...

@queenpiranhadon

@nervousscissorsgoopthing

@betanian117

@justalunaticfangirl

@shrxe

[whiskeyswifty]

.

[the-trans-dragon]

Hehehe >:3 got a kissie and some headpats from a pretty girl >:3 muahahahahahaha >:3

[princessmyriad]

.

[cherubharrington]

Part one

Rafe had been calling you extensively. To the point, where you had to have do not disturb on. You didn’t have it in you yet to block him. You forgot he also knew where you lived.

“You know we could have done this the easy way. Now we’re going to have to do the hard way.” He said, once you opened the door. You didn’t even have time to run, he had grabbed you forcefully. You screamed.

“Shhh, baby shh.”

You knew he had erratic behavior. He just hadn’t ever displayed it before to you.

“Rafe! Rafe! Put me down!”

“Rafe, dude. Come on, is this really necessary?”Topper says, watching his friend manhandle you.

“Shut the fuck up, Top!” Rafe says. “Help me get her in the car.”

“No! Get off!” You scream, you’re scratching at his arms and he winces in pain.

“Ow! Stop that!”

You manage to pull away from his strong hold.

“Enough Rafe, you can’t force me to go anywhere with you. This counts as kidnapping, ya know!”

He tries to grab you again but Topper gets inbetween.

“Do you really want to get in my way, Topper?” Rafe says, his eyes are on you though.

“Dude, this is not the way. You told me we came here so you could talk to her. Not force her to go somewhere against her will.”

Rafe begins to cry as he sees you flinch back. He doesn’t even care that Topper can see.

“Let her go, dude.” Topper says gently. You never would have guessed, Topper to be the voice of reason. But here he was.

“No! Fuck you, Topper. Please baby, please! I promise. I promise I’ll get clean. I haven’t even touched coke in weeks. Tell her Top. Tell her!”

You can tell he’s lying through his teeth. His jaw is swinging. And he keeps wiping away at his nose. His eyes are red from the tears.

“Baby, please.”

“I’m not your baby anymore.” You finally say.

“No.” He cries. “No don’t say shit like that. You’re breaking my heart baby. I fucked up, I know that. But you don’t have to punish me for it. Please. The coke will go away. The parties. I’ll change my lifestyle. I’ll be different.” He pauses. “I’ll be a different Rafe. Clean Rafe. Good Rafe. Country club Rafe. No drugs. No alcohol.”

He’s hitting his head with his hand as he says each word. A part of you aches to go to him to make him stop.

But you can tell he’s bluffing. You know he’ll do it sneakily.

“Rafe, you don’t know how to. That is your life. Until you’re serious—.” You try to speak but he cuts you off abruptly.

“I am serious! Tell her Topper. Fucking tell her! I stopped it all.”

You begin to cry, scared of the boy you’re looking at. Scared of whose he’s become. This wasn’t your Rafe.

“Come on, man. You’re scaring her. Let’s just go, okay—“

“Shut up Topper! Why can’t you shut up! You’re not helping me!”

He finally manages to get around Topper. His arms are around you again, he hiccups from the tears he’s crying.

“Princess, please. I’ll do anything. I’ll get on my knees. Please, don’t leave me. I love you. I love you.”

Kelce shows up out of nowhere. You don’t even realized he’s pulled up.

“That’s enough Rafe. Come on man. Let her be.” Both boys grab Rafe, freeing you from his grip.

“No! Please, no! I need her! I fucking need her.”

Grim faces are present on both boys faces.

“We know man. Just come on.”

Once they get him away, you crumble to the ground. Sobs breaking out of you.

“Hey! Is everything okay? We heard screaming.” Your old elderly neighbor asks. She’s a sweet old lady, who gardens when she can. You’ve helped her out a few times.

“Why don’t you come in. I’ve made some pie. I think you’ll like it.”

You manage to get up and follow her in. She gives you a sad smile.

“I’m sorry for the screaming.” You say meekly.

“Don’t ever apologize for another persons actions. Especially not a boy who doesn’t know when no means no. You’re so much stronger than that. I know it. I’ve known you since you were four. You’ve always been a fierce girl. Don’t ever let anyone take that away from you.” Her hand is on your shoulder. Gentle. Unlike Rafes iron clad grip. You almost burst out crying again.

“Come on, let’s enjoy some pie.”

[savanir]

DP x DC prompt [3]

during one of the final psych evals at Arkham right before he gets to be released, the whole thing wrapped up so tidy, just a little relapse which involved a robbery. Getting sent back to Arkham, but he got to stay at the asylum so long that he no longer has to serve a prison sentence, score!

But during that eval his overseeing psychiatrist recommended him to have a change of scenery, some fresh non polluted air.

Riddler was rather convinced the guy was making this recommendation to everyone in Arkham in their own weird way to convince them to just leave Gotham and become someone else's problem. should he notify Batman about it somehow? nah, it’ll be more interesting to see how this is gonna turn out in the long run.

But can he leave the state? Can he even leave the city? he never really bothered to look into it, at least not legally, up until now if he felt he needed to leave for one of his plans he just did it.

Turns out he can, it’s a whole hassle and a half though, first a judge and then a probation officer and he’s pretty sure both were like “what the hell is this psychiatrist guy thinking!?” but at the same time, shrink probably knows what he’s doing (WRONG) so he’s allowed to go visit out of state family or whatever.

he had to wear this nice ankle monitor though, Wayne Enterprises™ tech, not overly bulky but still very present. real fancy, and a fun extra challenge heh.

now as for a good reason to leave New Jersey he’s going to need distant relatives, and he finds some, great grandpa walker also has a son, who had a son who had a daughter Madeline, who married some guy Jack Fenton, and she lives somewhere out in the boonies Illinois. great he’ll visit her.

far enough away in all sense of the word that there is no way she knows anything about him. it would be best to call her first though, be polite about it.

“hello, you have reached Fenton works, this is Maddie speaking” 

“Riddle me this-” ah whoops, habit, oh whatever, “we don’t share parents, but certainly a part of your life, from laughter to strife. Who am I?”

there is a pause …  he’s going to be a bit disappointed if she hangs up if he’s honest.

“cousins~” comes the cheery reply.

“correct! the name is Edward Nygma, we are distantly related you and I and well-”

“oh you simply must come visit!” 

well this was rather easy, perhaps a little too easy, but she lives in the midwest so maybe just going with whatever some guy says over the phone is normal there? stranger danger not really a thing in a small town where everyone knows everyone?

things start to make a little more sense once he gets there and he’s starting to think some things might run in the family. like a preference for the colour green and weird hyperfixations and genius bordering on insanity. Though that remains to be seen, Jack does not seem like a very bright light after his very enthusiastic welcome.

their kids however are observant and sharp. young Jasmine is wasting no time trying to psychoanalyze him. and the boy, Danny, he had not really meant to and he swears he’s sticking with calling the kid Danny so he wouldn’t seem overly familiar, but he might have called him little bird a couple times now.

but that’s all whatever, he’s playing nice here. and he doesn’t even have to worry about his eccentricities tripping him up because this place is insane.

There actually is a local teen vigilante active but he seems about as loved as he’s disliked. and the ghost boy’s enemies are basically all his own kind, which another crazy thing to now know about. ghost. they are real actually, how is Gotham not completely overrun? and how do they even work? and where do they keep coming from?

Edward might be getting a little sidetracked here. He had fully intended to sneakily get his next big game plan underway all the way out here, ankle monitor be damned. but he hasn’t made any progress at all.

Instead he’s been listening to Madeline and Jack to maybe figure out what the deal is with these ectoplasmic entities, he has to know, at this point he might go crazier if he doesn’t. 

He’s making Jasmine promise him not to get her doctorate in Gotham, he’s going back and forth with space riddles with Danny.

so yeah the whole thing kinda just became a vacation, maybe the psychiatrist had the right idea after all? hmm nah, probably not. but this is fun. He’s thinking about recommending this place to some of the others.

It's different enough to get the vacation feel, but enough crazy shit happens to make it all feel like home.

it is not until Maddie wants to talk with him about potentially switching the position of godfather of Danny to him rather than some weird rich friend of theirs that Edward realizes he might have lost the plot somewhere

Apparently the little bird basically begged them with a powerpoint presentation on how he likes Edward so much more than that Vladimir guy. 

And honestly, the fellow sounds like a Dracula Lutho so even if it’s kinda sad Edward can understand why he’d be considered a better option. Even if the guy has more money and a huge company that makes him said money. And it’s not like the Fentons know about his Riddler activities.

Thinking it over, Edward does think that Danny would like Gotham and Wayne has that space program thing right? The kid is definitely smart enough for that (Nygma certified), and yeah Edward does quite like their space themed back and forth. So, fuck it, why not, what is the worst that could happen?

He doubts Maddie and Jack are gonna kick it any time soon anyway out here in the boonies, it’s just a title thing, a stamp of approval or something.

he should have known he was going to eat those words later… he had this whole beautifully elaborate trap set up for the whole Batclan, and he was just getting to the good part when his phone went off.

