#i mean i’m thinking about asking my psych to admit me but it’ll take two more WEEKS till my next appointment :)))

[bpdamn]

you see, the problem is: i don’t feel bad enough to be hospitalized, but i don’t feel good enough to be a somewhat functioning member of society either

#i mean i’m thinking about asking my psych to admit me but it’ll take two more WEEKS till my next appointment :))) #text #bpd #actually bpd #borderline #actually borderline #borderline personality disorder #eupd #bpd blog #generalized anxiety disorder #depression #major depressive disorder #cptsd #actually cptsd

[jackdaw-kraai]

[pokes my head out from under a pile of nonsense thoughts] what if Canon!Vader met Guides!Vader?

(It's 1am and I'm feeling it, don't mind me🛌🤳)

O o f. Well, that’s a can of worms, nonny, and has multiple answers depending on where in the timelines it happens. For simplicity’s sake and to save my poor typing fingers, I’ll be taking one Vader from the Guides Verse, the one in the last installment of the Interlude arc, and measure him up against various instances of the OT. Cool? Cool. Let’s roll.

For reference sake, the Vader from the Guides Verse already has formally adopted Luke, broken free from Palpatine, and gained an armor upgrade, so his quality of life is significantly better than what we started out with.

Guides!Vader vs. Just-Before-The-OT-Kicks-Off Vader: Honestly just Vader seeing his slightly younger self and realizing that holy shit, he had it fucking awful. It’s often easier to feel compassion for others than for one’s self, so this would be a weird warring instinct in Guides!Vader where he’s only just started to learn not to hate himself with the fury of a thousand suns and his reawakening sense of “need to protect everyone.” In the end, I think his protective instinct would win over the others which would absolutely wig. him. out. as he’s essentially feeling compassion for himself??? It’s weird, is what it is, and he’s trying not to think to hard about it as that would mean some critical reexamination of his own psyche. 

Conclusion: Guides!vader would mostly try to awkwardly steer this Vader into the direction of Luke without causing any time rifts and reassuring him that it will get better. It’ll be a lot of work, and he won’t feel like he deserves it, but he’ll be loved again, and it’ll all be worth it just for the person who loves him. 

OT!Vader would be deeply confused and disturbed by this version of himself, as it’s essentially him, but... not in constant agony. Or apathetic. And the armor doesn’t look like his own design style either, which means that someone was willing to make that for a monster. Or maybe he finally forced someone to?

Conclusion: OT!Vader would be lost and confused, is what I’m saying, and maybe, even if he wouldn’t admit it to even himself, a little bit hopeful again. 

10/10 interaction, Just two awkward nerds trying to navigate around the other while the elder nerd tries to steer the younger into better healing and healthy relationships. 

Guides!Vader vs. Just-After-The-OT-Kicks-Off Vader: A horrifying wakeup call for Guides!Vader as he realizes that his apathy could and would have resulted in the destruction of a whole planet and all its inhabitants since he couldn’t find it in himself to interfere and was only saved by the grace of Luke reawakening his protective instincts. Just... resigned horror and sadness as he realizes that this version of him feels nothing at the death of a whole world. Then a dawning realization that he felt nothing plenty of times when whole cities and people were wiped out under his command because his master demanded it. Would probably result in a hell of an internal crisis as he kicks his own redevelopment of compassion and morals in a way higher gear than he can handle at the moment. 

Conclusion: Guides!Vader would be processing the destruction of Alderaan and all its implications and memories that it would reawaken in him in his own way, and probably not have too much processing power available for this empty version of him. Or, if he could keep his wits about him, ask this version of Vader some very pointed questions that poke at all the things that still could make him things at his most apathetic. Perhaps even invoke Padmé. It wouldn’t be a good time. 

OT!Vader would... probably gain the inklings of something as he realized that this version of him was... grieving Alderaan in his own way. Might shake something loose inside him that unsettles him as it begins to ping questions to his brain about why this version of him is upset. When was the last time that he was upset? How? Machines don’t— They don’t—

And if Guides!Vader could get out his questions it would quickly morph to confused pain and rage as his defense mechanisms went into full overdrive. Unfortunately, this opponent has all of his own skills and none of his limits due to the upgrades curtesy of Luke. A knock-down, drag-out fight would result where one party would hurl pointed questions and accusations while the other would rage and try to make them shut up. Honestly, who even knows how this would end? It might wake OT!Vader up from his apathy, it might just piss him off as a defense mechanism to not have to deal with feelings and consequences. Though again, Guides!Vader has the overall advantage here, so something really might just change, but it would have none of the gentleness of the previous interaction and could very well result in major injury.

Conclusion: OT!Vader would be confused, unsettled, and potentially highly pissed and desperate to make Guides!Vader shut up as he forces him to think about all thing things he doesn’t want to. Might reform, might not, honestly, I don’t think even he would know.

8/10 interaction, a real ghost-of-Christmas-future moment for both that neither quite knows what to do with. Copious amounts of sunshine therapy would be needed to really put everything right again.

Guides!Vader vs. ESB!Vader: Puts the “vs” in the title to good use! Damn the rules of time travel! Damn the rules of alternate universes! Damn everything under the Suns thrice! Guides!Vader doesn’t give a single shit about any consequences that might occur, this fucker hurt Luke. He’s going down. Would personally rock up to Cloud City to kick ass and take names the moment he became aware of the situation. Would kick OT!Vader’s ass on behalf of Luke powered by nothing but the sheer r a g e  of a Papa Wolf. The Dark would on his side, snarling, and both in full agreement that his alt version is getting wrecked for hurting Luke in any damn way. 

Emotional, physical, mental, metaphysical, it doesn’t matter a single damn to Guides!Vader. Luke is hurt and that requires retribution, even if this Luke isn’t his Luke strictly speaking. Adoption is a thing, he could probably smuggle this one back with him anyway. Luke wouldn’t mind a brother, would he? Might have to take his friends too, just to be safe. After he slices his bastard alt version into tiny pieces.

Conclusion: Guides!Vader would be high on righteous fury, parental instincts, and the Dark as he met this version of him, and would honestly have nothing but murder on his mind. Wouldn’t rest until this version of Luke never had to fear his Vader again and would honestly be too preoccupied with this tiny ball of sunshine to pay his alt version any mind beyond the rage. 

OT!Vader would be having a hell of a time fending off this version of himself too. None of his own weaknesses, and while enraged and clearly not thinking too straight, that’s not exactly a disadvantage when fueled by the Dark. Honestly might be the one time he’d actually be afraid during a duel, aside from maybe his encounter with Obi-Wan on the Death Star. No time for introspection or discussion, this would be a fight for survival and likely one on the backfoot. Probably would have to retreat from Cloud City just to not get nuked to kingdom come by his alt version. Would have no idea what was happening and why, just that his black cyborg claims to be him from another time and wants. him. dead. And honestly, that hatred of him might be the one thing they’d be able to agree on. Conclusion: Still confused, but now also scared and maybe even somewhat terrified into thinking about his own actions. Would resent his alt self for blocking him from his son, and probably be weirdly jealous of himself if he ever caught wind of his alt self interacting with Luke, which would make him almost realize things about his own psyche that he probably doesn’t want to. 

10/10 interaction, I want to see this fight happen and would pay good money to see it. Bonus points if we get confused-and-somewhat-scared OT!Luke thrown into the mix who suddenly has a highly protective and more emotionally competent version of his Father fussing over him like there is no tomorrow. Because damnit, he deserves that. 

Guides!Vader vs. ROTJ!Vader: Guides!Vader would still be pissed at this Vader for hurting Luke, but also deeply disturbed now that he can see clearly how much this version of himself is not Free. Would be discomfited, frustrated, and enraged by the fight between OT!Vader and OT!Luke and would put a stop to that nonsense pronto. Most likely by shanking the Emperor and getting it all over with. Would lecture his other self to hell and back on how Free people don’t try to kill their own Son of the orders of someone else, damnit! Would ask the stinging question if he even wants to hurt Luke and go from there based on the answer. Likely course of action would be to just slap this version of himself around a bit until he stopped being fighty and then, urgh, talk to him. Would question his own sanity and ask himself how his own Son had the patience to help him through this bullshit. 

If he saw OT!Vader get zapped by the Emperor while yeeting the bastard over the railing he might be able to be persuaded to use his knowledge of his own suit to save the bastard if OT!Luke insisted, but would be equally happy to let his alt self bite the dust. Well... “happy,” really. He’d feel a load of complicated feelings but regret wouldn’t be one of them. 

Conclusion: Tired, Done, frustrated, pissed, highly uncomfortable, and generally just Not Having A Good Time as he deals with a load of baggage that once had his name on it too and honestly just wants to scoop up ROTJ!Luke and go home. Would be willing to save his alt self but at this point in time is also just as happy to let him lie in the bed he made. Really just the epitome of a tired dad.

OT!Vader would honestly be too far into depression and apathy at this point to have much of a reaction to his alt self at all. He would be confused, but at this point he’s so tired and worn down by life that he would all just let it happen. Luke’s rejection had the time to sink in, and if there’s one thing that’s true of all Vaders, it’s that Luke is their little star, and without him they’re very, very lost, and very, very lonely. Even if OT!Vader wasn’t exactly a stellar father and failed to be what Luke needed, he still loved his son in some way. Losing him would have dimmed his fire far enough that even the appearance of an alt version of himself wouldn’t be able to shake him out of it. 

Even the fight and lecture might only be effective because he just doesn’t have the will anymore to fight these revelations and realizations. Pretty ready to die and get it all over with and might not necessarily appreciate Guides!Vader saving him, even if it was on OT!Luke’s insistence. 

Conclusion: Tired, confused, and honestly just ready to go into that good night without much of a fight. But still wants the best for his son, and might be able to be motivated to keep going by Guides!Vader and OT!Luke using that to their advantage. Needs a hug and even deserves one in my opinion. 

9/10 interaction, excellent fix-it material if you don’t think too hard about it, but loses one point for having emotional baggage that hits a bit too close to home. Could win that point back with a Luke hug or two. 

Well then. That answer your question, nonny?

#The Guides Verse

[teddy06writes]

Greek Myth Series: Eros and Psyche Part One

Eret x afab! reader

trigger warnings: yelling, mentions of pregnancy

premise: so the story of Eros and Psyche is kinda complicated, and no that many people know it, if you want to find out about it in a different context you can here or if you want to go into this blind, go ahead.

list of Greek Gods/characters for this work

Eros- Eret

Aphrodite- Puffy

Zephyrus- Philza

Zeus- Dream

Pan- Tubbo

{I tried to keep this gender neutral, but in the myth Psyche does end up pregnant, and its kind of a big plot point, I'm sorry.}

{also I forgot how long this story is, so I'm going to split it in two, on one hand so that I don't leave yall without content, and two because it'll be easier for me that way}

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There was a city state, long ago, near the sea, that was known for its beautiful royal family. The eldest daughters of the king had been considered the most beautiful in all of the land, until the youngest child, (y/n), came of age.

It is said that their beauty surpassed that of everyone in the kingdom, and where ever they went the people flocked, eager to earn their favor.

(y/n) knew of their beauty, but they did not look upon themself in vain, but they did know that this beauty caused jealousy among many, especially their sisters.

What they did not expect of this, was when the people of their kingdom began to worship them, as if they were the goddess of beauty, Puffy herself.

Now this was never something that (y/n) wanted, all they had wanted was to live a normal life, but now they had to stay shut up in their chambers, trying to ignore the cries from outside.

They were admired by all, yet wanted by none.

And as Puffy grew jealous, and planned with Eret to exact her revenge, (y/n)'s father sought help from the good oracle of Delphi, what was he to do if everyone in the land loved their looks, but no one wanted their hand in marriage.

As the months passed, and their chambers seemed to become even more like a prison and their sisters married other monarchs, (y/n) began to loath their beauty, wishing there was some way to be rid of it.

Having returned from his journey to Delphi, the king entered their chambers, "My child," Said he, "I have sought an answer, and answer, the oracle has given."

"And what answer is that?" (y/n) asked.

"In three days time we will hold your wedding," He took a shaky breath, "You are to be wedded to a dreadful monster, and in three days time, we will take you to the rock spire, at the edge of our kingdom, and leave you to him."

A gasp rippled through (y/n)'s throat, and they fell to their knees, "Father please don't leave me to die!"

He shook his head, "It is already done."

The three days passed in quick succession, and soon, (y/n) found themselves being led through the kingdom, dressed in a blackened wedding gown.

As their parents wept, they held their head high, having resigned to their fate.

Upon reaching the top of the spire, their family tearfully departed, leaving (y/n), wind whipping through their hair, dreadfully alone. Slowly, they inched closer to the edge, staring down to the rocky shore from which the pillar had grown.

A partially strong gust of wind caught them in the back, unexpected, and as they toppled over the side a scream ripped through their throat.

It took them a moment to realize that they had not made impact with the ground, that rather, they were floating, flying, being carried across the lands.

"Fear not," A disembodied voice assured them, "I am Philza, the west wind. No harm shall come to you."

(y/n) remained terrified until they were at last gently set upon the soft grass of a meadow.

"Go now, explore your new home." Philza urged.

Slowly, (y/n) moved forward, gaping as a huge villa came into view at the other end of the valley. As they drew further up the path, more disembodied voices greeted them.

"What is this place?" They asked softly, looking around in amazement.

"Why do you wonder so much of this finery? It is your own, do go inside, and rest and bath, and then there shall be a great feast." A soft, breezy voice returned.

Hesitantly, they did, enjoying a fresh bath, and much food and entertainment, but slowly, as night began to fall, the gayety died away, and they were urged to get ready for bed.

Having changed into night clothes, and climbed into bed, the lights were dimed by unseen servants, and they were told, "Rest now dear, your husband shall arrive soon."

"My husband?" They asked, confused, but there came no answer.

They laid awake, anxiously, until footsteps sounded on the floor.

"Who are you?" They demanded.

There was a soft chuckle, "Worry not, sweet (y/n), I am not here to hurt you. A husband should never have such intentions with his betrothed."

"Who are you?" They asked again, shuffling away as a weight settled on the other side of the bed.

"Your wife," she repeated, "I must admit, I didn't think of the consequence you might have faced upon hearing that dreadful fake of a prophecy. My dear, I am sorry, but could find no other way to take you away from the prying eyes of some."

Slowly, he retold the story, of how he had fallen in love with them, for the way that they had carried their burden, and when she had heard the plans of many, that they had to get them away.

"Alas, my sweet, you may not know my name, nor may you ever be permitted to see me, for it might tear us apart. For that, I am sorry."

There was a note of sadness in his voice, enough to tug at something in (y/n)s chest.

~~

He had away-ed at dawn, long before (y/n) awoke, leaving them to their thoughts of what had happened that night.

The following days seemed to follow the same pattern, until soon a week had passed, and then the weeks began to blend into months.

Back in the kingdom, in which (y/n) had lived, word had reached their sisters of what had happened, and each day they began to gather at the spire, calling for them, wishing they hadn't disappeared.

But, their husband warned them, that even though (y/n) could hear there voices, they must never call back, and the sisters may never be allowed into the valley.

For some time, (y/n) worked to comply, but hearing the despair in their sisters voice wore them down slowly, to the point where even when they were remind of how cruel the women could be, they did not care, and only wanted to see them again.

It got to a point, where one day, after their husband had left, they slowly crept from the villa, and dashing across the valley, called to Philza, begging him to take their sisters to the valley.

"Are you sure, (y/n)?" He asked.

"Yes, please, I'd do anything to see them again!" They begged.

Reluctantly, Philza's winds carried the sisters to the valley, where (y/n) embraced them, "My sisters! Don't weep! I'm safe!"

They hugged them back just as tightly, before letting go and looking around at the valley, and the villa.

"You live here?" The eldest asked.

"Yes, it is my husbands villa." They replied with a smile, "Come, I'll give you the tour, and then we may walk the gardens."

As the siblings moved from room to room, and (y/n) gave their tour, the sisters became increasingly jealous.

They had been married to old men, hardly holding onto their titles as king, why should their little sibling get all of this?

Soon, they were seated in the garden, nibbling on the food the servants had prepared.

"You certainly live in luxury (y/n)." The middle sister remarked.

They nodded, "Yes, I suppose I do."

"How does your husband afford all this? What does he do?" The elder asked.

"Well..." They trailed off, thinking, "I'm not sure."

"You mean you don't know?"

Slowly, (y/n) explained what had happened, and their husbands conditions of never being seen.

"Oh (y/n), honey," she pulled a sympathetic face, "He's clearly hiding something from you, and such a shame, you being pregnant with his child."

They glanced down at their stomach, they weren't showing that much, were they?

"It might turn out to be a monster, for all you know. You've never even seen him."

"No! He's not a monster!" They insited.

The sisters continued to build up the idea of their husband lying, or disguising himself, both in a subtle agreement to ruin everything (y/n) had.

"he's not!"

Frowning, one sister leaned forward and patted her hand, "Maybe, but you don't know. Just to be sure, when he has gone to sleep tonight, light a lantern, and look at him, just to be sure."

"I think you should go." (y/n)s voice was hard, and soon Philza was returning them to the kingdom from which they had came.

Night returned, and along with it, their husband.

She had fallen quickly to sleep, though (y/n) lay awake, their sisters voices filling their mind.

What if they were married to a monster?

Slowly, shakily, they rose, and finding a lamp, carefully lit it, before turning to their wife's side of the bed.

In the flickering lantern light, (y/n) beheld their husband for the first time, dark brown hair falling in curls about their head, and large feathered flings pooling at her back.

They gasped in amazement, turning to find a set of quiver and arrows at the foot of the bed, suddenly it made sense. The bow, the inhuman beauty- they had wed the god of desire, Eret.

Some how, all at once, they fell in love, toppling over the metaphorical cliff they had stood near for sometime, as the lamp suddenly felt to heavy for their hands.

Shaking, they moved to set it down, but not before a drop of oil spilled, landing on the gods shoulder.

In a cry of pain, she awoke, and looked up at (y/n) with wide eyes.

Without another word, they stood, gathered their things and began to leave, as they had come flying through the open windows.

"No! Please don't leave! I love you!" (y/n) cried, seizing his arm.

"You fool!" He roared, dragging them along with her, "I risked everything! I went I against mine own mother! She told me to punish you! and yet I fell in love! I created all this! All of this just to get you away from her prying eyes!

"Now the magic is fading you poor poor fool! She will find you now! You won't have much time! You- you listened to your sisters didn't you! They wanted this! I told you to not listen to them! You lie! Regard me as some beast to peak on in the night!" At last they shook (y/n) off, and they went tumbling to the ground.

"No love can exist with out trust."

With that they flew away, leaving (y/n)s cries for her to stay. And Leaving (y/n) alone, so terribly alone.

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Tag list: (send a request to be added, it will only be for this series)

@dreamslittlebitch

#mcyt x reader #eret x reader #the eret x reader #teddy 06 #teddy 06 writes

[janetbrown711]

"If I die, I'm never speaking to you again" - Wakko

Yakko had never considered himself the lucky type, which was hard to refute looking back at his past, but ever since Dot got sick, every time she lasted the night felt like a miracle. 

Scratchnsniff had been ultimately been right, staying there for three days did a lot to revive Dot’s spirits, though it was still clear she was still sick. It was just... better now. She wasn’t sweating and shivering uncontrollably anymore. 

The list of foods the doctor gave him wasn’t totally unreasonable, they were affordable and were often in the market. However, Dot had a tendency to be a picky eater, and since taste and healthiness often didn’t correlate, Yakko often had to trick or force her to eat. It was frustrating, but there was no way in hell Yakko was going to let her get away without eating, no matter how much she pleaded. She was losing weight at a frightening pace, she needed to eat. He didn’t care what she wanted. He’d do anything to keep her alive. 

And Wakko... poor kid. Wakko seemed just as- if not more- worried about Dot than Yakko was. He spent every day working as hard as he could for money, but the results were starting to get worse. The taxing on Acme Falls increased, and soon the menial tasks Wakko had been doing disappeared, as shop keepers simply couldn’t afford to lose a single ha’penny. Because of that, the amount of food they could buy was becoming scarce, so now they only had stale bread and vegetables for Dot. Everything Yakko and Wakko ate was hunted. However, the lack of business never stopped him from going into town and trying though. Yakko was pretty sure nothing could ever stop that kid from at least trying.

Still, it left Dot feeling awfully lonely. She missed her brother a lot, and was always happier when he came home. Hell, even he was happier when he was home. Goodness knows taking care of a sickly younger sister who would be running around and playing with her dolls one day and then unable to move for pain and coughing the next was damaging to one’s psyche. Wakko was a welcome relief and distraction for the both of them. 

“Whatcha thinking about Yakko?” Dot asked as she took a nibble from a piece of her stale bread. Yakko snapped out of his thoughts and noticed both of his siblings had been staring at him, probably for a while. 

“The usual,” Yakko shrugged and took a bite of his rabbit meat.

“Sorry,” Dot whispered. Yakko froze. 

“Dot, stop that. This isn’t your fault,” Yakko shot her a look. They had had this conversation roughly a million times, but no matter what he said it was never convincing enough. Dot didn’t argue this time, and just nodded her head. Yakko sighed, suddenly not hungry. He handed it to Dot. 

“Eat this too, you need your strength,” He said, standing up. 

“But Yakko-”

“No ‘buts’ Dot. Eat it.” He looked her in the eyes. “I’m going outside for a moment. When I come back in I expect all of it to be gone.”

Dot didn’t argue, thankfully. Satisfied, Yakko went outside of the small abandoned flower shop and sat down on a bench, feeling the cool air of the early mid-winter night. 

It had been two very long months since Dot had first gotten sick, and Yakko hadn’t stopped worrying since. After all, the last time he tried to relax Dot ended up sick. To say he felt guilty was a bit of an understatement. Every time she got worse, he basically spiraled into a ball of worry and never left her side, not even to take care of himself, something he also knew was bad, but he didn’t know how to stop.

Moments like these, where he was able to step outside and just... sit for a moment was nice. It was relaxing (if his mind didn’t wander and spiral, as it just had. If Yakko could have anything in the world, it would be an off switch for his brain). 

“Yakko..?” Wakko surprised his brother when he popped his head through the door. 

“Yes? Is everything okay?” Yakko said, glancing at the boarded-up window.

