#Please someone drag me out of my misery I cannot deal with this anymore

[toubledrouble]

Am I alone in this one?

[gaymershigh]

Hello! I saw your askbox and open and read your rules and you are right, it's not often I see Male×Male reader inserts in the TWST fandom. So, I'd thought I'd request some to help the cause! If I may, can I request some headcannons of dorm leaders of TWST×Male!Reader who is in their dorm and has been noticeably stressed in their schoolwork and one night is seen super stressed out and the dorm leader's fellow students pull the reader aside and hand the reader over to the dorm leader because the reader refuse to listen to anyone else?

Of course you may! Tbh, this is such a nice request, I enjoy doing multiple characters, but it's so difficult for me to write for Azul and Vil in this hc for some reason??

REMINDER: Don't overwork yourself just because you don't think it's enough! The fact that you're trying is already amazing! Please remember to take care of your health because you matter! 💜

Triggers: None!

Dorm Leaders dealing with a stressed Male!Reader

Ever since Riddle got a text from Trey and its about his boyfriend doing his schoolwork on ungodly hours he was worried, very worried.

He wants to come to you and make a 2 hour speech about how you shouldn't overwork yourself but he barely has anytime as well, he's a very busy man as well.

So he decided to order your friends, Ace and Deuce to tell you to not overwork yourself. Hell, he even prepared a script for them.

Of course, it didn't work. It was so obvious it was from a script because Deuce sounds so robotic and Ace kept correcting Deuce. Your stubbornness makes it even more awkward and worse.

He ordered Trey and Cater this time, with a whole new script too.

They did a good job and all, but it also failed because your ass is so stubborn and Cater is pretty impatient and kept using his phone.

This only made you stressed out even more because these mofos probably dont understand how you feel.

Deuce's dense ass noticed this and told Ace about it. And that's how Ace got a big brain idea.

You were screaming, usually, the ADeuce duo usually stays at your dorm to chill while you do your work and NOT drag you to their dorm.

They shoved you to Riddle's room and what you're not expecting was your boyfriend showing a very worried face.

He immediately hugged you tightly before you could say a word. He cupped your face and caressed your cheek.

“My sweetheart, please don't overwork yourself, it's unhealthy for you. From now on, only work yourself for 2 hours max. Come now, let's drink some tea together.”

He knows that something's up when you haven't been hanging out with him for a while.

He misses his herbivore so much, he misses cuddling his boyfriend but he's too prideful to admit.

When he found out you've been doing your schoolwork 24/7 by Ruggie, his response is indecisive but on the inside he's bothered.

Since he's too lazy to move on his very comfortable position, he threatened ordered his dorm members to convince you to stop overstressing yourself.

Knowing Savanaclaw, of course they failed, there was no hope to begin with. It was a disaster. They tried but they're way too intimidating for you to even listen to their words. Thank god Ruggie was there to bail them out so it wasn't too awkward.

This made Leona very moody. Not only he cannot snuggle with you, his plan failed and he now forces himself to sleep alone in pain. Boohoo.

Ruggie can't stand this man's temper tantrums so he just snatched you away from your dorm and toss you to a sleeping Leona.

The lazy lion woke up immediately when he recognized your scent. Since he's still sleepy however, he just pulled you to his bed and hugged you close with his tail wrapped on your leg

“Hmph, you chose your schoolwork over me and had the audacity to not meet up for the entire week? You're not going anywhere this time, especially with you in my arms.”

He won't blame you to be honest. He overworks himself too and ignore your warnings multiple times. However, that doesn't mean he's not going to do anything about it.

He at least has time to spend with you but you didn't. Of course that made the octopus upset and he's not gonna five up when it comes to you.

He stalks you everytime he gets the chance. Your stressed expression really displeases him. He wants to do something about this so bad but he doesn't want to disturb his already stressed boyfriend.

Jade caught on to Azul's bizarre behavior and he cam up with an idea to surprise both of you.

“Kidnapping shrimpy? Ok!” of course Floyd would say yes, it's Floyd.

You're screaming in distress and confusion. Just a second ago you were messaging your temples because you couldn't mesmerize what Mr. Trein taught you and now you're getting kidnapped by the Leech twins, what a surprise. An unwelcome one at that.

Azul was shocked when he hears your cries as the twins dropped you off his room, still tied in ropes and leaving like nothing happened.

Azul untied you, explaining theories as to why they would do such things, but when he does got the right answer, he blushed in embarrassment. He caused this.

He placed a soft kiss and holds your hand gently.

“I apologize for causing a huge ruckus. It's just I missed you when you barely replied to my calls and texts and you kept working and that made me worried sick! I'm sorry that I sound selfish but.. Could you stay here a bit longer, please?”

Oh dear. How could you say no to that?

Ok first of all how could you even ignore him? He always keep coming to you and basically screaming at you.

Your stress may could have took the you over and may accidentally snapped at him for being too noisy.

This made him sad and left the room. BUT HEY AT LEAST YOU GOT SOME PEACE AND QUIET AM I RIGHT?

But if you think that's gonna make him upset??? You're his wonderful boyfriend! His treasure! No matter what, just seeing thinking of you makes him happy again.

This didn't last as you kept ignoring his daily chat with you and his messages and calls. This wasn't okay.

This genuinely made him stressed as well, he probably doesn't even exist to you anymore. Despite it just being 2 days if felt like forever since you talk to him or even looking at him with a smile.

Kalim wanted to spend fun times with his boyfriend like always. Not just sit there and look at him groaning at the worksheet every now and then.

He missed you so much. Even though he sees you, it just doesn't feel the same.

He got less happier as the days go by, everyone got worried sick. Even Jamil felt disturbed about it, usually he would be living the life when Kalim's quiet.

Everything's the usual today. Kalim visiting you and he's quiet again. You of course felt bad but you really need to pass this test.

But out of nowhere, you kept getting text messages from Jamil screaming to you about talking to Kalim and how pathetic he looks when sad.

When you turned around, your heart shattered to pieces. There it is, a sad Kalim in tears, curling himself on your bed to at least have your scent on him.

You stopped what you're doing and hop on tour bed and press his face against the crook of your neck, muttering sorry.

“Ahhh! I miss you so much,habibi!(my love) please don't overwork yourself and ignore me! I love you so much and seeing you date your homework then dating me hurts me! Please dont leave me! I'll be the best boyfriend ever!”

Who do you think you are, to ignore your lover's calling just for a paper of misery? How foolish.

Vil understood that your future is important to you, but do you really need to worry when you're dating the Vil Schoenheit? The beautiful, rich man who spoils you every single day?

Not only that, stress causes wrinkles and you're also ruining your sleep schedule?! Unacceptable.

He kept ranting to you about how greasy your hair and how big the bags under your eyes are.

To the point you have to lock your door to refrain him for entering and rant. You're already stressing out and there's literally no way you're going to hear about your dramatic boyfriend moan about your appearance.

He kept calling and texting you and you also ignore that. If anything you gave good morning texts or either leave him on read.

And he's not tolerating that.

His job was easier to handle than the others. He can just ask Rook to kidnap you and he would oblige and do so in an instant.

And he just did that.

Unlike the others, you know exactly what's going to happen when Rook is violently dragging you to Pomefiore. He's going to put you in Vil's room, listen to him rant for a few hours and do beauty things or whatever.

Well, have of that did happen when Rook closed Vil's door. He did rant but what your not expecting was him being very gentle and sweet.

“I knew it, you got increasingly worse. Oh well, I will refix this mess later. But for now, you should rest right beside me. No leaving no matter the circumstances, you understand, potato?”

I mean, of course you're gonna ignore him, he's just a gross, weeby loser. There's no way he can impact your life positively in any single way. If anything, he probably causes trouble to his you anyway.

He doesn't really wanna stop you, he really cherishes you and your choices even if they're not good and losing someone like you is probably gonna take years to move on to.

Poor Ortho, he needs to hear his brother rant about his boyfriend not being able to see nor play games with because he's busy working himself.

But this made Ortho worry. Not only id his brother is sad but you're risking your health to do schoowork! That's no good.

This made you confused. Ortho kept muttering about your health status to himself everytime you pass by the hallways.

And everyday, your stress levels increase and your health is deteriorating.

He needs to make you rest at all cost but he knows your stubborn. So he has to do one thing that makes your knees weak.

His very own special puppy eyes.

Ortho innocently dragged you to Idia without either of you guy's knowledge.

When Idia finds out, he immediately apologized for the inconvenience he caused and you might have to be the one to comfort him.

“I'M SERIOUSLY SO SORRY! I just really wanted to play games with you and hangout with you like usual.. Eh? You will?? REALLY!?”

At first, the fae didn't even realise you are stressing despite showing a few signals.

Until you start ignoring him. Then you got a pouty Malleus. (aw)

He doesn't understand why you're struggling with Mr. Divus' homework, it seems so easy to him, why is it so hard for you?