Had to put the whole thing on pause cause that particular contact wasn’t gonna get ignored. He did promise to be available.

If the whole thing he had planned now went tits up he could at the very least laugh later at the reactions of the bats as he told them to “hold up one second, I have to take this.” while they were all in various perilous positions. 

Sadly he did have to go, he had a very distressed godson to pick up.

[inkskinned]

so while i was writing the book, i became violently suicidal.

this was mostly due to the fact that i had a very bad reaction to some meds and my brain stopped producing any serotonin. also i was in the last semester of grad school where it's actually illegal to feel anything but dread. so it wasn't going well.

somewhere in the fog of it i became aware i needed help. nobody was taking clients or my insurance. i didn't want to do inpatient care - it wasn't right for my needs. there's not really an "in between" stage between "inpatient" and "no care," but i was trying to do the right thing. i was trying to activate the chain of command that was my emergency plan. i knew i needed help now.

i used betterhelp.

i know, i know. i'm a straight-A student and so smart and so clever, how could i ever use something so blatantly bad. to be honest with you, i didn't feel particularly keen on it from the getgo - things that seem too good to be true usually are. also, if something online is free, the price is usually your privacy.

the thing is that there was kind of a global pandemic happening at the time and i worked 5 jobs alongside of being a fulltime student and also like writing a book on the side. it is a miracle that i even thought about getting help. i would love to tell you i had the mental wherewithal to like, process whether this was the right choice for me. mostly i was desperate. i was so suicidal that i was trying to find a reason to stay inside of fortune cookies. i was the kind of suicidal that looks like splatterpaint. i hadn't been that bad in an entire decade.

they took my data. i gave them it freely. somewhere out there, they have a dossier on me. on everything i survived. my story in little datapoints, scattergraphed beautifully.

the first woman told me that really i should be grateful, because (and this is a direct quote): "at least you're not anne frank." i said that i felt that statement was antisemitic, as anne frank's life and experience shouldn't be compared to like, a nonbinary lesbian in western massachusetts. the therapist said that i should try to use lucid dreaming to try to picture myself in an actually scary situation, like running from nazis.

i applied for another therapist. i was willing to accept the possibility that there was a bad apple in the bunch. the next therapist and i even laughed about how inappropriate that statement was. and then, in our next session: the new therapist said if i was struggling with body image issues, i should just work harder on my appearance. she spent 3 sessions in a row talking about how she was grieving, and made me memorize facts about her grandmother so "she can live on through my clients."

i am a three's-a-charm kind of person. okay, so what if the last person made me uncomfortable. i figured it was just a misunderstanding of priorities - she had felt she was sharing with me, i had felt like i had to take care of her. i applied for another therapist.

the last woman asked me to help her pray. she bowed her head. i stared at her, frozen, while she said: lord, i beg you: cure her. take the pain of being gay away from her.

i spent somewhere between 2.5 and 3 months on betterhelp. in that whole time, i was not getting the professional help i so desperately needed, even though i was fucking trying.

in the end, i survived this because i finally could get off the meds that were literally killing me. a request for a real therapist finally went through. i survived because my friends saved my life. because nick let me sob myself dry in his arms. because maddie took the razors out of my room when i asked them to. because grace slept over in my bed for like 3 weeks in a row since nobody trusted me not to hurt myself when i was alone. i survived because i got fucking lucky. because even when i was desperately suicidal, i was too old and too self-aware to take "you need to be prettier" as good advice.

the thing is that there's a 19 year old me who isn't like that. who would have heard "just think about how grateful you should be" and said - oh, i see. i would have assumed that is what it means to be in therapy: the same thing my abusers used to tell me. that i am just pretending and lazy. that i am ugly and unworthy.

betterhelp positioned itself to take advantage of an incredibly vulnerable community. it preys on desperation. it knows it is serving people who are not doing well mentally. it saw that there is a huge need for real, immediate, compassionate mental health care: and then it fucking takes your money and privacy.

i still get their ads on instagram. last night i watched as a woman in a pool pretends to talk to a different woman. they discuss her anxiety.

there's a 19 year old version of me, and she didn't survive this. she was too tired, and drowning. i almost fucking died. this thing almost fucking killed me.

in the ad, the woman playing the therapist takes a note on a clipboard and then nods once, sagely.

i have to admit it's a pretty scene. the steam and light coming off the pool water lands on the actresses. like this, it almost looks baptismal, holy.

[thevillainswhore]

A Forbidden Invitation

Pairing: Best Friend’s Dad!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Word Count: 11.5k

Summary: You think a one night stand from the summer, the best fuck of your life, is a done deal — a single, heated encounter that now lives vividly in your memories. But you learn that your actions have consequences when you befriend a new student, starting in the new term, and she invites you over to meet her Dad.

Warnings: Age gap, flashback, betrayal of friendship, manipulation, coercion, reader has severe daddy issues and self esteem problems, derogatory names, daddy kink, praise kink, smut, kissing, nipple play, blowjob, throat fucking, choking, fingering, pussy slapping, p in v sex, squirting.

Author’s Note: Unbeta’d, warning graphics and dividers by @rookthorne

“Come on, babe!” Rebecca whined at the edge of your bed. “You’re telling me a weekend away from this shithole doesn’t sound good?” 

It had been a whole hour of your friend begging you to come back home with her for your midterm break and while you usually had the patience of a saint, it was difficult to keep composed as she refused to back down to your unacceptable reasoning.

You sighed, finally closing your laptop with an inwards huff and coming to terms that you would not be getting any more work done. Blowing out a breath, you leveled your gaze onto her. 

“Becs,” you treaded carefully, mindful of her feelings. “It’s very sweet of you. But, I really need to get my work finished.” Rebecca’s face fell sullen and you rushed to explain. “I just like my time alone, y'know? I concentrate better.”

Her brunette hair fell over her eyes as she bowed her head. This girl really knew how to put on a show and you playfully rolled your eyes at her dramatics. But as she lifted her head with a pout and her wide, shining ocean blues, you knew you were done for. 

Oh no. The puppy eyes.

“Hey!” You pointed at her. “No—stop that! I’m not changing my mind.” 

The intensity of her stare only worsened while she slowly gained on you. “But what am I gonna tell my Dad when he asks when you’re not there?” 

“Wait.” Clarity hit you then and you held your hand up to stop your friend in her tracks. With a glare you questioned, “Did you already say I was coming?” 

The guilty twitch of her eye said it all. “Maybe—“

“Becca!” 

“I couldn’t help it!” she swore. “My dad invited you, I couldn’t tell him no.” 

“He invited me?” you asked, surprised. 

“Yeah. The day we met, he called to see how I was doing—asked if I had made any new friends.” 

She shrugged. “We’ve moved around a lot ever since I can remember and trying to fit in somewhere…” Her voice suddenly grew quiet as she solemnly whispered, “I’ve never had a real friend before. You’re the only one who’s been able to stick around for so long and he really wants to meet you.”

The frustration embedded in you faded out to make way for the sudden ache in your heart. To your knowledge, Rebecca was a new student who transitioned to your college in the middle of the recent school year. Both of you had a couple of classes together and the first time you ever saw her still reigned fresh in your mind. 

The doors to the auditorium crashed open as she stumbled in late and out of breath to her first class. Strands of her brown hair fell from the messy bun on the top of her head and her cheeks coloured bright red; it pained you to watch her embarrassment as a room of over a hundred stared at her, along with the professor. And so began your friendship when you rushed out of your seat to help her with her huge stack of books, ushering her to the back to sit next to you. 

Since then the two of you had been inseparable. Rebecca was a genuine, lovely girl — sweet and a breath of fresh air to your college life. She never failed to let you know how appreciative she was to your kindness of friendship, so even though you had only known her for a short while, it felt as though she was a true friend; one who would be staying around for a while.

Sighing in defeat, there was no way you could decline the offer after hearing she had been gushing over you to her Dad. “Okay, okay—Fine. I’ll come— AH!”

You squealed as she leapt onto you, knocking you back against your mattress as she profusely thanked you while vibrating with joy. The giggles and uncontrolled laughter that filled your room masked the unexplainable dread knotted in your stomach. But not wanting to tarnish Rebecca’s excitement, you let go of your worries for the time being. 

Going to the club alone wasn’t an activity you made a habit out of; you understood the dangers of your vulnerability to men who couldn’t take a hint. 

However, that summer night — a hazy memory now in the present — forbade common sense and instead, threw it out of the window. Not to be seen again until you woke up the next day. 

The stress of the week had gotten too much for you; too many assignments needing to be handed in at once, your parents bombarding you with passive aggressive texts about their ongoing disappointment with you and the cherry on top of it all, you had caught your boyfriend cheating on you with the girl he had sworn you had nothing to worry about. 

So of course, that week in particular had tested you. But instead of moping around your dorm room, your mind unhelpfully persisted with the motion to get shitfaced drunk and allow future you to worry about your problems. In the moment, you thought that to be your most genius idea of the week — letting your hair down in a sweaty nightclub around people you didn’t know and not caring about the consequences sounded perfect. 