“Dot’s fine,” Wakko said, and Yakko relaxed again. “I just... need to talk to you.”

That part surprised Yakko. He gestured for his little brother to sit next to him, and he did. 

“Yakko, you know how there hasn’t been any work here for the last week?” Wakko said. Yakko bit his lip, how could he not? He nodded. 

“W-well, I heard rumors from the baker that a few towns over there were blacksmiths in need of apprentices and other jobs and I was thinking-”

“No.” Yakko shut him down. 

“Yakko, you didn’t let me finish,” Wakko frowned. 

“No. You aren’t leaving Acme Falls Wakko,” Yakko crossed his arms. 

“Why? I could earn more money out there than I can here,” He argued. 

“You’re barely nine years old. You can’t travel by yourself,” Yakko fought back. 

“Can too,” Wakko huffed. “You were eight when mum and dad died. You traveled alone.” 

“That is an entirely different situation Wakko and you know that,” Yakko shot him a look. 

Wakko didn’t back down, asking, “How?” 

Yakko thought hard about that. 

“Because Mom told me I had to. I’m not telling you you need to go, so you won’t,” Yakko said. 

“Yakko, stop being stubborn,” Wakko groaned and pulled at his ears. 

“You know we need the money.”

“The jobs won’t be easy- you know that, right? They’ll be borderline exploitative,” Yakko pointed out. Wakko rolled his eyes. 

“I know that, but if I go away for a year then you can really save on food and-”

“Hold up- a year???” Yakko stopped him again. Wakko looked away. 

“I-i mean... I’d try to come home earlier, but... a year most likely.”

“Wakko, we don’t know if Dot- if... if Dot has a year,” Yakko said, the words feeling like a stab in the chest to admit. Wakko’s ears lowered. 

“I know... I just- If I stay you’re gonna run out of money for Dot’s food a-and I can’t be the reason you end up not eating because money is tight,” Wakko couldn’t look at his older brother as he said that. Yakko paused, unable to speak. 

Sometimes he really hated how observant his little brother was.

“Wakko... you can’t...” Yakko tried to argue more, but something deep within himself told him that Wakko was right. 

“I’ll send any money I earn in the mail so you can keep buying Dot her medicines and stuff, maybe even get her new clothes and blankets,” Wakko explained. “I bet she’d really appreciate that.”

“She’d miss you a lot Wak...” Yakko said. Wakko sighed. 

“Yeah... I know. I really want to be here for her if something happens but I don’t know what other options are out there. I’ve thought about this a lot, it’s what I have to do,” He replied.  

“That’s evident,” Yakko ran his hands through his fur and sighed. 

“I guess... I guess you’re right, Wak,” Yakko admitted. 

“You mean you’ll let me go?” Wakko sat up. Yakko nodded and Wakko hugged him in a bone-crushing embrace. 

“Thank you thank you thank you Yakko! I won’t let you down!” Wakko smiled up at his brother. 

“Thanks for what? What’s going on?” 

The brothers froze when they saw their little sister standing in the doorway. 

“Dot- I-”

“Are you going away?” Dot asked, clutching her rag doll tightly. 

“Now Dot, Wakko and I were discussing it and-”

“You’re letting him?!” Dot’s eyes were now filled with tears. Yakko sucked in a breath, biting his words. 

“Dot-”

“No! You can’t go Wakko! I won’t let you!” Dot shouted at him. Neither brother moved. 

“Dot, we need the money-”

“I don’t care about the money Wakko! I care about you! You can’t leave me!” She pleaded with him. 

“Dot, maybe we should go back inside-” Yakko said, noticing the people around beginning to stare. 

“No!!! He can’t leave! I’ll die before he comes back!” Dot sobbed. 

“Dot- don’t say that!” Yakko scolded, trying to ignore the stares.

“NO!!! I won’t! If I die I’ll never speak to Wakko again! He can’t leave! He can’t he can’t he can’t!” She was uncontrollably sobbing now, and Wakko’s head was so low you could hardly see his eyes, but Yakko could see the tears streaming down his cheeks. 

With a determined breath, Yakko picked up his crying sister and brought her inside, Wakko followed close behind. 

“Put me down!!” She kicked and pounded her fists, but she was weak on account of her illness. Yakko set her down once Wakko closed the door. 

“Dot, I need you to calm down and let Wakko explain himself,” Yakko said. 

“Y-you’re sup-supposed to be on m-m-my side,” Dot sniffled and cried. Well, at least she was kind of calming down...

“Dot... Wakko and I just want what’s best for you. We need to be able to buy your medicine and food so you can stay strong and healthy, but right now it’s hard. There isn’t a lot of work in Acme Falls anymore and Wakko thinks there might be more opportunities outside,” Yakko explained calmly, not sure how much Dot could hear over her hiccupping and crying. 

“B-but I want Wakko to s-stay,” She said, a lot quieter this time. 

“I want to stay too Dot,” Wakko joined in. “But you need medicine and food, and for that we need money, and I can’t get the money we need here.”

Dot looked at the ground, trying to stop her crying.

“I might die and never see you again...” Dot gave in and cried again. Wakko didn’t hesitate and quickly hugged her. 

“I know... that’s what scares me...” He said. 

“So d-don’t go,” Dot looked up at him. 

Wakko sighed. “I can’t. I have to go. You’ll die a lot faster if I don’t.”

Yakko grimaced. Whether or not it was the truth, Yakko didn’t like to think about how soon Dot could easily... you know...

Dot sniffled and wiped away her tears. “I-i dunno...”

“Dot, please,” Wakko pleaded with her, before getting an idea. 

“I’ll write you letters whenever I can. We’ll keep in touch, it’ll be like I never left!” Wakko smiled, glancing at Yakko. He nodded in approval. 

Dot then glanced at Yakko. Yakko gave a similar look back, one that suggested “hey, I’m not the one in charge here, it’s whatever you wanna do”, if it translated correctly. 

“I-i’ll miss you a lot...” Dot kicked the floor. “B-but if you have to...”

Wakko smiled and hugged her again. “I knew you’d understand. You’re the best little sister ever!”

Dot smiled weakly. “I know.”

Yakko smiled too, glad she still had her sass despite everything. 

And so it was decided. Wakko was to leave the following week, spending as much time as possible with Dot- who was doing her best to try and act like she wasn’t feeling terrible and sick. But Dot never got past Yakko, and he made sure to give her more food than normal that week. 

Eventually, though, it was time for him to go, and it seemed the whole town showed up to say goodbye. At first, Yakko had been surprised at the turnout, but realized that Wakko had basically worked for all of them at one point or another. 

Yakko and Dot waited patiently for their brother to talk and say his goodbyes to everyone- even the mime, who Wakko (and most everyone else) hated. Once he was done however, the train had already pulled up, meaning their goodbyes were going to have to be quick. 

“I’m gonna miss you Wakko,” Dot said, giving him the best hug she could muster. Wakko hugged back. 

“I’m gonna miss you too, but don’t forget, I’ll write a letter as soon as I can,” He smiled. 

“You better,” Dot punched his arm. “Or else I’ll be mad.”

Wakko laughed. “Okay, okay. I got it. I’ll write, or else.”

Satisfied, Dot sat back down and it was now Yakko’s turn.

“So... you’re really going, huh?” Yakko scratched the back of his neck. 

“Yep,” Wakko said, bouncing on his heels. He knew it was getting close.

“Just-... don’t do anything stupid. And if anything happens, don’t be afraid to come home,” Yakko said. 

“I know, I know,” Wakko chuckled. They had had many conversations with that point sneaked into it several times in the past week. 

“I know you know, I’m just nervous. Mom always said to never split up,” Yakko sighed. 

“You’re a worry-wart Yakko. You need to relax, you’ll never be able to take care of Dot if you worry yourself sick,” Wakko pointed out. Yet again, Wakko flexed his amazingly strong observation skills. 

“I’ll try my best to keep that in mind,” Yakko said, and he meant it. 

“Just don’t forget to write- or else I’ll have to come find you and knock the senses back into you.” 

Wakko laughed. “I’ll write, I promise.”

Just then, the train’s whistle blew and the conductor made the last call. Wakko winced. 

“I’ll be back as soon as possible, I promise. I’ll send whatever money I can every two weeks,” Wakko said, before giving his brother a quick hug and dashing onto the train.  He then stuck his head through a window and while the train started to chug along, he waved goodbye to Acme Falls and headed off to hopefully greener pastures. 

Dot and Yakko stayed at the station waving goodbye, even after the others had left and the train was long gone. There was a void now where Wakko’s presence had once been and the two felt it strongly. 

Eventually, Dot began to cry and Yakko had to carry her back to the flower shop so she could get some rest and conserve her strength. 

He was going to have to do that a lot if they were both supposed to make it through the year. But they could do it, Dot was strong, and Yakko could make an effort not to stress himself to death. 

They were Warners. They were fighters, and none of them were going to be giving up for quite some time. 

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11

#animaniacs #yakko wakko and dot #wakkos wish #angst #dot warner #wakko warner #yakko warner #feels #tw: illness

[kaimelia]

can u please write one about the episode like amelia in the house and then in the end with meredith when they ate donuts

unconditional

a/n: hi! thank you for the prompt, I hope you enjoy it!

---------------

"Maybe donuts weren't the best idea right before bed," Link muttered, glancing over at the kid's dance party in the living room. "They're not going down for hours."

"It's okay. I've missed the loud house with kids everywhere; it's comforting to be back. Even if I have a bit of a headache right now." Meredith smiled at him. "Thank you. Both of you, for everything you've done over these past months, I'm going to spend the rest of my life trying to make up for it."

"Hey, you would do the same if something happened to Amelia or me."

"You're giving me a lot of credit here," Meredith laughed, wrapping a blanket around her shoulders. "Speaking of him, where is Scout? I haven't seen him in forever."

"He's asleep, but I'm sure he'll be up any minute now. He's teething, so he is not enjoying life right now." Amelia walked into the living room, two mugs of tea in hand, handing one to Meredith.

"Mhm, thank you." The brunette sat down next to her boyfriend, leaning into his side as she brought her mug up to her mouth.

"How do you feel, Mer?"

"Still not a hundred percent. And, I'm not going to have an easy time getting off of this couch, so I'll need help getting up later, but I'm just so glad to be at home." Amelia smiled and laid her head on Link's shoulder, placing her mug down on the table.

"Well, Maggie is currently drowning in wedding planning, so if you're gonna lay in bed, you can help her get some of that done," she raised her eyebrows, watching as her sister sighed heavily. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I just, it's a lot," Meredith laughed, nursing the mug of tea between her hands. Link glanced over at her and stood.

"Alright, kids, why don't we all head up to bed? It's late, and your Mommy needs to relax," he scooped Ellis up into his arms, causing her to giggle.

"Come give Mommy one more hug before bed," Meredith held her arms out wide as the kids came running over, jumping up into her embrace. "I missed you all so much," she whispered, kissing each of their heads and saying goodnight before Link chased them up the stairs, leaving the two women alone. "You're gonna marry that man, right? Because the more I get to know him, the more I feel like I missed out." Amelia blushed, shaking her head in amusement.

"Not right now, but one day. We're just taking things as they come and trying to find our way through this mess. Hopefully, now, we can have some more time to just be a couple and figure things out."

"Wait, are you moving out on me?"

"No, not for a while, at least. We'll stick around until things go back to normal, and then we'll probably look at getting our own place. Because I love it here, but I don't think there's space for Scout to grow up." She glanced over at the stairs as Link came down, clasping his hands together.

"Everyone's in their beds. Not exactly asleep yet, it'll take a little longer for the sugar crash to hit, but they're all upstairs." He resumed his previous position beside Amelia, wrapping his arm around her shoulder. "What're we talking about?"

"Moving out," Amelia whispered, curling into his side. "Someday in the future."

"You better stay close by. Maggie said that her and Winston's place is almost twenty minutes away, and I'm gonna need people closer. I haven't been alone in the longest time."

"You're not alone, Mer. Us moving out someday doesn't mean that we still won't be here for you all the time." Meredith nodded slowly, her lips pursed into a tight smile.

"I hate to ask, but do the kids know about Andrew?"

"No, it happened right after you got put on a ventilator, and we weren't sure they would take it well. And they haven't really asked because no one stops by anymore. They probably just think that he's working. But, if you want to tell them, we'll help," Amelia's voice was soft, and she let out a sigh afterward. "How're you feeling about it?"

"I'm gonna tell you something, but you both have to promise not to admit me to a psych ward after." The couple raised their eyebrows simultaneously, waiting for her to continue. "When I was sick, my brain would send me to a beach. I think it was supposed to be somewhere where I find comfort, but I saw people and talked to them while I was there. Dead people." Amelia sat up straight, and Link dropped his hand to her back, rubbing softly.

"Derek?" Meredith nodded.

"I know it's just some world that my brain made up, but in my world, he's been watching over us, and he knows about Scout." The neurosurgeon smiled sadly, turning to look at her boyfriend for a moment. "Anyway, uh, I saw and talked to a lot of my friends and family who had died, but also some people who are alive, like Bailey and Hayes. And, Andrew was there, and he left with his mother, so I sort of knew that he died before anyone told me, which sounds insane, but it's what happened." She was silent for a time after, sipping her tea slowly.

"You're not still seeing dead people, though, right? Because if you are, we might actually have to call a psychologist," Link muttered, his eyes wide. Amelia hit her hand against his chest.

"No, none yet, at least. I'll let you know if I do, though." Meredith grinned at him before a yawn fell from her mouth. "You'd think that after all the time I spent unconscious and asleep, I wouldn't be tired anymore."

"You were fighting the whole time, Mer, and you're still recovering."

"You gonna need help getting upstairs?" Meredith nodded slowly, watching as Link stood up. "Alright, ready?"

"What are you doing-oh!" She laughed as he lifted her up, holding her bridal style in his arms. "Amelia, I'm stealing your boyfriend!" Amelia grinned, taking the empty mugs and placing them into the sink among the other dirty dishes, turning off the lights, and heading upstairs. She walked down the hall to see Link pulling the comforter over Meredith's body.

"Goodnight, Mer," she poked her head in the doorway, "I'm glad you're back."

"Thank you two for everything. Try and keep the sex noises down," Meredith muttered, turning on her side. Link turned off the lamp as he laughed, whispering goodnight before following Amelia down the hall to their bedroom.

"Do not get any ideas, Atticus Lincoln. We are going to sleep because I spent the whole day chasing those kids around, and I need to crash."

"Fine." He feigned annoyance, quickly changing into his pajamas and joining her in the bed. "Goodnight, Amelia."

"Goodnight."

#amelia shepherd #amelink #amelia x link #amelink fanfiction #atticus lincoln #grey's anatomy #amelink fanfic #greys abc #greys fanfic #meredith grey

[whatiswhump]

Love your work, and would love another Bucky fanfic of Bucky in being involuntarily admitted to a psych hospital!!

Okay... so this is another one of after he's captured in CAWS, the poor boy is confused. Hurts much.

I'd also like to do one when he's more in his normal life and then has issues that require care.

(P.S. this is like a year late.... eep)

TW: Forced sedation, mental health, confusion

-

“He can’t be trusted on his own.”

“But does that mean we have to keep him as a prisoner? None of it was his fault.”

“No, that doesn’t change what he is capable of. He needs help and he needs to be kept away from the wrong people, this is our only option.”

The Soldier’s head lolled forward, he was fighting but the drugs were threatening to pull him under again. The men outside the holding cell were talking about him. With effort he dragged his gaze up to the reinforced window separating them from him. A coterie of men in suits and uniforms were watching him. Despite the heavy sedation that kept him crumpled on the floor he felt his face flush red in embarrassment, the pure helplessness of the situation-- he had new masters. He should have known he couldn’t stay gone. He would never be free-

That something like him was created to be owned and to be used.

“He’s been given enough sedation to take down a horse and somehow he’s still conscious. Kind of amazing.”

“Martin, you won’t think it’s so amazing when you’re the one tasked with keeping him docile.”

“I’m not worried about that, you know we have our methods. But it is hard to believe he’s the world’s most dangerous assassin when he’s drooling on the floor like that. Looks as harmless as a kitten.”

The soldier let his eyes fall. He didn’t even know why he was even trying to bother with listening to them. Why did it matter for him to figure out what they would do with him? It was foolish to even pretend like he had a choice.

If only he hadn’t squatted in that apartment for two nights in a row. He had gotten tired- no, lazy, it was no wonder they found him.

Now it would just be easiest if he let them do what they wanted. He didn’t want to fight anymore. If he was lucky maybe the Americans would wipe him again. At least then he wouldn’t have to be there for whatever they would make him do.

---

“Hey there, buddy. Can you look at me? Yeah attaboy, that’s it.” There was a bright light in his eyes, strong fingers were holding his chin. When he drowsily tried to pull away they tightened.

“Ah- ah, be a good boy, let me look at your eyes.”

The Soldier did as the man asked and stilled.

“Good,” The man cooed in a falsely gentle tone, “Not so much fight left anymore, huh?”

Don’t respond. He wasn’t allowed to respond to the scientists unless ordered. Pierce liked to punish him for that one.

“Damn they sure trained him, when does he snap out of the drooling mess and into an assassin?” A disembodied voice rang out from behind the man with the light.

The Soldier blinked again, were the scientists going to actually do something?

“He’s cleared for another dose, everything looks normal.”

“There’s my answer then. Hey James, time to take the little pills again.” The voice from behind was giddy, the soldier didn’t understand.

But then a cup was being foisted into his vision much too quickly and his head was being tilted back by another pair of hands. He opened his mouth willingly, perhaps they would actually knock him out for this experiment?

---

“Shit. I mean he wants to see him. We can’t very well say no to Captain America.”

“We can and we will. Mr. Barnes is much too unstable at the moment.”

“He’s already here and the director has already ordered that we allow it.”

Who was Mr. Barnes?

“Jesus, they’re gonna send him off the deep end again, he’s just barely responding as it is now. Doesn't even know where he is...”

“We’ll keep him restrained, it’ll be fine.”

The Soldier continued to stare at the wall that faced away from the cell door. They might stare at him but he at least liked to ignore it. He knew he wasn’t supposed to mind. Someone had told him that once. At least he thought? Someone with cold eyes.

---

They had him set up at a table, attached to a chair with a jacket with no ends to the sleeves that wrapped around himself.

He had forgotten himself as he sat there, empty. He remembered he was good at that.

A door opened but at first no one came through. The Soldier could only think that he was tired. He wished they’d put him back into cryo.

“Buck.”

A man had appeared, was standing right in front of him. He looked ... in pain?

“Hi, Bucky, they said you might not remember me,” The blonde man laughed uncertainly, “Judging by the look on your face, guess they were right.”

A sad smile replaced the wry one that had appeared during the laugh.

The Soldier stared back, confused. This didn't make sense.

“Is this a memory?” The Soldier couldn’t help feeling like he had seen this man before, an old handler long gone?

For a moment the other man’s face lit up, but just as quickly it fell back into the creased forehead, “It’s been that bad huh?”

What had been bad? The mission?

“Permission to speak?”

The creases grew deeper, was he making the handler unhappy?

“No, you don’t have to-" The man started but then stopped himself, seemed to think and then continue with that same heart broken look in his eyes, "Um yes, you can speak.”

“Something is wrong with my programming, sir. I do not-”

He had relived memories before, Zola had liked to play around with it actually. This must be Pierce. Back before.

Where was Pierce?

The mission failed.

What mission?

“Bucky, do you remember meeting me? A few months ago? You saved my life.”

He wasn’t supposed to save lives? Was this a test?

He was going to be punished. They liked these games. He was playing it wrong.

“Captain, sir, I’m sorry to interrupt, but he’s becoming agitated, we don’t think that he- well that he understands where he is- thinks this is Hydra.”

Where did the new person come from? The Soldier hadn’t even noticed them.

“I’m sorry but we need to administer additional sedation,”

The Soldier jerked back in the chair he was attached to, what were they-? There were more people, nothing was moving like it was supposed to- That face.

But I knew him.

Pain overwhelmed his senses, punishment, Pierce said.

There were more hands on him. Voices, too many voices.

Someone was screaming, crying too.

Then cool silent nothingness.

#tw: forced sedation #tw: confusion #bucky #the Soldier #pierce #alexander pierce #james buchanan barnes #Steve Rogers #brain washing #confusion #poor boy keeps getting confused #he's gonna need a lot of help #steve is so sad #forcefully committed #involuntarily admitted

[nerdified]

Procedural Notes: Patient #3 (FKA Hugo Jensen)

NOTE: [At the time of this audio recording, Mr. Hugo Jensen (NKA Norville Nerdlinger) has just begun the process, and is restrained. The identity of the speaker is unknown. This transcript is reproduced here in order to assist with identification of this man, who has since disappeared, absconding with an undisclosed amount of the process agonist. Efforts to locate him have, to date, been fruitless. If anyone knows anything about this man or his whereabouts, please report the information to Central Command.]

[BEGIN TRANSCRIPT]

Quiet, now. It’s no use struggling.

I’m not going to hurt you. Quite the opposite.

I see that look in your eyes, like you don’t think I could hurt you. You’re probably right. I’m not much of a fighter. But I know what you think of me, and other guys like me. I’ve been listening to you on the phone, you know. Hacked your telecommunications. What was it that you called me, on that call with the client yesterday?

Oh, yes, I remember. A walking pocket protector. I’ll admit, that was a new one for me. I’ve had “pencil-neck” and “four-eyes” and the good old-fashioned “nerd” lobbed at me before, but “walking pocket-protector”… Heck, it’s got a little poetry to it!

Shh. I know, it feels strange. It’s a little unsettling, at first, I’ll agree. But you’ll get used to it. It’ll go easier for you if you just relax and quit fighting it. In time, you’ll even begin to like it.

I’m sorry about the gag. Unfortunately, it’s just the beginning of the process, so I have to leave it in for…twenty-three more minutes, at least, if my calculations are correct.

Ha! Who am I kidding – my calculations are always correct.

I can see from your eyes that you hate my guts right now. That, too, will change.

You see, what’s about to happen to you isn’t out of the ordinary, or even very noteworthy. As far as I can tell, it happens to a lot of guys, especially those that zip through their twenties and then hit that speed bump called thirty, bank accounts empty and career opportunities shot. Those of us who didn’t win the genetic lottery couldn’t get by just on our looks and our charisma, like you did.

