#my whole life ive given everything for the comfort of other people because i know how the neglect feels. shame ill die being nice

[yikes-ajax-thats-sad]

"I love you." Show me something real. Prove it. Sick of these empty fucking words, maybe I'll believe it if your actions ever match your mouth. It's like it's not even your own voice, just lip syncing because saying you love me is that horrible.

[marvel-starwarsfangirl]

Desix vs. Barton IV: how two missions reflect Crosshair's character

I'm back with another Crosshair analysis. One thing I noticed on my rewatch of "The Solitary Clone" and something I discussed with my cousin was the whole mission on Desix. The mission plays out like an episode of Clone Wars. Think about it: Crosshair is under the command of Cody, a seasoned military commander, they have to go fight separatists and droids, and liberate a government official. In Clone Wars, we have tons of characters fighting against separatists in order to liberate something or someone. Even Rebels had an episode like this called "The Last Battle." I personally think that this was intentional. The writers didn't have to bring back Cody or have a whole mission that plays out like a Clone Wars episode. It was something that my cousin said that made everything click: the mission is similar to Clone Wars because it represents everything Crosshair's holding on to.

Before the Republic fell, Cross and his brothers would be constantly going on missions to fight separatists and swarms of droids. In the Empire, the missions are to occupy planets or assassinate potential defectors and anyone who stands against them. When we meet Cross in the second season, he's struggling greatly; his internal conflict his eating him alive. His conversation with Cody at the end indicates just how tormented his truly is. But when he goes on the mission, he's presented with very familiar things that are reminders of days long past: Cody, separatists, and droids. Being a soldier is a big part of Crosshair's identity because he doesn't know who he is without it. I think in his mind, Crosshair continues to hold on to the Empire because of familiar missions like Desix. This reminds him of the good old days and if he can keep it that way, then he'll be fine. After all, this is what he was made to do and it gives him purpose. At the end of the mission, Crosshair shoots the governor after Cody refuses. And in my eyes, there are two interpretations as to why he made this decision. The first being, he's sparing Cody from making a hard choice. Cross is clearly attached to Cody as I mentioned in my past post. When Cody can't take the shot, Cross takes it to spare him from facing the other imperial governor's wrath. The other, even bigger, reason is because he's still holding on to his deep desire for belonging and the past. If Crosshair doesn't shoot the governor, then what happens to him? What happens to Cody? Will he be discarded? Abandoned? Crosshair can't fathom that idea. And so, in order to preserve everything that he fears will be lost, he makes the shot. On another note, Desix's color palette is all warm colors. While not very inviting colors, there's still a warm undertone nonetheless. Warm colors make people feel comforted and that's certainly something Crosshair wants.

Compare that to the mission on Barton IV. Barton IV is an ice planet; it's cold with an even colder color palette. There is no life other than the harshest creatures and people. The faces are also very unfamiliar to both Crosshair and us: Nolan and Mayday. In "The Solitary Clone," we still had Rampart and Cody, two characters we've known for years. If Desix was everything he was holding on to, then Barton IV is the complete opposite. In this episode, we see Crosshair letting go, both willingly and unwillingly. Cody made a choice to go AWOL, but not Mayday. Mayday wasn't given a choice and he died. Crosshair had to witness someone he cared about die before his very eyes. Has that ever happened to him before? Probably not. The mission itself is anything but familiar. There are no droids or separatists. It's actually a very dull and mundane task: watch cargo. When you think of the clones and their purpose, the first that comes to mind isn't watching cargo. And that cargo turns out to be nothing more than equipment for the new recruits aka, not clones. Is this what Crosshair signed up for? No. He's a soldier and the Empire is giving him a purpose. They are willing to keep him and send him out to do missions and maintain its grip on the galaxy. But that's not what we see on Barton IV; Barton IV is where the scrap heaps go: a rookie lieutenant who hasn't been on a mission in his life, unwanted clone troopers whom the Empire could care less about, and a forgotten sniper that desperately clings on to the remnants of his past. This is not a place for anyone.

The juxtaposition between the two is clear as day: Desix is warm and full of familiarity. Barton IV lacks any source of familiarity and is as cold as ice (pun intended).

Furthermore, "The Outpost" is Crosshair's breaking point. After trying to cling on to everything in "The Solitary Clone," he has to let it all go in "The Outpost." There is no life on Barton IV; it's all stripped away. Now that I think about it, "The Solitary Clone" represents Crosshair's mask while "The Outpost" is his true self underneath. The mission on Desix feels very familiar and makes Crosshair feel useful. But in "The Outpost," we see a dull, barren wasteland with a mission as bleak as the terrain itself. Crosshair's internal mental state is also just as bleak. He knows he can't keep going the way he has; all semblance of the old days are gone. The Empire doesn't care if he dies. If anything, the Empire is trying to rush along his deterioration so they can get better replacements.

It's so interesting to see how two different missions on two very different planets can reflect a character's internal growth. Crosshair is such a well written character and I love him so much. He's definitely one of my favorite character of all time.

I do have one more analysis planned, this time on the rest of the BB so keep an eye out for that. Thank you for reading and take care!

[worflesbian]

expanding on prev post by assigning the voyager crew a kate bush song each. obviously the whole of the ninth wave is voyager-coded so it'll have to have its own post and be excluded for this one

janeway: all the love is a very janeway song it's literally about pushing away all the people who are deeply concerned about you - 'the first time i died it was in the arms of good friends of mine'. i'm very torn bc there's So many from the red shoes that are janeway coded but i have to say the wedding list is probably the only one that captures her level of unhinged violence like that's janeway when she's out for blood

chakotay: james and the cold gun is about begging the person you love not to sell their soul to an empty vendetta of violence (see above!). i also quite like reaching out as a chakotay song - 'see how the child reaches out instinctively, to feel how fire will feel, see how the man reaches out instinctively, for what he cannot have... the pull and the push of it all'

tuvok: leave it open! it's such a cerebral song but also kind of guttural at the same time? 'harm is in us, harm in us but power to arm' sounds like something he would say to kes about controlling her telepathy.

b'elanna: under the ivy as mentioned but also hounds of love but ALSO love and anger! i can't even quote a single lyric bc the whole thing is So her and specifically her relationship with tom

seven: immediately i think experiment iv but also mother stands for comfort seems very seven and the borg queen and/or seven and janeway. 'it breaks the cage and fear escapes and takes possession, just like a crowd rioting inside (make me do this make me do that)... am i the cat that takes the bird, to her the hunter, or the hunted?'. i also think suspended in gaffa may not be a seven song tonally but it works lyrically for her relationship to her humanity: 'i won't open boxes that i am told not to, i'm not a pandora, i'm much more like that girl in the mirror, between you and me, she don't stand a chance of getting anywhere at all' 'but sometimes it's hard to know if i'm doing it right, can i have it all now?'

harry: i think army dreamers is a brilliant harry song, it's literally about a golden boy dying young because he dreamed of being in the military. from the perspective of his beloved mother. 'give the kid the pick of pips, and give him all your stripes and ribbons, now he's sitting in his hole, he might as well have buttons and bows'. rocket's tail kind of works as a harry and janeway song - 'and it seemed to me, the saddest thing i'd ever seen and i thought you were crazy, wishing such a thing' (tries going out in a blaze of glory himself) '...was it me said you were crazy?'

tom: night of the swallow!! literally about a criminal pilot - 'oh let me fly, give me something to show for my miserable life, would you break even my wings, like a swallow?'

neelix: I actually quite like never be mine for Neelix, it feels like it could be about all the lives that he could've lived, if his family hadn't been killed, if he'd stayed with Voyager and gone to the alpha quadrant - 'this is where I wanna be, but I know that this will never be mine'. also moments of pleasure seems to capture his attitude to life I think - 'just being alive, it can really hurt sometimes, these moments given, are a gift from time'

the doctor: i want to say deeper understanding bc it is about an ambiguously sentient computer program but on a character level i think he's more sat in your lap, which is about wanting to understand everything and being limited by the capacities of your own mind - 'i must admit, just when i think i'm king, i just begin'

kes: I will admit I'm not a kes scholar but I quite like the big sky for her just for the line 'you never understood me, you never really tried' and this idea that she's always looking up for something larger than herself that other people might not pay attention to

[concealeddarkness13]

WHG 20 Prompt 7 - Chess

Content warning for blood and mentions of rape. Finally got this done! Don’t know how long it is because my document won’t tell me, but it’s long. Tagging: @ratracechronicler, @maple-writes, @pen-of-roses, @drabbleitout (thanks for Beau, Garnet, and Ives!), @grailfish, @forthesanityofsome, and @pied-piper-of-hamlet!

I struggled the whole time the stylist worked on getting me dressed for the interview. I bit him multiple times and kicked him another time, trying to get him to give up and let me walk out in the comfortable clothes I was already wearing. But no. He just called in Peacekeepers who held onto me roughly while the stylist took off my clothes and put on the fucking skimpy dress. It barely had a back, it had a plunging neckline, and the hem barely went past my ass.

I snarled and kept trying to fight as he brushed out my hair and did my makeup. The makeup was bright and glittery. I hated it because I knew why they were doing all this. Even though Ives had helped me by keeping people away from me at night, the Capitol would still try to use me like that.

The stylist sniffed at me. “This wouldn’t be taking so long if you would just stay still.”

A brilliant idea! I moved my head even more, growling low in my throat. The stylist moved away, going quiet, and the Peacekeepers kept my head forward. But I could still see him in the mirrors. He came back with a scissors. I tried to pull away from him. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Realizing my vision! For a feral monster like you who doesn’t appreciate beauty, I think this will be perfect.” I tried to struggle more, but the Peacekeepers held me as the stylist hacked at my hair, leaving it short and uneven.

Tears blurred my vision, and I struggled, actually slipping free of the Peacekeepers as they laughed. “You bastard! We aren’t just dolls for you to fuck with!” I leaped at him, and he screamed, but the Peacekeepers grabbed me again before I could punch him. They pulled me out as I thrashed and screamed, and they put me in line, still holding me so I couldn’t fuck anything else up. I still wasn’t strong enough to fight against trained cops.

I sniffled, and tears started streaking down my cheeks, and I couldn’t even wipe them off. So, I just bowed my head and tried to block everything out.

When it was my turn, Peacekeepers shoved me on the stage, and someone was there to catch me. The interviewer—I couldn’t remember his name for the life of me—laughed and introduced me as the person dragged me to the single chair. I tried to kick and fight them until I looked up and…my mind blanked…

Ashont smirked at me and took advantage of my surprise as he sat down in the interview chair and twirled me onto his lap. He held me tightly enough to bruise, and I just stared out at the audience as they laughed and jeered. They thought I was a monster, but the biggest monster of them all was holding me in place.

The interviewer—I had to call him something else, so Shiny would work—sat down in the other chair and grinned at both of us. “So, tell me about how you met.”

I opened my mouth to say exactly what happened, but Ashont held me tighter as he spoke. “I met her at a bar, and she begged to go home with me. I obliged and gave her a night befitting of a monster like her.”

I stared out at the audience again as they kept laughing. They didn’t care. They never would. Saying what Ashont actually did wouldn’t change anything. They would probably cheer him if they knew.

Shiny continued. “And you must have an eye for tributes. Your tribute did well in the judgment.” Because I had hit a practice dummy enough that it had fallen apart. I had given them a damn show, and they had actually recognized that. Probably just to make Ashont look good. “How did you decide to have her volunteer?”

Ashont opened his fucking mouth, but…but I couldn’t just let him talk over me. I couldn’t just let this happen.

So, I elbowed him in the stomach, and he whined and crumpled, and I stood up, glaring at the audience. I clenched my fists, starting to shake as I yelled at them. “I know you don’t fucking care about me, about what he did to me. If I tell you what he did, you might actually cheer. But there is one thing I will tell you. The tributes in these death games are humans, and you are cheering for our deaths. This is not really a game, these are people’s lives! Wake up! This is not a game!”

The audience went quiet, and someone grabbed me from behind, and I turned around and punched them in the jaw. When it turned out that I had punched Ashont, and he had fallen down, dazed, I followed him and punched him again and again. “We aren’t dolls for you to use! You can’t just do whatever you want to us!”

He screamed, and I couldn’t help but feel a thrill at his damn blood on my prosthetic fist. But then Peacekeepers grabbed me and pulled me back, holding me still as they punched me, and they held me so tightly, I knew there would be bruises all over my arm. Then they let go just in time for one of them to kick me where my real leg was, and I heard a crack as I cried out and fell, curling up as I started to cry. They kept kicking me, and I just tried to protect my head. And the crowd was cheering.

Once I was bleeding from my nose and shaky and hurting all over—not sure if they had broken my leg and arm, at this point—one of them grabbed me by my short hair and pushed me toward the exit. I could barely keep my feet and fell again, and the audience laughed. Ashont said something I couldn’t understand, and the Peacekeepers pushed me into the elevator, leaving me alone once I was in the hallway again. I slumped to the floor and sobbed, not able to move. It hurt. Everything hurt.

What had been the point of that? A tiny hint of satisfaction before they hurt me and took away any hopes that I would be able to be anything but a burden to Triel. I…I had my magic, but would that really balance out the fact that I could barely walk? Fighting back had been pointless, and I had just made it harder for everyone else.

Footsteps approached, and I looked up quickly to see Garnet and Beau skidding on the ground as they scrambled over to me. Garnet knelt down and looked me in the eyes as I kept sobbing. “Chess, I’m so sorry. Are you hurt?”

I tried to wipe at my eyes, but I most likely just smeared blood over my face. “I…I think my leg and arm are broken.”

Beau removed his suit jacket, tearing it into strips. And he even kicked a nearby table, breaking off a couple of its legs. I stared at him as Garnet used his own jacket to wipe at my face, cooing.

“Just take a deep breath,” he whispered. But I couldn’t I was still sobbing. It was all my fault. All of this was my fault.

Beau knelt down as well. “I’m going to try and brace them. I’ll start with your leg.”

I closed my eyes. I didn’t want to see how bad my leg looked. “Why…why did I even try? It’s hopeless. He’s too powerful.”

“No.” Garnet held my face, and I had to look at him, but I couldn’t meet his eyes. “Chess, that isn’t true. It isn’t hopeless. Thinking that is how he wins.”

As Beau worked on my leg, and before I could think of anything to say, there was a crash, and I looked over as shoes squeaked on the floor. Ives rounded the corner, and I sobbed worse. He slid into the wall and pushed off to get over to me. He was even fighting for air. He…he was here. He kneeled down and nudged Garnet away. “I’m so proud of you,” he wheezed.

I didn’t understand. I had…I had just gotten myself hurt. “Why? My…my hair is chopped off because I tried to fight the stylist, and now my fucking arm and leg are broken. Right before the Hunger Games! All I do is just make things worse for myself.” I couldn’t stop myself as I continued. “I went into that fucking bar when I had just lost my memories and flirted with the first bastard who seemed interested. And you know where that got me?” My prosthetic hand clenched into a fist. “He brought me back to his home and he beat me and raped me and cut me open, all the while saying that I’m a monster and I deserved that. Why would you be proud of me? Everything that’s happened to me, I did to myself. I’m not smart enough to know when to not fight back.”

“Why?” His brow crinkled, and I just noticed that his hair was all messy. All that damn perfection gone. “Why wouldn’t I be? You spoke up for yourself. You stood up for yourself. You looked that monster in the eye and you laid into that ugly face of his. You paid him back some of what you owed him.” He cupped the side of my face, and I leaned into his touch. I felt so safe around him. He gently wiped away my tears. “You’re alive. You’re here. That alone is fighting back and there’s nothing wrong with that. Nothing. He had to call in reinforcements, you took him down with your bare hands. You were brilliant!”

But it didn’t matter. “But I got hurt because of that, and I’m a lot worse off for the Games.”

“I honestly don’t give a damn about the Games right now,” he whispered. “You are powerful. And what you said was true and has given hope to other tributes, I’m sure of it. We’ll figure something out about the Games, but right now—”

“Hey!” I jumped and looked over to see a Peacekeeper glaring at us from down the hall. “You need to get this cleaned up! You can’t be soliciting around here.”

Ives ripped another leg off the collapsed table and threw it at the Peacekeeper with barely a glance, and it hit right on his head and knocked them out.

I stared as Ives kept going as if he hadn’t been interrupted. “—I want you to know I’m proud of you. And jealous because I wanted to hit him myself.”

I looked back at him, warmth pooling in my chest. “I…I did good?” I wasn’t a monster? I didn’t deserve everything that happened to me?

“You did great.” He nodded. “I’m proud of you. So proud.” Beau finished bracing my leg and got started on working on my arm.

I winced, trying to move so he had more room. Ives thought I had done well. He…he was proud of me. I hadn’t fucked everything up. More sobs came unbidden, and I could barely see Ives through the blur of all the damn tears. “I didn’t fuck it up? I…thank you. Thank you.” I took his hand in my prosthetic one and squeezed it. I wasn’t alone. I didn’t have to fight on my own.

“No, you didn’t fuck anything up,” Ives whispered sweetly. He held my hand back. “You did a wonderful thing, even when the odds were stacked against you. You did great, Chess.”

I had done well! But I should have known better. My feelings were flipping back and forth from just dwelling on the fact that Ives was proud of me to hating myself for doing something that had gotten me hurt. “But…but…don’t I deserve it? I should have known better than to punch him. I should have known this would happen. I…I don’t understand.”

“The fact you did it regardless. In spite of.” Ives spoke calmly as Beau finished up. He asked Beau to go ahead of us to find some pain medicine.

“I’ll see if I can find a supply closet to raid,” Garnet added as he ran off too.

Ives looked back at me. “I know it feels like a mistake. You got hurt. But the fact that you stood up for yourself takes so much courage. And instilled courage into others.” He got closer, hand sliding under my back. I shivered a little at the touch, but…I wasn’t scared of it like I was when Ashont touched me. And…it felt nice. “Is it alright if I pick you up? It’s going to hurt but I need to get you back to the room.”

I nodded, wincing as he picked me up, but it wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. Not with him here. I hissed and tilted my head. “And once the Games are done, I can burn it al to the ground.” My sobs had died down, but tears were streaking down my cheeks still. “I don’t feel like I did any good, but…I trust you.”

He started walking. “That’s right. You can burn it all then. You did. And you kept your magic a secret. They won’t know what hit them.” We got onto the elevator, and I just cuddled close to him, resting my head on his shoulder. He was so comfortable, and I felt so safe with him. We got back to the room, and he set me down on the bed. I immediately saw more of those fucking black roses and sent a fireball to burn them to a crisp. Ives smiled slightly as he grabbed his chair and sat down next to me. “They’re getting medicine. But what can I do to help now?”

I frowned. Just his presence was enough to help. I brought a hand to my hair as I thought, and it was so fucking short and jagged. The curls were tighter, but I had loved my long hair. I couldn’t help but cry worse again. “My…my hair. I…do you maybe know how to cut it?” Maybe I could at least get a cut I would like more.

He didn’t speak for a bit. “I may be able to. There might be a few styles I could try. Do you have a preference?”

Beau’s and Garnet’s hair was so cool. They had a shorter part on the bottom with longer hair up top. (Author’s note: she’s talking about an undercut, but she doesn’t know how to describe it.) They looked so cool. “Could…could I have something like Beau or Garnet’s hair? I like how short part of their hair is with the rest being longer.”

He nodded slowly. “I think I can.” He took the hair closest to my face, and I had to stop myself from trying to lean into his touch. He was so gentle. He lifted the hair to hold it at a certain length. “Would you like it as short as theirs? Or keep as much length as you can? I think I could get away with getting it down to your cheek.”

I nodded. “If you could get it down to my cheek, I’d appreciate it. I like my hair long, honestly.”

Ives looked at my hair for a bit longer before he left. Beau and Garnet fumbled in, cheering and holding up a bottle of medicine. Ives came back in and set up some things, wrapping a sheet around my shoulders, as Beau held out a glass of water and some pills.

“Okay, Chess, take this, it should help.”

I couldn’t help but smile when I saw them. They were both so kind. I took the medicine as best I could and looked up at them. “I’m getting hair like you guys!”

“What?” Garnet blurted, jumping when Ives turned on the clippers. “Are you sure?!”

I nodded. “I like the short part under the longer part. Maybe I’ll keep the short part when I grow out my hair.”

“It’s nice,” Beau said, going over to sit on the end of the bed. Garnet looked nervous as Ives parted my hair carefully and tied it up.

He paused and looked down at me. “Ready?”

I smiled. “Yes, I’m ready. I won’t let the Capitol dictate what I look like or wear anymore.”

“That’a girl,” Ives hummed, and that warmth returned to my chest. And my cheeks. He was proud of me. He got to work, using the clippers and some scissors to cut my hair, and I stayed as still as I could. Once he was done, he paused. "Like that?"

I first moved my left arm and winced at the spike of pain. So, I changed to my right arm. I felt at my hair, marveling in how short it was. I liked the feel of the shaved part of my hair, the short strands tickling my fingers. It all felt so good! I grinned, still crying a bit. “This feels perfect.”

