#this was super FUN to write

[blackrosesandwhump]

Augusnippets Day 1: Brainwashing

CW: 2nd pov from whumper's perspective, brainwashing (obvi), general Gothic whump

In the shadowy dining room, whumpee sits alone, candlelight flickering across his expressionless face. His folded hands lie motionless in his lap. His eyes stare at nothing, two blank windows that open into emptiness.

Perfection. Just what you always wanted. A beautiful, flawless doll of your own.

“My dear whumpee,” you murmur, “I see all our hard work has paid off. You look exquisite.” Gently, you brush the back of your hand against his collar and down his silk vest. Its embroidery glimmers like stars.

Whumpee remains statue-still at your touch. Just what you always wanted.

“Not a single thought in your head,” you muse aloud, walking around whumpee to examine him from all angles. “Of course I can always change that if I want. But for now, this emptiness is—”

With an echoing crash, the door to the dining room slams open. Caretaker. The ferocious glint in his eyes delights you. Such a contrast to the magnificent blankness sitting before you.

“You’re too late, as usual.” You stride forward, shielding your precious whumpee from view. “I’ve already completed the process. And only I can reverse it. If I choose.”

“Then do it,” caretaker growls, drawing his weapon, “or I’ll make you beg for death.”

How silly. Threats mean nothing to you now, in the wake of your triumph. You step aside, revealing whumpee’s seated form, frozen and lifeless as if made of porcelain. Caretaker gasps and rushes forward.

“And why would I undo this,” you ask, gesturing at whumpee, “when at last I’ve created the perfect living doll?”

@augusnippets

[cod-thoughts]

Day 6 of 31 days of COD

Word count: 1.4k

Relationships: 141 as family

Tags: Face reveal ooo, crack treated seriously, the team fluster ghost

With a small sigh, he reached up and, in one fluid motion, pulled his mask off. No one noticed at first, too engrossed in their own idle thoughts. But then Soap, mid-sentence, glanced over—and froze. His eyes widened, mouth hanging open in a way that made him look downright ridiculous. “Bloody hell…” OR Ghost takes off his mask and the team go a little overboard with the compliments. Continue under the cut or on AO3!

The break-room felt smaller today, though that might have been because it was one of those rare moments where the entire team—Price, Soap, Gaz, and Ghost—were actually in the same place at the same time. The hum of fluorescent lights buzzed faintly overhead, blending with the quiet clinking of mugs and soft banter.

Price sat at the head of the table, sipping from his usual tea. Soap was lounging in a chair with his legs kicked up on the table, eyes scanning a magazine as he absentmindedly prodded Gaz about some half-remembered mission mishap. Gaz shot back with his usual sharp wit, earning a bark of laughter from Price. Ghost, as usual, sat at the edge of the group, masked and silent, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. His eyes flickered between his teammates, watching them with the faintest hint of amusement behind his stoic demeanour.

It was routine, really. The team was used to this version of Ghost—the silent sentinel who never removed his mask, never fully relaxed, and rarely, if ever, spoke unless there was something mission-critical to say.

“God, I could use a week off,” Soap groaned, stretching his arms over his head. “A proper vacation—somewhere warm. Maybe a beach, yeah?”

Gaz snorted. “You on a beach? Your pasty skin would burn in five minutes flat.”

“Oi!” Soap grinned. “I tan… eventually.”

Price raised an eyebrow. “When was the last time you saw the sun for more than ten minutes without getting shot at?”

The banter continued, with Soap defending his skin tone as the others chipped in with their own jabs. Ghost, leaning back, let out a low, nearly imperceptible chuckle, so quiet only those paying attention would have caught it.

For a moment, the conversation lulled, everyone settling into a comfortable silence. It was then, seemingly out of nowhere, that Ghost did something completely unexpected.

With a small sigh, he reached up and, in one fluid motion, pulled his mask off.

No one noticed at first, too engrossed in their own idle thoughts. But then Soap, mid-sentence, glanced over—and froze. His eyes widened, mouth hanging open in a way that made him look downright ridiculous.

“Bloody hell…”

Gaz blinked, his head turning sharply towards Soap before following his line of sight. His reaction was nearly identical—jaw slack, eyes wide, staring at Ghost as if they’d just seen a ghost themselves.

