#i fucking love. to take a train. anyway FINALLY i pierce my goddamn FACE

[plenilune]

begging the gods to speed my tax refund along. begging the gods for my tax refund because I am using him to get a septum piercing finally. also I need like. new sheets. and financial breathing room.

[tokoyamisstuff]

Oneshot: Substance - Bucky x Reader

Summary: After stumbling upon certain things on your boyfriends phone, your self-esteem drops below zero.

Warnings: Self-hatred, Angst, Fatshaming, kinda Self-Harm (like withdrawal, not eating enough and overly excessive sport), one or two Swear Words.

Words: ~2900

A/N: Didn’t want to keep you guys waiting any longer, so this has been written in an hour without proof-reading. please have mercy with my soul

“Heya, sweetie-pie. Mind giving me the usual?”

There he was, 12 o’clock as usual. Bucky was leaning over the counter and staring at you with his piercing blue eyes.

He gave you a wink as he shoved the money over the counter, looking around the small but full diner. It was always that crowded at this time of the day.

“Come on, you doofus. You know it’s on me” you chuckled as you pressed the coins back in his hand, relishing at his warmth for a brief second before stepping back.

It has become a ritual to prepare his favourite on almost every single day, even though he claimed to love everything on your menu. His therapist once told him that a certain routine would help him adapt to society again, and he stuck to it pretty closely.

And visiting your restaurant was an important part of his day.

“Do you think we can spend the evening?” Your boyfriend was sipping on his coffee, eyes lighting up when you finally got him his piece of plum pie with whipped cream.

When you watched him eating it in almost one bite, you kind of admired him for being able to eat basically anything without gaining weight. But well, on the other hand, training and fighting were his daily bread, so it was no wonder those calories would be burned like it was nothing.

“Gosh, delicious as always” Bucky mumbled and you couldn’t surpress a quiet laugh at your dork while you were serving another customer. “And I mean you in that dress, not the food. Love your style.”

You usually avoided to fuel his stupid way of flirting, no matter how flattered you felt anyway. So you simply changed the topic. “Dunno. Might get late. Today seems to be very profitable.”

It was just wonderful how understanding Bucky was. Well, he knew he was a piece of work as well. Why should he be mad if you were sucessfull anyway?

So he just shrugged with a wide grin as he handed you over the empty plate, saying “Well, then I’ll tidy up the flat until you’re done. Guess who’s gonna get a back rub when they’re back home?”

“Sounds like a Netflix and Cuddle evening?”

“Everything you want, doll.” He gave you a quick kiss on the cheek, knowing you weren’t all that comfortable with PDA - at least at work. “I won’t bother you any longer.”

“You’re never bothering me.” Smirking, you admired the way his muscles bulged through his sleeveless top. “Distracting is a far better word.”

He won’t comment on your statement, rather winking at you and mumbling something like “You just wait until later...” as he already rushed out of the entrance.

Six hours later you were finally able to end your twelve hour shift and close the restaurant almost on time - well...plus the few customers who came about five minutes before closure, and having to clean up the mess you’d always leave behind when cooking as quick as possible.

“I’m home, darlin’!” you cheered as you threw your bag into a corner and got rid of your shoes.

Seems like he was in the shower, at least he yelled something like ‘having something for you when he’s done’.

Well, if the surprise was something cute or nasty - you’d have no problem with either one.

“Hey, babe!” his voice called you out of the bathroom. “Can you look up when we made the reservation for cinema? I made a screenshot from the booking confirmation.”

He’d always ask for that kind of stuff in the weirdest situations. Probably because he knew he’d forget it otherwise.

“Alright.” His smartphone was placed on the nightstand, as usually. It was a miracle that he learned to use it that quickly, but on the other hand he’d always been very invested with new technology.

The two of you had no secrets. And even if: Taking each others cellphones wouldn’t really tell you something you didn’t already know about each other, so it had never been a no-go to use the others phone.

You sat down on the edge of the bed after throwing your sweat-soaked and stained clothes into the basket, wishing Bucky would hurry up so you could clean up and enjoy some hot water.

Scrolling through his picture folder, you hummed a happy little song, already wondring what you’d do on your day off tomorrow.

James is still pretty awkward in todays society, but hell he knew how to treat a woman. And dates were his speciality.

“I can’t fi-” Your words turned into a loud gasp as you saw the preview image of a seemingly naked woman. Shocked, even though you felt bad for prying instead of trusting your partner, you klicked on it to see the whole picture.

It was exactly what you thought it was. That sort of picture drunk elderly men would send each other in Whatsapp Groups.

A beautiful woman, only wearing a thong and presenting it in a - let’s call it ‘seductive’ pose.

And the worst of all was the headline, floating above the models face:

“The Perfect Woman”

This was not the only pic of some sort - you found a dozen of it, videos as well.

Disgusting was the only thing that came to your mind.

Not the woman, though. You were not one to slut-shame anyway.

But a feeling of disgust came up when you layed down the phone and went to the mirror, watching yourself closely. And for the first time, you were not satisfied with what you were seeing.

Sure, you’ve always been kind of chubby. But up until now you’ve never doubtet your beauty.

Curves were always something beautiful to you, even though you had to admit that some days, you were asking yourself why you had to be the only one of your friends who had that hard cellulite and stretch marks.

Maybe if you’d already have kids or were older, you’d be fine with it, but...

On the other hand, your friends would admire the fact that you had bigger breasts and a ‘peach ass’, as they’d call it.

Your mother used to call it ‘atomar boobs’ and ‘birth-enthusiastic hips’, always making you laugh about how self-ironic she was. But on the inside you knew how much she was struggling as well.

There were so many forms of beauty, and you loved every single one of it - including your own. But now..

“Ugly” you told yourself again and again, while trying to find a suitable pose that didn’t make you look like a small, wobbly piece of fat.

Did the opinion of a man really matter more to you than your own? Now you also felt kind of pathetic.

Actually, you were just hurt. Of him not being honest, and obviously searching for something...you didn’t want to say ‘better’, but rather ‘different’ than you.

As former Winter Soldier, he might not be that popular, but his looks sure did the trick anyway. So why not searching for a thin woman if he loves them so much?

Or does he already know them? What if those were not mere pictures, but woman he actually contacted?

The thought alone made you tear up.

You’ve tried. Your whole life you did and he knew that.

It’s a problem you’ve been struggling for your whole youth, after all.

No matter how much sport or diets you tried out, your body just wouldn’t change. Even after you’ve got diagnosed with hypothyreosis, the medication would only do so much as prevent further weight gain.

Things got a lot easier when you were grown up, and the bullies would decrease.

You learned to love yourself, and realized that many people were into exactly your kind of body-type. After finding your own style and way of living, things became so much easier and you could finally be yourself.

“Heya, there” a familiar voice snickered behind your back, “What’s cookin’, good lookin’?”

The only reaction Bucky would gain was a pained groan, yet you didn’t dare to make a scene just yet. You wanted him to take the hints and be honest with you, that was what you had decided.

“Didn’t find the picture. Go look yourself.”

With that said, you’d walk straight past him and towards the bathroom. It took you quite a while to cry to your hearts extend, sobs being deafened by the pattering sounds of the shower.

You wrapped a towel around yourself, but when you saw your reflection again as you put on some lotion, you decided to wear the bathrobe.

No matter how you moved, you felt like some fat would always wiggle or roll up somehow - and Bucky felt your discomfort as soon as you greeted him with a twisted face.

“C’mon here, babydoll. We can talk.” He patted the spot right next to him on the bed, and goddamn it was just too unfair how he was posing there on the mattress, looking like a fucking adonis compared to you.

The very second you stiffly layed down next to him, you felt his hand slip under your bathrobe and squeeze your thigh, making you gasp.

“Maybe I can cheer you up otherwise before we talk...” he breathed into your ear, adding a bittersweet “I missed you.”

“Bucky, please. I’m tired.” Perfect. You managed to get that sentence out without your voice cracking once. Now you just needd to turn around and wrap yourself in your comforter before he’d see the tears in your eyes.

You didn’t want him - or anyone else - to touch you ever again.

“O-okay...” James stuttered, already reaching out his hand to touch your shoulder. But in the end, he retreated it, realizing you needed some time for yourself. “Imma be at the sofa if you need me.”

“Or tell me what the fuck is wrong all of a sudden...” He kept himself from saying that.

The following days were the hardest ones yet to come - for both of you.

It all started with you declining all offers from friends to go swimming or visiting some food-places, slowly but steadily withdrawing you from the happy, active life you’ve built up out of anger and shame.

You had grown quite distant as time passed, at first finding any kind of excuse for intimacy, and afterwards not even bearing any kind of physical contact. Not to speak of simple and carefree talking...

The air had become strained around the two of you, but Bucky was too afraid to ask you what was wrong.

Instead of letting off some steam through work as always, you took a few weeks off. It wasn’t like you needed the money anyway, looking at how successfull your work was.

Your restaurant, even though being more of a small diner, had been on the top of New Yorks most popular ones for years. And you were damn proud of it.

Bucky would always say you’re the only one who cooks just like home, and meanwhile you knew all of his favourite dishes.

An unconscious smile ghosted your lips when you thought back to the day where Bucky would go all Winter Soldier on a dude that made fun of you for being “a wandering cliché: a fat woman running a kitchen”. Ouch.

You didn’t go on vacation those days - there was different work to do.

Actually, you liked sports. For fun, that is. Like going to swim with your friends, or going for a walk. Sometimes visiting the gym, even. To you, it was more part of a healthy lifestyle instead of a competition for appreciation.

But now, things were different. You tried to built up your confidence again through secretly visiting the Avengers training rooms - yet to no avail.

Steve kindly offered you help with any certain training, but you declined. This was something you wanted to achieve yourself.

As if that would change anything about your feeling of betrayal...

“Fuck!” you exclaimed after almost falling off the treadmill, having to use the emergency turn-off. Even though many people assumed it, you weren’t really unfit. But those past days, you’ve just overloaded yourself through excessive training and eating almost nothing.

You kneeled down, desperately trying to catch your breath. Looking down, you saw your bruised knuckles from punching the bag earlier and thinking of that damn beautiful woman on Buckys cellphone.

If only you would have the courage to talk this through with him...but you were afraid of the outcome. Of the truth.

Knowing you were all alone on the floor, you finally gave in to your emotions, huddling to a fetal curl and starting to sob over your deadlocked situation.

“Y/N?”

Dear god no - it was Bucky. What was he doing here? It was not his usual training time!

On the other hand: What else did he have to do in his free-time, now that the other Avengers are on a mission and his girlfriend is avoiding him at all costs?

Actually, he wanted to let off some steam as well. But seeing you like this swung his mood in an instant, and he aided you immediately.

“What’s wrong? Are you hurt?!” There was genuine compassion in his voice, sorrow even. As if it was his fault.

He was kneeling right next to you, and for the first time in two weeks, you wouldn’t flinch at his touch. “Let me help you...”

“You don’t need to play anymore, James” you whimpered, slapping his hand away. “Just get this over with.”

Now you’ve got him mad. “What the fuck did I do wrong to deserve this, Y/N?!” he screamed and his metal fist would meet the floor, cracking it broken.

“I know damn well I’m far from the perfect boyfriend...” Bucky began to sniffle, still clenching and unclenching his fists. “But I thought you’d love me as I am.”

“You’re one to talk.” Fuck it, now that you seemingly screwed up anyway you could talk freely. “I’ve seen the photos, Bucky. Of the perfect woman. Many of them. Seems like you prefer something not remotely close to me.”

For a while, there was only silence.

Bucky dug his face deep into his palms, as if he wanted to disappear in them - or simply to facepalm in a pretty weird way.

“Doll, is that what all this is about?”

His reaction made you feel kinda strange. “Y-yeah.” Did you overreact?

“You know I don’t possibly know her. Don’t care about her or her body either.” He sat there, cross-legged and with a face as dark as your heart had been those past weeks.

“Then why do you keep a ton of photos of naked models on your phone?!” You jumped onto him, effectively knocking him over and pinning him on the floor. Out of a whim, you wanted to run away, but he trapped you in his hold.

“Gosh, why can’t you talk to me for once?” It almost sounded like he found it funny. “You’re usually one to be upfront about everything.”

A sole tear escaped every eye, but Bucky would catch them with his thumb.

“Sam sent them to me. We have that Whatsapp-Group, and he’s simply that single, horny dude that finds that kind of stuff funny. You know I never delete anything. I have over 5000+ photos on that shit phone.”

You were stunned, looking at him in disbelief. “I’m sorry, doll. I should’ve know you’d stumble across them eventually. But you were always so confident and strong, the thought of it bothering you never crossed my mind.”

“Y-you-” Gosh, what a fucking idiot you were. “You’re not at fault, Buck! I’m so sorry! I feel so stupid right now.”

“And I thought you wanted to leave me...” he murmured, mainly to himself.

“Wha- how could I ever?! You’re the love of my life! Why else do you think your opinion matters this much to me? Look where we are right now!”

“And you know that the beauty-standarts of the 40s are exactly what you look like, right?”

The situation changed so drastically, it left both of you in boisterous laughter.

When you finally catched your breath, holding your thummy at how much you laughed, Bucky would not give you a break - rather cupping your cheeks and pulling your lips onto his.

“Look” he breathed out calmly, his cheek barely brushing yours. “I feel stupid for even saying this, but: My girl doesn’t have to be a model. Beauty is a concept, dear. Everyone pictures something else when they think of it. And I think of you.”

You had already snuggled up onto his chest as he swiftly picked you up, your ear able to sense his heartbeat. Absentmindedly running your hand over his prosthetic one, you realized that you were not the only one who was self-conscious about their appearance.

But just like you never doubted the true beauty of your lover, neither did he.

“Y/N...You’re strong and smart and kind. No one had ever touched my heart the way you did. That’s all that counts.”

_______

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[doing-all-write]

don’t be a baby pt. 3

Pairing: Billy x Fem!Reader

Summary: Reader discovers that Billy isn’t actually dead. Which changes everything. But also, nothing at all. 

Read part 1 HERE

Read part 2 HERE

Word Count: 7K

Warnings: SMUT (only 18+ interact PLZ), swearing, blood, explosions, fighting and some SOFT FEELINGS FOLKS OH BOY.

A/N: SURPRISE! Here’s part 3 of don’t be a baby! I hope you all love this ending, I’m so happy with how it ended so please enjoy! 

💖💖As always, likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated! 💖💖

“You bastard.” 

The growl that came crawling out of her throat came from the basest, most animalistic part of her. Billy felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. 

"You fucking prick." Finally wrenching her hand from his, she reached up, ripping his hood off, fully bringing Billy’s feature into the light. 

Her jaw went slack, her complexion ghost white as Billy stood there. Knowing there was nothing he could say or do to make this situation better or less confusing. 

"You-you-no. No. This is impossible. There was a coffin. We had a funeral. Billy. I mourned you. I am still mourning you. What the fuck-"

"One found me on the ground after that last mission. He offered me this chance and-"

She hadn't even been aware she’d been moving away from him until her back hit the wall and her legs gave out completely.

Sliding to the floor, she pulled her knees into her chest, bringing her head down to take deep gulps of air as Billy stood over her Clenching and unclenching his hands, wanting nothing more than to wrap his arms around her but not knowing if that would make things better or worse, 

"I couldn't not take it love-(Y/N)" catching himself before he called her the old pet name, "It was the best option for me. I got a fresh start. I get to help people. It's steady work and I get to do what I love. Plus, you deserve someone better than me, it was only a matter of time before you realized it anyway..." His voice trailed off as she went stock still. 

~

Watching the monitors, the rest of the team jockeyed around One for position as he relayed what was being said in the room like a sports commentator, "Ooo, he just went for the 'you deserve better than me so I faked my own death' route! That one never works folks. Trust me, I've tried." Five rolled her eyes as Seven snickered. 

"DAMN!" Three exclaimed as the rest of the team broke out in screams as (Y/N) launched herself at Billy, fists flying and teeth bared. 

~

He didn't think she wanted him? He hadn't even asked her what she wanted, they had never even talked about it but only because his selfish ass had gone and written the ending of their story before it had even had a chance to start. The shock drained away, to be replaced by anger. It rose through her blood stream, lighting her body up, until it reached her eyes. She knew that the look in her eyes was feral, bordering on unhinged so it brought her some small joy to see his face blanche at the sight as her (Y/E/C) eyes met his blue ones.

"You no good, lying, piece of shit, COWARD." She had tried her best to keep her voice calm but the last word scraped past her vocal cords in a roar as she launched her body at him. 

The rational part of her brain knew she wasn’t thinking straight but the other part of her brain that had been wallowing in depression, hopelessness, anger and loss for 365 days was ready to fight. 

"You promised. You said you would come back to me and you didn't. But you've been alive this whole goddamn time and now you're in front of me telling me that you didn't think I would want you? And instead of talking to me, you pretend to kill yourself?" Each word was punctuated by a well placed kick, punch or slap on Billy's person. 

“I thought ghosting was bad but this takes it to a whole new LEVEL.” she shrieked as she aimed a left hook to Billy’s kidney. 

Those boxing lessons paid off, she briefly thought to herself. 

There was a part of Billy that had prepared himself for this kind of reaction. He wasn’t even trying to defend himself from her. He knew this was the least he deserved and honestly, he was glad she was even touching him at all. 

Continuing her onslaught on Billy, she hoped she left bruises. A physical representation of the bruising he had caused on her heart over the past year. Growling, she kept up a running commentary of what exactly Billy was since he had left her behind. 

Billy kept his eyes trained forward, as her fists kept up a steady rhythm on his body. Shoulders straight, hands loose at his sides, waiting for some kind of sign that she was slowing down. He risked a glance down and saw her cheeks glistening with tears.

His heart broke into a million pieces. He felt his throat tighten as the tears that he had tried to hold back, welled up in his own eyes. 

She knew distantly that the wetness she felt wasn't sweat. She just prayed that Billy didn't notice them. She didn't want him to think she was weak. As that thought crossed her brain, she realized her punches were getting softer and softer. The rapid pattern she had been striking Billy with had slowed considerably. 

"You son of a bitch. You promised." The last word came out in a ragged wisp as she felt the adrenaline leave her body and despondency begin to take its place. 

"Don't you love me?" Billy's arms reached for her instinctually at those four words. Pulling her frame into his broad chest, he felt her crumble against him as her sobs echoed throughout the room. 

"Shh, love, I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I know, rest now. I'm so sorry, my love." He whispered, letting his head drop down so his lips grazed her ear as he repeated his apology over and over again. She felt herself getting irritated with her own body when it gave an impulsive shudder at the nearness of him. 

Distantly, she realized that the months of chasing the spark she had with Billy with other men had been pointless. There was no way to recreate it because Billy was the spark. There was no way to recreate what they had because there was no one else like Billy and she didn’t want anyone but Billy.