“Alright.” Ives smiled, stepping around to let down my hair. He parted it and got to work on the longer part of my hair, and I relaxed a little. He would make it perfect.

Once he was done, Beau stood up, hands clasped. “You should wet it some.” Ives turned to look at him, and he nervously looked back. “T-the curls, they’ve separated from moving so much with your hands.” He got another cup of water and wet his hand, carefully using that to wet my hair. “Then, when it’s a little wet, you scrunch sections of it up to your scalp.” He did so, and it felt so nice, that I closed my eyes.

When he was done, I opened my eyes again, tears blurring my vision again. “Thank you,” I whispered.

“Oh, don’t thank me.” Beau smiled and stepped back. “Ives did the hard part.”

Ives was watching me so softly that my cheeks heated up worse, but I powered through the fluster and took his hand. “Thank you so much. I feel so much better with this haircut.”

“I’m glad that you do,” he whispered. “Now, let’s get this cleaned up and I’d like to discuss where we should go from here. About the Games.” He lightly brushed around my neck, getting rid of any loose hair that had fallen around my shoulders. He folded up the sheet and left the room.

I froze a bit at the gentle touch. It was the best feeling. I wanted to hug him so badly, but I did at least remember that he didn’t want to be hugged, so I just nodded as he left. Surely, he could still hear me? “I…won’t really be able to move fast.” My voice was rougher than normal for some reason. “But I do have my magic.”

“Do you think…they can’t expect you to go out there with broken limbs, do they?” Beau frowned. Garnet tapped him on the leg and motioning for them both to leave.

“I’m sure we’ll think of something,” Garnet said. “I think we better change into different clothes. Smell like that Caesar bastard.” Beau shuffled, but another nudge, and he left too. My heart sank. I had been hoping to cuddle tonight.

I frowned, watching after them. “I’ll see you soon, right?”

“Sure!” Garnet called, pushing Beau out of the room with both hands on his shoulders. But why? Why did they have to leave? “We’re just gonna wash up and get ready for bed.”

“But I don’t—” Ives walked in, and Garnet closed the door behind them, cutting Beau off.

Ives sat back down on the chair, not saying anything for a bit. I was still frowning as I felt at my hair again. It felt so good!

“I don’t think it’s right,” Ives whispered, “you going into the arena in your condition.”

I grimaced, pushing the questions out of my mind as I looked back at him. “I…well, I bet Triel can think of something. And I have my magic, so I should be able to keep anyone away from me."

He nodded slowly, clasping his hands with a deep breath, looking at me. I couldn’t look away from his eyes. “I’m going with you.”

My cheeks burned as I processed what he had said. He…he wanted to go with me and help me. “I…I couldn’t ask that of you. You already had to endure that once. I heard it’s awful. And what if you get hurt?”

“I don’t recall you asking. And what if I don’t go and you die? I will always know that there was something more I could have done and failed to do so.”

Tears blurred my vision all over again. Damn, they’d all think I was weak if I couldn’t stop crying. I couldn’t let him get hurt, but I also desperately wanted him with me. “I…I can’t let you get hurt,” I whispered.

“If I’ve done it before, I know what to expect. The chances I get hurt are low to none.” He turned, leaning forward on his knees. “I’ve ran simulations. I know what I’m getting into. It’s my job as a mentor to do whatever I can to make sure you survive. I don’t want to see you get left behind. I want you to escape.”

But it wasn’t fair for him to go back in! But he had already said he wanted to. And he was strong. Way stronger than me. And he was tall, so he could see attacks coming from miles away, probably. I didn’t want to leave him ever. I took his hand and squeezed it. “Okay. I…I want you to go into the arena with me.” I started shaking. “I was terrified of going alone.”

He held my hand between his, so gently. “I know.” He nodded. “I remember that fear, and I can’t let you do this alone. I want to do whatever I can to get you out, to get you safe, and away from Ashont.”

I held his hand tighter, crying from relief. I wouldn’t be going alone! “And I’m going to help you too. I’m going to get you away from this. Since you’ll be in the arena, you’ll be able to go with us then.”

He hesitated, squeezing my hand back, and I tensed. What was wrong with what I had said? He’d gone through hell. He had to escape! “I want to make sure you’re safe first. I can’t—” He choked on his words. “I can’t let you fall behind.”

He had to escape too. I wouldn’t ever leave him behind. “And I’m not going to leave you behind either.” I looked up at him with as much determination as I could muster. “I might be hurt, but I still have my magic.”

He shook his head, eyes starting to look panicked. “No, Chess, please listen.” He almost interrupted me. “I lost more than my freedom in that arena. And I need you to promise me you will listen and do what I say once inside. I need you to listen to me.”

I couldn’t leave him behind! He’d already saved me so many times, why couldn’t I save him too? “I will listen to you, but I won’t leave you behind.” I coughed up a little bit of smoke. I…I couldn’t. I couldn’t live with myself if I left him behind!

“And what if you end up dead? I can’t lose you too.” His words were rushed, and he stumbled on them. “It just –I –it’s fine. That’s fine,” he whispered. He turned away, covering his face with a hand. “Thank you. All I can ask is that you listen,” he choked out.

I swallowed hard and nodded. I had said it before at the visit, and it was still true. “I don’t intend to die.”

“No one intends to die.” There was a slight tremor to his voice. “Not really. But just because you don’t intend for it to happen doesn’t mean it won’t.” His hand was still covering his face.

I coughed up some more smoke. Why wouldn’t he listen? “But I also couldn’t live with myself if I left you in that hell. I know how it is. I know what they do. And I’m not leaving you. I won’t run just because I’m scared.” I just wanted to get close to him and hug him and show him how much I loved him, damnit! I could never leave him! I couldn’t run anymore, I had something bigger to fight for than just myself. Someone so important that I’d swallow down the fear and face the Capitol head on. They wouldn’t want to kill me, not with how Ashont had been acting.

“And I don’t want to exist anymore if I lose someone else I care about to them.” He scrubbed his hand over his face, dropping it and staring at the floor. “I need you to run, to get away. I already saw what they did to you on that stage. I can’t—I can’t lose you. I can’t let Ashont keep doing this to you. I can’t let them hurt you.”

(This section is @drabbleitout’s writing. Since Chess wouldn’t know this, I wanted to add this from Ives’s perspective.)

Ives! Ives!! Ryker broke from the hiding place of the cave, sliding in the churn of sand. Come on, up. Get up. He struggled for balance, dropping his bow as he heaved against the rock pinning Ives' leg. It budged, and Ryker heaved again. But it was too heavy for him, too heavy for Ives in all his titanium strength. Just go. Ives had told him. Go with Triel.

I'm not leaving you behind! And he wouldn't. Stubborn. Foolish. Ives pushed with him, fighting against the wind, the sand, the jolt of earthquakes. The rock rolled free. Come on, Ryker, triumphant and winded, leaning over to help him get up. We did it. We can go home. We don't have to worry about them anymore. He half held Ives up, limping through the shifting sands, Triel and her opening just in sight. We're done. We—

The winds shifted. Ives never caught his last words. A stone, smaller than a coin, barreled through the softness of his throat, blood whisked away in the gale, dropping limp as if some thread that had been holding him up was suddenly cut. The Gamemaster refusing to be cheated. Ives didn't hear the canon, clutching Ryker's neck as they both crashed to the ground, fighting to keep the life in him.

It would be Chess.

(End @drabbleitout’s writing)

Ives just stayed still, repeating the word “no” over and over.

I stared at him and scooted forward, taking hold of his hand as I started sobbing and coughing up smoke. “Ives? Ives! You…you showed me that I could live! That I could fight! I could never leave you. They’re not going to let me die because of Ashont. I can use that.” I held tightly to his hand, blinded by tears. “You treated me like a person. I can’t give up on you. I love you!” I froze at that. I hadn’t wanted to admit it out loud.

“Stop,” he wheezed, eyes closed as he shook his head. One side of his body went limp, and he tilted, leaning against the bed. “Please don’t say that. It’ll be your biggest regret. It’ll kill you. I can’t lose you. I have to get you to Triel. I have to get you out of the arena.”

I shook my head, not letting go of his hand. “My biggest regret would be leaving you behind to suffer. I…I can’t promise you otherwise, Ives. I’ve barely been able to make a fucking good decision without it seeming to have nothing of value. I’ve fucked everything up. I have to be able to decide this on my own. I won’t have someone else tell me what to do when I’m so against it. Not even you, love.” My cheeks burned worse.

“They’re pitting the Games against you.” His voice scrubbed. “What if I lose you? What if I lose you too?”

“I can’t guarantee that it won’t happen, but I’ve got really awesome magic and a major creep who wants me alive, so if I’m trapped, maybe you’ll just have to come save me.” I tried to smile, seeing if that would make him feel any better.

“Trapped?” His voice was so small. Fuck, wrong response. “That’s what I don’t want to happen. I don’t want that. Do you want to be stuck with Ashont? I don’t understand.”

I shook my head, trying to think how to salvage this. What I could say to convince him. “Of course not, but if it means you get out, I don’t care. Please.”

“And what about me?” He looked at her, and my heart broke at the pure pain in his eyes. “What if I care? What if I don’t want him to put a hand on you ever again? What if I don’t even want him to look at you? It’s fine for you to be left behind, and I’m supposed to live with all these ghosts? I get to stare down eternity knowing I let you both slip through my hands and didn’t even try to grab hold? I don’t want out if it means living with ghosts.”

My cheeks burned worse. Me neither. I couldn’t leave him. I perked up a bit as I finally had an idea. “How…how about this? We hold onto each other’s hands and don’t let go. If one of us is being captured, and we can’t stop it, we hold on tight instead. If one of us escapes, we both escape.”

He blinked, not looking up as a tear slipped down his cheek. “If one of us escapes, we both escape,” he repeated softly.

I slumped down, relief finally allowing me to relax. He had listened to me. He let me make my decisions. I pressed my forehead to his hand that I still held as I sobbed. “Thank you. Thank you. I can’t…I can’t lose you.”

He turned his hand and brushed the hair from my face, gently stroking his thumb across my forehead. He frowned, leaning forward and cupping the back of my head to press our foreheads together. “If one of us escapes, we both escape.” He closed his eyes.

I just stayed there, reveling in his touch as I calmed down. I looked up at him as my tears died down. “Can…can I hug you? I…” My voice cracked. “I love you.”

He tensed, and my heart sank. I shouldn’t have asked that. He didn’t like hugs. But then he breathed out and relaxed, nodding. He didn’t speak right away. “I think…I’d like that,” he whispered. He gave a watery smile, his expression heartbreakingly frail.

I nodded and scooted closer. I could never hurt him. I could never leave him. I had to awkwardly hug him with one arm, but it still felt so nice. I nuzzled my face into his shoulder and breathed out slowly, relaxing completely. “You’re so comfy.”

He moved closer and wrapped an arm around me, holding me close. I felt so damn safe. “I’m glad.” He sounded unsure. “Ironic, though. As I was meant to be dangerous. A weapon.”

“Don’t give a fuck what you were meant to be,” I muttered, enjoying his warmth. “I’m meant to be a monster.” I laughed a little. “I also just feel so safe with you. I know you’d never hurt me.”

“But you aren’t a monster, you know.” He tilted his head against mine. “Thank you, I’d say the same, but it may not hold as much weight considering you’re not quite yourself at the moment.” He laughed softly, not hugging as tightly, but I didn’t want to move away.

I frowned, confused. “How am I not completely myself?”

“Well, your arm and leg is broken. I don’t know that it would be as impactful to say I feel safe when you’re injured.”

Oh! I laughed a little and looked up at him. I wasn’t about to stop hugging him though. Hugs were the best feeling in the world. “I can still use my magic though. I’m not helpless.” I tried to sound lighthearted.

“That’s true. You could melt me down if you wanted. So I suppose it is true. I do feel safe with you.”

My cheeks burned, and I smiled more at that. He felt safe with me too! “And it’s not just that I don’t think you’ll hurt me. I…I feel safe to let my guard down around you. That you won’t…do what Ashont did.” I didn’t want to mention it again.

Ives leaned back to look at me. “What…what did he do to you?” he whispered, eyes full of concern.

I deflated a bit, but I nodded. “The first thing I remember at all is being in the Capitol, near a bar. And I needed information, so I went in and talked with someone who caught my eye. He flirted with me and gave me information, and I—like the fool I am—decided to go back home with him. There he…” I paused, swallowing hard. “He locked me in his room with him, where he…” I looked down away from Ives. I didn’t want to see his reaction. “He raped me and cut me and bruised me, calling me a monster at every turn. I…I wasn’t strong enough to get away, so he kept me all night and did that to me the whole time. And then he sponsored me as a tribute in the morning.” I blinked away my tears. I couldn’t keep crying.

I could feel his eyes on me. “Chess,” he whispered, taking my hand again. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry that monster did that to you. When you were looking for help. And then to send you here.” He shook his head. “He’s the monster, not you.”

I nodded. “That’s why I had to hit him. I couldn’t just stay quiet, no matter how smart that would have been. I couldn’t be near him for another second. He…he terrifies me.”

“I understand.” He nodded. “And I’m proud of you. For showing him you’re not powerless. Or simply going to be his play thing.”

I squeezed his hand, finally looking up at him, and there wasn’t any pity in his eyes. “You’re the first person who was kind to me. I…I trust you with my life.”

“Oh.” He didn’t look thrilled about that. Fuck. I kept messing everything up. “I…I hope that’s not the reason you trust me. And…and besides, I’m sure people were kind before.” He looked away but didn’t move his hand.

I deflated more. I had just made him uncomfortable. Anyway, how could he love someone like me? I was too weak, while he was strong and amazing and beautiful. “I-I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” He looked back at me. “No, there’s no reason for that. Please don’t apologize. I didn’t mean to –I just want you to know you deserve to hold a higher standard. To have more than just someone who shows you kindness. Kindness should be mandatory.”

I tried to blink back tears again as I looked up at him. “But you’ve been more than just kind. You gave me your jacket and then your shirt to help me feel more comfortable. You helped calm me down after a nightmare. You let me have pizza, and you let me hold your hand when…well, I believe similar things have probably happened to you as what happened to me. I don’t…I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, but I want you to know that I’ll never do something like that to you either. You’ve been so kind to me, and you even guarded my door every night. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, but I really have to admit it. I…I think I love you.”

He nodded, but he then stared at me. “Love?” he whispered. “I’m…I’m not uncomfortable. I just...I don’t think it’s wise to feel that way for me. I have a…a bad track record.”

I frowned, thinking back to what Triel and Nesri said. “I don’t know much about it, but I’ve seen Triel and Nesri together, and they say they love each other, and I want to be close to you like that and never leave your side and see you smile and help you do things you want to do and…and hug you and cuddle.” My cheeks burned worse as I finally stopped my ramble. But…but the cuddling could be taken wrong! “Not like that!” I blurted. “I mean, maybe someday if you were interested and we both felt safe and comfortable doing that with each other. And…I don’t know, I don’t feel this way about anyone else who’s been kind to me, and I feel very safe around you, and I feel like I can really open up and be myself around you, and…and…I don’t know.” My cheeks were burning as I finished my ramble.

Tears came to his eyes, and I panicked worse. “I…I shouldn’t. For caution and responsibility as your mentor, I shouldn’t. But I’d like those things for you as well. But I…I’m scared. I’m scared having you associate with me that closely will cause you harm. It has before. I—” He stopped himself, steadying himself. “The Games, when I was the victor, I lost the person I loved because he loved me. He came back for me when they shouldn’t have and it cost him his life. I don’t want you to lose your chance of freedom, or your life, over something like that.”

He had already lost someone he loved. Tears welled in my eyes all over again, and I squeezed his hand. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry that happened to you. I don’t want it to happen again.” I paused, still feeling sad that he didn’t want me to protect him. “But you would do that for me, right? Why can’t I do that for you?”

“Because I can’t do it again.” He bowed his head and closed his eyes. “I can’t…I don’t want to exist if I can’t protect those I care for. I don’t want to be left behind again.”

I nodded. “I…I understand. That’s why the promise we made is good. It means neither of us will leave the other behind.”

He didn’t speak right away, but he nodded, wiping at his face. “Sorry,” he whispered. “You’re right. We won’t. We’ll take care of one another.” He looked up at me, and I got lost in his bright blue eyes for a bit.

“We will. We’ll protect each other. I still have my magic.” I winked, squeezing his hand. My gaze wanted to wander down to his lips, but I kept it from doing so. I leaned forward to whisper in his ear, but damn. For some reason, I wanted to nibble his earlobe. “And please don’t apologize. I love you.”

He nodded, relaxing. “Is…is it alright if I can’t?” He spoke at a whisper too. “If I can’t say it just yet, if I’m not…I don’t want to be unfair.” His voice trembled.

I would never say something to try and make someone feel like they had to say it back. I only said it because I felt it so badly that I had to say it. “Me telling you that doesn’t mean you have to say it. I’m just reveling in being able to say it.”

He laughed a little, tilting his head so our temples were touching. “Thank you, for being delicate with me. I haven’t had that in a long time.” He took my hand, leaning back and bringing my hand to his lips, where he kissed the knuckles. My cheeks burned. “And I promise to never treat you the way Ashont has. I’m far too familiar with it, and I never want to make someone feel that way –certainly not you.”

I didn’t know why, but I wanted to nibble his ear. It was something I could do that wasn’t sexual. I didn’t really understand it, but I wanted to at least try it. “I trust you completely. I trust you never will.” I leaned back a bit, looking him over with curiosity. He was so pretty, but it was more than that. It was just interesting to see him, really see him. “Could I…play with your hair? And maybe nibble your ear? It…it looks fun. And not in a sexy way! Just in a…curiosity way?” I tilted my head, my cheeks burning worse.

He smiled softly and stood, moving so he was sitting on the bed with me. Right next to me. I could feel his heat even better now. He turned to face me, still smiling. “Thank you for asking,” he whispered and nodded. “I don’t know how much fun that could be, but, for the sake of curiosity, yes. You can.”

I reached up and ran my hand through his hair. It always looked so perfect, except for today, so I was surprised not to feel product or anything in it. “It’s so soft,” I breathed. And then I got bold enough to lean forward and nibble on his ear lobe. It was so soft, and damn, it felt nice to do. A sound escaped my lips and I nibbled again. It made me feel better, more relaxed and less stressed.

I could feel him shiver, and I pulled back a bit, but he didn’t look upset. “What you expected?” he chuckled.

I turned playing with his hair into a massage, still nibbling. It left little indentions in his skin, and I wondered at it. That I could do something like that. “It’s fun. Is it okay if I do it sometimes?”

He leaned into my touch. “I don’t think it should be a problem,” he whispered. “What about you? Is there anything you’d like from me?”

My cheeks burned worse. I had a choice about what I wanted. I smiled softly. “Could…would it be okay if we cuddled tonight? Clothes on? Not…not in a sexual way?”

��Cuddling?” He glanced at the bed. “That won’t hurt your wounds, will it? Would there be a better side for me to lie on?”

I tilted my head. “I…don’t think it will matter. But maybe I can sleep on my right side?”

He nodded, leaning back. “Alright. And you’ll tell me if you’re uncomfortable, won’t you?” He slowly stood, stepping around the bed and adjusting the pillows.

I nodded. “Thank you. But also…” He had only asked what I had wanted. But what did he want? “Is…is there anything you want to do? I’ve just been asking about what I want. That’s not fair.”

He paused, staring at me as he held a pillow. He glanced around, looking confused. “Well, I, I’m not made to need sleep, or food, or anything really. I don’t think there’s anything.”

I hadn’t asked about what he needed but what he wanted. I frowned. “But is there something you would like? Something you’d prefer? That would be one-sided if it was just about what I wanted. I don’t want to be like any of those bastards who tried to sleep with either of us.”

Ives slowly sat down, not saying anything. It took a while, the shadow of memory making him look at something I couldn’t see. “I like my hair brushed.” His voice sounded dry.

I looked around, but there wasn’t a brush, so my hand would have to do. I sat up and ran my fingers through his hair again, mussing up his hair. “There’s no brush, so is this okay?”

He closed his eyes, bowing his head to help me reach. His shoulders relaxed, his brows wrinkling, so I guess it was good. He looked like he was enjoying it, in an aching way.

This was a precious moment, something I didn’t want the rest of the world to see. It was just us, and it would only ever be us. I started massaging his scalp and leaned in, nibbling on his cheek. Those same indentions happened, and I smiled. I could make him feel good. I could help someone feel safe and loved. I could do positive things. Not everything that I did was a failure.

He opened his eyes when I leaned away, and his eyes were filled with curiosity. “You like to use your teeth. It…it doesn’t hurt me, I don’t mind it, but do be careful. I’m not flesh and muscle like a person. It’s steel underneath.”

