#.. save tag

[incorrect-fnaf-quotes]

I have a request for HC's for Pittrap. Here's the scenario, he's come out of the pit and starts following a certain little girl, lets say she's like 5-6 years old. Girl has no idea the yellow bunny rabbit isn't supposed to be there, thinks it's her father who passed away before the girl was born, comes home to their house which isn't too far from Jeff's since the preschool let her walk home. Later (Reader) comes home who is a single mom and a schoolteacher for high school or something. She sees the rabbit and is actually seeing the rabbit, flips out, child insists it's her dad, mom knows he passed away. So teacher mom (reader) reacting to this scenario, she needs someone to keep an eye on her little girl, but at the same time like Oh crap giant bunny man appears what do I do and my child insists that this is her dad? Maybe they fall in love since he's actually a good rabbit dude and treats her(reader) well too. Also happy birthday once again!

Pittrap is a favorite to write for :) I kept the basics of the idea here- reader is a parent, reader has a kid, reader’s kid brings back the rabbit.

—

🐰|You’ve gotten used to, every once in a while, your kid bringing in an animal. Usually something small—like a bird.|🎾🕳

🐰|And today, it seems that your daughter brought something else inside, which normally wouldn’t be a problem...|🎾🕳

🐰|If not for the fact that what your daughter brought in was a tall, yellow rabbit animatronic, chilling in your living room.|🎾🕳

—

“Alright, what’s-“ As you lifted your head up, the remaining words immediately became trapped within your throat.

There, in your living room, was your daughter. Except, she wasn’t alone... that was easy to see.

She was sitting on the lap of a large, fuzzy thing—it resembled a rabbit, and it’s fur was yellow. It seemed somewhat metallic.

The main TV was on, and it seemed like your daughter had been in the middle of watching her favorite show with the rabbit thing.

Except, when you entered, her attention was pulled away towards you. So was the rabbit’s.

While your daughter cheerfully called you over, the rabbit waved.

—

🐰|The situation was already strange enough, and you certainly weren’t calm—you didn’t know why she was.|🎾🕳

🐰|Then, your kid just goes and calls the rabbit “dad”, and makes you even more confused—especially with her little explanation.|🎾🕳

🐰|One of the first things you do is take her, head to a neighbor, and bring them back—all while the rabbit watches this occur in confusion.|🎾🕳

🐰|You’re hoping that your neighbor could do... something, but to your surprise, they see no rabbit creature at all.|🎾🕳

—

When you’d finished with the chore, you’d returned to the living room, expecting to still see her sitting in there.

...Except, she wasn’t. She was nowhere in sight. Neither was the rabbit. And you could feel fear beginning to bubble up.

A distant noise caught your attention, and you whirled your head around. You couldn’t tell what it exactly was—it was far too muffled.

Yet, you had a good idea on where the source was coming from. Her room.

It didn’t take you very long to reach the bedroom, and you swung the door open. The light was off.

Stepping inside, the strange noise was louder. It almost sounded like... humming? Humming, that of which belonged to an old lullaby.

It came off as rather distorted, though. In the darkness, you stared ahead. The rabbit was kneeling beside your daughter’s bed.

It... was singing to her? And by the looks of it, by the fact that she seemed to be asleep, it was working?

“What?!” You threw your arms up, unsure of what to think about the situation.

The rabbit’s head turned, and the humming ceased. Facing you, he lifted a finger, and pressed it against his mouth.

—

🐰|In a matter of a few hours of his arrival, Pittrap had made your daughter a few snacks, made her brush her teeth, and put her to bed.|🎾🕳

🐰|You didn’t have “Animatronic rabbit appears in my home and starts acting fatherly to my daughter” on any bingo card.|🎾🕳

🐰|You’re still nervous and confused about this whole thing... but at least Pittrap is friendly. You couldn’t fight an animatronic.|🎾🕳

🐰|As the time goes by, Pittrap continues to help you out with her—which you do appreciate.|🎾🕳

🐰|At some point, you wake up to find your daughter sent off to whatever she had for the day, the house cleaned, and breakfast in bed.|🎾🕳

🐰|You still wonder where he came from, but Pittrap hasn’t revealed anything, and your daughter’s explanation on the initial day was vague.|🎾🕳

🐰|The longer Pittrap is around, the quicker you begin to realize that you may have some new developing feelings about the animatronic.|🎾🕳

🐰|...You’ll just see where this all heads.|🎾🕳

[feyres-divorce-lawyer]

Types of -Cide For Your Writing

Suicide - Act of killing yourself

Regicide - Act of killing a king or queen

Vaticide - Act of killing a prophet

Parricide - Act of killing any relative

Mariticide - Act of klling your husband

Uxoricide - Act of killing your wife

Siblicide - Act of killing your sibling

Sororicide - Act of killing your sister

Fratricide - Act of killng your brother

Matricide - Act of killing your mother

Filicide - Act of killing your child

Infanticide - Act of killing a child within their first year of life

Patricide - Act of killing your father

Avunculicide - Act of killing your uncle

Nepoticide - Act of killing your nephew

Amicide - Act of killing your friend

Senicide - Act of killing an elderly

Homocide - Act of killing a person

Pedicide - Act of killing children

Democide - Murder of a person or people by the government

Omnicide - Act of killing humans with intentions to make them extinct

Deicide - Act of killing a deity, divine being, or god

Mundicide - Act of killing a planet

[little-tyrant-gortash]

First of all: I'd love to have his pretty crossbow. Reminds me of the glass crossbow you can get in Skyrim through CC.

Secondly, 14 STR??? If Astarion looks like the way he does with 8, I really want to see that 14 STR. Y'know. For science.

His stats are simply insane. What the fuck, Gortash.

*spends 5 minutes rotating him around, purely to admire him*

Okay let's take a look at his features. I missed out on it when I first met him because I was busy running for Cazador's ass. 🤣

Resistant to magic AND high spellcasting? 👀 Permanently armed?? Unarmed attacks seem logical, but crossbow expert??? 👀

He's a fucking prize.

[kaibacorpstocksplit]

👏👏👏

[maxbuck]

most normal pins. a compilation ill update later pt 1

[starlightiing]

🤎 landoscah?

🤎 multiple kisses / kisses all over / kiss after kiss - Landoscar

Hi anon! Sorry to make you wait overnight for this one. I hope you enjoy it! <3

Lando wakes up to a flurry of affection against his neck. His eyes flutter open in a confused, groggy daze as his brain struggles to interpret his surroundings. His hotel room comes into focus, followed by the quiet sound of the television that he had forgotten to turn off before he passed out last night.

The final thing he registers is the warmth of soft kisses trailing along his jaw and down his neck. Huh.

"Mm, Osc?" he mumbles softly, as his consciousness begins to catch up with his waking brain. "That you?"

"Good morning." Oscar says in response, and his voice is barely above a whisper. Lando feels Oscar's lips moving against his neck as he speaks, and a quiet whimper is held at the back of his throat. "Did I wake you up?"

"Don't think so." Lando replies, turning his head slightly to look over at Oscar. The warm kisses have ceased, and Oscar is now laying with his head propped up on his arm as he looks up at Lando. There's a soft smile that curls the edges of his lips ever so slightly, but it's enough to get Lando's heartbeat running a tick faster. "But don't think I didn't feel you eating me up like I was breakfast."