I remember how it felt when I was in high school, and guys like you were all A+ students and perfect jocks, too… gosh, it’s enough to make me swear.

But no. You couldn’t leave well enough alone. You couldn’t just be a jock, be good at sports, and leave the academics to the rest of us. We didn’t ask for much, you know. We just wanted to be left alone in our science labs, and in our tutorials, in our lives.

There's no escaping guys like you. You’re everywhere, and you’re spreading. For a time, we ignored it. Figured it was some kind of anomaly. But it wasn’t – it was a trend. And despite the fact that we didn’t see it coming, we are now prepared for its end.

Like I mentioned – it won’t surprise most people to see you change. Maybe a few of your close friends will worry about you. Express some concern. But by that point, you’ll already have accepted your new self. You’ll be able to say “This is just who I am,” and it’ll be their choice how to proceed. That’s a side benefit, by the way, of the process. You get to find out who your real friends are – and, spoiler alert: they’re not exactly big football fans.

You have to be prepared for some major shake-up in your life, though. The good thing about the process is that it won’t faze you in the slightest. Everything will be gee-whiz gosh-darn super-duper spiffy keen neat-o, if anyone asks, and for you, it will be.

Now, I know those terms are a little outdated. We’ve had to make a bit of an adjustment to the process in your case. The earlier version wasn’t quite strong enough for you, so we’ve had to over-compensate in a few directions. You won’t just be a little bit nerdy, you know, a couple of odd quirks, some new hobbies. For example, Derek – well, that’s his dead name, he goes by Derwood now – Derwood can sometimes get by in normal society. He even kept a few of his old friends. He’s just more into things like superhero movies, and he’s left behind all knowledge or passion for sports. I think I even saw him reading a comic book the other day, come to think of it.

But that’s not going to be you. Oh, sure, you might develop a taste for superhero movies, but if you do, it won’t just be a passing interest. You’ll become a rabid fan. I believe…obsessive…is the operative word, in fact. Yes, you see, that earlier version of the process would have worn off, and you’d have been back to your old self in no time, which would wreak havoc on your psyche, not to mention put our entire operation in jeopardy. We can’t have that.

It looks like some time has passed, but not quite enough for me to remove the gag yet. Do you feel your perfect white teeth shifting around in your gums, almost impatiently? Nod once for yes.

You don’t have to nod at all, not if you don’t want to. I don’t need you to confirm for me what I can already see happening in your eyes. Speaking of your eyes – how’s your vision? I can see you starting to squint every now and then. Trying to see past that blur? Don’t worry. I’ve already got your glasses, right here, for when it gets too bad for you to see. Talk about your Coke-bottle lenses - my calculations again predict that you’ll settle somewhere around…hm…negative six diopters, which is even worse than mine.

To put it simply: you won’t even be able to read the big E on the eye chart without your glasses on.

I know, you’ve never been to the optometrist in your life. You never needed to. And don’t think about getting contact lenses, either. I mean, go ahead and try, if you really want to embarrass yourself.

Oh, I can see it now: timid, nerdy little guy like you, shuffling into the doctor’s office – you say you want to get contact lenses, and they get you in the back for a fitting. They show you how to do it, you know, hold your eyelids apart and then just plop the lens on there. But you have to do it three times before they’ll let you leave with them, and you won’t even be able to get one in, because you’ll keep blinking it out. I wish I could be there to see it, honestly – you, all frustrated, trying to swear, but only able to say things like “Fudge!” and “Gosh darn it!”

It’ll be so beautiful. I’m getting teary just thinking about it.

I’m glad you’re starting to settle down a bit. Let me know when you need your glasses. Maybe while we wait, I’ll get started on your hair. That trendy fade has got to go, and so does that scruff on your face. At the start, you’ll have to shave a lot, but as the process continues, you’ll start producing more of a 5-alpha reductase enzyme. This will convert your testosterone into dihydrotestosterone, or DHT, which will actually miniaturize your follicles. Kind of like using a shrink ray on them! Oh, and there will be no taking of inhibitors, like finasteride or anything like that – our process contains a potent agonist, with an affinity of 0.25 to 0.5 nM for the human androgen receptor.

It’s all very scientific, I assure you. And with the miniaturization of your follicles, your sebaceous glands will begin to over-produce sebum, which results in – you guessed it! Acne. Pimples. Zits. I know you’ve never had to deal with that before, so I’m just preparing you for it now. Pizza-face, I think the popular nickname is. Get ready for a lot of that.

Let’s see…what else can I tell you.... Gosh, this is kind of like the orientation for a new job, isn’t it? Ah, yes. I know. Speaking of jobs...

Yeah, this is the tough part. It’s all very natural, I assure you. Just like with your friends, your co-workers will come to see you in a different way. I know you have quite a few cutthroat underlings who would eat one another alive to get your corner office, and the moment they sense you’re not as much of a threat as you used to be, they’ll swarm.

I give it two weeks, tops, until you’re gone. If you choose that road. Or you could make it much easier on yourself and resign. You won’t be financially ruined – not with all that new information surging through your brain – you’ll be an asset to the right company, the right department. Maybe IT will take you. Or accounting. Maybe you won’t work corporate. Maybe you’ll work retail.

God, that’s cruel even for me. I wouldn’t wish retail on anyone, even a jerk like you. But there’s no telling what could happen. For all I know, once the process has completed, you could end up one of those Geek Squad guys at Best Buy! Have you seen the uniform they have to wear? It’s company-mandated dress code. You’ve seen them, haven’t you? White, short-sleeve, button-down shirt. Black polyester clip-on necktie; black, pleated trousers; black lace-up shoes…and white socks. Yes, white socks, kept completely spotless and bright. All this is enforced, too, with routine inspections, to make sure you’re being compliant!

You see, there’s really an infinity of possibilities for you. If anything, this is a new chance for you – a fresh start. I know it feels scary, all this change. But change is the only constant. Everything is always in flux. Heck, every seven years, your entire body regenerates – every cell is new and different, so why shouldn’t your personality and identity change, too?

It’s logical, isn’t it? Nod once for yes.

Good! You’re starting to come around, aren’t you? Like I said, it won’t be so bad if you just accept it. If you don’t fight it. That sudden urge to position your tongue up behind your teeth when you say ess. Eth. Eth. How your voice keeps breaking, and in the most unfortunate ways, and at the most unfortunate times – all of this is being etched into your muscle memory as I speak to you.

There isn’t much longer now until I can remove your gag, and I can see that the physical alterations are beginning. Too bad all that hard work at the gym all these years is so easily eroded by our process, but then, those muscles were mostly for show, weren’t they? Well, no longer. It isn’t exactly sarcopenia, but it’s close. You’ll be at least one and a half, possibly two, standard deviations below the relevant population mean, and no amount of exercise will restore your former abilities.

Yes, the ropes are looser now, because you’re much smaller. Rapid onset muscle deterioration. You could struggle out of them. Maybe you could even escape. You could try. But there’s no way you’d make it very far without your glasses. Who would believe you, anyway? What would you even say?

Like I said, you might as well give in. It’s not so bad, once you get used to it. And you’ll have me. I’ll be with you for the whole beginning process, so you can acclimate to your newly nerdy life. You won’t be able to continue living in that luxe apartment you’ve got – no, you’ll be moving into a nice little basement apartment I’ve got fixed up for you, in the suburbs outside the city. The landlords have just got it refurbished, with some nice wood paneling, and there’s a spare twin bed that should be just your size! There’s also tons of room on the walls to put up all your posters. You won’t need much room for anything else, really. You definitely won’t be needing that enormous closet of tailored, fitted button-down shirts, or all those sneakers, definitely not those expensive Under Armour boxer-briefs. What a waste. No, the new you is way more frugal with his money, seeing as he’s paid so little of it. The new you doesn’t even think that much about clothes, or fashion.

This must be a lot to handle. Maybe I should have a little mercy on you.

Tell you what. I’ll let you choose your underwear. How’s that, pal? That make you feel any better? Nod once for yes.

See, I’m not that bad. That’s right. So, here. You can choose…Hanes, or Fruit of the Loom?

Oh, I see. You thought I meant what kind of underwear. Haha, no. You’ll be wearing tighty-whities from now on. Sorry, them’s the rules. Besides, you won’t need much support…down there, if you catch my drift!

Don’t look so horrified. You won’t even notice that it’s gone. Mostly. You’ll still have some length, just, you know, not a lot. You won’t be able to call it a “cock” or a “dick” ever again, either. Oh, look how cute – you’re blushing just hearing me say it! You might call it something else, like your ding-a-ling, or your wiener.

Okay, okay, I can tell you’re getting embarrassed, you’ve gone all red and blotchy in your cheeks. We don’t have to talk about the … “no-no place” anymore, little buddy.

All right. Here’s your glasses. I’ll just set them on your nose, for you…there. Wow, they sure do make your eyes look tiny!

I can tell you’re getting near to the end of the process, and I’m curious to see how big your two front teeth have gotten. From that bump in your upper lip…gosh, it looks like you might be giving Bugs Bunny a run for his money!

You’ve really been behaving better, so I’ll bring you a mirror, okay? So you can see for yourself. I must say, it’s already quite the improvement. I wasn’t expecting your hair to turn so red, or get so curly. Maybe if you can’t get a job at Best Buy, you could run away and join the circus as a clown!

I’m just horsing around with you, pal. Don’t pass out on me. You promise not to scream? I hate it when they scream. Nod once for yes.

You’re a little excited, aren’t you? It’s okay. You can tell me. I bet you get a little more excitable than you used to. Maybe you even get a little clumsy, with the loss of all that hand-eye coordination. Trip over your own two feet and go sprawling.

But who knows. There’s so much potential.

And you’re just the beginning, too. Let’s just say that my proposal for introducing you to the process wasn’t well-received by Central. What do they know? They have this power, and they don’t use it. Well, you snooze, you lose, by golly! If you have a gift, you use it, otherwise it goes to waste.

Anyway. Enough of the supervillain speech. You don’t need to know anything more. It’ll probably be wiped out in the massive crush of nerdy trivia about Star Trek and Star Wars that’s going to download into your brain soon, anyway.

So, this is it. Are you ready to see? Nod once for yes, and I’ll pull the cloth off this mirror here.

Alrighty, dweeb, you asked for it. Here goes.

Say salutations to the new you!

[END TRANSCRIPT]

[starkeristheendgame]

okay so i just got my first ever massage today and holy crap it was so sensual. and i was wondering if you could write something where like tony’s had so many massages in his life that he knows where the best spots are and peter is stressed cus of college or whatever and tony gives him a massage and peter cums just from tony giving him a back massage.

Ooohhh, yes! I’m not one for massages personally because I kinda hate being touched by people I don’t know, especially like that, but I’ve given a few to friends and received a few from past lovers, so I hope this is to your liking! Thank you so so much for the prompt! I added a little dry humping in this, too, because cumming just from a spinal massage seemed a lil too unrealistic.

Super healing was all well and good, but Tony knew well enough that it didn’t mean the absence of pain. He’d been around Steve long enough to know that in some cases, it even amplified it. What was feeling your bones and muscles stretching for each other if not painful?

Watching Peter wince and reach for his lower back for the fourth time since they holed themselves up in the lab, Tony knew the answer. The kid had taken a pretty decent battering on the field - No broken bones, but plenty of taut, aching muscles.

“Hey, kid” Tony called, setting down the holo-pen he was using and motioning for Peter to join him. The boy moved happily but gingerly, overcareful of stretching too much as he bounded over to Tony’s side.

“Yes, Mr. Stark?”

“You doing okay? You’re creaking more than I do”. Tony had just began to come to terms with the fact that his age unfortunately hadn’t slowed down. He was verging on fifty, greying at the temples and finding it harder and harder after each battle. He was by no means unfit, but age was unkind to even superheroes.

“I’m fine, Mr. Stark. Just kinda twinges a little” Peter shrugged, and visibly regretted it. Tony cast the kid a pointed look, and he deflated slightly. “Okay. So...It kinda does suck. But only a little! Like, a day or two and I’ll be fine. Hot baths help, too”.

Tony gave a considering hum and reached up to rub at his jaw. “What about massages?” He asked, and Peter blinked at him.

“What, like...Some stranger rubbing you all over while you wear nothing but a towel?”

Tony huffed a laugh. “I don;t know what porn you’re watching, kid, but the majority of places ask you to wear your underwear or a bathing suit”. Peter went a pretty shade of dusky pink, eyes flitting anywhere but Tony’s face as he died a little inside.

“Uh. Well. No to either. Both! I mean...I’ve never had a massage. Its just a little weird, isn’t it? And expensive” Peter rambled, gesturing meekly. Tony supposed it was a little strange, but he was also not ill-advised of the merits of a skilled masseuse.

“Cm’ere” Tony coaxed, motioning Peter closer. The boy frowned a little, but was mostly curious as he stepped forwards, and Tony grasped him by a lithe shoulder, turning him until the kid was facing away from him, and Tony could see the smooth lines of his back through his shirt.

He reached up and set his hands on Peter’s shoulders, brows furrowing as he carefully felt about the honed muscles. God, but Peter was tense. Not coiled like a spring, but he definitely wasn’t lax as Tony pressed his thumbs gently into the meat of his shoulder. Peter jolted in surprise but visibly forced himself to relax as Tony began to knead at him, and after several moments, let out a soft sound.

“Huh. That’s...Not so bad” Peter admitted, when Tony was digging into the space between his shoulders, paddling out the tension across his spine there. Tony gave a light smile and a hum, to show that he was listening to him.

“You feel like someone just caught you jacking off, kid” he chuckled, and then paused. Perhaps...Not the greatest choice in words, and he hurried to wipe them from immediate existence. “I know you got pretty beat up out there, yesterday. How about I book you in with my guy, huh? You can see him whenever you feel too...Tense”.

“I don’t know, Mr. Stark. I mean, I don’t think I want some stranger feeling me up” Peter replied, but it was quiet, distracted as Tony let his hands dip a little lower, to the point where his spine began to broaden out into shoulderblades, pawing at the meat and bone.

“Have a think about it” Tony urged, thumbs pressing against the dip of Peter’s spinal cord, and the boy gave a muffled, sharp sound. Tony almost, almost paused, but he knew pleasure when he heard it, and continued wordlessly. And he was kind of glad he did, because when he took the selfish opportunity to run his hands down Peter’s spine, the kid truly did feel like he’d been tazed or something.

“Jesus, kid” Tony whuffed, petting gently at the locked up muscles. Peter ducked his head and then looked over his shoulder at Tony, almost shyly. Tony greeted him with a small smile and let his knuckles graze the delicate outline of the boy’s spine, not enough to really do enough except indulge himself.

“Alright, here. Sit on this chair, facing the back” Tony instructed, motioning to his abandoned stool. It had a sloped back, and Peter twisted, moving cautiously but clearly interested to see where this was going to do. He took a moment to psych himself up as he watched Peter splay those toned, lithe thighs around the chair, watched the shirt hug his back when he leaned forwards.

But Tony was nothing if not a pleaser, and he stepped forwards, waggling his fingers and then driving the heels of his palms against the small of his back. Peter made another of those soft little noises, and Tony offered a smirk, brows furrowing as he focused on mapping the lines of Peter’s body, each slope and curve and each battered muscle.

Somewhere along the five minute mark, Peter’s head was lolling and on every other press of Tony’s hands he was uttering pleasured, sighed little sounds. It sang through Tony’s veins, catering to every nurturing and giving atom in his body. Peter was growing laxer by the minute, and yet...

“Hey, kid. If you wanna get the most outta this - And this isn’t a come-on, but you ought to be laying down, and I’ve got a perfectly working bed one floor up” Tony remarked, trying his hardest to word it so it didn’t sound like he was being a leech.

“Mr. Stark?” Peter sounded sleepy, but his voice was a little higher, too, hitched like he was trying to contain himself.

“Not a come-on” Tony hurried to reiterate, hands stilling but not leaving Peter’s body. “Massages are done with you laying down, right? So you’re all relaxed and...Easier to mash up like a potato, I suppose. I can do a little magic like this, but if you want the full effect...”

He was aware of how it all sounded, and he was about to take it all back when Peter shifted, and then nodded.

“Okay. Yeah. Um. Are you sure? I mean, its your bed” Peter uttered, Tony stepping back just in time for him to swing a leg around, standing and then sitting again, so he was facing his mentor. Tony snorted lightly, and eyed him.

“You say that like I’m a wolf and its my den”.

“Well. No. But its kinda...Private, isn’t it? Like, its your space”. And. Well, Tony could understand that. He was, in fact, rather comfortable with having his bedroom as his personal space. Especially with the majority of the Avengers living at the Tower now.

It was his space, yes. Even the rare hook ups he’d managed over the years, he took them to one of the spare rooms. But he wasn’t about to tell Peter that, and he certainly wasn’t going to analyse why he was so comfortable with the idea of Peter not only seeing it, but laying in his bed.

“Its not like you’re gonna be rolling around naked in it, kid”.

And.

This is why he didn’t talk to people. He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, but a shuffle brought his gaze up and he blinked when he found Peter standing, smiling at him almost meekly.

“Okay, Mr. Stark. It’ll be nice to be able to move around properly again”.

Tony opened his mouth, closed it, and turned on his heel. He’d offered; he couldn’t back out of it now. It felt hideously odd to lead the way to his room, his skin prickling and his mind like a box of angry wasps. He was hyper-aware of Peter’s footfalls behind him, light and steady.

The stairs. The penthouse main suite. Up the short steps and along the balcony. And...Right outside his bedroom door. The actual penthouse was nothing new to Peter - The two of them had spent enough time in here, as had the other Avengers, though it was by far not as heavily populated as the ‘main floor’ of the Tower, now dubbed a communal space.

And yet.

Tony pushed open his bedroom door before he could think too deeply about all of this, and swung an arm out with bravado. “Ta-Da! Here it is. My humble abode. Or...The very top part, at least”.

Tony’s bedroom was...Indulgent. His bed was a super king, and then just a little bigger. Black sheets that adorned a mix of silk of teddy fleece, and snowy-fox style fake fur throws. Ample pillows. The decor was minimalistic but a blend of regal and cool, sleek modern. Steel greys and deep blacks. One entire wall gave a one-way view of the cityscape and could be projected into anything he desired.

Besides him, Peter audibly breathed out.

“I know. Pretty lame, right?” Tony could do with more than 6 blankets. And he could definitely do something more creative with the decor. Besides him, Peter looked affronted.

“My bed came from a garage sale”.

“Ah” Tony considered, then gestured. “Go ahead”.

Like a puppy being told it could get on the couch, Peter went bounding towards it, flopping down near the centre with a delighted sound. Tony’s heart did something that defied gravity, and he let Peter squirm about for a moment before clearing his throat.

“Alright, alright. Roll over”. And he was really gonna have to stop with the puppy analogies before he couldn’t walk down the same street as a dog anymore. But Peter co,plied instantly, rolling onto his stomach with a whine of satisfaction, nosing into Tony’s sheets and...And he took the opportunity to adjust himself briefly, cursing the fact his cock had pricked up in mild interest.

“Alright. I’m gonna avoid any ‘deep tissue’ kinda territory, because you’ve never had a massage before”. And Tony knew from personal experience that ‘flying before you could walk’ was not always the best approach. Peter was looking at him again, blinking doefully and entirely too trusting, and Tony gave a light cough before he set a knee down next to Peter’s hip.

He decided on safe territory, and went back to the boys shoulderblades and upper spine, kneading intently and applying more pressure than he had before, know he knew the boy was safely and comfortably relaxed. Beneath him Peter was pliant and soft, eyes closed, arms crossed as a pillow and doing something utterly unforgivable to Tony’s heart.

He let his hands naturally gravitate towards the centre of Peter’s back, pressing at the easy slope of his spine. Beneath him, Peter’s hips hitched, and Tony fought back a smile. Involuntary movements could be hilarious. He pressed the heels of his palms down, thumbs sliding along the gentle ridges of the bone, and Peter heaved out a breath, hips pressing down into the plush bedding.

It was relatively quiet, Tony focusing on his work and Peter reaping the benefits of it with cute little noises. It wasn’t until Peter moaned that Tony realised his hips were inching quite...Rhythmically.

Doing his best not to alter his hand movements, Tony let his gaze zero in on the boy’s hips, watching as they rolled languidly and minutely against his bed. Something feral opened its eyes within him, licking its great, gaping maw. Tony sucked in a sharp breath and let his weight drop a little more, pressing Peter’s hips against the bed.

“O-Oh” Peter stuttered, and Tony couldn’t help a sly grin.

“Good?”

“Mm” Peter breathed, lips parted. Tony watched, rapt and hungry, gravitating to the space between Peter’s hips. He did his best not to make it obvious, the way he manipulated how Peter rutted against his mattress, but before long the boy was shaking and a steady stream of moans were dripping from his tongue.

Peter seemed to catch himself at one point, stiffening, cheeks flushing, but Tony shushed him cheerfully. “Hey, its okay. At least you’re not screaming in agony” he teased, and Peter giggled, relaxing again.

“I’m sorry. Its just...Its good? I mean, it hurts a little sometimes. But it feels really nice”.

He wanted, so badly in that moment, to make Peter feel even better. To drive his hips down against the bedding until he came. It was possessive and greedy, and he tried to fight it even as Peter’s sweet, high little moans filled his ears.

“Its okay” he repeated, quieter. “How does...Do you feel any better?” He asked, keeping his voice light. Below him, Peter nodded, paused, and squirmed.

“I do, yeah. Tonnes, but...I mean, I’m still a little stiff? In the middle. Maybe...Maybe the muscle is too tight? Or its not the right angle?”

Something twisted within him, warping and bending until it snapped, and he was parting his lips before he could even muster the self-control to murder the thought. “I could...Its not common. For obvious reasons. And feel no obligation to agree, but I could change the angle? Just means kinda...Sitting. On your legs. A little”.

And...Fuck. He wanted to claw the words back in, especially when Peter’s breathing hitched and he whimpered, but...Fuck. Was the kid nodding? The kid was nodding.

“Okay. Yeah. Just...For the...Benefits” Peter near whispered. Tony stared at the back of his head for a little while longer, tracing the spirals of his curls before he sucked in a breath. Right.