Feeling the cold concrete of the ground seeping through her leggings, she registered that she must have sunk to the ground as Billy kept his arms around her, both of them huddled on the floor as she sobbed and half heartedly struck Billy’s chest with a weak fist, whispering a few choice phrases such as "fuck you" or "bastard". 

The last thing she remembered was Billy whispering the words ``I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry" over and over again as he rocked her back and forth as she felt herself drift into unconsciousness.  

~~~

It was the first sleep she'd had where she didn't dream. 

Eyelids fluttering open, she blinked the drowsiness away, forgetting about where she was and why she was on a cot with the desert sun piercing through the linen curtains over the window next to her.

Then it all came slamming back to her with such force that it pulled the air from her lungs. Crushing her knees into her chest she rolled into a ball, breathing into the cave she’d created for herself. Listening to her breath cycle through her body helped to ground her into the fucked up reality she’d woken up in. 

After a few minutes, she lifted her head and took a deep breath in. Exhaling, she swung her legs over the edge of the cot and walked toward a door that she assumed was a bathroom. 

Seeing that the door had been cracked open she hesitated, not wanting to barge in if someone was already in there. Leaning forward she tried to see who it was. 

Her breath was ripped from her lungs for a second time as her eyes were met with the broad expanse of Billy's back. He was twisting in the mirror, trying to rub gel onto the bruise that was blooming on his side from her fists. 

Guilt blossomed in her gut as she thought about how she had hurt him, then figured it was the least she could do to him considering he had caused her more pain and suffering than any one person should feel in their lifetime. 

A whine interrupted her thought process as Billy pressed too hard on the bruise that had flowered by his rib cage. The guilt came crawling back and she gently knocked on the door, pushing it open. 

"Do, uh, do you need help?" Feeling shy suddenly, she trained her eyes on Billy's feet which shuffled back and forth, as if trying to decide if he wanted to be closer to her or afraid she would hit him again.

“Yeah-yes. I need your help.” He cleared his throat, “I need you.” 

Studiously avoiding eye contact, she reached for the gel he had been trying to apply. She took it from his hands and rubbed some onto her palms. Feeling his gaze burning into her, she forced herself to focus on the task at hand. 

The scent of eucalyptus filled the air as she pressed her palms onto his skin. He couldn't fight the hiss that leaked out from between his teeth. 

Her lips quirked up as she whispered, "Don't be a baby." 

Their eyes met and he couldn't help what happened next, he kissed her. 

Rising up to meet the harsh push of Billy's lips against her, lust roared to life in the pit of her stomach. Grasping Billy's biceps she leaped into the air, wrapping her legs around his waist. Billy's arms flew up to wrap around her as they both pressed their lips into each other, moaning as she clawed at his back. He deposited her on the sink counter as he reached a leg out to kick the bathroom door shut, praying that no one tried to open the door because fuck. He wasn't going to stop kissing her just to lock a damn door. 

She pulled back, ripping a wimper from Billy. Smirking, she nipped at his bottom lip, then ran her tongue delicately over the red spot that was blooming there. Moaning, he thrusted his hips forward, trying to find something to help relieve the pressure building in his cock. Her moans mixed with his as she pressed her own hips forward.  

Billy's hands gripped her waist as he stepped in between her legs, pumping his hips forward, meeting her needy thrusts with his own. Gasping at the feeling of Billy's length rubbing against her, Billy let out a groan as he wound a hand into her hair, pulling it to expose the line of her throat as he nipped down it, humming with each whine she let out. 

Running her hands down his arms, she moved his hands to grasp at her tits, pushing them into his hands to drive home where she wanted him to touch her most. Chuckling, he ran his thumbs over her breasts, brushing the pad of his thumb over the peak her nipples made through her tank top. 

Keening she reached forward, grasping the edge of his joggers, pulling him forward as she nudged them down, grasping his cock at the base, stroking it. 

Billy growled at the action, grasping the waistband of her leggings, he wiggled them down her thighs till they pooled around her ankles. Kissing her deeply, he brushed the head of his cock against her folds, moaning when he felt the wetness gathering on the head. 

Reaching down, he grasped her thighs, pulling them apart so he could finally, finally, dip his cock into the folds of her cunt. Throwing her head back she let out a stream of curses, Billy biting his lip as he rolled his hips forward, both of them falling into a familiar rhythm as she dug her nails into Billy's shoulders. 

Fingertips sinking into the flesh around her hips, Billy growled into her mouth, causing her to clench the walls of her cunt around his cock. Whimpering, she moved her hand down to rub at her clit. Billy batted her hand out of the way, “Let me.” he whispered before pressing his mouth more desperately against hers, as he began drawing circles over the sensitive nub. 

Moaning into his mouth, she felt her walls clenching even tighter as she rocked her hips sloppily against his own, knowing she was close. 

Feeling her grip around his cock, Billy knew she was close and he thanked the gods she was because he was positive he wouldn’t have lasted much longer. Pumping faster, he dug his hands so hard into her hips she knew there would be bruises there. 

Not that she minded. 

Feeling the fire gnawing its way through her, she clung to Billy desperately as he gave a few last rocks, pressing against her clit in the most delicious way, she gave into the pleasure sweeping over her. 

Her walls clamped around him, giving him the final nudge he needed to spill into her. Both of them groaned as the last few waves of pleasure swept over them. Her head came down to rest on Billy's shoulder. His hands still clamped on her hips, both of them breathing each other's scents as their fury wound down. 

The silence was interrupted by the crackle of the intercom, 

"Kinda pissed I wasn't the first one to get into those Nike leggings." 

"Fuck off." came their simultaneous response. Locking eyes, they both broke into smiles as Billy gingerly pulled himself from her. Helping her down from the counter, he cleaned them both up, helping her step out of her leggings but leaving her underwear on. As he pulled his own joggers up, he gently pushed her into the room she had just left. Stumbling back into the room, she felt exhaustion wash over her again. 

Collapsing once more into the bed, the last thing she remembered before dropping back into sleep was Billy padding into the room and her hand reaching out for him. Grasping for it so she could be sure he wouldn’t leave before she woke up.

~~~

Billy became suddenly aware there was a weight on his chest.

Stirring, he felt the mass curl into him further. Sniffing, he caught a whiff of the shampoo (Y/N) always used and knowing it was her curled into him was almost enough to have him break down into sobs. 

Bringing a hesitant hand to her waves, he gently stroked them as her chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm. 

Aware of the hand stroking her hair, she did her best to keep still so he wouldn't stop. She knew that when she woke they would need to have a serious conversation about...all of it. About Billy being alive. Them being on the same team. Would she be able to trust him again? There was a lot to discuss but right now she wanted to lay on his chest and pretend that it was the day after their first day together, the future ahead of them bright and unencumbered. 

Feeling her arm start to fall asleep, she figured it was time to wake up and face Billy. 

Feeling her stir, Billy's hand stilled on her waves, moving down to land on her hip as she shifted so she could shoot a sleepy smile up at him, "Morning" she croaked out and Billy thought he had never seen something so adorable in his entire life. 

Smiling, he replied, "Morning," then frowned, "or afternoon. I have no bloody idea what time or day it is to be quite honest with you." 

Letting out a wheezy laugh she brought her head back down to his chest as he wrapped an arm around her, bringing her closer to him, feeling more grounded already with her next to him. 

He knew they should talk about what his being alive meant for them and for the future, but he wanted to be selfish and hold onto these few peaceful moments. He’d realized how greedy he was when it came to spending time with (Y/N) but he couldn't help it. Every second, every minute, he wasn't next to her felt like a moment wasted. 

Sighing, she turned her face up to him, "I guess we should talk about...well...the fact that you're not dead." Bringing his other hand up to rub down his face, Billy let out a sigh, "Yeah, I s'pose we should." 

"Don't sound too excited." 

"You gonna hit me again?"

"You going to keep having that tone with me?"

Cowing immediately Billy ran his hand over her back, "No, 'course not (Y/N). Sorry."

Sniffing she nodded to show she'd acknowledged his apology. Her next question came out on a sigh, "Why, Billy?"

"Why what?"

"Why would you do this?"

It was Billy's turn to heave a sigh as he chose his next words with care. He wanted, needed, her to understand why he did what he did. He needed her to understand it wasn’t because he didn’t love, it was because he loved her too much. 

"Because...well...One's offer was too good to pass up. Truly. I could do all my Sky Walker stuff but also be able to help people. It was my chance to make a difference in the world, to do some massive good on a global scale." 

Sniffing back tears, she nodded mutely as she absentmindedly drew circles over his torso. "I understand that Billy, but...why did you have to break your promise?"

The sharp intake of breath from Billy caused her to raise her head, shock flooding her veins as she saw tears start to leak out of the corner of his eyes. Raising her thumb up, she swiped them away. 

"I didn't want to, (Y/N). But...I had to. One explained to me how dangerous this job was, is, and how people will do awful things to anyone connected to you. I...I couldn't bear the thought of you being caught in the crosshairs or having something happen to you because of me." 

"Okay but, why didn't you talk to me about it? You just assumed I would be okay with it? That I would tell you One was right? That I wouldn't fight for you? For us? C'mon Billy. Give me a little credit."

"Yeah, because you took so well to my original job." 

Her body stilled as she realized he was right. Not that she was happy about it. Sighing she tilted her head up to look into his eyes, "You're right. But that was before. This is...now. I'm different. I've changed." 

Billy's eyes roamed over her face, memorizing every detail of it. He took stock of her eyes, how the light was boarded up tight, like they were the first few times he’d talked to her. When she smiled or laughed, he saw a flash of it peek through only for her to quickly shove it back down.  

As she studied his own face, she desperately wanted to let her guard down. It would be so easy to slip into how it should have been but there was something that was holding her back. She couldn’t figure out what it was until it hit her like a freight train.

What if Billy really died? 

Now that she knew his death had been a ruse and he was still alive, this time, if he did die in this life...there really was no coming back from that. Her heart tore in half at the thought. 

"Love..." he hesitated to see how she would react to the pet name. When she didn't hit him or tell him not to use it, he continued, "Love, listen. This is totally your choice. If you think we can do this, then, I'm all in. This will be our new life together. But if there's even a shred of an issue, then you get to walk out that door. And you'll never hear from me again." His heart leaped when she wrapped her arm around his chest more securely at that admission.

"I don't want that. But...Billy...what happens...if...if...you die. Again. For real." Her voice was shaky as she nestled her face into Billy's side, squeezing her eyes shut against the tears threatening to overwhelm her. 

Billy's breath left his lungs in a harsh whoosh as the full impact of that idea made his heart skip a beat. He hadn't even considered the possibility. Mainly because if he did, he would never do half the shit he did. 

"I wish I had a good answer love but, I don't." Hearing her sniffle he turned on his side, cupping her chin in his hand as he tilted her face up so she would look at him and know how desperately he meant the next few words, 

"I just, I have a feeling in my gut that I won't die though. The only reason I made it through half of these missions is because of the people around me and...you." Her eyes widened at this admission, 

"Yes, love. You. The very idea of you when I was off doing things that James Bond could only dream of," she snorted as Billy grasped one of her hands in his own, "is what made me more convinced than ever that I needed to get back to you in one piece. And if you join the team? Love, you will be the only thing that's going through my head when we're on a job together. The promise of being able to come home to you at the end of the day, to have you patch me up, to give me endless shit. I wouldn't want to miss any more of it than I already have. So please, believe me when I tell you, if you join this team? I will never, ever leave you again. I promise, (Y/N)." 

Raising her eyes to meet his blue ones, she felt her heart squeeze when she saw the tears streaming freely down his face. He had laid his heart bare for her and the love she felt for him in that moment made her glow with a warmth she hadn’t felt, well, since the last time they had been in a bed together. But part of her was still hesitant. She wanted to believe him but she couldn’t go through what she had already been through again. 

Billy knew that she was doing her best to figure out if he truly meant it. Sensing her hesitation, he placed the hand he had been gripping over his heart, "Do you feel that?” She nodded, feeling grounded as his heart beat beneath her palm, “Every beat is for you. For you and you alone, love. You bring me into the light and make me feel as if I deserve to be there. Please, (Y/N), do what you think is right but just know, that I want you, and only you, for the rest of my life." 

Crying freely, she nodded frantically as she curled herself into Billy's chest. Stroking her back, he let her cry as much as she needed to.  After a while, she pulled back, mumbling an apology for getting snot on his shirt as he laughed. Lifting her head up she realized she was right in line with Billy's lips. They were so perfect, reaching a hesitant finger out, she traced them. Feeling her heart beat harder when Billy’s breath hitched at the movement. 

Lowering her finger, she snuggled closer to Billy as she reached her lips up to press them against his own softly, tentatively, like she was asking a question more than providing an answer. 

Billy sighed as he brought a hand up to cup her face. Stroking the planes, he made sure to remember exactly how her lips felt as he wiped the last of her tears from her face. 

Deepening the kiss, she moaned softly into his mouth as he traced a line from her cheek, down her neck, down her side until his hand landed on her hip. Giving her a gentle nudge, she swung her leg over and straddled Billy as he adjusted himself underneath her. He looked up at her and was sure he had never seen a more beautiful sight. Clad in her black tank top and panties, no makeup, hair falling in her face, Billy's heart ached at the notion of being able to wake up to this sight every day of his life. 

Resting her hands gently on the broad expanse of his chest, she gave a small thrust forward, testing to see how hard he was. Gasping when she felt his full length twitch, he cocked an eyebrow at her, "You okay there, love?"

"Shut it." She mumbled as she leaned down to capture his lips with hers. 

"Make me" was his response as he kissed her back tenderly. Their movements were languid, the passion and tension that had gripped them last night burnt away only to leave the love, adoration and relief they both felt to be reunited with each other. Gently rubbing herself over his cock, he reached a hand down to nudge his pants out of the way. 

When his cock sprang free, she reached a hand down into her panties, running two fingers over her own slick, lifting her hand up to lick the juices off her fingers as Billy stared at her, slack-jawed.

Giggling, she moved her underwear to the side as she shifted her hips, positioning herself over his length then slowly lowering herself until he was fully sheathed inside of her. 

She gasped as his hands came up to caress the bruises he had left on her hips. His touches were feather light as she let herself adjust to the girth of Billy's cock. Both of them were making a conscious effort to not rush this time. They wanted to relish the feel of each others bodies. 

They both treated their bodies as dispensable when they were on a job, but with each other they gave into the feeling of being admired, of being adored, of being touched delicately and being delicate in return. 

As (Y/N) let herself enjoy how full she felt with Billy inside of her, Billy rubbed his thumbs over her hips, urging his own hips to stay still. He didn't want to rush this. He didn't want to rush her. He wanted to do this right. He wanted to make sure that she felt comfortable, that she could feel how much he loved and cared about her through his actions. 

In the same vein, (Y/N) wanted to treat Billy with softness. To show that she trusted him, that she wanted to be with him always and would trust him with her life. That he deserved to be cherished. Slowly, she started rocking her hips back and forth, finding a soothing rhythm as her fingers fluttered down to rest on Billy's stomach. 

Billy's hands caressed her thighs, brushing slow patterns, the roughness of his palms on her skin causing goosebumps to rise up as she started pumping her hips a little faster. Below her, Billy was making the most obscene noises she'd ever heard. Moans, whines and gasps, the whole time desperately searching for eye contact so he could watch her reaction to every movement of his body underneath hers. 

Leaning down to kiss him, he grasped her shoulders and flipped them so he was on top of her, using his forearms to prop himself up, staring down at her, he smiled, "You're the most beautiful woman in the world." Blushing furiously, she rolled her eyes so she wouldn't have to make eye contact knowing that if she did, her heart would explode with how much love she had for him. 

Leaning his head down, he nuzzled into the crook of her neck, inhaling the smell of her skin, the sweetness of her perfume, the slight tang of salt and something that was so unmistakably (Y/N). Pressing his lips into the curve where her neck sloped down to meet her shoulder, he heard her sigh and continued to nudge his hips forward. 

When her moans grew louder, he let out a small growl that made her clench around his length. Thrusting her hips up, she whined needily in the back of her throat. Smirking, Billy started pumping his hips faster into her. Feeling the pit in her stomach grow hotter, she ran her fingers over his head, feeling the pricks of his stubble rub against her palms. As he pulled back to stare into her eyes, she brushed the errant strands that had fallen in front of his eyes. She wanted to drown in their blueness. 

Continuing to thrust into her, Billy felt his orgasm building as he kept eye contact with her. Everything was quiet except for their breath. The sighs, the hitches, all of it was much hotter to Billy than any dirty talk could be. 

Feeling her heart beat start to speed up, she knew she was getting close. Biting her lip, she peered at Billy through her eyelashes, "Billy...I'm going to cum." 

Leaning down, she could feel the smile that was playing on his lips as he whispered in her ear, "Then cum for me, my love." With those words, the pit in her stomach expanded and swallowed her whole. Squeezing her eyes shut, she came with a sharp inhale and slow exhale as her hips rose up to meet Billy's as he pumped into her through her orgasm. Feeling her walls clench around him, watching her come undone below him, pushed him right over the edge. As the last vestiges of her orgasm left her, she felt Billy's hips pumping against her sloppily until with a final grunt, she felt him fill her up with his cum. 

Panting, they looked into each others eyes and she giggled as he smiled at her, looking a little dazed. Carefully pulling out of her, he cleaned them up. After pulling his sweatpants back up, he laid down on the bed, pulling her to his chest. 

Nuzzling her face into Billy she sighed. Feeling her body loosen and relax, Billy started to plant kisses all over the top of her head, moving down to pepper her cheeks with kisses, she giggled and squirmed away from him. Chuckling, he placed one last kiss to the tip of her nose, “C’mere love. We’ve been apart too long to have you so far away from me.” 

“Billy, I’m like an inch away from you.” 

“And that’s still too far.” he whined as he pulled her flush against him. Giggling, she flung her arm and leg over Billy’s form, attaching herself even closer to him, “Is this close enough?” 

“Not really but, it’ll have to do.” he mumbled as his arms wound around her, hugging her tightly into him. 

As they laid there, their breath evened out to match each other. And several hours later, when One was checking the surveillance cameras, that was how he found them. Entwined in each other, breathing in and out in synch, looking for all the world like pieces of a puzzle that had finally come together to create a whole picture. 

~One Month Later~

"Are you fucking kidding me?" 

"No, of course I'm not. You gotta get out of here and this is the best way to do it. C'mon." 

"Eight-" hearing her code name come out of Billy's mouth always made a shiver run down her spine. One time, he had growled it when they were having sex and the orgasm that’d ripped through her when it happened caused her to see God.

She had been lovely. 

"Four. I believe in you." Billy pulled up short as he heard those four words crackle through his earpiece. Then, 

"You two need to cut the foreplay and figure out a legitimate way of getting the fuck out of this building before it blows." 

"Hey, One? Why do you need to cockblock us at every opportunity?" (Y/N) laughed.

"Shut it Eight or I'm going to let you explode in this building." 

"You would miss my witty banter though. No one else can keep up with you like I can."