Oscar laughs at that, something breathy and sweet that makes Lando's skin tighten with goosebumps all up his arms and around the back of his neck. "I would hardly define my affections as 'eating you up' but, I suppose you've caught me red-handed."

"You're damn right I have. And straight to prison with you, then. Any last words?"

Oscar grins up at him, his eyes full of light and love, and Lando can't help thinking that this man beside him is the most precious and treasured thing in the expanse of the universe.

"Yes, actually. I'm guilty as charged and hold no remorse for my crimes. Also, I will commit them again."

Oscar's lips are back on Lando's neck before Lando can even register the looming threat in his declaration. Instinctively, he tilts his head back to allow Oscar better access - and that whimper he had held back so expertly earlier comes parading out between his lips.

"Not faaaair," Lando whines, feeling the flicker of his pulse beat against the press of Oscar's lips, "You're a dirty criminal with dirty tricks. This is cheat-"

Lando's words are cut off as Oscar's gentle kisses change direction. Suddenly, instead of the warm barrage against his neck, Oscar's lips are pressed fervently against his own. Lando's voice trails off into a hum of surprise, but he reaches up to cup Oscar's face within both of his hands and he kisses back like his life depends on it.

And for all he's concerned, it absolutely does.

[itty-bitty-sunshine]

*CRASHES INTO ASK BOXES* HI! I love your two for one deal au! I'm always on the lookout for aus and fics about the DCA as dads! Star and Sunshine are so sweet, and funny, and wholesome, and cute and I love them so much!!!!!!!

HI HI!!!! So happy you like them!!! They gonna have more screen time soon <3 don't mind star he can be nice when he wants to

[phantasmiafxndom]

Your kny Pet!AU has given me some continuous brainrot that I need to get off my chest. Please feel free to ignore my rambling, this is not a request, since your requests are closed.

Hear me out: Do you know that large hunting cats do something called "mouthing affection"? It's a thing they do where they basically gently try to bite a person they like/trust. There's a lot of videos of like cougars and shit very gently biting a hand and letting these people hold their large fang tooth.

Now picture Akaza finally grown somewhat subconsciously comfortable with his situation to the point where he maybe just had his heat. He's still feeling a little woozy and desperate from the aftereffects and so so exhausted. Just altogether too vulnerable. You're coming in to get him something to drink and maybe a bite to eat. You're petting his head, not paying attention, and suddenly you feel teeth around your fingers. You turn around and see a physically and emotionally drained Akaza tiredly holding your fingers with his teeth, basically putting his large fang between your palm and your pointer finger, so you can hold it.

Again sorry to bother you. I had this weird thing floating around my brain for too many days and it wouldn't go away without being written.

Have a wonderful day 💓

Awwww, that is so cute!!! OAO "Mouthing affection" headcanon accepted! That'll definitely be turning up in a fic at some point now, so thank you for sharing~

[isometricsch]

Ignore my deadname I cannot get it changed in my state yet.

Hi this is a GFM for my very close friend who is like a brother to me who we are desperately trying to move here as their parents are shitty and are going to kick them out as soon as they turn 21(which is in March)

reblogs will help a bunch and donat1ons are greatly appreciated!

(please dont rb with d0n0 tags Tumblr is shit)

[saintbleeding]

Was thinking about your designs for Jon and Martin all day and just had to draw em. Couldn’t quite nail Martin but I think I got close

[id: a digital sketch of my jon and martin designs with their arms around each other. martin is smooching jon's cheek and jon's eyes are closed with a blissful expression on his face. they are surrounded by love hearts. end id.]

UM HELLO EXCUSE ME??? THIS IS???????? i am so dewy-eyed and soft at this and it is my fave thing i have ever seen and will ever see thank u goodnight

[cyber-streak-2]

Finally decided to talk about my Fan Continuity again—mainly with revealing the rest of the characters that I just haven’t mentioned yet. But with this one, I’m going to put everyone together—ones I’ve already mentioned (with new bits), and the ones I haven’t yet.

Again, really everyone is still around (besides a few), but these ones are all the more main ones.

I would’ve done this sooner, but I just kept forgetting.

Autobots:

—

1: Optimus Prime: They/Them/Themself, He/Him/Himself, (FtM):

The leader of the Autobots, who, only a short time ago—three months, to be exact, had still been Orion Pax. However, that changed thanks to the Matrix of Leadership, changing them into a Prime.

Residing on Earth with his Autobots, Optimus Prime is still grieving over the loss of their Conjunx Endura, Elita-1, while quickly growing protective of the others, and promising to stop the Decepticons—not wanting anybody else to suffer.

—

2: Wheeljack: He/Him/Himself, They/Them/Themself, She/Her/Herself:

One of the most well known Autobot Scientists... and in general, despite the known fact that a lot of their inventions tend to malfunction or blow up in his face. Although, they are still one of the only remaining ones on Earth.

They stick around, helping out the other Autobots, but the scientist has some... issues, that they’ve been trying to fix for a while.

Shortly after the arrival to Earth, Ratchet and the Dinobots suddenly went missing, with Wheeljack making it his personal mission to find them. All while dealing with an unfortunate change that happened because of an encounter with a ‘Con, and one of her inventions.

—

3: Ambulon: They/Them/Themself:

The only remaining Cybertronian medic that resides on Earth—due to First Aid’s death back on Cybertron, a... situation, involving Pharma, and Ratchet’s disappearance not all that long ago.

After leaving the Decepticons, and officially becoming an Autobot some time before leaving Cybertron, they discover that some treat them far better than how others treat Mirage, another former Decepticon.

Shortly after the switch, Ambulon suffered permanent damage, which still affects them in some ways, they remain a medic, helping their fellow Autobots. They can’t fight anymore, though.

—

4: Mirage: He/Him/Himself, They/Them/Themself, She/Her/Herself:

An outlier with the ability to turn invisible, as well as creating holograms of anything. While Mirage may be an Autobot now, back before the arrival on the new planet, they had originally started out as a Decepticon.

Despite the side that they are on now, Mirage takes notice to certain Autobots who just... seem to not trust her, or like her—considering him a spy—which doesn’t help when Mirage has been a little... suspicious, as of late.

They are tired of all of this.

—

5: Cliffjumper: He/Him/Himself, (FtM):

An Autobot who, while seeming to have trouble trusting others—fellow Autobots included—seems to trust Mirage the least. He doesn’t want anything to do with them, but she’s still with the team... and the two keep getting put together.

Shortly after arriving on Earth, Cliffjumper was captured, and during that time, clones were made of him—all planned on being used as soldiers for the Decepticons. Which... leads into moments (quite often) where he and the clones are easily mistaken.

Cliffjumper has been shot at more times than he can count because of this.

—

6: Pipes: He/Him/Himself, She/Her/Herself:

An Autobot who had originally been a very excellent spy... until she made a horrible mistake, and the Decepticons figured out who Pipes really was, and what he had been doing among them.

Now fully back with the Autobots, Pipes is on a lengthy road of recovery from being crushed after the Decepticons figured everything out. Despite not being able to do much, the minibot is still trying to find ways to help... and to not worry anyone with some other problems.

—

7: Scrounge: They/Them/Themself:

An Autobot who... well... nobody can exactly remember too much about them—Scrounge died years ago during the earlier days of the war, but stuck around with everyone as a ghost—but it doesn’t seem like anyone can see them.