“Right” he affirmed, and after a moment, he brought his other leg up, so, so carefully over the other side of Peter. He aimed it close to his knee, so that when he truly shuffled across he wasn’t quite reverse-straddling the teenager. The angle actually was better, because he could pay closer attention to the alignment of his back and the muscle layout.

And now that he had better access, he began to knead at the boy in earnest, drawing soft little ‘uh’s on each press that went straight, unfortunately, to his dick.He couldn’t help the thought that this was quite possibly what the kid sounded like, stroking himself to orgasm in secret, late at night in his room.

“O-Oh. That’s...Yeah, Mr. Stark” the boy half-moaned, shaky and almost surprised, like he hadn’t ever expected it to feel this good.

Tony’s own hips nudged forwards, irregardless of his own permission, until he was all but three inches away from grinding against the teen like a...Well. Like a teen. Tony remembered all those youthful days of rutting against his partners like a dog in heat, the teasing friction that layers of clothing offered.

“Can you...Could you go lower? Like, the bottom of my spine? It feels...tight” Peter sounded hesitant, but more in the way that he typically was when asking anything of Tony. It was still fresh on Tony’s mind that it had taken the kid almost a month of being at the Tower to even ask for a drink.

“Yeah, kid. Okay” Tony agreed easily, surprised at how little his voice strained or wavered. He shuffled on his knees to adjust his balance and lowered the placement of his hands, watching Peter’s spine bow under his touch, hips sliding in an arc against his bed.

The short little hitches had Tony tipping forwards without even really registering it, and when a shuffle from Peter had Tony’s hips just barely grazing his ass, they both paused. Tony was about to open his mouth when Peter relaxed again, fingers flexing then twisting in the bedsheets, and he wordlessly continued.

The squirming increased. The moans grew bolder, less held back. Subtle nudges became flat out grinds into Tony’s luxurious sheets, and each torturous movement nudged them together in bare touches.

One particularly heavy press of Tony’s palms had Peter letting out an honest to god whine, hips pushing back against his hips instead of down against the bed, and Tony breathed out heavy, thumbs digging into his muscles. “Good?” He rasped, and Peter whimpered below him, fisting the sheets tightly and grinding back again.

“Peter...”

“I’m sorry. It just...Your hands. The bed” Peter heaved, burying his face into his arms to hide his shame. Tony found himself squeezing Peter’s hips, swallowing thickly as he looked down to see where they were connected, the jut of his hips flush against that plump, round ass he’d been doing his best not to look at for the past fifteen minutes.

“Its okay” he was speaking before he could even think about it, fingers flexing reassuringly in their perfect, fitting hold before he ran his hand down Peter’s spine, pet at his flank. “Happens to the best of us. Just...Don’t ruin my sheets”.

God. What was he saying? This is why Pepper didn’t let him do things. Or meet people anymore. Beneath him Peter’s little body hitched and he turned his head slightly, blinking back at Tony with wide, vulnerable eyes.

“Wha-?”

“Just relax” Tony cut him off, hands drifting to resume his work on that tight little knot at the base of his spine. It looked like Peter was going to protest, but then he lolled his head back into the duvet, nuzzling it with a low groan.

“M-Mr. Stark” the boy dragged out, trembling just ever so slightly under his hold as Tony drove his hips down against the bedding, and pulled them back up against his hips, where his own cock had begun to swell into a thick rise.

“You’re...Hard” Peter squeaked, and Tony ground his teeth, thumbing at a stiff slope of muscle.

“Yeah” he agreed quietly, and was surprised when Peter’s hips drove back against him. His breath stuttered in his lungs and he folded over slightly, gripping at Peter’s hips as a spark of pleasure jumped through his pelvis.

He fucked forwards against it without thinking, pressing down on Peter’s bowed spine, drawing a moan from both of them. “How close are you?” He ground out, rolling his hips languidly to ride the slope of Peter’s firm ass. Beneath him the boy whimpered and rolled his hips in response.

“Close”.

“That the skill of my hands, or the durability of my bedding?” Tony couldn’t help teasing, and Peter shuddered beneath him, head shaking slightly as he refused to answer. Tony couldn’t even feel affronted - He knew the pleasure of good bedding and sturdy mattress.

They began to move together in earnest, rutting with single-minded intent like Tony was eighteen and driven by his cock all over again (he might not be eighteen now, but the latter still largely applies). Tony braced himself, thighs tensed and body arched over Peter’s, riding his ass like it was all he was born to do even as he kept working on Peter’s spine, digging into the meat and bone until one of Peter’s arms bent backwards, searching.

Their fingers interlocked and Tony moved his arm forwards, bringing Peter’s hand back to a more comfortable position as the signs the boy was getting closer to completion became more apparent. Tony’s own pleasure was coiling through his body, taut like a spring about to release. He felt flushed, heady, cock hot and desperate.

“Mr. Stark!” It was pitched, a half-yelp, and then Peter’s body was jerking beneath him, arching and locking up, torn between fucking forwards and pressing back against Tony’s cock as the boy shuddered through his orgasm, coaxed through it by Tony’s hand on the centre of his back, pressing him down into the mattress.

Peter cums with the most breathtaking sound. A moan warped into a cry, shaking and rich with pleasure and emotion. Has the bite heightened everything? Peter’s senses are always so sharp, so raw. How did an orgasm feel, when even the sound of your own breathing could overwhelm you?

When the kid finally, finally slumps down beneath him, still pinned - allowing himself to be pinned - Tony can’t bring himself to chase his own, heat and guilt fighting an equal war in his gut.

“How do you feel?” He bit out, forcing himself to let up some of the weight. Peter had only consented to Tony making him feel good. And even then...Had it really been consent? He kind of felt like the guilt was winning out of the heat.

“I feel good” Peter breathed, head turned to blink at him lazily, sated. “Really good. I feel...Loose”.

The lecherous smirk is dazzling before he can stop it, palm sliding down the gentle slope of Peter’s spine the settle dead centre on that inviting, round ass, thumb pressing just a fraction into the dip of his cheeks, towards a wet, hot heat Tony knows awaits.

“Want to feel even looser?”

#fanfic #starker #starker fanfiction #starker fanfic #starker fic #starker smut #starker drabble #starker prompt #starker prompt fill #starker request #ironspider #ironspider fanfiction #ironspider fanfic #ironspider fic #ironspider smut #ironspider request #ironspider prompt #sie fics

[yoonjinkooked]

CHEMISTRY | Run (2)

PART 2 - RUN

SERIES MASTERLIST

DRABBLE SERIES, TONS OF SHORT LITTLE CHAPTERS. WILL BE UPDATED OFTEN CAUSE HOSEOK IS THE #1 SOURCE OF MY PAIN

Pairing: Hoseok / Reader

Rating: 18+

Genre: FWB, university AU

Warnings: cursing, avoiding emotions and responsibility, future smut, Hoseok just makes a cameo in this one

Word count for this part: 2K

Summary: After a few years of being immune to Jung Hoseok’s charms, you suddenly fall into them, head first. All it takes is one night, too much alcohol and a lot of balls.

“Rise and shine, you drunk idiot,” are the words with which Seokjin greets you. The massive headache that you are suffering makes his voice sound 20 times louder than it really is, which is not your favorite way of starting hangover Sundays. Despite knowing that he won’t be deterred from waking you up, you still keep your eyes closed, hoping that today is a day of miracles and Seokjin decides to give you a break. He doesn’t - instead he grabs a hold of the ankle of your left foot and starts shaking it left to right, trying to shake you awake. “Come on, you’ve been out the whole day, I was scared you were dead. Get your ass up, take an aspirin and be an adult.”

“That sounds like a plan,” your voice is worn out, a tell-tale sign that you had spent last night yelling into someone’s ear. “God, why did you let me drink this much? You should have forced water down my throat,” you grunt as you struggle to get yourself into a seated position - you don’t fall back and the room is not spinning. So far, so good. 

“Oh, I was planning on doing that,” Seokjin grins down at you, not looking the least bit hungover - genes, he’d tell you with a proud look on his face. “But by the time I returned from the kitchen, you already had Hoseok’s tongue down your throat.”

And then, you remember. Boy oh boy, do you remember. Seokjin laughs at you, amused by your expression as realization sets in. You’ve hooked up with Hoseok. You’ve made out with Hoseok. And you did, in fact, sit on his dick, just like you’ve wanted to. Luckily for you, you were both fully clothed. Seriously, lucky you - if you remember anything in detail, it’s that you weren’t alone. 

“Everyone saw us last night, didn’t they?” you ask, sighing when Seokjin nods immediately. 

“Everyone. I mean, you were hardly being shy about it, jumping his bones in the middle of the living room,” Seokjin reminds you how straightforward, perhaps even pushy, you were with Hoseok. Both before and after the kissing had started. “For what it’s worth, he wasn’t complaining.”

“I have no idea what had gotten into me,” you admit, trying to recall when, if ever, you’ve thought of Hoseok as more than a friend. And you did not - he was always a friend, that good looking friend that you wouldn’t even consider as a possible hook up option. Your brain had short-circuited last night, and although surprising, it isn’t completely unfounded. 

“Well, Hoseok did not, I can assure you,” Seokjin is laughing his ass, his expression softening a bit when he notices just how uncomfortable you are with his teasing. “Come on Y/N, don’t overthink this. You’re both single and hot. You were horny and he was stoned and happy to help. Making out with him once won’t change your friendship, if that’s what you’re thinking.” 

“Yeah, in theory,” you mumble, knowing already that the next time you see Hoseok, you will feel very awkward. Maybe he won’t and that saves the day? It’s a possibility, but you’re not almighty and situations like these tend to turn you into an awkward mess of a person. 

“You’ve made out with Jimin before and you’re still close,” Seokjin shrugs. 

“Yeah, but that’s different. That’s Jimin. We did it jokingly, more than anything else,” you shake your head, knowing, remembering  that whatever last night was, it was different. “I have no clue what happened. One second he was there, dancing, minding his own business and the next I just… had this strong urge to kiss him.”

“Well, at least you’re a go-getter,” Seokjin laughs at your glare, still refusing to accept this as a possible issue in the making. “Come on, I didn’t walk all the way to your place for therapy hour. You’re nursing a hangover and we need coffee. When you have enough caffeine in your system, you’ll remember that Hobi is the chillest guy on the planet and that your worries are completely baseless. It can be awkward for a week or two but you’re both grown adults, right?”

“Right,” you agree, choosing to hold onto that thought. You’re not kids or horny teens - it’ll be okay. A few inside jokes, a couple of days of awkwardness and a lifetime of teasing from your mutual friends - nothing you can’t handle. No harm, no foul. It’ll all be hilarious in a week or two. 

“You’re acting weird,” Jungkook’s statement makes you freeze, the breakfast burrito in your hands inches away from your mouth. After years of being friends with him, it shouldn’t be a surprise when Jungkook says the most random things at the most random times, but somehow, it still is. 

“No, I’m not,” you deny. 

“You are,” Jungkook nods, as if he is confirming it with himself. “You’re all jumpy. If I didn’t know you any better, I’d think you’re on the run from the law,” he laughs at his own joke, before suddenly stopping to fix you with a suspicious look. “You’re not on the run, right?” 

“No Jungkook, I’m not hiding from the cops. I’m not even halfway through my first coffee.”

“She’s just hiding from Hobi.”

You glare at Namjoon from across the table. First of all, his assumption is rude. Second of all, it is absolutely correct. Well, you weren’t exactly actively avoiding Hoseok, but you also weren’t volunteering to spend time at places where you knew he’d be. Instead, you have spent the past few days occupying yourself with random and not so random tasks and obligations, all while trying not to think about how he’s a good kisser. Or how good he smells. Or how firmly his hands gripped your waist that night. Nope. Not going to think about it. 

“Why would she hide from Hobi?” Jungkook is confused. 

“I’m not hiding from Hobi,” you tell him, before turning to give Namjoon a pointed look. “I’m not hiding from Hobi,” you repeat in a warning tone - it’s clear that you don’t want to talk about it. 

“Perfect,” Namjoon offers you an angelic smile. “Then you won’t have a problem with him joining us? I mean, he’s already walking our way,” he adds, looking over your shoulder. 

Your knee jerk reaction is very literal - a sudden movement leads to a loud bang, a whine and you clutching onto your right knee that you’ve just hit against the table in a lame attempt of making a run for it. Panicked, you turn around to check if Hoseok had seen this, only to realize that he is nowhere to be seen. The shit eating grin on Namjoon’s face when you look back at him is confirmation enough. “I hate you,” you deadpan as he keeps on laughing at you. 

“Why are you like this,” Jungkook asks you as you rub your knee, still very much in pain. “Is it because you made out last weekend?” he interrogates you before chugging on his yogurt. 

“Maybe,” you reluctantly admit, since you were so obvious there was no use in denying it. “I know it doesn’t make much sense but it’s just… weird.” 

“You’re being overdramatic, as usual,” Namjoon chuckles. In moments like these, you wonder why you’re still friends with the guy. Sure, he can be charming, nice and helpful, but he can also be a smartass and act all high and mighty, just like he is doing now. “Not that you would know, since you’re hiding from the guy, but Hoseok is not avoiding you. The situation isn’t weird - you are.” 

“If I wanted therapy, I’d pay for a professional,” you snap. 

“I’m on Y/N’s side here,” Jungkook pauses to swallow his food before continuing. “We can tease and joke, we always do that but we shouldn’t invalidate her feelings. If she is feeling awkward, she has every right to feel that way. Don’t invalidate her feelings, Joon,” he ends his speech with a little worried pout, making himself look at least 5 years younger. 

“Have you been watching Dr. Phil again?” Namjoon asks him. 

“Hey!” you jump in Jungkook’s defense immediately. “Don’t be an ass - he has a point and he is being nice. I didn’t ask for your opinion, which you generously offered anyways. Hoseok’s feelings about this have no affect on me - I’m feeling awkward and I’d rather push said awkwardness under the rug for the time being.” 

“Unlike Mr. Smarty Pants Architect who actually does watch Dr. Phil, I’m the only psych major sitting at this table,” Jungkook starts and you laugh at the not so subtle drag directed at Joon. “It’s my duty as your friend and a future therapist to say that the tactic you’re turning to is not healthy and will likely cause more trouble. But,” he emphasizes, noticing that you have already opened your mouth to complain. “It’s your choice. You know what you’re doing and why you’re doing it.”

“Oh, so you’re saying that her acting like the two of them have divorced after 20 years of marriage instead of… exchanging saliva is valid?”

“Stop!” you glare at Namjoon. “You’ve heard Jungkook – my feelings are valid.”

“You’re a coward and you know it,” Namjoon laughs at you. He’s not completely wrong – you are a coward, but you also have your reasons. “You were making out – it’s not the end of the world.” 

“Yes, but it’s not a random dude we’re talking about here!  It’s... Hoseok!” you whisper his name, as if someone other than the two of them could actually hear you say his name in the crowded and incredibly noisy university cafeteria. 

“All the more,” Joon widens his arms in exasperation. “Hobi is not an ass. He’s not going to make it worse, he’ll probably laugh about it, but seeing as you’ve been playing hide and seek, you won’t have a chance to. The longer you wait, the harder it will be once you can no longer avoid him. And honestly, the time is around the corner because I have no idea how you plan on skipping Yoongi’s birthday party.”

As if you needed a reminder of that. There is no way in hell that you can make up an excuse big enough to avoid going to Yoongi’s party - a family emergency wouldn’t work, not when this is your closest group of friends. You’ll have to be there, Hoseok will absolutely be there and you have three whole days to get your shit together. 

“I’ll do my shit at my own time,” you conclude proudly, knowing that you will figure it out and it won’t be because of Namjoon’s impromptu intervention. 

“Um… Y/N,” Jungkook lets out a nervous laughter. “I’m not so sure about that. Hobi’s walking towards us, right now.”

“I’m not falling for that again,” you wave your hand in dismissal, the pain that you are still feeling in your right knee reminding you of Joon’s failed attempts to trick you. 

“He’s really not lying,” Namjoon sips on his coffee sassily, the slurping sound coming from his straw making you want to throw something at him. But there’s something about the cocky look on his face that makes you realize that he’s not joking this time. Not to mention that Jungkook, unlike Joon, is an actual sweetheart of a person who would not lie to you just to spite you. Gulping, you decide to risk and check. 

And sure enough, as you turn around you can see Hoseok just a few tables away, smiling at the three of you – ripped jeans, white shirt, green snapback and that stupid, blinding smile. For a second, only for a second, your eyes meet and before either one of you can make a face or react in any way, you are standing up and this time around, your knees are safe. 

“I have to go,” you grab your bag and phone and speed walk before anyone can tell you anything. You can hear Jungkook yell after you, but you’re already a few tables away from them, walking towards safety as fast as you can. 

Was it stupid? Yeah, probably. Was it obvious? Painfully. But fight or flight kicked in and up up and away you went. 

#jhope smut #hoseok smut #jhope fanfic #hoseok fanfic #jhope drabble #hoseok drabble #bts au #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts scenario #hoseok fwb #hobi fwb #hobi smut #jhope scenarios #jhope au #hoseok x reader #hoseok x oc

[come-on-shitty-boys]

// fatherhood headcannons //

Characters: Kozume Kenma / Akaashi Keiji / Oikawa Tooru

Request: Heyyy merry xmas (if you celebrate it) can I request kenma fatherhood hcs I saw you other ones before and it was so cute (and maybe him having a daughter )

Warnings: some swearing

Word Count: 1.8K (~550 a piece)

Notes: bokuto with stretch marks. That’s all. That’s the note.

Kozume Kenma:

Oof how to put this nicely . . . 

He was terrible. Absolute t r a s h during the pregnancy.  And it wasn’t on purpose.  He wasn’t just sitting there purposefully dismissing your aches and hormone-induced cries.  Kenma just didn’t know that it was actually a big deal.  He didn’t know that you were genuinely in serious amounts of discomfort.

You would say that your back was hurting and he’d be like, “yeah, mine too.”  Which is v a l i d.  He has videos to edit, so he spends a lot of time hunched over his desk, but you’re also carrying a child. H I S C H I L D so he could stand to be a little more sympathetic.

Morning sickness? He’s not about to be there to hold your hair back.  He’s still fast asleep.  Probably didn’t even know that you weren’t feeling well.  Kenma isn’t a total jerk about it.  He does care about you! I need to make that clear.  He does care.  He’ll ask you if you’re feeling better when you mention that you were sick earlier that day, ask if you need anything from the store, etc etc.

It’s really more or less the fact that he’s going to be a dad in less than nine months hasn’t fully set in??  He knows that you’re pregnant.  He’s been there for the ultrasounds.  He’s heard the heartbeat.  He knows that there will be a baby, but it’s like his brain hasn’t processed that it’s his baby yet.

And it doesn’t fully hit him until you wake him up in the night, hitting his shoulder frantically, saying that something doesn’t feel right and in his sleepy haze he can only think to ask-

“Is the baby okay?”

bitch i don’t know that’s the problem 

But he’s out of bed faster than you are, practically shoving shoes on your feet to get you out the door and into the car. pspsps there was no problem just l a b o r

Kenma didn’t cry when the baby arrived, honestly he didn’t even make any moves to hold his little girl when you offered her out to him.  He was just so in awe?  He couldn’t believe what he was seeing.  She was so tiny and he was so scared that he might break her if he tried to hold her.

It takes him awhile to settle into the whole fatherhood thing, but once he gets it, he gets it.  He becomes some kind of expert multitasker.  He’s got the guys on discord through his headset, heating up formula, daughter strapped to his chest with one of those baby holders, ready to get back to gaming with his little girl right there.

She makes a few guest appearances during his streams, because she’ll start crying, wanting attention or to be fed, which brings him to sitting at his desk, bouncing his baby on his lap, continuing on with his stream like it’s the most normal thing in the world, watching as his chat blows up with people obsessing over how cute his daughter is.

Akaashi Keiji

I’m sure this a shock to everyone, but Akaashi is fucking clueless.  He was an only child and his best friend is the youngest?  He never really had to think about babies before.

He tries to research, but he gets so caught up in, ‘Is this a credible source? Can I trust what they’re telling me?’ that he learns absolutely nothing.  Like he knows all of the actual science behind what’s happening, but he has no idea how to take care of a baby.  What kind of diapers are the best?  Should you breastfeed or would formula be the better option?  How quickly should you be trying to teach them things like speech or walking?

Lucky for Akaashi, when his female co-workers, especially the ones who were mothers themselves, found out the exciting news that Akaashi was expecting a baby with you they were giving him every piece of advice under the sun.  “You need to establish a sleep routine!  It’ll take a while, but the baby will get it eventually!” “I know they say that you shouldn’t run to your baby every single time they cry, but that’s actually really harmful for their psyche in the long run.” “Make sure to play lots of classical music, especially early on.  It helps with development!”

When it comes to you, he’s pretty hit or miss?  He’s observant! Absolutely! But, he’s not really sure how to help you when you’re feeling insecure about your body or scared that you’re not going to be a good parent.  He can tell you that you’re beautiful or that everything will be okay, but it never fails to make the situation worse because, “You’re my husband.  You have to say that.”

The hormones.  They do be throwing hands with him smh

Akaashi spent the entire last two months of your pregnancy baby proofing the entire house.  If you wanted a glass of milk, it took you nearly 10 minutes.  You know he means well, but he definitely went a little overboard.

He used to give your forehead a kiss every morning before he left for work, but now Keiji will lean in to kiss your forehead before squatting down to place a kiss on your stomach

He also helps you get ready in the morning.  Your range of motion definitely isn’t what it used to be now that you have a baby bump, so he’s more than willing to help you tie your shoes or hook your bra if you need him to.

PANICKED BOY DURING DELIVERY

Everything that he was told just left his brain and he suddenly forgot everything that he had been told.  He was holding onto your hand just as tightly as you were holding onto his, but he’s trying his best for your sake.

But the first moment that he sees his little baby all swaddled up in that blanket, you swear that you’ve never seen Akaashi’s eyes so wide and his face so blank.  It’s like you could see the gears turning in his head, trying to process everything that just happened.  

He’s absolutely silent.  He doesn’t say a single word or make any noise when he finally has the opportunity to hold his son for the first time.  He can do nothing but stare.  It’s really a sight to see.  The two best things in your life just staring at one another with absolute wonder.