"Correction, no one wants to keep up with him like you do." Was Five's dry reply as she prepped the medical gear sitting in the getaway car. Shrugging, (Y/N) couldn't find fault with that statement. With a final ding, the files finished uploaded to the flash drive. Pulling it out, she gingerly stepped over the four guards that had rushed to greet her. 

Slipping into the hallway and gently closing the door behind her, she rushed down the hallway, looking first right, then left to see if Billy was there. She heard a thud to her right and drew her gun as she turned to aim it at whoever was trying to sneak up on her. 

"Gotta say, I'm afraid but also a little turned on." 

It was Billy at the end of her barrel, holding his arms high. 

Holstering her gun she rolled her eyes, "When aren't you feeling like that?" 

"Good point, it's been my constant state since you joined the team."

Laughing, she grabbed his hand and started running down the hall of the home of the mobster they’d been infiltrating. He’d been a kingpin in one of the biggest sex trafficking rings in the world. But they had busted him, and it, wide open. (Y/N) had just leaked all of his documents to the FBI and to all major news sites, while downloading a copy for herself. The rest of the team had been making sure she had clear access to the computer and had been extracted awhile ago, it was just her and Billy left.  

As they raced down the hallway, they felt a rumble, then, 

BOOM. 

An explosion rocked the building, bringing them up short, as they looked at where the staircase used to be. 

"Well, fuck." 

Feeling something tugging her arm, (Y/N) looked away from the inferno to Billy tugging her towards the window, "Trust me?" 

"Always." 

Smiling back at her, he gripped her hand tighter as they both took off for the window. As a second explosion racked the building, the glass erupted as they launched themselves through the window, body's rolled tight as they aimed for the bunting on the building across from them. 

~~~

"FUCK does that hurt. Jesus Christ." 

"You do this every time I have to patch you up. Why aren't you used to this? Better question, why do I still patch you up?"

"Because it's how we fell in love in the first place and you love taking care of me."

"Shut up" was her mumbled reply. Billy smiled smugly as he snuggled deeper into the chair he was seated in.

After they had landed on the bunting, rolling and thumping onto the street, they’d pushed themselves up and leaped into the getaway car as Two peeled out and away from the smoking wreckage. 

They hadn't even noticed the scraps and cuts they’d acquired until the adrenaline had flowed out of their system and Five was yelling at them, telling them what fools they were and how dumb could they be. 

Laughing, Billy drank in (Y/N)'s bright eyes, her mouth stretched into a smile as she hurled insults back at One and flirted shamelessly with Seven. He had slipped a hand onto her thigh with the first wink she’d aimed at Seven. Ignoring the weight of his hand on her thigh, she continued their banter. With every remark, wink or playful nudge, he moved his hand up her thigh until finally, 

"Your hand is basically on her pussy can you two please get a room." Three groaned. 

Two smacked him as (Y/N) blushed furiously, batting Billy's hand off her leg as Billy laughed, flicking his tongue over his lips. 

Getting back to HQ, they tumbled out of the van. Voices overlapping and mixing with each other as they stumbled back to safety, everyone ready for a well deserved rest. (Y/N) was listening to Five explain the latest state of the art medical equipment they’d gotten when she felt the roughness of Billy's palm engulf her hand. Smiling, she squeezed his hand, feeling his palm press harder into her own and giving her butterflies all over again. 

"That's even grosser than earlier." Seven snorted at One's comment but felt a tug in his heart at how easily they had slotted themselves back together. 

~

They had emerged from the room they’d been in a few hours later, only to be met by whooping, pats on the back, congratulations being passed around and One loudly declaring how impressed he was with how they "banged it out." 

Rolling her eyes she’d put her hands up, "Listen. Before this goes any further I just want to let you guys know what my decision is."

Billy's head had snapped up at that comment. Eyes widening he felt his stomach drop, she’d never specifically said what she had decided on. Feeling unsteady, he braced his hands on the back of a chair, sure he was going to snap it with his grip. 

The air in the room became thick with anticipation. Everyone stilled to hear what her final verdict would be. 

"I'm in. All in."

Her words were meant for everyone but her gaze stayed glued on Billy. The smile that broke across his face was enough to make her smile as his lips connected to hers, the rest of the room breaking into cheers and whoops and then disgusted groans as Billy deepened the kiss. 

~

Since then, she had fit into the dynamic of the team like she’d always been a part of it. This had been their first official mission with her on board and they were all pleased with how it went. One even offered her a compliment on her competency during the debriefing. 

(Alright, so it was a backhanded compliment but that was as good as it was going to get with One.) 

Now, she and Billy were back at their shared airplane husk at HQ. Billy's favorite part of their place was the cross-stitch she had done that said "Husk Sweet Husk" with an airplane underneath. It warmed his heart every time he saw it. 

Billy was in a chair as (Y/N) sat next to him on the same stool she had perched on the first time he arrived at her apartment. Five had taken care of the larger cuts but she still liked to patch him up whenever she could. It made her feel closer to him and it allowed them to come down from missions together. 

"Would you stop squirming? I swear, you're worse than a toddler."

"I'm just trying to keep your skills sharp, love."

"You're about to meet the sharp end of my knife if you don't stop fucking moving."

"And there's that sharp tongue I fell in love with."

"Oh shut up." She smirked as a blush climbed up her cheeks, causing Billy to lean forward and pepper them with kisses as she threw cotton balls at him.

"I give up! You're impossible and on your own to patch yourself up."

"C'mon love, don't be a baby." He snickered as he grabbed her hand to pull her into his lap.

Tucking her head under his chin she pouted, "You know that always works on me, that's not fair."

"Who ever said anything in this relationship is fair?" He tickled her sides lightly until he heard a giggle leave her mouth. Smiling he pressed a kiss to her head as she snuggled deeper into his chest. Winding his arms around her, he squeezed her close. Their breaths synching up as they watched the last of the sun dip below the horizon. 

Five minutes or an hour later, she wasn’t sure, she finally shifted with the intention of getting up when she heard Billy hiss. 

Looking up at him with confusion, she furrowed her brows, "What?"

"You can't do that, love"

"Why not?" Shifting again she felt something poke her and let out a gasp, "Is that-?"

"It's definitely not my gun so yes. I am very happy to see you." 

Laughing she unfolded herself from his arms, "Okay, sorry. I won't do that unless we're spooning and then I'll just 'accidentally' wriggle my butt around until you get hard again."

"It won't take long." The husky quality of Billy's voice caused her head to snap up. His eyes were hooded, boring into her own. The air between them thick with lust.

It had been like this ever since they’d been back together. Everything was a sexual innuendo or an excuse to touch each other. Seven thought it was because of how sexually frustrated Billy was after not getting laid for so long but they both knew it was because they needed the reminder. 

Every caress, touch, kiss and sigh against each other's skin was a reminder that this was real, they were with each other. Every time Billy would grab her hand under the table during a meeting a jolt of electricity shot through her. 

And every time (Y/N) brushed up against Billy or laid a hand on his back to move past him, his cheeks would flush, remembering that she was close enough to touch and he could touch her any time he wanted. 

Neither of them took for granted the simplest things anymore. Passing touches, kisses on the cheek, hugging, holding hands, it all signified something bigger for them. That they could reach out and touch each other whenever they could. Every morning that they woke up, entwined in each others arms was another day that was going to be good, because they had woken up where they belonged. 

(Y/N) broke their gaze first, cheeks burning as she shuffled back and forth, "Umm, Mark texted me by the way. He, Mary and Jean are going to FaceTime with us later so we better not get too heated." 

"Why does your brother cockblock me at every possible time?" 

"Because I'm his sister, it's practically his job."

It’d been tricky to navigate the after-math of the discovery of Billy's demise. She knew that no one knew if she was dead or alive but after negotiating with One, she talked him into taking Mark and Jean onto the team. Which hit another snag when they found out that Mark and Mary had started dating. 

One had thrown his hands up when this knowledge came to his attention and cursed the day he brought this, "cluster fuck of a circus" into his group. Begrudgingly he had allowed Billy's mom, sister, Mark and Jean to come to HQ. As soon as they stepped foot in the plane, he had put the fear of God into them about this job, the dangers and how it was of mortal importance they keep their "fucking mouths shut." At which point, he had gone to the door, flung it open and walked out, "Oh and by the way, here's the problem that started this whole mess." he called over his shoulder as Billy walked into the room, sheepishly holding his hand up in a meek wave. 

(Y/N) had let him have that moment alone. She figured that would muddy the waters and besides, everyone in there already knew she was alive and okay. They deserved to have time with just Billy. To process, to understand. It had killed her to wait for them to emerge from the room but it had been worth it when she saw Billy and his mother emerge from the room, their eyes red rimmed from crying, arms around each other. 

Mark and Jean worked remotely most of the time. One would call them in for missions occasionally but they stuck to ground work and passed information off to One when need be. 

Mary and Billy's mom kept quiet, still letting everyone believe that Billy was dead but buoyed by the fact that they could FaceTime him whenever they wanted. (Y/N) also knew that One sent updates to Billy's mom whenever he could and paid for her to come out to visit Billy at HQ when they were between missions. It warmed her heart and made his snarky comments easier to put up with. 

Sighing, Billy hauled himself out of the chair, ambling towards the bathroom, "Well, come on then, better make the shower sex quick." He clamped his hands down around her waist as he nudged them towards the bathroom as her laugh rang out, bouncing over the sand dunes. 

~~~

"FUCK. BILLY!" 

With a final moan, Billy came inside (Y/N), both of them breathing heavily as they came down from their highs. After cleaning up, Billy collapsed into the bed, unfortunately landing right on top of her.

"OOF. Billy, c'mon." Shoving weakly at his form she knew it was a lost cause as he nuzzled his face into the crook of her neck.

"S'comfortable. You should just try to be less comfortable to lay on top of." 

"How would that even work?" 

"Get rid of your boobs."

Gasping, her hands flew up to her chest, "You know these are the money makers!"

"Of course I know that, love. Seven and Three know it as well."

Smacking his shoulder they both chuckled. As their breathing steadied, Billy rolled off her, bringing her into his chest where they snuggled deeper into the blanket they shared. Just as their eyes were closing,

BANG BANG BANG

"C'mon you two. Quit fucking for two seconds, One has a new mission for us."

Groaning, she buried her face into Billy's chest, "Tell One he can go fuck himself."

"You can yourself, darling. In about two seconds."

Dragging her body from the warm nest they had made, she stepped into the first pair of sweatpants she found on the ground, "Remind me again why I agreed to do this stupid job?"

Feeling Billy's hands on her shoulders, she twisted around only to be met with a deep lingering kiss from him, "Because I love you. And I can't do this life, or any life, without you being right next to me."

Pressing her forehead against his she smiled, inhaling deeply, "I love you."

"I love you, too. Also I'm so going to beat you to the control room."