That made you upset and he still doesn't know why.

He never had a boyfriend like you before so of course he's not gonna understand gen z struggles. Spare him please.

Lilia gave him some tips, only for it to be tricks and make you more upset. snide mf

Seeing a sad Malleus made Sebek upset, then mad.

He asked Lilia what's wrong with his young master.

And when he found out you're replacing him with your schoolwork and then for some reason 'stressing' about it??

How rude!

Sebek kept nagging at you to stop working and pay attention to your damn boyfriend but you couldn't care less about Sebek and his shenanigans.

You only start sweating when he suddenly yanked your arm and dragged you to Diasomnia.

And what you see is a pouty Malleus playing with his little game.

When you sat next to him, he immediately wrapped you in his arms.

“My darling, I plead for you not to pressure yourself in something that only destroys you even more. What progress you have done is enough for today but as of now, you need rest. Release all your negativity away, love.”

This is literally my second work but I already feel like a failure.

-𝕸𝖎𝖗𝖎

[v01d-ch1ld]

I am a Lion Born From Things You Cannot Be

I am a Lion Born from Things You Cannot Be

 Name changes are based on whether or not people are in costume (with their mask on).

 Breathe in and out slowly. That is the only thing Rebecca can do right now. She woke up tied hand and foot to a bed frame. The room is pitch and there are no windows. Nothing new, that’s how she was kept in that padded cell. She gave off the illusion of someone who was asleep, but she was actually thinking about how to get to her hair clip. It had a saw edge on it for this exact scenario.

She slowly moved her head to the side, making it look like she was trying to take some of the pressure off her neck and get comfier in her sleep, and once her fingertips were hidden by her hair she snapped the pin out of her hair. She let her head hang loosely from where she had suspended it and cracked open her left eye, which would have been hidden from any CCTV camera trained on her. Her hair hid the hand that was slowly sawing the ropes binding her hand to the wrought iron bed frame. When her hand was only bound by a few thin threads she stopped, making sure it looked like she was still tied. Then she readjusted her head and did the same with the other hairclip. Now that she only had a few strings holding her hands she could plot her escape.

Meanwhile, in the Batcave, there was a meeting of the minds and fists over what should be done about the girl upstairs who was still presumably unconscious. The conversation was too heated for anyone to be checking the security camera placed in there.

“I still say we take her to Arkham right now,” Bruce says in a no-nonsense tone.

“ABSOLUTELY FUCKING NOT!” Jason roared back at his used to be father.

“Yeah no, there’s no fucking way that’s happening, Bruce.” Surprisingly, Tim chimes in glaring at Bruce over his cup of coffee.

“I won’t let you touch her, not after last time.” Nightwing in an icy tone, enunciating every syllable.

“I agree with Father,” Damian said nonchalantly. His brothers turned on him within seconds.

“You little fucking brat- “Jason was cut off by Nightwing who sounded loudly.

“YOU SOULLESS UNGRATEFUL LITTLE SHIT!” He paused and caught himself bowing his head and taking a breath, Dick looked at Damian with a look of intense sorrow. “After all she has done for you, for us all, you would abandon her for things that were outside of her control? She loved us and cared for us and made sure that we were taking care of ourselves even when she didn’t know the truth. She didn’t pry and she always looked after you and Timmy especially. She is the only reason this family even resembles a family in the first damn place.” Dick sat down and placed his head in his hands. Tim placed a hand on his back, Dick loved her like a sister. They all had.

“Look, all I am saying is that we are ill-equipped to help her as none of us have the necessary training to act as her therapist.” Damian hurriedly states, not wanting to seem his usual soulless self. “I wouldn’t abandon her. Who else would I prank you guys and play with Titus with?” The snark reminded Dick of who he was talking to. Damian did care he just had issues with showing it, but that didn’t mean that Dick couldn’t dish some back out.

“Jon. You already do all those things with Jon.” Dick said matter-of-factly. Damian sneered.

“Only because my usual partner was presumed dead.” Damian glared.

“The kid has one thing right, Dickie, I’m irreplaceable.” Everyone whipped around to the elevator leading down into the Batcave. Bruce cussed, how the hell had she managed to get into the Batcave? The boys looked on in shock as she flashed a smile and sat down on the table. “Don’t look so surprised, I was a med student. I’m nothing if not observant. I just didn’t think that the secret elevator led to the Batcave until recently. By the way, you have got to hide that better.”

Rebecca sprawled all five feet ten inches of herself across the table, laying down in a pose on her stomach that reminded them of Selina. Grinning a sickeningly wide grin she turned to the boys, rope still tied tight around her wrists, with jagged edges where she cut them from the bedposts. “Whatcha talking about?” she purrs.

“We have to do something with you, babe, you need some serious help.” Jason drawled.

“Don’t I know it. Do you have any idea how much my head hurts right now? Fighting another personality for control of your body is a living hell. Makes me pity Dr. Fate.” Selina has had a definite influence on her speech. Little do they know that she is mimicking her old voice.

“Really? You are fighting for control right now?” Tim says in awe. She was very strong, she always had been, but it only now registered how strong. She would make a freakishly strong Green Lantern.

“Yep. Hurts like a bitch lemme tell you. Honestly, I don’t know how long I have before she takes my body back. When that happens, you should Taser me.” She rolled on her back and smiled at Tim, her eyes glowing softly.

“NO! We are NOT hurting you!” Jason and Dick said at the same time.

“Guys, she wants me to jump on top of you,” pointing at Jason, “and fuck you while I dig my fingers into your eye sockets and play with your eyeballs. And she wants me to stab you,” pointing at Dick, “and play with your entrails while I lick the sweat off your skin.” She said with a tone of absolute boredom, while she dangled herself halfway off the table. She put herself into a handstand and proceeded to front flip and land in a split. She’s become less and less able to sit still lately. “Oh, and you don’t want to know what she wants me to do to you Brucie.” She stuck out her tongue.

“I shot you in the leg. You need to be careful. Don’t hurt yourself,” Jason growls from his chair.

“Please, I shot you in the everywhere else plus, if I’m not already healed by now, I would be surprised. Also, can’t feel pain anymore. My nerve endings are fucking fried, dude.” She sat up with alarming quickness. “Hey! Do you have any cigarettes?”

“Yeah, baby doll, come here.” Jason dug his hand into his jacket and grabbed his pack and his lighter. Rebecca trilled with joy and ran over to grab the outstretched cigarette and waited for Jason to give her the light. Once she had it, she took a deep drag and her shoulders immediately sagged in relief. She really needed that. Jason lit one for himself much to Dick and Bruce’s chagrin.

“You need help. You have to go to Arkham. I can call for the top professionals to try and rehabilitate you, but you can’t stay here, Jester.” Ouch. That one hurt.

“Really Brucie, not even gonna use my real name anymore? Guess I was right to say that you don’t care about me anymore. But guess what? You’re the reason I’m in this mess.” She stood up straight and began to stalk forward. “You’re the reason we are all in this mess. The reason Jason died. You know that, right? Because I was there that night.” Jester was in his face now, eyes glowing a hue that put shivers down Jason’s spine, smiling that sickening Joker smile.

“Rebecca, what are you talking about?” Damian said in a careful tone. He knew the slightest provocation and she would lose it.

“The night that my father turned into the Joker, I was there.” Bruce paled. Uh oh. “We were in dire straits. My mother was pregnant with my little brother and she was sick. The hospital bills were racking up. Dad had recently quit his job because he got an offer to be a comedian at a nightclub, supposedly guaranteed pay. Unfortunately, my dad wasn’t as funny as he thought he was. I was coming home from boarding school. I had gotten in on scholarship. My mom was hospitalized earlier that night and they were doing everything they could to save her. I went to the hospital immediately. We didn’t have the money to pay but that didn’t matter. They both died. I was devastated. So was father, but he didn’t find out until after. We still had bills to pay though and he was approached by two mafia men earlier that week. He went on the job that night. The deal was he help them break in, they split the money three ways and he was never the Red Hood again.” She paused, tears welling up in her eyes. She took a long drag from her cigarette and closed her eyes. She continued.

“You were on your first case, busting the Red Hood robberies. You came in after them there was a fight, you, having mistaken the masterminds as goons and my dad as a real criminal, ended up above the acid vats. You fought, he tried to defend himself. He fell and you could have saved him, but you let him fall. You got the goons but left me, the little girl who followed her father in there, knowing what was about to happen, trying to get to him to talk him out of it. I watched him fall and I cried for hours. I ran out of there back to our house. I cried until I passed out in my parents’ bed thinking I had lost my whole family in one night. But then there was banging at the door. A man. I panicked. I went to go get my mother’s gun from the closet, but my father had taken it to the robbery. I grabbed my old softball bat and waited for what was inevitably my death. The Joker busted in, laughing hysterically with my mother’s gun. I almost passed out. This was my father. I swung blindly, heard a crack that was the gun flying out of his broken hand and I bolted for the window. I got out and spent that night, and many afterward on the street.” The tears were falling down her face in a silent stream. Her face showing an indescribable amount of hurt. The same hurt they all knew personally.