I laughed a little, continuing to run my fingers through his hair in between massages. I never wanted to stop. “And I was just about to take a big bite out of you. Fuck me.” I said it as sarcastically as I could.

He leaned back, taking my hand from his hair with a serious expression. Fuck, had I done something wrong? “You know that, don’t you? I’m not human like you. I’m sure you’ve heard people…talk. But I should make sure you know I’m like Beau. Built and designed to look human but I’m not.”

I had to take some deep breaths so I could process what he had said. “I don’t care what you are. You’re a person, like me. But I had guessed from some things I had heard. But I don’t care. You’re Ives, that’s it.”

He looked dumbfounded. “Alright,” he barely got out. “Just…just be careful with your teeth.”

I smiled and nodded, tentatively tangling my fingers back in his hair. “Of course. I want to be careful with you. I don’t want to hurt you. If there’s something you don’t like that I do, please let me know.” My eyes flickered down, eyeing his very nibble-able neck.

“I don’t think your teeth would hurt me.”

I nodded with a hum and leaned forward, carefully moving his turtleneck down a tiny bit and leaning forward to nibble on his neck. But he tensed and froze as I started to nibble, but I stopped as he spoke.

“I…I don’t,” he stammered. “I don’t like that.”

I immediately moved back, away from him to give him space, but I saw part of his neck as I did so. People…people had hurt him. There were cuts and indentions of chains and I could see underneath. I blinked and looked away quickly. He didn’t want me to see. “I’m…I’m sorry. I won’t do that again.”

He reached out and grabbed my wrist gently, keeping me from moving away too far. “You don’t have to –I like having you close. Unless it’s too much. I just,” he struggled. “It’s difficult to be touched there.”

I nodded and looked up at him, taking his hand. “What was done to you, it’s not right! None of it. And I’ll listen to you. I want to be close, but I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. Ever.” I had to blink back tears. I knew the feeling all too well of suffering pain and not wanting anyone to see it.

He nodded, holding tightly to my hand. “Thank you,” he whispered. “And I know that you will, you just did.” He smiled softly for a second, and my cheeks burned again. I loved seeing him smile. “I think, perhaps, it’s something that may take me time to get used to. Because I do feel comfortable with you. I know that you wouldn’t hurt me and that you lo-…care about me.” He swallowed. “It’s just ghosts. Trying to forget the ghosts.”

I nodded and leaned against him, still holding his hand. My eyes were getting heavy. “I have ghosts too. It’ll take time for both of us.”

Ives nodded, taking a deep breath. He lay down, carefully convincing me to lie down too. “I don’t know that I can explain how thankful I am.” He stared up at the ceiling. “That you’re this kind to me.”

I smiled softly and snuggled up to him, careful to not touch his neck. I had to nibble on his shoulder over his shirt, even if it wasn’t as pleasing to do. “Well, same for me. You could have just not explained anything and not cared, but you did. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he whispered. “I don’t think it’s right anyone wanted to hide anything from you. Just like your memories. I can’t help but think that was on purpose.”

I snuggled my face into his shoulder. “I wouldn’t be surprised.” I sighed. “I just wish I knew what happened before all this. How I even got these fucking prosthetics.”

“Aeflin,” he whispered and didn’t say anything else.

I looked up and blinked. “Who’s Aeflin?”

“She…well, I don’t really know her. I only know of her. She worked for the Capitol, running the experiments –like what happened to you. But I believe Ashont had you taken from them and your memories removed so that he could, well, do whatever he liked with you.” He tilted his head and looked at me.

I blinked. This didn’t make sense. “The Capitol runs the experiments? He…he said rebels gave me these and that was why I was a monster. Because they wanted to use me as a weapon to destroy the Capitol.”

“I don’t mean to say you should trust me as a reliable source, but is he someone you should believe?” He shook his head. “Triel informed me that he’s lying. It wasn’t rebels. Why would rebels do the same thing to people the Capitol is doing?”

“People do some stupid things when they’re desperate.” I shrugged. “But I trust you and Triel over him.”

“I believe Triel as well. She’s worked tirelessly against the Capitol. For years.” He gently brushed his fingers over the shaved part of my hair, and I shivered happily and snuggled my face in his shirt at the ticklish sensation. “But I don’t believe Ashont has ever done anything honest, or with intention that isn’t for his own desires. I’m sorry you had to pay for it.”

I didn’t know what to say to that. I still had the nagging thought that it was my fault I had been in that mess. “I’m sorry you had to pay for the Capitol’s cruelties too.”

He paused but soon continued brushing his fingers over my hair. “We don’t have to talk about things if they make you uncomfortable. But I appreciate your sympathy. I don’t think there are many people who understand what that’s like.” He relaxed more, and I did too. I felt so safe around him.

“I don’t remember everything the Capitol did to me, but they’ve done enough to me now to understand at least a little. And it’s not okay. I want…I want to help you feel comfortable in your own skin. I know how it feels not to be.” I had felt dirty and uncomfortable until Ives had touched me so gently.

“And I’d like to do the same with you. To help you feel comfortable, to not be treated this way or reminded of what they can get away with.”

I…I had no idea how to respond. “Not sure how to even do that.”

“I don’t exactly know either. But I think the first step will be getting out of here alive.”

I nodded. “Both of us.”

“Both of us.” He brushed through my hair again.

I hummed with a smile and closed my eyes. “I love you,” I mumbled. Even my voice sounded sleepy.

“I do…I care about you too,” He stammered.

“Thank you,” I mumbled. “I thought everyone would hate me. Thank you for caring.”

“How could I not?” he whispered.

I looked up at him again, confused. “I’m loud and rude and like to pick fights. And I’ve got a fuck ton of baggage, even if I can’t remember it.”

“You give others what’s due.” He shrugged. “I can’t fault you for protecting yourself. You’re also respectful, outgoing, resilient, and your happiness is infectious. I honestly don’t see the cons.”

My cheeks burned all over again. “I yelled at you after the chariots. I don’t think that was due to you.”

“Perhaps not, but I understand why you did. I didn’t take it personally.”

I shifted a bit so I was lying more on top of him. He was more comfy than the shitty, too-soft mattress anyway. “But still I’m sorry. I was scared of you seeing me as weak. Of anyone seeming me that way.” I paused, sadness bleeding into my voice. “I still am.”

“We’ve discussed this,” he whispered. “You aren’t weak. If the tables were turned. What would you say about me?”

I thought about it. It felt different, thinking of Ives being in my place. “I’d want to kill the people who did that to you. I do. And…” I blinked. It…it wasn’t different for Ives if he was in my position. I was just seeing what happened to me as some kind of distorted viewpoint. Right? It…it really wasn’t my fault? “It’s the system that put you in that position that’s the problem. Being weak…isn’t a bad thing.” I blinked, my mind filling with static for a bit. “Just because someone’s weak, doesn’t mean that anyone has the right to hurt them.” I…I hadn’t thought of it that way.

He hummed in agreement, his hand cupping the back of my head with his thumb rubbing back and forth behind my ear. “You’re right. Regardless of anyone’s strength, no one has the right to hurt them. Or do anything they don’t agree with. And the same could be said about you concerning the system.”

I nodded, leaning into his touch. His achingly gentle touch. “I just realized that. I’ve hated myself for being weak. I thought it was my fault because I was weak.” Tears blurred my vision. “It…it was never my fault that he did that to me.”

“No,” Ives agreed softly, smiling. “It was never your fault. You aren’t a monster.”

I sat up more and took his hand. “You too! Whatever the Capitol did to you in the arena and beyond, it’s not your fault! It’s the twisted system that put everyone there!”

“It…” He paused, the struggle clear on his face. “Being in the arena and what happened beyond, was not my fault. But what happened there. I made mistakes. I caused an accident. That I am responsible for, regardless of the reason we were there.” He looked down at me. “I owe him that much, to take responsibility.”

I looked back at him, blinking back the tears. “I made mistakes. I should have seen the signs that he wasn’t good. I shouldn’t have agreed to go back to a stranger’s home. Does that mean I should take responsibility for what came of my own mistakes? That I should blame myself for what happened?”

“I don’t know how to explain it,” he said softly, looking away. “My mistakes caused someone their life. I’m trying to come to terms with it. It’s only…recently that I’ve accepted this isn’t punishment for that. That this shouldn’t happen.”

I hesitated. It didn’t seem that much different than what happened to me, but I didn’t know what happened to him, not really. So, I nodded. “I…I understand. And if it’s still gonna be difficult for me to accept that what Ashont did wasn’t my fault, then I can’t tell you you can’t feel the same. But I’ll help you anyway I can with that.”

He nodded, not speaking for a while. “If one of us escapes, we both escape. Even from our pasts. Even from what they’ve done to us. Thank you for being understanding.”

I smiled and leaned in to nibble on his cheek. “Thank you for being understanding too.” I settled back down, nuzzling my face into his shirt. “I’m so glad I won’t be alone going into the arena.”

“You shouldn’t have to, no one should,” he whispered. “But Triel will have everything in order, and you won’t have to worry about the Capitol or Ashont anymore.”

I smiled. “You won’t either.” He tilted his cheek against my head, and my eyes grew too heavy, and I held on tightly to him as I fell asleep.

[lateassignment]

you know. its like. im sorry for the things ive done and said and thought in this life. i dont understand how it is not obvious that im sorry. I dont understand who i am supposed to apologize to. The tell tale heart seems to be beating, yet i have told the tale and it still beats.

I don't understand why people seem to think that what i go through is nothing. I understand that it is not everything. but its not nothing. and i do my best, i have always done my best not to think of what other people have gone through as nothing. and i have done my best to reflect and i have done my best to learn and stay positive and i am sorry.

I don't understand what is going on and i am trying to find a solution that fits but nothing ever does. there are broken pieces everywhere and i am tired of walking around them. i am trying to clean them up

Im trying and im sorry? but sometimes i dont even know what im sorry for. sometimes i do. but sometimes its like the world expects an apology for an action that exists out side of my own meta. like i must apologize for shooting some sixth dimensional being in the heart when i woke up.

im sorry for it all. it feels like what the world wants if for me to kill my self. or someone else. it feels like all anyone ever wants is blood. I mever wanted to be like that.

I spent my whole like hoping that what i knew about the world was false. that the evil acts people committed were from pain and pain alone. I wanted it to be true so badly. And its so silly. I know. I just wanted the people that said they loved me to be telling the truth.

I wanted love to be something that is given with clarity and choice. I wanted there to be a reason behind all this. Some great experiment, or maybe no reason at all. just silly animals just stumbling around hoping to find shelter and comfort.

It is childish to think that. But I never believed in purity, i never believed in a villain. I believed i corrupt systems, i believed in hurt people, i believed that redemption was the natural path.

and it's silly. i know, and i knew that there are people who crave power. i guess i blamed it all on ignorance, on people closing theyre senses to pain because they did not want to be the cause of it. because growing hurts.

and i still believe in all of those things. I think. Im not even sure what has changed. I believe, and always have in small evils. I have believed and always have believed in the strange complexity. I have tried again and again to let go of good vs evil. of one vs the other. its just us and often times we disagree

but you can not win a war that you refuse to fight, and you can not survive it either.

and i have never believed in monsters. i am always digging some grave for the next person i must bury. because i cant stand the idea that they wont be able to rise from the dead.

and it gets better as you get older. they always say that. but it has just been getting worse.

I am crazy and I am crying and I am wishing that the foundations of the world were not cracked.

Sometimes I wish i knew how to go in and fix it all. Sometimes i think that to fix it the whole thing must be torn down. Sometimes I thing the foundation is rotting anyways, and it will fall in its own with me inside. and sometimes i think that the only reason anyone cares is the crack has let in the smell of decay

[shaemed]

rambling in the middle of the night to get my thoughts in order

this is my first time actually dating more than one person at a time. ive known im non-monogamous for like 3 years at this point but ive never been able to really act on it, so this feeling is... really new to me. i never really understood how it would feel. there was a part of me that thought it would feel like partitioning my heart per person but i really should have known im way too fucking adhd and momentary and bokononist to be that organized. it's more like my whole ass heart is beating however it wants to on a per person basis.

im having to reevaluate the wording of a lot of my feelings despite not a single one changing. take my life partner for example: xey are my partner, the person i trust more than anyone, the person i work with, who i want to live with, and who i feel most compatible with. but the question comes up like, do i specifically love xem more than other people? ...maybe? maybe not? i guess the real, more honest, and probably healthiest answer is: "who fucking cares?" love is not a promise, it's not a debt, it's a feeling. i love my life partner, i feel completely comfortable being entirely myself with xem, my heart beats out of my goddamn chest for xem, and holy shit does the sex rule. why should literally anyone else factor into that? they don't have to. and they shouldn't. my love for xem is it's own thing, i love xem for xem, i always have--no one and nothing else is part of it.

i think really i was still a little adherent to cishet monogamous relationship standards. that The Relationship has to be entirely above everything else, and honestly FUCK that. we are our own people. im not [partner's name]'s girlfriend, im shae. what i do for xem, i do because i want to, not because our relationship is inherently more important or something. that philosophy is part of what's helped us be so healthy for each other. we're not responsible for each other, we don't need each other. we're here because we want to be. and we can always change our mind. we can say no, we can ask for things, make our wants clear, set boundaries, whatever. we're our own people. and that's the raddest part. i get to love xem for xem and nothing else.

i think that adherence is responsible for another anxiety: that i can't date other people because i don't know if i can be consistent with them, give them enough attention. funny thing is, that's an anxiety i also had as soon as my life partner came to live with me, and... it wasn't a problem. we figured it out, we give attention when we want to; and if we want or need it, we ask for it. we're not responsible for each other and if we need or want something, we can ask. and we can also always say no. assuming was a thing we killed pretty early on in our relationship. so what attention is being given here that couldn't also be figured out in another relationship? im adamant about being as close to as healthy as i am with my life partner with anyone im romantic with, so what's the risk in attention? there really isn't one.

so, the situation: im dating two people at the same time and going, "well shit, my heart's beating just as hard ain't it?" and that's cool, it's rad, it can be just as healthy and i get to learn a new person and figure out what works for us. it doesn't have to mean anything bad and things are okay. i trust myself, and i know ill figure out whatever i need to. i think i am realizing there's probably less of a relationship hierarchy for me as i once thought but who cares? it honestly doesn't change a thing about how i feel. and that's cool.

[edna-skiffens]

The Best Medicine

Summary: You are in the hospital, but you can never sleep in hospitals. Good thing you have a very attractive night shift nurse who is willing to help out.

Word Count: 4.5K

Warnings: hospitals, light med talk, bad medical writing, fluff

A/N: Please ignore the plot holes or the fact that this isn’t the most realistic and also I know this isn’t how discharge works at the hospital.. It’s called fiction for a reason, darling. Also, I left the reason the reader is in the hospital open ended bc some of us may have medical conditions/reasons that we can attach to this, but if not I tried to keep it vague enough on purpose so that you can imagine whatever. Also if you like Nurse!Tom and have requests for him lmk bc i’m happy to write for him.

Toss and turn. Toss and turn. The routine was getting old. This was your third night in the hospital and sleep just wasn’t coming to you.

Maybe it was the medicine they had you on. Maybe it was the constant symphony of sounds and people passing in the hallway. Maybe it was because you weren’t at home in your own bed.

Maybe it was just because you were in the hospital.

You couldn’t be sure. What you were sure of is that you weren’t falling asleep anytime soon.

Feeling another presence in the room, you looked from the ceiling to the doorway where you saw Tom, one of the night shift nurses, standing cautiously.

“I didn’t wake you did I?” He asked as he eased his way inside.

“Nope.”

“So no sleep again, huh?”

“Nope.”

“Sorry darling. Let’s go ahead and get these vitals over with.” He took your blood pressure, oxygen levels, temperature and wrote it down in your chart. Putting the clipboard back on its hook at the end of the bed, he looked up at your tired face. “Okay. So now about that sleep. What do you think will help?”

“Not being in the hospital.”

He chuckled lightly while walking back towards your bedside.

“I know. You hate it here. You’ve made that very clear and I try not to take too much offense to it.” You let out a slight laugh and held back the fact that he was the best part of this whole experience. He almost made it worth it. “I’m sorry we can’t give you any sleeping medication. Do you think it’ll help if I talk to you?”

“You mean tell me bedtime stories?” You couldn’t help but tease him at the adorable suggestion, though it sent a swarm of butterflies off in your stomach.

“I was thinking more like bore you ‘till you fell asleep. But whatever works.”

“You’re the nurse. If you think it’ll help.” You both sat there smirking at each other for a moment. Something unspoken floating in the air between you two.

“Well, I need to finish my round of vitals first. I’ll come check on you when I’m done and if you’re still up we’ll see about those stories.”

“I’ll be here.”

About fifteen or twenty minutes later you heard a light tap on your door followed by “Still awake?”

“Always.”

“You up for a chat?” Tom asked as he made his way to the stool then rolled slightly closer to your bed.

“Got nothing better to do.” You teased again.

“Okay. Well you should probably lay down.”

“Oh. It’s going to be that kind of story, huh?” His laugh was so beautiful and you were happy you were the cause of it.

“No.” He corrected in between laughs “The goal is to get you to sleep. So sitting up won’t help.”

“Right. Right.”

“Well.. anything in particular you’d like to talk about?”

“Why did you choose to become a nurse?”

“Ahhh. Good question. So I actually went to an art school.” You couldn’t help the brief expression of surprise that crossed your face. “I know. Shocking. I did training specifically in dance and gymnastics and I loved it.”

“Wait, so what happened?” You asked, turning on your side to face him more comfortably.

“Well one day we were rehearsing for a show and I fell. Ruined my knee. Had to do physical therapy for months. I tried to get back into it, but it just wasn’t the same. However, through that process I learned a lot about medicine and the health side of things. It really turned me on to it. And when my Plan A got a bit messed up I thought ‘hey, this could work’. So far it’s treated me pretty well.”

You smiled at Tom, admiring his passion for his career and the determination he had to keep pushing after his accident. You enjoyed hearing him talk about it too. If you didn’t know any better you would say it was helping you relax.

“My story that boring?”

“Obviously.”

“Your sarcasm has no end.”

“Oh… goodness.. you thought that was sarcasm?”

Tom only laughed and shook his head the way he often did with you.

You may just have been his patient and he may have just been your nurse, but you both bonded. He kept you company and gave you comfort. In return, you kept him entertained during the quiet night shifts.

“I’m not going to sleep. I'm just resting my eyes. But still listening.” You told him as you nestled further into the hospital bed, trying to find a position that would make it comfortable.

“Okay, darling.” He grinned at you.

“Tell me more. What kind of-” You had to stop to yawn, “What kind of art stuff did you do?”

“Oh. Well, I was in a few musicals. I really enjoyed dancing. I did ballet ever since I was young and I love the control I have over my body. The tricks I can do with gymnastics or the turns and leaps. I mean I can’t do them to that level anymore, but I try to stay active.” He glanced up and noticed you hadn’t moved, “Are you still with me?”

“Mhm.” You barely respond.

“Okay. Well it was a performing arts school so we really were trained in many areas. We had classes in acting, singing, dancing, all of it. It was a lot of fun and I met my best friends there.”

Tom began telling stories about his time at school. Before he knew it, he lost himself and track of time. He looked back at you, quiet and still.

“Y/N?” You were finally asleep. “Goodnight, darling.” He whispered as he gently made his exit.

Because Tom worked the night shift, you never saw him when you woke in the morning. Instead, Tanya, a sweet nurse that felt like a big sister, or Linda, Nurse Ratched in the flesh, came in for morning vitals and meds.

You counted down the days until your release. Life in the hospital was pretty uneventful with the limit on visitors and limited activity. There’s only so many sitcoms one can take in a given timespan. The only thing that you really looked forward to each night was when Tom clocked in.

“Hi Y/N.”

“Hi Tom.” You would smile at each other.

“How are we feeling today?”

“Better. Ready to get out of here.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear you are feeling better and still ready to jailbreak.” He smiled while writing something down on your chart. “They should be bringing up your dinner tray soon and then I’ll bring by your evening meds after that.”

“Okay.”

“If you need me you know what to do.” He called to you before walking out the door.

You were disappointed when Shelley brought your evening meds by later. She was a nice enough nurse. She just wasn’t Tom.

You’d grown accustomed to mainly having him as your nurse during the evening shift. At first you weren’t sure if it was coincidence or on purpose, but after a few nights of staying up and talking, you grew closer to him. You saw less of the other nursing staff and more of Tom.

You tried not to build anything up in your head. You were sure everything he was doing was in his job description and a part of being a good nurse.

He would sneak you extra pudding cups from the cafeteria and bring you an extra heated blanket because you could never stay warm. If you needed a new IV, he held your hand to ease the anxiety. He kept you company and made you feel less alone in such a sterile and intimidating place. And when he noticed you had trouble sleeping he chose to sit with you to help you fall asleep. You couldn’t help the butterflies that built in your stomach.