Wha-?" her sentence was cut off as Billy raced from their husk, sprinting across the sand as best he could. An indignant snort left her as she took off after him, their laughter bouncing over the sand. Billy glanced back at her and didn’t know which was brighter, the full moon hanging above them or the warmth that radiated from (Y/N)’s laughing eyes as she raced to follow him to the ends of the world. Reaching a hand out, she grabbed his own as he tugged her forward into their next adventure. 

~~~

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[yandere-daydreams]

The dog piece was bakugo was too sad qwq plss pretend fix with the pupper growing close to reader perhaps only acting as a guard dog to the reader or possibly lots of angst where reader does stay away from them until the pupper gets some i love reader juicee

My love for pitbulls,,, is even greater,,, then my need to answer requests,,, I can not change who I am and I do not intend to (here’s a link to the first part, by the way).

Three months. That was how long you lasted.

Princess grew steadily, eating as much as Katsuki would let her and tearing through the apartment on a daily basis, sleeping at the foot of your bed every night and going to Katsuki’s agency during the day, quickly becoming a favorite among his fans (according to the letters he’d proudly read to her, anyway). She was never hostile, never growling and hardly barking, even if she was a menace to anything stuffed and low enough for him to reach. Katsuki wasn’t nearly as strict of a trainer you would’ve expected, only teaching her basic commands (sit, lie down, attack, etc…) and spoiling her whenever he got the opportunity. Her custom, plush-lined collar was proof of that, as far as you were concerned.

You didn’t know whether to be jealous of him or her, sometimes. You envied how much attention he lathered on her, not making Princess beg and plead for the slightest bit of autonomy. She was allowed to go outside, to see other people, to be more of a human than you were. Similarly, you wanted to be part of Princess’ life, if only to have another living, breathing creature around who didn’t treat you like a piece of glass. She was always so close, staring at you so often and so sweetly, you wondered if you could just reach over and pet her, if only for a second.

Then Katsuki would say something, or nudge you, or make it clear that you weren’t the one making the rules, and you never would be. No, you’d always be stuck obeying him. 

Then again, Katsuki wasn’t always home, either.

It’d been one of those days, when Katsuki woke up feeling crazier then he usually did, pulling out your old tether and insisting on locking you up in the master-bedroom until he got home. The remote for Katsuki’s flat-screen was left out of your reach, and you could only read for so long until the words began to blur together. Eventually, you were left to lie on your stomach, lamenting your situation while staring at the open door.

You hadn’t realized Princess was left at home, not until she wandered into the open doorway, sniffing and wagging her tail, eager to find one of the toys she’d left somewhere around the house. When she saw you, she paused, sitting and panting in your general direction.

“I’m not allowed to pet you,” You grunted, voice muffled by the comforter. “Bakugo says you’ll bite me.”

Princess, once again, wagged her tail.

“But, Bakugo isn’t home.”

Her ears perked up, and she tilted her head to the side.

“And you’re not going to go away, are you?”

She didn’t.

It was over by the time she jumped on the bed, licking at your face while you laughed, trying to push her away playfully, which only resulted in more licking, which just meant you had to play with her… and scratch her ears, and kiss her little black nose, and let her cuddle into your chest, because Katsuki wouldn’t approve of letting you move an eighty-pound sack of clinginess and adorability. Instead, you did the safe thing, letting her curl up at your side, lazily petting over her fur until you found your eyes closing, falling asleep as she did.

In comparison, your awakening hadn’t been nearly as peaceful.

Your eyes shot open abruptly, a hand pulling you out of your impromptu nap and shoving you against the mattress, Katsuki holding down your wrists as you writhed and kicked instinctually, Princess whining at the disruption, pawing lightly at her owner’s back. If he noticed, he didn’t care, glaring so fiercely, you flinched back when he exhaled.

“I tell you not to do one thing,” He mumbled, his voice so low, you could barely hear him. It was more for himself than for you, his anger already damn-near tangible. Your wrists cracked under his grip, his gantlets the only part of his hero-costume he’s bothered taking off. You’d almost forgotten how much that mask scared you. Almost. “Everything I do is to protect you, do you know that? I’m out there, fighting villains every day to make sure they don’t find and hurt you, but apparently, you can’t even stay away from something dangerous in your own home.”

You shook your head, still partially disoriented. “Bakugo, I-”

“Princess could’ve attacked you! Sure, she’s alright now, but you could’ve provocked her! She’s still a puppy!”

You pursed your lips. The dog who he seemed so afraid was currently whimpering and nosing at his side, just trying to stop him from being so loud. “She’s perfectly-”

“I’m doing this to keep you safe, but maybe I should start dragging you to my agency on a leash, too. I try to leave you unsupervised for one day, and you broke my trust the moment I turned my back-”

“Bakugo!” You were the one to cut him off, this time, balling your hands into fists. Trying to present yourself as his equal was only getting harder, these days. Reluctantly, Katsuki shut the hell up, scowling but staying quiet, much to your relief. Still, you didn’t let yourself relax. “Look at me. Really closely, now. What do you see?”

He looked confused, for a moment, his answer coming carefully after he scanned over you. “...nothing?”

You released a breath you didn’t know you were holding in, letting yourself sink into the mattress. This time, you dared to met Katsuki’s eyes, not backing down when he bared his teeth. “Exactly. Nothing. We were home together all day, and the worst thing she did was tear a hole in one of your shoes.”

“Fuck, the nice ones?” He released you, reflexively, throwing a glare in Princess’ general direction before turning back to you, watching with a piercing gaze as you pushed yourself up, hiding behind a stern frown and crossed arms. Neither of you spoke, for a minute, just staring in a silent, tense stand-off. It was an improvement to the screaming matches the two of you used to have, but not by much.

Katsuki was the first to relent, waving a hand, letting Princess past him. The puppy didn’t hesitate, lapping at your face while she checked over you, eventually returning to Katsuki’s side, finally greeting the Hero with all the enthusiasm she usually did. “A few guys at work wanted to train her to search people, or tackle criminals,” He sighed, grudgingly giving her a light pat. “The goddamn softie would let them go for a treat, though. We couldn’t even get her to bite the trainer they brought in.”

You forced yourself to smile, but there wasn't much else you could do. There wasn’t much you were able to do.

Katsuki was the one who made the rules.

You just had to obey.

[emeraldwaves]

Title: With Blue Flames and Ice we Freeze For @villainmonth Day 3 - Lies Pairing:  DabiGeten Rating: T Word Count: 3, 755 Read on Ao3 Summary:  

Living in Hell isn’t Dabi’s first choice, but after getting kicked out of Heaven, he’s stuck. It’s a pain in his ass, especially when his father forces him to undergo the Trials of Hell in order to prepare him to be the next King of Hell. Dabi isn’t particularly interested in facing the various ‘Sins’, but this is his 'fate’. With Geten to guide him, Dabi suffers as they descend together into the depths of Hell.

Thank you to @amaisenshi and @ohmytheon for reading this over <3

Walking with his hands tucked into his pockets, Dabi follows behind Geten. She's quiet, though there's the gentle crackling sound of ice forming wherever she steps; like glitter lining the cavern floor.

"I don't know why I need a guide," Dabi speaks finally, following her down the winding path. The pathways down to the depths of hell aren't exactly complicated. Even though he's never been here, it doesn't mean he can't follow a damn path.

Geten turns her head, her eyes scanning him up and down. A small scoff slips between her lips. "Don't think of me as a guide then," she says. "Think of me as a judge."

He doesn't see how that's better.

"Really I'm here to judge you," she says bluntly. "So it's a more accurate title."

"Great," he mutters. "What is there to judge me on? I fight a few Sins and then we can both move on."

She stops suddenly, the ice curling around her boots. She turns her head over her shoulder, her piercing light blue eyes staring at him with an icy coldness. "Do you think that's what this is? Win a few fights?" She clicks her tongue and turns away, walking forward.

Groaning, Dabi rolls his eyes. "Shouldn't you be the one to tell me, oh trusted guide?"

"Wow, look at that! You're lazy too, along with being an asshole," she snorts. "As your judge, it's my job to see how you... react to these trials," she says finally. "That's all I'll say about it. The rest is up to you to figure out as we go."

"This is so fucking stupid," he hisses, walking past her before running into an invisible wall, his nose slamming against the stopping point.

"You really are, aren't you?" she hums, a small laugh leaving her lips. As pretty as her face is, Dabi is ready to punch her with how damn smug she's being.

She waves her hand upwards, the ice trailing up the invisible block as it covers a large door, turning it an icy blue color. Geten stands in front of it, gentle snowflakes falling around her pale white hair. He doesn't know how she's able to conjure such magic when they're in Hell, but he's not that interested, and he wouldn't expect her to answer him anyway.

"You ready for the first trial?" she asks, resting her palm on the handle of the door.

"Mmm," Dabi hums, shrugging. "I don't have much of a choice, do I?"

This whole thing is stupid. He wonders what would happen if he just forfeited now. Somehow he knows his father wouldn't actually let him do that.

"Guess not," Geten says, swinging the door handle open.

The doors push open revealing a large square room, not much different from the throne room. The cavern is wide and spacious and in the back sits a tall, golden throne. Dabi squints stepping inside of the space, when he realizes a man is sat upon the throne. One leg drapes over the arm, the other gently tapping on the ground. Black wings spread out behind his back, covering the majority of the throne and one arm is wrapped around a figure standing in front of him.

The closer Dabi gets, the better he can see the smug smile pulled across the man's features, horns curling from his head. But his focus isn't on the man in the chair. Oh no. It's on the woman he has his arm wrapped around, his palm cupping at her half-exposed ass cheek.

"Fuyumi," he mutters. "What the hell are you doing?"

He knows his sister is trying to be more... demonic, but this... is ridiculous. Her lower half is only covered by thin panties and her breasts are barely covered by a small bikini top. She glances over her shoulder, the horns on her head flowing backwards and curling in front of her ears. Her eyes are pitch black and the small demon tail flicks back and forth, the edge of it sitting just above her underwear.

"What? I don't get a hello?" The man asks, standing up from the throne, his wings outstretched as he drapes his arms around Fuyumi's hips. His palm cups at her ass and she leans towards him, her arms wrapped around his neck, her breasts now pushed to his chest.

"Hawks," Dabi snorts. "What the hell are you doing with my sister? And what the hell are you doing here?"

Hawks laughs, sliding his hands up her bare sides as he leans in to kiss her. He pulls her body flush against his and presses their lips together. His hands cup her cheeks and he kisses her deeply, her tail swishing back and forth with excitement. His dark black wings spread out and wrap around them, keeping Fuyumi close to him.

"Isn't it obvious?" Hawks asks, tilting his head towards Dabi.

Fuyumi moves even closer to him, tucking her head against his chin. It's like she's a completely different person with him, under some spell. Is Fuyumi playing some kind of prank? Has she known how to be a demon this whole time? If that's the case, she needs to stop acting like some kind of novice.

"You're a trial. You. An archangel," Dabi says, snorting.

"Do I look like an angel to you?" Hawks asks, running his tongue up the side of Fuyumi's neck, stopping at the side of her lips.

"Not exactly. You look like you're about to put your angel dick in my sister and I don't appreciate that."

Hawks lets out a sigh, pecking his lips against Fuyumi as keeps his arms locked around her "Do you really think your sister would wear something like this?" Hawks asks. His thumb slips under her panties, brushing over the bare skin of her backside.

"If you corrupted her, maybe."

"Nah," he smirks. "That's just what I wish she would wear." He holds up his hand, snapping. With a sad look on his face, he watches the fake Fuyumi disappear in front of him.

Dabi clicks his tongue and shoots his gaze towards Geten. "Is my trial to not kill this idiot?" he asks. "Because he's about to be a fried piece of goddamn chicken."

"You can do what you want. I'm just here to observe," she hums, shrugging when Hawks shoots a glare her way.

"Aw c'mon Dabi," Hawks laughs. "I was just having a bit of fun."

"By shoving your tongue down my sister’s throat in front of me?"

"Yup," he says, popping the 'p'. With the flap of his black wings, he rises into the sky, twirling around until he's directly in front of Dabi's face. "Did it... piss you off?"

With a growl, Dabi lunges forward, blue flames barely missing Hawks' face as he floats backwards. "Why the hell are you here? You're an archangel."

"I'm not here to fight." Flapping his wings gently, Hawks floats in the air, crossing his legs. He clicks his tongue, shrugging casually. "But even archangels are not exempt from Heaven's laws.

"So you fell," Dabi asks, a laugh slipping from his lips. "How the mighty have fallen. I'm surprised it took this long. Someone as obnoxious as you probably should've fallen sooner."

Dabi had known Hawks during the short amount of time he spent with his mother in Heaven. The man was so damn righteous, always doing the right thing, upholding Heaven's laws; that was his job as an archangel.

Hawks had always been one of the more casual angels, but he still took his job seriously and was respected by All Might and many of the other leading archangels.

Obviously something happened, since Hawks stands in front of Dabi, wings black, horns out, a small demon tail swishing back and forth behind him. Hawks is a demon through and through... and he obviously represents some sin. Is it Dabi's job to figure that out? Is that part of the trials?

"What happened?" Dabi asks, his face smug. He's deriving far too much pleasure from this.

Hawks lets out a long sigh, his black wings fluttering behind him. "Do you know that archangels keep their wings when they fall? At least, for a little while… To remind other demons and angels of how bad they were. They broke the very rules they were supposed to uphold." He lowers himself to the ground, slowly walking towards Dabi.

They're going to have to fight. Ultimately Dabi will have to prove his worth somehow and his father always wanted to make sure he was physically fit and obviously it was for this moment. He's on guard, raising his hands as Hawks slowly walks to him.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"I'm showing how I fell. It's probably not in the way you think."

"What the fuck does that mean? Don't be a cryptic bastard," Dabi snaps

Hawks stops directly in front of him, raising one had to place it on Dabi's face. With a sigh, he presses his fingers to Dabi's forehead.

"I fell in love."

~~

"Takami! Were you listening?" All Might's voice boomed, making Hawks jolt up, blinking.

"Of course I was," he said.

"So you'll train him?" All Might asked.

He was trying to pay attention. Really, he was.

"Yeah, yeah I'll train Tokoyami," he said.

"Taking on an apprentice is a very big deal-"

"It's fine. I can handle it." Hawks said, his gaze flicking back to the grace pools. It was only because she was there. Todoroki Fuyumi, beauty, grace, an exemplary angel, and it was impossible for Hawks to look away from her.

All Might followed his gaze and immediately let out a sigh. "Hawks. Remember, you must cleanse your mind of any impure thoughts. I know you are a very strong archangel, I only ask you to-"

"I know, I know, keep your resolve strengthened. Got it."

"I don't want to see any of my archangels fall," All Might muttered.

"I promise I won't fall, I'll train Tokoyami, everything will be fantastic. You can count on me and all that, yada yada blah blah," Hawks sighed.

All Might, rubbed his forehead, glancing back to where his gaze had fallen on the young woman by the grace pools. "Be here tomorrow to work on things with Tokoyami."

"Yup, got it, tomorrow!" he said, flapping his wings once before zooming off towards the large grace pools.

Fuyumi stood by the center grace pool, her hand pressed to her chest as she began to untie her white robes, letting them fall to the floor. Her shoulder-length white and red locks brushed against the back of her neck, flowing to her shoulders. Her skin was smooth and pale, her beautiful white wings flapped out behind her, and her curves, well, those were beyond perfect. His eyes trailed over her now exposed breasts, the way her tummy had the smallest amount of curve to it, sitting on her hips.

"Fuyumi!" he called out and she turned to greet him, her light blue eyes lighting up.

"Hawks!" she gasped. "I didn't expect to see you here tonight. Are you out of grace already?"

He knew he shouldn't lie, but with her they seemed to slip so easily from his lips. "Mhm, yeah," he nodded. "I needed to replenish to keep up with my duties."

"Right," she smiled. "Of course!" she turned back towards the pool, a look of sadness crossing over her face.

"What?" he asked, noticing the shift in her behavior.

She gently lifted her leg, placing her toe on the top of the water. "I have to replenish almost every day now. My body... can't sustain the energy."

"Once a day isn't so bad," he said. Another lie. Most pureblood angels could go at least a week sometimes more. If she was losing grace so quickly... it meant something was amiss.

She sighed, letting herself step completely into the pool, the water flowing around her naked body. Despite her words and what she had said, the water seemed to welcome her, flowing around her hips, flashing lights of yellow dancing on top of the water. She brushes her fingers across it and the lights follow her. The grace hadn't completely rejected her.

"I've been thinking, I guess..."

"Dangerous," Hawks said, reaching behind himself to untie his own robes, letting them fall to the floor as he rushes past her on the stairs, flopping into the water. "You shouldn't be doing that, according to the laws." A snort slipped past his lips, though he sure was one to talk.

His thoughts weren't pure, especially when it came to her. His eyes always wandered across her body, his hands itching to touch her, his lips aching to kiss her. These impure thoughts would make his wings turn black.

He wasn't supposed to have them. His body wasn't supposed to remember human tenancies like carnal desire of the flesh and yet here he stood in a grace pool with Todoroki Fuyumi, entranced by her body and desperate to release the beast inside of him that wanted her more than anything he had ever desired in the past.

But angels weren't supposed to have desires, especially not archangels.

"What have you been thinking about?" he asked, floating on his back in the grace pool.

"My brother..." she admitted quietly. "Well, Touya, specifically," she said.

"What about him?" Hawks asked, sitting back up.

"He's... he's all alone," she whispered, looking at the water in her hands. It turned a bright color, the grace slowly flowing into her chest. She gasped, turning her head to the ceiling as she pulled in a few deep breaths.

It looked painful, like her body wasn't quite sure what to do with the grace.

"What do you mean? I mean he's not in Purgatory," Hawks shrugged.

"No, but... he hates our father and right now he's all alone down there with him and I was... I was thinking about going. I don't know how long I'll last here anyway-"

She gasped when Hawks grabbed her shoulders, his hands clenching around her hard. "Fuyumi... you can't..." he muttered. "If you fall, you won't be able to come back. Not easily at least."

She gently wrapped her fingers around his wrists, smiling up at him. "It's okay. I know Touya needs me and... you're here to watch over my mother and brothers. It'll be okay," she whispered.

In a way, Hawks knew this was her way of saying goodbye.

Within a few sun cycles, Fuyumi was gone and Hawks felt a dull ache, throbbing, slowly eating away at his heart.

~~

"You're not supposed to be here!"

She told him this everything time, but it didn't stop Hawks from showing up on the border of Hell to see Fuyumi. Originally he told her he was reporting in, letting her know about her mother, but as time went on, it became less and less about that.

 "She's doing well!"

 "I think she misses you."

 "I tried to see her but Natsuo and her were busy."

 "I haven't had time but I wanted to stop by..."

The reasons grew farther and farther away, and every time she would greet him with the gentlest smile, so unfitting for a demon.

"You're not supposed to be here," she said, her lips curling into a large smile.

"But I am here, so let's make the most of it."

She reached up and gently brushed her hand over the white feathers on his wing. "I don't want you to lose these," she said.

"I won't."

He was an expert liar now. It was a hidden talent he had never expected to acquire.

Fuyumi smirked. "I'm pretty sure archangels aren't allowed to be this close to hell."

"And I'm certain that demons aren't supposed to keep wearing angel robes," he said, gesturing to her outfit. Even after being in hell for a little while, she still didn’t show her horns, keeping them hidden away.

"I-I dunno about that," she said, her cheeks flushing. It was so adorable when her pale skin turned a bit red, flushing from her embarrassment.

"It's true, you should... change," he said, gently running his finger against her bare shoulder. It made his body tremble and a shiver rolled down his spine. He wasn't meant to feel this way, wasn't meant to harbor such desires towards someone, and yet here she stood in front of him and all he wanted to do was take her into his arms.

"Hawks?" she whispered, looking up at him. Her cool, light blue eyes peered over the rims of her glasses. Her cheeks were still flushed, and she looked at him as if she was innocent. Being a demon she was supposed to be anything but, but Hawks wasn't sure how much this demonic persona suited her.

His chest began to throb, as if his feathers had sharpened and he was stabbing himself in the heart with them over and over. He wanted her. He couldn't deny how every instinct in his body screamed for her, begged to be near her... to touch her.

"Hawks!" she said, snapping him from his daze. "Are you okay? I told you it wasn't good for you to be-"

He lunged forward, cupping her cheeks and pressed his lips against hers. She tasted so sweet, like the taste of succulent strawberries on a summer day. A soft moan slipped from her lips and he felt the pain in his heart grow and grow until it felt like someone was punching him continuously.

It didn't matter what it felt like. He was kissing her and it made him want to sigh with joy.

"Hawks..." she breathed, touching her fingers to her lips. "You're going to... you... you can't- You'll fall!" she said.

"So be it."

~~

"You were in love with my sister," Dabi growls, stumbling backwards when Hawks pulls his hand away.