“Jester, you know it was not my fault. Your father committed a crime.” Bruce said in his Batman voice. It didn’t work. It only set her off. She lunged at him, fag between her teeth, and before he could put his hands up to defend himself her hands were around his neck with crushing force and they were knocked to the floor.

“YoUfUCKiNgAsSHolE! YOU RUINED MY LIFE AND YOU SAY IT ISN’T YOUR FUCKING FAULT! YOU PIECE OF SHIT I SHOULD PUT YOU OUT OF YOUR MISERY, YOU SELFISH EVIL BASTARD!” Jester said while she banged his head into the floor over and over.

The boys immediately ran over to try and pull her off of their boss. Damian tried to get her fingers off of his father’s neck, but they were held fast like steel traps. The crushing force spoke of enhanced strength, one part of Bruce’s brain noted (explore the extent of this in order to detain her better in the future).

She then ripped the cigarette out of her teeth and held it over one of Bruce’s eyes, one arm and her legs enough to hold him to the floor. This prompted Dick to jump on top of her to try and wrestle her to the floor while Tim got one of his eskrima sticks and tried (and failed, he swore only Dick knew how to use the damn things no matter how hard he tried to learn) to turn on the Taser setting. Jason got in front of her face and began telling her to let go like she was a scared animal. That one, scarily enough, seemed to work and her grip relaxed. Once Jason was able to get her to calm down and took back (and subsequently finished) the cigarette, Bruce’s neck was dark purple, and he was spluttering for air. Served him right, he thought.

“Baby girl, come on you know that if you keep doing that, we’re gonna have to tie you up again.” His own slightly glowing Lazarus pit green eyes were peering into her for the parts that were still sane. She responded to him in kind with her brighter ones looking into his for permission to finish what she started. She tilts her head to the side like she was appraising him and in the next second, she is kissing him furiously.

Dick jumps thinking she had decided to bite him but then Jason groans and holds her to him tighter. I suppose this had been long coming, but to happen so suddenly. Then he remembered things about the Joker and how he always seemed horny after violence, seems the apple didn’t fall far from the deranged tree. Abruptly she stopped and Jason is left panting while they all look in in either shock or disgust. She then settles into his lap looking at them like the cat that ate the canary. Then Dick knew that she did it for two reasons. One, she wanted to and two, to piss Bruce off.

Bruce growled when he was finally done recovering, from the strangulation or the shock of what just happened no one knew. Storming over to where the current thorn in his side was gleefully waiting, he picked her up out of Jason’s lap despite him yelling and threw her over his shoulder and walked to the Batmobile with his sons on his tail. Dumping her in the passenger seat while she was still kicking and screaming, he jumped in and sped off.

Jason cursed. This is going to be a long night.

   A/N: Holy shit this took forever but hey angst works right. @nxttime @dcdweeb @batfam-imagines @dcuniversefanatic

[themadlostgirl]

Not Dead Yet (Part 55)

*sniffle sniffle. Once Upon A Time is over 😢

But this story sure ain’t!*

Pairing: Reader x Peter Pan

Warnings: language

“It cannot be healthy to chew on a fistful of mint leaves, pet,”

“Don’t care,” I swatted his hand away from me, “You taste gross.”

“That’s harsh,” He instead placed his hand on my back rubbing it tenderly.

“It’s accurate.” I spit out the wad of mint leaves. My breath may smell amazing but there was still the aftertaste of Peter’s dick on my tongue, “I mean how do you like going down on me? It seems so unsanitary.”

“Because I like the way you taste.” he murmured in my ear.

“Okay…” I scoffed, “I don’t know whether that’s sweet, arousing or disgusting.”

“What’s disgusting about it?”

“Really, Peter?”

“Hey,” He drew me back so I was reclined against his chest, “if you don’t want to do it anymore you don’t have to. I don’t want to make you do anything you’re uncomfortable with, you know that.”

“And give up my sure fire way of getting anything I want? I can choke down anything if it gets me hot springs and free rein to do whatever I please.”

“You really think blowing me entitles you to get away with anything?”

“Doesn’t it?”

“That’s besides the point.”

“So...yeah. It’s fine.” I shrugged.

“No, it’s not fine.” He looked at me earnestly, “How about this? If you want something then just ask me. As long as it is reasonable I have no reason to deny you. Also, as my second in command you already have free rein. Unless you do something incredibly stupid no one is going to punish you.”

“Is that a serious offer?”

“Not an offer, a statement. You’re my lover and my best friend and you have a killer right hook.” he gave me a squeeze that made me laugh, “When you want something done you’re not afraid to use whatever means necessary to get it. You’re powerful and smart and fearsome. No one that knows you would dare to challenge you. So while we could go on this way I would never ask or expect my Lost Girl to just submit to anyone, especially me.”

“Peter, I--” I bit my tongue before I could say something insane, “I um, I’m glad that you’re so understanding about this. I wouldn’t think you would care so much about something as superfluous as a blow job.”

“You don’t know everything about me. But enough talk about this. How are things going with your new Lost Girl? Any luck making Neverland and the life of a Lost One look like a paradise?”

“Yes, actually,” I was glad for the subject change. I told him about my day training Wendy and our visit with Tigerlily. Peter seemed miffed that I was on agreeable terms with his ex-fairy godmother and that I was dragging his latest recruit over to her side as well but didn’t say anything otherwise. If anything he was more annoyed when I mentioned Tigerlily and I comparing his natural disaster tantrums.

“My former fairy godmother and my lover are swapping stories about me. This feels like a bad joke.” He yawned.

“You’re the one that has to be so dramatic all the time.” I copied his yawn, “That being said it has been a really long day. Can we go to sleep now?”

“Yes please,” he blew out the lantern, “Night pet,”

“Night chief,” I nestled closer into my space in the crook of his body and slowly drifted off to sleep.

The next few days flew by. I was glad to have Wendy around and when the end of the week came I wasn’t looking forward to it. I had done all I could to make her feel welcome and show her a good time on Neverland. Even Devin, Nick, and Ben were warming right up to her much faster than I expected them to.

It was nice having someone around that wasn’t stupid or brash or gross. Someone who liked and wanted to have intelligent conversations about stuff. I’m not saying all the boys are idiots but most of them don’t even know how to read and refuse to learn. Wendy though was just such a breath of fresh air that I didn’t want to let go of. But if she still wanted to leave then I would have to let her. I made a promise.

Wendy and I were enjoying a stroll along the beach the morning of the last day exchanging pleasantries. I knew I should ask what her decision was but part of me was hoping that if I just never mentioned it she would forget and end up staying forever without realizing that time in her own realm was moving on without her. The sad reality of her possibly remembering that she was only supposed to be spending a week here and transforming it into years was too much guilt even for me. Murder, assault, and thievery I didn’t lose any sleep over. Betraying my innocent and ambitious Wendy-Bird would haunt me for as long as she was on the island.

“Well we should probably address that this is the end of the week.” I told Wendy. Her serene smile dropped and she slowed to a halt on the beach.

“I suppose it is,” she sighed.

“So? What is your decision?”

“I love it here.” she admitted, “I have had so much fun and this was such an adventure. You and the boys have been so kind to me and took me in without question.”

“But you can’t stay…”

“It’s not my home. I have brothers of my own and a life worth living outside of running around an island. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” I swallowed back my disappointment, “I made a deal and I’m not going to go back on it. I’ll go back to camp to tell Peter you want to leave.”

I turned away so she couldn’t see the misery written all over my face and raced back to camp under the guise of needing a magic bean.

Making my way back to camp I saw Peter chatting with Felix. I approached them and slumped my head against Peter’s arm. He kept on talking to Felix without acknowledging me except for taking one of my limp hands in his. After they were done Felix stalked off.

“So,” Peter gave my hand a squeeze, “I’m going to go out on a limb and say the little bird wants to leave?”

I nodded.

“Don’t look so down, pet.” he tilted my chin up, “We didn’t need her anyways. We still need to find the Believer, remember?”

“I know, just stinks. I liked having her around.”

“Another Lost Girl will find her way to the island and you’ll forget all about Wendy. So in the meantime can you do something about your pet? It’s been terrorizing the camp.”

“Yeah…” I turned around to settle whatever trouble Candace was getting into before Peter spun me back into him.

“Can I get a smile?”

“No.”

“Can I give you a kiss?”

“Sure,”

He left a chaste kiss on my forehead then gave me a push in the direction of where Candace was bothering the boys by swooping at them and pecking their heads. I gave a low whistle and she stopped her assault to sit on my shoulder.

“Y/N! Thank the gods,” Devin groaned, “Your pet has been an absolute terror. Can you get her out of here?”