Scrounge has obtained several tasks that they want to accomplish:

1: Find Blaster—they learned from listening to the others that he went missing, alongside others.

2: Discover a way to let the others see and hear them... maybe they could try possession?

3: Find their arm—they lost it right before their death, and has constantly been wanting to finally try and retrieve it.

4: Finally join the After/Allspark.

—

8: Sunstreaker: It/It’s/Itself:

An Autobot who, upon it learning of the others suddenly disappearing, never thought too much of it (except for happiness when involving the Decepticons). But then it’s brother disappears, too, and Sunstreaker decides to do something about it.

Aside from trying to figure out where it’s brother is, Sunstreaker can’t help but feel like it’s being... drawn. To where? To who? It doesn’t know. It’s just trying to take in the sights and find it’s sibling—the strange feeling can wait.

—

9: Rewind: He/Him/Himself, (FtM):

An Autobot who is seen typically recording—but for a while, he wasn’t seen at all. Like Ratchet and the rest, his fellow Autobots assumed he was taken—except he seemed to be the only one who returned.

Although, Rewind claims that he doesn’t remember anything—nothing is recorded, either. So, perhaps something else happened... but there is certainly something off about how he’s been acting since he returned. Rewind doesn’t want to talk, though.

—

10: Dinobot: They/Them/Themself:

Originally a neutral for a good half of the war, Dinobot eventually became an Autobot after a few things happened—including a chat with Optimus Prime. They know a few of the Decepticons personally.

Despite knowing all of the more major issues—dealing with the Decepticons, finding who all is missing, etc—Dinobot is dealing with a more personal thing, and seems to frequently disappear.

—

11: Ultra Magnus/Minimus Ambus: She/Her/Herself, It/It’s/Itself:

The Second in Command to the Autobots, and close to Optimus Prime—the two having known each other from years before the war ever started.

Ever since others started disappearing, among all of the other problems, Ultra Magnus has been... really stressed. She hopes that she can get to the bottom of this.

—

Humans:

—

1: Andie Gray: She/Her/Herself, He/Him/Himself:

A human who, while on his way to get to his college classes, stumbled across a fight between the Autobots and Decepticons. Despite trying to ignore all of that, she still ends up getting roped into everything.

After a more proper introduction, Wheeljack is made her guardian. And despite the fact that he’s more focused on personal life things, he still sticks around, and decides to help the scientist out.

Andie communicates through sign language.

—

2: “Raven” (Real Name Unknown): Any Pronouns:

A younger human who, while running around, stumbled across a long-gone Cybertronian, and Censere—who hadn’t expected to be seen—neither of them had expected this to happen.

After an introduction, with Raven giving a fake name, the two decide to stick with each other... but there are things that she doesn’t plan on telling Censere—like how he’s hiding.

—

Other:

Rampage: It/It’s/Itself:

Rampage (or “X” to some), used to be held in some sort of facility in another Universe, before it had a chance to escape—taking it, which led it both out of the facility and out of that Universe, ending up in a new one.

It shortly meets Transmutate—who isn’t the one it vaguely knew from the other Universe—who also seemed to have gone through a similar situation.

Teaming up and sticking together, the two have to worry about... a lot, such as others from each of their universes coming to catch the two—especially Transmutate.

—

Transmutate: She/Her/Herself, It/It’s/Itself, They/Them/Themself:

She was originally held in an old facility somewhere in a different universe, before hurriedly taking a chance to escape—quickly discovering that, after jumping through a portal, that it led them to another universe, too.

After arriving, it quickly met Rampage—a different one—yet it also seemed to go through a similar situation. The two decide to team up and stick together... but there’s a lot to worry about.

It has abilities that it cannot control.

—

Censere/The Necrobot: They/Them/Themself:

Censere... or as everyone else knows them as, The Necrobot—a neutral who seems to catalogue the deceased—yet also thought to not exist.

Residing on Earth, they were alone... until a young human managed to spot them while they were listing a Cybertronian off. At first, they thought that would be it—but the two kept seeing each other, and eventually, the two made the decision to stick together.

—

Krok: He/Him/Himself, (FtM):

A Monoformer that is haunted by events from his past—which causes him to see... spirits (those are real?)—and the leader of a small group called “The Scavengers”. Years before the others, he first met Spinister, after the surgeon repaired him.

His time with everyone has, so far, been... chaotic, that’s for sure. But, it quickly becomes worse when, after a visit to a planet, they all discover that they are being tracked and chased—but nobody knows why or by who.

—

Spinister: They/Them/Themself, It/It’s/Itself:

Spinister, a rather strange (in everyone else’s optics) surgeon, who, years ago, ran into a severely damaged Krok. It didn’t know who did this—but it never asked. After fixing him, Spinister never left.

Out of everyone, they notice how Krok seems to understand them the best—but it’s still somewhat a mystery to the monoformer—there are certain things that Spinister keeps to themselves.

However, one thing that is known, yet still a mystery... is that Spinister seems to see and hear the spirits that hang around Krok. Yet nobody else can.

—

Misfire: Any Pronouns:

Misfire doesn’t remember much of anything—and he isn’t all that sure on the reason why. But, they do know that they have a terrible shot... everyone learns that quickly.

It’s the newest member, the others having met her and vise versa after the flier got into some trouble at the bar the others were visiting, before joining.

He’s not all that worried about what they can’t remember.

—

Crankcase: No Pronouns:

Crankcase, a Pilot, who before joining the Scavengers (being the third to join), used to be a member of the DJD—but has no intention on telling any of the others this—figuring that it doesn’t matter.

The only explanation Crankcase has ever given them was that the pilot used to work for someone, before deciding to leave—but when doing so, was wounded—receiving the nasty head wound.

Kaon and Vos were the cause of it.

—

Fulcrum: They/Them/Themself, He/Him/Himself:

Fulcrum, a Decepticon who... isn’t all that sure on what he was doing in an old, seemingly abandoned, lab—which was where he ended up meeting the others—being the fourth to join.

Unlike Misfire later on, they can remember everything... except for anything involving the lab—they just can’t remember why they were there, or their time in it. They... feel weird, and can no longer transform, among other unfortunate details.

While dealing with the chaos of the Scavengers, they slowly start to realize why they were there...

—

Decepticons:

—

1: Starscream: No Pronouns:

A Decepticon, who, originally, was the Second in Command, even after everyone arrived on Earth. But, when Megatron suddenly disappeared without a trace, Starscream finally became the leader, much to the disappointment of the other Decepticons.

Starscream is going to make sure everything stays like this.

—

2: Soundwave: They/Them/Themself, It/It’s/Itself:

Originally the Third in Command, they became the new SiC after Megatron’s disappearance, and when Starscream became the new leader... which is quite unfortunate.

They were the first to notice everything happening—other Cybertronians just disappearing without a trace, for example—not just Megatron. Ratchet, Wheeljack’s Dinobots, all of its minicons...

Deciding to get to the bottom of this, Soundwave starts digging—wanting to find its true leader and its minicons.

—

3: Thundercracker: He/Him/Himself, (FtM):

After Megatron’s disappearance, with Starscream becoming the new leader, and Soundwave becoming the new SiC, Thundercracker found himself with the position of the new TiC.