"I am in love with your sister," Hawks smirks, a yawn slipping from his lips. "I could show you more, but man, showing you this shit is tiring."

"You're a moron, you know that?" Dabi scoffs, rubbing his head.

"What? For falling in love? I seem to make your sister happy. In many ways," he says, a cocky chuckle leaving his lips as his dark wings flap back and forth.

"Disgusting. Stay away from her," Dabi clicks his tongue. He doesn't like imagining his sister making out with this angelic idiot.

"Aw c'mon," Hawks shrugs, "I think that would make her very sad. I mean she did fall for you, and you would take away something that makes her happy down here?"

Dabi snorts, turning towards Geten, blue flames flickering across his fingertips. "Can I kill him now?"

The white-haired girl blinks, as if she didn't expect Dabi to speak to her. "I told you you could do as you pleased."

"Look," Hawks says, "I don't want to upset Fuyumi and if I kick your ass, she'll be extremely disappointed, so let's just say you've passed my trial and move on."

"What the hell?" Dabi yells. "How fuckin' lazy is that?!"

"The faster this ends, the faster I can relax and spend more time with her," he says, letting his black wings flutter.

Dabi waits for a moment, expecting it to all be a trick. Even if Hawks was an archangel, down here, he's corrupt, he can do whatever he pleases and Dabi half expects this to be a joke. They're at a stalemate it seems, as neither of them go to make a move.

Honestly, the least amount of fighting he does, the better, Dabi thinks.

He begins to walk past Hawks and pauses, glaring at him. "If you hurt her, I will send you to Purgatory so fast-"

"You have my word, as the archangel I used to be... I won't. But... I am going to enjoy fucking her," he says, letting his words roll off his tongue.

"Ew!" Dabi snaps, and storms past him. "I don't wanna hear about that shit."

"I thought it would get you to move along your way faster," he says, laughing as Dabi heads towards the exit. "Whaddya know? It worked!"

"You're insufferable. I can't believe you're going to be here for an eternity too."

"Yup!" Hawks waves, "see you around, bro!"

Immediately, Dabi steps out of the room, happy to be away from that idiot for now.

"What a pussy," Geten snaps, slamming the door shut as she makes her way out of the room too. "Lazy fuck. This is what happens when you ask newly fallen angels for this shit. They don't know how to act demonic. He didn’t even do it right."

"So they are all supposed to fight me?" Dabi smirks, as if he's figured out the answer to the whole goddamn problem.

"I never said that," she hisses, making her way down the path. Even angry, her footprints leave ice wherever she goes.

"You didn't have to," he says, folding his hands behind his head as he casually strolls after her.

He’s not sure how he feels about Hawks dating his sister, but he doesn’t have time to think much on it. Hawks sure seems like he’s going to be a better demon than Fuyumi, so maybe he can help her.

Doubtful.

Dabi will deal with it later. He’ll torch Hawks’ as if he hurts Fuyumi. That’s the last thing his sister needs. Hawks seems happy, far happier than anytime he interacted with Dabi in Heaven. Strange, that somehow people ended up happier in Hell than they did in Heaven.

Even Fuyumi, who doesn’t belong here, who fell for him for some reason he can’t understand. He should ask her, but he’s still so angry she chose Hell over Heaven…

Maybe he shouldn’t be.

He knows he has to continue these trials, though he’s still not sure what they entail. His eyes trail up Geten’s back, watching her walk forward through the caverns. How much does she know? How much she’s allowed to say? She doesn’t seem willing to give up very much information.

He wants to get them over fast. The faster he finishes the trials, the faster he can start changing things and ruining the Hell his father is so proud of creating.

He can only hope these other trials will be as easy as Hawks made this one.

[roger1na]

careful ch7 - john deacon x reader

summary: you are a ballet student at the royal ballet academy. To pay for your tuition, you work part-time at the celebrity gossip magazine, Seven. One fateful day you’re sent to interview a band on the rise, Queen, post-concert and fall in love with the sweetest man on the planet.

word count: 2.4k+

warnings: swearing, some angst(tm)

author’s note: back at it again! honestly again, if you do dance ballet, sorry! my experience is minimal and taken mostly from my friends. as far as i understand, it can go overboard v fast but *shrug emoji*. also i’m p sure queen did not play on john’s birthday but y’know. it’s for the drama. (19.8.1974 really was on a monday thgh 👀)

chapter seven

Morning dawned with a cranky mood, a sweet dream of slightly crooked smiles and barky laughs dissipating as you got up.

Saturday was forecasted to be rainy and grey, as were your spirits as you opted for a cup of black coffee instead of your usual morning tea. The paper was filled with disappointing news and everything seemed bleak. The studio wasn't open on saturdays and you didn't want to work overtime. You finally had a free day.

You opened your leatherbound diary and took out your favourite pen, an expensive looking fountain pen, painted a lovely maroon with gold lettering on the side, pointing to the brand.

August 10th 1974

I finally kissed him yesterday. It feels like something was broken? A pact? A deal? Is there something happening here? What happens next?

There was a weird moment, last night. We were making out and he was there and we were against the apartment building door and it was already opening but I just couldn't have him inside. I'd break my poor little sixteen-year-old-self's heart. To have him stand there would just break the bubble. Don't know what I'm going to do now.

But… I do have feelings for him. I know I've been agonizing over it for the past few weeks but really, he's fantastic. I'm just silly for not being able to Use My Goddamn Mouth And Say It.

You stomped the last period to your sentence rather aggressively and the ink bled through the page. "Fuck," you muttered under your breath, dabbing at the ink with your pinkie, though you weren't quite sure how that would help.

You blew on the page gently to make sure the ink was dry before closing the notebook. It had a button on the front and a leather string on the back, which you could wrap around the button to keep the book closed. When buying it, you had scoffed slightly, but eventually, as you filled it with pictures and articles, the notebook became so thick it wouldn't stay shut without you pulling it close tightly.

You had filled it with so many memories. Polaroids of you in your costumes for your recitals, lunches with Rose and Pamela, cute flowers, poetry, lonesome calls for love you clipped out from the morning paper. Around mid-July, it started filling with heart stickers and lyrics from Queen, a flyer from their London show, pictures from the show you had developed with spare cash. You were fondly reminded of that saturday afternoon when you looked at the polaroid of John, grinning stupidly, staring into the camera lenses, but of course it felt like he was staring at you.

Look at you, your thoughts echoed, all sappy on a Saturday morning. But it didn't feel so bad anymore.

The radio filled the house with chatter as you cleaned thoroughly. Saturday was a day for organisation. Setting your calendar straight, doing your meal plans. Y/N Y/L/N was not a woman to be meddled with, not a woman to be messed with, you reminded yourself.

As you were setting up your vacuum cleaner the phone rang. You were huffing, trying to get the damn thing out of the closet, when it pierced the radio sound. But you were so tangled up in vacuum chords that you let it ring, hoping that if it was urgent, the caller would leave a message.

"This is Y/N Y/L/N. I'm probably out and about right now, so leave a message!" Your answering machine beeped.

"Hey, Y/N."

Your breath caught in your throat. It was John.

"Just calling to say, I had a nice time yesterday." Muddled voices in the background made him shush them. "Freddie, I know what to say, you can shut up," you heard him grumble.

"Your dance was… Fuck, I have no cool words to describe it. But it was, y'know, enchanting. Fantastic. I've never seen a recital before but I'm sure that's how it's done." There was a dramatic gasp in the background. "Oh Freddie, shut the fuck up you know I've never seen a ballet show."

"Anyway," he continued. "I hope we can see each other soon. We have a show, in like, uh, a week. Monday 19th. It'd be really great if you could come. Bye then."

The line clicked, and left you in silence. You were standing around, a bit lost in your apartment, until your grip loosened from the vacuum and it cluttered to the floor. You winced at the sound, before dusting yourself off. I'll call him back when I have an answer, you told yourself, although you knew well enough that Monday 19th was empty on your calendar, save for rehearsals until five.

And then, being the foolish girl in love, filled with nerves and sappy thoughts, you didn't call him back.

When your chores were done, the phone just loomed at you ominously. What were you supposed to say? 'Oh yes I heard your message I just didn't pick up, because I'm a big idiot?' 'Oh no, it's not you, it's me and my fear to commit?' You felt like a total mess.

Sunday rolled around, bringing work and training, exhausting hours in the studio. And you still couldn't call him back.

Monday came with a screeching of your alarm and sore muscles. You made the effort to pick up the phone but set it down fast afterward, as if forgetting his number, nerves tingling every where.

Tuesday was filled with appointments and meetings and lunches with friends and training which left you dizzy in the head, slightly insecure about your dance abilities. But anxiety coiled in your stomach as soon as you even looked at the bright red phone.

Wednesday was a nightmare.

It started off with a wake up at 4am, when not even the birds had begun their obnoxious singing. Trudging through the grey streets of London when the morning was chilly made you question a lot of the choices you'd taken to get yourself into this position.

The biggest question on your mind was that you had only been picked as an understudy, so what was wrong with your way of dancing the program? Frances, you didn't see her as inherently better than you. She wasn't chosen because of her skill, to you, she was chosen because of your lack of skill. And it made you sick. You were the second choice. Something was off.

Wednesday was a free training day. Coaches didn't come and fix postures, you were supposed to practice your own routine independently. With exhausting precision, you danced through all your individual parts in the dance. And with every misstep, you felt worse about it, accrediting your failures to your lack of talent, not your lack of sleep or the other million thoughts that swirled in your head.

Lunchtime was drawing near and the other girls tapped out with their obligations, wiping glistening faces on ratty towels they all kept lying around.

"Y/N! D'you want to grab lunch with me or can I go with Pam?" Rose called out to you, and then took a swig from her water bottle, waiting for you to answer.

You straightened your back and stretched, afraid you were losing time and then shook your head. "It's okay, I'll still be here for a bit, no point in waiting on me." A brief expression of concern passed in Rose's eyes but she said nothing.

"Mmkay. See you tomorrow, I guess," she waved before setting off behind Pam, glancing behind her shoulder before the dooor swung closed.

You went back to the beginning of the set and started again. And again. And again. You were losing all sense of time and direction as you jumped and pranced and posed and twirled and it wasn't until you saw the darkening of the sky outside that you realised you were in too deep.

Out of breath, you stopped to take a sip of your water. Your stomach felt empty and the water tasted bad in your mouth. Too metallic, and no longer cold after sitting around all day.

You took a deep breath and shrugged off the slightly increasing nausea and tiredness. "One more time, Y/N," you whispered to an empty studio. And Tchaikovsky's notes filled the room and you set off.

If anybody had been there to see, they would've been entranced with the way you moved, letting the rhythm carry you. But if they'd looked closer, they'd also see the tiredness in your eyes and the barely noticeable sluggishness of your steps.

You leapt gracefully and suddenly your focus was broken. Your head changed positions and you had to look down at your feet, flying in the air and as you saw your feet hit the ground, you knew you had made a mistake.

The shock wave wasn't instant, but the pain came as soon as you were aware that you were on the floor, after figuratively eating dirt. Your ankle throbbed and you felt miserable and alone on the hard floor of a cold dance studio on a sad wednesday night.

The tears came softly and silently, spilling over your cheeks and dripping to the ground. You still couldn't call John back, you still couldn't dance well enough and after five years of control you still couldn't balance your life. So there you sat, feeling sorry for yourself. That you could do very well.

The studio door creaked open softly.

"Y/N?" A soft voice broke the air.

What was he doing here? You quickly wiped your face and straightened your legs, wincing at the pain of your twisted ankle.

"Shit, are you okay?" He rushed to you and skidded on the floor slightly as he sat down, not graceful at all, eyes trying to analyse the damage.

"'M fine," you snapped, angrier than intended.

John flinched back in shock and you instantly regretted your sharp choice of words. He looked at his hands timidly.

"You don't look fine to me," he mumbled.

"I am. Really. It's just been a long day, and-" a sudden sob gurgled to your throat as you tried talking and you had to stop talking to let it pass, involuntary tears falling down your cheeks once again, leaving your face a red mess.

"Oh you daft thing," he muttered and pulled you into a hug. His cologne filled your nose and you breathed in and let the sadness and the frustration wash over you.

You felt stupid, because now, although you had ignored his calls and acted like a total prick, he was there comforting you again. "Stop being so nice to me," you mumbled into his tear stained shirt. It was a red checkered button up that was maybe two sizes too small. Sometimes you wondered about the last time he'd visited a clothes shop.

He pulled away slightly, to tilt your chin up to look into his eyes. "Why? You're acting so silly," he smiled gently and wiped your face slightly, tucking stray strands of hair behind your ears.

"Because I'm so stupid! I can't call you back, I say stupid things and I get nervous about kissing and I'm just so fucking…" you trailed off looking for the right word. "Not enough."

John snorted a little bit, trying to hide his giggling. You frowned at him. "'M serious! How're you getting anything but frustrated when you spend time with me!" This resulted in John laughing more.

"Stop, stop, I'll explode," his eyes were crinkling and his smile was wide. You had crossed your arms and were pouting now. He looked at you and his expression softened a little. "You think I don't enjoy spending time with you? Seeing you caught up in dance and loving it? Y/N it's part of all in. Dance is part of all in."

More tears came and you just couldn't stop them. "You're making me cry," you sniffled and wiped your eyes.

"Y/N…" He pursed his lips and smiled gently.

"I'm just not good enough in anything. Second best in dancing. Second best in working. Second best in a relationship."

"Shh," he hushed you gently. "It's not a competition. I know I'm lovely," he teased slightly.

"John!" You grumbled.

"I know, I know." He took hold of your hands. "Y/N, listen." He paused and then kissed your forehead.

"You're enough right here," and then he kissed your nose, "and here," and he continued kissing your face, your cheekbones, the corners of your mouth, your dimples, before landing in the center of your lips. "And everywhere. Just enough for me."

You blinked, the tears finally deciding to stop flowing. "But, I'm really useless at answering calls. I get nervous. And I haven't been in a relationship. Ever. And-"

"Listen," John grabbed your hands and pressed them to his face, his cheeks burning slightly. "That's life. Be careful with all that talk about not being enough. Nobody but you believes it."

"You don't know that."

"Well I don't believe it."

"Oh," you paused. "Thanks."

John burst into fits of giggles. "Hey!" You scolded him.

"I'm sorry, I'll stop, I promise," he grinned mischievously. "But who says thanks to like, a confession of affection?"

"I do." You pinched his cheeks. "Shut up, old man. When are you turning twenty-three again?"

John's eyes lit up. "Of course! That's the special show we're performing on monday 19th. My twenty-third birthday!"

"John that's so great! Of course I'll come."

"Thought so," he smiled.

"Old man," you teased. He booped your nose and pretended to be offended.

"Not all of us can be spry and young anymore," he whined.

"Oh sorry, Mr. Old Man."

John rolled his eyes. "Okay, time to take a look at that ankle. Are you going to be okay?"

He inspected carefully, but the pain had already begun to subside. "It was just a misstep. I'll be fine with a little ice and a tight gauge."

"Mm, if you say so."

"I'm serious! This happens to dancers all the time."

"Okay…" He trailed off then started trying to get up along with you, letting you lean onto him for support, though you didn't really need it. "Have you eaten today?"

"Mm, not really," you replied nonchalantly.

"Jesus, Y/N."

"What? It's been a busy day."

He shook his head, brown hair bouncing about slightly. ”I wish you’d take better care of yourself.”

”Usually I do!”

"I hope so. I like you in one piece.”

”How’d you know to come here?”

”Where else would you be, after going practically MIA for five days?”

”Oh,” you laughed slightly. ”Of course. You're kind of great, John.”

"Thanks." He replied, grinning.

You shoved his shoulder slightly, but felt your heartbeat slow down as you relaxed, wondering how you got to be so lucky.

***

taglist: @fourmisfits @deakysgirl @im-happy-at-home @obsessedwithrogertaylor @itsametaphorbriansblog @rhapso-kei @deacontaylormaymercury @queenmylovely @imgonnabeyourslave @weirdestmentalityphilosopher @thefatbottomedmay @heyyyyyyyleykiyoko @brujademente

[lizord-lord]

Splashing, Wading, Knee-Deep, Drowning

(Felt this was really the only opening for this chapter sjhdjsahhsfgsdf. I FINALLY GOT THIS GODDAMN CHAPTER DONE! I know it’s been a while, I got hyperfixated on TTS and then Locked Heart and now I have another AU in the works, (my friends are getting contagious) so this took a while because it was my botton pritority and inspiration was running dry. But tbh since this I’ve had a lot more growth as a writer-so the reason this was so hard was because the middle chapters of this story are kind of a mess and I’m the kind of person who needs a strict outline. So I need to write that down XD and that should help! Anyway, here we go...the first actual interaction, featuring a brief cameo from my lovely beta reader @poisonedapples, who puts up with Virgil’s blatant racism against his bird brethren. ON WITH THIS, FINALLY!)

Chapter One

Chapter Four

Warnings: Blood, falling out of trees?

Chapter Five

Roman wasn’t sure whether it was the blade or the shout that jolted him out of his stupor, but regardless, he jolted, eyes flicking back between the still-quivering blade and the piercing glare the stranger was directing his way.

Roman made a noise - halfway between shock and offense, as an equally heated glare spread across his own face.

“What am I doing? What are you doing throwing knives at innocent passers-by!” “Well excuse me for not being so comfortable with, I don’t know, someone pointing a goddamn crossbow in my face?”  The stranger’s voice was laced with spite and dripping sarcasm, emphasized by the assusing wave of his hand in the direction of Roman’s weapon.

It took the prince a moment to respond. Honestly, in his awe of the transformation he’d witnessed, he’d almost forgotten the bow in his hands. Though now, with the option of backing out on his rather...snappy introduction, or putting the bow down..he chose the former. For his dignity!

“Well it’s not my fault! I thought I was just hunting some random bird!”

The man seemed to pause at that-and Roman smirked at the small victory. But he quickly recovered, eyes trained just as sharply on the weapon as he spat out another jab at the prince.

“Well you aren’t! So mind putting that thing down??”

“I-” yes he would! “I will not! You just turned from a bird into a man, how do I know you’re not some-some dastardly magician lying in wait to terrorize the land?”

The stranger made a noise - a startled grunt, looking shocked for a second. And then his expression hardened even further. “You-You think I’m an evil sorcerer!? I was fucking cursed by one you moron! I’ve been here for like a month!” “And how would I know that? How do I even know you’re telling the truth?” Roman countered.

Well for one, he could see the rage twisting the stranger’s face.

“Well I don’t know, maybe because if I was an evil sorcerer I would have cursed you by now? That’s basically what they do, shoot magic at people just trying to get some food-kinda like you and that bow!”

The man took a step forward—rather brave considering how much the weapon seemed to set him off, and Roman was once again scrambling for a retort.

“Excuse me for wanting to have defense against a possible evil magician, I’m not still bothering you about this am I?” He took one hand off the weapon to reach behind him and pull the dagger out of the wall. He was distracted for a moment by the red gleam of a gem set into the pommel, considering the plainness of the dagger otherwise, it was likely spinel rather than ruby.

It was at that moment that he was yanked forward and the bow slipped from his hands.

Once Roman’s eyes registered that yes, the stranger had in fact just grabbed and taken his weapon (though luckily he looked completely at a loss as how to use it and was holding it under one arm with the bolt pointed down) he decided that the level of offense this dark stranger had committed was...incorrigible!

“Give that back this instant, you heathen!” he demanded, instinctually brandishing the dagger-though it likely looked a tad silly, considering he was doing so as if it was a sword...when he still had his sword at his hip. The other man did not comply.

“Sorry I don’t want to get shot!”

“I wasn’t going to shoot you!” Roman retorted, and to that, the stranger looked half surprised and half further annoyed.

“Then why wouldn’t you put it down if you weren’t gonna use it!”

...Roman actually didn’t have much of an answer for that. Not outside of ‘I didn’t want to’, at least. That would just sound silly.

“Because-“ he began, “Because—well, because it’s mine! Now give it back, you are stealing property of a prince!”

Now that properly surprised the stranger. He stepped back, posture losing a hint of its defensiveness..though his face still held suspicion.

“If you’re a prince, why are you hunting birds in the woods?”

“I needed a breath of fresh air,” Roman responded simply, but when the man still didn’t budge, he groaned and rolled his eyes, folding his arms across his chest.

“If you’re too much of a skeptic to believe what’s right in front of you, check the bow, it has my family crest carved into it.”

He was stared at for a few more seconds. But then the stranger lifted the bow back up, eyes scanning the pale wood.

“You could have stolen it,” he pointed out after a minute in a begrudging voice-and Roman has to bite back another groan.

“Why would I lie to a strange bird-man in the woods? I’m Prince Roman, and you are holding a bow that Count Logan Veritas gifted to me, kindly give it back,” Roman announced, unconsciously puffing out his chest.

There was a beat of silence. The stranger looked at him for a long moment, as if scanning his face. The suspicion faded, and a triumphant smile began to spread across the prince’s face—until something else made its way into the stranger’s expression. Something he didn’t place as deviousness until his bow went flying into the thick, twisting branches of the tree above him.