“She was just playing. Back off.” I pulled some berries out of my pocket for her.

“What’s got you so wound up?” Devin asked, “You look pissed.”

“I am.” I took in a deep breath, “I need to get out of here. There’s too much noise.”

I left the camp with Candace still on my shoulder as I shuffled off into the jungle. Maybe some peace and quiet will help with the disappointment.

~~~

Y/N left in such a hurry. Wendy knew that Y/N had wanted her to stay and part of her wanted to but she couldn’t forget her real family. They were probably worried to death about where she had gone to. Also, while the island had been fun there was an undercurrent of misery surrounding it. Many of the boys smiled and played the whole day through but at night there were tears. Boys that didn’t truly want to be here crying for their home.

She could stay. She could stay and play and have adventure with Y/N and the boys. But at night when all was still and the music ceased she’d be alone with her thoughts and memories. Her parents, Nana, her brothers, Bae...she’d have abandoned them without a single goodbye.

So no. She couldn’t stay.

Making her way towards the camp Wendy worried about how the others would react to her leaving. If Y/N told them would they shun her? What if they locked her up in a cage? Y/N had promised it would be fine no matter what she chose but she still feared the boys to a degree. She saw what they had done to the traitor Isaac. Left to swing in a cage until he might have use.

Entering the camp no one paid her much mind. She needed to find Y/N or possibly Peter himself.

“Looking for someone, squirt?”

Wendy’s heart leapt into her throat. The tall Lost Boy, Felix, was watching her from a log.

“Yes,” she swallowed back her nerves, “I was hoping to find Y/N. I was--”

“We know. You’re leaving.” he sighed like the subject bored him, “You’re lucky she likes you or this choice of yours would never have been an option.”

“I’m aware,” she stared down at her toes. A hopeful thought drifted through her head about the possibility of Y/N coming back to London with her. She smiled at the thought of the devil-may-care Lost Girl wearing dresses and combing her hair regularly. It was a funny idea but it wasn’t her. Y/N’s life was Neverland. She would never leave it and Wendy could never ask her to.

“I suppose we need to send you back home. Wait here,” Felix got up and left leaving Wendy alone once more.

She looked around the camp at all the faces she had come to know. Y/N’s closest friends were gathered in a circle talking seriously. She walked over to them to see what they were saying.

“...just give her the pipes. I don’t know why we’re discussing this.” Nick said.

“Because she’s our sister and we should be able to do more than tell her to play some instrument to make her feel better!” Devin snapped at him. “Have some compassion.”

“This is so stupid…” Ben groaned and slumped to the ground.

“What are we talking about?” Wendy interjected.

All three boys turned to look at her. Unlike before where they regarded her in a friendly way, they backed away like she was a poison...or an outsider. She wasn’t one of them anymore. She knew that.

“Oh Wendy, it was nothing, don’t worry about it.” Devin waved it off, “We did hear from a little birdie that our own Wendy-Bird is flying away. Were we too uncouth for the proper miss?”

“I fear it is more complicated than mere brutish humor and bad hygiene.” She didn’t want to try explaining to them her reasons for wanting to leave.

“Can’t say that we’re not a little disappointed. You were shaping up to be a decent fighter and fellow Lost One. Sure we can’t convince you to stay? We’ll start using soap.” Devin smirked.

“As tempting as that is I just can’t. Nothing personal of course,” Felix came back with Peter in tow. Y/N was still nowhere to be seen.

“No point in prolonging this,” Peter whistled and the dark shadow that had taken her to Neverland flew into the camp hovering above everyone’s heads. Peter turned to address the shadow, “Take her home--”

“Wait!” Wendy looked around the camp, “I can’t leave right this second! I still need to talk to Y/N. Say goodbye at least.”

“Sorry to say but Y/N really isn’t in the mood for teary goodbyes with half-baked Lost Girls.” Peter’s words were much harsher than he had used with her before. She should have expected this. Without Y/N around she really was just a silly little girl. She had no place in Neverland.

“Can you at least give her this?” Wendy took the flower crown she had weaved that morning from her head, “As a memento? Please.”

Peter looked between the ring of flowers and Wendy before nodding and taking it from her. He turned back to his shadow once more, “Take her home and be quick about it. I want one of the brothers by tonight.”

“What?” Wendy gasped when the shadow grabbed her arm, “No! You can’t take one of my brothers! That’s not what was agreed!”

“What was agreed was that if you didn’t want to stay here then we would return you home.” Peter said, “But I still need a recruit. One of your brothers may be the boy I need. It will happen tonight. The shadow will come again and I will get a boy this time. That I promise. Now take her away!”

“NO! You can’t do this!” the shadow lifted her off the ground and started zooming away from the island and into the sky back to London.

~~~

After some time to myself my head was clearer. I was still upset Wendy was leaving but I had come to terms with it. I was rehearsing what I was gonna say to her while making the trek back to camp. It was getting pretty dark, how long had I been gone?

“Hey!” Devin pounced on me when I stepped back into camp, “Where have you been?”

“Out and about,” I shoved him off with a small laugh. Candace didn’t appreciate being jostled and pecked at Devin’s head. “Where’s Wendy? I need to tell her something before we send her home.”

“Oh…” Devin stared down at his toes, “You see, about Wendy…”

“What did you idiots do? Did you lock her up in a cage or something? I swear if you did--!” I brandished my club at him.

“No! Nothing like that!” He held up his hands, “She’s not on the island anymore. Pan sent her back home this morning while you were roaming around elsewhere.”

“What?” I dropped my club back to my side, “She’s gone?”

“Yeah, we didn’t know you wanted to tell her something. I guess we figured you didn’t want anything to do with her after she said she wanted to leave.” he wrapped an arm around my shoulders, “If we had known then I’m sure Pan wouldn’t have had the shadow take her back.”

“It’s fine,” I shrugged, “It wasn’t important. Just a final farewell.”

Devin sighed and pulled me towards the huge bonfire of the camp. The rest of the boys were sitting around it telling stories. Ben had the camp enamored as he retold the tale of him, Nick, Devin and I storming the Black Fairy’s realm to rescue Peter. Nick settled on my other side as we listened sometimes shouting out comments to up the drama of the tale.

At the end the boys cheered and Ben gave an exaggerated bow before taking a seat and another boy stood up to tell his own adventure story. It was hard to beat a daring rescue mission to another realm but it was still nice to hear the adventures of my brothers. After a few more stories the boys picked up their drums and other instruments and started the usual crazed party we all knew and loved.

I wasn’t in the mood for dancing so I watched from the sidelines instead at the jumping and spinning the others did around the fire. I was gonna miss Wendy but she didn’t belong here. It was better this way.

“Evening pet,” Peter came to stand next to me, “I heard that you had meant to talk to the Wendy-bird before I sent her away. Apologies about that.”

“Don’t worry about it, you couldn’t have known,” I rested my head on his shoulder, “I only wish my last words hadn’t been a rushed dismissal to her. Too late now.”

“You do know you could always go and see her, right? There is a little thing called magic that lets us travel from one realm to the other.”

“No, I’d really rather not. Especially after Nick told me that you told the shadow to bring back one of her brothers tonight. I don’t think she’d want anything to do with me after that.”

“Sounds accurate,”

I elbowed him in the ribs, “Thanks chief,”

“Would you rather I lie to you?” he elbowed me back. “Before I forget I was supposed to give you this,” He conjured something in his hands and gave it to me.

It looked like one of the flower crowns Wendy made but it was golden. It still bent and felt like regular flowers but it shone with a golden light like someone went over it with paint. “Where did this come from?”

“A final present from your Lost Girl,” Peter took it and placed it on my head, “A little of my own magic to keep it fresh and a gold dusting so it looked like a real crown.”

I touched the delicate petals with a small smile, “So, does this make me queen of Neverland?”

“Sure,” he smirked pulling me along towards the fire and dragging me into a dance. I was finally starting to forget about Wendy when Peter brought our dance to an abrupt halt. He stared up at the sky.

“What? What is it?”

“Someone’s entered Neverland,”

(First) (Previous) (Next)

[itsteaveetime]

//Finally crawled out from under my xmas hangover and got this done.//

Veruca Salt’s room is very, very big, and very, very pink, and Mike Teavee feels very, very out of place here.  He hates it.  A room can’t tell him he doesn’t fit in: rooms can’t even talk.

But Veruca has one of those museum rooms (one of those museum houses).  Everything looks ridiculously expensive and untouchable, and Mike wants to knock it all over out of spite.

He shouldn’t, though.

Don’t get him wrong: normally, he would.  But: Veruca is sick.

He hadn’t even wanted to come here: to the Salt mansion.  To Russia.  But Ethel has won some Russian cruise: ten days, all expenses paid (open bar), and Ethel isn’t going to pass up something like that.  There’s just the no-longer-so-small problem of: Mike.