It became a sort of routine. He checked on you during evening vitals, even if someone else was doing them, and you were always still awake. He would then come and sit with you and chat for a bit, telling you different stories until you eventually fell asleep.

Some nights when you were extra restless he would help you walk the halls.

“The doctors have to see you’re stable enough before you can be discharged. Plus, maybe it’ll tire you out.” He suggested.

He would help get your IV pole ready so you could walk with it. He helped you into your slippers and eased you out of bed after passing you your robe.

Walking the hall slowly, Tom knew he had to remain professional, yet he found a few excuses to graze his hand across your back to ‘steady you’ when you turned corners or he thought you were looking tired.

“It might take me a while to get back to my usual jogs in the park, huh?” You laughed in spite of yourself.

“You’ll get there. Baby steps.” He encouraged, as you turned around the Nurse’s Station. You missed the faces the other night shift nurses were giving you both, but Tom was sure to subtly flick them off. “So, do you like running?” He asked as you headed back towards your room.

Throughout your late nights together, he told you of his three younger brothers and his dog named Tessa. You spoke about what you would do when you were out of hospital. He talked about his friends and flatmates and the adventures they had. He told you many stories, but each morning when you woke up he was clocked out and the day shift nurses were there.

Tonight was your last night. You’re set to be discharged tomorrow and while you are ecstatic to go home, you’re going to miss one thing about this place.

“I bet you’re too excited to sleep tonight. I don’t know if my stories will even help.” Tom said as he sat down next to you.

You smiled up to him sweetly.

“What are you looking forward to the most once you get out of here?”

“Sleeping in my own bed.”

“Well that’s no surprise.” Tom laughed, a contagious sound making you giggle as well. “Isn’t there anything you’ll miss about this place?”

“Yeah.” He smiled “There’s one thing.”

“What’s that?” He asks.

“The pudding cups.”

“Ahh the pudding cups of course.” You giggled while fiddling with the IV line.

“They just don’t taste the same in the outside world.”

His smile grew wider as you giggled.

“No, but really. As much as I give this place grief and say I’m ready to get out of here - which I am,” You gave him a pointed look to which he held his hands up in mock surrender, fully believing you, “it hasn’t been too terribly awful I guess.”

“Oh, well, I’m glad we could make your stay not too terribly awful.. I guess.” He teased. “Do you have anything exciting to look forward to once you’re a free woman?”

“Nothing huge planned, really. The doctors did say to take it easy.”

“That’d be wise.”

“Yeah. I’ll just lay low for a while. My sister said she may try to come visit me though so that would be nice.”

“Oh that would be nice. She’s your older sister right?”

“Right. She moved away last year to be closer to her boyfriend.”

“Ah. Do you like him?”

“Sorry?”

“This boyfriend. Do you like him?”

“He’s alright, I suppose. He makes her happy.” Tom nodded along.

“And do you have a boyfriend that makes you happy?”

“N-No. No I don’t. Not at the moment.” You began fiddling with the IV cord again.

“No boyfriend or not a boyfriend that makes you happy?” He asked.

“Neither.”

“Well that’s a shame.” If the heart monitor was connected you would’ve been screwed. “I just mean someone needs to look after you once you get home. I hope this sister comes through for a visit. You’ve got to take it easy.”

“Oh I’ll be fine.”

“I’m sure you will be.” He smiled.

“How has your shift been tonight? Busy?” You asked, fighting back a yawn.

“A bit busier than usual. There was a slight emergency earlier which is why Shelley handed out meds tonight. Sorry I didn’t come around.”

“It’s alright. I know you have other patients.”

“Yeah, but none like you.” You were sure he said that to all of his patients. After all, you’ve heard similar lines ever since you went to the pediatrician as a child. But it still gave you butterflies.

“Are you getting sleepy?”

“A little. But it’s okay.” He gave you a pointed look but continued to talk anyway. “It’s the last night. One final request for storytime. Make it a good one.”

You thought for a moment before asking your question.

“Do you ever wish that life turned out differently? That you never had your accident and you could’ve followed your dreams to be a dancer?” You asked while turning on your side and getting more comfortable.

“Sometimes. At least, I used to. But I think I’ve accepted it now. And I really can’t see myself doing anything but this.” You nodded taking in his answer “I look at it this way. If it wasn’t for my injury then I never would’ve changed my career path and found my love for medicine. I never would have made so many of the friends I’ve made or the memories I’ve made. I never would have met you.” He finishes with a sweet smile.

“That’s a very positive way of looking at it.” You told him. “Be honest, are you a therapist during the day?” He laughed out loud.

“No. I’m not. I guess I’m a big believer in ‘everything happens for a reason’.” You nodded while covering a yawn.

“So I’ve been curious to ask you,” He began, “Do you usually have this much trouble sleeping? Because you can get help for that you know?” You smiled at him.

“What? I thought a night nurse talking to you was the cure?” Tom smirked and shook his head. “I’m kidding. No, I normally don’t. It’s just the stiff sheets and hospital sounds I think.”

“Darn hospital.” He rolled his eyes and joked. “So this time tomorrow you’ll be sound asleep in your own bed then?”

You knew it was meant to be a happy statement, but you were a little sad at the thought of not having any more late night chats with Tom.

“Yes. Thank God.” You forced a smile.

You felt another yawn coming and tried to hold it back. It was already past the usual time that you fell asleep.

Tom could tell you were exhausted so he launched into a story from nursing school, hoping to lull you to sleep.

You yawned your way through listening, trying to soak up every last moment with Tom. In the morning he wouldn’t be here. You’d leave and likely never see him again.

When he finished, your eyes were half open and he wondered how you were still awake. Or maybe why.

“Why are you fighting it? The point is to sleep. Give in.” He told you gently after another yawn.

You looked up at him, half asleep and rubbing your eyes, not finding the confidence to tell him the true reason you were trying to stay awake.

“I’m happy right now.”

He smiled down at you.

“I am too. But you need your sleep, darling.” You weren’t sure what to say and you didn’t have much energy left in you anyway. “How about this. I’ve probably been in here too long as it is. Let me go check in at the Nurse’s Station and then I’ll come back and check on you soon and see if you’re still awake okay?”

The thought that he was leaving gave you a sad feeling in your stomach. You tried to remind yourself that he was just your nurse. Nothing more.

“Okay.” You smiled at him, sleepily, while settling further into the bed.

He stood up and instead of walking towards the door he walked closer to you. He grabbed the thin, white hospital blanket and pulled it closer around your shoulders.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” He whispered before he walked to the door.

“Tom?” You called out just before he opened it. He turned around with an expectant look, “Thanks for everything.”

Even though the room was dim you could see his smile.

“You’re welcome, Y/N. Get some sleep.”

You don’t remember much after that. You don’t know if Tom came back to check on you. You just remember falling asleep with a smile on your face.

When you woke up the following morning it felt like any other morning in the hospital.

The hallways were much louder. Beeps, chatter, and phones were constant. The lights were brighter.

But you were quickly reminded that it wasn’t any other morning. You were going home today.

The door creaked open and Tanya, one of your regular daytime nurses, poked her head in.

“Oh good you’re up.” She made her way inside and over to the gloves. “How’d you sleep?”

“Pretty good. Thanks.” She gave you a smile, something hidden behind it.

“I’m sure.” She said quietly to herself. You gave her a questioning look. “Oh I just mean I’m sure you’re excited to get out of here.”

You nodded as she took your vitals one last time.

“Everything looks good. What do you say about getting this IV out?”

“I say that sounds amazing.”

She took it out and bandaged up your arm while informing you of how the morning would go.

“Dr. McCoy is making rounds now then he’ll be by soon to go over your discharge. You can get dressed whenever you’re ready. If you need help, buzz me. You’ll still have a breakfast tray come, but you don’t have to eat it.” She gave you a wink while taking off her gloves.

“Thanks Tanya.”

“Of course, sweetie. And in case I don’t see you before you go, you’ve been a wonderful patient. Take care of yourself.” You smiled at her as she left you to change into some leggings and a sweatshirt.

You were packing your remaining things into your bag when your doctor walked in.

“Y/N! How are we doing today?”

“We’re doing great because we’re going home.” You smiled while taking a seat to rest for a few minutes.

“I know you’re excited.” He laughed before explaining the conditions of your discharge. You had medicines to take, a follow up appointment, and strict instructions to rest for the next few weeks. After signing some forms he left you with a stack of papers. “Is someone coming to pick you up?”

“Yeah my neighbor should be here within an hour.”

“Sounds good. Don’t hesitate to call us or come back in if you have any trouble or questions.”

“Will do. Thanks.”

A few minutes after he left a nurse brought in your breakfast tray. There wasn’t much of a point for it but since your discharge wasn’t technically until 10:30 am you were still a patient during breakfast.

You took the pudding cup that you requested with every meal off the tray before sliding it away. Smiling to yourself, you tucked it away in your bag. All you had left to do was wait for 10:30.

Tanya came in to check on you again and told you to buzz the Nurse’s Station when you knew your ride was here. At 10:27 you had a text from your neighbor that they were out front in the pickup zone. So you hit the call button.

“Yes?” Linda, the scariest dayshift nurse, answered.

“Um hi. Tanya told me to buzz in when my ride was here so I could go down.”

“Okay we’ll be right in.”

Not even a minute later you heard your door open. Expecting to see Tanya or maybe even Linda you looked up.

An audible gasp left your lips when Tom stood in your doorway with a wheelchair.

“I hear someone needs a ride?” He smiled as he made his way closer to the bed.

“Tom. What are you still doing here?”

“I pulled a double.” You wanted to ask why, but decided against it. You were still in a little bit of shock from seeing him again. “If you’d rather I can go get Linda to walk you down?” He pointed back towards your door.

“No! No.. I’m just surprised s’all.”

“Well come on. I thought you’d be running out of this place once the clock hit 10:30.” Glancing up you saw it was now 10:34. Your neighbor is probably tired of waiting already.

You grabbed your discharge papers and reached for your bag when you heard, “I got it.” Smiling at him, you sat down in the wheelchair. Tom placed the bag around his shoulder and kicked the brakes off the chair. “Ready?” You nodded up at him.

He rolled you out of the room that felt so small for a final time. You passed the Nurse’s Station and waved bye to the staff. He turned by the elevators and when you looked up at him in question, he read your mind. Looked down at you he said, “We’re taking the staff elevators.”

When you made it there he hit the button, turning you around and backing you in once the doors opened. He hit the button for the Lobby and leaned up against the wall of the elevator, briefly glancing at you, as you rode down together.

“Well you made it. You’re a free woman.” He smiled shyly.

“Yippee.” He met your eyes for a moment before looking back to the floor. The dynamics felt different. It wasn’t like your late night talks together.

“Listen, Y/N.” Tom began as he stood up from the wall and faced you. He was about to continue when the elevator ding cut him off, signaling you had reached your destination.

Maybe that was what was different. You had reached your destination.

You had a fun time talking with Tom and entertaining each other when you were both up late at night. He was fun to get to know and you enjoyed having someone care for you. He was easy to banter with and certainly easy on the eyes. But your time at the hospital was up. You knew it would be eventually. You wanted it to be.

Tom was a nurse. He was just doing his job. He was helping take care of you. He was being nice. He was trying to make your stay more comfortable. There was nothing to read into.

Your time being his patient was up and your time with him was up.

You tried to remain realistic, but the sadness still crept up as he rolled you closer to the door.

Once outside, you saw your neighbor exit the car and wave you over. Tom steered in the direction and slowed before rolling to a stop and hitting the brake locks on the wheels.

“Hi, I’m Taylor.”

“Tom.” They shook hands as Tom passed off your bag for Taylor to put in the backseat.

“I’m sorry for the circumstances, but it really has been a pleasure having you as a patient and getting to know you, Y/N.” Tom admitted as he walked around to face you. He grabbed the papers from your lap. “Take care of yourself, okay?” You had shared many smiles with Tom, but this one felt sadder.

“I will. Thank you for everything, Tom. I mean it.” You reached up and squeezed his hand. He gave you a light squeeze back while smiling down at you. Taylor returned from the backseat of the car and Tom turned to them.

“These are her important papers about follow up appointments, medications, what to do at home, all of that so please make sure she doesn’t lose any of them.” He emphasized the point.

“Got it. Thanks.” Taylor held onto the stack while Tom turned back to you.

“If I can’t handle a few papers on my own, then maybe I shouldn’t be going home yet, Tom.” You laughed.

“I know, I just wanted to make sure they made it home with you.” He walked closer. “You ready to get in?”

“Yeah.” You nodded. He helped you up, supporting you just as a precaution. Once seated, you took a moment to catch your breath as you pulled the seatbelt down. He met your hand, taking it from you to buckle you in.

“You good?”

You nodded with a smile, “Just a little tired. No biggie.”

He looked you over before returning your smile, though his didn’t quite reach his eyes, “If you need us, call us. Otherwise go home and rest.”

This was it. This was goodbye.

“Thanks, Tom.”

“Goodbye, Y/N.”

He shut the door. He walked back to the wheelchair, released the brake locks and headed inside. He looked back only when your car was driving away.

“Here’s those papers that are so important.” Taylor handed you the stack after they got in.

“Thanks.”

“So how are you feeling?”

“Better. Thanks.” You felt them looking at you as they joined traffic.

“You sure? You sound like you feel awful.”

You try to remind yourself to forget the sweet and attractive nurse and start moving forward.

“Yeah. Yeah I’m okay.” You decide to distract yourself by reading through your discharge paperwork, when something caught your eye. On top was a sticky note with the hospital’s letterhead. You were sure it wasn’t there before. Looking closer it read,

Y/N,

In case you need someone to talk to when you can’t sleep.

555-5555

P. S. I have a connection to some pretty good pudding cups too.

Tom

The smile that grew on your face was undeniable. All the feelings you suppressed came flooding in. He wasn’t just being nice. He actually liked you.

One thing you knew for sure was that even though you would be in your own bed tonight, you still would be up, talking to a very special nurse.

Lmk if you want to be on my tag list

[somewhatgreatexpectations]

To Die For (Wanda Maximoff/ Reader)

Hello! It is with great joy and a little bit of sadness that I present you all with the final part of “Love Goes”. This part in particular is inspired by Sam Smith’s “To Die For”. Pieces from Endgame are used but very little. 

Summary: The aftermath of Endgame, how will Wanda navigate and what will happen to Y/n. 

“I long for you, just a touch of your hand. You don't leave my mind. Lonely days I'm feeling like a fool for dreaming… Sunshine living on a perfect day while my world's crashing down.”

Hope. That was all Wanda had left. She knew that she couldn’t let it waver for even a moment. Allowing the hope within her to waver would be the same as accepting defeat. Accepting that you weren’t coming back. That was something she would never allow herself to believe. 

Like you told her, you and her were a happy ending. It’s the only ending she could ever envision for herself. The only life she wanted. The only life she’d accept. You and her. Together. Happily.

It had only been a week since the fateful battle and you had been transferred to a S.W.O.R.D. facility since. What worried Wanda most was that you still hadn’t woken up and hadn’t shown much progression since arriving. 

She could still feel you though. 

Wanda would allow herself glimpses into your mind and could see the vibrancy that still existed within. Your heart was still beating, and your mind was still your own. Even if you weren’t awake, you were still you.

The thought brought comfort to Wanda despite the circumstances. It kept hope alive in her heart.

It was only a matter of time until you were awake and in her arms again. At least that’s what she kept telling herself. 

The situation could have been worse though and she knew that. Shortly after you were transferred to the facility she learned the full details of how exactly Thanos was defeated. How Tony and Natasha had given their lives in exchange for the outcome. As much as the news saddened her, she couldn’t help but feel a selfish sense of relief that you hadn’t been dealt the same fate. 

Her life – her heart - felt as though it was hanging in the balance. You were all she had. All she wanted. If she lost you she knew there would be no recovery for her. She’d drown. Sink to the bottom with no chance of resurfacing if you weren’t there to pull her back up. 

The warmth of your hand in her own anchored her. It always did, but not as much as being in your arms, or hearing your voice. “I’m drowning.” She whispered against your hand. “I’m drowning, Y/n. I need to hear your voice, see you open your eyes, and have you hold me and tell me everything is going to be okay. I’m drowning, and you can’t save me until you wake up.” Her lips trembled slightly against your hand as a single tear fell down her cheek.

The days and nights had blurred together for her. Both of which were spent unwaveringly at your side. The only disruptions often came in the form of varying people in the facility checking your vitals or injecting new medications into your IV that they informed her should wake you up soon. 

Besides the worry and fear she constantly felt, there was a sense of bitterness that the only one who had come to see you or her during your time in the facility was Fury. That was only when you were still at S.H.I.E.L.D’s location. It was upsetting to her that Steve had yet to visit you considering the history you two shared and how close you two had always been. Considering how you had been willing to risk your life for him on multiple occasions. 

Today was Tony’s funeral and she was reluctantly leaving your side to pay her respects for a short while. Also, to give Rogers a piece of her mind.

When the funeral concluded she wandered over to the lake to collect her thoughts and emotions. Taking in the beautiful day around her, a stark contrast to how she felt internally. The perfect day felt wrong when it still felt like her world was crashing down within her. 

As she was staring out the lake, preparing herself for what she wanted to tell Steve, Clint walked up to her. “Hey, kid.” 

Wanda kept a neutral face and merely nodded at him. “Hello.”

There was hesitation in the way Clint stopped at her side. “You have every right to not want to talk to me right now.” He began seriously, his head ducked shamefully. “I wanted to go visit Y/n… Check on you. I did. I just-… It’s been hard accepting that Nat’s gone, you know? It’s not an excuse for not being there. It’s just where my head was. I’m sorry, Wanda.” 

As much as Wanda wanted to ignore him, she knew she couldn’t. “I understand.” She replied softly, her gaze still on the lake before her. 

“I wish there was a way that I could let her know that we won. That we did it.” Clint admitted quietly to her.

Wanda shifted her gaze to him. “She knows.” There was a small pause. “They both do.” Despite not being awake, she liked to believe that you knew.

Clint wrapped a comforting arm around her and she leaned into the embrace. 

“Wanda.” A somber voice caught her attention as she turned to find Steve standing there with his hands folded behind his back. “A word?”

Clearly not wanting to be caught in the crossfire, Clint stepped back. “I think that’s my cue to go.” He pressed a kiss to the top of Wanda’s head. “I’ll do better, okay? Let me know if you need anything. I’ll be by to visit Y/n soon.” Wanda nodded slightly at his words as he walked away. 

When Clint was out of the vicinity, Steve stepped into his place. Wanda’s jaw clenched. She was more upset at him than anyone. She knew if roles were reversed you would have been uncompromisingly by his side.

“What do you want?” She asked, her tone cold.

Steve’s face remained neutral despite her tone. “How is she?”

A bitter laugh escaped her lips at his question. “How is she?” she shook her head in disbelief. “You have a lot of nerve asking that when you’ve had a whole week to go see for yourself.”

A heavy sigh escaped his lips. “Look, Wanda, I understand you’re upset with me but I-“

Wanda rounded on him, her eyes livid. “Upset? I am far passed upset, Rogers. I’m furious. Y/n needed you and you abandon her. She would have done anything for you! She idolized you!”

Each of Wanda’s words impacted Steve, she could see that, but she didn’t stop. He took it. “She thought you were her family and you couldn’t even be bothered to go see for yourself if she’s okay! You don’t even care-“

“Enough! That’s not true!” Steve roared. The accusation that he didn’t care seemingly being the final straw. Wanda recoiled in surprise. “I feel guilty, okay? I feel like the only reason that she’s in there in the first place is because of me. I couldn’t face her. I didn’t deserve to.” His volume didn’t lower as the emotions he was holding in finally boiled over. 

“You know she wouldn’t have blamed you.” Wanda eventually replied, her tone still clipped.

Steve rubbed a hand down his face. “I know, but I do. I blame myself. She was trying to protect me, and she only felt like she had to protect me because I couldn’t stop him the first time. She got hurt because I couldn’t get to her fast enough. She’s my family too.” 

As much as she wanted to be angry with him, she found it much more difficult when she learned of the guilt that seemed to be weighing heavily on him. “You know Y/n would have done that either way.” She confessed quietly. “She would have tried to stop him regardless of who she was defending. That’s who she is.”

A weak nod was his only response. Wanda wasn’t sure if he believed her. “How has she been?” Steve repeated, hoping for a genuine answer this time.

“She still hasn’t woken up.” Wanda began unsteadily. “They keep injecting her with new serums everyday saying that each one will wake her up, but it never does.”

Steve closed his eyes at the information, his expression distressed for just a moment until he schooled his features and put on a brave face for Wanda. “She’s going to wake up. I know she will.” 

Hearing the words she had been telling herself from someone else brought Wanda a small sense of comfort. “I know she will too.” She turned to him. “I’m going to get back to her now, she needs me. Go see her.” 

“I will.” He nodded firmly, his words definitive. “I have to return the stones in an hour and try and see if I can undo something. As soon as I do that I’ll be immovably by her side. I’ll stay with you until she wakes up. You have my word. She has my word.” There was purpose in his voice. 