“WHAT IN MERLIN’S LIBRARY WAS THAT FOR!?” Roman screeched at the top of his lungs, sending a lone sparrow fleeing from its nest.He looked up, frantic, but the weapon had landed not in the section he could see—the inexplicably bare branches—but deep in the mass of dark green leaves.

The stranger didn’t answer. Instead he grabbed his dagger from Roman’s limp right hand—he must have cut himself from the hiss of pain—and was storming off into the trees before Roman could react.

Flabbergasted, the prince just stared for a long moment. Rage was replaced with nervousness, and with a frustrated growl of defeat, he realized it would be no use pursuing the man into an unfamiliar section of the woods just to give him a tongue-lashing or drag him off, and instead turned to the tree. Striding up to the thick trunk, he took a good look.

Prospects weren’t good. The branches didn’t start until at least twenty feet up and...wow, these trees really were immense.

He tried of course, to grip at the trunk and hoist himself up, but the bark was too smooth for any real hold. Roman’s hands slipped down it, and as undignified as it was, also attempted the ‘tree hugging’ method, but the trunk was far too wide. He slid down like eggs thrown against the wall..felt the part as well. At least he seemed to be alone again, unless he wasn’t and the stranger was watching? ...No, Roman resisted the urge to look over his shoulder and instead stepped back to circle the general area. Perhaps there was another tree he could climb into, and then cross the branches to get to the top of that one? Yes! The prince scanned the trees around..and his brief smile faded. There were trees with branches lower, yes, but none of them his height..

He thought the bow was lost for a minute, until he noticed the closeness of two trees behind him.

Roman’s grin appeared as an idea formed in his mind.

Turning and moving to stand between the two thick trunks, he placed his hands out to his sides and against the dark, smooth bark. And then he sucked in a breath—hoping with all his might that this would work—before jumping up into a split, letting out a whoop of victory as he felt the soles of his feet hit the trees. ...Maybe that hadn’t been the best idea, but he was doing it! So, Roman carefully brought his right hand up and placed it back higher on the trunk. Grinning, he repeated the process for his left hand, then right foot, then left foot, about three quarters of the way to the branches now...just a little farther and-

But as the prince reached up with both hands, he found himself losing balance. Wavering. And then suddenly, he found himself leaning ba-

Roman shrieked as he suddenly found himself plummeting to the ground, trying desperately to stick his arms out to catch himself between the trees-

His exhale was shaky, and his palms burned like fire from skidding down the bark, but he hadn’t cracked his skull open in the middle of the woods and that was far more important.

Despite what had just occurred, Roman gritted his teeth and continued upward. It hurt, his hands still stung—but he made it back up, and this time, very carefully lifted only one hand to grab the branch.

It snapped.

And again he was losing balance. Thank goodness he didn’t fall again, but it sent his heart into his mouth regardless as he pressed his palms to the trees so hard his elbows started to hurt.

The next branch was at least another five feet. The prince knew better than to look down, but he must be at least ten feet in the air now, another five—no! No, he couldn’t just leave Logan’s gift behind!

Taking a breath, he continued his slow pace upwards. Steadily and carefully—two words that barely ever described him—until he grasped firmly at another branch. Tugging hard just to make sure it wouldn’t break, he slowly reached up with both hands to grasp it firmly and pull himself up.

Huffing, he climbed onto the branch and carefully stood up, gripping one above his head for stability. Now where? The foliage of this tree were dense, but he could see that through the leaves, it was not connected to the tree the stranger had hurled his crossbow into.

“Dammit,” he muttered, but there was no giving up! He stepped onto another branch to his right, where it did connect to the next tree, slowly making his way to it, and then to the tree next to that...

But it was slow going. And in this slow going, he had almost no light to go off of.

It took another ten minutes in the dark, in the trees, before Roman realized he was not making his way towards the tree he intended. In fact..he didn’t even know where he was relative to it. The prince turned, squinting through the darkness to make out the tree—to make out anything, really. But the night was thick and inky black, and what with the canopy both around and above him being as dense as it was, Roman could barely see his hand in front of his face as this point.

No…

There was no way now. How was he supposed to find the bow now?? He had to be home soon, before someone noticed..oh no.

Roman leaned out, peering desperately through the darkness. But then when feeling the branch dip, he flinched and scrambled back to the thick trunk.

Cold, heavy guilt blossomed in his chest. Roman might be a brave optimist (actually he’d been called reckless on many on occasion) but he couldn’t see a way to even begin retrieving the bow. He’d have to leave it behind..oh what would Logan say, what would he think of him? He  knew the Count’s penchant for occupying twitching hands with whatever he could, including a whittling knife..he’d no doubt carved the designs himself, anyone else’s would be inferior in his eyes. And now he’d immediately gone and lost his beautiful gift..

He’d have to come back. He wouldn’t leave it here in the woods where—where that snappish stranger might be able to do something with it!

The guilt in his chest hardened into resolve, and Roman crouched down on the branch. Gripping it tightly with both hands, he slowly lowered himself down so he was dangling, then one hand over the other, slowly, he moved down to the thin end of the branch, being carried farther down as the wood bent under his weight. With five feet left to go, he dropped, bending his knees as he hit the ground. It was jarring, but thankfully he found himself uninjured.

Now...to find his way home...

After a moment of glancing around in the dark, he found there was just enough light to distinguish his fingernails from the rest of hand-hopefully that was enough. Reaching into his hunting jacket’s left pocket, Roman retrieved the small compass he kept there, bringing it nearly all the way up to his eye and heavily squinting in order to read the needle. Not dignified, but necessary. It took a minute, but finally he was able to discern which way was south, he sighed in relief and began to walk.

It wasn’t long before he slipped the compass away and drew his sword instead, it never hurt to be wary..and he swore he noticed a glint of pale blue from a bush. Always be ready. But to his great relief, he didn’t encounter any beasts on his way out. In fact, it seemed much easier to find himself out of the eerily tall and thick inner wood, and back at the more spacious edges. He let out a long sigh of relief at the sight of the moon peeking through the foliage above him.

Journeys from always did seem to be shorter than journeys to, and that was a relief for the tired prince. He emerged from the edge of the woods and back onto the green grasses of the castle grounds with the moon not even halfway to its apex. Roman sheathed his sword and began his trek across the lawn, intending to head for the same kitchen door he used to escape (he knew the head chef took a long time to clean up after the day, and if he didn’t get lucky—well, he’d just climb up the wall to his room!)

He did get lucky though, quietly opening the door and slipping inside-then making his way up the steps without even checking to see who was around. Wood worn from countless shoes turned to impeccably polished boards as he moved from the servants’ end of the castle to the main halls, and then to the royal wing.

From there, he tiptoed his way through the gold light of torches lining the halls to the door of his room, all smooth polished wood that gleamed even brighter in the firelight. Carefully, Roman pushed it open, slipping inside  and spinning on his heels to shut the door just as quietly. Hm, that was strange, he hadn’t left any candles burning, had he? “Welcome back, Roman.” …Oh.

He winced, bowing his head and gritting his teeth sheepishly, as he turned to face the figure sitting on his bed. “Ah...yes, good evening mother…”

“Sit down.” She gestured to the carved chair in the corner next to his bookshelf, and Roman winced inwardly, dragging himself to the seat like his feet were bound by chains and sinking into the plush upholstery with dread pulling him deeper.

His mother folded her hands on her lap.

“So. Sneaking out at night, are we?” “Well it was really more of an evening walk-” Roman rushed to say, letting a bit of what he hoped was sheepish mirth into his voice, but with a snap of her fingers the queen silenced him.

“In your hunting clothes? Roman, you missed another meeting, and you’re lying about it. Going out hunting is one thing. Going out hunting late at night when killing the heir to the throne is a popular thing to do it another. So is deliberately sneaking out and lying about it. And missing a meeting that deeply concerns you.” A sharp edge slipped into her voice at the last words, and Roman bit his lip.

“I...I apologize, mother. I was only trying to get some fresh air, to clear my head...these past few days have been taking a toll on me as well you know.” For the first time, he heard his mother sigh, And it felt as heavy as his own. “I know, Roman. I know. But these are luxuries that for once we cannot afford. Once everything is sorted out—”

“Yes, what about that?” Roman burst out (quite against his better judgement, but then again, Logan was most of that) “Once everything is sorted out I’ll become king! And then I won’t get much of a chance to go out and hunt, will I? These are my last days, Mother! I would like to enjoy them!” He saw sympathy in his mother’s eyes. Just a little. But aside from that, it did not show.

“I’m sure you will find times here and there. Times are not always so turbulent. But for now, we cannot have you galavanting about in the woods when there is work to be done and safety is such a concern. You will be confined to the castle at all times until I say so.”

“Mother-”

“No.” She held up one hand, once again silencing him. “No ‘Mother’, no ‘buts’. I apologize if your safety and the stability of Volona is a more pressing matter than your excursions. I expect you to get out of those clothes and go to bed, we will have to make up that meeting tomorrow. Goodnight.” She rose from his bed and strode out the door, offering no further words to her son as it shut behind her. Still seated in the chair, Roman bit back a frustrated scream.

He grabbed the pillow behind his back and punched it instead.

Moron! Fool! Blind, forgetful, how could he have let that meeting slip his mind!? Of course they’d come looking for him, he should have been more careful! And now he was stuck here, with Logan’s beautiful present lost to that cretin in the woods! ...No.

Roman’s lips settled into a thin line as he clenched and unclenched his fists, rising from the seat as he roughly pulled off his sword belt his other weapons, then his hunting clothes. Even as he changed into his bedclothes, the thought remained constant.

He wasn’t going to let the crossbow rot in that tree. He could be smart. He could be careful. He’d get it back. Somehow.

Virgil hissed as he slunk away into the woods, wincing at the red line across the palm of his left hand. Well, at least he had his knife back..but he couldn’t shake the shaky feeling that spread through his body at what had just happened. Prince Roman, heir to the Volonian throne. In his woods. In the woods period! Why...and he’d basically bitten his head off. Virgil felt a little proud about that.

But hopefully he wouldn’t come back without that bow..he shivered, recalling the memory of the crossbow bolt pointed right at his face.

Thank god that was over.

He stepped deeper into the woods, switching the knife to his right hand. Sure, he wouldn’t be able to use it as well if he needed it, but it was better than irritating the cut. He’d bandage it later...well, if he could spare the fabric from the hem of his coat.

Luckily, Virgil didn’t encounter any danger. He made his way back around to the lakeside near the fallen tree with no problems and dipped his hand in the water, swirling it around. The blood tinged the surrounding silver rippled a pale orange, and he wiped it on his pants. Maybe not the most sanitary option (he did attempt to wash his clothes-if wash meant ‘leave to soak in the lake while you poke at them with your beak’) but it was all he had.

...Did he really have to bandage that? Looking at it, the cut wasn’t too deep..What would Patton say about it?

“Virgil!”

Oh. Well apparently he wouldn’t have to wonder. Virgil quickly turned around, meeting the striking blue eyes of the wolf he could still understand even in this form. They’d assumed it was a bond of the curse, but it seemed magic shouldn’t be something to think too hard about if you weren’t a practitioner.

“Hey Patt,” he replied-and was promptly tackled to the ground, a very concerned wolf now nuzzling at his hand.

“What happened? Why are you hurt? Did something attack you? Do I need to kill it?”

“What—no! I just cut myself on my knife, I’m fine!”

“Oh.” Patton sat up, allowing Virgil to push himself off the forest floor with his unhurt hand. “Well in that case, why weren’t you being more careful?”

Somehow, in the month since he’d been cursed, being scolded by a wolf had become normal to Virgil, to the point where he actually did hunch his shoulders, as if being reprimanded by his own father. Though his expression was more annoyed than sheepish. He’d been getting to that!

“Well-” actually, how to phrase ‘a hunter pointed a crossbow at me and probably would have killed me if I didn’t change back then and there’ in a way that wouldn’t prompt Patton to hide him in the den and not let him out. Ever.

“...Well, because the prince of Volona kind of showed up?” “The-the prince?” Patton sounded about as shocked as he’d felt, though far more awed. “What would he be doing here!? And-” he paused. “Actually, who did you say the current prince was again?”

“Some prick named Roman,” Virgil muttered, trying to scoot back to stand up. Luckily Patton got the hint and stepped back. “He was hunting, and he kinda...well, tried to shoot me—but I changed back just in time I’m FINE!”

Luckily, he did not get tackled again, and with a sigh of relief, continued. “I mean, he stole my knife. That’s why I cut myself, I had to grab it by the blade. Threw his crossbow into the tree though, serves him right for accusing me of cursing myself.”

“Wait, he accused you of being the magician?”

“Yep,” Virgil responded, popping the ‘p’ and pulling up his left sleeve, grimacing as he shakily cut away a strip of cloth from his jacket with the knife, taking the scrap of black fabric and tying it around his left hand, mostly with his teeth. Oh, how he wished he could get a new one, Patton’s fur was probably the only thing keeping him from freezing to death when he slept at night.

“Well...that’s not really a great first impression…” “Tell me about it.” He pulled the knot tight and slipped the knife back into his pocket. “I just hope he doesn’t come back to get that stupid bow...”

He got to his feet and looked down at Patton, but the wolf seemed to be frowning, thinking. Either that or sniffing something out. It was still a bit hard to tell. “Well, if he does, would it be all that bad? I mean, maybe he could help us somehow!”

“How?” Virgil frowned, not following, and a bit shocked by the idea.

“I don’t know, but maybe he could explain our situation to someone? At least then we wouldn’t be stuck here..maybe even ask some other magician if there’s another way around the curse!”

Virgil bit his lip. It was...a thought. Possible. Unlikely. Especially for him, Patton was just an innocent baker, but he’d probably either get told he deserved what he got for his life of thievery or just thrown in jail.

Neither of those options sounded very appealing, to be totally honest.

“Maybe,” was the answer he settled with. Patton sighed in response, nosing at Virgil’s uninjured hand.

“Well, I guess it’s up to whether he comes back or not anyway..now come on, let’s get you back to the den okay? You need rest!”

“Patton, it’s just a little cut-”

“Virgil. You stayed up until sunrise last night, and the night before that. I know why, but you still need sleep. Rest.”

Virgil groaned aloud, but he knew there was no arguing. Patton would either lick, tackle, or just straight up stare him into submission if he didn’t comply, so he shoved his hands in his coat pockets and followed the wolf into the woods, then down under the hanging roots.

He nestled himself in soft, gray and tan fir with the tiniest of smiled-and Patton really had a point, as much as he’d never admit it, because in less than ten minutes, Virgil was asleep.

(GOD I AM SO RELIEVED TO HAVE THIS DONE AND POSTED HOPEFULLY Y’ALL ARE STILL INTERESTED XD-however I think it’s clear that while i’ll still be writing this, updates will come much slower from now on, since it’s a lower priority. But I hope you enjoyed!)

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[gothamstodd]

Black

1940′s!Bucky Barnes x Reader Colors: Part 4

Word Count: 1.1k+

Summary: In the remnants of color is shared through ink on a page.

Warnings: Angst

Author’s Note- So that took forever! But it’s here now! I worked really hard on this series so I would love love love to hear what you guys think of it so far!

Masterlist | Ask Box | Taglist

Blue | Red | Violet | Black | Gold | White | Green | Epilogue

“If I get back, I'm buying you a big black Cadillac and we’ll drive all over New York with each other. I'll learn to play the piano and I’ll write you a song. If I see you again, I'll kiss you so hard you get dizzy and hold you so long we fall asleep in each other’s arms. Maybe if I see you again, we’ll go to Coney Island and ride the roller coasters with Steve. I love you. I love you more than anything. And I swear to say that against your skin if I see you again.

“Yours, Bucky.”

You finished the letter barely noticing  tears had appeared on your cheeks before you wiped them away. Bucky had sent you a few letters so far, and you’d responded to each one. But this one was the first so heart-wrenching, so suddenly real to you.

It had started so normally, Bucky telling you about the weather in England and how much he missed you, asking you to check on the cat that lived under the front steps of your apartment- who he had named Chester. But his final paragraph was what pulled the tears down your cheeks and suddenly made you so so incredibly afraid you’d never see him again.

You immediately picked up your pen and paper, heading the letter and quickly beginning to write.

“If? Bucky, don't you dare say that, don't you dare say ‘if’ to me. Swear you're coming back. Swear you will kiss me until I get dizzy, you will hold me until we fall asleep, swear you'll fucking be there to say you love me again. Promise me. Swear to me. You're coming back. I'm telling you I love you, to your face, again. Promise me, Bucky.”

You couldn’t leave it like that, so you shook the fearful thoughts and continued to write. The words following felt so normal spilling onto the page in the black ink, contrasting the agony that was suddenly tearing through your gut, suddenly ripping into your heart and causing tears to stream down your cheeks as you wrote to him, knuckles paling with your tight grip on the pen.

“There’s been a lot of rain lately here. I guess it’s kind of sad. At the same time it reminds me of the day you introduced me to Steve. It was raining then. We were on our way back to your place and we stopped at this bakery to get cookies. That was the first time I almost told you I loved you (there were a few). It’s weird though, back then, the rain seemed so much happier, more vibrant, I guess. Now it’s dreary, and weeping, and sad. Dramatic, huh? I miss you too, Buck.

“Chester is doing fine. I check on him every day, I left him some milk, but he doesn’t seem to like it. I’d take him inside, but I’m still afraid he belongs to someone, and they’re looking for him. If it gets really cold I’ll let him inside. I also wouldn’t want him going to the bathroom on our furniture, so he’ll have to settle for under the steps for now. I know you’re fond of that cat, but honestly, I think he stinks. You’re really the only reason I’m letting him stick around. For God’s sakes, he’s probably enjoying it outside. Our neighbors just told me Mitsy is having kittens... I don’t think he’s had much of a problem. Anyway, they’re asking me if I want to take one in, and I’ve thought about it. It’d be good practice, if we ever ended up with a little one. Besides, it’d satisfy your love of cats and it would be much cleaner than bringing in Chester, plus we could ‘train’ it or whatever so it doesn’t pee on our furniture. It’d be good company.

“I’m so lonely, Buck. I miss you so Goddamn much. Connie moved to Michigan with Mike when he came back in a wheelchair, a quieter life, I guess. Me, I’m never moving out of Brooklyn. Good luck with that idea of moving back closer to your mother. I love her, but I think I might love this city just a little bit more. Don’t tell her I said that. Anyway, I didn’t really have any other friends besides Connie, and the ladies at work don’t want to talk much, even during lunch break. 

“I guess I’m exchanging letters with your mom- so that helps. She sends me a lot of recipes so I’m much more into baking now, it’s good to occupy the mind. I miss you so much. I just want you here. I just want you back. What if we tell them I’m having a baby? Would they let you come home? Is it really bad to lie to those people? I think you’re the man I want to marry, Bucky. So you better come back.

“With love, Y/N”

You swore you’d never missed him so much. You’d never before wished so intensely that he’d hold you until you ran out of tears, kiss your temple and tell corny jokes until you finally cracked a smile. You’d never longed for him just to be there quite as much, and you’d never felt quite so alone.

You pushed away the spiraling dread, wiping the tears from your cheeks and telling yourself you’d see him again. Maybe if he’d be a coward for once and shoot himself in the foot, you wouldn’t be so worried.

You sat at the kitchen table after slipping the letter into an envelope and setting it aside, an uneaten sandwich sat in front of you. You remembered making it, and immediately deciding to check the mail- you’d forgotten to that day. You flipped through the rest of the letters, mostly ads, and Bucky’s old magazine subscriptions that you’d forgotten to cancel. Pulling back a Sports Illustrated, you found a letter from Bucky’s mother. Your heart skipped a beat, afraid for a moment that maybe…

No. It must have been her apple pie recipe or something. You remembered asking for something like that a while back. Maybe her chocolate chip cookies, or that Irish soda bread she’d sent over. You tore open the letter, unable to wait until you’d looked at all the mail and see if you were correct. “Y/N,” the letter read, “I think you should know, as I had received the letter this morning, Bucky is missing in action.”

The letter said more but you couldn't bother to read it as a sob ripped from your throat and your eyes blew wide. The rest of the mail fell from your hands. The piercing fear hit the center of your chest for the second time that afternoon, the fear you never wanted to confront but somehow always floated to the front of your mind, now carved through your sternum and dug into your heart. You were never going to see him again.

Read part five here!

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[kenzieam]

Trick or Treat - An Eric & Fox Halloween Oneshot

Rating: M (SMUT, SMUT, BEAUTIFUL SMUT)