Akaashi takes his baby’s development very seriously.  He wants his son to be just as smart as the both of you some day, so he takes it upon himself to read to his son before every single nap.  

Poor Keiji has read Green Eggs and Ham more times than he would like to admit.

Oikawa Tooru

Now listen. I know we all want to give him shit, but my god is he the only one who knows what the hell is going on 

He has a sister who has been through this whole pregnancy thing at least once. He’s not helpless.  He knows how to take care of a kid.  Oikawa Tooru can rock a baby to sleep faster than you can say Seijoh.  He’s just that good.

Tooru bought you the ugliest pair of sneakers when your feet started to swell and your other sneakers started to get uncomfy, but god damn they were the best pair of shoes that you ever put on your feet.  Well, that he put on your feet.  It’s kind of difficult to put shoes on when there’s a uh . . . big ol’ bump in the way.

He frequently talks to your stomach in Spanish and has already given the little bean a nickname to match the Spanish one he gave you.  He also hums little songs while he rubs your stomach ugh lots of sweet vibes from oikawa

And it’s literally because his sister sent him P A R A G R A P H S just to tell him how to take care of you while you were pregnant.  All of these little things that he never would have thought of like getting one of those grabber things so you didn’t have to bend over so much or keeping snacks and anything you could possibly be craving on a low shelf so you didn’t hurt yourself climbing for the bag of pretzels.

While Tooru loves you and would do anything for you, he absolutely refuses to rub your feet.  Do not even bother asking.  He will turn up his nose and look at you like you’ve lost your mind.

He’s always telling his teammates about you and how big you’ve gotten, what size his little baby is, what names he was thinking about.  Ah it’s so cute.  He invites some of them over to help him put together the nursery, asking them if they prefer the elephants or the bears?  Should they choose yellow or maybe a nice grey?

When it came to the actual delivery of the baby, he was so calm???  Like?? Unnervingly calm?  He just held your hand, running his other hand over your head, pushing your hair back, reminding you to breathe just like he had practiced with you, telling you that you’re doing so well, that it will all be over and worth it soon.

And it really was.  Seeing his face light up with the most adoring smile that you had ever seen as he took his little one into his arms was one of the most beautiful sights you had ever seen.  He was absolutely in love and all it took was one little look and he was already cooing and making silly faces.

But those goofy faces and cute voices were just to mask the tears that had welled in his eyes at finally being able to hold the most beautiful thing on the planet.  He never thought he’d get to be a dad, settling down was something that had always seemed so distant and strange to him until he met you.  And yet, here he was.  A full-fledged dad, on the verge of sobbing as he held onto his first-born as if his entire universe would crumble if he looked away for even a second.

Please don’t even get me started on when his kiddo wrapped their hand around his finger.  SOBBED.  He’s gone.  Absolutely bawling his eyes out.

Ugh i could go on forever about dad!oikawa he’d just be so 10/10

{taglist: @moncymonce​ @nicka-nell​ @lovinnoya​ @celosiiaa​ @ush7jima​ @deephasoceanmagic​}

#haikyuu #haikyuu!! #haikyuu x reader #kenma #oikawa #akaashi #kenma kozume #kenma x reader #akaashi keiji #akaashi x reader #oikawa tooru #oikawa x reader #x reader

[ilooklikeaburntchickenugget]

Holiday Dates (Pt. 1)

 A/N: So I got this idea at like 1 am, and here I am writing it. I know it’s not even really the Christmas season next, but I thought this mini series would be cute for the holidays. So here goes nothing! Pairing: Teen!Gerard x Teen!F!Reader Word count: 2587 Warnings: A few curse words

School projects in general were a pain in your ass. Having to go and work with someone or a group of people on a topic you’re not even interested in, and then present it like your entire career depends on it. Nothing about that was appealing.

So walking into your AP psychology class a week before your two week Christmas break, only for your teacher to announce a partner project would be due the day before break made you mentally punch your desk. “To make this a little more interesting,” Mr. Young began, the tall, black haired man grabbing an old, clear container. “I’ve placed all your names into this jar, and I’ll just draw a few. It’ll present an element of surprise.” He smiled, clearly excited even though no one else was. You rolled your eyes through the pain.

He shook the jar quite violently, as if to emphasize that this would truly be random. One by one, he stuck his hand in, pulling out two small sliver of papers, announcing your peers names. A few grudges, shrugs, and even celebratory cheers erupted depending on the individual’s opinions toward whomever they were paired with.

“Y/N Y/L/N,” He called out, you looking up. As much as you hated it, you admitted the small rush of adrenaline in anticipation for who you would be paired with gave a little excitement. “Gerard Way.” He stated, placing the two pieces to the side.

Gerard Way? You had heard of him. He was the shy, nerdy, smart boy. Okay, well, this should be easy. He should know everything in psych, you’ll help him create a project, and bam. There’s your A. A few more names were called before your teacher finally dismissed you from your seats, to go talk with your partners, get a game play.

You got up, grabbing your backpack and phone, looking around until you found the stark black haired boy. He was looking up to you with a light smile, which you returned as you walked to him. You had never payed much attention to him, but his mess of a head of hair, hazel eyes, and smile were adorable. If you were being honest. You took a seat next to him.

“I’m Gerard.” He smiled to you.

“I’m Y/N.” You smiled back. Okay, maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. A smart boy and a sight to look at? Perfect.

“Yeah, I- I know.” He stuttered, immediately regretting that, “Sorry, that was weird.” He lightly laughed at his own mistake.

“It’s alright.” You admitted, pulling out your notebook and pens. “So, any idea for what we should do this on?” You asked next. “Well,” He sighed, turning to you in his desk, “I was thinking something along the lines of adolescent psychology? There’s a lot we can do there. Or social psych, that’s interesting too.” He began, “But it’s whatever you want to do, really.” He smiled again.

“I think social psych would be cool.” You looked back at him, from where you were scanning your notes, “I’ll go tell Mr. Young, as long as that’s fine with you.” “Yeah, of course.” He smiled, going back to his own notes as you got up, walking to the front of the room.

“Hey, Mr. Young.” You walked up to the man, “Gerard and I want to sign up to cover social psych.” “Great.” He said, typing it into a word document, “Hey Y/N,” He began before you could walk away. “Be nice to Gerard if you would. He’s a smart kid, gets used a lot for his academics. Just, treat him like a human, alright?” “Yeah, of course Mr. Young.” You smiled at him, wondering what he exactly meant.

“I knew I could trust you with that, Y/N.” He smiled back, as you walked back to your seat next to the boy.

“We could start with the basics,” He spoke up, “You know, personality and all that stuff like that.” You nodded.

“Sounds great.”

“So if we look at attributions,” He began, “The Fundamental Attribution Error may be the best place to start.” “Agreed,” You stated, “So that’s a person’s tendency to associate what someone has done with an internal cause, not an external one based on the situation?” “Right,” he looked at you, “So, like, if someone is driving, and someone else cuts them off, and they call them an asshole,” You lightly laughed, and he smiled, “That would be the fundamental attribution error. Because maybe, in reality, that person could be late to work, or late to pick their kid up from school. I mean they could be an asshole, but we don’t know that.” You giggled again. “Yeah,” You concluded, “But an attribution would be like me saying you’re funny, based off of what you just said. So I can properly attribute that a characteristic of you is you’re funny.” He smiled, a light red coming to his cheeks.

“I, mean,” he stumbled, “y-yeah I suppose.” Then the bell rang.

“Hey, by the way,” You began, “Could I get your number, to text you for when we need to meet?” “Yeah, of course.” He smiled again. You handed him your phone, and he typed in his number and name, handing it back. “Thanks, Gerard.” “Yeah, of course. Bye Y/N.” You walked out a few moments later, walking to your locker where you began putting your stuff away. You walked into the cafeteria, sitting at the table with all your friends.

“Hey, Y/N.” Everyone smiled and you smiled back, “How are you?” Jason, one of the boys on the football team who you just happened to hang out with asked.

“Alright,” You admitted, sipping on your water, “Mr. Young assigned us a project in AP psych.” You sighed.

“Who with?” Shanna asked, another one of the girls you hung out with. “Gerard Way.” You stated and everyone began laughing under their breaths, “What?” You asked next.

“Nerdy, smart one?” You nodded, “At least you won’t have to do work.” Jason scoffed.

“I’m still going to do the work,” You said, “It’s a partner project. Besides, he’s really nice and funny.” He rolled his eyes.

“He’s weird, Y/N.” “No he’s not.” You fought back, “Besides, judging people you don’t even know does nothing good for anyone or anything. Other than your fragile ego.” Everyone oohed, as you looked up at him. “Fine,” he sighed, “I won’t say anything else.” Besides being friends with some of the most popular, and worst people in school, you hated bullies. The idea of hurting someone for something they can’t control, or for being who they are made you infuriated.

Your classes went by, one by one for the rest of the day. They were of course boring, not much intriguing or interesting in any one. You eventually grabbed all of your things, placing them into your bag, and walking out and through the doors back into the crowded streets of New York. Going down only a few blocks, you reached the Subway where you hopped on, went for only three stops, and finally arrived at your stop in Midtown.

Your family’s apartment was great for what it was. A three bedroom in a usual sky rise. It even had a second floor, something not all that common in New York. You shut your door to your bedroom, your parents nor your younger brother were home yet. Placing in your earbuds, you grabbed your laptop and homework, trying to get most of it done so you could have some down time.

Absorbed within your chemistry work, you got a sudden ding. Showing the screen of your phone, you saw a little text bubble, Gerard’s name on the top. “Hey Y/N! It’s Gerard, I was wondering what days would work best for you to work on the project? You could come over to my place, as long as you feel comfortable. Everyday this week works for me.” It read.

You smiled as you opened up your phone, heading straight to the messages app, and responding. “Tomorrow works! Right after school?” You sent, a little three dotted message bubble showing he was typing popping up immediately after. “Sounds great :)” He finished. You placed your phone back down, playing some more of your music and continuing your homework.

Finally submitting all your assignments, you closed your laptop and walked downstairs to find your mom working at the kitchen table. “Hey, sweetheart.” She lightly smiled at you.

“Hey mom.” You smiled back, going to grab a snack from the pantry.

“How was your day at school?” “Good.” You sighed.

“Good.” She responded.

“By the way, I have to go to a friend’s house tomorrow to do a project for AP psych with.” “Alright.” She responded, still writing a few things down, “Sounds great.”

-Time skip-

“Hey, Y/N.” Gerard waved walking up to your locker after school.

“Hey,” You responded and smiled, “Just a minute, I just need to finish putting my stuff away.” “Yeah, of course, take your time.” You finished stuffing your various collection of textbooks and overfilled binders in your backpack, zipping it up and throwing it over your shoulder. “Ready?” He asked and you nodded.

The two of you walked out into the streets, as you followed Gerard down only a few blocks and to a large sky rise in lower Manhattan, near the financial district, where your school was. The two of you walked through the large glass doors, through the marble lobby, and into the elevators where he pressed 68. It was pretty silent as you rode your way up, and once the box dinged, you two got out and walked through a long hallway, down to the last door, where Gerard put his key in, jingled a bit, and let the two of you in.

The apartment was large, and gorgeous. Nothing like you had ever seen. It was also expensive, you knew by just looking at it. Everything was so large, large windows the scaled floor to ceiling that overlooked New York. You were in a trance by the beauty of it all. “You like it?” You heard Gerard behind you. You nodded.

“Uh, yeah,” You said, trying to pretend everything was normal, “It’s really cool.” He lightly smiled.

“Thanks.” He responded, “Do you want anything to drink, by the way? Water, tea, coffee?” “A water would be great, thank you.” You looked back. He smiled again, going to the fridge and grabbing two bottles, handing one to you and keeping one for himself. “Thanks.” “No problem.” He looked up, “Do you mind working in my room? If you don’t feel comfortable I get it I-” “No, it’s completely fine.” You reassured him, glad to see the respect he held. He led the two of you through a few various large hallways and into his room, in the corner of the apartment.

The room was huge, the two out of four walls that weren’t huge windows were covered with various posters of Star Wars, Marvel heroes, even Watchmen. Your mouth opened slightly in awe, all of it was just too cool. And stuff that you liked.

“It’s really nerdy I know.” He stated awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“No, it’s awesome.” You lightly laughed.

“R-really?” He stuttered, looking to you with wide eyes.

“Well yeah, I mean, who wouldn’t think it is?” He shrugged.

“You just seemed like a girl who-” “Would be into nail polish and shopping and gossiping about boys. Yeah, I know.” You sat down on his bed. “But, to tell you a secret, I fucking love Star Wars. And Marvel.” You smiled.

“Really?” He asked again, sitting next to you.

“Yeah, my younger brother and dad loved them before I did, but I stated to tag along to see Marvel movies and would watch Star Wars with them at home. And I fell in love with it.”

“That’s cool,” He said, “I’ve always just liked them.” You nodded. There were a few moments of awkward silence, “Should we get started.” You nodded.

“We probably should.” The two of you went through your bags, grabbing your binders designated to the class.

“So why don’t we go with positive and negative reactions to social interactions?” You nodded, and he continued, “So, do you have any ideas for positive or negative reactions?” “Sure,” You began, “If you tell someone they’re smart, that would be a positive reaction.”

“Great,” He wrote it down, “Or giving someone else money would be a positive reaction.” “Yeah,” You said thinking for a moment. You noticed Gerard looked at you for a moment, seemingly studying your facial features while you pretended to look away, focusing on another example.

“We could try some examples now.” “Great,” You turned to him a little more. “So, Gerard,” You began, as he placed his notebook and pencil down. “I like your hair.” You said and he lightly smiled.

“Thanks,” He said, “You have pretty eyes.” He said next.

“Thanks.” You could feel yourself blush as you smiled.

“You are a super cool guy, and you have an awesome personality.” You said next. He took a pause.

“Do you mean that?” He asked, stopping himself only a moment later, “Never mind, that was stupid, these are just examples.”

“No, I do mean it.” You said, with a confused look. “You really are pretty cool.” He looked even more shocked.

“You’re just saying that to be nice I-” “I’m saying it because it’s true, Gerard.” You stated. It was only silent for a few more seconds.

“Well um,” He began, “You’re absolutely gorgeous.” You looked at him for a brief moment, making sure your ears were reliable at the moment. He noticed your stare, “That was creepy, wasn’t it? I’m so sorry-” “No, no, that was really sweet.” You lightly blushed and looked away before laughing. “Great, now you’re making me shy!” You smiled like a fool at him.

“Well you said something truthful, so I did too.” “Y-you meant that?” You asked next and he nodded.

“Yeah, I mean, did you not know that?” He asked as if it were obvious. You shook your head.

“I mean, my mom calls me beautiful and all but that’s different.” “I thought you knew, I mean, I’m surprised you haven’t been picked up by a model agency yet. You’re absolutely stunning.” He smiled.

“I um, I-” You paused, “That’s too much.” He shook his head.

“Do you know how many guys would like to call you theirs?” He asked next, you shook your head again, “Literally every single one in our grade.” You shook your head again with a smile.

“Oh please.” “What? I’m for real here.” He smiled, “Literally any guy would be lucky to have you as a girlfriend.” You nudged him playfully. “Well I can say the same for you. But a boyfriend, of course.” You lightly giggled and he chuckled.

“I mean, if you say so.” He grabbed his notebook and pencil again, “By the way,” He began, “I, um, this is going to sound so weird, but would you like to go on a date maybe? Like somewhere? If you say no I completely get it I just thought it was worth a shot-” “I would love to,” You smiled. “Let’s finish this real quick, and then I’ll send you my house address. How about Friday, after school? After our big presentation, ya know?” “Yeah, sounds great.” He said, smiling bigger than before and looking between you and the page. “It’s a date.”

#gerard way x reader #gerard way #my chemical romance #mcr #mcr gerard #my chem #my chemical gee #my chemical gerard #my chemical romance x reader #gerard way fanfiction

[the-reaper-of-maidens]

Shadow Walk

Coming in FAST with that quality Lady Di x OC ONCE AGAIN~ The Reaper’s dark magic abilities are slowly starting to take shape, and it’s up to Alcina to teach her the ropes. I hope I explained how this ability works well enough... And yes, more soft Alcina ksksksk TW: abuse mention

Some headcanons: the daughters have different abilities, but that might change when the game comes out and we find out more. c: I’m also gonna assume dark magic is a thing in this game, since Daniela can do spooky dark magic stuff in the demo.

Viorica is the oldest daughter, and Aurelia is the youngest. Pointless, since they’re only mentioned in this story, but... still!

“Now, with any new ability, you have to practice it and hone it, my dear Reaper,” Alcina swirled a wine glass, finishing off the last of it. “Once you get this down, shadow walking is a powerful skill.”

“Makes sense, I wasn’t an all star tennis player after one day,” the Reaper finished off her own drink, a HarSha black tea with honey and blood. She rolled her shoulders back and tossed her leather jacket to the side to make things easier.

“How did it feel, the first time you walked into the shadows?” the castle’s mistress asked as she set her wine glass down, trying to pinpoint the issues to help her hound dog improve.

“Crushing, like I turned flat as paper and it was hard to breathe, so I panicked and clawed my way out,” the Reaper explained, shuddering at the memory.

“Not surprised, the first time in the shadow realm is always… terrifying. It’s exactly why I cleared out my entire day: to teach you how to better utilize shadow walking. The very first step is to relax. Loosen up. Take a breath before you step into the shadows and breathe in and out… in and out slowly and evenly,” Alcina advised. “The second step is do not be afraid. Don’t let the dark and fear get to you, my pet, because that’s a fast ticket to stay stuck in the shadow realm.”

“So… just relax and don’t get scared. Sounds easy enough.”

“But do not underestimate its difficulty. It’s far easier said than done, O Reaper Mine,” the lady of the castle strongly warned. “It’s far more dangerous shadow walking unprepared than it is to astral project prepared.”

“Typical dark magic stuff, everything has a risk when it comes to that,” and with that, the Reaper took a few breaths to psych herself up, slowly stepping into a nice little corner rife with darkness by the throne. She normally hid away in this spot, anyways, in case Alcina wanted her at the ready to dispose of someone who was being a bother.

“Just focus on entering and exiting for now, Reaper. Don’t let the branching paths within the shadow realm distract you,” the mutant vampiress nodded, watching her little hunter ease into things. “Hmm,” she poured herself another glass of wine as she watched. For now, she didn’t feel the need to take a stroll in the shadow realm with her, as the Reaper needed to get used to being alone in the shadow realm first.

“Okay, don’t get distracted…” the Reaper repeated to herself as she went in. The shadow realm was, as Alcina said, terrifying the first time. The shadow realm was full of a person’s darkest fears and most painful memories, which was why the gargantuan woman stressed the importance of keeping calm. “...Don’t…” she swallowed nervously as she saw the eerie specters of her birth family in the voidscape, all eyes on her as if casting judgment on her, “get distracted…” She remembered her mistress’s words and decided to dip out before the shadows would try to drag her in. She stepped back out into the mortal world, slashing her way out as she panted heavily, shaking off the dark tendrils that still clung onto her arms.

“Breathe, Reaper,” the vampiress reminded her hound dog, watching her take a breather as she sat down against a wall. Alcina stood up to give the Reaper some encouraging words. “Don’t be surprised if you fail many times. I have experienced it many times myself when I was learning,” she knelt down to her hunter’s level.

“...You? Failure?” the Reaper was surprised, to say the least. To her, Alcina Dimitrescu, the lady of the castle, was the epitome of grace and perfection. How could she have possibly failed at anything?

“Mother Miranda taught me all I needed to know when my own abilities started manifesting. If it makes you feel any better… I saw slayers in the void, doing unspeakable acts on the servants of the castle. My fears actually became even worse when my daughters went under my protection,” Alcina admitted. “It’s horrific, is it not, to see your constant fears being personified in the shadows? That paralyzing grip… you can’t let your fears win, Reaper. If you do, they’ll drag you away, never to be seen again. It’s a fate worse than death, my dear.”

“Wow… I didn’t think you feared anything,” the Reaper admitted. “...Makes my own feel stupid. I saw my birth family, judging me. I was scared because I saw Pop again… I was scared he’d try to hit me. I was scared Ma would try to manipulate me to go back home. And my little bro? Tch. Less said, the better.”

“Shhh, your pain isn’t lesser than mine just because you think it is. Slayers are a rare occurrence. You went through torture every day. Those are not the same, Reaper. Even my own childhood pains can’t be compared to yours.”

The Reaper reached out for Alcina’s hand and gently squeezed it, nodding a bit. “I know… it’s just hard for me to realize that. Just… gimme a minute and I’ll be ready to face my trauma and fears again, Lady Alcina.” She liked it when Alcina was soft, it was a rather rare side of the mistress only she, besides the sisters, got to see.

“Of course. It’s never easy the first few times. I don’t expect you to suddenly get over years of abuse the second time you enter the shadow realm,” the lady of the castle was understanding, or more lenient than she would usually be, at least.

The Reaper took a few breaths, trying to compose herself in a few minutes. “I’m kinda curious… do your daughters have similar abilities?”

“Not quite. Past their strength and speed, it seems like they have different powers. Aurelia, for example, doesn’t swarm into moths like Daniela can. She can shapeshift, though. Viorica is excellent at using magic compared to the other two, so she much prefers hands-off fighting,” Alcina explained.

Soon enough, the Reaper was ready for another round. “I got this. Those specters won’t get to me…” she relaxed as she went into the shadows again. Naturally, she was still a bit tense seeing those laughing phantoms, but she stood tall (well, as tall as could be for 4’9”). She turned tail only once the one depicting her father stepped forward, fist raised. “Sorry… it’s Pop. He’s the big hangup, it seems,” the Reaper sighed.

“You did say he gave you some of your scars… I’m not surprised. We’ll take it one day at a time, Reaper,” Alcina nodded. “Once you get past your little hurdle and get used to being alone in there, I will join you in the shadow realm to show you how to navigate. It can be… difficult, due to how fluid shadows can be.”

“I think I get what you mean, it all depends on the angle of light, and that can drastically change the shadow it casts.”