In hindsight, it was probably one of your most beautiful mistakes. 

You remembered it all clearly. The newfound freedom of not giving a fuck, the humid air with the bass of the speakers invading your ears — every small detail added to the atmosphere as you were in your own world in the middle of the dancefloor, erotically swaying your hips side to side and running your hands through your hair. 

The short cocktail dress you had worn to make yourself feel good illuminated your curves while also giving you the liberty to dance without limit to your movement. You wanted to forget for a while — go crazy and let loose. 

Which was why the stunning pair of cerulean eyes that pinned you down across the room from the bar was your ticket to a night of fun — everything you needed at the moment in time. From your vantage point, the stranger looked to be in his forties, but in the best way possible. His form was built, the right amount of muscle carrying his frame and his grown out brown locks tucked behind his ears. No one had ever looked more sexy to you. 

Aware of being the center of attention to an attractive stranger, you smoothed your hands down from your hair, seductively over your neck, teasing your glowing skin and finally to your chest. You bit your lip when his hungry stare that soaked your lace underwear focused on your tits, overspilling from your dress and you watched, smug and exhilarated as the unknown man tightened his fist against his tight trouser cladded thighs. 

Through the whole night, the delightful burn of his stare never left you. A brand was marked into your skin; a warning to everyone else that you were spoken for — only for the night at least. 

If you ordered a drink at the bar, the stranger was a couple of seats down from you, greedily lapping up your figure. If you were sitting in the smokers area, catching your breath and cooling down, he was there too, leaning against the brick wall smoking a cigarette with his attention solely focused on you, no matter the amount of women who were not so discreetly throwing themselves over him. 

Even at the end of the night, as you once again danced to the deep bass of the beat among everyone else, he watched you from his own corner, still as enamored with you as the first time your eyes met. 

Adrenaline spiked your veins. It was addicting to be the object of someone’s desires, to be seen. 

You had only spoken through heated looks and loaded glances, but he was unlike any man you had encountered before. Mysterious and cryptic. You were just as lost in him as he was into you and you couldn’t have cared less that he was obviously older than you. It was what you needed. He was what you needed. 

The buzz from the few shots you had taken reached their peak and you decided it was now or never to claim what you so rightfully deserved. 

With a bounce in your step, you strutted in your heels through the crowd of people, never taking your eyes off your prize and him neither. He licked his lips as you closed the distance, stopping just before you bumped into the tip of his shoes. 

“Listen,” you spoke over the music, determined and resolute. “I’m gonna skip past the pleasantries and bullshit.” The allured stranger raised his eyebrow, intrigued. “You want me and I definitely want you. So, do you want to get out of here?” 

Your bravery faltered slightly as you realised in his close proximity how direct you had been. While you were almost certain this stranger was as attracted to you as you were to him, the tiny seed of doubt that a mature man wouldn’t want to hook up with someone as young as you revoked your liquid courage. 

But that worry soon disappeared when he gave you a fierce once over now you were up close. A raging storm of lust and desire clouded his beautiful eyes, wild and desperate to get his hands on you. Your breaths came in quick and heavy as he smirked so sinfully. The bastard knew he held so much power in the palm of his hands when his body towered over yours, the difference in size between you not hard to miss. There you could tell the fun had already begun. 

The rest of the club became a blur as he brought his mouth down to your ear. You felt each slow and steady breath against the curve of your neck and you were sure even in the darkness, he noticed the  goosebumps that littered your skin. “All I need you to know tonight is my name.” His voice was as sexy as you had imagined, a deep, rasped husk that made your legs weak. But it was his next words that almost made you collapse. “Because it’s the only thing you’re gonna be screamin’ for the rest of the night, darlin’.” 

Your mind grew foggy at the next sequence of events. The hustle of getting into a car and fiercely making out in the backseat until you arrived at an upscale hotel. Everything happened so fast. One minute you were waiting impatiently at the reception desk and the next you were stumbling into a lavish hotel room, unable to keep your hands off each other as items of clothing flew across the room in your haste to get naked. 

The two of you bumped into the array of furniture in the hallway, the thought of tearing away from each other's lips unbearable. Bucky, you learned was his name, was an amazing kisser, his tongue gently teased yours as he threaded his fingers through your hair and he kept a firm grip of your cheeks like he was desperate to keep you close. 

“Fuck,” he slurred between kisses. “You’re so— fuckin’— gorgeous.” His eagerness to keep his lips against yours while complimenting you spun you for a loop, unfamiliar to this kind of intensity.  

The clink of dog tags were the culprit to halt your motions while he kept on kissing you, traveling down the slope of your neck and to your shoulders to bite your skin. As he was occupied, you took your chance to admire his physique. For a man his age, he was jacked — a toned stomach with several abs sharp enough to cut and two deliciously slender grooves running underneath his trousers to a bulge big enough for you to let an unhinged moan escape. 

His body was sickening, he truly had no business to look as good as he did for a man his age. But like hell were you going to complain when all the boys at college disappointed you time and time again. The bar was low and this man had already exceeded your expectations, he was only supposed to be an idea fit for your wildest fantasies. Yet, there he was, real and existing. 

Time was of the essence and you wasted none of it as you ripped yourself out of his hold, left in only your underwear, and dropped to your knees without pause to hurriedly remove his belt. 

“Oh, shit.” He gulped. “Baby— baby—you don’t have to do that—“ 

You hushed his assurances and batted away his hands that tried to pull you up without real effort. “No, I don’t have to. But I want to.” Fluttering your eyes, you looked up at him and slyly smirked. “Let me suck your cock. You just worry about having a good time.” With a wink, you unlooped the expensive leather through the buckle and dropped it to the floor, soon after working to unzip his fly and rid him of the offending trousers that stood in your way. 

The material slid down his thick thighs and he was left stood in his underwear, black briefs tented from his hard cock. A frenzied need to soothe the urge to get your mouth around him took the reins when you instantly nuzzled into his crotch.

“Fuck me, you’re a needy little slut aren’t you?” He wrapped your hair into a ponytail around his fist, controlling your movements. Though, there was no reason to, eager as you were. You would have done anything he asked. 

You did do anything he asked. 

You hummed while suckling the tip of his cock over the material of his underwear, “Mhm.” He threw his head back and groaned like a wild beast while you admired the wet patch growing on the fabric before your very eyes. It was unhinged — raw. But your stranger of the night didn’t seem to care, too fucked out as his eyes rolled back from pleasure. 

Unable to control your burst of desire, you suddenly shucked his briefs down. 

Your mouth fell open at the sheer size of him, an audible gasp echoed over the silence of the marble walls. Never had you seen a dick as pretty or big before and the drool that had gathered in your mouth began to leak out the side of your mouth. 

You were aching for him. 

With a cocky smile, the man tapped under your chin twice to direct your head upwards. “Up here, darlin’—I want those pretty eyes on me when you take my cock.” 

Immediately opening your mouth wide and sticking your tongue out for him, he chuckled breathily at the crazed look in your dilated pupils. “Well, aren’t you just the biggest whore I ever did see.” Grabbing his cock and pressing the tip onto your tongue, he began to slide it forward. “Good fuckin’ job I like ‘em that way. Now open up wide so I can fuck your throat, baby—”

“Babe!” 

Jolting out of your memory infused dream with a shriek, you span your head around to Rebecca in the drivers seat of her car. “Oh, there you are!” she hissed, teasingly. “I called for you like ten times. Where the fuck did you go?” 

You swallowed the dryness coating your throat and hastily sat up. A hot sweat had settled over your skin and you immediately grabbed your water bottle from the footwell and chugged it down. 

Once you had cooled down, you glanced back at your friend, cringing at the raised eyebrow that meant you weren’t getting out of an explanation. “I, uh— I’m sorry I didn’t—um—get much sleep last night,” you lamely replied. 

The unimpressed expression on her face told you she didn’t believe you. But you were saved when her face suddenly lit up with glee. “Eek! We’re finally here!” 

Had a three hour drive really gone by that fast? 

Looking out the car window, your eyes widened when you saw an estate, guarded by iron gates around the whole property, surrounded by acres upon acres of land. You couldn’t tear your eyes away, even when Rebecca began animatedly speaking with someone by the toll station. 

Who the fuck was this girl? 

Eventually, she pulled up to the house, passing the stone driveway with a water fountain in the middle and cut the engine off. “Come on, you. My Dad’s expecting us.” 

You were in a daze while you opened your door, stepping out the car and taking in every inch of the property. You would have never guessed your friend, the most down to earth and humble person on campus, had a lavish lifestyle with all the trimmings. It was clear she didn’t feel the need to brag about her privilege and her nonchalant attitude about it only baffled you more.

The doors to the mansion suddenly swung open and what you could only have presumed to be a butler promptly rushed towards the car. “Miss Barnes, how lovely to see you again.” 

Rebecca scoffed and hugged the man without hesitation. “Don’t be silly. You know you don’t call me that.” 