Price was the last to notice, casually looking up from his cup of tea. But even his usually calm demeanor cracked. He blinked once, twice, clearly trying to process what he was seeing.

Ghost shifted in his seat, awkwardly clearing his throat. His face, the part of him that none of them had ever seen, was now fully exposed. And, to his dismay, all three of them were staring like he’d grown a second head.

“...What?” Ghost grumbled, voice quieter without the mask’s muffling effect.

Soap was the first to recover, though not by much. “You—” He gestured vaguely at Ghost’s face, seemingly at a loss for words. “Mate, you’re—”

“What?” Ghost repeated, a touch of defensiveness creeping into his tone. He looked down, as if suddenly self-conscious about his scars, the jagged lines that marred his skin. They were old, faded in some places but still stark reminders of a life lived in warzones. He’d always assumed they’d be what people noticed first if they ever saw his face.

Price coughed, breaking the tense silence. “We didn’t realise you were…” He glanced at Soap and Gaz, who were both still gaping, and then back at Ghost. “So damn good looking.”

Ghost blinked, clearly caught off guard. “What?”

Gaz finally found his voice. “Mate, are you kidding me? You’re—” He made a vague motion with his hand, as if trying to summon the right word. “You’re bloody gorgeous.”

Ghost’s brows furrowed, and he shifted uncomfortably. “The hell are you on about?”

Soap finally managed to close his mouth, but a grin quickly replaced his initial shock. “He’s right, LT. You’re a bloody model under there!”

Price let out a low chuckle, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “I’ll be damned.”

Ghost, visibly thrown off by the unexpected praise, glanced away, a rare uncertainty settling into his posture. He could feel his face heat up, a strange, unwelcome flush creeping up his neck.

“Stop takin’ the piss,” Ghost muttered, reaching for his mask. “I’m scarred to hell and back. I know what I look like.”

Soap, quick as ever, leaned forward and snatched the mask off the table before Ghost could grab it. “Oh no, you’re not putting that back on.”

“Johnny—”

“I mean it, LT. We’ve seen it now, and we’re not lettin’ you hide that handsome face again,” Soap teased, grinning like the cat that caught the canary.

Ghost’s ears burned, his embarrassment deepening. He could feel the heat crawling up his face, and judging by the way the others were staring, it was clear they’d noticed too.

“Jesus Christ,” Ghost mumbled, scrubbing a hand over his face in a futile attempt to hide his growing discomfort.

Gaz, always the sharp observer, chimed in with a laugh. “Did you see that? The way his eyes crinkled when he smiled? Damn, Ghost, you’ve been holding out on us.”

Ghost groaned, burying his face in his hands. “You lot are unbelievable.”

Price chuckled softly, his tone more relaxed now that the initial shock had worn off. “Well, Simon, I’ll admit I wasn’t expecting this. You’re going to have to get used to the compliments.”

Ghost peeked through his fingers, eyes narrowing slightly. “Compliments?” he muttered, voice muffled by his hands. “You’re all takin’ the piss.”

Soap’s grin only widened. “Oh, we’re not. It’s just… wow. You’ve been hiding a face like that all this time?”

Ghost finally dropped his hands, shooting Soap an unimpressed look. “Drop it, Johnny.”

But Soap was clearly having the time of his life. “Nope. Not droppin’ it. Not when I’ve just discovered that you, our own Ghost, have been hiding a face prettier than half the models in Vogue.”

Price rolled his eyes at Soap’s dramatics but didn’t intervene. It was too good to see Ghost, usually so controlled and unflappable, thrown off his game for once.

Ghost, thoroughly embarrassed now, glanced between them, trying to figure out if they were serious or just having him on. But the soft smiles, the lingering surprise in their eyes, told him they weren’t joking—at least not entirely.

“You really think this is funny,” Ghost muttered, though his tone had softened slightly.

“Oh, it’s hilarious,” Soap admitted, “but also true. I mean, look at you. How have you been hidin’ that all this time?”

Ghost’s face burned. He wasn’t used to this—being the centre of attention, being… admired. He’d spent so long behind the mask, letting it shield him from the world, that he’d almost forgotten what it was like to be seen. Really seen.

Gaz grinned, leaning back in his chair. “Bet you didn’t think you’d get this reaction, huh?”