Ever since he’d arrived on Earth, among the more major situations, the Decepticons have noticed how strange he’s been ever since... practically the first day.

Sure, they know certain things—like how he created a film once, a month or two after the arrival. But... what’s going on now? Thundercracker wants to keep it a secret—he doesn’t want anything bad to happen—or, more simply, for anyone to be bothered.

—

4: Megatron: Any Pronouns:

The original leader of the Decepticons, and an old friend of Optimus Prime’s before the war—having considered the mech like a younger brother in a way. They were still around during the first month on Earth... but then something happened.

Megatron doesn’t know what’s happening. Doesn’t know that it’s not just him that’s missing. Doesn’t know where he is. Everything feels weird.

He’s not sure what’s going on, but she’s going to escape—after all, knowing Starscream most likely became the leader... it’s not going to let that remain for much longer... and it’s not going to let anyone else destroy the Prime.

—

5: Tracks: He/Him/Himself, She/Her/Herself, They/Them/Themself:

A Decepticon who had been a spy for some time... and was also the first one to discover that there was another spy—Pipes, and informed the others so that they could deal with the minibot.

After a few weeks of being on Earth, Tracks ran into a human... and although she’s a little iffy about humans in general (but doesn’t necessarily hate them), they really like this one—a lot.

The other Decepticons know of what is going on—but don’t exactly do anything about it—there’s more important things to worry about.

—

6: Tarantulas: He/Him/Himself, (FtM):

A Decepticon scientist with a beast-mode—others typically stay out of his way, only coming to the mech if they absolutely need to—nobody approached him at all the day that his creation went missing.

Throughout most of his time on Cybertron, he spent his time working on another Cybertronian—a son—who others heard Tarantulas refer to him as “Ostaros”.

On Earth, Tarantulas discovered that Ostaros was just.. gone—he vanished. Unsure where to start, Tarantulas teams up with Soundwave, wanting to find his son—but not really caring about the others that are missing.

—

7: Nightbird: She/Her/Herself, (MtF):

A robot, but not exactly a Cybertronian—she was created by Tarantulas shortly after arriving on Earth, but the scientist had no clue what to really use her for... but, after Ostaros went missing, Tarantulas and Soundwave decided to use her for assistance.

Nightbird is still getting used to, and processing, a lot of things—she hasn’t been alive for all that long. She considers Tarantulas her father.

—

8: Red Alert: He/Him/Himself, (FtM):

A Decepticon who... nobody has exactly seen much of—mainly as of recently. The others decide not to bother him—none of them know what to do, but they figure it has something to do with everything that has been happening recently.

Red Alert typically stays back in his quarters... unsure of what to do about the situation(s) in front of everyone. He wants to help, but is terrified of disappearing, too—what if one of his fellow Decepticons is causing it? It could practically be anyone who is causing all of this—which is unfortunate.

But, he wants to figure it all out.

—

9: Makeshift: It/It’s/Itself:

Another robot—but not exactly a Cybertronian—who was created by Tarantulas back on Cybertron—also considering the scientist a father. Thanks to Tarantulas, it is able to shapeshift into any Cybertronian.

It doesn’t care all that much on the situation that’s going on, but even if it did, it’s more focused on its current mission—pretending to be one of the Autobots.

—

10: Jazz: She/Her/Herself, He/Him/Himself:

A former Autobot, but something happened back on Cybertron to make her leave and join the Decepticons—something that he prefers not to speak about, and something that the others don’t ask about.

While she’s not exactly a medic, she still has enough medical skills to be considered one—and he has a lot to do, considering that the others come back wounded a lot.

—

11: Skybyte: They/Them/Themself:

A Decepticon with a beast mode—shark, to be exact—and a Decepticon who isn’t all that sure on what’s going on. They know of the war and similar things... but, they accidentally got into a pod years ago, and ended up on Earth way before the others.

They were awoken by Jazz and Tracks after the two found them, and brought back to the current base. Skybyte is still surprised by everything that’s happening—which nobody told them about for a while, having forgotten.

Skybyte never really fights, spending time on other activities and projects.

—

Tags: @aecholapis @bramble-b0t @novafire-is-thinking @kawareo @critcallylowhp

[incorrect-fnaf-quotes]

Oswald went to the Pizzaplex once—some friends were going, and he managed to convince his mom to let him go. But someone else had to accompany him.

So, he went with some friends, while Spring Bonnie/Pittrap was also going—the rabbit has to make sure his son is fine, after all.

The day the visit happens, Oswald ends up running into Gregory for a second, who is just like: “Hey, what’s up with that rabbit with you??”

And Oswald is struck with surprise at the fact that this random boy he just met seems to be the only one, aside from his cat, that can tell the difference.

[nervoustoastthing]

prepare for Annabeth angst fic

muhahahaha

[foundationsofdecay]

Okay, I've finally made a list of most of my Sleep Token lore and analysis posts! Divided by categories under the cut, with improvised titles and brief descriptions for each.

Posts are listed in reverse-chronological order per category, except for crossovers.

The catch-all hashtag for these is #aqua's offerings, in case you prefer to look through them that way.

Longer Form Posts:

Duck Into Deep Blue Safety - Comparing the composition of Drag Me Under, Atlantic, and Fall For Me as to how solos are used to describe physical isolation, separation, and the spectrum bridging spiritual wholeness and estrangement.

Show Me What Wounds You've Got - On begging, emotional vulnerability, and our agency as audience and character.

If a Man Falls, and Nobody's There to Hear Him... - An addition-by-reblog to this post by @melit0n about Fall For Me, continuing the exploration of silence and vocals and the implications of Vessel's isolation and actions in the song.

So He Gets To Die A Saint - Martyrdom and the desire to save and be saved, but the uncertainty of who is saving who, and to what end.

Something Was Between You and I My Dear - Musings on the theory posited by @a-s-levynn that separates Vessel as his masked self and as his unmasked self into two separate characters, and what that means for a potential reading of the events of the trilogy, particularly its ending.

I Would Turn Into A Stranger In An Instant if I Could - A deep dive into DYWTYLM with themes of identity loss and the effects of a long-term yet one-sided relationship.

Flood Me Like Atlantic - An examination of the metaphor of being dragged into and under someone's love throughout the course of the discography, and how it reflects in the shifting characterization of both Vessel and the character being sung about.

Would You Invite Me In Again? - A look at cycles of union and disconnect, of love as a melding of body and soul in addition to a rending of body and soul, and the cyclical nature of this dichotomy, primarily through the lens of Drag Me Under and Blood Sport.

So Let's Play - A look into how the language of games and winners and losers is used and evolves throughout their discography.

With My Love as Your Garden - Exploring the lyrics regarding flowers and gardens, of upkeep and of fire, and how it relates to the relationship between Vessel and his lover, described here as Sleep.

Welcome Me In, Deep Into You - Side-by-side examination of Vore and Drag Me Under and their language as it pertains to consumption and consummation, and the respective tones those carry.

Drag Me Under AGAAAAAIN - An addendum to my second Sleep Token x TDH crossover post (linked further below) that brings Drag Me Under into the fold of Atlantic and Telomeres, as requested by @moonchild-in-blue. Elaborates further on the entwining of Vessel and Sleep, of their love and the idea of inevitability.