Even with her sweetness, he remained as professional then ever and brushed by her to pick up her bags. “Of course, Miss Barnes. Your father is out at the minute, but he has left you a gift by the entryway table.” 

With a high pitched scream, your friend ran inside without looking back. It was hard not to smile at her carefree ways and trying to shake the deepening apprehensiveness from the moment Rebecca invited you, you rounded to the boot of the car to grab your luggage. 

“That won’t be necessary, ma’am.” The butler immediately stepped forward and swiftly picked up your bags along with Rebecca’s with ease. 

“Oh, no that’s okay, honestly! I can bring them in no problem!” You tried detesting, not used to any kind of special treatment.

But it was no use as he kindly insisted, “There is no need to worry. Please relax and join your friend, I believe there is a gift for you too.” 

Sighing, you yielded and eventually followed in your friend’s steps, twiddling your fingers anxiously while you walked into the foyer of the mansion. 

Carefully crafted marble walls with what you could only guess were decorated with millions of dollars worth of extravagant paintings, lined up neatly up to the grand, spiral staircase where a round oak table sat in front of it. 

You instantly spotted two gift baskets, difficult to miss as they were both filled to the brim with an assortment of treats and bright pink tissue paper. 

Rebecca was already busy appreciating hers, taking care to read the note her father had presumably left her and gushing over the copious amount of sweet treats, new nightwear and a cashmere blanket, like this wasn’t a regular occurrence to her. 

However, it was surprising to see you had also been spoiled; all of your favourites, intricately placed in the hamper. Your eye caught the note addressed with your name on and hesitantly, you reached out for it and unfolded the card — a simple yet polite message inside. 

I can only apologise that I wasn’t here upon your arrival. 

I’ve heard great things about you from my Becs and I sincerely look forward to meeting you when I’m home. 

Please make yourself comfortable and enjoy the contents of your gift basket. 

J.B.B.

“Oh, he’s the best,” Rebecca swooned, hugging the white blanket to her chest. “He said he got called into work for a couple of hours so he should be back tonight. 

You exhaled, flitting your eyes over your new gifts. The information eased your nerves slightly — you were never any good at meeting parents, whether that be of friends or partners. The dynamic of a happy household wasn’t one you had experience with and the idea of ruining first impressions caused an anxiety you didn’t particularly care to revisit often. Especially now that Rebecca had come into your life — a friend you could absolutely see yourself building a strong bond with. 

Realising you had been silent for too long, you spoke up, “Your Dad is very kind.” Your fingers inched forward and ran over the soft material of your very own matching cashmere blanket, it felt like you were touching a cloud. From the corner of your eye, you caught your friend suddenly looking sheepish. “What’s wrong?” you asked, turning towards her. 

“I’m sorry about all of this.” She vaguely gestured her hand up in the air, to which you guessed she meant the sheer amount of money that screamed in your face. “I didn’t warn you and I should have. It's just that—” Rebecca’s eyes darted down and she crossed her arms over her stomach, shrinking in on herself. 

You stepped closer, rubbing your hand over her arm for comfort. “Hey, it’s okay. You can tell me.” 

She took a deep breath before lifting her gaze to you and shrugging. “I didn’t know if your intentions would be good if you knew about the money.” 

“Oh, Becs.” Your heart ached at the obvious trauma from her past. Squeezing her arm, you attempted to uplift the sullen mood with some playful teasing. “I became your friend because I couldn’t get rid of you. Although, now it doesn’t hurt to know your family is loaded.” 

Reluctantly, the smile grew on her face, turning into a bright grin she no longer could hide. “You’re awful.” 

“Tell me about it.” You winked, nudging her hip with your own. “Seriously, you’re a good person and I’m your friend because I want to be. I couldn’t give a fuck if you’re rich.” 

The muscles of her body relaxed and she quickly pulled you into a hug. “Thank you, babe.” 

“It’s nothing, silly.” You squeezed her one last time before breaking away. 

Rebecca sniffled, blinking away the onslaught of tears that were close to falling before cheerfully grabbing her basket. “Come on then, let’s go set up and order some pizza.” 

Picking up your own basket, you followed your friend up to her room.

The few hours spent working on your assignments, eating pizza and listening to music flew by. Spending so much time with Rebecca actually turned out to be fun. You usually spent all your free time by yourself, respiting into a hermit because of your inability to enjoy friendly companionship.  

But it was to your surprise that you found yourself not regretting agreeing to the trip. The thought of being back at your dorm, wasting your night away by sleeping, watching trash tv and succumbing to the vibator in your bedside drawer begging you to relive a night of passion now seemed sad as you glanced at your friend and the corner of your lip curled up. 

That bubble burst quickly when a shout coming from the foyer echoed up to the open bedroom door. “Rebecca, sweetheart—I’m home!” 

Instantly, her eyes widened and she shoved the laptop she was using off her lap at once, squealing with joy before leaping off the bed and running downstairs. “Dad!” 

Your fingers twitched over the keyboard of your own laptop in anticipation, looking towards the door and sighing in resignation. 

Decidingly, you thought it was best to give your friend a moment with her father. Not at all because you wanted to prolong the inevitable as long as possible. 

But as a couple of minutes went by, the tick of the pink clock on the desk getting louder and louder by the second, you figured your absence would go noticed and so you begrudgingly shut the lid of your laptop to slowly begin making your way out of the room. 

As you reached the balcony at the top of the staircase, you looked down just as Rebecca hugged her Dad tightly. An ache panged in your heart.

You weren’t close with your parents; neither of them checked up on you or asked when you’d be coming home to see them. They only contacted you when they felt like spewing their badly-hidden resentment towards you and the hurt you thought you had buried long ago began to make its way front and center. 

You shook your head and cleared your throat. You wouldn’t do this, wouldn’t tarnish your stay with your friend over something so silly — or be scared to meet her parent. So with a deep breath, you glided down the steps. 

Rebecca’s Dad had his back turned to you, which meant you only saw his thick head of hair, tucked neatly behind his ears and the muscles of his back straining against the white dress shirt he wore. 

You were unable to pinpoint the exact reason a tingle started to form in your lower stomach, the sensation extremely familiar by now, but you immediately scolded yourself and pinched the skin of your thigh to snap out of whatever mood had caused such depravity. This was your friend’s father; get it together.  

As you reached the bottom of the steps, your friend’s eyes locked onto yours and her whole face beamed. “Dad,” she gasped excitedly. “I want you to meet my friend.” 

You steeled your features; the warmest smile you could manage with the straightest posture possible. 

Time stood still when Rebecca stepped back to let her Dad turn around. Your emotions were all under control and you finally felt like you could do this. 

But that was until your eyes met and your face dropped. Those blue eyes, those damn blue eyes, you would remember them anywhere. 

Bile began to rise in your throat when he faced you completely. Suddenly, you were thrown back to that forbidden night that all started with the same man across the room by the bar, watching you like you were his last meal. Bucky.

You held back a loud gasp, aware that Rebecca was witnessing the interaction. Though, your blood ran cold when his lips lifted into a grin, one you knew a little too well. 

The palms of your hands were clammy with sweat and your heart hammered inside your chest. You weren’t sure how to play this, the stifling silence had already been stretched out ridiculously. 

Rebecca’s voice broke the quiet with an awkward chuckle. “Sorry Dad, we’re a little stumped. Exams have been kicking our asses lately and the drive over was long.”

Guilt crippled you then. While you could never have known the one night stand who invaded your thoughts daily would turn out to be your best friend's father, it still didn’t change anything — you fucked her Dad.

He finally took his eyes away from you to swing an arm around his daughter and laughed in fondness. “Don’t worry, I understand, Becs—you girls must be exhausted.” He then lifted his gaze back to you. “You must be the one she hasn’t stopped talking about.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat. He doesn’t remember you? The lack of expression or recognition instilled a sense of hope within you. 

Maybe he had forgotten about your night together — the low lighting of the club you met him at and the haze of alcohol hindering your senses as he took you to a hotel created a perfection concoction of forgetfulness you rationalised. 

Eventually, deciding to act oblivious and hope for the best, you stammered up the courage to introduce yourself. “M—Mr Barnes. Thank you for letting me stay in your home.”

“Oh none of that, please.” A shiver raced down your spine, memories of begs and whimpers taunting your mind. “I’m James. But call me Bucky, darlin’.” 

It took all the strength you had to trap the moan on the verge of escaping your lips. Yep, you definitely remembered that name. 

Rebecca’s Dad stuck out his hand in front of you. “I’m very happy to meet you.” Your eyes darted between his hand and his face and then to your friend. Steadying your breath, you hesitantly placed your hand into his and felt his fingers tighten against yours. He shook your hand, his thumb gliding over your skin. 

Tightening your lips in anguish, you replied, “V—Very happy to meet you, too.” 

Bucky’s touch lingered against yours until you snatched your hand out of his when Rebecca hopped giddily and clapped her hands. “Oh, this is great! This weeks going to be so fun!”  