“...Exactly, my dear. It’s another reason traversing the shadow realm is more dangerous than the astral plane. Unless you have furniture that you never move, your starting point might not even be there when you get back, so you can’t rely on that. Just be ready to end up in a different spot in the castle when we do that,” Alcina gave her hunter a heads up.

For now, though, the Reaper needn’t worry. She just focused on getting used to the horrors of the voidscape, bit by bit every day. “Okay, I think I’m mostly okay now, Lady Alcina. Realizing that they’re only phantoms helped me out a lot… they can’t hurt me,” she confided after months of simple practice, just shifting between mortal plane and shadow realm.

“Good,” Alcina nodded in approval. “That will be your armor, my Reaper.”

“We just need a big enough shadow for you to walk into, but luckily… we got one right here, if you don’t mind bending down a bit,” the Reaper smacked the wall nearest to her. It was evening, so the sun cast some decent shadows on some of the objects. The petite hunter learned during her training that she needed a shadow big enough to enter (if she couldn’t get into it crawling, it was too small, she found), that she couldn’t go into shadows with many holes, and that she obviously couldn’t go into her own shadow.

“I wonder where we’ll end up tonight,” Alcina giggled charmingly as she took off her hat and set it down somewhere, which sent shivers down the Reaper’s spine.

Oooh, maybe it’ll be our room, the Reaper was flushed behind her bandana as she followed the countess into the shadow realm. Of course, with Alcina by her side, she wasn’t scared of these shadowy wisps tormenting her for who she loved, and with her at Alcina’s… the countess was reassured that slayers wouldn’t dare enter Castle Dimitrescu.

“Eyes up, my pet, the branching paths have subtle cues to clue you in where they lead you to. Blink and you’ll miss it,” Alcina patted her hunter’s head. She squinted, noting a vague blob resembling a table. “I believe… this one leads to the dining hall,” she led the Reaper through the twists and turns, and out they came, stepping out from next to a cabinet. “It can be dreadfully difficult to ascertain where the path will lead,” the mutant sighed. “I’m glad we didn’t pop up from underneath the table this time.”

“...It’s happened before?”

“...I don’t want to talk about it,” Alcina pursed her lips in embarrassment at that memory. Hell, even to this day, it still happened on occasion. “Now, let’s keep going in your training, my darling hunter. Just follow my lead, and you might get rewarded nicely~”

#lady dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu x oc #abuse ment //

[willowaudreykeyes]

Okay: I’ve watched it 4 times and here’s the things about the episode that I find interesting. Or that I’m looking too much into. You guys can all decide because idk.

- Roman seems to make alliterations when he's shocked? He's done it before, but now he's done it again and when he's surprised that Thomas 'lied' or 'tricked' the ticket person.

- Virgil has resting disappointed face even as he eats popcorn.

- Roman is very dramatic about the age thing. "He's in his thirties, he may as well be in his sixties." "Can't think of new excuses quick enough in his old age."

- "I love you" is very big words. Do not use them, or forget them, lightly around Virgil.

- Have they always been on his back so much about lying, or was it only after Janus was introduced?

- Possibility: Romans eyes actually change into hearts when cute guy appears?

- Also: Roman goes into Shakespearean when cute guy appears.

- Roman is so optimistic when it comes to love! But not about other Sides? He's rather pessimistic when it came to Virge (at the beginning) and Janus. And kinda Remus too.

- Roman has used "We don't know if he's not gay" more times then the three can count.

- Pins equals introverts way of talking apparently. I guess that makes sense, since there’s pins for almost every kind of hobby, and Virgil knows this too.

- Roman sounds rather happy when they found out that Nico likes Paramore. Supporting his emo friend and his hobbies right there.

- “The Nightmare Before Christmas” is and will always be a Prinxiety thing. Did you see those star eyes Roman gave? And how happy-surprised Virge was?

- Virgil does think about romance too. “You can live like Jack and Sally, if you want.” Kind of cute.

- Virgil has eyes like a damn hawk. He saw those pins and went full on x10 zoom on them.

- Roman’s got some adorable music happening when more clues appear.

- Sticker/Button System must be followed or Virge no happy.

- Roman is almost as good as Patton with puns, except he has to explain it. Has he done that before? I feel like he has. I feel like this is a thing but I’m not sure.

- Roman and Virgil have about the same wavelength when it came to the creepy stalking-ish part. They both cringe when Thomas goes off to the side.

- If you use a word at the end of a sentence that sounds like a name at Roman, he thinks you got his name wrong. He did it at some other point I can’t remember when but he does this. Kind of feels like a autism and/or ADHD trait? (I know I for sure get confused sometimes)

- “Great... he’s gay” “Great indeed...” “GREAT INDEED” I love them. Just gonna say that again.

- Roman has this big thing about his name and it doesn’t seem like its a thing he’s faking? He seems genuinely confused. The one that’s two above mentions it, and the way he spelt it at the trial? And how he seemed very defensive when Janus spelt it wrong? This is a thing.

- Virgil is a self-proclaimed expert of anti-social etiquette and I say he deserves that title. 

- Virgil also really likes non-verbal ways of communicating. 

- Roman does the thing where you put your two pointer fingers together and its adorable.

- Fast head nod of agreement coming from Roman here. Over dramticness? Or actual quirk?

- Roman very much freaks out when flirting goes wrong. Not just a Virgil thing. 

- Virgil be scaring Thomas with zero regrets when he lost his test that the Universe gave him.

- Virgil be very glad to admit when he’s panicking. He also has admitted when he’s anxious in the past. He knows it, acknowledges it, makes Thomas and the others deal with it because dealing with it isn’t in the job description.

- Roman’s fine with compromise! Virgil gives an idea that attempts to help the romance part, Roman’s not 100% happy but rolls with it. Besties right here (even if they don’t know it). He does have a limit though.

- Nicknames are forever with Roman.

- Virgil is on Thomas’ left side, the more ‘thinky’ side of the brain. Roman is on the right, the more ‘feely’ side of the brain. It’s kind of more obvious in the scene where they grab Thomas a lot.

- Roman really slips with his feelings when he’s stressed. He says stuff that’s usually more about his self-worth. “You’re making a mistake.” “If I am, I’ll add it to the list.” That was said under a lot of stress and frustration. He’s done it before and he’s done it again; except now they don’t address it and it’s just a passing sentence.

- pLaNt

- Virgil would rather embarrass Thomas by making him talk to a stranger, instead of the guy that he thinks is cute? I mean, its very embarrassing by the end of it and Virge barely seems affected by it.

- And now Virgil is compromising. He works with Roman to make sure that Thomas looks okay (the “check your teeth” line).

- idk wtf the sty’s thing is about. Weirdly placed anxiety over it? Or something?

- Roman is very impulsive and basically throws Thomas into the trash can when a bad thing happens in front of a lot of people. Ego was definitely hurt there. Why hide instead of run away? Did Virgil sorta influence that?

- Plans help anxiety. Pretty sure they’ve covered that topic before, but lets just do a recap in this I guess.

- Virgil is half the people on this platform “Cyberstalking... but real life”. I mean, everyone makes a metaphor that has an actual word behind it sometimes. 

- “Try Speaking from the heart” ... I expected Patton, but there has been moments before where a Side who is expected to be there, isn’t there. Logan showed this in “Moving On” when he physically left but he never REALLY left. Patton showing up to add his own words to this may have been too much for him? Or he thought it would be for the others?

- Ah crap here’s the monologue-

- First off, it’s very honest. Full on honesty. With no holding back. And it really hit the feels; but is it realistic though? (Genuinely asking I’ve never been in that kind of situation)

- Very rambly too “I honestly don’t know what I’m doing at the mall today. I don’t know what I was looking for... I guess that answers my question- The mall is where you go when you want something but you don’t know what it is because the mall has everything.” Very rambly, very nervous, very honest.

- Roman and Virgil are very... in awe? Shocked? What is this? Roman looks so contemplative as he looks at himself in the mirror and I wanna be in his brain and know what he’s thinking.

- “I don’t know a lot about anything. Least of all, myself.” Okay, Janus just pulled all the way away for a full minute and forty-eight seconds (this is 99% accurate) to just let Thomas talk and feel didn’t he? This is just complete honesty.

- Anyone would be awkward with the guy coming out of that stall. I’m awkward thinking about it and seeing it again. Moving on-

- “I gotta stop wooing strangers in bathrooms” just a 3000 word fic of at least one other time that he’s done this and I will be yours forever

- Virgil is a dramatic emo who dislikes lying. Crossed arms, waiting outside for him, looks up when he says “you know what I meant”- They’re all part of an actor your at least a LITTLE dramatic.

- Virgil has a big thing about lies and relationships. This has to do with him and Janus’ relationship somehow- It’s about Thomas’ relationships with friends and his romantic life too. He didn’t seem as annoyed about them in the ‘Lies’ song way back when which didn’t mention lying about any type of relationship.

- “Can’t have true love if the relationship isn’t built on truth.” Is this what he was thinking about in the bathroom? Its a cute line either way. 

- Okay, Roman and Janus have some kind of... something. Cause a lot of Roman’s talks about his goals for Thomas pushes Thomas into relying on Janus until Roman realises that it’s morally bad OR (as seen in the talk after the bathroom scene) when he realises that it’ll be bad for Thomas in the long run.

- “Will (D)deceit continue to be the answer to all of your problems? Is that fair to him?” HIM WHO!? Janus or Nico!? Both!? AHHHH! This could mean so much in any direction you throw it but I can’t find the dang words!! “No, he’s better off without me.” This could just be Thomas misunderstanding the ‘him’ Virgil means too or he does understand idk-

- “I was afraid you left!” *INSERT TWO SIDES SCREAMING HERE* Hahaha he’s literally screaming on the inside omg-

- “He fears things too!?” Virgil doesn’t understand how people work when he’s worked up. Duly noted.

- Roman and Virgil equals A Gay Panic

- Thomas’ first thought when panicked is to ask the guy, that he thinks is cute and has been trying to get the attention of for the last while, ‘what is wrong with you?’ ... 10/10 Thomathy

-  .Roman seems... a little resigned that another ‘chance at happiness’ is walking away? I mean, he’s super sad but resigned to his fate. That’s sad as hell. He’s USED TO THIS and I don’t like that 😢

- Virgil’s scene where he looks between, NOT Thomas, but Nico and Roman, is really well done and filled with... a lot. He psyches himself up first of, taking in quick breaths before pushing Thomas, obviously afraid but still doing it anyway. And the look he gives a very resigned Roman looks like its both guilt and sadness. Could just be me thinking that he has a ‘this is my fault’ thing.

- Full on surprise on Roman’s face when Virgil pushes Thomas. No one was expecting that.

- Carrots. The carrots brought them together. Thomas... you don’t have to eat carrots, but at least say ONCE that they aren’t all bad.

- “I like songs” you’ve also written some and sung x5 as many but okay, go with that I guess. (Is this to not brag about being a singer right away? I guess so?)

- If Nico was writing about something that happened midway through his visit to the food court, what was he writing about before that? Did he have nothing until Thomas tripped over the bin?

- “I tend to waste a lot of opportunities in my life” Then cuts to Virgil. Ouch. Direct hit on Virge...

- BRAVERY. (i’ll get back to this-)

- “Shut up, emo.” No complicated nicknames; just the easy picking. Very cute. Very yes. Roman your a sap and its great.

- When Thomas is telling Roman to ‘get out’, he sinks down and is he biting his thumb? He’s still excited. And I’m adding ‘biting’ to his list of stims.

- Virgil claps his hands.  Roman and Virgil both cover their mouths. Both yell. Manic hand movements. Virgil gets Thomas to walks around and flappy hands. (And the nervous pee too I guess?)

- OKAY. EYESHADOW. Big thing, also new. I believe that it may be him ‘growing’ as a Side. First, he believed that he was JUST Thomas’ anxiety. Then comes to term with being more then that, which helps him become a ‘Light Side’. And now, he’s learnt that ‘fear’ and ‘bravery’ can both be present at the same time and is now growing from that as well. So, his back and forth between black and purple could mean a back and forth of the ‘fear’ and ‘bravery’ aspects. Thomas about to send a bad tweet? Black. Optimistic about things ‘never being the same again’? Purple. Thomas bringing up that they just met? Black. Its a promising start? Purple again.  Purple when something optimistic, its purple. Pessimistic, its black. There’s a thing happening there.

- And also, lots of smiley Virgil when he goes purple. Brave enough to smile? Or optimistic enough to be truly happy about it?

- “Join me! No thinking!” Okay, all the ‘Roman Himbo’ stans have already gone nuts over this so I’ll keep going XD

- Roman’s first date idea is to go to France immediately and I love him for being so honestly over-the-top

- Dogs are the demons of anxiety its now a fact. They even bring out the Tempest Tongue, despite hearing the dog “thirty times a day”.

- Do not tell Virgil to relax. Black eyeshadow. Very on brand tbh. He does not relax and you should know this by now Roman.

All in all; I love them and the entire episode ❤️ 🧡 💛 💚 💙 💜

#ts spoilers #sanders sides spoilers #sanders asides spoilers #roman sanders #virgil sanders #roman headcanons #virgil headcanons #i guess? #tw caps #willowkeyes for reference #willowkeyes rants #*throws at Tumblr* imma go rb art now

[gothic-safari-clown]

The Mind’s Power Over the Body

Part 16: Round Two?

Story summary: They only ever had each other. It had been that way since high school, ever since Elianna transferred to dreary Arlen and took Jonathan under her wing. They go separate ways for college, and when they're reunited at Arkham Asylum professionally, Elianna comes to find that they've both changed during their time separated. Can she look past the promise of danger and stay by Jonathan's side as they slide further and further into the darkness while she grapples to come to terms with the truth about herself? Can she accept what needs to be done in order to hold onto the only person who holds any meaning in her life? This is a very self-indulgent AU that draws from several different canons of the DCU and ignoring others, starting in the Batman Begins Nolanverse. This will follow the plot of the movie, although the timeline has been very slightly tweaked.

Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five / Part Six / Part Seven / Part Eight / Part Nine / Part Ten / Part Eleven / Part Twelve / Part Thirteen / Part Fourteen / Part Fifteen 

Word count: 1559

El had been right about her mysterious savior in that his interference grew to be something that could be quite a nuisance to them. It wasn't long after Jonathan's meeting with Falcone that he had returned with a new, tricked out getup. Rumors around town had confirmed that it was the same man and seemed to solidify the vigilante theory.

Gadgets or not, the pair had yet to see the effects of the toxin on the caped crusader. Jonathan had come home that night composed as always, but she had recognized the troubled look in his eyes. Between that and the attack on Falcone, it seemed that whoever was having little trouble sniffing out their plot.

"What's the bad news?" She sighed, putting down the book she had been reading. Jonathan just shook his head in response, loosening his tie.

"The bad news-" he sighed, rubbing his hand down his face, "is that Rachel Dawes is still alive, and rumors are that she has some leverage over the judge that Falcone paid off for the organization."

"Oh, shit," El put her forehead in her palm. After all of the traction that the so-called 'Batman' had gained so quickly, the last thing she had expected was to hear that the meddling DA was still around. "Well, wait, the bad news? Does that mean there's good news too?" She lifted her head again, relieved to see him nod.

"That microwave emitter that I told you about, for the final stage, it came in, it's all ready to go. If-" he cut off the look of excitement on El's face, "we can prevent the DA's office from throwing another wrench in."

"Jonathan, don't worry about that." She rolled her eyes and stood from the couch. "They have leverage on the DA, not Falcone's staff at the shipyard, and before they can build a case, they need to have proof that we even have it."

"If they get a warrant-"

"Then the boys at the docks will take care of it, that's what I'm trying to say. Now, will you relax? Everything is going to be fine. We have the machine, and we have more than enough of the toxin."

Jonathan was still leaning back slightly against the table, pinching the bridge of his nose. Elianna sighed, silently cursing her friend's perfectionist nature, and moved his hand away from his face and replaced it with her own hands on either cheek.

"Can you just once relax and appreciate your own work? Do you need a cigarette?"

"No, I don't need a cigarette; they're disgusting. I need to find a way to foolproof this damn thing."

"It is disgusting, it's absolutely revolting, but I think it'll bring you into the present and give you at least a couple minutes to step away from being you." She patted his cheek and nudged him toward the fire escape window.

"From being me?"

"Yeah. Let's not be you right now. Let's be me instead, and be proud of your work." Jonathan rolled his eyes but went along with her.

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to stop thinking for a minute.

You'll listen to her and not me? I'm very hurt, Jonny. You don't share a body with her.

Standing outside smoking, leaning against the rail, the pair stared out at the city before them.

"Look at that. It's disgusting. You should have come to California with me when you had the chance." Elianna teased and elbowed Jonathan lightly. He responded by exhaling slowly and giving a look that said 'maybe.' "Okay, look; you're still not being me, you're not here. Look out there," she pointed with her cigarette. "Gotham is falling apart, and if I remember correctly, it has been for decades. What you are doing with this project will end all of that once and for all. This city is a stain, and you're cleaning it out, once and for all."

A long pause hung between them as Jonathan let his friend's words sink in. She was right, and for the first time since the beginning of the whole plot, he felt a sense of pride for his contribution. Ultimately, this was for the greater good, and he would be the one to pull the trigger on it.

Pride was quickly replaced with a relaxed contentedness, and Jonathan took another drag, almost enjoying the taste.

"Actually," he began, "I think now we are cleaning it out. Give yourself some credit." He turned El's little speech back on her and watched as she floundered.

"Well, I—I haven't really done anything, I'm just sort of here, and honestly, I should have gone back to my apartment ages ago-"

"There isn't really any point now; there are only two weeks before we start." El nodded and returned her gaze to the skyline.

"I'm sorry for being in your space for so long. I really didn't mean to be here still." She turned her head to look at Jonathan.

"I already told you, I like having you around." El's eyes widened at the genuine admission. "Besides, if someone were to come after you, I'd rather you not be alone. I think we both know how that usually ends up by now." He finished with a grim smile, and the redhead nodded in agreement. Everything seemed to come back to the late Granny Keeny.

Remembering the painful and dangerous situation in which her friend was brought up made her sad, and she moved closer to rest her head on his shoulder. "I'm just glad I could help. I know I give you a hard time, but I love you very much." El told him matter-of-factly, planted a kiss on his arm before returning her head to his shoulder, and took a drag off the stick between her fingers.

Jonathan found himself glad that she couldn't see his face, as her words caused his eyes to shut of their own accord. Even Scarecrow's filthy encouragements were drowned out as he privately reveled in El's affection. The insecure teenager still inside of him reminded him that whatever she said was meant platonically, but he allowed himself a quiet moment to pretend.

Connecting with people had never been his strong suit, and that fact had continued to hold into adulthood. But being around Elianna every day again for the first time in years served to remind him of the benefits of personal relationships. Even so, it frustrated him to no end that he had yet to figure out whether his attraction to his friend was based on the comfort of her presence or something else.

Even thinking about it made him tired. Slowly, almost tentatively, his head rested on hers. In response, her free arm wrapped around his to keep him there.

Unbeknownst to Jonathan, Elianna was facing a similar dilemma. It was a debate she had been having with herself since she had moved to Gotham, and as much as she wanted to convince herself finally to take the chance, now was most certainly not the time. Besides...

"It's Saturday."

"Yes, it is."

"You said that we were going to dose me again; we were supposed to do that last night."

The moment broke, and Jonathan let out a long-suffering sigh. "Alright, if you're so eager," he extinguished his half-smoked cigarette and tossed it down onto the ground below with El following suit.

Once back inside, the pair both went automatically to prepare for the ordeal. As Elianna settled onto the bed, Jonathan spoke again.

"You know you don't have to do this again. We were already going to get you a gas mask like the one I have."

"I know." She replied simply, and with a Look, Jonathan began fastening the restraints.

"May I ask why you want to do this so badly?" There was a silence as the redhead pondered her answer.

While some of her motivation came from the perspective of 'just in case of an accident,' she was reluctant to admit the real reason: that once the toxin wore off, the flooding of endorphins left her exhilarated and wanting more. That the rush of surviving something traumatic and harrowing, even just an assault on her psyche, left her feeling powerful, if somewhat exhausted.

Despite her reluctance, Jonathan seemed to know the answer already.

"The thrill of making it through?" El couldn't help the short laugh that escaped.

"I guess that sounds kinda crazy." Jonathan shook his head.

"Not at all. I went through the same thing." He assured as he finished fastening all of the restraints and retrieved the old belt from the dresser where it had been left. "Just remember," he continued as he placed it between her teeth, "that I am going to be here the entire time, alright?" Before he could think about the action, he laid his hand against her cheek comfortingly. Reading her expression, he nodded, "I promise."

El nodded and took a deep breath through her nose to prepare herself, staring at the ceiling before nodding firmly. With that, Jonathan wiped the injection site clean with an alcohol swab and carefully stuck the prepared needle into her vein, and pushed in the plunger.

#the mind's power over the body #Jonathan Crane #scarecrow #Nolanverse #batman begins #Elianna Montgomery #jonathan crane x ofc #slight au #multi chapter fic #scarecrow fanfic #fanfiction #Attraction To The Insane #atti #cillian murphy #cillian murphy scarecrow #tmpotb chapter 16

[cheswirls]

you won't remember / i won't forget  [ 2/2 ]

sabo shivers where he stands as ace digs for his house key. he’s in a long-sleeve shirt and ace’s red coat, but it’s snowing, and they had walked slow to get here after sabo nearly tripped on a patch of ice.

a ting greets sabo’s ears, and ace finally slots the key into the lock, pulling him and the door in. it’s not near as cold inside as it is out, and sabo stands there a moment to bask in the warmth, his breaths no longer visible in the air. 

their place is very small. there’s one door that sabo suspects leads to a bathroom, and a nook that breaks the squareness of the space to house a kitchenette. ace is quick to sit sabo down on the futon and replace the damp coat with a soft blanket. he pulls his jacket off and sighs as he drapes it over a hanger. “do you want anything to eat?” he asks, wandering back over.

“everything,” sabo answers.

ace looks more amused with this response than anything, stopping short. “you’re that hungry?”

“no.” sabo shakes his head. “i want to try everything. i haven’t had anything but hospital food for months. i want to know what real food tastes like.”

ace snorts. “right,” he says, but he’s already moving to the cabinets.

sabo takes a small paper plate and samples everything he’s given. corn chips, pickles, jerky. “salty,” he keeps repeating, like he can’t believe it. ace has a hard time not laughing at the sight. he does laugh when sabo tries a red pepper and makes a face as he crunches on it.