Her prize had included no plus one.

Mike isn’t sure how his mom and Mr. Salt started talking (and if Ethel is being courted by some weird Russian dude, Mike just plain doesn’t want to know; he has to sleep sometimes), but somehow plans were made (despite his protests) for him to stay with the Salts while Ethel enjoyed her winnings.  As if they have gotten to the point where absolutely no one in the entire United States will take him.  Well.  He might take a little pride in that.

But Ethel thinks, for some reason, that he’ll have fun here.  She has convinced herself that he and Veruca got along well on the Wonka tour.  That’s not exactly how Mike remembers things.

He remembers: a stuck up girl who wouldn’t show him that furry lollipop, even though he asked nice and everything.  He remembers: a girl placing her hands on his back and shoving, sending him stumbling and almost face-planting into the floor on more than one occasion, and thinking it was sooooo funny (it wasn’t funny).  He remembers: a girl rubbing her ability to walk on invisible marshmallows in his face (but mostly he remembers getting kicked in the nuts by an invisible horse, and the rest of it is kind of hazy due to invisible head trauma).

And okay, sure, she threw a pretty impressive tantrum, but that doesn’t make up for everything else.  Plus!  No one seems concerned that she’ll cough her plague up on him.

Maybe they think he’s easier to deal with when sick.  They are so very wrong.

It’s all a load of bull, and Mike is going to make someone pay, hard, but you can’t wreck up a sick girl’s room.  Even Mike isn’t that much of a terror.

He glares at her instead.

She looks...gross, honestly.  Her nose and cheeks are red and dry.  Her blonde hair is flat and a little greasy.  Her eyes are puffy.  She’s propped up on a ridiculous mound of pillows.  She frowns at him.

“Oh,” she says, sounding disappointed.

Mike folds his arms and glares a little harder.  It’s not his fault if nobody told her he was coming.  

“‘Oh’ to you too,” he says.  “I’m staying here, in case you were too into yourself to notice that that was happening.”

The staff member who had escorted him to her room has slipped away, he can’t help but notice.  He envies the guy.  He’s probably stuck here until he or someone else comes back.  The Salt mansion is vast, and even a nearly fourteen year old boy could easily get lost here.  

Veruca rolls her eyes, and drags herself more upright.   

“I know you are staying, dummkopf,” she says.  And then has an extended coughing fit.  Mike takes several steps back, grimacing and putting his hand over his own mouth, as though that might help.  She waves her hand in his general direction.

“This: I was not expecting,” she rasps.

“Well I wasn’t expecting-...”

He’s about to say ‘germ warfare’, but instead he says:

“Wait, what’s that supposed to mean?”

Veruca blows her nose indelicately.

“You are supposed to be small,” she informs him, along with a hand motion to indicate how small (shrunk-to-fit-a-screen small).

He’s struck momentarily speechless.  And then he isn’t.

“WHO TOLD YOU ABOUT THAT???” He shrieks. 

They’d managed to keep the results of his little...’accident’ (it wasn’t an accident) from going public.  He’d hidden at home until a package full of vitamin-like candies had arrived in the mail (return post-marked ‘Charlie Bucket’), which had slowly restored him to nearly normal size (he remains: two inches shorter than he was the day he walked through Wonka’s gates).  He’s not sure if Bucket alone sent the things, or if Wonka himself had something to do with it, and he doesn’t particularly care.  He’s just grateful not to be tiny anymore.  He can at least take some solace in the fact that Ethel had remembered almost immediately that taking care of something small and helpless that can’t tell you what is wrong is terrible, and that she hadn’t enjoyed herself either.

But no one is supposed to know about any of it.

Veruca smirks ominously, and he can’t help but be a little impressed when she says:

“We do not need to be told such things.  We have money.  There is nothing we cannot know if we want.”   

And then she ruins it by continuing:

“A little mouse sized boy: this is so cute!”

She points at his current boy-sized body.

“This is useless.”

“You’re useless,” he spits back, on instinct.  “And your intel is, like, a year out of date.  And I wasn’t cute!”

He wasn’t.  He isn’t.  ...So why doesn’t he like it when she agrees so readily?

“I suppose it is no good to tell my papa that I do not want you any more,” she sniffs.  And sniffles.  Her fingers press against her temples.

“Uh, it’s not like I wanna be here either,” he tells her.  “I’m only here because my mom won a stupid...”

He trails off, because her smirk is back, and could put one of his own to shame.

“Why’re you looking at me like that?” He asks.

“You stupid American boy,” she says.  “You know how easy it is to rig contest.”

It hits him like a ton of bricks.  He should have known the odds of his mom winning a contest like that (and he does know: he can calculate them in his head, he just didn’t before because there hadn’t been any reason to).  He sits heavily on the end of her bed, mouth hanging open.

“You...catfished my mom,” he murmurs.  “That’s...kind of awesome.”

She preens a little.  She does not seem to realize she looks like crap.    

“I know,” she purrs.  “But you ruin everything.  I am supposed to be only girl in the whole world with little mouse boy.”

“No.  And for ten days,” he snorts.

When she doesn’t agree, he jumps to his feet.

“You weren’t gonna get to keep me!”

“Why not?” She says, more than asks.  As if it all makes perfect sense, and he’s being unreasonable.

“I’m a person.  That’s like kidnapping!” He insists.

She waves his protests away.

“It would not be kidnapping.  You would want to stay.  I would give you anything you want,” she tells him.

“What about when I wanted to go home?” He asks, sarcastically.  

“You would not want to!” She says again, and he’s pleased by her annoyance and lack of real retort.

“You can’t tell me what I want,” he tells her.  “And newsflash: if I was still shrunk, my mom could have just shoved me in her purse and taken me wherever.  Which: I also hated, but: she could have, and I wouldn’t even be here in the first place.”

Veruca’s mouth opens.  Then closes.  The opens.  Then closes.

“Papochka!” She shrieks.  “You have tricked me!”

She hurls one of her pillows across the room, and she hurls pretty good for a girl, but her room is huge and she doesn’t do any damage.  She flops back into the remaining billions of pillows.

“Why he do this?” She asks, pouting. 

Mike doesn’t answer, because why would she even be asking him?  How would he know?  But she keeps staring at him until he blurts:

“How should I know?”

Just to get her to stop.

“Maybe he’s sick of you making him get you stuff that you just forget about and throw away,” he mutters.

She sits bolt upright in bed, wrestles with her blankets a moment, then crawls furiously towards him on her hands and knees.

“I DO NOT throw away,” she hisses, and he takes several steps back again from the alarming intensity in her eyes.  “Everything that is mine is mine.  Is always mine.  Is mine, mine, MINE!”

She falls into another coughing fit, and Mike considers bolting for the door, except...

There’s something red on the blankets now.

“Are...are you coughing up blood?” He squeaks.  “Holy crap, you’re coughing up blood!  You have some crazy Russian disease and you’re coughing up blood!”

It is gross.

“Is nose bleed,” she informs him, pinching her nose between her fingers.  “You are such baby.”

“I’m not a baby!” He whines, looking around for whatever she uses to summon her servants.  “How do you get your dad to come?”

She crawls back to her pillows, still pinching her nose.

“My papa will not come for nosebleed,” she says.

“Why not?” He asks.  It is, maybe, a stupid question.

“Because he is busy!” She explains, sounding exasperated that she has to.

“But you’re sick,” Mike points out.  “And bleeding.”

He shudders involuntarily.

“So?  I am sure your mamma does not stop all of her everything any time you are a little sick.”

“Um,” says Mike.

Because she does, actually.  If there’s one thing Ethel is diligent about, it’s taking care of him.  Even when he doesn’t want her to; when he’d much rather be left alone in his own misery.  She’s there, shoving soup and medicine down his usually resisting throat, and forcing him to stay in bed, while some substitute handles her classes.  When she herself inevitably catches whatever he had, she does not stay home sick.  He’s always thought that was dumb of her.

Maybe it’s not dumb.  Maybe it’s something else.

“Oh,” Veruca says, softly.

She rolls onto her side, back to him, and pulls her blankets up to her chin.

“This is so wonderful for you,” she says, flatly.  “You go away now.”    

You don’t have to tell Mike Teavee twice.  He turns on his heel, marches out the door, and...

Stops in the hall.  And not just because he has no idea where he is or what he’s supposed to do with himself.

He feels sorry for her.  As much as he insults Ethel, he can’t imagine her actualy not being around, especially if he was sick.

He blows out a breath.  He kicks a wall and leaves a satisfying mark on it.  The feeling doesn’t go away.  He sighs.

“Hey, Russian guy,” he calls out, to one of the Salt’s numerous staff.  “Do you speak English?”

A half an hour later he’s back in her room.

“I thought I told you go away,” she points out.

“Yeah,” he says with a shrug.  “Buuuuut, I don’t do what people tell me to, so.”