You didn’t return the sentiment. This week was going to be your worst nightmare come to life — your biggest mistake being dangled on a string in front of you, only reminding you what a piece of shit you were. 

“Okay, Dad. We’re gonna catch up on a little more work, so I’ll come find you later.” Your friend grabbed your hand that was limped by your side and started to pull you back up the stairs. 

“Hard workers, ain’t you?” he laughed. “If you need anything let me know.” 

“Thanks Dad, will do!” Rebecca shouted back down the stairs. 

When you had reached the first landing balcony, you couldn’t help sneaking one more tiny glance at the one night stand you never thought you would see again. But your heart skipped a beat as you saw him already looking up at you and he slid his hand out of his suit pocket to wave at you before you disappeared. 

You were sitting on Rebecca’s bed, waiting for her return when the inevitable happened. 

An emergency she called it, when she slipped her feet into her shoes and swiftly threw on her hoodie, claiming an issue with her neighbour she absolutely needed to handle. 

You had tried insisting on going with her, an extra pair of hands to help out. But she instantly pushed away your pleas, telling you not to worry and to focus on your work. That was Becca, a true sweetheart. But you wanted to strangle her then, scold her for leaving you in uncharted territory by yourself. 

Nervous and on edge, you couldn’t concentrate on your assignment for the longest time. You consistently made quick glances to the open door of your friend’s bedroom, listened for footsteps upon the landing. Soon enough though, your nerves died down when nothing happened and it allowed you to focus on your laptop, finally becoming fixated on your assignment. 

The only unusual thing that caught you off guard by yourself was the sudden heat of the house. You had built up a sweat in your hoodie and, unable to handle it, you took the fleeced material off in a swift flourish, leaving you in a tank top and shorts. 

Other than that, you powered through, happy to be finally getting somewhere with your work. You weren’t even sure how much time had passed since Rebecca had left and the worry of how long it was taking her to come home slipped your mind. 

Your guard was down while you hummed to the low music, lying on your stomach, back facing the door and typing away as you swung your legs in the air.

“I see you’re working hard.” 

Yelping in fright, you almost fell off the bed, the deep grunt of Bucky’s smooth tone scaring you from the sanctuary of his daughter's room. You whipped your head around to see your friend’s Dad leaned against the doorway dressed in a tight black T-shirt and grey sweatpants, his dog tags rested against his chest.  

The sight was a difficult one to swallow. 

It was instinct to turn around so you were facing him as you raced to shuffle up Rebecca’s bed — a danger, your mind cautioned, to have your back turned to a wolf. 

He held his hands out in front of him as he walked towards you, as though taming a frightened lamb. “Hey there, it’s only me. No need to be scared.” 

“S—Sorry. I was a little lost in my assignment.” You apologised as you scrambled to gather all of your supplies together, desperate to gain some space from Bucky. “I think I’m done for the night, though. So I’ll just go downstairs and wait for Becca—“ 

“Hold up.” Bucky sat on his daughter's bed, leaving little to no proximity between you to effectively trap you in. “There’s no rush now, is there?” 

Exhaling shakily, you stuttered, “N—No— um, not at all, Mr Barnes—“

“Bucky,” he corrected gently. 

“Yes, B—Bucky.” You struggled to test his name on your tongue, not having spoken it since your night together. “I’m so sorry.” 

Rebecca’s dad just laughed, amused at your rambling. 

A tension, seemingly only one-way, swallowed you whole, threatening to drown you. It was impossible to hold direct eye contact with his ocean blues eyes, ones that ran vivid through your mind in your nights alone filled with heated memories and your biggest — now new favourite — vibrator.

His voice snapped you out of lust filled haze. “Rebecca shouldn’t be too long. Poor old neighbour lost his wife a couple of years back and Becs—the angel she is—goes over to help him when he needs it.” 

You could see it. She was the sort to not think twice about helping anyone in need and the thought eased your mind. “Well,” you smiled, hoping you didn't look as awkward as you felt. “That’s very kind of her.” 

“That’s my Becs,” Mr Barnes proudly grinned. 

The room grew silent once again. Picking your fingernails, you fought to calm the cold, harsh anxiety eating away at you. It still seemed as though Bucky couldn’t remember you, but a nagging feeling in your gut wouldn’t let that settle your nerves. 

“I just thought I’d come check on you anyway, sweetheart. Y'know, make sure you’ve settled in nicely for the week.” He smiled while placing his palm on the bed in the small space between you, leaning his weight against it as he got closer. 

“Y—Yeah.” You cleared your throat before continuing, keeping your answers short. “Mhm, I’m all good, thank you.” You smiled tightly, hoping Bucky would take the hint to leave, but alas your luck was short. 

“What you been workin’ on then, darlin’?” He nodded to your laptop resting on your legs. 

“Oh, not much.” You downplayed. “Just a written piece, nothing major— no wait!—” Bucky cut you off as he abruptly swiped your laptop from your lap, the cold ring on his pinky finger brushing against the bare skin of your thigh. Before you could even think of hastily clambering for it back, he already had your laptop open and sitting on his thick thighs as he began reading. 

“A psychology major, huh?” Bucky smirked, eyes scattering across the screen to take your assignment in. “Impressive. You’re a very clever girl.” 

Heat quickly rose up your neck, warming your cheeks as you were rendered speechless. A heavy ache between your legs left you squeezing your thighs together because of his praise — his words sent you straight back to the night against the hotel’s glassed windows he had brutally fucked you against while worshipping how much of a good girl you were for taking all of him. 

Quickly, you shook the intense thought from your mind, scolding yourself for letting it happen an umpteenth time. “Really, it’s nothing,” you said.

Bucky stopped reading your work and looked at you intensely, enough to make you squirm. “You really shouldn’t put yourself down like that.” Placing your laptop on the floor, he smoothly shuffled closer to you. You couldn’t help but stare at the hand he moved into your vicinity. His touch as he laid it on the naked skin of your thigh sent a thrill through your whole body. “Hasn’t anyone ever praised you before, huh?” 

His intricate voice, delicate and gentle soothed you and excited you both in equal measure. The previous alarm bells blaring in your head were non-existent when he squeezed the meat of your thigh so tenderly with his large hands. “I— um— I don’t—”

“Nobody told you how proud they are of you?” 

Your eyes glossed over as the shield you had built for yourself started to dismantle. Bucky was right. You were lonely and tired and you worked so hard for little reward. Your parents didn’t tell you they were proud of you, nobody ever told you how good you had been. 

Bucky’s hand moved up to cup your cheek, his thumb delicately rubbing over your lip. You melted into his touch too quickly. “Shh, it’s alright, sweetheart. I’m proud of you.”  

You willingly fell into a dangerous trap he had set out as your eyes fluttered closed. Your friend’s Dad’s caress was so familiar, even after so long — his scent intoxicating and his voice a melody to the scrambled mess in your head. 

It didn’t occur to you then, the issue with Bucky inching more forward, almost until his chest was plastered to yours. The thought of his strange comfortability with his daughter’s friend wasn’t worthy of space in your head. 

For once you weren’t thinking of Rebecca.

Until the slam of the front door ricocheted up the stairs and into her bedroom. “I’m home, Dad!”

Your eyes shot open and you gave yourself a quick second to get lost in Bucky’s gaze before you leaped up in panic. 

You were half expecting him to also worry, to quickly dart out of the room. But instead he carelessly stood up from the bed along with you and combed his hair back with his fingers. 

“Dad! Where are you?” 

Pure terror. The fear of being caught in a compromising position with Bucky by your friend was overwhelming as your hands shook. Rebecca’s footsteps began to sound over the stairs and you closed your eyes, waiting for chaos. 

It was only a couple of seconds after your stomach jumped in frightful anticipation when you felt her presence join you. “Babe, have you— What the fuck are you doing?” 

Your stomach lurched. Slowly squinting an eye open, you saw your friend standing in the doorway looking at you in confusion. You steadily tracked your sight across the room, expecting to see Bucky. To your surprise, he wasn’t there anymore. 

You opened your eyes fully, the fear easing away some though your nerves were still alight with edginess. “I don’t— I don’t know.” 

“Um, okay?” Becca said wearily. “Anyway, have you seen my Dad, I wanted to talk to him before we head to bed.” 

This was a chance, you inwardly thought. To tell your best friend about everything while your friendship could still be repaired. 

But the probability of disclosing your secret and potentially ruining Rebecca’s life won out. “No. I haven’t seen him.” The lie tasted sour on your tongue and shame clawed its way back to the surface. 

Your friend smiled brightly and shrugged. “No problem, I’ll go find him. I’ll be back to work on assignments in a minute.” She exited her room in search of her Dad. 

You crumpled to the bed and hung your head in your hands, exhaling deeply. You’re a shitty person, the voice in your head supplied unhelpfully. 

After a while, Rebecca had returned to her room and for the rest of the evening, you both worked on your respective assignments; her chattering away happily while you stared at the screen of your laptop blankly, adding nothing to the open document until the two of you decided to call it a night.