“not that one,” he says between breaths. 

“not that one,” sabo echoes in a mutter.

-

ace walks him to cognitive therapy. it’s warmer out, without the snow on the ground, though still cold enough for them both to be bundled up the best they could be. ace ties sabo’s blue scarf for him, then throws his own coat over the blond’s shoulders. he tugs it off before sabo heads inside, though, and this is how he knows to say ace walked him there, and not, oh, ace dropped me off, but he’ll be back later.

sabo comes out two hours later tired and exhausted and tired again with nothing to show for it. ace is waiting for him on the steps. sabo thinks about berating him for staying so long in the cold, but he walks into ace’s arms instead, held in his embrace while he tries to calm his aching heart.

“it’s going to take some time,” ace murmurs, right by his ear. “if it even works at all.”

sabo doesn’t want to hear that. he presses himself further into ace. “give me the coat,” he mumbles, and ace complies.

-

sabo learns how to organize his thoughts and retain information and seek out the feelings, but he makes no progress recovering his memories. he feels drained every time he leaves a session, having spent hours tracking movements and listening to sounds and even letting his mind be hypnotized, at one point. nothing is working.

he tells his caseworker this, one day, when asked how he felt about his progress.

“do you want to quit?” he had asked.

sabo has yet to give him an answer.

-

sabo showers late one night and throws back on the same shirt he’d worn before. the floor is cold, so he puts the same socks on his feet. it’s dark in their room, so after closing the bathroom door, he wanders over to flick on the small light above the stove, give the space a little ambiance. 

he sits on the futon and gathers a blanket around his form, folding his legs up and leaning against the wall. he could go to sleep. he should go to sleep. he knows this, but it’s so quiet, and he doesn’t want to be alone with his thoughts. he wants ace to come home.

he wants ace.

sabo waits for a long time. he’s hardly awake when the door opens, head slumped against his arms, and he doesn’t rise when it closes again. 

“hey,” ace says, voice quiet. 

sabo shifts his face up and attempts to blow the hair from his eyes. it falls right back into place. “how was work?”

“work is fine. how are you?” 

“tired.”

“i didn’t think you’d be awake,” ace admits, sitting in front of sabo.

sabo glances down. “yet you bought flowers,” he mumbles.

ace glances down, too, smiling at the bouquet. “well, maybe i had a suspicion. mostly i had an idea.”

sabo raises a brow. “i’m listening,” he says, moving his legs down. ace sets the daisies in his lap and reaches to push one of sabo’s sleeves up, turning his arm forward. sabo blinks rapidly but lets him do it, only growing more curious as he pulls a stem from the bunch and holds one of the daisies near the scar tissue.

“pretty, right?” ace murmurs, pressing the white petals to his skin. “what about a tattoo?”

“of flowers?” sabo says blandly.

ace shrugs. “why not? you could get a whole line of them, right up your arm. i’m not saying it has to be now, it definitely can’t be right now, but i know someone i’d trust to do it in the future, if you want.”

sabo takes the daisy in one hand and slips his other hand into ace’s. he holds the flower to his face and sniffs, and his expression softens as he clings to ace’s cold fingers. “i’ll think about it,” he promises. 

ace rubs his thumb over the back of sabo’s hand and gives him the rest of the flowers. sabo sets them all to the side in favor of pulling ace close, until he’s knelt before him, and his knees are on either side of ace’s waist. he reaches up to grab ace’s face and bring him close, all while his mind repeats the same question, do you want to quit, over and over and over again.

nothing was guaranteed to work. he knew this. but he owed it to ace to keep trying. that’s what he kept telling himself, and yet here he was, falling apart for something that was only a chance. at some point he had to start being selfish, put himself first.

he doesn’t even notice he’s crying until ace pulls back and reaches up to wipe a tear from the corner of his eye. sabo blinks, and his face is wet, and ace leans back further, his gaze questioning.

“are you okay?” he asks.

“no,” sabo answers, and he can feel all his hopelessness put into the word.

ace frowns. he looks unsure, and his next question is hesitant. “did you . . remember something?”

“no,” sabo says again, and this time his voice breaks. and then ace understands, and he bends in close, wiping sabo’s face as the tears start falling again.

“shhh, sabo, it’s okay,” he whispers. “no one is forcing you to rush. did your therapist say something?”

“no.”

“do you want to talk about it?”

“no.”

do you want to quit?

“no. no. no,” sabo repeats, lifting his hands to shield his face. ace takes them and gently pries them away, refusing to let him be alone. he leans his forehead to sabo’s hairline, closes his eyes.

“hey, sabo. i love you. i know it’s been a while since i’ve said it, but that doesn’t make it any less true. i’ve loved you for a long time, and i’ll keep loving you for even longer. no matter what. i mean that. no matter what happens, no matter what you decide to do, i want you to know my love for you won’t go away. so you do whatever you have to do, and i’ll support your decision. i’m here for you. i’ve always been here, and i always will be here. nothing is going to change that.”

“i’m sorry,” sabo gasps, hands still trapped between ace’s. “i’m sorry,” he says, because he can’t say it back. because the feelings are there but it doesn’t feel right to parrot back words he’s unsure of, even after all this time. 

“shhh,” ace whispers, releasing his hands to pull his body closer. he feels sabo’s arms go to wrap around his back. “you don’t need to feel sorry,” he breathes. “you just need to be sabo. the current sabo. and everything will sort itself out from there.”

sabo is asleep before ace gets out from his shower. he gathers the flowers, hooks them through the doorjamb, and makes his way across the room in the dark.

-

sabo uses ace’s phone to call and cancel his psych appointment. ace is still asleep, and he really needs some air, so he grabs the house key and slips on his shoes.

the bouquet greets him at the door. sabo takes it in his arms and slides the door shut, careful not to make any noise.

the daisies don’t take long to start wilting from the cold. sabo empathizes with them.

-

ace starts coming home later and sabo decidedly feels useless. he’s not contributing to anything. he’s not doing anything. at least he had things to look forward to, when he was at the hospital. now, nothing is new, and nothing is exciting. at least at the hospital, ace was there, right until he fell asleep, and then back again when he woke up. 

he doesn’t mean to bring it up one night. it just happens, the “you’re hardly ever here” spilling from his lips before he can stop it.

ace pauses stirring, holding the spoon steady. “i know. it’ll get better. i promise.”

“you’ve been saying that for months now.”

he reaches out to turn the burner to low. “and hasn’t it? gotten better? you’re not in the hospital anymore. you’re alive. that’s more than i ever could have imagined, back then. we have this place, and food, and i’m here right now, and you’re here right now. i’m not lying to you, sabo. things aren’t perfect, no, but that doesn’t mean they haven’t gotten better.”

“you’re not lying to me. but i think you’re lying to yourself, ace.”

ace turns the stove off and puts a lid over the pot to seal the warmth. “how?”

a rustling lets him know sabo is standing. “when are you going to admit that i’m not the person you fell in love with?”

ace pauses, as he sets the spoon in the sink. “i fell in love with sabo,” he says, turning. 

“i gave him my name. i gave him a cherry ring pop, and we ran away from home. we chased the high in a car, and mapped an adventure across the country. we sold the car to a scrapyard and he insisted we drag the tires all the way to a secondhand store. most damn money he ever made, in a day. then he found us this little hovel, and we started camping out there.”

sabo feels his heart sink, as ace proves him right.

“i gave him my time, my patience, my outstanding humor. my outlandish remarks. so much grief he should’ve gotten rid of me long ago. another cherry ring pop, and a goodbye kiss. and then a promise, behind the curtains of an icu room.” ace takes a deep breath, and sabo looks up, stuck on his last sentence until it fades into more.

“i gave him my name, again. to anyone who would listen. told them the blond kid? the one who was unconscious in a coma after surgery? his name was sabo portgas.

“i gave him skittles in a hospital room. i gave him all my time, all my patience. i told him his name and my name every time he woke up, then watched as the nurse came back in and he treated her like it was the first instance they’d met. he was brash and abrasive and distrustful, it was like i had stepped back in time, like i was wooing nine-year-old sabo all over again. like the essence of him was still there, even if he forgot again when he woke up.

“i gave him information, but he changed it, morphed it. suddenly his favorite color wasn’t blue, it was red. suddenly he had battle scars he wasn’t proud of. suddenly he was letting his hair grow out, even after years and years of complaining that it would get in the way.” ace pauses, moving closer, until he can lift sabo’s head up in his hands.

“i fell in love with sabo,” he confesses. “there’s no end, and there’s no beginning. he’s one person, accident or no, memories or no. things will change, but nothing is going to change that.” ace huffs out a breathy laugh, and swipes his thumbs under sabo’s eyes to collect the tears before they fall. 

sabo squeezes his eyes shut, sniffs. “i don’t deserve you.”

“i think we make a perfect match,” ace counters. 

later, when they’re both curled up on the futon, sabo will surprise them both.

“blue raspberry,” he mumbles, head pillowed on ace’s chest.

“for what?” ace hums.

“the ring pop,” sabo slurs. “i wanted cherry, but they were out. the only thing close was strawberry, but you got blue raspberry, because-” he breaks off, suddenly.

ace, who had been wide awake from the second sentence, slowly tightens his arms around sabo’s middle. “because what?” he asks softly.

“because it matched my eyes,” sabo finishes. “so i took it.”

“and then?” ace prompts.

“it was really sour, and i couldn’t stand it. so i gave it to you instead.”

“and then?”

“you broke off the plastic ring from the bottom and gave it back. said you would get cherry next time. made it a promise, on the ring.”

“and then?”

“i became sabo portgas, right there in the parking lot.”

sabo grows quiet after that. ace waits a little, then leans closer. “what’s next?” he whispers, right in sabo’s ear.

sabo picks his head up to rest his chin on ace’s chest, facing him. “i don’t know,” he admits. “that’s all i got.” he bites down on his lip, as the gleam in ace’s eyes refuses to die out. “don’t get too excited, okay? that’s the only thing. if this-” he said not to, but he’s the one biting on his cheeks to keep from grinning like a madman. “if this is happening, then taking it slow would be better.”

“i got cherry, the second time,” ace tells him.

“yeah, you told me that.” sabo rolls his eyes. “slowly, okay?”

“whatever you want.”

-

the vase sabo had been moving to the sink never makes it, slipping from his hands and shattering on the tile instead.

sabo flinches at the noise, takes one step back, and then sighs, dropping his outstretched hand down to his side. “shit.” well, it could have been worse. it could’ve already had the water in it, and then the floor would be soaked too. 

sabo frowns as he stares at the mess. the impact echoes in his ears, and he shakes his head to ring it out. 

a hand lands on his shoulder. sabo startles, bad, and jumps forward, crunching glass underneath his shoes. he breathes out and whips around, sending more of the glass sliding around the tile. ace stands with his hand still raised, mirroring sabo’s surprised expression. sabo closes his eyes, presses a hand to his forehead.

“sorry, i thought you heard me come in.” ace walks forward and nudges sabo out of the glass, careful when he grips his arms to pull him to the edge of the kitchen. 

“no,” sabo admits. he’s still trying to process. why the glass sounded familiar, and why it was almost muscle memory that had him moving from any sort of contact after. he can’t come up with anything, which is an ever continuous cycle of annoying and bemusing. 

they don’t have a broom, sabo realizes, and he steps forward again. “here, let me-” he starts, bending down to gather the bigger shards. ace catches his wrist and shakes his head until he’s standing again.

“don’t. you’ll cut yourself. i got it.”

sabo bites down on his lip and resigns himself to watching as ace folds a paper towel and sweeps all the glass onto a plate. he moves around the tile with a wet one next, collecting the pieces that had crumbled so small they were only noticeable by the shine in the cracks between tiles. 

“are you okay?” ace asks, once he’s disposed of it all. “you were holding your head earlier.”

“yeah, i’m fine.” sabo shrugs. “i don’t know -i think it reminded me of something? but i can’t figure out what,” he confesses.

“beats me,” ace says. sabo can’t help the sting, hoping that if he was honest, ace would tell him. he still hadn’t remembered anything past that one day, and it was starting to wear on him again.

“have-” he cuts himself off before he can start. if ace didn’t know, he didn’t know. there was no point asking. “nevermind.”

ace lets it go in favor of retrieving an envelope from his coat. “food stamps came in. wanna go shopping?”

“yeah.” sabo puts on a smile and lets it go. it wouldn’t be best to dwell. “that sounds great.”

-

they meet up late in the evening by the car. sabo is rounding the side when he catches sight of ace’s messy hair. he’s waiting for him on the bumper, looking up at the sky. sabo stops short and smiles. he must shuffle some gravel, because ace turns his head, and then he’s smiling too.

“hey. kept me waiting. what did you do?”

“i painted a house today.” his smile turns lopsided. ace notices.

“are you okay?”

“i feel kinda woozy,” sabo admits. he takes a step and drags his hand along the rim of the truck for balance, and ace jumps up.

“here, c’mon, you should lay down before we do anything.” he helps situate sabo in the truckbed and sighs as he squats next to him. 

“here,” sabo mumbles, digging out a wad of cash. ace takes it and flips through it.

“hm, pretty good.” he pulls out a bigger roll from his shorts and fans it in front of sabo’s face. “not as good as me though!”

“aww!” sabo whines. “how come you always win?”

“guess i just find better things to do.”

“cheater,” sabo grumbles.

ace doesn’t comment on that. “you still smell paint?” he asks instead.

“a little. my head just . . ugh, feels weird,” he mumbles. 

“want to-”

a buzzing rouses sabo from sleep. he peels his eyes open as ace extracts himself enough to reach out and silence his phone. he moves back to bury his face in sabo’s hair, and sabo allows it for a moment before turning around to push him away. ace groans, his arms tightening around sabo’s middle.

“no,” sabo insists. “if you don’t get up now you won’t at all.”

ace, knowing this, sighs and finally pulls back. “i hate it when you’re right.”

sabo doesn’t go back to sleep in favor of watching ace move around the room. he sits up after a minute, leaning against the wall, blanket draped over his form. “hey, can we talk for a minute?”

ace glances over, then resumes his task. “yeah,” he answers, voice still raspy from sleep. he comes back over eventually and settles himself in front of sabo.

“i dreamed something,” sabo reveals. “i’m not sure what to make of it, or if it’s even real, so . .”

“tell me,” ace insists, suddenly more awake. sabo recounts the dream and watches his expression morph.

“what did we do with the money?”

“at first i thought we would eat good, but it took a long time for you to start feeling better.” ace shrugs. “spent most of it on medicine and gas, then headed somewhere new.”

“how long did we stay somewhere?” sabo asks, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“depends. if there was work and we didn’t run into trouble, a few weeks at most. some places we’d stop for some food and make the decision to try somewhere else.”

“trouble,” sabo mutters.

“ah, that was on me.” ace shrugs as sabo looks up. “well, it’s okay if that never comes back.”

“what do you think caused this?” sabo frowns. “it’s not like we were talking about anything before i fell asleep.”

“i’m not a doctor, sab. don’t have that answer.”

“right. uh, sorry.”

“hey, it’s okay. thanks for telling me. was there anything else . . ?”

“go to work,” sabo drones.

“right, okay. see ya.”

ace leaves and sabo unfolds himself until he can stand. he sets his resolve as he pulls on his shoes.

-

“you got a job?!”

“yeah, i think so,” sabo mutters around his food. he reaches out and rips off another piece of bread, munching on it.

“where at?”

“the library on the corne- what? what is it?”

“nothin’.” ace shrugs, still smiling. “just suits you, is all.”

“thanks, i guess.”

“when do you start?”

“they have to call me back.”

“but you got it?”

“i think so.”

ace frowns. “wait, call you back?”

“aha. about that.”

ace is already sliding out his phone. “i guess you could keep it for a few days,” he mutters. “and don’t apologize! if that was your only option, it’s fine.”

sabo wisely closes his mouth and goes back to eating.

“would i have done this?” he asks later. “before?”

ace hums. “dunno. does it matter? you’re doing it now.”

“that’s not what i meant. i just . . sometimes i get curious, about what i was like.”

“the only thing that matters is who you are right now,” ace reminds him gently. “nothing should influence that. the past sabo has no right to the current sabo.”

sabo thinks on this for a long time before deciding he didn’t quite agree. if wasn’t like the two were separate. as slow as it was, he was regaining memories. what happened when he reached the point where his old self felt just as much him as his current self? 

what happened when he regained enough sense to merge the two?

-

sabo is clearing books from an abandoned table when he spots ace in the corner. he gathers the stack in his arms and walks over, stopping right before his seat.

“what are you doing?” he asks, as ace looks up.

“can i not sit here?” ace says drily. sabo gives him a look and he relents. “okay, okay. i thought i would wait for you. better than being at home alone.”

“i’m not off for another few hours.”

“that’s fine!” ace beams up at him as sabo turns suspicious. “just being around you is enough,” he admits.

sabo looks away, the heat bubbling to his face. “sap,” he mutters.

“go do your job. i’ll be fine! promise.”

sabo nods one more time before moving into the stacks. he takes a moment to cool off and then heads to the back with the books.

when he’s done for the night, he moves back to ace’s spot only to find him asleep, head nestled in his arms piled on the table. sabo rolls his eyes and bends by the chair legs. he runs a hand through ace’s hair until he makes a soft sound.

“ace,” he tries. “it’s time to wake up.”

“mm- wha-?” ace shifts his head as his eyes open. sabo lets his hand fall away.

“hey. let’s go.”

“sa-” ace interrupts himself with a yawn. he lifts his head from the table, glances around. “where are we?” he mumbles.

“library.”

“why?”

“you tell me,” he hums, pulling the chair back. ace grabs hold of the arms to steady himself, glaring up at sabo.

“how’s it going?” ace asks, once they’re out the door. he waits until they’re in the parking lot to swing his coat from his arms to sabo’s shoulders, pulling it around. 

“it’s good.” he catches one of ace’s hands before he can pull away, and tugs his scarf off with the other. 

“do you need more clothes?”

“i think-” sabo pauses to loop the scarf around ace’s head. “that if i keep this jacket zipped, no one will notice for a while.”

“yeah, that’s fair.” ace takes their joined hands and pulls sabo forward. 

“i like having something to do.”

“i don’t!” ace whines, swinging their arms. “i mean- that came out wrong.” he shrivels a little at sabo’s look. “i like knowing where you are,” he rephrases. “and i like coming home to you. it’s going to be different, not seeing you as much.”

“i got used to it,” sabo says quietly. ace squeezes his hand.

“i know it’s been hard to adjust. after i saw you so much in the hospital, anything less was bound to be rough to handle. but you’ve been amazingly considerate, for the most part, and i should learn to do the same.”

ace looks away when the crosswalk changes, though there’s no traffic. he steps forward but doesn’t get far, not when sabo’s not moving. he turns back and blanches when he sees tears running down the blond’s face.

“sabo, hey.” he steps closer again, raising his free hand to wipe sabo’s face. “did i say something wrong? what’s going on?”

“you’ve never said anything wrong.” sabo sniffles, blinks, lets fresh tears fall and blur his vision. “everything you say is so nice. sometimes i don’t know how to handle it. like now.” he sniffs again, lets ace wipe at his cheeks. “thank you. i know i don’t say it often enough, but really, thank you.”

“don’t mention it,” ace mumbles. he steps closer, and cradles sabo’s face in his hands, and lets the lights cast them in red. it shines on sabo’s cheeks, and in his bright hair, and ace knows going for a combo hit wouldn’t be the best idea, but he can’t help it. “you’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, just loud enough for sabo to hear.

sabo laughs, a little shakily. “knocking me while i’m down, huh?”

ace shrugs. “i just told the truth.”

“i need to sit down before you say something else.”

“let’s cross the street first.” ace pulls on sabo’s arm and spins around. the street is still empty, so he moves them across, even under protest.

“but the light-”

“it’s good, sab. don’t worry so much about it. see?” he says, as they hit the sidewalk again. “no problem.”

“okay,” sabo mumbles.

they make it home without incident, and sabo starts thinking again. while ace is asleep, he pushes up his sleeves and looks at all the marks littering his arms in the dim glow of the bathroom. usually, he would have grouped all the injuries he had accumulated and gotten treatment in the hospital for as part of the same incident. but now he wasn’t sure. what if only some of them came from that, and the others from another event that occurred the same day? what if he was hurt, and then got into something like a car crash? 

sabo frowns. that didn’t sound right, but he was so lost, at this point. he had some puzzle pieces but no frame to match them to. he didn’t know what to think anymore.

-

“That boy is always out there waiting for you,” his supervisor calls out to him. sabo doesn’t stop walking toward the checkout, the last stack of spare books in his arms, but he does turn his head to look out one of the windows. it’s not hard to spot ace, a modest distance from the doors, face lit up by his phone. sabo looks back in a hurry, a light laugh bubbling in his throat.

“yeah, i guess,” he replies. his supervisor doesn’t say anything more. not until he’s leaving, anyway.

“you two get home safe,” she tells him, waving him out the door. sabo ducks his head.

“right,” he mutters, stepping outside.

ace pockets his phone as sabo comes through the door. he tips his head at the frown suddenly on sabo’s face. “what’s wrong?”

“it’s too cold to be waiting out here,” he protests, stepping closer to rub ace’s free hands with his warmer ones. ace shrugs.

“it’s been getting warmer, actually.” he uses the grip to pull sabo towards him. “but if you wanna warm me up, i won’t complain.”

“of course you won’t,” sabo mutters. “hey, don’t wait up tomorrow. i’ll be home late.”

ace shrugs, pulling them both down the street. “yeah, i might get off at a weird time anyway, so i doubt i’ll see you until you get home.”

“perfect,” sabo says, a little absently, then freezes up at his mistake.

ace watches him closely. “yeah? got a surprise or somethin’?”

“guess you’ll have to wait and see!” sabo smiles cheekily, throws up a peace sign, then dashes down the street. ace lets out a startled shout before running to catch up.