Wanda quirked her lips up slightly at him and nodded without a word. She knew he meant what he said. She walked off to her car to begin the drive back to S.W.O.R.D’s medical branch of the facility. ___________________ Her heart dropped when she entered your room, only to be met with an empty bed. On numb legs, she ran out and stopped the first worker she saw. “Y/n Y/ln. Where is she? She was here just an hour ago.” 

The employee looked around nervously. “She’s been moved. I believe it would be in your best interest to speak to the director.”

Wanda’s brow furrowed in confusion. “The director? Why?”

“His office is located on the second floor, third door on the left.” The employee informed her meekly before scurrying away. 

Practically running, Wanda reached the office in minutes, throwing the door open. “Ms. Maximoff.” The man who she presumed to be the director greeted her, an unnerving smile on his face.

“Where is she?” Wanda demanded, not caring about anything other than being reunited with you. “Is-is she okay?” Anxiety began to build within her and press against her chest making it harder for her to breath. Her nails dug into her palms.

The man gestured for her to sit in an empty chair, she ignored the request. “My name is Tyler Hayward. I am the director of S.W.O.R.D.”

Wanda merely stared blankly back at him, her jaw clenched tightly. “Where. Is. Y/n?” She enunciated sharply, her patience fading. 

The unnerving smile never faltered on Hayward’s face. “That is the unfortunate part, Ms. Maximoff. You see, while you were gone Ms. Y/ln suffered from some brain hemorrhaging. We were able to stop it, but it seems her brain has suffered an extensive amount of damage. We ran some tests and it appears she has lost all cognitive function. She is just a shell now. She only has another day or two at best. I’m sorry.”

Wanda’s world stopped at his words. She immediately shook her head. “That’s not true.” She said shakily as tears began streaming down her cheeks, the weight on her chest getting heavier, forcing her under. She couldn’t breathe. “That’s not true. Let me see her.” 

Hayward gestured forward to the large window in his office. “They’re running some tests on her now, but so far the data has remained conclusive. There is no longer brain function.” Numbly Wanda walked up to the large window and glanced down, feeling the life drain from her at the sight of you. Pale and on what looked like an experimentation table, surrounded by several S.W.O.R.D. scientists.  “I’m afraid it’s time to start talking about letting her go.”

Wanda spun around to face him angrily. “Let her go?” she cried, her voice cracking. “She’s all I have.”

Hayward held his hands up slightly. “It’s only a matter of days before she’s unable to breathe on her own and her heart stops being.”

Empty. That’s what she felt at his words. She wanted to scream. Her powers reacted to the emotion she was feeling before her mind did as the glass she was leaning on shattered. Without hesitation she floated down to where you were. Her heart hammering in her chest the closer she got. 

The world around her went dark and the only sight she was able to take in was the way your chest weakly rose and fell with each breath. With shaking hands, she raised them to your temple as feeble wisps of red floated from her fingertips and disappeared into your mind. 

All she saw was darkness. 

“I can’t feel you.” She whispered brokenly, the pain in her chest overcoming her. The sensation composing her entire being as everything within her collapsed. She was alone, and she knew she wouldn’t recover. Then everything went dark around her. ________________________________

“Darling, have you seen my notebook? I’m running late for my meeting with my editor and I can’t seem to find it anywhere.” You questioned hastily as you rushed into the kitchen and skidded to a halt in the entry way. Looking around the area with a frazzled expression on your face.

Wanda looked over from her place by the stove and waved her hand, the notebook floating from under your arm to directly in front of your face. “You mean this one, dear?” She asked with an amused smile. 

Sheepishly you plucked the notebook out of the air as you made your way over to her. “What would I do without you?” You leaned forward so your lips rested gently against her own.

“Mmm,” Wanda mumbled with a smile as she spoke against your lips. Her arms resting comfortably over your shoulders. “I believe your mind would fail you, sweetheart.”

Your hands fell to her waist as you pulled her closer. “That’s for certain.” You replied easily with a loving smile. “Have I told you how beautiful you look today?”

A small blush spread over her cheeks. “You have not but thank you. You look beautiful as well, darling. I’m beginning to get jealous that your editor gets to spend the day in your presence. Speaking of…” she trailed off and glanced pointedly at the clock.

“My meeting!” Your eyes widened as you pressed one last loving kiss to her lips. “I’ll be going now. I love you, darling. I’ll be home soon!” You shouted as you began running out. 

Wanda shook her head at you, the smile on her face never faltering. “I love you, too, dear!” She called after you, pretending to catch the kiss you blew to her as you rushed out the door. She sighed happily and leaned against the wall of the kitchen. 

The end.

 . . . . . .

“Glad you were able to make it, Rogers.” Fury said seriously as he shook Steve’s hand. “And Ms. Romanoff. Welcome back.” He shook her hand as well. 

Steve nodded easily in response. “Of course. You know that I’d be here in a heartbeat for Y/n. Wanda as well.” Both followed Fury into a large make-shift tent located in the woods. 

“What exactly are we dealing with?” Natasha asked, confusion lacing her words.

For a moment Fury seemed to ponder her question. “We’re not entirely sure.”

“Does Wanda even know that she saved Y/n? That she was never gone?” Steve questioned seriously, his arms crossed as he stared at the screen before him. 

Fury shook his head. “No. It seems Hayward convinced Wanda that Y/n was gone, no brain function. What Wanda didn’t know was he had gone rogue. Every serum they injected in Y/n kept her in her comatose state rather than attempt to wake her up like they were telling Wanda. I’ve looked at the files that my inside contacts gave me, and it seems Y/n should have been up in the first day or two to recover from minor brain swelling.”

“Why are they doing this though?” Natasha questioned as she looked over the chart. Steve’s jaw was clenched as he listened to each detail.

Taking the chart from Natasha, Fury turned the pages until he found what he was looking for and handed it back to Natasha. “Right there. It seems that Y/n carries a rare mutant gene that they could extract and essentially build an army with. They believed that if they removed Wanda from the picture they could continue the experiments and eventually wipe Y/n’s memory to use her as a weapon. Turn her into a super solider… but much worse because of her powers.” There was an edge to his tone. “They are very interested in her ability to manipulate earth and metal. They had considered Wanda briefly as well, but the perfect opportunity presented itself with Y/n. That’s why they insisted on her transfer to their facility.” 

“How do we get them back before Hayward gets to them?” Steve questioned quietly, a dangerous tone to his voice.

Instead of answering Fury gestured to the woman who had been sitting and listening to the conversation. “Wanda isn’t letting anyone with ties to your past in. Fury already tried. She won’t let you or Natasha in.” They both stared at her. “I didn’t introduce myself. Sorry, my name is Darcy Lewis. Astrophysics. Big fan.” The bespectacled woman rambled. 

Natasha smirked, an amused glint in her eye. “Okay, Darcy Lewis, what’s our next step?”

“We’ll do whatever it takes.” Steve finished powerfully as they all watched you and Wanda share a sweet kiss before the credits began to roll on the screen before them.

Well, that’s all folks! 13 parts completed! It’s been a journey writing this and it is by far the longest thing I’ve ever written. This story has become my baby and it always brings me so much joy to read your comments and seeing others enjoy it. I had a plan for this chapter since the moment I began writing this story but it was so hard when it came down to writing because of the most recent episode of Wandavision, so I tweaked it a little. Was it a sadder or happier ending? You may never know. Thank you all so much for taking this journey with me. I hope you enjoyed. 

As always, thoughts and comments always welcome. :)

p.s. I brought back Steve and Nat but I couldn’t figure out how to make Tony surviving make sense or fit the story, sorry. Still love Tony. 

[bas1cb01ch]

Maybe this is a good read for you like it was for me. The words say a lot that I can’t and but feel…..

1. I’m sorry about many many things I did & so much I didn’t do.

2.I’m grateful to have been loved by you once. I wasn’t ready for u cos I didn’t feel worthy of being loved so much.

3. I’m attracted to the man that you are not only your strength physically but your will to be the man that others doubted and despite all circumstances U r a great father, brother, son and a good man.

4.I’m like a school girl with butterflies whenever I hear from you. Even if we fight there is not anyone else that I’d rather talk too or grow with.

5.I’m still blown away that you are the only one in the world who has ever been able to surprise me. I wish I listened more to what you needed so I could surprise you by being someone that you could count on.

6.Im never going to forget the imperfections that made being your woman a perfect gift. I wish I could have given you more so you see the value in my flaws which outweighs my mistakes from the past.

7.I’ve never experienced so much passion with someone else. U made me feel wanted and desired. I felt sexy and comfortable in my skin but mostly I felt safe enough to follow your lead and trusted you to explore areas I’ve never been, do things I’ve never done and side of myself I never felt

8.I’m afraid I will never want to pleasure or trust to be as satisfied intimately unless it’s u

9.I’ve never been humbled enough for my pride to want to change into being a better woman until I meet you. U inspired me to a better woman and to fear God and the Bible’s truth.

10.I miss when i don’t hear about your day. And I’m brought to tears when u don’t respond back knowing you got my message.

11.I’ve never had so much given and not been able to give them back anything in return.

12. I answer everything you ask not being defensive or honor you by being as open with you as possible . I’ve tried my best even if it’s too late.

13.Im embarrassed that the 1 person who does know the “real me” would rather be alone or must have a “good reason” to spend time with me.

14. I agree Setting boundaries in your life is beneficial for your health mind and body. I wish you for everyone else only allowing you to know the whole real me

15. I regret what I did said in anger and immaturity when I did not say anything.

16. Being weak and needy when I meant to show that trust u enough to be venerable. I needed help and believed u will teach me everything you know and honor me with the truthful reality of life situations

17. Ive let my guard down exposing myself in a way that was confusing, irritating, mean at times and it was unfair to you. I’m sorry I didn’t express how i really felt and respond to you with the respect & love I have to you wish u also deserved. I honestly never had bad intentions even though many problems were miss understandings I should’ve done better at being proactive instead of reactive.

18. I should have set boundaries that were righteous not selfish and disciplined enough to keep them because now strangers u r alone and confides in strangers instead of being with family and people who love u

I didn’t want to lose your respect but continuing to be mistreated and trying to be understanding when I was not being understood brought nothing of any value into your life enough of love was there

We both have been working on being better and I’m proud of you especially since you have been doing it on your own.

I’m so proud of you with what you’ve already accomplished in life and excited for your future and the you that you to will be proud of.

I’m blessed every day with your presence even if it’s only though my prayers.

Im forever in your debt and will stand up for u even if u r wrong. We could never speak again but know u have my loyalty & can call me anytime from anywhere for anything. Not only because that’s how I was raised but I know that’s how I was created.

God doesn’t make mistakes. I know this only because you shared your faith with me.

We are connected for life even if we don’t know why or understand why we are.

I only know that everything was worth it for me meant pray for you always

I didn’t want to lose your respect I lost t bring your life enough value in return.

We both have been working on being better and I’m proud of you especially since you have been doing it on your own.

I’m so proud of you with what you’ve already accomplished in life and excited for your future and the you that you to will be proud of.

I’m blessed every day with your presence even if it’s only though my prayers. I want to be with you but I don’t want to beg want you to want me. Love me and respect me.

Im forever in your debt and will stand up for u even if u r wrong. We could never speak again but know u have my loyalty & can call me anytime from anywhere for anything. Not only because that’s how I was raised but I know that’s how I was created.

God doesn’t make mistakes. I know this only because you shared your faith with me. We are connected for life even if we don’t know why or understand why we are.

I only know that everything was worth it for me even though I am alone in the end and hurt beyond belief your actions are inexcusable but I forgive you and I also want to forgive myself.

I will always love you and who knows maybe when you read this u too will be at a place of maturity to forgive yourself and me. I hope for the day we can put this pain away and bring everything we learned to a place where God can rebuild us as individuals and honest LT us as a couple.

I will pray for you always and want you to release everything that doesn’t give you peace and happiness even if that means letting go of me. We all deserve love and if I can’t love u correctly I want you to find someone who does and that the rest of your life is 100x better than the it’s been

[machine-gun-casie]

tavern music

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

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

wc: 1.7k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Except for one thing.

You had a boyfriend.

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

Yeah, Corpse definitely had feelings for you. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey, where are you right now?”

“I’m home, why?”

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

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

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

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

“He was with Bob.” 

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

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

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

You couldn’t bring yourself to say a word.

“I’m sorry, y/n.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah.”

“And Bob’s been your friend since-”

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

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

“When I came home.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t want water.”

“Then what do you want?”

“You.” You whispered. “Please stay.” 

Fuck. How could he say no to that?

So he stayed.

[kookingtae]

falling into you (pt. 8) PREVIEW

pt 1 | pt 2 | pt 3 | pt 4 | pt 5 | pt 6 | pt 7

→scenario: Jungkook’s innocence is like a breath of fresh air in your wild life, and though you know you’re toxic for him, you just can’t seem to stay away.

→genre: college au, slow burn, mutual pining, shy/nerd jk + bad girl oc (mature themes)

→a/n: so i’m not finished with pt 8 yet, since it’s such a climactic chapter it’s taking a bit longer than i anticipated unfortunately BUT i dont want u guys to think ive forgotten about it!!! i know u all are waiting so patiently, and i cannot thank you enough from the bottom of my heart <3 i hope this preview keeps you excited for what’s to come!

Jungkook could never face Y/N again.

God, how could he, knowing that he’d not only finished in five minutes like a pubescent teenager, but also in his pants while she was on top of him?

Embarrassment didn’t even begin to describe the mortification he felt. He’d never wanted the earth to swallow him whole as much as he did in that moment. Sure, he was aware of his slight social anxiety, the way he was constantly looking to bolt from uncomfortable situations—but this was different entirely. This was new territory for him; he’d never done anything remotely sexual with someone else, period, much less with the girl who hung the stars, moon, and sun in his eyes. What was he supposed to do? There was nowhere to escape to in his own bedroom, no running away from his problems that made him uncomfortable. No, he had to stand there with his head down and his crotch dripping wet while he practically begged her to leave. He had never been so ashamed of himself. He had never felt so pathetic.

But then Y/N surprised him like she never failed to do: she’d given him reassurance, another kiss even, while telling him that she actually enjoyed the experience—went so far as to say it was the best in her life. Now he knew she was lying to spare his feelings. Of all the men Y/N had been with, there was no way a virgin cumming untouched in his pants was the best of them. She was cruel to make him believe otherwise, to give him false hope.

He wouldn’t allow himself to think any differently. He couldn’t allow himself to get hurt.

Which was why he made it his mission to avoid her at all costs—something he’d gotten very good at over the past few months, and the past few weeks, specifically.

But in the same way he’d learned from the patterns of her daily routine and used them as a means to remain hidden, she’d also learned his and utilized them to her advantage as well. It was the only explanation as to how he was turning a corner inside the art building (about to take the rear exit, since she usually waited for him out front) and suddenly she was standing right in front of him.

He instantly skidded to a halt, heart rate shooting to astronomical levels and eyes widening on their own accord. “Y-Y/N,” he stuttered out involuntarily, the sight of her causing every single detail of their time spent together to come rushing back to him like a tidal wave ready to wipe him out.

As if he needed another excuse to think about the moment they shared that had changed him forever, about the way her moans sounded in his ear and her body felt on his lap and the way she touched his cheek, his neck, the way her lips felt on his skin, god help him—

Already he could feel the beginnings of a blush start to rise to his suddenly hot cheeks, and he cleared his throat and shifted his weight from one foot to the other to keep from springing yet another boner in front of her.

He slid his books in front of his waist, just in case.

While she usually approached him with the natural ease of self-confidence and charm, today she seemed worried, unsure. She chewed at her lower lip—something he didn’t think she really ever did, as he would certainly remember the way it stirred within him—and looked up at him beneath delicate lashes that framed her eyes.

He didn’t have it in him to keep from outright staring at her beauty.

“I… I missed you,” she finally murmured, and he felt the breath physically whoosh from his lungs to join his butterfly-filled stomach all the way at the floor.

It had been a few days since he’d last seen her, since she’d been in his room that night where they opened up about their past and confessed how they truly felt about one another and shared the most life-altering moment he’d ever experienced. He missed her too, god he missed her. He missed everything about her the moment she left his side—would picture her face in his mind as soon as she left his field of vision. But for some reason unknown to him, she was too kind to him, spared his feelings despite knowing what little experience he had. There was no way he’d be able to satisfy a girl—mentally, physically, emotionally—who could have anyone she wanted. Perhaps she pitied him. Either way, if she wouldn’t put a stop to it, then he would.

Or so he’d try, but alas, nothing ever went according to his plans where Y/N was concerned. And here she was, three simple words mumbled into existence and he couldn’t even remember his own name, much less why he’d been trying to fight this.

She seemed to expect he would say nothing—either that or she’d grown used to his silence—because before he had enough sense in him to even think about responding, she was speaking again. “How have you been?”

The question was asked with deliberate, genuine curiosity and concern; she really wanted to know if he was okay, how he was handling things after what had transpired between them. And no matter how hard Jungkook tried to fight this, fight her, fight himself, he was only human.

And so he stopped fighting.

“I– I missed you too,” he breathed out, and it was like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders and relocated to his gut. He tensed at his confession, mentally berated himself for his words even though she’d been the one to say them first. He felt like he couldn’t breathe, what with the way his throat locked up.

Though the second he witnessed the smile that sprang to her tantalizing lips, he felt as light as a feather floating in the breeze.

“You did?” Her eyes lit up, sparkled under the fluorescent hallway lights that still managed to capture all of her beauty despite the unflattering lighting. He didn’t think it was possible for any scenery, not even that of a dull and stuffy university building, to make her appear any less breathtaking than she always was.

“I was so worried after I left last week,” she continued without prompt. The mention of his premature finish had him stiffening in dread, though she didn’t let enough silence fester between her words for the anxiety to claw its way up his throat. “I didn’t want you to beat yourself up. I’ve noticed you tend to be too hard on yourself sometimes.” She glanced up at him with the hint of a sheepish grin dancing on her lips.

Her expression said it all: that’s an understatement.

And this shocked him to his core, because she was absolutely right.

Just how well had she gotten to know him in their time spent together over the last few months? And how? And why?

The last question would always boggle him until the end of time; he would never understand why she was interested in him. Why was he the one she had feelings for, when she claimed she never had feelings for anybody? Though he supposed he could ask himself the same thing: why did he feel things for Y/N that he had never felt for anyone else in his life? And the answer was quite simple, really: because it was her.

He didn’t know what about himself was so special to make him stand out in her mind, and as a result he still couldn’t help but be skeptical, even after her confession. But it wasn’t like he had any choice in the matter on what to do with that skepticism—not when his heart kept leading him back to her.

At some point after her accurate description of the inner turmoil that’s been plaguing his mind, his mouth had fallen open slightly. He couldn’t hide the surprise from his face even if he tried; he was speechless.

Y/N gazed up at him, not seeming in any hurry to rush the conversation along, and for that he was grateful. He’d never met somebody so patient and understanding before—just another reason to make Jungkook’s heart flutter with endearment. And it was no secret to himself anymore that he yearned to be in Y/N’s presence for as long as possible whether he was aware of it or not.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed, you know,” she continued as if she could read his mind, and that was when he realized the way his eyes avoided hers and the fact that his skin was the color of tomatoes must’ve been dead giveaways. “I meant it when I said that was the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced.”

Jungkook balked, practically choking on his spit at her forward, shameless words. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to the way she spoke her mind so openly without any fear holding her back. She’d gone through so much in her childhood, in her life—Jungkook not even knowing the half of it, he’s sure—and yet she was still so strong and brave and everything he wasn’t. He couldn’t help but admire the person she was today, despite all the prejudice and judgment he’d held for her when they first met.

He realized now that he was too quick to judge her, to write her off based on rumors and first impressions. He realized now that he was too quick to do that to a lot of people. Just how long had he closed himself off from others based on his skewed, morally righteous perspective? His whole life, if he had to say.

The epiphany that she was physically prying open his third eye with a crowbar, that he was now self aware and changing for the better for her—for himself—hit him all at once.

It was the most frightening sensation of his life, the introvert in him wanting to crawl back into his shell where it was safe and comfortable and dull. But deep down he knew it was also for the best.

“W-why?” He heard himself asking before he knew what he was doing. “Why do you keep saying that?”

He had to know why she insisted on standing by her statement that his mishap was not only hot, but the hottest ever. Why did she insist on lying to him, on giving him false hope? She spoke her mind in every other situation, or at least that’s what he assumed; why did she insist on sparing his feelings in this incident? Was he really that pathetic? Did she pity him that much?

She simply blinked at him once, twice, before: “Because I really like you, Jungkook.”

As if in slow motion, you could visibly see his eyes expand to the size of saucers at your words.