Unexpectedly though, instead of getting ready for bed together, your friend showed you to a guest room. 

“Becca,” you laughed. “I thought I’d be staying in your room for the night. You know—with you?” 

“Well, I told my Dad you liked your own space and he set up one of the guest rooms for you. It's no biggie.” She shrugged. 

Right. Because of course you wouldn’t be staying with her when there were an endless amount of spare bedrooms on the first floor alone. 

You cursed yourself in that moment, reliving your protests of spending the midterm break alone because of your need for space. 

“Are you sure?” You tried again, the vulnerability of being by yourself without the buffer of Rebecca taunting you. “We could have a sleepover! Watch movies and stay up late!”

But she just raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “Girl, I know you are dying for a minute to yourself—to relax and decompress.” Holding your hand, she softly laughed. “I practically begged you to come here and you agreed. You’ve been more kind to me in the minute we met than most of my old friends over the span of the years I knew them. So please, the least I could do is give you a break during the nights.” 

The guilt ate you alive; her selflessness and naturally good heart steadily chipping away at your conscience. Why the hell did she have to be so nice? 

Putting on your best smile, you tried to rid of the nasty voice spitting venom inside your head. You slept with her fucking Dad, you whore — you don’t deserve this. Outwardly, you said, “I don’t deserve this, Becs. It's too much.” A somewhat admittance of the truth; the full story you would take to the grave, if only to keep your friendship intact.

“Oh, hush. Of course you do.” She pushed you away playfully into your new room. “Now go freshen up and get some sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.” 

Clenching your hands in unexplained nerves, you wished her goodnight while she began to walk down the hall to her own room. “See you tomorrow, Becs.” The door closed with a click and you dropped your forehead against the wood with a loud thud. 

You could do this, you reasoned with yourself. It was only for a couple of days, and as long as you stayed close to Rebecca and was not left alone with her father, you could ignore your inner thoughts — the vile, disgusting voice that simultaneously begged you to to crawl on all fours to him like a desperate bitch and be ashamed of your sins.

It wasn’t difficult to fall asleep. Exhaustion from the events of a long day and a shower with the most luxurious products you had ever used assisted you with that and you whispered an internal gratitude to the fluffy pillows you laid your head on for helping you escape reality before you closed your eyes. 

However, you were awoken from your deep slumber when the rattle of your bedroom door knob interrupted your dreamless sleep. You had to fight the heaviness of your body as you sat up, rubbing your eyes with a groan before you tried squinting through the darkness to no avail. 

The sudden thought of your friend coming to annoy you after all surprisingly made you crack a smile. “Becs?” you sleepily called out. 

The latch of the door clicked as it steadily creeped open and you rolled your eyes at your friend’s antics. “If you’re trying to scare me then ha ha—very funny, dork.” 

Your sight began to adjust, outlines and shadows soon becoming more clear but still a struggle to make out in the late hour.  

Though there was no response from your friend. Silence shrouded over the room with only your small breaths to be heard. 

You stared at the doorway expectedly, waiting for a response you wouldn’t get. “Becca?” you called out warily once more.

But that time, as the door clicked shut with a deafening loudness, a deep voice — one that definitely did not belong to your friend — answered. “Y’know, you look just as pretty as you did the night we met.” 

Cold dread had every muscle of your body locking up. It became clear then that it wasn’t Rebecca that had entered your room. More so a tall figure, clad in only his underwear and his dog tags.

“M—Mr Barnes?” your lips quivered with panic. “What— What are you doing?” 

Every clink of the metal around his neck haunted you with each step he made closer. You scrambled up towards the headboard, plastering yourself against the wood. 

Pointless when he sat beside you on the bed, bending his knee to lean one leg against your thigh. The feel of his bare skin against yours burned. 

“No need to be afraid, sweetheart,” Bucky chuckled. “You know me, don’t you?” 

You gulped. Sudden dizziness blurred his face to your eyes and the deprivation of your sight made his touch all the more electrifying when he swept your hair to the side and kissed your shoulder. 

A shudder ran down your spine, the strap of your silk nightgown falling down your arm and stripping you of your only defense left against him. 

“Mr Barnes,” you tried again, more pleadingly. 

“What have I said about calling me that, hm? You know my name well enough by now, pretty girl. You’ve screamed it enough.” His tormenting laugh vibrated through you while he still peppered feather light kisses across your skin. 

You begged your body to move, for your hands to push him away and your voice to shout for Rebecca. Alas, you kept to your place, still as stone. 

“You can’t— you can’t be here,” you whispered shakily. 

Bucky smirked. “Oh really? Is this not my house, sweetheart?” Your nipples pebbled against the silk material covering them as his breath cascaded goosebumps over your skin in its trail. “Been tryin’ so hard to restrain myself since I saw you again this mornin’. But I can’t fuckin’ hold back anymore.” 

“You remember me,” you managed to choke out.

Bucky hummed, laving his tongue over the sweat building on your neck. “Like I could ever forget a girl like you.” 

The knot in your stomach tightened, each press of his lips over your body immobilising you further. Bucky knew who you were, from the moment your eyes connected in the foyer. The reality set in then — deep and unsettling and delicious, all at once. 

“I had to act like I didn’t know you, baby. Couldn’t have Rebecca finding out her only friend knows the taste of her Dad’s cock now, could I?” 

You felt sick. Your mind raged in war between a guilty conscience and your own pleasure. To give in would be evil, so horrendously sick and twisted.

A single tear dropped from your watery eyes and slowly rolled down your cheek, the sudden saltiness hitting Bucky’s tongue and making him groan. “Fuck, don’t tease me already, baby.” 

“She’s my friend,” you whimpered. “I can’t do this to her.” 

Bucky looked up, a soft expression on his face. “Oh, darlin’. I love her too, really.” His lip curled up then, a wolfish gleam in his eye. “But I can’t go another minute without touchin’ you.” 

Placing his forehead against yours, his hand traveled up from your thigh, all the way over your stomach until he reached your tits. You squeezed your eyes tightly closed when his forefinger and thumb pinched your nipple through the silk. “Doesn’t this feel good, hm? Doesn’t this feel right?”

Against your will, you released a high pitched keen. “Bucky.”

His chest rumbled in delight, a deep purr in your ear. However, your mind still bartered with itself, unrelenting in its inability to give in. “But what if Becca—?” 

“She doesn’t have to know a damn thing, baby.” Bucky turned his head and bit over the pulse of your neck. “It’ll be our dirty little secret.” 

Your head was filled with clouds, a fog smothering over any rational thought. Especially with the way Bucky began to sneakily slip the other strap of your nightgown down. He was mesmerising in his actions, his fragile touches that made you feel special. 

You so desperately wanted to feel special. 

Just like he made you feel back in the summer. 

The evil voice in your mind hissed at you — dirty, disgusting, whore. The hopeful one became louder — lonely, unloved, tired. 

You were so fucking tired. 

The fight in you left. You were a goner, a sacrificial lamb while you tilted your head back to reveal more of you. The walls you so carefully crafted came crumbling down pathetically. 

Bucky didn’t waste any time taking advantage of that. “There’s my good girl. Let it happen, baby.” 

The moon shone through the window, becoming the only source of light in the darkness and its glow blanketed over the same features as the strobe lights in the club back in summer. 

Fate hadn’t been on your side from the moment it cruelly introduced Becca into your life when it had already manifested your demise with her Dad. So who were you to try and change it?

Letting your body take control over your mind, you turned your head, grabbed Bucky by the back of his neck and crashed your lips to his — finally giving into temptation. His answering moan of shock and arousal made you more daring and you snuck your tongue into his mouth too. 

Bucky ripped away, a string of saliva connected between your lips. “You still wear the same fuckin’ cherry chapstick,” he groaned, before squeezing your breast tightly. “Fuck—go lay your head at the end of the bed for me, sweetheart. Want that shit around my cock.” 

With urgency, you rushed over to the edge of the mattress, lying on your back and making sure your head hung over the bed. Your view was upside down, warped while you watched Bucky stroll towards you with bated breath. 

He stood behind you, all menacing and tall — you had never felt smaller in your life, though you liked the feeling with him. 

The veins on Bucky’s forearm bulged from his skin as he brought his hand to your throat. Lightly, he caressed his thumb over the junction of your neck. “Do you remember how eagerly you sucked my dick last time?” 

You swallowed the lump in your throat, the bob of it transcending under his large hand. “I— I do.” 

He smirked down at you. “You gonna make me proud again, baby?” 

Your eyes glazed over with neediness. “Please—Want to make you proud of me.” 

His bright white teeth gleamed with his predatory smile. “Stick out your tongue for me, darlin’.” 

Doing as he asked, you opened your mouth and let your tongue hang out, uncaring to how easily you obeyed his commands. 

“Good job, sweetheart.” Bucky brought his hands up to his underwear and with a swift pull, his black briefs fell to the ground. 

You preened like a cat at the sight of his cock bobbing into your view. The light casting in from the moon glistened over the underside of his dick, the purple head pulsing harshly. 