He drags the chair from her vanity over so that he can sit beside her bed.  One of the staff places a tray in her lap.  She looks down at it.

“What is this?” She asks.

“Soup,” Mike tells her.

“It does not look like Cook’s soup,” she says, poking at the nearly florescent yellow liquid with a spoon.

“It’s not,” Mike says.  “That was crap soup.  This is Campbell's chicken noodle.  It comes in a can, you heat it in a microwave, and it costs ninety-nine cents and it’s the only thing you’re supposed to eat when you’re sick.”

She brings a spoonful to her mouth.

“Ugh, it is like liquid salt,” she declares, wrinkling her nose.

“That’s how you know it’s good for you,” Mike says, propping his feet up on the edge of her bed.  He pulls out his phone and fires up a game, watching her out of the corner of his eye.  She gets down half the bowl of soup, which is acceptable when you are sick.  Now she’s watching him.

He stands, moves the tray to safe place on the floor, and starts to pull her blankets off the bed.

“What you doing???” She yelps, grabbing for them.

“You’re sick,” he says.  “You gotta go sleep on a couch.”

“I am sleep, on bed, глупый,” she points out.

“Yeah, but I don’t make the rules,” Mike tells her with a shrug, having won the struggle over her blankets easily.  “So, either you point me towards a couch, or I’m gonna be wandering around with your blankets for a while.  It’s your choice.”

She chooses, wisely, to direct him to one of the less formal living rooms, where he cocoons her on the couch.

“My bed is more comfortable than this,” she complains.

“Everybody’s is,” he admits.  “But this is how you do it.”

He leaves briefly, only to return with another member of staff carrying several glasses of liquids, and yet another who sets up a laptop on an ottoman in front of her.  All of the staff seem vaguely confused by Mike, but too tired to try to defy him.  Mike plunks down next to her cocoon and brandishes a bottle with English writing on it.

“I didn’t know what any of your Russian meds were, but trust me: this is the good stuff.”

“Robot...Ushin,” she says, squinting at the bottle.  “Robot ushin?”

“...sure,” Mike agrees, pouring until the medicine fills the little dosage cup entirely, paying no attention to the amount that is actually recommended.  “My mom...brought-”

Smuggled.  To knock him out on the plane.

“-it from home.  It tastes gross.”

She pulls a face, like she did with the soup, but swallows it down. 

“And now?” She asks.

“The most important part,” he announces, “T.V.  It is a known fact that the only way to recover from a cold is to mainline T.V.” 

He leans forward and pulls up Netflix on her laptop.

“James Bond,” she says, in a hushed, almost reverent tone.

“What about it?” Mike asks.

“James Bond marathon,” she repeats.  “Make James Bond marathon go NOW!” 

“Okay, okay,” he says, searching for ‘Casino Royale’.

“Noooooooo,” she moans.  “The good James Bond.” 

“Who’s ‘the good James Bond’?” He asks, incredulously.

She just raises an eyebrow at him until he has scrolled all the way back to ‘Goldfinger’, at which point she nods, and settles back into the pillows he has arranged behind her.

“Sean Connery: so dreamy,” she murmurs.

“Ew,” Mike says.

By the end of the movie, either the Robitussin is taking her down, or her fever has spiked back up.  She curls up on her side and looks miserable and heavy-eyed.

“Apple juice, orange juice, or Coca-Cola?” He asks.

“Mmmmm,” she moans, and it’s clearly going to take more than hydration to make her feel better.

“Sometimes,” he admits, begrudgingly, “my mom pets my hair.”

She looks surprised that he has admitted to this, but does not hesitate to lay her head on the pillow he places across his lap.  He runs a hand very gently over her hair, the way Ethel does back in Idaho, the way he knows he likes.

“Mmm,” she says again, softly.  It is not a moan this time.

“My mom,” he says, “thought we got along.  Back at Wonka’s.”

Veruca lets out a croaking bark of a laugh.

“That’s what I said too,” Mike agrees.

“You were annoying,” Veruca says.

“You were annoying,” Mike replies, instantly.

“Now, you are less annoying,” she admits.  “...were you really shrunkened?”

His jaw tightens.

“Yeah,” he says, shortly, hoping she will get the hint and change the subject.  She does.  Sort of.

“It is my papa, who tells me of this.  But I think he knew you were not anymore,” she says.  “I think: we have been both played.”

He stops stroking her hair.

“What?” He says.

She shakes her head.

“Do not stop,” she demands.

“Your mamma,” she slurs, once he has begun petting her hair again.  “She do this every time you are sick?”

“Yeah,” he admits.

“She is good mamma,” she says.

“Yeah,” Mike agrees.

Because for all the faults they both know she has, Mike does happen to think his mom is a good a mom.

“You are good mamma,” she giggles.

“Uh, let’s get one thing straight-...”

But Veruca is asleep, or at least pretending to be.

He returns to America with a bad cold and Veruca Salt’s phone number.        

[izazov]

A stony ficlet, inspired by the photos of RDJ that hint at the possible return of the arc reactor in Infinity War. Also, I needed a break from writing my soulmate fic considering my brain has been completely unhelpful since I’ve run out of canon to play with. Hope you’ll like this.

After the accident, Steve becomes obsessed with the arc reactor.

It starts with cautious glances, which, soon, turn to tentative touches.

Tony doesn’t pay it mind at first. Well, after that disastrous first time when he flinched away from Steve’s fingers, and Steve’s face turned ashen and he quite literally fled from Tony. Afterwards, Tony had to spend three days trying to coax Steve to touch him again. Those three days sucked in a very non-fun way, dragging the ghosts of Siberia back from their graves.

But now, Tony cannot ignore it. It’s like there is a magnet that connects Steve’s eyes, lips and fingers and that damned thing in Tony’s chest. On those rare days when he wakes first, it is to Steve firmly pressed against his back, and his hand splayed wide over the arc reactor. 

And it is driving Tony crazy.

He doesn’t know why, though. It’s not fear. Or some lingering trauma from their fight. If he didn’t trust Steve, he would hardly get involved with him. 

It shouldn’t be a big deal. So what if Steve likes to drag reverent fingers across the arc reactor, or plant soft kisses there. It’s not like Tony doesn’t prefer certain parts of Steve’s - truly magnificent - body. 

But still. It’s starting to freak him out, and they did agree to act like mature adults and talk to each other in order to avoid another Ultron. Or Siberia.

So. Talking. Tony can do that.

“Steve,” Tony says, glancing up at Steve from where he is lying on the couch, his head pillowed on Steve’s lap. Steve’s fingers are, predictably, tracing an absentminded pattern across the glowing outline of Tony’s arc reactor as he watches TV. “Is it the light? Are you attracted to shiny things?” 

Steve gives him a baffled look, but doesn’t pull away his hand. Tony frowns up at him. Perhaps Steve isn’t even aware what he is doing. “I’m not a magpie, Tony,” Steve says. Tilting his head, he gives Tony a thoughtful look. “Although, I did always wonder why I fell for you.”

Tony snorts, rolls his eyes. “You’re a natural comedian, Rogers,” he says, and is rewarded by Steve’s face lighting up by a truly dazzling smile and muttering ‘You think so?’ as he leans down, capturing Tony’s lips in a soft kiss.  When Steve pulls back, still smiling - even if a touch smug - Tony licks his lips and considers just dropping the subject. It’s not as if it matters all that much. It doesn’t even bother him anymore. 

Drawing his eyes away from Tony’s face, Steve returns his attention to the TV. A beat later, his fingers start moving slowly over the arc’s surface, and Tony swallows a frustrated sigh.

Okay, so it does bother him. Not the touching itself, but the possible implications of it. Obviously, it’s not going away. So either they talk about it now, or Tony waits until it festers inside him and probably erupts in the the worst possible moment.

A year ago, Tony might have taken a chance and went with avoidance. Now, though.     

Taking a deep breath, Tony pushes himself into a sitting position. Then, following an impulse - it’s less likely Steve will bail out of the conversation if he first has to drop Tony to do it - he straddles Steve’s lap, steadying himself with his hands around Steve’s biceps.

Steve’s hands wrap immediately around Tony’s waist, his eyebrow arching, a hint of a grin tugging up the corner of his mouth. “Wanda and Vision are due to return from their date any moment now. You really want to give them a show? Again?”

Tony gives Steve a flat stare. Then pointedly looks down at where Steve is slowly inching Tony’s shirt up. “I can’t believe I ever though you were an innocent, Rogers,” Tony remarks wryly. Then, heaving a sigh and cursing inwardly, he stops Steve’s hands from migrating to more distracting places. “And as much as I would like to allow you to prove it to me right here and now, we need to talk, Steve.”

Steve’s hands still on Tony’s waistband, the mischievous expression on his face fading into a frown. “Talk?” he repeats in a slow and careful voice. “About what?”