Thanks everyone for the re-blogs and support!!! IT IS SO AWESOME!!!

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THIS STORY IS A PRETTY COMMON HALLOWEEN THEME, BUT HERE IS MY TAKE ON FOX AND ERIC, ENJOY…. I DID

“This is going to be great!” Ally enthused, sitting back. “Okay, blink.”

I blinked, feeling the fake eyelashes settle awkwardly on my lids. “They feel weird.”

“They’re supposed to,” Ally reached for her lip gloss then turned back to me. “Don’t touch them!”

I dropped my hand like a guilty child, sufficiently chagrined and curled my fingers against my thighs. I jumped slightly when I felt bare skin and looked down. I always wore jeans, training pants, sweats or the occasional capris; I never wore skirts and certainly not skirts this short. Seeing me finger my hemline Ally snorted and rolled her eyes.

“Are you sure you’re even Dauntless?”

“Graduated higher than you.” I muttered, sneaking a grin at my best friend. This was a running joke for us, although we’d both scored high in our initiation class, you’d have a hard time believing it, of me at least. I never wore the skimpy outfits Dauntless women were known for, and I had no visible tattoos or piercings beyond my bottom lip, even my hair was it’s natural shade; but that isn’t saying much, it’s goddamn fox-pelt red, hence my Dauntless name, Fox. Shit, I was a square, man, no wonder I didn’t have a boyfriend.

Tonight was Dauntless’ annual Halloween party, and if there was ever a faction tailor-made for a holiday, and vice versa, it was Dauntless and All Hallow’s Eve. The whole Pit was decorated in black and cobwebs, skeletons and fake ghosts, and the speakers spewed a constant mix of hellish grunge metal and angry alternative rock, bands like Marilyn Manson, Rob Zombie and Alice Cooper, interspersed with an occasional, completely incongruous word vomit of some song called ‘The Monster Mash’. Ally, my best friend and fellow transfer (Erudite for her, Abnegation for me), had managed to convince me to dress up tonight and attend the annual party, whereas last year I’d been able to beg off, feigning a convincing chest cold, and the year before that we’d been initiates, and banned from the legendary festivities.

She’d even managed to pour me into a tiny embarrassment of a dress, more torn lace and black satin than anything else, with a corset body that pushed my not-inconsiderable chest directly up under my chin, and also lacked anything resembling a skirt, merely a few anaemic swatches of satin and lace tangled together that barely covered the ass I had, well, worked my ass off for doing squats. The black silk boyshorts I wore underneath covered more than the damn skirt did but Ally had begged and pleaded for me to dress her counterpoint, the dark twin to her slutty angel, so here we were, the Yin and Yang of barely covered naughty bits. I even wore a long black straight wig, I didn’t recognize myself at all.

Ally’s dress was no better, and, other than the colour, was not virginal or angelic in anyway, but, as Ally had reminded me at least a half-dozen times in the last hour, Halloween was the night it was okay to dress up as a slut, that’s what every girl was, even if she had mouse ears on her head, she was probably wearing lingerie and was a ‘slutty mouse’. I didn’t understand the appeal, but Ally had been talking about nothing else since mid-September and I was, despite myself, getting excited about the upcoming night.

“Don’t worry about anything, just find a guy with a costume you like and start making out with him.” Ally continued, putting the finishing touches on my blood-red lips.

“No frickin’ way,” I replied, watching as she grabbed a different tube of lip gloss, this a pearlescent white and started coating her own mouth. “I not making out with anyone.”

“It doesn’t count if you’re wearing a costume,” Ally replied, smoothing down her dyed-platinum blonde hair, ironed straight as a board and hanging almost to her ass.

“It also doesn’t count if you don’t do it,” I replied stubbornly. I’d never really connected with the opposite sex here at Dauntless, they were all loud and muscular, sweaty and aggressive, yelling non-stop at each other in the mess hall, throwing food and challenging each other to fights in the Pit. I’d taken care of enough children when I was a Stiff, I didn’t feel like doing it now. Fortunately, my job as a tattoo artist was fairly obligation-free. I was waitlisted for a leadership spot, probably in the Ambassador or Family Resources division, but so far nothing had come up. I was content for now, however, tattooing and my apprenticeship for body-piercing was almost complete. My interactions with man-children was fortunately limited, once their ink was done I could kick them out of my chair.

“He might be there.” Ally sing-songed, fitting her gauzy angel wings to her back.

“Who?” I replied mulishly. We both knew goddamn well who he was, but damned if I was going to say his name.

“Eric,” Ally sang, winking at me. I snorted and looked away. Ally walked up behind me in the mirror and grinned over my shoulder. “Yeah, and I hear he’s single now. Him and Zoë broke up.”

“So?”

“Sssooo, now’s your chance.”

I made a fart noise with my lips. “Bullshit.” The brick wall otherwise known as Eric Coulter had his choice of women here at Dauntless, most of which were willing to ride that walking cock with no strings attached, he’d never looked my way before, why would he now? With the exception of his nerve-wracking lurking around our initiation training two years ago, I never even saw the guy around. I was pretty sure I was at the bottom of his list of desired conquests.

“Okay,” Ally grinned, “whatever you say Foxy…. Ready to go?”

I took a deep breath and nodded. “Ready as I’m ever going to be.”

We held hands as we reached the edge of the Pit; the music was even louder down here, vibrating through the floor and I scanned the writhing crowd. Everyone was in costumes of varying complexity and detail and, just like I’d guessed, most of the girls were wearing more skin than clothes, although few seemed to have gone with a good/bad twin theme like Ally and I had. I rapidly grew uncomfortable as someone recognized me and began elbowing their neighbours, stunned by what I was wearing. A few of my tattoos were finally visible and I saw a lot of eyes widening as they started to realize I wasn’t quite the prude everyone thought.

Ally squeezed my hand and grinned at me, pulling me towards the bar and I felt a hand drop onto my shoulder. I turned my head to see Uriah Pedrad, one of the few people I considered a friend, who insisted on only me for his tattoos, staring at me in drunken shock. He leaned in close, brow furrowed before he finally realized who I was; it was probably the small chevron scar on the corner of my lip, courtesy of my snake bite piercing getting ripped out one night, that gave me away.

“Holy shit, Foxy Loxy,” he slurred, grinning widely, his cowboy hat askew and button-down shirt undone enough to show off his ‘Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy’ t-shirt underneath. “You look diff’rent, but shit, you look GOOD!”

“Thanks Uri,” I mumbled, red-faced. His large hand suddenly slapped my back. “An’ I love yur wings!”

Tattooed across my back were a large pair of black raven’s wings and written vertically down my spine was ‘Fallen Angel’. Nobody besides Ally and my occasional boyfriends had ever seen these, even when I wore my usual muscle shirts all anyone could see was a non-descript black curve on the backs of my shoulders.

“Holy sheeet, yur a babe!” Uriah babbled.

Ally rolled her eyes and handed me a plastic cup. “Drink,” she ordered me. “It’s a double, you’re going to need it.”

Fortunately, Uriah had a short attention span and soon found himself getting his ass kicked in a modified game of beer pong. I watched him for awhile, couldn’t help but smile at the big doofus. Ally was pulled out right away for a dance by a guy dressed as a mummy and I smiled at them. She’d never had any problems making friends or interacting with guys. She was always the life of the party and sometimes I wondered just how in the hell we’d ended up as friends. All of my relationships had been quiet and sweet, fizzing out more from lack of interest than anything else. Although by no means a virgin, I still didn’t really understand what all the fuss was about, sex wasn’t that great; a lot of squirming and squealing. Ally said I just hadn’t found a good one yet, a man that would set me on fire, would I ever find that?.

Maybe tonight? I ordered myself to relax, to stop standing here like fucking installation art and at least act like I knew how to have a good time. Ally had pushed protection at me, and I was up to date with my birth control, so I couldn’t use that as an excuse for not finding a guy, not tonight. Dauntless was pretty laidback about casual sex, and I’d yet to have tried out that faction perk. I decided tonight was the night, I was going to see what all the fuss was about, I was going to have fun.

Although I’m a little embarrassed to say that my new get-up made for an endless stream of interested guys, and more than a few girls, sidling up to me, something didn’t feel right and I politely begged off each one. If I was only giving myself permission to go wild one night, I was going to make it count.

I had my head cocked to the side, trying to understand what the scarecrow in front of me was babbling about when hot breath tickled my ear.

“You look good enough to eat.”

I couldn’t stop a jump, that deep husky tone was like a caress up my spine, a hand between my legs. My heart started to beat harder and I felt suddenly warmer. I turned and looked up at the owner of that sinful voice.

He was tall and muscular, which was pretty much every guy in Dauntless, but this one stood tall, confident in himself. He was all in black, black jeans, long-sleeved button-down black shirt. A large and realistic wolf-head covered his features. It looked like it was made of real fur, and covered his whole head and neck, all the down to his collarbones. The only part I could see was a slice of square jaw through the mouth hole and the glint of eyes deep in the mask.

I had no fucking idea who this guy was, but my body didn’t care. Sensations like I’d never felt had begun to race through me, and I’m pretty sure I looked like the textbook definition of ‘body language - desire’. Was it the alcohol I’d been drinking? I was tipsy sure, but not drunk. I doubted it was my vow to have a good time either, if that had been the case, any of the guys before this one would have worked, but no, my body had decided. This was the guy. I was suddenly nervous. I doubted very strongly I was being at all subtle, I was all but panting right now, but FUCK… whoever this guy was, he was making my body hum like a tuning fork.

I couldn’t really tell because his face was covered, but I got the idea he was feeling something similar. His eyes glittered through the mask and he’d edged closer to me. Every few seconds his hands would twitch, like he was fighting not to reach over and touch me. His cologne was intoxicating, but underneath that, there was more, a natural scent to him that called to my blood, and I was shocked and mortified when sudden X-rated thoughts flooded my mind, thoughts and ideas of what kinds of fun we could have between the sheets. I’m pretty sure I’d found the guy Ally had told me about, the one that would set me on fire.

I shook my head slightly, realizing I’d taken an embarrassing amount of time to answer him, had been standing here drooling, looking like a cat in heat.

“Y-yeah?” I managed to stutter back.

He chuckled, a panty-dropping sound that did nothing to stop the moisture flooding my silk panties. Fuck, who was this?? To both my horror and intense relief he moved even closer and leaned down to murmur, in that same heated purr, “can I take a bite?”

My mouth opened and closed as I tried to form some type of answer. My body was screaming ‘hell yes!’, even if my mind hadn’t caught up yet. Fuck it, I decided. Tonight I’m going to have fun.

“You can have a taste,” I purred back, giving in to the desire flooding my body. It was a heady sensation, intoxicating and a confidence I didn’t know I had poured into my limbs.

He seemed a little startled by my answer, so I reached up and grabbed his furry cheek, pulled him down to my mouth and FUCK ME. His lips were soft and warm, and the jolt that shot through me as our lips touched was almost painful. He inhaled sharply too, then pressed his lips harder to mine, his tongue sweeping against me. I opened my mouth and the feel of his tongue sent shivers down my spine. His arms wrapped around me, crushing me to him as he started kissing me like he never wanted to stop, like I was the most delicious thing he’d ever tasted. I felt the same, clawing at him, trying to pull him even closer. His chest was hard against mine, and I felt my nipples harden, a tiny shiver shooting through him as he felt it too.

We devoured each other’s mouths and it felt fucking incredible. I’d never been kissed like this before, had a guy’s tongue exploring every inch of my mouth, or mine his, and I cursed myself for missing out on this all these years. Shit, if people were capable of kissing like this, who the hell had time to make trouble anywhere else? Finally, we had to pull apart to keep from passing out and I tipped my forehead against his furry face, panting. His hands tightened on me and I could feel him rock hard pressing against my bare thigh. My heart went into overdrive, fuck, I wanted this… we’d have to get out of here in a hurry to keep from giving our fellow party-goers a show. He seemed to have the same idea, his eyes gazing right into mine as he growled.

“We need to go somewhere more private,” his voice was guttural and I nodded. Every cell in my body was screaming for him right now, I’d never felt like this before. I nodded.

“Fuck, yeah baby,” he purred, melting against me, obviously as affected by me as I was of him. It was an incredible sensation and I didn’t want it to go away. His large hand slipped into mine and he pulled me away from the bar. I could feel tension in him, like he was fighting the urge to drag me out of there, was forcing himself to walk like a normal person. I didn’t know where he was taking me, but I didn’t care, I was so turned on right now I’d fuck him in a dark corner of the Pit.

He turns and pulls me ahead of him while we’re walking and the way he’s grabbing my hips make me realize he feels the same way too, that we’re not going to make it very far out of the Pit and away from the party before he gives in to the animal lust roaring through both of us; and I’m right.

We make it as far as the Chasm before he pushes me roughly against the railing and rubs his whole body against my back, purring low in his throat. I can barely hear him over the howl of the rushing water but that’s okay, we can be as loud as we want up here and no one will know. The thought is freeing, that and the feeling of him pressed up against me, his cock a hard ridge against my ass. I arch my back to rub against his straining dick and his arms tighten around me, a strangled sound in his throat.

“Fuck,” I hear him behind me, it sounds like his teeth are gritted, like he’s fighting hard to be at least partially gentle with me, but I don’t want that, I want hard, fast and rough. This surprises me, I normally don’t, but I want this and him so bad it hurts.

I drop my head back against his muscular shoulder, shiver as his hands roam over my breasts and moan against the soft fur of his mask.

“Fuck me goddammit. Hard and fast, make me scream.” I’ve never said such words before, never felt compelled to but Jesus, I’m throbbing for this dizzying stranger. He groans again, shuddering against me and yanks hard, my breasts pop free and fill his hands. I cry out as I almost come right there, tingles racing hot through me and his hips pump against my ass. His fingers find the barbells through my nipples and he gives a low sound of approval that I feel more than hear. His calloused fingers pinch me and I bit back a wail, grinding desperately back against him. One hand drops to cup between my legs and he nearly snarls with lust as he feels how soaked I am and there is no more teasing, neither one of us can wait anymore.

He pushes aside my panties and I feel him fumbling with his pants, then the head of his cock pressing against my folds. He slams inside me, filling me in one vicious, powerful thrust and I scream into the Chasm’s roar. His grip is bruising as he holds my hips, ramming into me and it feels so fucking incredible, it’s all I can do to hang onto the railing and keep us from plunging headfirst into the raging water. That’s part of the excitement, part of the appeal, certain death in front of me and definite ecstasy behind me and I feel the most amazing fucking sensations racing through me as he thrusts into me, slamming me from behind. His hand snakes forward and he finds my hood piercing and my blood heats all the more at his lust-filled groan.

My body is jerking violently, his powerful, almost out of control thrusts smashing me against the railing and I finally understand what all the fuss is about. With the right person sex is mind-blowing, amazing; and it vaguely occurs to me that I’ve been missing out on an amazing experience my whole time at Dauntless; one I’m not going to overlook again. I hope whoever this is with the monster cock driving inside me has a nice personality, because he’s not going anywhere now.

The incredible sensations racing through me finally coalesce into a single bolt of mind-blowing ecstasy and I give in with a scream, arching back against his straining chest as the most powerful orgasm I’ve ever had rips through me. My vision greys and only him behind me, erratically thrusting, panting roughly, keeps me from collapsing. The wolf behind me finally howls as he comes hard and I feel him pulsing inside me, his seed warm. Another, almost instantaneous climax tears through me and I hear him moan behind me as my walls milk him, drawing out his orgasm, his hips pressed hard against my ass. Finally, we collapse forwards, panting, leaning over the railing, too overwhelmed with what we just shared to do anything more than just exist for awhile. His weight is crushing me, but it’s a good feeling, and despite the fact that I don’t know this man’s name, I don’t even know what he looks like, I feel safe with him, safe and…. holy shit, loved? No, desired, definitely. I want more, I want so much more with this stranger.

Finally, with a shudder he stands up, pulling free from me and I shiver at the sudden cold. His seed trickles down my thighs and I hurriedly tuck my breasts back into my dress. For a half-second I feel awkward and consider standing here, staring at the Chasm until he leaves but no, we just shared everything, saw each other at our most vulnerable, we’re past that now. I take a deep breath and turn. He’s standing close behind me, chest still heaving, waiting for me to say something. I smile and bite my bottom lip. His growl is hungry when he steps back towards me, hand snaking into my wig and tipping my head back for another kiss, it falls off and he throws it away without looking up. The mask gets in the way this time and he snarls in frustration, yanking it off. I don’t want to disturb the illusion, not yet, so I keep my eyes closed as his lips claim mine again instantly. My head swims and the same passion he awoke at the bar floods my body again. He crushes me to his body as I cling to his and we pull apart enough to rest our foreheads together, breathe heavily and share the same air for a long moment. Finally, on some unspoken signal, we open our eyes, see for the first time who we just gave our hearts to, who we just fucked ‘till they screamed.

My heart skips and I lean back against the railing for support. It can't be.... Eric??

His eyes are huge and he licks his lips before speaking. “Fox?”  

I‘m almost speechless, how does he even know my name? It’s not like we run in the same social circles, hell, I don’t have a circle. I’m stunned, even though our sex was rough, there was still an inherent gentleness I felt in him, something I didn’t expect from Eric Coulter. The mask had hidden his leadership bars, his long sleeves his forearm tattoos, and I didn’t know him well enough to pick him out by voice or scent…. until now. Eric had just given me the most powerful orgasm I’d ever had, and I think I’d returned the favour, but…. damn.

Finally, still riding this carefree edge I just found, I grin and ask, “Trick or Treat?”

Eric grins back, a wide, genuine smile that takes my breath away. I’ve never talked to him before, never seen anything but the scowling leader storming through the Pit, so this side of him is unexpected and gives me a warm feeling in my chest. We just gaze at each other for a long moment, but the awkwardness I expect doesn’t come. I’m not embarrassed in front of him, and he’s not with me.

The grin still on his face, Eric closes the distance between us, watching me with hooded eyes. Stopping so close we’re almost touching he reaches up and caresses my cheek. His touch is warm and gentle and a tiny voice inside me hums contentedly. He leans forward and just before his lips touch mine he whispers.

“Treat.”

[one-deranged-son]

Colossal Vanity

Todd Russel had read it before somewhere online.

Becoming an FBI Agent is a tremendously difficult and competitive process. It takes years of time, planning, and hard work to mold yourself into the kind of candidate the FBI is looking to hire. It’s not going to happen overnight, and the hiring process itself can take a year or longer.

Right. It was extremely hard, indeed, but Todd can finally reap his hard years of training. He remembers how happy his mother and girlfriend is when he told them he was finally accepted. After all, Todd had always dreamed of becoming one since he wanted to protect his country and everyone he loves in some other way which doesn’t require him on fighting another super country who will most likely send missiles to their homes.

Right, right. It was extremely hard, indeed! And Todd thinks everything will get easier from that point. He knows how risky the job is and how physically plus mentally draining it would be, but Todd knows that it would be all worth it. It’s his all-time childhood dream after all, what could go wrong?

Right, right.

He’s wrong.

Nothing, not even twelve calls from mom, could beat the immense fear building up in the pit of his stomach as he gets into the van. Todd was in his tac gears now, Custom AR-15 heavy on his grip and now his heartbeat is spiking up because this is the first time Todd is going on some huge-ass operation like this. He knows that one day he will eventually go on some crazy boss fight, but he wasn’t expecting… this.

“Easy Russel, we can still see another day to found out what will happen to Ross and Emily.” Said a voice coming from beside him, its hand comes to tap his back.

Todd lets out a dry laugh at that. “You know what Bob? I think it’s funny. I was worried about that episode two days ago,” he said. Glancing towards the man wearing similar clothes with him.

“Eh, my daughter went mad when I told her I was going for this mission. My wife was trying to calm her down the whole night but I know she was crying when she thought I was asleep.”

Todd was quiet for a moment there. Surely he’s worried that he won’t ever get a chance to propose his girlfriend because of this mission, but now he’s also sad after hearing what his friend just said. Bob was older by six years and is his senior, but they were close like father and son. Todd knows his daughter, May, and he knows how close they are with each other.

“I’m worried about Ma and Marie,” Todd sighed, his hand finding its way into the strands of his hair. The names felt heavy in his tongue and at that, Bob just smiled, that kind of smile that’s sad and isn’t supposed to be called a smile in the first place.

“It’s fine kid, you got the best sniper guarding your back,” the older man said, wiggling his rifle as if it was a Super Soaker and not an Armalite AR-10SB.

This time, Todd’s laugh isn’t forced. Then they smiled at each other.

“Please do, I want to know what will happen to Ross.”

“JESUS CHRIST—”

Todd remembers this dude, he’s Agent Moore from the CIA. He emits the jock kind of aura but it turns out he’s a pretty good friend for a situation like this.