Bucky pumped his cock slowly twice, a premature pearl of cum gathering at the head. “You ready for me, baby?” 

Nodding your head hungrily up at him, you whined, “Uh-huh.”

Bucky positioned himself closer to you, your head hung between his spread legs. You waited in anticipation for him to inch forward and slide his length down your throat, but instead he tapped the head of his cock against your wet tongue. 

The resounding slap caused you to rub your thighs together in agony, the feel of his heavy weight divine. 

“Aw, babygirl,” Bucky teased. “You missed me that much you can’t help those tingles already, huh?” He tapped his length against you again and his eyes fluttered. “There’s more where that came from.” 

The desperation to wrap your lips around his cock was overbearing and so you sealed your mouth around him, suckling the tip with a refound hunger. 

“Holy fuck.” Bucky’s legs trembled at the shock of your sudden confidence. “Oh, just like that, sweetheart.” 

You swiped your tongue around the bulbous head of his dick, moaning rabidly at his salty taste. Bucky’s natural musk was addictive and you tried to shuffle your body closer to take more of his length, but he quickly grabbed your hips to stop you. “Woah—slow down there. Daddy’s the one runnin’ the show tonight, not you.” 

You let go of his cock with a pop. “Please, Daddy.” Your pleas were breathless as you panted for air. “Want all of you—please!” 

Leaning over until his lips brushed yours, Bucky kissed you deeply before murmuring, “Don’t worry your pretty little head about that, I’ll make sure you take all of me.” 

He stood back up promptly, giving you whiplash in your current state. “Now open that slutty little mouth. Wide.” 

Hardly giving you time to do as he asked, Bucky shoved his entire length down your throat. Your eyes widened as you gagged around him. 

“Shh, baby. You’re okay, relax.” Opposite to his brutal force, he brushed softly over your chin. “You can handle me. You’ve done it before, right?” 

Breathing through your nose calmly was a challenge with his thick cock limiting your intake of oxygen. But you wanted so badly to fulfill Bucky’s wishes. So closing your eyes and willing yourself not to panic, you focused your breaths. 

“There we go.” The pride in his tone was exhilarating. “Knew you could do it, darlin’.”

Bucky kept still for a few more seconds, allowing you to get used to the intrusion of the new position before he began to ease his cock out of your throat and gently push back in. “Yeah, you remember my cock don’t you, sweetheart? Your tight little throat feels so fuckin’ good.” 

Your hands came up to grip the back of his firm thighs to ground yourself. You felt every inch of him glide down until his tip reached your windpipe and you coughed violently, sputtering around him.

“That’s right, baby. Choke on me.” Bucky upped the speed of his pace then and your nails dug deep into his flesh. 

While his actions turned harsh and forceful, your pleasure grew and with your squirming, the skirt of your nightgown began to ride up your body without you realising. 

Bucky did though, almost immediately. You couldn’t see how his eyes snapped towards the bare skin of your thighs and lower stomach and to his pleasant surprise, you weren't wearing any panties. 

The sound of his laughter while his hips continued to pump into you made your nerves spike. 

“My sweet girl,” he cooed short windedly. “You must’ve known I was coming, huh? Not wearing anything under that cute little outfit.”

You squealed, unable to say anything while sucking his cock, though the vibrations of your moans made Bucky’s thrusts falter. 

“Fuck—shit, baby. I almost forgot how good you are at that,” he laughed. His hands traveled tantalising over your stomach until he reached the bottom of your nightgown. “Let Daddy see what you’ve been hidin’ from me.” 

The silk material unpeeled from your skin as Bucky lifted it over your breasts. Your full body was on display for him and you fidgeted bashfully under his scrutiny. Your sight was compromised, your movements were limited and your thoughts were scrambled. 

“Oh, darlin’. You’re a doll, ain’t you?” Bucky’s rough and calloused hands smoothed over your bare skin. He palmed your breasts roughly, just once before inching down to your lower stomach. “Now, you gonna show me what I really wanna see?” 

It didn’t take you a second to spread your legs for him, the cold air hitting your soaked cunt. 

“That’s it,” he murmured. “Open those gorgeous thighs for me, I wanna see how wet my baby girl is.” 

Bucky leaned over your body, pushing his cock even further down your throat. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, but your body soon jolted at the feel of his finger sliding through your folds. 

You screamed around his dick and tapped his thighs for a breather, which he so graciously granted. As soon as he tilted his hips to let his cock fall out of your mouth, you gasped loudly. “Oh my god— Bucky, I can’t. I can’t I can’t, please—” 

Your hoarse voice was cut off when Bucky wrapped his free hand around your throat. “Shut the fuck up and take it.” 

His cock laid against your cheek while he looked into your eyes. He forewent easing you into it and instead forced two of his fingers into your cunt. You were about to cry out until he shoved his cock down your throat again with a sigh. “Guess Daddy’s gonna have to keep you quiet—such a noisy girl.” 

The clink of his dog tags with each thrust mixed with your gurgles around his cock, a mixture of your spit and precum bubbling around your mouth and running messily down your chin. The stretch of his fingers unprepared was painful and yet it blended perfectly into pleasure. “Mmph!” 

“Yeah? You like that, sweetheart?” Bucky choked when he thrusted into your mouth at a particular angle. Taking advantage of his legs twitching erratically, you managed to release his dick and reach further back to his balls. 

Wasting no time, you sucked them into your mouth while his cock slapped against your cheeks, smothering precum all over your face. 

“Fuck,” he groaned, keeping the steady rhythm of his fingers pumping into your pussy. “You filthy fuckin’ whore—you just want all a’me don’t ya?” 

You hummed while playing with balls, using your tongue to tease over his perineum. Bucky was losing his composure fast and the thrill of it made the knot in your stomach tighter. 

But not one to be outdone, he ripped his fingers out of your cunt and slapped your clit, hard. You let go with a pop and squealed his name. “Bucky!” 

You tried closing your legs, the sensation too overwhelming. Though it was useless with his strength as he held your thighs apart to carry on bringing his hand down firmly on your cunt. “I thought you wanted to play dirty, darlin’,” he growled. “Daddy’s just having some fun.” 

Your body jolted with each slap delivered. You took it, even when the pain became too much and you thought you would pass out, until Bucky decided to give you respite. He left your pussy sore and aching as he lifted up away from you. A whine tore from your throat. 

“That's what happens when you don’t do as I say.” You were manhandled up and into Bucky’s arms as he sat down against the headboard. He moved you around without a hint of struggle and placed you on his lap, facing away from him. “Good girls don’t disobey Daddy, do they?” 

“No,” sighed. His hard, thick length stood firm against your ass, his dog tags soothingly cold against your warm back and you whimpered pleadingly while grinding back into him. “Want it in me.” 

Bucky’s laughter vibrated through you. “Yeah, baby? Wanna bounce on Daddy’s cock?” 

“Yes! Please!” you cried. 

Gliding his hands around to your front, he pinched each nipple. “Well, I’m not stoppin’ you. Go ahead.” 

You inhaled deeply, gathering all your strength to lift up on your shaky legs. Using Bucky’s thighs to hold yourself, you tilted your hips up until your heat skimmed over the head of his cock. “O—Oh, oh shit,” you stuttered at the sensation. 

Bucky’s head thumped back against the headboard. “God—I’ve fuckin’ missed that cunt.” 

His enjoyment allowed you the courage to balance on one hand while your other reached down to grip his thick length. A strangled noise rose from Bucky’s throat, but you ignored it and swept his tip through your folds. 

“Look who’s gotten brave, huh?” Bucky laughed breathlessly while he played with your tits. “Not thinkin’ about poor Becs now are you, baby?” 

Before the harsh retort could dig deep and make a home in your conscience, you shook your head and let his cock catch on your clenching hole. “Wanna be filled again.” 

“Then do somethin’ about it, darlin’.” Bucky rested his chin on your shoulder and you both looked down to where your sex rested on his length. Your stomach sucked in with your uneasy breaths and after internally counting down, you dropped your hips. 

“Fuck!” Bucky’s hands gripped your breasts tightly, something to help him through how good the slick glide felt. You did the same, latching on to his meaty thighs. “Shit.”

Your chests rose and fell in tandem, but the sensation of feeling so full made you tighten around his cock. “I need to move, Daddy.” 

His mouth moved over your neck as he spoke, “Go on, babygirl. Milk Daddy’s cock.” 

With his approval, you began to angle your hips up, letting his length slide out of you until the very head rested snug in your hole and then sank down again steadily. Your breath hitched while your head fell back onto his shoulder.  

“Just like that, sweetheart. Fuck—just like that. Keep going for me.” Bucky’s hands smoothed down to your hips and gripped them, helping you move over his cock. 

“You’re so b—big,” you whispered. “Forgot how big you are.” 

“Oh, I know. But you’re doing so good for me, aren’t you?” he cooed. 

“Mhm,” your head bobbed lazily up and down with your motions. “I’m your good girl, right?” 