Duet - Proposing and elaborating on the concept of the song Give being a duet between Vessel and Sleep with alternating POVs.

Other Other Eye - A look at Ascensionism, particularly the lines regarding eyes and attention and conflicting desire. [note: written very early into my posting theory/analysis, somewhat outdated]

Catching a Falling Knife - Using the metaphor of "catching a falling knife" and the general stock market as lens to examine the power dynamics between Vessel and Sleep.

Mini Musings:

Rain Can't Wash Away the Tar on the Inside - Consideration of the lyrics implying Vessel has been trapped by tar and subsumed in it both from the outside and from within.

Keep an Eye on the Road - A quick talk about visuals of crashing cars and mentions of various roadways, and being trapped in untenable situations.

The Vicious Cycle - Cycles and the breaking thereof within the discography.

My Puppet Queen - The dehumanizing language used towards Vessel, specifically as a toy or object.

Glitches in the Code - Considers Vessel as a literal algorithm, and how that reflects in his vocals and degeneration throughout the narrative and what it would say about his relationship with Sleep.

Mirror Talk - Notes on mirrors and both outer and inner reflections.

Are You Watching Me? - Different ways eyes are described as it relates to prey and predation, and Vessel struggling with human nature and humanity.

A Different Harbor - Musing on the peculiar use and otherwise of language regarding boats, harbors, and anchors.

You Want Someone To Be - Concept post about a more literal take on lovers entwined, to both want to become the other, and the loss of understanding of what it means to be yourself without them.

Crossovers:

TDH x Sleep Token #1 - Love as a crashing wave, questions of fate, choosing love despite the clear doomed nature, using The Dear Hunter's Waves as a frame of reference.

TDH x Sleep Token #2 - Uses The Dear Hunter's Vital Vessels Vindicate as a lens to provide a different perspective through which to examine Vessel, death, and what it means to choke and suffocate underwater.

[maxbuck]

image my best friend made for me about jericho

[starlightiing]

|| Car Crash Hearts || Pierresteban || 1/2 ||

Title: Car Crash Hearts (AO3)

Rating: M

Warnings: Car accident, hospitals, angst, whump (mental and physical), ect ect.

Graphic credit: @watercolor-hearts <3

Pairing: Pierre Gasly & Esteban Ocon. (Side Esteban/Male OC and Charles Leclerc/Male OC).

“Pierre - what? Why are you calling me? I do not have anything to do with him.” “You were listed as his only emergency contact, sir. If you would please -” “No,” Esteban interjects, waving his hands about as if she can actually see him, “No, no. There’s a mistake here or something. I can give you a different number to call, but I do not have anything to do with him.” Or: Tragedy strikes for Pierre one week ahead of the Austin GP. Esteban is left with no choice but to pick up the pieces in the aftermath.

When Esteban’s eyes flutter open, the room is dark. The curtains are pulled tightly across the hotel room window, but even through the cracks and creases in the fabric, Esteban can tell it's just as dark outside as it is inside the room. This means it is nowhere near morning yet, and the option to roll back over onto his side and sneak in a few more hours of sleep is tantalizing to his groggy brain. 

To his left, Esteban can hear Gabriel’s gentle breathing, slow and steady, and can reasonably conclude that he is still tossed far into the wiles of slumber as well. Sucking in a breath, Esteban rolls himself over onto his left side and drapes an arm delicately across Gabriel’s hips as to not disturb his peaceful sleep. His eyes fall shut once more, and the rhythm of Gabriel’s breathing up against the weary pull of sleep work together to push him further and further into a state of unconsciousness himself.

That is, of course, until the harsh and frantic ‘buzz’ of Esteban’s cellphone cuts through the otherwise serene silence.

In his half-aware state, Esteban cracks only one eye open slightly, as if it would somehow sharpen his senses to the noise coming from his bedside table. He doesn’t know exactly what time it is - just how early or how late into the night or morning it could possibly be, but phone calls between this window are rare and, dare he suggest it, aggravating. He groans slightly, picking his head up from the pillow and pulling his arm back from around Gabriel’s waist. The soft motions come with a sharp intake of breath from Gabriel, who almost immediately pops open both eyes and furrows his brows in tired confusion.

“Babe, your phone.” Gabriel says, his voice gravelly and low. “Who the fuck is calling at…” a soft glow of light comes from Esteban’s left, where he notices Gabriel has turned on his own phone. “Two in the morning?”

“Fuck if I know. Hold on.” Esteban hoists himself up to a sitting position in the bed, running a hand over his face to try and wake himself up a bit more. He reaches over and swipes his phone from the table, eyes snapping immediately to the caller information. To his confusion, the number isn’t one that is registered in his contacts. The area information reads ‘Austin, TX’ with an American phone number printed beneath, but no further insight into who this mystery caller is. Now that his curiosity has reached an all time high (and perhaps a bit of nervous dread is mixed in as well), Esteban accepts the phone call and presses the speaker button so Gabriel can listen in as well. “Hello?”

“Hello. Is this a mister Esteban Ocon?” greets a disinterested voice from the other end of the line. Esteban can hear quite a commotion in the background behind her, and something inside his stomach begins to churn.

“Yes, who is this?”

“I’m calling from Saint David’s North Austin Medical Center in regards to Pierre Gasly.” 

Esteban’s eyes widen in disbelief. He steals a glance over at Gabriel, eyebrows furrowed in confusion and even a hint of anger, only to find a very similar expression painted across his face as well. 

“Pierre - what? Why are you calling me? I do not have anything to do with him.”

“You were listed as his only emergency contact, sir. If you would please -”

“No,” Esteban interjects, waving his hands about as if she can actually see him, “No, no. There’s a mistake here or something. I can give you a different number to call, but I do not have anything to do with him.”

“Sir-” the woman sounds annoyed now, a bit louder and more insistent, “There was an accident, and we are required to make phone calls to all listed emergency contacts. I cannot call a random phone number you give me due to American HIPAA laws in place to protect Pierre’s privacy. Are you able to come up to the hospital with proof of identity within the next few hours?” 

“I -” at a loss for words, Esteban locks his gaze with Gabriel, who is beginning to look less irritated and more concerned with every passing second. “What did you say was the name of this hospital again?”

“Saint David’s North Austin Medical Center.” 

“I’m looking it up.” Gabriel says softly, pulling his phone back out and tapping aggressively at the screen. Flashes of color illuminate the room as Gabriel switches from google to google maps, and Esteban leans over to get a glimpse of their position in regards to the hospital. “It’s only fifteen minutes. We can go.” “Uh, yes, yes, I can come. Can you just - is he…is he alive?” Esteban’s voice comes out small and meek, almost like a scolded child who has just served a most unjust time-out. His stomach is flopping about even more viciously now, and all of the anger that had boiled his blood only minutes ago is dissipating into anxious energy. Pierre is not his friend, but that does not mean Esteban wants anything bad to happen to him.

“I cannot divulge any further information over the phone, Mr. Ocon. Once you get here and prove your identity, we’ll be able to give you a much more detailed overview of the situation. We’ll see you soon.”