You would’ve found the sight comical had the situation been any different. But the way he continued to disbelieve that you could have feelings for him, that you could be attracted to everything about him despite who he was, despite his inexperience—it made your heart break in your chest. You now knew from where this inferiority complex stemmed—he’d told you himself about his family situation—and if anything, it made you want to rebuild his confidence that much more. He needed to see himself the way you saw him.

But you also didn’t want to overwhelm him, either. And you were more than willing to walk that fine line with Jungkook no matter how long it took.

“So are we on for a study sesh tonight?” You continued nonchalantly, wanting to return things to normalcy for him as much as possible before he ran away mid-conversation as he’d done so many times before. You wanted to ease his self-doubt so he’d stop avoiding you—like he’d been doing the past few days—as much as possible.

Jungkook blinked as if trying to adjust from the whiplash of your subject-change. “U–uh… if you want?”

“Of course I want to,” you replied without missing a beat, not caring how desperate you seemed so long as he didn’t question where you stood. You took a step forward, unable to help the intangible, magnetic draw you felt to him as you gazed up at him beneath your lashes. “That is… if you want to.”

You watched in agony as a gulp slowly raked its way down his throat.

“I–” his voice was hoarse before he cleared his throat. “I uh, can’t tonight. I have to study for math.”

You weren’t even sure how one studied for math, but you weren’t about to question the expert. “That’s fine! We could… do it tomorrow?”

Jungkook chewed at his bottom lip, an action he always did when he was internally struggling with something before he finally nodded his head yes in a slow, hesitant manner. “N–not in my room though,” he added as an afterthought, and when your gaze snapped to his he had a pleading expression in his eyes.

A mix of emotions rolled through you. On one hand, you were horrified at the possibility that he thought the only reason you wanted to study again was so that you could get in his pants. Which—okay, you’re not going to lie, you would love to have a repeat of last week—but that definitely wasn’t why you wanted to see him. He meant more to you than just a means to get off, which was what you’d thought of flings in the past. You didn’t want him to be just a fling, though.

You didn’t want to think of the meaning behind that fact right now, either.

But on another hand, you understood where Jungkook was coming from. Maybe it was because you’d studied him enough over the past few months to learn some of his behavior (for once you finally saw the appeal of studying), so you knew that level of intimacy was probably extremely overwhelming for Jungkook and he needed a moment to step back. Hell, it was even overwhelming for you, and that was saying something. Never had your senses, your heart, your body, your soul been attacked like that with such an abundance of emotional pleasure, and you hoped with all your might that Jungkook was feeling the same—that that was the reason he needed a breather from being alone with you, and not the fact that he just didn’t want to be intimate with you.

Unless…

Oh god, had you misread the situation entirely? Had Jungkook hated everything about that night?

Suddenly you were feeling sick to your stomach. The thought of you misunderstanding his confession—or worse, him changing his mind completely—made you want to escape to a dark and desolate stairwell and cry in the hidden nooks of the windowsill again; the irony that not only would you be pulling a Jungkook by escaping mid-conversation, but that the stairwell was also the place the two of you had your first real conversation, wasn’t lost on you.

“M–my roommate is staying in, studying for finals.” The sound of Jungkook’s voice was like a breath of fresh air whooshing into your lungs after almost drowning underwater. You blinked out of your inner turmoil, focusing on him. “So he’ll be there, i–in my room, this whole week.”

And suddenly your heart was warming with relief, hope, appreciation, like flowers blooming in the spring after a torrential downpour. Just when you thought you had him figured out, this enigma of a boy continued to surprise you. It was usually easy for you to hide your emotions—you’d been doing so for years, always wore a mask around others so that they couldn’t see the real you—and yet somehow, Jungkook must’ve sensed them anyway. He sensed the doubt, the pain, the fear that you vowed never to cage you crawling up your throat and threatening to consume you whole, and he eased it. He didn’t want you to misunderstand him. He wanted to reassure you.

If anything, that was just a testament to how Jungkook had broken down your walls—how much you had let him in, how well he was able to read the emotions you wanted to keep hidden. Your mask had begun to break, the real you showing through the cracks, and Jungkook was still standing here. He hadn’t run away.

You fought the urge to grab him and slam your lips onto his.

“Not in your room, then,” is all you managed to breathe out beneath a fluttering smile.

[kudzushadow]

There for You | Part 1 of 3 | A Harlivy Fanfiction

Summary: After Harley finds Ivy in tears on the floor of the bathroom, realization dawns on her about how hard the past year had been on Ivy, from literally dying (1x12) to mind control. (2x12) They have a heartfelt conversation about the events leading up to the moment, and learn that sometimes it's ok to confide in the ones you care for. (Based on the scene from Eat Bang! Kill Tour: Issue #1)

Hurt/Comfort | TW: Past trauma mentions, slight hints of past abuse. | Spoilers for Harley Quinn: The Animated Series & Eat Bang! Kill Tour: Issue #1

See bottom for extra notes!

-

"...Ive?" Harley's eyes widened as she rounded a corner and was greeted with a sight that made her heart ache.

Ivy sat on the bathroom floor, head buried in her hands as her whole body shook with sobs. 

Harley was immediately kneeling by her side, arms wrapping protectively around her girlfriend without a second of hesitation. "Shh. It's alright, Ive. Everything's going to be ok…" Ivy had been acting strange since the wedding, but she hadn't been willing to open up to Harley. Now Harley was beyond worried, it was clearly more serious than the redhead had been letting on.

Ivy immediately relaxed into the blonde, tucking her face into Harley's chest. Eventually her sobs quieted down, but Harley could feel her trembling as she held her. While she tried to figure out what to say, she rubbed Ivy’s back comfortingly. 

After a couple moments of silence, after holding Ivy, feeling her tremble, listening to her uneven breathing… seeing her tear stained cheeks… realization began to dawn on Harley. God, she was so stupid and oblivious! She’d been so focused on her own feelings, she hadn’t even begun to consider Ivy’s… and how hard it must’ve been, being stuck in the middle of everything. 

“Ivy… I'm sorry. I’m so sorry… I’ve been so caught up in my own feelings, I hadn’t given any thought to how heavy all of this must weigh on you…” She brushed a strand of hair from Ivy’s face before continuing. “You’ve been through so much this past year, and I’ve been a pretty shitty friend. I should’ve been there for you, I should’ve helped you, should’ve protected you… and if I could go back in time and do it all differently, I would. A thousand times over.”

“...but I can’t, and that’s something I’ll regret as long as I live. Yet you’ve always been there for me, even when I created huge messes… when I joined the Legion of Doom, when I went back to Joker, when I released an army of parademons, when the Injustice League froze me… god, that last one sucked. Yet you rescued me. You always rescue me, Ive. Always help me. Always take care of me, even though I’m not sure I deserve it most of the time…” Harley looked away, shutting her eyes for a moment before forcing herself to continue. “...Ivy, you don’t have to pretend to be strong in front of me. You’re hurting… and that’s ok. We all hurt sometimes, but that doesn’t make us weak… or… or less human. I’m here now though. I want to share that burden with you, if you’ll let me.” Harley looked back at Ivy, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. “I love you, Ive. I love you so much… and if you ever… yknow, want to talk about… well, anything at all, really… I just want you to know I’m here.” 

Ivy turned her head away, and the next few minutes passed slowly in silence. Harley held Ivy, didn’t once let go, but with each passing second she became increasingly worried she’d done something wrong. Was it something she’d said? Oh god, had she made it worse? 

“Ive, I didn’t mean-”

“Harley.” Ivy pulled away slightly, raising her head so she could meet Harley’s wide blue eyes. “I-” She paused, choking back a sob. “I hurt you, I hurt Chuck… I hurt so many people… all because I didn’t know what I wanted then… and to be honest, I’m not sure what I want now, either…”

Harley’s heart dropped, and she opened her mouth to respond before Ivy cut her off.

“-...but Harley… so much has happened. You’ve made mistakes, I’ve made mistakes… and you’re trying to change… that’s good, and I’m proud of you… but you're right, we can’t change the past, no matter how hard we try.” Ivy shut her eyes, letting out a shaky exhale before continuing. “Opening up… relationships… hell, just being around other people is… is hard for me… but you showed me the good in humanity. That not all humans are… are monsters. My life before I met you… was… lonely. Even with all my plants, I had nobody to talk to. Nobody to confide in… but I liked it that way. It was safe. Nobody was going to judge me, or… or abandon me... and I guess that’s why I… why I chose Chuck… because he was the safer option.”

I trust you, with my life… but I don’t trust you with my heart.

Harley winced inwardly, but she understood where Ivy was coming from. Harley definitely didn’t have the best track record with… well, anything really. 

So I… I’m marrying Kiteman.

“I was… I was scared. Scared that if I… if I went with what my heart was telling me, it was just going to get broken… and after everything, I just… I couldn’t stand the idea of that happening. Of losing you again…” Ivy trailed off, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes.

You were my one friend, and I asked you for one favor, but instead you ditched me for the Joker, who treats you like shit! 

“Ivy… I had no idea you felt that way.” Harley spoke softly, using her free hand to lift Ivy’s chin so she could look into those beautiful green eyes… eyes whose depths she often found herself lost in. “I… didn’t know what I really wanted then. It was like… like I was trying to fill a hole inside me… like part of me was missing… and then, that night at the pit…” She smiled, using her thumb to brush a tear from Ivy’s cheek. “That was one of the most amazing nights of my life. I hadn’t realized… I hadn’t realized what it felt like to have someone else care about you. To have someone love you. Joker definitely never cared about me… not in the way you do… and... y'know, maybe I didn’t deserve it. Like I said, I haven’t always been the most reliable… but that changes today… if you’ll give me a shot, that is…”

Ivy looked up at Harley as she brushed the tear away, and smiled sadly. “...You’re trying to change… and that’s what matters. Harls, I do love you. A lot…. More than I care to admit… and… this whole relationship thing is new to me, but… I’m… I’m willing to give it a shot. To give you a shot… and today… today was proof of how much you’ve changed. How much you’re willing to sacrifice for others…” Ivy rested her head on Harley’s shoulder, but her mind was clearly wandering.

“...but that’s not all that’s troubling you, is it?”

“...perceptive as always.” Ivy chuckled halfheartedly, then looked away again. “It’s… it’s fine. It’s nothing important…”

“Well, I am a psychiatrist… but seriously Ive, you can tell me anything.” Harley stroked her cheek. “You know that.” 

“Harley, I really don’t want to talk about it… can we just… can you help me out of this dress?”

“...yeah. Sure thing.” Harley stood up before reaching out a hand to help Ivy up. She definitely wasn’t going to let this drop that easily, but Ivy clearly didn’t want to talk anymore right now… so instead Harley busied herself with the zipper of Ivy’s wedding dress and the sights underneath.

- End of part 1 -

I think all of it copied and pasted? If it looks like anything is missing please lmk!

This... this is what quarantine, lack of sleep, and having covid does to you. Helps you get over writers block. This is my first work I've gone public with, and originally I wasn't going to post it but a friend gave me the confidence to share it! So... here it is, I guess?

I was going to post it on Archives of Our Own too, but I have to wait till the 14th to get an account. 😐

Comments mean the world, even if it's just a couple words. I'll even take criticism to heart! By commenting you all can let me know what you think, and if you want to see the other parts...

Any interaction is appreciated, and my inbox and dms are always open! Thank you, and have a great day! (Or night!)

[wyn-n-tonic]

Golden, Like Daylight -- Part I

Word Count: 1,314 Warnings: PTSD. Drug use. As always, if I forgot anything, please message me and I will amend this warning ASAP. Note: In my head canon, Frankie has a daughter, I write a bit about this. I understand talking about babies can be triggering or people just don't like kids but it feels weird to say, "Warning: Baby." Feels a bit ominous. Like, it's not a vampire but just... ya know... be warned. Updated Author's Note (5.7.21): This is not a reader insert. At the time of writing this, I wasn't comfortable writing in the second person nor did I feel as though it was appropriate for what I wanted to explore in this series. This series is my absolute baby and it means so much to me. Thank you for reading. 

MASTERLIST | PART: I | II | III | IV | V | VI | VII | VIII | IX

It comes like lightning in the night, cracking through the tree of his spine heavy with years of hurt.

The first time he was tear gassed in the chambers at boot camp.

That time he crashed the chopper, losing twenty-something men all twenty-something years old. Men… they weren’t men. They were babies, he was a baby.

He remembers the time he had a panic attack in the jungle, squeezing involuntarily on… a kid, not the target.

He remembers the woman’s wail, “¡Mi hijo! ¡Mi bebé!”

My son! My baby!

He killed her baby.

“I killed the baby!” He’s up but his heart’s somewhere else, outside his body. It’s beating so fast he can’t even feel it anymore, not sure if he feels anything anymore and then—

Cool hands on his feverish back, he’s so hot she feels like ice and he sighs contentedly. Marrying the coldest girl in all of Texas had its perks. Her fingers wind into his too long curls at the base of his neck, her lips on his shoulder as she shushes him with a kiss.

“Come back to me, Francisco, you’re safe.”

“But I—“ he’s stuttering. Fuck.

“It wasn’t your fault,” her arms curl around his chest and she’s scooting closer to him now, pulling him into her as hard as she can, “None of it was your fault, it’s okay.”

“How can you say that?” The tears come like wildfire as he chokes out, “How can you hold me like this? Like I’m not a monster?”

Her arms pull tighter against his torso, he didn’t know that was possible. He doesn’t know how this is possible, how he deserved this. This woman, this love, this family she had made for him.

“Baby, listen to me,” her voice is hard and warm, honeyed whiskey to his aching ears. Splintered mind. Broken body.

He nods his head in the dark, whispering a soft, “Yes,” around a lump like coal burning through his neck.

“You are not a monster. The things you did, the things you saw, the horror that was inflicted upon you was not your choice. When you put the flag on your shoulder, Francisco Morales, you gave up autonomy in your decisions. You represented men who played chess with your life and you made it out. You made it out and they threw you away when you needed them the most but I’m not going to. Our daughter is not going to. You are not a monster, baby, and we will get through this together.”

“Luna,” he breathes. His girl, his perfect little girl, “Where is she? Is she okay?” He’s still panicked.

“She's in her crib, baby,” her lips press softly to his shoulder again, “Do you want to go see her? Wanna go make sure she’s okay with me?”

He’s nodding again, untangling fingers from hers to swipe at his cheeks quickly. Afraid, every day, that this tear or that will be the one that changes her mind, changes her heart.

She lifts herself, holding steady to his shaking body the whole time. As if he’s the rock that the storm of her life batters against and not the other way around. Her hands find his and she’s lifting him too. His balance is unreliable, he never lets her go, trailing along the hallway to the baby’s room.

It’s quiet, peaceful. His happiest place, painted like a sunrise. He wanted it that way, clouds around her cradle, his baby growing up in the heavens. He remembers the first time he ever went up there, like it was the first breath he ever took. All rising pinks and melting blues.

He wanted her to feel that freedom from the very beginning. —————

He was so fucking scared when she came into this world.

He was afraid of marring her innocence with his past. He didn’t want his traumas to manifest upon her upbringing, the way his father’s had his.

That first cry shattered his heart but when she wrapped her tiny hand around his finger, he was whole again.

They named her Luna, because he could always find the moon above the clouds. Could always find his way home.

That’s when he started using again. His fear of fatherhood choke holding him, undoing all his hard work. His therapy, his group therapy, his NarcAnon. He promised himself it would just be once.

Just to get through the day, Frankie.

And it turned into…

The week.

The month.

Six.

Next thing he knew, he was flying high and fucking up. Nose bleeds and slurred words, too fast movements and too fast reactions. He was randomly selected for a drug test.

His license was suspended. He was grounded, under review pending cleanliness of a piss test.

That’s when Leah snapped. His patient, strong wife. She’d said things here and there about his use. Argued about money, “Where's it going, Francisco?” The name she uses when she’s calling him back to her, pulling him into her or, like now, close to killing him. Eyes wide with anger and fear at watching her family fall apart because of the actions of one man.

“I'm not going to beg you to get clean. I am telling you,” the tears streaking down her face, voice raw with contained rage bubbling to the surface, “You were able to do it by yourself once, so get your shit together. Or I swear to god, Francisco Morales, I will walk out that door.”

His eyes haven’t left hers the whole time and he knows she’s serious. She promised she wouldn’t leave a man actively working against his ghosts, she’s soothed more sleepless nights than anybody should’ve, but she never promised to stay through active drug addiction. Could not. Would not bring her daughter up in a home dusted in white powder.

He nods, “okay,” lifting his hat from his head and he is pouring buckets. He’s coming down from earlier but he knows he’s gonna need more soon. And another after that. So on and so on until—

He sees the door slamming on an empty home, shocked still with the future his actions will lead him to.

“I’ll find a meeting tomorrow.”

Her glare bores deep, “you’ll find a meeting today, Frankie.”

He bites his lip, not daring ask for another hit to get through til then.

“Francisco!”

The world comes back into focus. How long had he been staring at everything and nothing? His eyes find hers again and his voice is weak as he says, “My stash is in the box with my dog tags and medals, my first pilot’s license.”

“I know.”

He’s nodding again, of course she does.

“The withdrawals are going to start soon, how should we handle this?”

She crosses her arms, pain stitched through every feature of her face, “I think you should stay with Benny and Will for a while. Until you’re clean.”

So he did.

One week goes by and he sweats with a restlessness he’s sure will bust the very seams of his being.

Two weeks and all he wants is sleep, even with the nightmares.

Three weeks and, Jesus fuck, he’s hungry.

Four weeks and the depression sets in, deeper than he’s experienced since he first started getting help back in civilian life.

Five weeks and he’s… not cold anymore. He doesn’t sweat. He doesn’t feel anything, he can’t concentrate on anything.

Can’t focus on Benny’s shitty fight lessons. Doesn’t even listen when Will practices that fucking speech like he hasn’t given it a million times already; to cadets, to soldiers, to the mirror. The only things he can think about, the only things he cares about, are still too far away.

Leah, Luna, the sky.

He needs all three to be whole.

To be Frankie.

A desperate man aching to be complete and to provide again.

That’s how Santiago Garcia found him.

TAG LIST: @greeneyedblondie44​ @justanotherblonde23​ 

[decennia]

i give u free reign to infodump ab all of the knights and the og army bc i am vv intrigued agjgssgsh

THERE IS SO MUCH HERE OMFG MORAL OF THIS STORY NEVER ASK ME TO INFO DUMP BECAUSE I WILL TAKE FULL ADVANTAGE OF IT—

I've separated it into sections:

The Knights of Walpurgis, and the motivations for their assigned sins.

Dumbledore's First Resistance, and the motivations for their assigned virtues.

The dynamics between the opposing contenders.

Given the sheer volume of information, I've included a cut. Please enjoy this manip that I am still very proud of.

THE KNIGHTS OF WALPURGIS (later known as Death Eaters) Tom Riddle (Pride)

Pride and arrogance were very large contributing factors to Tom Riddle's downfall in the end, and honestly, the whole idea for the gifset came from Florence + The Machines' Seven Devils playing while casually thinking of Dagrim and Tom, and then about how perfectly Tom would fit as Lucifer.

Dagrim Patil (Avarice)

When questioned about what she wants, and what Riddle promised her in exchange for her unwavering loyalty, her response is, quite simply: everything. Dagrim grew up starved not for affection, but recognition. And what she was denied in childhood, she would take in adulthood by force. Her philosophy is that if something is worth wanting, it is worth taking.

Cantankerous Nott IV (Lust)

We know so little about Theodore Nott's father from the source material, other than he was elderly, and he raised Theo himself. And that he was a Death Eater, of course. His name is an ode to his ancestor, the Cantankerous Nott who created the Sacred Twenty-Eight pureblood directory. I assigned him "lust" purely for the events leading to the conception of his son (sis, it gets messy).

Abraxas Malfoy (Envy)

Abraxas Malfoy envied Tom Riddle to the point of a half attempted mutiny. He was quickly put in his place, his co-conspirators made examples of, and spared only for his close friendship with Dagrim, who pleaded for his life. Riddle, who trusted Dagrim to a fault for all she'd done to earn it, conceded. Abraxas would later prove himself to Riddle again, regaining his seat among Riddle's favoured generals. He was the one who taught Lucius to never disobey the Dark Lord, and he was not a kind teacher.

Ulysses Mulciber (Gluttony)

Indulgence and excess, spoiled rotten and filthy rich. The Mulcibers were the richest of the Sacred at one point in their lives, rivalled only by the Malfoys. Ulysses never knew the meaning of "enough," and was a glutton not only in all manners of vice, but also for cruelty, dealing it out carelessly with little to no regard for the repercussions he was well protected from by his noble standing and wealth. He was one of Riddle's greatest allies and sponsors, and instrumental in his rise to power.

Carmilla Avery (Wrath)

Carmilla was in the year above Riddle, and was quick to anger and slow to calm. Her temper was legendary, and even her younger brothers – also admitted into the Death Eater ranks – feared her. She had an untempered fury, a rage at the world for no reason at all. She developed an unhealthy codependency with Abraxas Malfoy, who served to have a soothing presence over her. People seldom survive crossing her, as her reputation dictates.