Ghost shook his head, still feeling out of place, exposed in a way he hadn’t expected. “Figured you’d just be staring at the scars,” he admitted quietly.

Price’s voice was gentle, cutting through the teasing with a calm sincerity. “We’re not bothered by those, Simon. You’re still you—scars or not.”

The warmth in his captain’s words, in the way the team looked at him, sent another flush up Ghost’s neck. He opened his mouth to argue, to downplay it, but Soap beat him to it.

“And now that we’ve seen that smile,” Soap said with a cheeky grin, “you can’t go hiding it again.”

Ghost grumbled under his breath, but the teasing continued, light and relentless. They were all enjoying it far too much, talking about his smile, his eyes, the way his expression changed now that they could see his face. They gushed about him as if he wasn’t right there, sitting at the table, clearly flustered and trying his best to keep his composure.

“Christ, you lot are insufferable,” Ghost muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.

Gaz laughed. “Get used to it, Ghost. You’re stuck with us.”

And as much as he grumbled, as much as he wanted to bury his face in his hands and pretend this whole thing wasn’t happening, there was a part of Ghost that felt… lighter. Like maybe, just maybe, he didn’t need the mask as much as he thought he did. 

[symbioticsimplicity]

Based on an idea @thediktatortot and I workshopped in the tags of this post. Enjoy Tommy, Steve, Eddie and Billy being trapped in a room together!

Part 2! Part 3! Part 4! AO3 link!

                                                               *

The world was hell bent on making Steve Harrington suffer. He was sure of it, dead-set, knew it in his soul.

Why else would he have gotten trapped in the high school teacher’s lounge with Eddie Munson, Tommy Hagan, and Billy Hargrove of all people?

“--you didn’t skip gym every fuckin’ year then maybe you could have kept up, freak.” Tommy hissed at Eddie, his teeth gritted as he leaned against the door a demodog was currently trying to knock down.

“Oh yeah cause tackle fucking football really prepares you for the goddamn apocalypse!” Eddie snarled back, marring the effect a little by tripping over his feet as he brought over a chair to prop against the door.

“Shut the fuck up!” Billy growled at them both, “‘M tryin’ to fuckin’ focus!”

He had his back pressed against the door, and was probably the real reason that it hadn’t been caved in yet. Ever since he’d survived his face off with the mindflayer last summer, Billy had been different. Not just in such that he didn’t try to take a bite out of anyone who got too close to him half as often, but in that he could bench his fucking car. Steve knew, because he’d seen him do it one of the days he’d picked Max up for whatever dumb thing the kids were up to. 

“Oh sorry Lou, don’t let us get in the way of your ‘roid rage.” Tommy snitted back, unable to keep his mouth shut for love of life or limb.

“Tommy, for fucks sake shut your mouth for ten goddamn minutes and help me move this vending machine.” Steve cut Billy off before he could escalate what was quickly devolving into a miniaturized Lord of the Flies reenactment.

Tommy aimed an ugly look his way while Eddie snickered.

“King’s callin’ Hagan, be a good little pawn and attend him.” 

“Munson, get your ass over here, you’re helping too.” Steve turned his disapproving glare on Eddie too.

Tommy bowed dramatically, “Ladies first.”

“Age before beauty.” Eddie bowed back.

“Hurry. The. Fuck. UP!” Billy was losing ground by inches. 

Tommy and Eddie took their places on either side of Steve and the three of them started to push the vending machine, inch by screeching inch, across the floor and in front of the door. It filled almost the entire door frame. While it wouldn’t keep a pack of demodogs out for long, it would give them long enough to get their shit together again.

“Okay, so plan?” Steve looked between the three men he now found himself stuck with, “Anybody got a plan?”

“Munson’s the ‘Dungeon Master’, isn’t coming up with plans to beat monsters kind of your thing?” Tommy poked again, securing his place on the mental list Steve knew Eddie kept of people he would eat first in a crisis.

“What the fuck is your problem, douchebag?” Eddie turned his full attention on him, “We’re in the middle of some supernatural life or death bullshit, and your go-to is still ‘Shit on the Freak’? My fuckin’ plan is to trip you while we’re running so they slow down to eat your stupid jock ass.” 