The ‘click’ of the other line disconnecting and the immediate three-beep ‘dropped call’ tone sounds in Esteban’s ears before he can even finish processing the woman’s words. His phone dims now that it’s no longer in use, and it slides from his knee as Gabriel shifts the mattress to stand to his feet. Esteban, still in shock, looks up at Gabriel and blindly follows his motions by lifting himself off of the bed as well. He is going to need his keys, his phone, his wallet, his passport, what little bit of American cash he has on him, and -

“Hey, Este, it’s okay.” comes Gabriel’s voice, now closer to him than Esteban remembers them being moments ago. A warm hand comes to rest on his shoulder, and he sucks in a deep breath to try and regain his bearings. “It sounds like protocol to me from the hospital. I am sure Pierre is okay, and you can add this to the list of shit he owes you for, right?”

“Right.” Esteban’s voice is tense, but he does find the strength to offer the barest smile at Gabriel’s efforts to calm his racing thoughts. “That asshole.”

“That asshole, yes. Now get dressed and hand me your keys, you are not driving right now.”

It is a welcome relief that comes with Gabriel’s words. Driving, of course, is more than second nature - almost as involuntary as breathing to someone like Esteban - even when stress and conflict and feelings are built up into a tight ball in his chest the way they are now. But to have the privilege of handing that responsibility off, well, he would take that in a heartbeat. And so he does.

“Here,” he says, grabbing the keys from his side table and tossing them over into Gabriel’s expectant hands, “Go on ahead. I will meet you outside so I can just jump in the car and we can go. Get the GPS ready and all that.”

“Yes, boss.” Gabriel shots back with a mock American salute, earning a half-hearted chuckle from Esteban in the process. He is out the door within seconds and as soon as Esteban hears the click of the strike, he lets out a massive breath that feels far too heavy in his lungs.

Surely, he thinks, Pierre will be fine. It was probably a stupid, drunken stint at a fancy club down the road from their hotel that may have landed him a broken nose or a harmless concussion. Surely, in two hours time Esteban will be curling back into bed with Gabriel to catch up on the precious sleep they missed while being Pierre’s babysitters. Pierre has been looking particularly forward to the American Grand Prix, as Esteban had overheard in the garage after their last race, so it would only make sense if he had gone out and partied with Yuki and some of the other drivers that had flown in a week early as well.

At least that is what he is going to tell himself for now, as he shrugs into an Alpine t-shirt he had discarded on the floor earlier that night, aptly strewn beside a pair of dark jeans that will suit this spontaneous hospital trip just fine. Once he finishes dressing, he grabs his passport from his bedside table along with his wallet and one of his watches, and then his phone from the middle of the bed where it has slid off of his knee a few minutes prior. 

‘Coming downstairs now. Have the car ready by check in.’ Esteban types sloppily on his phone, not caring to check for any errors as he hastily sends the message to Gabriel and all but jogs down three flights of stairs and out to the lobby, where if he garners a strange look or two from the late night desk clerks, he pays absolutely no mind.

As expected, Gabriel already has the car pulled around under the awning of the hotel check-in lane when Esteban bursts through the doors and into the night. Humidity hits him like a brick wall as soon as he steps outside, the air feeling heavy in his lungs as he rushes forward towards the passenger door.

“I have to make a phone call to Charles, do you have everything you need on your phone to get us there?” Esteban asks, slamming the passenger door shut behind him. Gabriel hits the gas hard enough for Esteban to jolt forward, but he pays it barely any mind as he quickly squirms himself into his seat belt and pulls up his contact list on his phone.

“Don’t worry about anything, Esteban, do what you need to do.” Gabriel replies firmly, his voice tender and full of a kindness that works to help ease the nerves Esteban feels swirling around in his chest. 

He tells himself, yet again, that Pierre is fine. He probably just hurt himself doing something stupid while he was drunk, and as soon as they get there, they can load him up into the car and take him back to the hotel without much of a fuss. Nonetheless, he can’t manage to shake this feeling of dread clawing its way up the back of his spine and into his chest. He swallows thickly, swiping his finger down his screen until he finds the contact name he was looking for. He taps Charles Leclerc’s name with a trembling finger, and then brings the phone up to his ear.

It takes Charles nearly four rings to answer, though Esteban can not blame him given how early in the morning it is. In fact, he is surprised Charles even answers at all.

“Someone had better be dying.” Comes Charles’ groggy voice on the other end of the line. And oh, the irony of his statement - if he only knew. Esteban heaves an unsteady breath into his lungs to clear those thoughts out of his mind; Pierre will be fine, no one is dying. But the rate of his own heartbeat and the tension in his chest would say otherwise - and Charles’ offhand greeting does not do Esteban’s anxiety any favors.

“Good morning to you too, Charles.” Esteban shoots back, working to keep his tone any semblance of ‘normal’ as to not worry Charles unnecessarily. “Hopefully no one is dying, but I got a phone call regarding Pierre.”

The other line is silent for a moment too long, long enough for Esteban to wonder if perhaps Charles has fallen back asleep. He finally hears distant shuffling in the background, followed by a very sleepy groan.

“What about Pierre?”

“The hospital nearby gave me a call. Apparently I am still his emergency contact.” Esteban informs him tensely, drowning out the sound of Gabriel’s GPS as the shrill voice spits out instructions towards the hospital. “I don’t know the details, they will not tell me this over the phone. I am heading there now to find out what happened. I thought maybe it would be good that you knew, just in case.”

“Just in case what?” Charles asks, and his voice sounds much clearer and steady now. “Did they say it was bad?”

“They told me nothing at all, Charles. It’s some sort of American law or something, I don’t really know. You are staying at the same hotel as Pierre, no?” Esteban’s words are a bit frantic, perhaps even laced with an involuntary bite of annoyance. Already, the conversation has dragged on for longer than he wanted. The car can only move so quickly and yet it feels too slow, as well. Esteban is pitched forward in his seat, almost like he’s ready to jump out at any given moment. If he could just focus his attention -

“Yes,” Charles answers curtly, and his anxiety is almost palpable through the phone. Esteban would commiserate with Charles right now, if only he had the space in his chest for it. “Tell me the hospital he is at and I will be there as quickly as I can.” “How about I text it to you? I will send you the directions and everything.”

“That’s fine. Let me know as soon as you hear anything about Pierre.”

“I will,” Esteban replies, feeling more anticipation and anxiety build in his chest as Gabriel finally turns the car into the parking lot for the hospital. “We are here, so I should know something soon. I will call you in a few moments.”

“Good, thank you.” 

The call drops almost immediately, so Esteban lowers the phone from his ear and works on unfastening his seat belt so he can be out of the car as soon as Gabriel parks it. The hospital is far larger than any of the medical centers he is used to seeing - even the parking deck goes up more levels than he can comprehend. Thankfully, at this time of night, the normal visitor parking out in front of the hospital has some empty space, so Esteban watches as Gabriel pulls the car into the closest spot he can find.

“Go, go go, I will catch up.” Gabriel says, urging Esteban out the door as soon as the tires come screeching to a halt. Esteban nods, offering a grateful pat to Gabriel’s shoulder before opening the door and darting out into the humid night. He loops around the back of the car, breaking out into a light jog as he makes his way towards the entrance of the hospital.

Around him, it is surprisingly peaceful. There are lights in the parking lot that keep the area well-lit, and he can see a few nurses and other hospital staff huddled around a bench for a ten-minute smoke break off in the distance. Otherwise, the night is eerily still and quiet in a way that Esteban did not realize America could be.

It feels like it does not bode well.