Serafine Lestrange (Sloth)

Serafine is not lazy (as the sin "sloth" would suggest), she just lacks the motivations to pursue the goals that are expected of her. A particularly bright witch, and a wealthy one too, she never applied herself at school for she didn't see the need. Instead, she fell into a fascination of the Dark Arts, where she met Riddle, perusing the Restricted Section. She is rather discontented with life, disillusioned from already such a young age. She initially joins Riddle's gang for the excitement of it all.

DUMBLEDORE'S FIRST RESISTANCE (later known as the Order of the Phoenix in its official conception in 1970)

Albus Dumbledore (Patience)

Name a man more patient than Dumbledore, I'll wait. Better yet, he'll wait, because he's patient as hell. So patient, in fact, he waited until after Harry's supposed death to come to him as a hallucination and tell him about how he was a Horcrux.

Rathin Patil (Temperance)

Temperance is abstinence, and I wanted to explore the kind of toll having his sister so far gone into the dark would have on any man, let alone one who really cared for her and wanted to do right by her. Rathin is not a perfect man, he is still fallible, and unfortunately, he develops a dependent comfort in inebriation when Dagrim disappears with Riddle. He pulls himself back together, especially when he becomes Isaiah Moody's partner at the Ministry, and he begins to pursue Miraya.

Miraya Varma (Diligence)

Methodical and persistent, Miraya Varma earned herself a position at the Ministry immediately out of Hogwarts where she would later go on to form her own task force within the Ministry specifically designed for the interrogation and recommended sentencing of dark wizards and witches. She has been known to put her duty first, up until the birth of her son, Divyansh Patil, father to Padma and Parvati.

Isaiah Moody (Humility)

For a very long time, people seldom knew the Moody name, and that was the way Isaiah liked it. He believed that his line of work would endanger his loved ones (in spite of his wife being in the same profession) and so he never took credit for the numerous arrests he made. It was Isaiah who suspected something was strange about Morfin Gaunt's arrest while investigating the Riddle Massacre, and consulted Dumbledore about it. Once his identity was discovered and he was viewed as a threat by Riddle, an attack was made on his heavily pregnant wife, jeopardizing her and his unborn boy's (Alastor) life.

Minerva McGonagall (Chastity)

Mini Minnie is seventeen, my dudes. But not only that, Minerva grew up with a religious father (he was canonically a reverend), who probably taught her his values. Also given the fact that Minerva was the first of the younger generation to participate and involve herself in the war (she sought out Dumbledore and enlisted herself into his Resistance, fearing her family would be made into another statistic if she didn't at least do something to intervene), she really didn't have much time to think about something as arbitrary as the concept of virginity. Also, it's the 1950s.

Corinne Scamander (Kindness)

Corrine is honestly the greatest. She has all of the tenacity of Tina, and the best qualities of Newt. It was Dumbledore's previous bond with Newt that encouraged him to recruit her, and she willingly accepted, because of course she would. She'd always been the soft spoken girl with a tender touch and a love for life, and she was often the advocate for hope in the resistance. She was adept in a few healing charms she'd learned from her father, and was something of a specialist in magical beings, proving herself to be highly valuable while Riddle was expanding his ranks with all manner of dark creatures.

Declan Diggory (Charity)

Sacrifice is in the Diggory blood, and Cedric's grandfather, Declan, was not the first to prove it. He also, unfortunately, wasn't the last, but he sure was one of the best. Selfless to a fault, Declan would willingly get hypothermia if it meant someone else would have warmth. Diggory's contributions to the war effort consisted of offering sanctuary and shelter to muggleborns who received death threats, and orchestrating the evacuations of targeted muggle residences. He was the leader of a small faction of the resistance, including, but not limited to: Fleamont Potter, Enoch Longbottom, Wilhelm Shacklebolt, and Ramona McKinnon.

DYNAMICS (just the contenders for now because this is hella long)

Albus Dumbledore vs. Tom Riddle

Adversaries, a fair deal of mistrust and guilt from Dumbledore's side (upon reflection, he'd been the one to introduce Tom to the wizarding world; even though he knows that if Riddle had been left unchecked, the risk of him becoming an Obscurus would've resulted in catastrophe all the same). Riddle sees Dumbledore as nothing more than a foolish old man, a pest, and an obstacle to overcome at first, but learns to begrudgingly respect Dumbledore's strength and mastery of magic (after all, Riddle only knew him as the Transfiguration teacher before, and thought the accounts of Dumbledore's victory over Grindelwald had been exaggerated to great effect). Riddle's hubris was believing he could defeat Dumbledore on his own, thinking himself already stronger than Grindelwald ever hoped to be.

Rathin Patil vs. Dagrim Patil

Rathin had always been very protective of Dagrim, and loved her dearly, although his acts of affection were often misinterpreted as pity and condescension. This only served to push them further apart. When Dagrim turned to the Dark Arts and found solace in Riddle, it revolted Rathin, as he was hugely against the corruption the Dark Arts has on the performing witch or wizard, and wouldn't wish it on his worst enemy. He still very much loves her, and it hurts him to fight her. Dagrim, on the other hand, finds catharsis in duelling her brother, believing it to be justice for the way her parents treated her and the little he did to dissuade them.

Miraya Varma vs. Cantankerous Nott

A mutual respect and an academic rivalry, Cantankerous and Miraya were not friends by any means, but not enemies, either. Cantankerous even went as far as to warn Miraya of an impending attack, allowing her to evacuate the building. But although he knows she's clever, he also knows that she's incredibly stubborn, and displayed little surprise to find her awaiting him in the now vacant building. They are equally matched, and their unique relationship spans several decades, even into Cantankerous' failed run at Minister for Magic, and Theodore and the Patil twins' time at Hogwarts. She was present at his trial following the Battle of the Department of Mysteries, and watched as he was sentenced to life in Azkaban for his crimes as a Death Eater.

Isaiah Moody vs. Abraxas Malfoy

Given his profession, Isaiah has a lot of enemies on the Sacred Twenty-Eight who are loyal to the Dark Lord. One such enemy is Abraxas Malfoy. When Tom gets word of Moody's involvement in solving the Riddle Massacre, he sends Malfoy and a newer Death Eater, Evangeline Rosier, to hinder the investigation. Abraxas and Evangeline were responsible for the attack on Isaiah's heavily pregnant wife, who, if she hadn't been an Auror herself, would've never survived. Alastor Moody was prematurely born at St. Mungo's following the attack, and all of Isaiah's efforts were turned on exacting vengeance on those responsible. Malfoy went into hiding, but Isaiah, ruthless, managed to hunt down Rosier. She died under questioning, setting in motion a vicious cycle of vengeance between the Moodys and Rosiers. Once Isaiah had been killed by Evangeline's brother (Evan [who was named after her] Rosier's father), Abraxas deemed it safe to rejoin society.

Minerva McGonagall vs. Ulysses Mulciber

On the list of things Ulysses loathes, he would put half-bloods above muggleborns (although he turns a blind eye to his Dark Lord's blood status when it conveniences him). Half-bloods only serve as a reminder of the lowest and weakest of his kind; the unworthy muggleborns, the lecherous blood traitors, the vermin muggles. Mulciber prides himself as something of a "purifier," and finds great enjoyment in pruning family trees that have been poisoned by muggle blood into purity once more. He takes a great interest in Minerva McGonagall, given that she is an incredibly powerful witch at such a young age, and he wonders how glorious she would've been had she been a pureblood (a twisted and untrue belief among the Sacred Twenty-Eight during that time). Minerva, the threat of Mulciber weighing heavily on her, places her family under Dumbledore's protection. She vows to stop Mulciber and his perverse idea of justice.

Corinne Scamander vs. Carmilla Avery

It didn't take much to enrage Carmilla Avery, and Corinne had been caught in the tempest Carmilla's fury since the day they'd met. Carmilla, who took great pleasure in picking on people she deemed lesser, made a target out of Corinne, perceiving her kindness for weakness. During their time at Hogwarts, Corinne had gained the attention of Avery for being a blood traitor and a muggle sympathizer, which only strengthened Carmilla's vindication. Corinne, who had been friends with Rubeus Hagrid prior to his expulsion, and who had almost fallen prey to the basilisk when she had heard Myrtle Warren's cries from the bathroom, never lowered herself to Carmilla's level nor did she rise to any of the challenges. This hurt Avery's ego, as she thought this was Corinne's way of claiming herself better than her. It wasn't until after Hogwarts that Carmilla's growing resentment came to a head, and, without the protection the school offered Corinne, Carmilla was looking to finally put an end to the blood traitor line of Scamander.

Declan Diggory vs. Serafine Lestrange

Declan and Serafine were childhood friends who drifted apart during their time at Hogwarts, particularly when she fell in with Riddle's crowd. She is viewed by Dumbledore as having the power to sway the entire outcome of the war, for if Serafine could be persuaded into leaving Riddle, her cousins (one of whom is the father of Rodolphus and Rabastan Lestrange) would surely comply, and the families who held the Lestranges in high regard would be inclined to follow. This makes Declan and Serafine key pieces in Dumbledore's game of strategy. However, Serafine was disowned long before she defected from the Death Eaters, leaving the Lestranges firmly in Riddle's grasp. Although Serafine claimed to feel nothing for Diggory, she still refused to deal any real harm to him when they duel, in spite of having ample opportunity to do so; something which Riddle picked up on. She was later forced to torture Declan in front of him to prove her loyalty to the Dark Lord, something which Declan permitted her to do, knowing she had very little choice in the matter. He was left for dead, but Serafine would later secretly return with Corinne to get him medical attention. She gives her son, Francis, "Declan" as a middle name.

[the-volume-is-astronomical]

The Crown, The Sword, and The Gay

The Tower

A/N: mi gente im just trying something out and seeing if people like it :] ive had this done for like months and months on end and i finally decided to share it so em enjoy 

First | Previous| Next

words: 2380

summary: Roman’s stomach is making it very clear that this talk wasn’t going to end well... as long as he doesn’t end up in that tower.

pairings: eventual prinxiety, eventual intrulogical, eventual moceit 

warnings: some potty language (not much), stress, anxiety, disappearance mention, flashback, crying

(let me know if theres any other)

Roman felt himself waking up, maybe because of the stupidly bright sun hitting his eyes, he didn’t know how that was possible since he remembered closing the red velvet curtains shut tight, so he didn't have this exact issue. So, when he heard some ruffling and things being moved around he wasn’t all that surprised. 

¨Rise and shine, you little brat¨ Ruth said in a very tired but demanding voice. 

¨Oh dear nurse, allow me five more minutes¨ Roman whined putting a pillow over his eyes so he could block out the rude sun.

¨Oh, flattery will get you nowhere, mister.¨ Roman could hear Ruth moving around the room, preparing breakfast no doubt. Roman took the pillow off his face and sat up, hair a wreck, and his eyes squinting because of the light coming from the window.

¨And he finally rises,¨ Ruth said sarcastically.

¨Yeah, yeah, the dashing prince has awoken.¨ Roman said half asleep. Ruth helped him sit down so he didn’t trip over anything and started serving him breakfast, she wasn’t going to wait for him to finish eating as she was already heading for the big oak doors. 

¨Wait!¨ Roman sobered up, Ruth flinched a little at the shout but turned around anyway ¨Can I do anything for you?¨ She asked.

¨ Come eat with me, you for sure haven’t eaten anything today.¨ Ruth went to argue but closed her mouth when she noticed she, in fact, had not eaten.

 She sat down in the chair in front of the royal, Roman made a few hand gestures as if to show she was open to take anything, she knew the monarch wouldn’t eat until she had settled for something so, she took a piece of bread and started eating, as did he.

After a few moments of silent eating Ruth spoke up ¨I still don't understand, after all these years you haven’t become a spoiled brat that doesn't care for his servant¨ Roman didn't even look up at her he just said ¨I guess you raised me well.¨ Ruth almost choked on her bread and looked at Roman as if he had gone insane. “Oh come on don't be so humble Ruthie!¨

She still looked at him confused and a little annoyed at the nickname but mostly surprised he would say anything of the sort, ¨Ruth, you are my nurse. You have been with me my entire life, You fed me when I was a baby for god sake! I consider you a mother, even if I have another mother in the throne room right now,” Roman shivered at the thought of having to talk to his parents after the events of the past week but continued anyway “and I sure as hell think of you as the person who raised me.¨ 

Once he had finished he immediately put a mouth full of food and kept eating as if hadn’t given that speech. Ruth still looked shocked but cleared her throat ¨Well, then I made you a sap!¨ Roman started laughing ¨How will your future spouse ever forgive me?¨ Roman burst out laughing and Ruth gave a small chuckle. 

Ruth stood up and went to Roman's closet to gather his outfit for the day, while he finished breakfast. She threw the clothes at him “Hey!¨ Roman made his trademark over dramatic gasp. She sighed “I unfortunately also gave you my dramatics…”

 “And I don’t resent you for that!” Roman screamed back with a big smile on his face. 

Ruth looked like she had something on her mind. Roman didn’t have to wait much before she said what that was, he never did. ¨Would that make you and my Remy brothers?¨ she said, actively ignoring the prince’s comments. Roman stood up going towards his shoji screen to change behind. ¨Ha! We already consider each other brothers so it wouldn’t be much of a change.¨ Ruth started making his bed “Well this is new information to me.¨ Roman giggled a bit 

¨Remy´s supposed to be back by noon, he passed a lot of territories to deliver this message so I sure hope he’s alright¨ Roman has always thought she was a worried mother even to him when he went on long trips.

Roman stepped out from behind the screen and reassured her ¨ He’s fine! He may act reckless but he's very calculating… but expect him a few hours later than what the estimated time of return” Roman slipped away looking for his shoes. ¨Oh and why is that?¨ she asked, hands on her hips, Roman gave a nervous chuckle. 

Shouldn't have let that slip.

“Roman…” Ruth said in a warning tone. Remy was going to kill him but he didn’t want to die at his nurse’s hands “Remy’s been... seeing... this person a-and when his message trip aligns with where they live… he spends some time with the person so…” Ruth looked at him as if deciding something, “As Remy’s mother, I thank you for telling me the truth..” Roman was relieved “But, as your mother, I have to say…YOU SNITCH! Snitches get stitches for a reason!” Roman laughed genuinely and Ruth joined.

After their giggle fit, they heard someone knock on the door. Ruth went to answer the door, it was a guard “His and her highness request the prince’s presence,” Ruth thanked the guard and turned around and Roman looked mortified, “Roman, you have to talk to them.” Roman had never heard Ruth speak that soft. Roman only felt dread “Ruth I don't want to go” He was genuinely petrified.

“I understand, but they are very understanding and I believe they wouldn't punish you for simply trusting the wrong person” Roman shook his head “ They’re already so protective. They always had me under knight or guard surveillance but now they might do something so I won’t be able to sneak by” Roman was panicking and Ruth noticed, she walked up to him. And took his hand “Roman they just want the best for you…” Roman took his hand away from her own “No! They are just afraid they aren’t going to have an heir after one of them ran away.” Roman's hands were in his hair and his eyes started to glaze over.

Roman was very much not over his brother's apparent “disappearance”

“I understand Remus vanishing has affected your parents over protectiveness, BUT they have always aimed to protect you but after what happened...can you really blame them for it?” Roman sighed, Ruth forced his hands out of his hair, he took a shaky breath to calm down “No, but getting hurt is part of life! So what if I trusted the wrong person? Everyone does!” He gestured to the sky as if it was the only person listening, he felt so defeated. 

“Well I can't change anything so, you should tell your parents that!” She didn’t know what to say to make things better. “I’ll try, let’s just hope they at least try to listen” he left it there and headed out of his bedroom’s oak doors, he never liked disagreeing with Ruth. 

 Roman walked down the long hallway towards the throne room but, of course, he wasn’t alone because that would be too much to ask apparently. Instead he was being escorted to see his parents by the guard that had informed him his parents required him. He already knew what they were going to talk to him about and he was dreading it.

Why did he have to make such a mistake?

Did the universe want him to not trust anyone after what happened?! If it would make the sinking feeling in his stomach leave then he would happily oblige.

The guard stopped at the throne rooms doors and Roman took a deep breath as the guard gave him side eye glance and opened the doors, “You required my presence?” Roman spoke trying to keep his voice steady and his head high, “Yes, Roman, we would actually like to talk to you about last week's event…?” He phrased it as a question a little too late. Roman’s father, King Leonardo, wasn’t an emotionally driven person and never was truly soft with anything he said, but he cared. The way he was soft spoken with Roman was just having the opposite effect that his father wanted.

Roman’s mother, Queen Victoria, was very comforting and always tried to shield her children from harm's way, but coming from a family of royals, she didn't have an example to follow but she wanted to be there for her child. “Roman, my little lion heart, I need you to keep in mind this is for your safety...ok?”  Following everything by the book, always looking and being her best, so she would be a good example even if she wasn't nurturing, all she wished was for Roman to know she loved him and Remus with her whole being, Roman just gave her a tense nod as a response. 

Roman’s Father spoke up, “Roman, you're going to be under knight supervision at all times,” That wasn't as bad as Roman expected, he basically already was! Anything but to be stuck in that damn tower “...And you have to stay in the south tower-” ...He should have knocked on wood. 

“Father, I did nothing wrong! I shouldn't be punished for this-” Romans mother spoke up, she knew both her son and husband could be hot headed. She wanted to stop anything before it got the chance to begin “Roman this isn't to punish you! We want to protect you-” The Queen sounded like she was pleading with her son.

Roman did not hear her plea or just ignored it “...For how long do I have to stay there?” Roman’s mother spoke up, “Don't worry, you'll be there maximum 2-” 

“Indefinitely.” 

The King spoke in a cold unforgiving tone, Roman knew he had messed up big time. Victoria turned to her husband “Leo, we agreed he wouldn't be there for more than 2 fortnights, we agreed on that.” The Queen seemed upset but was obviously attempting not to show such emotion. 

“Those were the rules we agreed to when he was a child and he would grant being punished” Both of Roman’s parents were staring at each other, showing they weren't going to back down.

Roman spoke, “Understood.” His voice was mostly monotone but tight, Victoria turned to him with an apologetic gaze. Roman shook his head. It was his own fault, his mother shouldn't blame herself for his actions. 

“I'll tell Ruth, so we can pack.” Roman turned to leave but his father had more to say. “Before you go, Hugo won't be your assigned knight. One of the new recruits is climbing in status and popularity very quickly and he agreed to-” “babysit” Roman cut in. “-protect you. As long as I recommended him to Queen Marie for her armada” 

As if things couldn't get any better, he had to meet this new recruit, he hoped they would at least get along. Roman just nodded and opened the door to leave. At that moment, Roman’s father called the guard that had escorted Roman to get the new recruit as soon as possible, he just left as quickly as he could. 

His parents knew that not being around people and not being able to talk were some of the worse things that could happen to him. They decided it was going to be the way to punish him. Though, he never stayed for more than a month, now he understood why. 

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As Roman- basically power walked- back to his room, his brain tortured him with memories of his 7 year old self being forced onto the tower for the first time.

No! Please it was an accident-!

I won't do it again!

I won't- Please! 

That was all he said as his father signaled the guards to take him, his mother not being able to look, turned her head away, trying to ignore every motherly instinct in her body to stand up and comfort her child. 

The guards dragged him out of the castle- the only home he knew- and shoved him in a carriage, where Ruth was waiting for him. Ruth had always been happy around him but her expression was unreadable -looking back she seemed angry, he just hadn't seen her that way before- but, Roman didn't care. He threw himself onto Ruth and sobbed his tiny heart out, Ruth trying her best to calm him down, he eventually fell asleep. Three hours later, he was woken up by Ruth.

“Were here, principito”

Roman was scared. Ruth saw it in his eyes. 

“Come on! You offend me, you really think I would let them take you to a scary place?” 

The little royal could only muster a small “no”. Ruth took his hand and walked with him toward a tower. Roman thought it was beautiful, that's the day he figured beautiful things can hurt you. 

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Roman never got used to it. He always dreaded the ride there, all the build up to the feeling of nothingness. When he looked up at the tower, he got the same feeling that he did when he was 7, Roman learned to not look up. He’d always prefer being in the tower when he was a kid because, back then they allowed Ruth to stay behind with him. Now she would only go in the carriage with him and leave.

After they stopped allowing Ruth to stay with him, at least he had Hugo to bother, by asking him for stories of his adventures. He didn't have that anymore.

The only adventure story he had now was a vibrant red book, in the book shelf of the tower, the only fictional book in his whole collection. He will admit, it was a very smart move on his parent’s part. They always monitored what he read, filled his whole book shelf in the tower with Philosophy, Math, and Royalty etiquette. When he begged for weeks on end for an adventure book they granted him one but, they made sure it was the only book that was fictional. They wouldn't give him an adventure book based on real events, No! That would be giving Roman too much hope. 