Tony grimaces, looking away for a moment. When he looks back, he is met with growing concern in Steve’s eyes, his body going very still under Tony’s. “You do know we’re okay? Right, Steve? Have been for a while?” Tony blurts out.

“I- Context would help, Tony.”

“Siberia,” Tony forces out, watches as guilt flickers in Steve’s eyes. “We dealt with it, remember? The yelling and the shouting? Then more yelling?”

“Most of it was you. But-”

“Because your contribution was either saying ‘I’m sorry’ over and over again, or staring at me stone-faced across the room.”

“I was giving you space, not staring-”

“And then I dealt with it like a mature and responsible adult.”

Steve gives him an incredulous look. “You pushed me against the wall and kissed me.”

Tony shrugs. “It seemed worth a shot. After all, we’d tried everything else,” Tony says, smiles, his heart giving a small flutter at the unveiled affection shining in Steve’s eyes. “It got us here, didn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Steve whispers softly, leaning his forehead against Tony’s. “It did.”

“So what’s the deal with the reactor then?”

Steve goes very still, his hold on Tony’s waist tightening. “Tony,” he sighs.

Tony knows it’s Steve’s speak for ‘I’d rather not talk about this, and I don’t want to tell you to shut up, but please stop talking’. Knows but ignores it.

Tony pulls back so he could look Steve in the face, wraps his hands around Steve’s neck. “You keep looking at it or touching it- I don’t mind it, don’t look at me like a lost puppy. Okay, I did that one time, but I had some shitty experiences with people pulling it out of my chest. And let me tell you, cardiac arrest? Not fun.” 

Steve’s face goes dark, his eyes narrowing. “Someone pulled it out of your chest?”

Tony ignores his body’s inappropriate reaction to Steve’s low, dangerous growl, focusing on what’s important. “It’s in the past, and he’s dead now, and it’s not important. You, on the other hand, are important,” Tony says, giving Steve a look of weary exasperation that Steve usually gives him. “Come on, Steve, talk to me. Bad things happen when we don’t talk. Remember?”

Steve looks pained for a moment, the muscle in his jaw twitching. He moves his hand up until it rests over the arc reactor. Tony cannot even begin to untangle the complicated knot of emotions in Steve’s eyes as he looks down on the glowing outline, shining faintly under his splayed fingers. “I- I broke it once,” he says in a low, strangled voice, that feels like nails raking across Tony’s heart. “And I will never-” Breaking off, Steve sucks in a harsh breath, locks his gaze with Tony’s. There is something desperate, almost frantic, there. “It shut down the suit. But if this,” Steve punctuates the last word by pressing harder against Tony’s chest, “fails, it’s you, Tony. You’ll die, and I can’t lose you. I can’t.”  

Tony blinks, his throat closing from the sight of raw misery on Steve’s face.

“Don’t be an idiot, Rogers,” Tony manages to force out, caught between wanting to kiss the desperation and naked fear from Steve’s face, or smack him upside the head for being a fool. In the end, he merely pulls Steve’s head down, until it is resting snugly in the crook of Tony’s neck. Steve goes with it easily, his left hand wrapping tighter around Tony’s waist, while his right stays where it is, resting protectively over Tony’s arc reactor. “You’re not going to lose me. I like my life. I get to make the entire world jealous by showing you off.”

Steve lets out a sound that is half way between a sob and a laugh, muffled against Tony’s collarbone. “That a promise?” Steve tries to say it as a joke, but the desperate clutch of his hands tells a different story.

“Yeah,” Tony says, bends down to place a soft kiss against the crown of Steve's head. “That’s a promise.”             

[ecotone99]

[RF] Ten Simple Words

How does this make you feel? Does it make you want to read more?

Ten Simple Words

Sometimes he does something that hurts me so bad, I stop hurting at all. As I squirm in my seat trying to get comfortable, I find myself wishing that last night was one of those times. Every move I make sends waves of searing pain across my entire body. The room starts spinning and I am starting to become dizzy. My eyesight starts to blacken around the edges as the color drains from my face. Just as I am about to pass out, the angry purple belt marks that cover my thighs and backside start throbbing, and I am once again reminded of the misery of my life. No matter how hard I try to suppress these memories, the darkest days of my life just keep coming. I wish someone loved me, I wish someone would save me from this life of torment. The teacher is lecturing in her dull, monotone voice. I am not paying attention to what she is saying. Instead, I allow the monotony in her voice to take me back to the events of last night.

​ Tucked in warm, I am just about to nod off to a deep slumber when I hear a loud noise. Startled, I open my eyes and instinctively my ears go on high alert. I scan the darkness. For a brief moment, I am paralyzed with fear and unable to move. Then the noise continues creeeeak-BANG! creeeeak-BANG! creeeeak-BANG! My heart slows a little when I realize that it is my two-year-old sister jumping in her crib. The jumping is causing her crib to loudly bang against the wall that separates our rooms. I continue to lay there for a few more minutes, waiting to see if she will stop. Five minutes pass, then ten, and the noise continues. Very sleepy and slightly annoyed, I decide to leave the security of my cozy bed and tell her to stop jumping. Not giving it a second thought, I open the door to her room and tell her to please lie down and sleep. At that moment, my stepfather came out of the bathroom and asked what I was doing. Thinking nothing of it, I explained that I had just asked my sister to go to sleep. His face turned crimson and he angrily asked “Are we home?” He meant that since they were home, it was not my place to tell my sister what to do. I apologized and said that I did not really think it was that big of a deal. If I had known those few words would set the next events in motion, I would have said nothing at all. ​ THWACK! I heard the noise of his fist connecting with my face before the pain had a chance to register. The force of the blow causes my head to smash into the door frame behind me. My world goes white and my eyes fill with tears. Panicked, I promptly pivot towards my room and dive into the safety of my bed. It is too late. My stepfather is not through with me yet. In two quick steps, he is in my room. I feel a plucking pain as he grabs a fistful of my hair and drags me out of bed like a rag doll. He throws me towards the window sill screaming at me as I listen to the nauseating sound of his belt unbuckling. “You know what to do, you snobby little bitch!” He shouts. Without hesitation, my hands find the window sill and I brace myself for what is to come. I am not allowed to move. If I move at all, even flinch, I will earn more blows with that stupid belt. I make a desperate plea: “Please, dad, can’t we just talk about it?” My knuckles turn white as I squeeze the window ledge as tight as I can. I am bracing myself for what is to come. My frantic pleas fall on deaf ears. My stepfather raises his arm high over his head and forcefully swings down. The belt connects to my thigh with a sickening “whack.” I start counting the blows in my head, one… two… “I am sorry to hit you like this, but you need to learn to shut your mouth!” He snarls in his throaty voice. It’s as if he thinks that those words can justify his actions. Three… four… and then the blistering pain starts. Five… six… “You aren’t crying. It must not hurt enough!” His voice full of rage. Seven… eight… my face crumples; I am trying to hold back the tears. I have been taught that crying is a sign of weakness, and I cannot be weak. If I am weak, then he wins. Nine… ten… my stepfather grabs me with both hands and throws me back on my bed. “Now go to sleep, you worthless piece of shit!” he yells. And just like that, the beating is over. The weight of the world crushing me; I put a pillow over my mouth to muffle my cry. Pure bitterness and hatred for the unfairness of my existence start to seep from my miserable body. I hate my stepfather for hitting me, I hate my mom for not protecting me, and I hate God for letting this happen to me. Salty tears drip sideways across my nose as I fall into a restless sleep. I know I will have some explaining to do at school tomorrow. ​ The sound of the classroom door creaking open pulls me back to reality. All eyes turn towards the door as an office aide walks in and hands a yellow hall pass to the teacher. Suddenly, my name is being called. The classroom turns mute, the air so still you could cut it with a knife. I wonder what they are thinking as I gingerly get up from my seat, trying not to wince. Pulsating pain ripping through my body is causing my mouth to salivate excessively. I start to taste that salty, metallic taste that I usually get just before I vomit. Swallowing the excess saliva, I also swallow my pride. I take a couple of deep breaths and reach for the hall pass. I see that I am being summoned to the school social worker’s office. My heart starts thumping wildly. It is pumping so strong that my vision pulsates with every beat. The quick thumping of my heart drowns out everything else. I say a quick prayer “please God, please don’t let them find out.” My stepfather might kill me if he thinks I told. I walk out of the classroom and the putrid, metallic taste creeps into my mouth once again. This time, I am unable to breathe it away. I run to the garbage can and with a forceful explosion, the contents of my stomach come spewing out. ​ My knees are wobbling; they are barely able to support my weight. Head hung low, I am too afraid to make eye contact with anyone for fear that they might be able to see through my sad eyes and into the misery of my blackened soul. I take my time walking to the social worker’s office. I am all alone in this world, feeling so vulnerable; my only wish is that someone loved me. My life is so unfair. It probably would be best for everyone if I just kill myself. Nobody cares about me anyway. I am just a burden to everyone. My stepfather reminds me of that every day. My mind is made up: when I get home, I will be ending this broken life of mine. ​ I take a deep breath, slowly exhaling and knock on her door. If only my breath were an eraser that could make these dark clouds disappear. The social worker opens the door with a look of tenderness that tells me she already knows something. “Piper,” she says, “You are safe; your parents cannot hurt you anymore.” And with those ten simple words, my life would be forever changed.