As he approaches the entrance to the hospital, the automatic doors part with a quiet hum and he doesn’t even need to slow his pace. He continues his jog right up to the front desk, where an employee is typing furiously on her computer. She hardly looks up when he approaches.

“Can I help you?” she asks, eyes still fastened on her computer screen. Esteban clears his throat to try and keep his voice level and even, before reaching into his pocket to pull out his passport.

“Yes, my name is Esteban Ocon. I was called by someone from this hospital maybe twenty or thirty minutes ago because I am an emergency contact for Pierre Gasly. I was told to come with proof of my identity so I could get an update on his condition.” Esteban explains carefully, opening his passport up and pushing it forward on the desk. 

She finally looks away from her screen and gently takes his passport, reading the information and studying his photo before looking back up and making eye contact with him. “Thank you, Mr. Ocon. Give me just a moment to pull up his information. You said his name was what?”

“Pierre Gasly.” He says, feeling anticipation rise up into his throat now that he’s so close to knowing what’s going on. His heart is thumping quickly in his chest, and he shoves his hands in his pockets to keep them from trembling. It's funny, really, just how nervous he is - he keeps trying to tell himself that it is nothing major, that Pierre just did something stupid during a drunken night of fun with his friends. But Esteban can feel something tense in the air - he can feel the dread churching his stomach and even though he hopes he’s wrong, he fears this may be worse than even he can imagine.

“Pierre Gasly, yes, it seems he’s currently in the ICU with very limited visitation. I will page his doctor to come talk to you about his condition, and then you can be taken to see him.” the receptionist informs him, her voice calm and even, as if she hadn’t just told Esteban that the person he’s here to see is in the intensive care unit. As if that isn’t one of the most devastating things you could tell someone.

Esteban’s breath halts in his lungs, and a cold feeling washes over him that starts at his temples and drags all the way down to the tips of his toes. The ICU - the most critical place Pierre could possibly be. His heart feels strained as it beats even faster, and if he had not been leaning against the front desk so heavily, he might have stumbled over in shock.

“I - thank you. Thank you.” He sputters, taking one of his hands out of his pocket to grab his passport back from the woman. Her eyes finally flash a hint of sympathy as she looks him over. He must look just as terrified as he feels. “Can I - is there a place to sit?”

“Of course, go down to the right a bit and there’s a waiting area. I’ll call you up when the doctor arrives, okay? It shouldn’t take too long.”

Esteban nods, stuffing his passport back into his pocket and pulling in a shaky breath. At that moment, he sees a flash of movement to his left, and Gabriel is at his side in an instant.

“Hey,” he whispers, grabbing onto Esteban’s shoulders. “You are shaking. What happened?”

Esteban leans back into Gabriel with perhaps a bit too much of his bodyweight, swallowing a mouthful of emotions back as he stumbles to take a step forward. He feels Gabriel’s grip on his shoulders tighten, holding him firmly to keep him from swaying.

“Pierre is in the intensive care unit.” Esteban chokes out, the tightness in his chest only growing as the reality of the situation bears down on him. His mind can only race with possibilities now of what could have happened to Pierre - especially so early in the morning, with no one else around. Did someone hurt him? Had he been in an accident? 

“Oh my god. What happened to him?” Gabriel asks, gently leading Esteban down the short hallway towards the waiting area. “Did they tell you?”

Slowly, Esteban finds himself maneuvered into a chair. He stretches his legs out and turns onto his side, the side where Gabriel sits next to him, and reaches for his hand. Gabriel is more than happy to offer his hand in response, giving Esteban’s a little squeeze of support. 

“They did not say yet. I have to wait for the doctor to come down and talk with me. But…this means it is very serious. I thought it would be something stupid, like a broken nose or maybe even a concussion or something.” Esteban squeezes his eyes shut and takes a deep breath, holding it in his lungs for a few seconds before exhaling it out sharply. “Oh fuck, I did not text Charles.”

He worms his free hand around in the pocket opposite his passport, grabbing his phone out with little struggle. He quickly presses his thumb against the fingerprint scanner, and scrolls through a series of old conversations until he finds one with Charles from over a month ago.

His hand is shaking so badly, he nearly misses clicking on Charles’ name three times.

“Baby, do you want me to do it?” Gabriel suggests, his breath warm against the crown of Esteban’s forehead where he is resting his lips. Esteban sighs, surrendering his phone over and resting the weight of his head against Gabriel’s. 

“Do not tell Charles that Pierre is in the ICU. I do not want him driving here worried. He just needs directions to the hospital.” Esteban tells him gently. Gabriel hums in acknowledgement, and Esteban listens to the soft sound of the phone keyboard clicking as Gabriel types one-handedly.

Esteban’s anxiety is only going from bad to worse as the minutes pass, waiting for the doctor to make their way down to him. Logically, he understands this hospital is full of people who need help and families who need support, but the longer he waits to find out what happened to Pierre, the more the scenarios in his mind worsen. Intensive care could be indicative of so many different things - is Pierre unconscious and critical but breathing on his own, or is he on a breathing device as well? Is he in one piece or multiple pieces? Will he look like a shell of the man Esteban knew, or will he just look like he’s sleeping peacefully? Why didn’t Pierre pull Esteban’s name off of his emergency contact list?

He hears Gabriel’s tip-tapping on the phone stop, and he looks down at their entwined fingers. The phone screen is dark, indicating that Gabriel has already finished the message and locked the phone. Esteban does not reach out to take it back, instead closing his eyes and focusing on the rise and fall of his own chest as he breathes. It’s all he can do to keep his mind busy and away from all of the horrible scenarios running through it.

Gabriel is blessedly silent beside him, offering a gentle kiss to his temple every so often, and his thumb consistently rubs over Esteban’s knuckles in a pattern that is easy to focus on in tandem with his breathing. He has almost managed to reach a point of calm, almost victorious in bringing his heart rate down from frantic to just slightly elevated, until he hears the woman at the front desk call his name.

“Shit.” he hisses beneath his breath, and Gabriel gives his hand a reassuring squeeze. “They will not let you in because you are not the emergency contact.”

“I know. Will you be alright?” Gabriel asks earnestly, and it causes something to squeeze a little too tight in Esteban’s chest. No, he’s not alright, and no he won’t be alright. At the very least, having Gabriel with him would offer some form of comfort when he needs it the most. But, there is no time to waste, and this isn’t about whether or not Esteban can handle it.

He can. He will. Just like he always does.

“Yes. Just…hope that it is not horrible news.”

Esteban untangles himself from the comfortable positioning he had managed to worm into, looking down at Gabriel with a tight-lipped and uncomfortable smile. Gabriel’s eyes are soft and sad, and his smile is equally as cautious. It makes Esteban’s stomach flip in the worst ways.

But he’s dawdling, and he cannot do that. Pierre could very well be dying, and –

He pushes those thoughts aside and makes his way back up to the front desk, feeling the trembling in his limbs returning. As he reaches the reception area, he sees the same woman from before, conversing with a tall, dark-haired doctor in a stereotypical white coat at her side. Her hair is tied up in a bun and she’s wearing thick-rimmed glasses. Her features are soft and gentle, but there is an obvious tension in the crinkle of her brow and the way her smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes, either.