Good move.

[css1992]

Guilty Pleasure

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

All the warnings listed on Part I apply.

Read on AO3

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

-x-

Almost two months after moving out of Beck’s place, Peter was able to rent an apartment in the same building as Ned and MJ. It was tiny, of course, but pretty inexpensive, compared to other options he found around that area. Besides, with the money he made with Just4Fans over those few weeks, he would be able to afford it comfortably for at least a few months – largely thanks to YKWIM. He still planned on saving up as much as possible, so he put a lot of effort into making his account grow and it was working – by the end of April, he was up to five hundred subscribers.

He didn’t check to see what Beck was doing, he was too afraid to look and see him with his new boyfriend, but he got lots of comments from his old fans, who still followed Beck, telling him that the new boy had nothing on him. Again, he didn’t dare to check, but the ego boost was nice, even if he didn’t really believe them. Also, he was down to crying once every two days instead of every other day, so he was counting that as a win as well.

His apartment was still pretty empty, specially because he spent most of his time downstairs at his friends’ place, but he decorated the bathroom and his room to the best of his ability, since they would be the background of pretty much all his videos and pictures. He also bought some new lingerie sets, a few costumes and sex toys he wasn’t even sure how to use, but he was slowly figuring them out.

Aside from decorating his room and the bathroom, he also bought an armchair and placed it by the  window with a couple of pillows. It was a nice spot to spend the afternoon reading or working on his computer. The light in that apartment was great, sunlight streamed right into his living room and warmed it up nicely. As they approached the end of April, the weather was getting better everyday.

Some days, he felt happy. He felt okay with the fact that he was still doing porn and that it wasn’t a terrible crime. Sure, it wasn’t what he had planned to do with his life, but he was young, he would eventually figure things out. For the time being, he needed that gig and he couldn’t beat himself up for it. Also, it wasn’t so bad now that he was only doing solo stuff.

Some other days, though, were just – hard. He remembered all the videos that were still online and he felt awful for the sole reason that they existed. Not so much for the ones he filmed with Beck, he was somewhat okay with those, the guy was his boyfriend after all, they had sex anyway, the only difference was the camera in the room. But the other ones…

When he started filming with other men, it quickly turned into an unpleasant experience for him. He hated every second of it and always ended up feeling guilty, used and disposable at the end of the day. Beck didn’t make it any better with the way he looked at him afterwards as he told him to get in the shower.

He wasn’t entirely sure of the reasons why those videos bothered him so much, sometimes it felt like it wasn’t even him in them. It was like he was watching a different person, he looked at himself and felt completely dissociated from that boy – at the same time, he looked at him and he knew – he knew – exactly what he was feeling when those were shot.

But that was a lot to unpack and he just wasn’t ready for that particular crisis.  

So in short, sometimes he was still a little unsure about how long he would be able to keep his Just4Fans account, because even though most days he didn’t feel too weird about it, sometimes it reminded him of things he preferred to forget. But that was fine, he was usually able to work around that. Also, most of his subscribers were great and didn’t make him feel like a cheap whore, so he had that going for him as well.

YKWIM was one of the good ones. They chatted almost daily, and Peter always sent him exclusive pictures and videos just because. He never posted those pictures on his feed once he sent them to him, it was their little secret. In return, he got his own collection of short videos of YKWIM finishing himself off. He didn’t know much about the person behind the videos, he’d taken to calling him daddy because most of his subscribers seemed to like it and YKWIM never complained, so it stuck.

Peter did know he lived in New York – which made him shiver – and that he was a businessman of some kind, but he also always talked about a workshop, so Peter wasn’t sure and he avoided asking personal questions. He worked most of the day and into the night, they usually talked when it was late, always around two in the morning.

He traveled a lot, too, and sometimes sent Peter small clips of his hotel rooms or the view from his balcony. In return, Peter sent him pictures of his messy bedroom and the horrible view from his window as a joke. It was nice talking to him, he always made Peter laugh – and then it often ended with a very satisfying orgasm that put him right to sleep, which was awesome.

Peter estimated YKWIM was older than Beck, but not by too much. He clearly had a fit body, which at first led him to believe he was in his thirties, at most; but he noticed YKWIM sometimes talked about the 80’s like he lived them, so he had to be at least in his forties, but Peter couldn’t be sure. He really wished he would show his face, though, it would be nice to have one to fantasize about. But then again, maybe it would ruin the whole thing.

One afternoon, after Peter spent hours taking pictures, shooting videos and editing them so he could post them over the following week, he got a message from YKWIM. He hurried to check it and was shocked to see that he had sent him yet another tip – forty thousand dollars this time.

“For you to buy pretty things so you can show them off to me.” Said the message that came with the money.

Peter almost dropped his phone when he saw it. It had been only five weeks since his last insane tip, so that made fifty thousand dollars in just a little over a month. For, like, thirty nudes. Who even was that guy?

“Wow, daddy, that’s way too much!” He added a flushed face emoji, for lack of something better to say. He was honestly feeling a little overwhelmed, even if the guy had millions to spend, there was no way just giving someone that amount of money was normal.

“That’s not nearly enough for what you’ve given me, baby.” Peter’s cheeks burned.

“I’m very flattered, but please, I really don’t think I deserve all this.” He was pretty sure he sounded pathetic, but that was how he felt, so. Yeah.

“Oh, but you do. Trust me, you really, really do. You’re worth every penny.” Peter bit his lower lip, a little unsure and still a little shocked.

“At least tell me what you’d like to see from me, please. Do you have any kinks that you’d like me to perform? Don’t be shy.” He asked, even though it always made him nervous to offer that kind of thing. Sometimes people were just waiting for the perfect opportunity to make the weirdest requests.

But, to be fair, he had been talking to YKWIM for over a month, so he somewhat trusted him not to ask for anything too absurd.  And then again, the guy had just paid him forty thousand dollars.

“Well, if you insist...” Here it comes, Peter thought, bracing himself. “Red and gold are my favorite colors. I’d love to see you wearing them.” Oh. Not what he was expecting at all.

“Done! Anything else? Come on, there’s gotta be something else.” Again, risky move. But again, forty thousand dollars.

“I’d love to hear you. You’re always so quiet in your videos. If you feel comfortable, I’d love to hear you call my name.” The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end at that request. It sounded… almost sweet? It obviously wasn’t meant like that, it was completely sexual, but out of all the wild things he could have asked for, he wanted to hear Peter call his name.

“What’s your name, daddy?”

“Tony.” Tony. Peter tested the word out on his tongue, saying it out loud once, twice. Tony. It suited the image he had created in his head. Tony.

“I can definitely do that, Tony. Anything else?”

“Buy yourself something pretty and send me a picture wearing it. Nothing sexual. Something you’d wear to a date with me.” Peter’s breath hitched. He supposed it was probably just a weird, rich people kink or something, but his mind went wild anyway. Very, very wild.

“I don’t know what I’d wear to a date with you, daddy. Any advice?”

“I like expensive and beautiful things such as yourself, baby.”

Normally, Peter wouldn’t appreciate being called expensive, like he was a thing to be bought, but he felt weirdly flattered by the answer. He promised YKW – Tony – he would send everything he requested over the next few days, and he was actually excited about the whole thing. And of course he knew that feeling was trouble, there were warning signs flashing like crazy before his eyes, but he ignored them and convinced himself that he was just having fun and he was allowed to have fun if he was going to keep doing porn. He didn’t have to feel miserable and guilty all the fucking time. He could – and should! – take some pleasure from it. He deserved it.

So the following day he asked MJ to go shopping with him, but he still didn’t tell her the whole story, he just said it was for his Just4Fans and she readily agreed to go. They went to Victoria’s Secret and Peter told her what he had in mind.

“So, how’s the job going? You’re doing okay? Not too overwhelmed?” She asked coolly as they searched through the panties section.

“Yeah, it’s fine, it’s different when I’m in control, you know? Like, I know my limits and I don’t need to count on other people to respect them. Well, most of the time. So it’s cool.”

Some subscribers were a little pushy sometimes, asking for things Peter wasn’t willing to do and then getting really aggressive after being told no. But it didn’t affect him as much as it did when Beck ignored his boundaries, because those pushy subscribers could be easily blocked, whereas with Beck, well. It was a different story.

“Don’t ever feel like you need to push your limits, okay?” Michelle stopped what she was doing to grab him by the shoulders and force him to look at her. “If you ever feel like stopping, for whatever reason, just do it. No matter what, you’ll always have me and Ned, understand? We’re family, we’re here for you, we’d never leave you alone. If you want to stop, we’ll figure something out together, you hear me?” The way she looked into his eyes made him understand that she really meant every single word of it.

Family. He had a family with them.

Peter felt silly tearing up in the middle of Victoria’s Secret, so he pulled her into his arms and hid his face in her neck.

“Thank you. I needed to hear that,” he muttered, as she squeezed him a little tighter, before pushing him away.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t get all teary-eyed on me, come on, you’ll ruin my reputation.” She looked around, sniffing, then stuck her hands in her pockets. Peter laughed halfheartedly, drying the corner of his eyes. “C’mon, there are panties to be bought.”

They spent a couple of hours searching the store, but in the end he found the perfect set. He bought some other pieces, too, for his feed, people had been asking for lingerie a lot lately, after a slightly weird phase of cat ears and tails. Once they left Victoria’s Secret, Peter was nervous because he had to tell MJ at least part of the truth to get her help with the second part of Tony’s request.

“So, listen,” he started and she turned to him, happily sipping her large coffee as they walked down the street. “I have this subscriber. He’s, like, a rich, old dude who always sends me tips and stuff. Anyway, he gave me some money and asked me to buy something nice and pose for him, but like, not in a sexual way. He wants to see me clothed.” She frowned, staring at him suspiciously. “Um. I was wondering if you could help me with that?”

She was silent for a few seconds, just looking at him with narrowed eyes. He looked away discreetly, trying to avoid her mind-reading skills.

“Should I be worried?” She asked, finally. He shook his head and chuckled nervously, waving a hand dismissively.

“He’s harmless, just some lonely, old dude. So, will you help?” He looked at her expectantly. She was still frowning and definitely knew something was up, but she nodded anyway, to Peter’s relief.

“What do you have in mind?” MJ asked and resumed her stroll down the street, Peter had to jog a little to keep up.

“Something expensive and beautiful,” He quoted Tony, like an idiot, because he honestly had no idea what that meant.

“That’s oddly specific and somehow not helpful at all.” She lifted an eyebrow and looked around the busy street. “How expensive are we talking about?”

“I’m not sure. Very?” He answered nervously, and, yet again, she looked looked like she wanted to rip the truth out of him, but she also knew that was not the way to go with him.  

“How much did this guy give you?”

“Um. for – five thousand dollars.” He stuttered. He couldn’t bring himself to tell her the actual amount, because it sounded absolutely insane and she would worry unnecessarily.

“Holy shit!? Fuck, why aren’t I doing porn?!” She screeched and Peter hurried to put his hands over her mouth, because at least three people turned around to look at them.

“Don’t even joke about that, you hear me? You have a bright future ahead of you, don’t fuck it up,” he told her seriously and she looked like she wanted to argue just for the sake of being annoying, but something in the way he looked at her must have made her realize he meant it.

“Chill, I’m joking.” She patted his shoulder and looked away. “So. Five thousand dollars? We can work with that.”

He was a little scared of the weird gleam in her eyes, but followed her anyway.

They spent the rest of the afternoon shopping, it was a lot of fun and he even got her a pair of shoes she kept staring longingly at. She was worried they would go over the budget because she wanted him to save some of the money, but he assured her he could afford it. They managed to put together a great outfit that he was very confident about and then called Ned to meet them for dinner in the evening.

Later, they took the subway home and, for a while, he felt like a normal 20-year-old guy – happy, weightless and just a little heartbroken, like everyone was bound to be at some point in life. He was going to be okay, he realized. That thought hit him like a punch in the face and it felt fucking awesome.

He rested his head on Ned’s shoulder with a sigh of relief, feeling the warmth of MJ’s hand on his thigh.

It was around midnight when he got home, which for him was still a little early, he had developed the terrible habit of going to bed well after two in the morning – he blamed Tony, but to be fair, many of his subscribers were mostly active around that time as well. He debated whether or not he should start working on Tony’s requests, he was a little tired from a long day of walking around carrying bags, but also surprisingly eager to show the older man what he got for him.

He took the Victoria’s Secret bag and displayed the new outfit on the bed. It was a simple, but beautiful lingerie set. What Peter loved most about it was the fabric – it was made of deep red satin, smooth and glossy, and it felt simply amazing on the skin.

He decided to try it on, just to make sure it fit properly.

The top was a delicate bralette, two little triangles only big enough to hide his nipples and a little bit of his pecs. It was the perfect size for him, it sat flush with his skin, no unflattering cup gaps. The panties were tiny, Peter wasn’t too sure about those back in the store, he was worried not everything would fit in it. It did, but just barely, but it actually worked in his favor, in his humble opinion. Lastly, he put on the garter belt, which was just a thin piece of fabric that went around his waist, with two straps that hung down to clasp onto two elastic bands that went around his thighs.

Since Tony said red and gold, he also put on a thick, golden choker, just to see how it would look.

Once he was dressed, he went to check in the mirror. He bit his lower lip, running his hand over the fabric that covered his chest. It felt really smooth, and the way it brushed against his nipples sent shivers down his spine. He closed his eyes and imagined it was Tony’s hands on his body. They looked strong enough to hurt, but he imagined they would be gentle with him, as they traced a path from his collarbone to his neck, to wrap themselves around his throat – but not tight enough to choke him, just a promise.

He sighed, as if to check that he could still breath under the pressure, and slowly slid his hands down from his neck, brushing his hard nipples on their way down to the front of the panties – God, it was so smooth...

For some reason, he imagined Tony would be a gentle lover. Maybe it was the way he talked to him, always so charming, all sweetheart and baby, all praise and compliments. Maybe it was the way he never demanded anything, only asked nicely, all please and thank you.  

Tony wouldn’t ruin him, like he promised so many times in those last few weeks, he would fuck him long and slow, raspy voice whispering sweet praise in his ear, rough hands holding him down, hips snapping with each unrelenting thrust.

He bit his lips, knees buckling as he felt the front of the panties getting wet, while his leaking cock struggled to get free.

Well, then.

He grabbed his camera from the closet and positioned it on a tripod in front of the bed, just a few feet away, and programmed it to take pictures every five seconds. He sat on the bed, facing the camera, feet still on the floor, and just closed his eyes for a minute, letting a sigh escape his lips as the fantasy from before filled his mind again.

He spread his legs and his fingers reached down to the front of his panties again. His cock felt impossibly hard, straining against the delicate fabric, dark pink tip peeking out of over the top of the tiny underwear. He touched himself slowly, hips rocking lightly to match the pace of his own hand, as he listened to the clicks of the pictures being taken.

He had to force himself to stop, before he lost control, and moved to kneel on the bed, with his side facing the camera, and lowered his chest until it was touching the mattress, letting his back curve in a sinful arch, head turned to the side, staring right at the lens. At Tony. Imagining what he would do if he were there.

He sat back on his heels and turned his back to the camera, spreading his knees, each of his hands grabbing one ass cheek, pulling them apart, only a thin, barely there strip of fabric hiding his nakedness. He looked over his shoulder and waited for the camera to take at least a couple of pictures.

Next, he laid on his back, side facing the camera again, left hand rubbing one nipple over the silky fabric, as the right one reached down the front of the panties, to finally give himself some sort of relief. He let out an almost pained moan as he wrapped a hand around his cock, pumping it slowly, once, twice, but all that teasing was driving him a little insane.

He knew he should probably take a few more pictures, but he also knew wouldn’t last much longer.

He got off the bed and went to the dresser where he kept all of his “work stuff”. He grabbed a tube of lube and a vibrator that was neither too small, nor too big, it was a size Peter was comfortable with.

He switched the camera to video mode, pressed record and resumed his position on the bed, knees on the bed, holding his lower body up, and chest resting on the mattress. He squeezed a generous amount of lube onto his fingers, pushed the panties a little to the side and circled his hole gently, slowly, because that was how he imagined Tony would do it. Those big, rough hands would have grabbed him by the hips, put him in that exact position, before teasing him mercilessly.

He moaned quietly and closed his eyes, rubbing slow circles around his rim, pressing a little against his entrance, but not hard enough to breach it. He felt his cock pulsing, begging for attention, but he didn’t dare to touch it, not yet.

“Tony, please...” He whined, pushing his hips back against his own hand, he was so lost in his fantasy he almost forgot he didn’t need to beg. Almost. “I need you...”

Gently, he started pushing one finger inside, knuckle by knuckle, he was so aroused he barely felt the burn, just delicious pressure that made his eyes roll to the back of his head. He started fucking himself on his finger, feeling the muscles around it slowly make way.

“’Been thinking about you, Tony…” he rasped out, hips pushing back against his hand. “Can’t stop thinking ‘bout you...” When he felt loose enough, he pushed another finger inside, the stretch becoming a little more noticeable as he slowly scissored himself open. He got on all fours and turned his back to the camera to give Tony a better view, all spread out for him, and kept fucking himself, picking up the pace once just those two fingers weren’t enough. “Fuck, daddy, need you so bad...”

He eased the fingers out of himself, sighing at the loss, and reached for the vibrator that was sitting on the bed and turned to face the camera again. He knelt on the bed and, with one hand, he propped the vibrator up on the mattress, holding it down from behind him, as with the other hand he guided its tip to his already abused hole.

He flicked the switch and it vibrated to life, nudging against his hole before finally slipping in. Peter’s breath hitched at the intrusion, feeling the delicious burn on his lower back, as he moved his hips up and down slowly, trying to push more of it inside with each painful thrust.

“Fuck me, Tony,” he begged, as his free hand finally reached for his neglected cock, pumping it hard and fast, matching the maddening pace his hips set. He lost all sense of rhythm when he felt the tip of the vibrator finally – finally – reach his prostate and he pushed it even further in, until the pressure against the bundle of nerves became too much and he exploded in one of the best orgasms he had had in a long, long time. “Oh, f-fuck!” His vision went dark for a second as he let himself fall back on the bed, wasted.

He spent almost ten minutes just lying there, trying to catch his breath and regain consciousness. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt like that, he was boneless, floaty, completely satisfied. It was honestly the best he felt in months.

When his legs stopped shaking, he got up and headed straight to the shower, still feeling a little dizzy and weak, but he wasn’t complaining.

Once he was finished, he debated whether he should just go to bed or send Tony what he had, but with the way he was feeling, he knew he wouldn’t be able to fall asleep so easily. So decided to send at least the pictures right away, even though it was nearing 3AM. Peter knew Tony was probably up, the man did say that he was an insomniac and that he sometimes went days without any real sleep, so it wasn’t a surprise when he answered just a few minutes after Peter sent them.

“Holy fuck, Peter!!” Peter bit his lower lip, burying his face in the pillow to hide his blush, even though he was alone in his room.“What the fuck, baby, it’s three in the morning, are you trying to fucking kill me?!”

“So you like them?” He asked with feigned innocence.

“I fucking love them, you little tease, these are hands down my favorites yet. I swear I’m gonna have them framed and hung in my workshop and I’ll spend the rest of my fucking days just writing odes to you.” Peter giggled into the pillow, turning on his side to get more comfortable on the bed.

“I bet you say that to all the boys.” He joked lightly, blushing again, which was stupid, but he couldn’t help it.

“Fuck no! You’re something else, kitten, and you don’t even know it.” Peter suppressed a smile, biting his lower lip.

“Are you touching yourself right now, daddy?”

“To be honest, I’m so fucking hard I think I’m gonna come instantly if I even brush my fingers on my cock. I’m literally just staring at the pictures right now and worrying I’m gonna come untouched just from that.” Peter laid on his stomach and bit the pillow, gently rocking his hips against the bed.

“That’s so hot. Can I see it?”

Seconds later, there was a video in the chat. He played it immediately and, sure enough, Tony wasn’t kidding. His cock was rock hard, throbbing, the head was an angry purple, already glistening with pre-cum. Tony was just holding it at the base, not daring to touch it, and the whole thing almost made Peter hard again, but he was really exhausted.

“Fuck, daddy, I really wish I could help you with that.”

“Oh, you don’t even know what I wish.”

Tony didn’t say anything for a few minutes and Peter figured he had gone to sleep, but then his phone beeped, alerting him to another message from him. It was, of course, a picture of Tony’s spent cock, resting against his belly, which was covered in come, so much of it Peter’s mouth watered.

“Was it good, daddy?”

“The best, sweetheart. Thank you. I’m gonna sleep like a baby today.” Peter chuckled. Tony always said that was high praise coming from someone who hardly ever slept and the younger man took his word for it.

“Goodnight, Tony. Talk to you tomorrow?”

“Looking forward to it, Pete.”

He knew he was fucked the second he tried to suppress a small smile, but couldn’t.