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[ecotone99]

[SP] Pathetic

I've been staring at the TV for the past hour.

Not unusual... In usual times.

The TV's off. It's been off for the past five days, yet I still seem quite content to lounge and stare absent-mindedly at my distorted reflection on the black screen.

I'm glad I can't make anything distinct out... I reckon I'd look as bad as I feel. Ever since the announcement came things have changed.

It was a Sunday night and I was adhering to my tradition of drinking a box of wine and lamenting on how my life at the age of twenty-seven had devolved into a slow, meandering existence. You know, millennial bullshit.

As I was glugging down my fourth, but certainly not my last glass of vino, I was distracted when the TV almost fucking killed me. The speakers must have been blown out by the racket that thundered in. I must have looked a picture; those last drops of wine from the glass caught in my throat and I flapped around like a whale at sea-world desperate to be put out of its misery.

When I regained my composure and assured myself I'd never gain any respect, I stared at the TV which had finally shut up. Now a black screen was dominated by big bold letters -

STAY CALM - A MESSAGE FOR THE NATION INCOMING

What. The. Fuck.

Phone. Contacts. Mum.

Of course she didn't answer. I can picture it now; she's sat in bed, some true-crime documentary playing on the TV, and he'll be lying next to her. When her phone wakes up and my picture appears he'll stare at my mum and give her the it's late honey, we don't have the time to deal with her right now look. She'll return with the Thank god you said it, now I can at least pretend I was coerced into ignoring my only daughter, you're just the best Jimmy, I'm so glad I got married to you and threw that little shit out of our home so we can fuck with the doors open look.

That's it. That's my only point of contact. I felt pathetic at that point. As in, I truly understood what the feeling of pathetic was; there's a physical drop in your stomach and shivers run down your back...you become hot and an overwhelming sense of vulnerability hits you in the core. You could say that wasn't the best feeling to be overcome with as the TV emitted another assault to my eardrums.

The sound dissapated again and this time a voice replaced it almost immediately. It was the voice I had been expecting as soon as I saw the first message. Our great and glorious President.

My fellow Americans. It is with a heavy heart I speak to you tonight. Firstly I am very sorry for interrupting your Sunday evening, I'm sure many of you are quite afraid and concerned right now. I'd love to be able to tell you that there's no reason to worry, but I'm afraid I simply can't...

Phone. Recently Called. Mum

The United States today received information regarding an unprecedented and immovable obstacle to the continuation of not only our own existence, but that of every living thing on our planet...

Call was rejected again. I bet he slapped it out of her hand that time. No way would she ignore me, she must have been watching this as well?

There is an asteroid roughly twelve miles in diamater on a collision course with Earth. Projections are that it will strike us in seven days and the impact will result in the total annihilation of us and our home...

You go through the motions of acceptance incredibly quickly. It's not a drawn out process. I'll explain how mine happened -

Bullshit. He's the president of the United States of America addressing the entire nation. Okay, this is serious.

I know this is quite a shock. I presume many of you are wondering why I am being so open and frank about this. Well... I guess there's no more contingency plans or exit strategies to care about any more. It was important enough that I have decided, against the wishes of my advisors, to tell you the truth and allow you to go out in whichever way you feel is right and justified. I leave you with only one request - depart this world showcasing the best of humanity. Put our compassion, dignity and honour on a pedestal and let us move onto the next great adventure proud. Good luck to you all. Goodnight America

Then it was over. The screen flipped back to my original programming. I can't work out if Kim Kardashian was a vacuous waste of air and cells before or after I realised my world was over and nothing I ever did or dreamed about mattered anymore. Probably before, but I'll give her the benefit of the doubt.

The sound of my phone ringing came at me like it was trapped down a well, far off in the distance. I picked it up and my heart did one of this slight jumps when you get excited.

Mum. I'm scared

It's not your mother, it's Jimmy.

oh...

Look I'm calling to tell you me and your mother have decided to take off. I can't explain and to be honest, I won't. I'm sure you've just heard the president.

Erm okay. Well... Where should I meet you?

Meet us? What are you talking about!

Meet you so we can all be together obviously!

I think you've misunderstood this whole situation. I'm not surprised, you never where very bright... Look. You're not coming with. I called to make sure you didn't come running down here and waste your time. Just stay away from us.

Go fuck yourself Jimmy, put my mum on now!

Your mother doesn't want to speak to you. This has been coming a long time if I'm honest. How could you not see it? The heartache and trauma you have caused that poor woman. You should have the deceny to respect her last wishes and stay away. Don't you dare cause your mother any more heartbreak

I'll hear that from her you teet suckling leach

Then it happened. From somewhere in the background I heard her voice.

Just go away Kate! Jimmy has spoken for the both of us

I like to think she was sat at the dresser table at the side of the bed. Cigarette in hand and her mascara running down her face. Shaking so bad she couldn't get a proper drag and staring vehemently at Jimmy, who had forced her to lose all sense of humanity and compassion.

But it's more likely that OJ is innocent and Twilight is actually a good film if you look at it's artistic merits.

No, she would have been sat at that dresser, ensuring the phone was on loudspeaker and mouthing instructions to Jimmy, getting more perplexed and angry every time I spoke.

But... Mum, please I'm scared

This is where she would have inhaled deep and arched back ready to deliver her knockout punch. Jimmy would have slunk away from the phone, knowing his work was done and he can stand in the shadows and watch the emancipation in peace.

You listen here and you listen good. The last we spoke I told you I'd reached the end of the road. There were no more chances. I cannot go through this anymore and now with all this shit going on... We deserve to have some peace at the end Kate. Please understand, it's not because we don't love you. It's because we can't fucking stand you.

Oh please, you talk as if I killed someone mum! Im sorry I didn't turn out perfect like you wanted-

The phone cut off. She actually cut me off from her reality with the click of button. It wasn't even a click...a lazy moment of the finger and that's it... I'm gone from their lives.

Like millions of others, I cried myself to sleep that night. First it was pity, then anger and then... Just to get it all out. Once sleep came and I woke the next day, I'd accepted it.

The World of course went insane. For the first couple of days we had the news and social media to keep us informed of everything. The riots. The crime. The depravity. So much for humanity. But then, all that stopped as well.

It only takes two days for the World to just stop. Once every single person suddenly just doesn't give a shit... Its all done. Electricity went - no more lights, no more warmth. Thankfully I'd spent wisely as an introvert. I had a deluxe weighted duvet with special microfibres that retain your body heat. God praises those who late-night drunk shop.

You could also live off my supply of ramen noodles and cherry bakewells for a considerable amount of time, so I wasn't concerned with starving. I didn't have much of an appetite anyway. Finally, my brain decides food is no good when getting healthy is the least important factor in my life.

I know other people are with their families. Well, people who aren't rioting or going around unleashing their inner monster, just because they can. I've got a picture in my head of how I think the perfect family are holding up right now.

There's a mum. A dad. A son and a daughter. Their all grouped together in the living room, sitting in front of a massive open hearth fire playing monopoly and drinking hot chocolate. There's a Christmas tree as well, just for the sake of ensuring this cliché rings as true as possible.

The dad rolls a double and fist bumps the air.

"Oh Ronald... You did it again you lucky man," the mum croons whilst stroking his fringe to the side. He beams. The daughter crosses her arms and huffs.

"Not fair!" she says and scowls. Her brother puts his arm around her and leans his head on the side of hers.

"Now, now Lucy... Don't worry, I won't let daddy hurt you,"

The mum suddenly becomes stiff and looks at her son.

"What do you mean by hurt, Blake?" she asks, her voice a bit shaky.

The son looks at his dad who, pale as a ghost now tries to roll again.

"Nothing honey, I'm sure nothing at all. Come on I passed GO!"

The mum looks now at her daughter who is looking at the ground, shooting nervous glances at her dad. Blake is messing with the corner of the board, avoiding eye contact.

"Ronnie... What's going on?" she says now standing up warily. Another round of glances and finally it dawns on her.

"No...no...NO!"

I can't even pretend to know what a perfect family is. My mind so broken and ill from a lifetime of... Life.

Not a single person from my past has phoned me. Well they didn't when the battery was still working. I'll lie to myself until the end - they've probably been ringing non-stop since it went dead.

I'm alone. So utterly alone. And it's the end of the world.

I'm going to die in a couple of days and the only feeling that comes to me now as I sit here staring back at my shadowy image on that black screen mirror is - pathetic.

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