Bucky grunted and made you bounce faster. “The best, baby. Such a good girl for me.” 

His dick throbbed angrily inside you, its length scraping your walls and stretching you with its girth. The clapping of your thrusts grew louder, more depraved as you lost control from the divine pleasure. Had you been thinking more clearly, you would have been careful about your volume, but all your inhibitions went out the window long ago. 

“Need more,” you slurred. “Wanna cum, but need more Daddy.” 

“Shh—I know what you need, sweetheart.” Bucky slithered his hand down your stomach and to your heat. With your legs spread wide over his, it gave him ample opportunity to snake his fingers over your engorged clit and begin circling them.  

You squeaked, instantly snapping your legs closed around his hand. “Bucky, wait!—”

But he forced your legs open and slapped your clit, making you jump with a shout. “Don’t you fuckin’ tell me to wait. You asked me for more so you’re getting more, you slut. What happened to wantin’ to make me proud, hm?” 

You sobbed as a tear tracked down your cheek. “I— I do!” 

“So then you’ll take it—won’t you?” Bucky growled against your ear. 

Sniffling, you nodded, panting while bouncing on his cock. “Yes.” 

“Yes, what?” 

You hiccuped. “Yes, D—Daddy.” 

Bucky hummed in approval and began thrusting up to meet your stride. “That’s more like it.” 

You took what he gave you while he fucked up into your pussy. The strain of your muscles was almost unbearable, but you persevered through the pain — to be the center of his attention, to be so utterly wanted felt too compelling to give up. 

His thrusts were harsh, rough enough to have your toes curling and his balls to smack against your skin. All those sensations paired with his ruthless circles on your clit blended to build your impending orgasm. “I’m so close,” you gasped. 

“Me too, babygirl.” Bucky grunted, biting into his plump bottom lip. “Gonna empty my load inside a’you.” 

You preened, the walls of your pussy clenching around his length. “Please.” 

Bucky’s hips worked overtime, a ferocious beast taking over in its haze. He brought his free hand up to your cheeks and squished them together. “Who’s Daddy’s little cumslut, huh?” 

“Me,” you cried. “I’m Daddy’s cumslut.” 

“Fuck yeah you are,” he snarled. “And now that I’ve got you back you’re not fuckin’ goin’ anywhere.” 

You were too dizzy to comprehend the weight behind his words, instead you slammed your hips up and down in time with Bucky’s movements, chasing the tightening in your lower stomach. 

“You ready for me, darlin’?” he asked. 

You swallowed the dryness in your throat. “Uh-huh.”

“Good. Now hold on.” Without waiting for you to reply, he grabbed under your thighs and lifted you. You were held up solely by his arms as he powerfully began to fuck you. 

You became mute, mouth hung open on a continuous silent scream. The feeling was like no other; Bucky’s pure strength and huge length tore you apart, physically and mentally. 

“Gonna,” thrust, “fill,” thrust, “this,” thrust, “gorgeous fuckin’ pussy.” 

Your tongue lolled out of your mouth like a dog, drool dripping down your chin while your eyes rolled to the back of your head. You were on the verge of cumming. “Close.” You had been reduced to one syllable words. 

“I know, baby. I fuckin’ know—Can feel you,” Bucky gasped. “Let go for me, darlin’.” It was only when the angle of his hips changed and the head of his cock repeatedly nudged against your cervix that the balance of your orgasm tipped over. 

“Hnng—Fuck!” You walls trapped Bucky’s dick in a tight chokehold as your thighs shook in a spasm. He continued to grind up into you, releasing his warm load into your pussy. 

“Bucky!” you keened while your walls fluttered around his length. The rush was unlike any you had experienced before and an errant thought that any consequence was worth it to cum like that again swirled through your mind. “Made me— made me cum so hard,” you slurred.

Your high began to simmer down and you felt like you could regain control over your mind until Bucky’s hand came down onto your clit again. “One more,” he breathed into your ear. “Gimme one fuckin’ more.” 

Your eyes shot open and you shook your head, rapidly. “C—Can’t,” you managed to croak. “Too much.” 

You reached down to try and pry his hand away from you, but he was too strong. “I said I want one more.” Bucky held your arms to your chest then, beginning to rub your clit in fast circles. 

An unusual pressure built up quickly and you panicked. “Bucky—something’s wrong.” 

But he sucked over your neck, easing your worries. “You’re okay. It's okay, baby. Just let it happen, remember?” 

You writhed in his hold, moaning salaciously. “I’m— I’m g—gonna cum again.” The feel of his cock still filling you, his cum seeping out of your whole which each dirty grind he made, the sensation of his tongue against your neck and his tireless fingers was all too much. 

“Cum for Daddy then, darlin’.” A couple of circulations later and you screamed out in unimaginable pleasure. Your stomach swooped and the next you knew, a strong pressure forced Bucky’s cock out of your cunt. A rush of liquid sprayed out of you and covered the entirety of the bedsheets. 

“There we are,” he grinned wickedly. “Exactly what I wanted.” 

It felt like it went on forever. Bucky didn’t let up on his insistent rubbing. But as soon as the last juices squirted out of you, you deflated into his chest, breaths heaving with utter exhaustion. You were too tired to keep your eyes open, body boneless and overexerted. Your body jumped with aftershocks, tiny zings of electricity igniting your nerves. 

Bucky finally slowed his fingers down to a stop on your clit. Your back rose and fell with his pants, each puff of his exhales hitting your sensitive skin and making you shiver. 

“Holy fuck,” he laughed deliriously. “That was—fuck.” 

Internally agreeing, you hummed, incapable of formulating words. Bucky’s arms wrapped around you while he placed a kiss to the back of your head and you enjoyed being surrounded with his warmth and comfort. “You were perfect, babygirl,” he mumbled. “Did so fuckin’ good for me. Made Daddy so proud.” 

A wide smile curled onto your face as your eyes remained closed. You were falling out of consciousness, giving in to sleep fast. 

“Let’s get you comfy.” You didn’t stir when Bucky began to lift up, or when he rearranged your form so he could carry your limp body in his arms. 

Your body bounced with each powerful step he made. Vaguely hearing the room door open, a cold blast of air hit your heated skin and you shivered, snuggling closer into Bucky’s chest. 

Your head swam with fuzziness. You couldn’t bear to open your eyes with their heaviness. But you felt as you were delicately placed onto a large, comfortable bed, stacked with pillows and fitted with dry sheets, along with Bucky’s delicious scent that tickled your senses. 

A soft kiss was pressed onto your cheek, a firm hand curling around your waist and just before you could succumb to sleep, you heard his last words. “You get some rest now, sweetheart. We’ve still got a whole week ahead of us.” 

You were sure the mortification would hit you in the morning. Pure regret sinking deeply into your skin and making you feel sick to the core. 

But you also knew now that any chance of quitting your best friend's dad had been lost. Because Bucky was a guilty pleasure, a rush you couldn’t bear to give up — no matter the consequences and no matter who it would inevitably hurt. 

[pinkslavicdoll]

𝓑𝓮𝓬𝓸𝓶𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓓𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓶 𝓖𝓲𝓻𝓵

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

everyone has their own definition of a dream girl - a girl who is simply everything we want or everything we want to be. i strongly believe that discipline and the law of assumption can help anyone become their own version of a dream girl. so why not just manifest that into your reality?

start by figuring out exactly what it means to be a dream girl to you.

what's her name? what does she do for a living? how much money does she make? what about her education? where does she live? what does she look like? what does her body look like? what kind of clothes does she wear? what kind of person is she? what does her morning routine look like? what does her day look like? what does her night routine look like? what are her hobbies and interests? how does she see the world and other people? how do other people see her? what are her goals in life? what kind of people does she surround herself with? what does she do in her free time?

now the most important thing is to answer those questions like you're talking about yourself. not "she is..." but "i am...". i suggest you write it down somewhere just so you can come back to it whenever you need it.

answer those questions and add whatever details you want your dream girl to have. please remember that this is the version of a girl who is perfect to YOU. don't feel like your answers have to be something that other people consider perfect, just describe the version of yourself who is truly happy with her life.

now that you know what a dream girl is to you, tell yourself that you are that girl. i don't wanna hear any "oh but she's rich and i'm not" or "oh but she's this and that and i'm not". no! she is you and you are her. if you can imagine it you can have it. think about what your life would look like if you were that girl. daydream, make plans, journal, create vision boards, do whatever that helps you be in the dream girl state. you are your dream girl, that's it. you look like her, you talk like her, you walk like her, you are her. no matter what shows up in your reality, that doesn't matter, you're becoming your dream girl and nothing and no one can stop you.

something that will definitely help with that is doing the things on your list that are possible for you right now. if your dream girl wakes up early and you know that it's possible for you then start waking up early as well. if your dream girl does yoga and you have enough time and are physically able to do it, start doing yoga. you don't have to start with extremely expensive products and routines, just whatever is possible for you right now. do whatever will help you stay in that state and the rest will simply come to you :)

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