A situation when they’re cornered and there’s a psychopath that keeps throwing grenades at them.

“Did I just saw Jesus?” Todd asked, more like shouting because at this point he feels his eardrums are ready to pack his stuff and move somewhere else. There was a bitter wind that swept through their aching bodies, pillars of smoke and dust still boiling up from where the bombs were thrown. It feels like the grounds are shaking beneath their feet, and now his eyes are blurry and his legs feel like jelly.

They have been doing this for the fucking longest time, alright? Dozens of heavily armed men against what it seems to be no more than four people, but it has been an HOUR and the explosion didn’t stop at all. Even when they come at them with the full front; CIA, FBI, and the local cops joining forces, each hand armed with AK-47s and some other machine guns, they never hesitate to fall fire at them. Todd was stunned for the slightest moment right then, right there. Because nobody dares to take a step forward towards the unsteady building due to the explosives blowing up here and there like it was the goddamn warzone and bullets piercing through some unlucky comrades straight in their forehead.

They’re mad.

“That was the goddamn Revelator!” Agent Moore answered, yet again, they’re practically shouting at each other because everything is a whole chaotic ordeal with guns shooting from all directions, bombs getting thrown away so easily as if it was the fireworks from fourth of July, muffled voice from outside the perimeters who were still stark clear in his ears because, holy fucking shit, they sure did create a whole mess in the middle of a harmless suburban.

“Where do these guys get all their guns anyway? They’re a bunch of scrubs!” Todd tried to shoot again, but with the whole fire blocking his vision and another rain of bullets aiming at his head, he decided to take another cover. God knows how many belts they had run, but when Todd expected their heavy guns to sound off, for some reason, it didn’t. They had ammunition like a whole fucking country.

“I won’t say that if I were you. Those scrubs are way ahead of us when it comes to hot tips. And if you say something wrong about them, they are going to open up a can for—shit, WATCH OUT!”

Out on his sight, a piece of hand grenade had made its way just right there in front of his leg. Agent Moore was quick enough to notice it when Todd was busy trying to get a firm grip on his gun. There was a blinding flash and a huge ball of fire belched all around them, but Agent Moore’s push was strong enough to send them tumbling down a convenient slope. Both of them are still pretty much alive, thanks for that, but now their ears are filled with nothing but static and ringing sounds.

Todd scrambled away. He could feel the glasses cutting through his skin but now all he thinks about is to reach for his gun. He helps Agent Moore stands up and they run towards a safer place, a better place for a cover, and that’s when he saw it.

“Is that a child?”

Agent Moore squinted his eyes so hard in that judging manner. “You’re high,” he said, then he runs to another place and begins to shoot at the visible target who moves like Usain Bolt. And Todd should probably do the same but he just froze over there because he couldn’t believe his eyes.

It was a child probably not older than 15 and he’s shooting with a Colt Sporter I like it was a toy gun in an arcade. He doesn’t believe his eyes.

“RUSSEL TAKE COVER!”

Todd stumbled, fortunately, he was quick enough not to fell face first. Another blast of flame rolled up just near him, windows shattered. Smoke and fire rushed out. Some officers struggled to cover their ears and organs, but others are just sprawled there like a lifeless doll.

Todd tried to pry his eyes over when a heavy mass that had pushed him away finally lifted its weight away from his body. It was from Bob.

“What the FUCK are you doing? You wanna get yourself killed, boy? You don’t wanna marry your girlfriend? You don’t wanna get back to your Ma, eh?!” Bob's voice was stern and furious. Todd could see the anger flashing through his brown eyes, but there’s also sadness and worry dripping from his words.

“Bob?! Why are you—shit, I—I’m sorry, but there was a kid over there—”

“I don’t care! They’re trying to kill us and they’re going to kill more of innocent lives if you don’t snap out of it! So SNAP OUT!”

Todd was slightly taken aback, so he just nodded. He nodded and begins to shoot at whomever he could get his bullets too. To the Revelator, to the tall guy who keeps throwing grenade — and to the kid who should not be there in the first place.

“So how does it feel to be a hero, kid?” Bob’s voice was calming. He was still high because of the sedative but it seems like he’s doing good.

“I’m not a hero, dammit,” Todd answered. He was too, probably high on sedatives Because now he thinks of what it feels to be on the private wards instead where the atmosphere is most likely to be different. Marie and his mom just visited him an hour ago when he’s still dazed, looking extremely worried but still glad—mostly—amazed.

“You’re the one who shot the Revelator, you should be damn happy about it.”

Todd laughed. For a moment he’s glad that the sedatives are working and masking the slight guilt and complete confusion, because, sure, he had just killed one of the most wanted men across the United State but then again, he just killed a man.

Probably a father, too. He doesn’t know.

“Yeah, I am the hero,” he said, while it seemed unfair, he still did.

“You rock Todd,” said another man from across his bed.

Todd just laughed.

Todd had finished washing the dishes at that time. His wife is pregnant with their second child when a call came to his phone. Marie’s face was confused and as shocked as he was, and his four-year-old son keeps on tugging his pants.

“Daddy, daddy, mommy is making funny face!” he giggled, but no one laughs along with them.

“Russel here,” Todd answered, his palms are sweaty and trembling out of dread.

“You’ve watched the news?” the voice asked, and Todd could sense the hint tremor in it.

“I have.”

“Right, come over tomorrow. We need the details of the imaginary kid you talk about in 1998.”

The voice hung up as soon as that. Todd watched his kids run to his mom with jumpy steps and sit right on the couch.

He saw his son points out to the TV.

He heard his son ask about it.

“Mommy, who is the Revelator?”

[sending-the-message]

I've been wandering through Aokigahara Forest, where bodies hang all year long by Ra1n_Walker

Hi guys. This is going to be long, because I'll just be as thorough as possible. I don't think leaving out details will contribute to the story, so bear with me. Or don't… I was wondering how many of you are aware of the existence of this forest. The Sea of Trees, as they like to call it, or, on a less brighter note; Suicide Forest.

I have a mildly unhealthy obsession for the obscure and unsolved mysteries, which often leads me to venture to lost and forgotten places. Abandoned asylums, hotels, evil looking buildings. I love to scour the internet for strange occurences and events that seem to involve anything going from ghosts to murderers or aliens. People will believe anything to feel excitement.

I wouldn't call myself a believer. In fact, I think it's funny how people can get all serious and worked up about some weird theory that sounds creepy, but has not the slightest proof or link to a plausible explanation. What I do believe in is that people have a tendency to do some really fucked up things. Guess everyone knows to what extent, but the real atrocities are preferably kept a bit further in our daily lives and rather not thought of.

It litterally turns me on. I can get goosebumps hearing about gruesome scenes, imagining someone's pain or finding truly disturbing things. The 'this-song-makes-me-wanna-cry' type of goosebumps. I can't ever get enough. So I heard of this forest and read about it on the web. Reddit also has some accounts on this and there's even a few movies based on its reputation and stories (which I haven't seen yet as I don't want to ruin the experience) so it really isn't hard getting a bit educated about it. I had to fricking go there.

So that was that, and I was off to Japan only about a month later. I always thought Mount Fuji might be worth seeing and I definitely had a strong passion for the Japanese culture. And their anime and manga, obviously. Being on a plane towards my long awaited destination, I had enough time to go through the available information and read up on the forest. I probably read it all already, being the special person that I am, but it amused me. 

It definitely was a cool mystery anyway. The 'facts' were often disturbing and the assumptions made around the place were even more so. There's a few of those that really stuck with me that I think are thought provoking or at the very least interesting. I read about a lot of aspects. Locals would believe they could pin point the exact type of visitor to the woods.

There were the ones trying to snap pictures of Mount Fuji and its impressive base and flora around it. Some would go in there and hope to find something dark or scary. Thrillseekers if you will. And then there's the obvious type, the type that make the forest famous; the suicidals that don't plan on coming back out. What the fuck

The thing that struck me when I first heard about it is that it would have to be littered with corpses, seeing as over 75 people were found every year. Most of them hanged. They even reached over a hundred victims a few years back and decided to stop reveiling numbers to avoid making it more popular, thus resulting in more suicides. So yeah, there's a fricking cleanup crew. Every year locals search the forest for bodies or what's left of them.

According to what I'd read, they would drag decomposed bodies or parts of them, skeletons and personal belongings scattered around the sea of trees back to some kind of room where they'd store them. There's accounts of people staying in a room with the bodies, because according to local folklore, it would mean bad luck to leave those  alone.

I landed after a long flight and needed a good night's rest. I always admired people who were able to sleep on a plane, I was too nervous to achieve that. I'd never been too keen on flying and this time was no different. It felt good to get out of that bird. I called a cab and made my way to my hotel, about an hour drive from Shizuoka airport. I would've loved to chat with the driver and learn more than I already knew, but guess what. The dude didn't speak one word of English. 

"Yessir."

Good talk...

I dozed off in the car, face against the window and coat over my head to block out the light of the evening that still shone bright. When I woke up, the cab had stopped and I was in... Shimizu? My Japanese was about as good as the cab driver's English, so I didn't bother even trying to ask. I got out, stepped inside the hotel and was pointed to my room. I stayed there the whole evening to fall asleep quickly. Next day; alarm at 6am, breakfast with some documents and brochures to re-check my way to Aokigahara and what to look out for.

After speaking with the hotel clerk, whose English was good enough to be able to make out key words. It only took me half an hour before being on a train towards Mount Fuji. Shizuoka airport was about 80 miles from Aokigahara  and I was about half way going from where I was right then. An hour drive before getting there and I had to walk quite a bit before arriving at the area I was trying to get to, after even taking an extra bus.

And that's when I finally got to the place I had been looking forward to for the last weeks. I had Mount Fuji looking over me from the distance, like a titan contemplating the world beneath, and the forest of Aokigahara in front of me. The Sea of Trees. Suicide Forest... I was standing at the beginning of a path that lead into the woods. The path seemed to be an easy one to follow, it was clearly maintained regularly and countless footsteps were printed in the slightly muddy trail. Heart racing and adrenaline pumping, I took off hoping for adventure.

The path continued for much further than I had imagined and started twisting and turning the more I got into the forest. I knew it stretched about 13 miles and I wasn't helpless at all when it comes to navigating. I know how to use a compass and I have a good sense of awareness, so I never worried once. I just thought it was a bit weird that people tried to maintain this, as if they were trying to shake the woods' reputation and attract more tourists and less suicidals.

I have to say, after an hour or so, my surroundings felt a bit darker, a bit scarier if you will. One of the reasons for this is that there were multiple ways to go from the main trail. Dozens of paths leading deeper through the trees that were everywhere. I mean it's a forest, but goddamn this forest was dense. A lot of those paths were marked with a sign or a carving in a tree. Messages saying things I couldn't read, others in English saying life is precious and I shouldn't give in, a plea to return to the town and talk to someone... They really tried hard to stop you from killing yourself. Those signs were well intended, but I couldn't help thinking this shit was spooky and so out of place.

Honestly, it was creepy, but nothing I couldn't handle and definitely not enough to satisfy my need for excitement and adventure. I noticed more turns and twists in the trail I was following and I looked behind me on a few occasions just to make sure I kept my bearings. Plus, I was slowly getting a bit paranoid. The forest got darker the more I ventured in and I thought I heard footsteps every so often. Don't get me wrong, I love this. But yeah, shit gets scary when you go looking for it.

At one point, I decided I'd take a break and drink some water while checking the compass, just to be sure. And of course, my compass was acting up and desperately looking for north, while I looked at it and sighed. No biggie, I just have to turn around and follow the trail back, should I want to leave. Problem is, I turned around to find myself standing on an intersection. I had three possible directions to go and I doubted a little when wondering which one I came from. I couldn't remember seeing any paths starting from the one I was walking until then and I felt a lot less confident all of a sudden.

Shit

I was used to the feeling of panic rising and that was also part of the thrill I wanted to find every time I went looking for it. So I took some time to take in my surroundings and thought about what to do now. I hadn't seen anything really exciting so far and I was slowly doubting to go back. But the day wasn't over and I was dedicated to my trip. So I looked up to see if I could see the sun's position and nearly screamed like a girl. The foliage was way too dense to see through, only a small amount of light pierced through the canopy. But hanging practically right above me was a little girl, eyes missing and legs bitten off to the knees. Her head was hanging down rested on her chest and I gagged.

I jumped back and fell down, tripping over and hurting my wrist in the process. I cursed at myself while looking at the grim scene before me, but I can't say I wasn't excited. THIS was the thrill I liked and I was proud of myself for getting where I was trying to get, the small border between adrenaline and madness or insanity. But when you're looking at a dead body of a hanged little girl, there's some things you don't expect/want to happen, because you might just get a heart attack like I almost did.

"Hoshi."

Guys. No shit. I sharted then and there and I'm not even ashamed to admit it. It was the voice of a little girl that sounded like she was playing with her dolls or having an imaginary tea-party. Except she was having it in the middle of a dark forest all alone with a dead girl as a view... It came from right behind me and I turned around with eyes wide open and a scream ready to escape my mouth. There was no one there and I started to feel watched and incredibly nervous. I could hear rustling from behind me and I prayed. I wasn't superstitious, but I think I knew what was coming. I turned around and felt myself turn pale.

"We are the doo doo doO dOO DOOO you help me sir sir please sir for the I want to down down me or you"

The girl was still hanging in the trees when she said it and her empty eye sockets seemed to be shimmering in the dim light. Her mouth didn't move, but her head was straight up and looking forward, completely immobile. It was the most unsettling thing I'd ever experienced and I honestly stood there nailed to the ground, unable to think or move. I didn't understand the first word I heard coming from behind me, but what she was repeating now was so chaotic and abnormal that it scared the living shit out of me.

I stepped back even more and rubbed my eyes, hoping I was dreaming (which I definitely wasn't) and I tried to set my mind straight.

""We are the doo doo doO dOO DOOO you help me sir sir please sir for the I want to down down me or you"

This time it was MUCH louder and coming from much closer and I felt my heart pumping in my head, scared to open my eyes. When I did, I could've cried. The girl was now standing a few feet in front of me, pieces of flesh dragging behind her while her legs, or what was left of them, carried her lifeless body towards me. Saying the same thing over and over again with the rope still tied around her neck, tight.

I stood there watching her, never blinking. She was really frightening with her deep empty eye sockets, her mutilated body and the fact that she was so little. Despite all of that, the sensation of fear and the desire to run became less urgent. I started feeling more sad than scared. A girl that age committing suicide was just above me, it blew my mind and I couldn't shake the feeling this was wrong. Well, of course it was, but isn't it more than just weird to see such a young child here? I looked up and saw the rope going from her neck towards the canopy and realized what was bothering me that much. How the fucking fuck does that rope even get there.

Not kidding, the trees were high. Like, really high. You'd have to use machinery to get all the way up or be a damn good climber and I couldn't for the life of me picture this kid doing that. It was so high up I couldn't even exactly see where it was attached and when I looked back at her, she was holding out her hand as to motion me to grab it. I reluctently took a step forward and held out my hand, watching her getting closer.

Before I continue; what would you do?

Seriously. I'm nearly 30 years old, I'm the biggest horror fan I can think of and I have a tendency to question everything that doesn't have a reasonable explanation. So, what would you do?

I stood there watching her as she stopped in place and looked right back at me with those black, hollow eyes. Despite the obvious fucked-upness of the whole situation, I just couldn't shake the feeling I was having. Unable to explain it, I'd have to go with sheer empathy… This girl had to be, what? Six? Seven years old? I'm not a pro, so ten probably would've done it as well, but you get it. No kid this young should be thinking about suicide, nor should a girl this young be here in a forest so dark and dense you can't hear any birds or other animals. I only heard the sound of the wind rustling through the leaves as I looked at the first person I encountered in these woods; a girl that was so young and looked so innocent that I got sick thinking about the undeniable fact she was here. In these woods that carried its name so clearly and casually, forgotten forever.

"Hoshi."

That word snapped me back to my senses instantly and made me feel like I lost something that I never had. Who the fuck leaves a kid in here, or who the fucking fuck makes a kid feel so bad that it makes her ending up here with a rope around its neck in the Aokigahara forest? Or where the fuck ever. So I don't know what you would do, but tears were almost running down my face when I practically lunged forward and grabbed her hand as firmly as I could.

I guess the world stopped

I was somewhere else, feeling like someone else and thinking like someone else. I was afraid.

If only…

I was scared as I had never been before. The world around me was pitch black and I couldn't hear anything but my frantic screams and the drumming of my blood pumping in my brain, making me feel like I was going to explode. The feeling I had persisted until a loud bang made me jump up and nearly gave me a heart attack.

My blindfold was taken away and the light that attacked my face stung like a thousand wasps. The smack on my jaw made sure I wasn't distracted by the stinging of the air in my nostrils and also made me open my burning blue eyes to watch what was causing me to feel like this.

The guy I was watching looked far too happy to be sane.

I was sitting down in a corner of a room, hands tied behind my back to a chain that was attached to a radiator, the only thing in the room besides me. My wrists were on fire and I saw my little feet twisting in front of me as I cowarded backwards against the wall, trying to escape his filthy hands. The knife in his right hand was all the more threatening when he grabbed my neck with his left and started applying pressure.

Panic, fear, anger, loss, despair. Those are but a fraction of the emotions flooding me at that time and I wouldn't even know how to begin to describe the rest of them. As if the lack of oxygen wasn't enough, the pressure on my neck felt like it was going to make it snap and the fact that my legs were everywhere and arms flailing made sure to make me lose all hope. The world went dark with the last image of a lunatic smiling at me as I drew my last breath.

Then I woke up

I was in the middle of the forest at an intersection and it didn't take me more than a few seconds to realize I was right where I was before I started dreaming. Panicked, I turned to look around me and above me, only to see I was alone in the woods. But the fucking rope was there. Right in front of me, where the girl had been standing, there was a rope on the ground heading deeper into the woods.

Safe to say everything was already fucked up and I didn't even think straight when I bent over to grab it and started following it into the forest.

Stay. The fuck. Out of there.

Guys, I followed it and walked for an hour (approximately) and from the very first minute I was surrounded by a sea. Not of trees, but bodies. Kids hanging from trees, some mutilated, some unharmed as if they were sleeping. Others decomposed to almost nothing but bones, fallen down as their ropes were still ominously hanging from the invisible canopy… it kept going for as long as I was. When I got to the end of the rope and thought I'd shed every tear and consumed all the fear that was hidden inside me, I was standing in the middle of a clearing and looking at a guy.

An asian guy standing by some kind of enormous plastic bag and hoisting something up in the trees with a rope. I started shivering and I felt like all power was taken away from me when I saw an arm sticking out if the bag. The boy he was hanging couldn't have been older than five and the fact I was watching this as if I'd be watching a street musician suddenly put me in a mood I hadn't yet been in.

Tears running down my face and legs unable to take a step in whatever direction, I felt a hand grabbing a hold of mine. The little girl, the one I could watch now without being scared, the one that showed me and asked for help was standing next to me. Although they were blue, she didn't have eyes, but her smile was worth a thousand words.

What happened next took five minutes at the most.

I anonymously notified the police when I found my way back out of the forest almost a full day later and I went back home immediately. I know that nobody there likes to talk about the reputation of the forest and I know that other things have been covered up, so I have no way of knowing what happened or if anything got done.

Don't fucking touch children, because I might be the last thing you see. I looked up what she said -hoshi- and I guess she meant hoshii… I'm not Japanese so I might be wrong, but I believe she wanted/needed someone to help her