“Mr. Ocon, this is Doctor Maynor. She will give you an update on Pierre’s condition and take you to see him, okay?” The receptionist says, and her tone is noticeably more carefully chosen than it had been when Esteban first walked into the hospital. None of this is easing his anxiety in the slightest. It is clear that everyone is walking on eggshells, and walking on eggshells means that they have bad news to deliver. Esteban can only hope that Doctor Maynor is blunt, concise, and rips the band-aid off so his poor heart can just take all the damage in one swoop.

“Thank you.” He says, looking over to the doctor and politely holding out a hand for her to shake. She does so, and her hand is warm as she grips his firmly. He hopes she cannot feel him trembling.

“Good morning, Mr. Ocon. Let me take you somewhere a little more private, okay? We can talk outside of his room.” Doctor Maynor suggests, motioning down the hallway towards a set of double doors that Esteban assumes lead into the ICU. He swallows thickly.

“Yes, of course. My partner is here with me, I know he cannot hear anything about Pierre’s condition, but can he come with me to the ICU?” He asks, almost fearing what the answer might be to such a question. The receptionist earlier had mentioned ‘limited visitation’ and that alone might be enough for them to keep Gabriel from him.

However, her polite smile never falters, and she offers a nod. “Of course. I can’t allow both of you into Pierre’s room at the same time, but there is a separate waiting area for the ICU that he can be situated in.”

Esteban’s sigh of relief must be palpable, as Doctor Maynor’s smile twitches towards something more genuine. Esteban jogs ahead of her towards the waiting area where Gabriel is still sitting, and he whistles softly to get his attention. Gabriel’s head snaps up instantaneously, and Esteban urges him over with a frantic hand gesture. “Come, we are going to the ICU.”

Esteban watches as Gabriel fumbles to collect his belongings. It’s clear he must have thought he would be there for some time, as he was lounging with his feet up and both his phone and a book open to his side. He grabs everything and shuffles to his feet, meeting up with Esteban at the same moment Doctor Maynor joins them as well.

“Good morning. Mr. Ocon has requested you to be with him in the ICU. I’ll show you where the waiting area is, and I’ll have a chat with Mr. Ocon in private about your friend’s condition.”

Esteban barely contains a snort at the word ‘friend.’ Perhaps one time in the past, they were friends. Perhaps one time in the past, they were even more than that. Perhaps something went wrong somewhere down the line, and their hearts lost touch. Perhaps from that moment, they never saw each other in a positive light again. ‘Friend’ - the way that makes Esteban’s heart ache so painfully in his chest. They are not friends. He doesn’t even know what they are anymore, really. Maybe just teammates, and nothing more.

Nonetheless, Esteban nods towards Gabriel, who responds with a very polite, “Yes ma’am.” 

As they approach the double doors of the intensive care unit, Doctor Maynor tugs on a badge clipped loosely to her coat and holds it against the sensor. The doors spring to life, opening slowly to allow them inside, and Esteban forces himself to take a deep breath as he crosses the threshold into his new and frightening territory. The ward is alive with the sounds of beeping monitors, nurse chatter, the clicking of keyboards as they’re furiously typed upon, and the sound of wheels against linoleum flooring where monitors and other sensitive equipment are being carted around by the medical staff. Each door is spread quite far apart from the other, all numbered in ascending order, with even numbers on the left and odd ones on the right.

Doctor Maynor comes to a halt right at the end of the hallway, where Esteban can see a small carpeted area full of couches and chairs. It’s all very similar to the waiting room outside of the emergency ward, and he knows this is where he loses Gabriel.

This is where he knows things may never be quite the same ever again.

“Here’s the waiting area. Pierre’s room is not too far from here.” Doctor Maynor says, using her arm to gesture towards the empty chairs in the room. Gabriel sucks in a breath and Esteban immediately turns to face him, feeling that same awful, ice-cold dread fill him from head to toe once again. 

“I will be right here, Esteban. It’s going to be okay.” Gabriel tells him, leaning in close to bump their foreheads together. Esteban nods, not trusting the way his voice might sound if he dares to speak. “It’s okay, baby.” 

Gabriel presses a feather-soft kiss to the bridge of Esteban’s nose, and then he steps back to head into the waiting room. Esteban’s hand twitches at his side, a longing feeling at the tips of his fingers to reach out and grab hold of Gabriel, to stop him from leaving, but that would only prolong the inevitable. Something Esteban has already been doing too much of.

“Are you ready, Mr. Ocon?” Doctor Maynor asks softly, and Esteban can appreciate that her voice is full of sympathy and warmth. It’s in stark contrast to the woman at the front desk who, (through no fault of her own, really, Esteban knows this is her job after all), had been less than gentle giving her side of the news. 

“Yes,” he replies after a moment, his chest clenching in on itself with the desperate anxiety he feels buzzing in his veins. “I’m ready.”

As she begins to walk off towards Pierre’s room, Esteban is hot on her heels. Even amongst the dread and the nausea and the raw fear he’s fighting off, deep down he wants nothing more than to just know already. And the faster they get to Pierre’s room, the faster he gets that information.

Doctor Maynor stops so abruptly in front of room 158 that Esteban nearly trips over her in the process. His head snaps over towards the door, where Pierre’s name is written neatly up on the board hanging beside the window. The curtains are shut tight, however, and to his dismay (or perhaps to his benefit), nothing can be seen inside the room other than the faint glow of the light peeking out through the corners of the fabric.

“Okay, have they told you anything about what’s happened to Mr. Gasly yet?” She begins, pulling her tablet out from her pocket. Esteban assumes that is where all of Pierre’s data is being kept, an entire record of what’s happened to him since he set foot inside of this hospital. He has to fight the urges to just reach forward and grab it from her hands, and read all the data himself.

“Not at all. I did not even know he was in the ICU until ten minutes ago.”

Doctor Maynor frowns, sliding her finger across the tablet as she scrolls through pages of data. Esteban watches her intently, his heart pounding so fast he can hear it clearly in his ears.

“Mr. Gasly was in a horrible car accident. He was brought in about an hour ago in critical condition. His injuries are extensive and range in severity, but overall, his condition is still highly critical.” She informs him, and Esteban’s stomach drops to his feet.

A car accident? Of all things?

“Okay, so what are they, then?” He urges a bit impatiently, though doctor Maynor doesn’t seem to mind all that much. She sucks in a breath and looks up from the tablet, finally meeting his gaze with a sad smile.

“His pelvis is broken, as well as his clavicle. A few of his ribs fractured as well, and one of them splintered into his lung which caused a puncture and a collapse. He had an open cranial fracture - though minor - and a brain contusion to go along with it. On top of this, he has whiplash, and we are monitoring his neck for any swelling. His right leg is also broken in two spots, but the worst of the injuries is the internal bleeding. It seems on his ride over to the hospital, he went into cardiac arrest once.”

Esteban feels his legs tremble beneath him, either unable or unwilling to hold his weight. His breath is frozen in his lungs, eyes wide in absolute horror as the magnitude of Pierre’s injuries slowly, one by one, register into his brain. He can feel his heart beating in his throat, hard and heavy as if he’d just run up six flights of stairs to get here.

He’s certain the doctor must be speaking to him, but there’s a ringing in his ears that drowns out all other sounds.

Pierre’s heart had stopped in the ambulance. His heart had simply stopped beating.

Esteban thinks he may be sick.