-

it’s snowing when sabo wakes up.

guess the good weather couldn’t last forever, he thinks, as he steps outside. he wraps his scarf over his head but it does little to help. when he makes it to work he stops on the doormat to dust himself off, covered in fresh powder. it was already piled high on the ground, too.

it’s still snowing when he gets off, the thick white blanket offsetting the night, still bright enough to see even without the sun. “be careful out there,” his supervisor tells him, before he leaves. 

sabo stands under the awning for a minute, debating going straight home while he crunches a few bills in his jacket pocket. the wind wasn’t bad, really, but it was snowing pretty heavily, and it was likely to pick up soon.

but. sabo bites down on his lip.

no. he wasn’t going to be deterred.

he stamps his feet in the entryway once he’s through the door of the gas station, breathing out a sign as his face slowly stops stinging. the cashier glances outside after scanning his item, looking from sabo’s meek winter wear to the worsening weather.

“be careful out there,” he tells sabo, an echo of the woman from the library. he nods, adjusts his scarf, and braces himself as he steps back out into the snow.

the walk home is not great. he’s trudging through the snow at this point. his socks are wet. he can’t see very well, even with all the street lights. this was not a good choice in hindsight, he thinks, and then the sky lights up.

a low rumble of thunder cuts in, and sabo blinks, pausing in his step to process. that was lightning. was it because of the temperature change? because it was snowing so much? sabo didn’t know it could thunder while it was snowing.

hm. well, he was almost home. if he waited around it would only get worse, and he had promised ace he would be late, not not there at all.

with that in mind, he picks up his pace, jogging until he hits a streetlight, tightening his grip on his earlier purchase, safe inside his pocket. he breathes out in annoyance, moving in place to stay warm, then perks up as he remembers something.

a gust of wind cuts past, and sabo brings up an arm to shield his face. he glances back and forth to confirm the street was clear, then breaks off from the sidewalk. at least the roads weren’t piled with snow like the walkways were, having been stamped down by passing traffic. the only thing that was worse was the ice, which-

sabo’s breath catches as his heel hooks onto a smooth patch, unsteadying him. he throws his arms out to regain balance, stepping off from the ice. well. could’ve been worse, he thinks, as he guards himself from another wind gust and steps forwa

sabo comes to with a wince as a light shines in his eye. his eye is closed again and his mouth falls open in a grunt. voices speak in urgent tones above him. he might hear a siren, and oh, that would explain the flashes behind his eyelids.

his hand crumples the plastic packaging in his pocket. it’s the last thing he registers.

-

sabo yawns into his hand as he makes it up the last of the steps, pushing out with his free one to shove at the door. since it didn’t have a doorknob, he wasn’t overly concerned over the fact it wasn’t already pushed into the frame. it happened often enough.

“ace, i’m home,” he calls out, rubbing at his eyes. he walks several paces into the house, not noticing the wind passing easily through the broken window panes. if anything, their place is already drafty, so when he trips over the glass shards on the ground, he only frowns down at the mess.

“what broke?” he mumbles, finally dropping his arms. actually, they definitely didn’t own anything made of glass, so-

sabo looks up as a hand settles on his shoulder, but he’s thrown into the wall before he can make out a face. someone else comes up, complexion hidden by the shadows, and thrusts a damp rag into sabo’s face, holding it there as a hand tightens around his neck.

he passes out almost instantaneously.

sabo comes to hazily. his head is down so he’s staring at his lap. he has enough awareness to realize he’s sitting up, his legs bound to something hard, but not enough sense of self-preservation to control the harsh exhale through his nose. there’s something tied to his mouth, and the air feels heavy, laced with something that keeps him dizzy. he can’t find the strength to raise his head, and it’s probably the only thing that keeps the others in the room from taking notice of his waking. his hands are bound too, tied tight against something flat out in front of him. sabo takes note of voices, but they’re too low for him to make anything out. he doesn’t pay attention until he recognizes ace’s among them.

“i got it. it’s yours. i’ll- it’s-” ace breaks off with a huff. “nothing is in the house. it’s in the wall in the building behind it. there’s a loose brick, about four down and-” he continues but sabo loses track of the words with the pressure on the back of his neck. he winces sharply, and it must be loud enough to be heard through the rag, because the pinch grows tighter, and someone is lifting his face up. sabo’s eyes blink open, but it’s heavy, and they don���t expand anymore than halfway before the light grows too intense to bear.

“sabo-” ace starts, voice loud and startled, but he’s cut off.

“v, go and check. bring j with you. make sure you count everything. if it’s not all there, call me.”

sabo squints and the hand holding his head releases him. he works hard to keep it raised, leaning right with the effort. movement comes and goes, but he still can’t make out much. he tries to move his eyes left, where he heard ace’s voice, but it’s hard.

“everything is there,” ace promises, sounding on the edge of desperation.

“oh i don’t doubt that. you seem pretty desperate. there’s another matter we have to settle, though.”

the voice moves closer, and sabo tenses as something enters his peripheral. he flexes his fingers, but his wrists are bound so tight that even that hurts.

“you hurt m pretty bad. poor guy won’t be moving easy for a bit. sucks, y’know? one of my best men, gone just like that. you sure aren’t an easy guy to please, portgas, but even that was going too far. so i started thinking to myself . .” 

he brandishes something that gleams in the light, and ace sucks in a breath, and sabo blinks, heavy, thinking his eyes must be playing tricks on him.

but then the cold press of metal is on his forearm, edge digging into his skin, and the raspy voice is right by sabo’s head.

“since you hurt one of my boys, i’m going to hurt your boy.”

“wait-” ace says, but the knife rips down sabo’s arm before he can get anything else out, and sabo is screaming long before he can process where the cut stops at the rope binding his hands.

-

“sabo, listen to me,” ace says, and he tries. it hurts. he doesn’t know how long he’s been here, or when it started, or where the pain begins and where it ends, the damage too extensive. blood covers his forearms from thick cuts, spilling onto his legs, staining the carpet underneath. he’s dizzy, and he feels like throwing up. his breaths come in pants, and he can barely hear ace between them, everything else too loud in his ears. 

“if we get out of this, i promise i’ll do better. i’ll stop the dangerous shit. i’ll find something else to do. i’ll change, so please, please, you have to hold on.”

sabo doesn’t know if he nods or tries to or succeeds or fails. footsteps sound loud, echoing off the walls, and his brain short-circuits, pure, unadulterated fear flowing through him. he tenses his arms and blood leaks through the cuts and he chokes on a sob, the effort making his neck ache. there’s a weight on his chest that he can’t make out, and sabo squeezes his eyes shut in anticipation. 

-

ace flinches harsh at the loud noise. when he pries his eyes open, r is on the ground, a hole in his head. he’s slumped, but it doesn’t take long for the rest of him to tumble down, slamming into ace’s chair. he jerks forward but doesn’t tip over, thankfully. still, the motion is enough to jar him, and ace coughs hard, hunched over, blood dribbling from his mouth. 

someone comes the rest of the way down the narrow staircase and ace tenses, having enough instincts to spin his head around. a burly man steps down from the last step, eyeing ace through his shades with his gun still raised. he takes stock of the situation pretty quickly, lowering the arm to raise one with a receiver to his mouth. 

“there’s only one down here. i already took him out.”

static crackles in the next few, tense moments. “then hurry back up.”

he pockets the gun and the receiver and steps further into the room, grimacing at the blood that makes the carpet squishy underfoot. he moves his eyes away from ace to look down at the bloody bat r had used to bash sabo’s head in, kicking it away with a grunt. he looks to sabo next, still tied to the chair, and presses his lips tight until they turn pale. then he crouches next to r and checks his pulse.

“yep, he’s dead dead,” he mutters to himself. then he sighs. “should probably take the body . .” he turns his head over his shoulder to look at the stairs, sighs again, then hauls the corpse up. he doesn’t spare ace a second glance, leaving the room rapidly, and once he’s out of sight ace doesn’t spend another moment worrying about him, moving his fingers to wrestle with his restraints.

-

the house is silent when ace frees himself, breaking the chair to slide out the legs from between the rope. he collapses on the ground and gags and flips over onto his back and lies there for a moment, breathing. the action nearly makes him sick, so ace picks himself onto his knees as quick as he can manage, crossing across the soiled carpet to sabo’s chair. 

“you’re okay you have to be okay please be okay,” he mutters, leaning on the chair and reaching a hand up to brush the back of sabo’s head. the bleeding hasn’t stopped, and sabo’s unconscious, his head lolled far enough forward for ace to be dizzy with anger when he sees the injury there.

ace coughs again and curses as he spits blood onto sabo. he moves to a stand and sags against the chair, vision blurring, the room spinning. somehow he makes it to the stairs, using the wall to climb up and digging for his phone, thankful they hadn’t seen the need to take it. once he gets a signal he sags onto the railing, talking hurriedly into the speaker. he abandons it on the steps once he gets an affirmative, crawling back down to sabo to cut his restraints. he wants to pull him down but he’s afraid of moving him too much. he passes out before he can make a decision, slumped over one of the armrests, still holding tight to sabo to try and stop the bleeding.

-

sabo groans before he is fully conscious, the sound coming from closed lips. his eyes are sticky when he finally opens them. the smell of antiseptic is strong, but ace’s head is above his before he can look at his surroundings to gauge his location. 

“hey,” sabo mumbles, not liking the way his lips form the words. his face feels weird. his body hurts. 

“hey,” ace says lowly. there’s something unreadable to his expression, and sabo wants to pry it out and reveal its intentions. 

“what happened?” he asks instead.

ace’s lower lip worries, and he steadies it before answering. “what’s the last thing you remember?”

oh. sabo squints. okay, he can definitely see the distress rolling off ace in waves. so that was it. well, he supposes that was a valid reason.

“waking up to this cute nurse,” he says, because sabo is an asshole first and foremost. ace leans back and sabo looks him up and down. “or maybe you’re an intern,” he amends, eyes moving back to ace’s face.

he looks on the verge of tears, as he moves off the bed. sabo rolls his eyes.

“sit back down, ace. please.”

ace’s breath catches and he glares down at sabo. “you-”

“sorry, i guess i took that too far,” sabo apologizes. “i remember crossing the street. i think i almost slipped on a patch of ice.”

ace huffs and climbs onto the bed to sit even with sabo’s waist. he’s propped up slightly by the pillows, so it brings them close enough for ace to comfortably reach up and carefully cradle sabo’s face in both hands, thumbs gently smoothing over his brows. he relaxes into the hold. “i think you did slip, because a car rammed into you pretty badly. it’s unlike you to be distracted enough not to notice.”

“hmmm. no, i think it was snowing, so maybe i didn’t see.” sabo does his best to shrug. it feels weird. “it doesn’t matter, i guess. what happened after?”

ace’s hands still. “they brought you here.” his expression grows pained. “i’m your emergency contact, so they called me when you went into surgery.” he frowns. “i wasn’t even off work.”

sabo blinks, and god, that was right. he moves his hands up to rub at his eyes. “thinking about you with a real job is so weird. i don’t think i’ll ever get used to it.”

“i mean, you have one too.” ace pauses. “wait what?”

sabo pushes himself up off the pillows, dislodging ace’s hands. “my jacket,” he stammers. “you have it? where is it?”

“yeah, sure.” ace moves off the bed to pick up the jacket from the chair he’d been seated in. he passes it to sabo and watches as he roots through the pockets, hand clenching around something that crackles, and then leans over it, until his forehead is against his legs.

“ow,” he says after a moment, raising up again. one hand moves to his ribs. “what did i break?”

“a few ribs,” ace admits. “you have a lot of bruising. they did surgery for internal bleeding. it’s only been a handful of hours since then.” he nods to the window. “the sun’s barely been up an hour.”

“oh.” sabo crinkles the wrapper again. he turns his head to look at ace. “close your eyes, okay?”

ace wants to refute. he wants to talk about this, because sabo is saying some very familiar things, but they’re things he hasn’t heard in a long time. but he indulges him for the moment.

sabo takes the package from his jacket and tears it open. he frowns down at the contents, but he supposes it’s the best he could hope for. “hold out your hands,” he tells ace. his brow furrows, but he complies, cupping them together. 

sabo scoots to the edge of the mattress and pours purple candy shards and a distinct plastic shape into ace’s hands. ace frowns and wastes no time in opening his eyes to look at the mess. they catch on the blue ring in the center and blow wide, and he sits there staring at it without a word.

sabo sits back and tosses the wrapper away, unbothered by the candy crumbs it scatters. “they only had grape ring pops, where i went.”

ace frowns deeper. “this is such a mess. you want me to lick these off my hand? you don’t ever think these things through. how am i supposed to pick up the ring?”

“after enjoying the candy i bought you, duh.” sabo reaches forward to grab the ring base, but he must be a little forceful about it, because the motion topples the iv stand from the other side of the bed, sending it crashing against the mattress, and then to the ground, which pulls the iv clear out of his wrist. his “here, let me-” is cut off at the noise, and he holds down against his bleeding wrist with the hand holding the ring. “ow!”

“oh my god.” ace can’t help it when he laughs. “that’s not funny,” he says when sabo glares at him, but he’s still laughing. a nurse comes in to find them like that, takes one look at the iv on the ground, and leaves again.

the doctor comes in with her next, cutting off sabo’s words with his entrance.

“hm. i see you’re already being disruptive.”

he doesn’t appear angry or annoyed at the fact, and sabo thinks it might have been a joke, considering he had the same doctor, but he still looks away guiltily. “sorry,” he mutters.

“how are you feeling?” the doctor asks as he reinserts sabo’s iv. 

“like i got hit by a car.”

“oh, good. i’m happy to inform you that’s not an outlier, in your case.”

“you mean, considering i got hit by a car?”

the doctor raises his brows. “you have a lot more sass than i remember.” he moves his gaze to sabo’s other hand, and the ring pop base he has clutched in it. he tracks the rest to ace’s hand, the other slowly picking out bigger pieces to suck on, and scattering smaller bits with every movement. he sighs. “you know, i’ll come back later. it can wait.”

the nurse looks like she doesn’t quite agree with him, but she follows him back out without protest. sabo waits until the door is closed to lean back against the pillows, still sitting up, just with more support. he breathes out deep. “i’m exhausted.”

“you should probably explain this before you pass out.” ace motions to the candy.

“oh, right.” it takes little effort for sabo to break off the ring from the base, even considering how tired he was. he tosses the top half away and holds the plastic ring out to ace. “i’m giving you one back. i know it’s overdue.” he shrugs. “sorry it broke.”

“unavoidable, considering the circumstances.” ace’s eyes narrow as he sticks out a finger to put through the ring. “which were completely unavoidable. you scared me to death.”

sabo’s gaze drops to ace’s no-longer-ringless hand, and he grabs at it with both his own before ace can pull back. “you really have changed,” he murmurs, just loud enough for ace to hear, and his heart startles at the thought.

“you really do remember,” ace counters, voice faint as he tries to recall how to breathe.

sabo’s already shaking his head. “not all the way.” he suddenly looks very tired. “just that night.” he squints. “nights. however long we were there.”

ace winces. “and . . that made you want to do this?” he wiggles his fingers, the only thing he can manage with sabo’s hold.

“oh, no. like i said, it was overdue.” sabo’s lips purse. “i’ve been remembering more and more, but it’s not all back. a lot of it isn’t back. there are still a lot of gaps. but, i guess i remembered enough to figure you really were telling the truth, about being in love with me, and i realized i was in love with you, too.” he reaches out to slowly twist the ring around ace’s finger. his eyes are fixed to it. “and i know it might not all come back. but i don’t care anymore. and you’ve told me enough times that you don’t care, either. so i just thought . . . uhm. that i would, y’know, let myself be happy, and all.” his head is turned to the window, at this point. “and i promised that i would get you a ring, after my second one, so this is just me acting on that! it’s not a new idea or anything. it’s very un-spontaneous, actually.” his face breaks, as he releases ace’s hand and looks into his eyes. “sorry it broke,” he says, his voice wavering.

ace stands up and spills the rest of the crumbs and uses the same hand to tug sabo into a hug, careful of his chest. sabo doesn’t seem to mind, gripping him tight, and his face falls into ace’s neck, just like it always used to, and he doesn’t even care that ace’s sticky hands are all over his hospital gown, or on his face, pulling him back to pull him in again, parting his lips with a gentle force that sabo allows, sighing into it.

ace moves back and sabo is dizzy and his eyes are heavy. “ace portgas, i love you.”

“sabo portgas, i love you more.”

“yeah, you probably do. i don’t doubt that.” he reaches up to trace ace’s jawline. “still.”

ace rolls his eyes. “you should try and sleep. i’ll still be here when you wake up.”

sabo hums. he pulls away to settle down, but he doesn’t release ace, instead shuffling to one side of the bed. ace gets the memo without any words and huffs out a contained laugh, kicking his shoes off proper and climbing under the blankets.

“staff won’t like this,” he muses, letting sabo curl up to him, arm gentle over his back. 

“don’t care,” sabo mumbles, burying his nose in ace’s chest, until he can feel his heartbeat. 

-

ace is fire and pain and yet it hurts the most not knowing, so the second he can he sits up out of bed and throws his feet over the edge. he drops heavy on his knees, hands held hard to the iv pole, barely on his feet. one hand comes off to touch at his chest, and curl into the fabric of his gown. his eyes are shut, his teeth gritted. it takes him a long time to relax.

he shoves the curtain aside and is immediately met with a bunch of stares that he ignores, eyes searching. they land on an open curtain not far from his own, sabo in the middle of two nurses in drab scrubs, looking radiant between the dull colors and heavy monitors. they’re hooking him up, so he must have just arrived. ace wastes no time in moving forward, pushing even when his breathing deepens from effort and his chest begins to ache.

“wait, sir-!” someone begins, but ace moves out of the loose hold until he’s at the foot of sabo’s bed. his eyes widen as he takes sabo in, at his wrapped head and arms and legs and what he can see peeking out from under the hem of his shirt. he places one hand at the edge of the bed to steady himself, curling his fingers against the folded sheet that lay there.

the nurses look between each other and one of them stops messing with the machines. “sir, you can’t be here.” 

ace looks up, panicked as she comes closer. “wait, but sabo-!” he bites his lip. “i just wanted to see sabo. he’s okay, right?”

“you should go lie back down,” she says, but that doesn’t answer ace’s question. he feels discomfort in his chest, like he has to cough or something, and he squeezes the sheet tighter as he forces the urge down.

“please. i can sit down here if you want, but i just want to see him for a bit. just a minute.”

the other nurse finishes that side and looks past ace, to the nurse that had followed him. he glances back to ace. “you know his name?”

“yeah.” ace bobs his head, realizes his sudden bargaining chip, and immediately puts it to full use. “it’s sabo. i can tell you whatever you need, just let me sit here to do it.”

the one nearest to him sighs and goes back to fiddling with the machines. “go grab a chair,” she mutters, and her coworker runs off to do just that.

ace feels relief that is tough to hide as he sits, grateful to be off his feet. “sabo portgas,” he says, moving closer to be near sabo’s head while being out of the way. he’s sickly pale. ace is glad he’s alive and seems to be stable, but he’s tough to look at. he bites at his lip again. “did he have surgery? is that where he was?”

“portgas.” the nurse frowns, then frowns further as ace comes to attention. “that was the surname you gave us, wasn’t it?”

ace nods.

“you’re family, then?”

ace nods again.

her frown deepens as she looks between the two. “i can’t see much of a resemblance.”

“oh, we’re not blood-related,” ace admits.

“ah. well, i guess you are within your bounds. he did just undergo surgery. it’s his second.”

ace turns back to sabo, but he looks at all the machines instead. he doesn’t ask what the surgeries were for, because he has a pretty good idea of what both of them were for, and the fact that two were needed was already concerning enough to make his stomach roll. “when will he wake up?”

“we don’t know. we put him in a coma to speed recovery, but when he regains consciousness is partly his choice.”

“i hope he chooses soon,” ace mutters.

the nurse chuckles. “not that sort of active choice. it’s more how fast his body heals. regardless, he’ll wake up on his own eventually.” her hand moves across the clipboard she’s holding to scribble in numbers, and ace’s eyes stick on the far machine, a pulse monitor with a slow beep.

“that doesn’t seem right,” he says, nodding to the monitor when she looks up. she glances at it and hums.

“it is a little slow, but it’s steady, which is the important thing.” she scribbles in the count, then pauses, pen hovered over the page. “is that concerningly slow? do you know his normal count?”

ace blinks. “uh, no.” was that bad? was that a usual thing to know? ace thinks on all the times he’s heard sabo’s heartbeat, and they’ve only ever been when it’s racing.

“you get the name?” another nurse asks, stopping while wandering by. 

“sabo,” she says over her shoulders, tapping the page.

“sabo portgas,” ace stresses.

“right. portgas,” she amends.

the other nurse narrows his eyes in thought. “and you’re ace, right?”

ace nods as the nurse across from him taps the page with her pen, drawing the attention of her colleague. he scans that section and hums, then looks back up to ace.

“you were brought in together,” he murmurs in thought. he holds up a vial. “is he allergic to anything? we wanted to put this in the iv.”

“no allergies,” ace says, eyes lidding. that he knew of. but if sabo had a spontaneous reaction to something medicine-related, would it be on him?

his face must give something away, because the nurse gives him an odd look before moving to sabo’s other side, where the iv sat.

“he’ll say it, too,” ace says suddenly, drawing both of their gazes. “when he wakes up. he’ll say he’s sabo portgas, and that he’s mi-” he cuts off with a violent cough, hand going up to his face, and the nurse quickly stands to assist him.

“c’mon, that’s enough. you should go lie down now.” ace opens his mouth in protest as she helps him to his feet. “you can always come back, ace. he won’t be in icu forever. focus on self-recovery for now. at least until he wakes up.”

ace sighs and gives up with a small nod, dropping his head down. he looks to the bland, bright floor as he lets her lead him back to his own area, drawing the curtains after helping him settle into bed.

“he won’t deny it,” he says, as she’s moving to leave. “he’ll tell you the same thing. promise.”

when she looks back, her smile is gentle. “i’ll hold you to it.”

“i’ll do better,” he mumbles to the air, later on. “i’ll do better, so please, wake up soon.” he frowns, sniffing, as his emotions overwhelm him. “please wake up and come back to me. as long as you can do that, everything else will be okay.”

part 1 | notes

#writing #op #saboace #ywr/iwf #anyway//this is by far the most romantic thing ive ever written #even then its not rly there i still gotta long way to go #BUT some progress is better than none