Steve pressed his fists into his eyes, trying to force himself to breathe through the headache he could feel forming at the base of his skull. Of all the combinations of people…

“I was trying to be nice!” Tommy shouted back, and even with his eyes closed, Steve could see the way his hands were gesturing, “That stupid game you play with your weirdo friends has a lot to do with making shit up as you go along! That’s a skill!”

“....did you just admit to knowing what DND is about?” Eddie sounded more confused than angry, like all the fire just burnt right out of him.

“I-! No- I just…”

“Table that,” Billy cut in, “I’m not getting torn apart by another one of those fucking things because you two can’t focus for shit.”

“Who died and made you boss, Hargrove?” Tommy snapped reflexively.

“Your fucking Dad, Hagan. It’s why I’m fucking your mom now too.”

“ENOUGH!” Steve shouted in a voice that sounded so much like Richard Harrington he hated himself a little bit for it, “None of us like each other, we all know that, it’s whatever, old news! But I’m pretty sure none of us want to die, either. You two know better than anyone that this shit is not a game.” 

Steve pointed a finger at Billy and Eddie each in turn before turning his attention on Tommy. 

He was scared, of course he was. Tommy had always used his sharp tongue to cover up his weaknesses, and right now he had to have been feeling about two feet tall and made of tissue paper. Steve had stopped flinching about bodies years ago, but Tommy hadn’t been by his side for that change either. 

So he tried to make himself sound calm, familiar, like they were just talking like they used to when they were dumb little boys sharing secrets during the secret hours of the night where nothing had to mean more than it meant. 

“I know it’s scary as hell, but we’re not going to let you die, Tommy. No one here is dying, not tonight. We’re all on the same team here, and that means we’re going to look out for each other. Okay?”

He held Tommy’s eyes for a moment more, before letting his attention move to Billy, then Eddie in turn.

Eddie was the first to respond, because of course he was.

“Alright, fine. For one night only, coming to an amphitheater near you, the freakiest Friday you’ve ever fucking seen, Off Brand Motley Crue!” Eddie imitated the distant cheering of a crowd and to Steve’s surprise Billy fucking snorted.

He shoved Eddie’s shoulder almost affectionately, muttering “You’re a fuckin’ idiot, Munson.” 

Tommy was still staring at Steve when he looked back at him. There was so much going on in the valley between his eyebrows, Steve could practically hear him thinking.

“Spit it out, Tommy.” Steve sighed while Eddie and Billy wandered off to see if they could scavenge anything of use.

“Is this why you stopped talking to me?” He asked with no preamble.

Fifteen different responses flashed through Steve’s head, all in varying degrees of bitchiness. His patience was more like a roulette wheel than a chord close to snapping at this point. There was every chance he’d say something stupid by sheer chance.

“Kind of?” He shrugged, relieved he’d started off neutral at least, “Some of it, I guess.”

“But not the big part.” Tommy laughs humorlessly, filling in the gaps between what Steve means and what he says as effortlessly as he ever did, “Well shit. Here I was telling myself my best friend ditched me to save me from some crazy horrible death or some shit.”

He laughed again, but the sound was as cruel as it was watery.

“That’s not-- you know that’s not fucking fair Tommy!” Steve could feel his expression folding in on itself.

“Not fair? So you’re saying you didn’t completely bail on me instead of being like ‘Huh we’re kinda assholes and I don’t really like that maybe we should work on that’ like a normal fucking friend would?” Tommy snapped. 

“If you’d said you just wanted to yell at him yourself, I would have ceded the floor to you without a fight, Harrington.” Eddie weighed in from across the room.

“Shut up!” Steve and Tommy chorused together, causing Eddie to raise his hands in surrender with a mischievous smile playing on his lips.

He turned back to Billy, the blonde rolling his eyes as he tore through a drawer full of seasoning packets.

“I’m not fucking stupid, Steve.” Tommy said firmly, his expression looking far more present and alert than Steve was used to, like he’d come out of whatever place he sent himself when there were other people around, “I know you hated what we were like. You’re a nice guy, you always have been. Even though you’re also a total bitch sometimes.”

Steve almost laughed, but the noise caught in his throat instead.

“Yeah well maybe I didn’t think about it. Maybe I was too caught up in needing to change that I told myself I had to get rid of everything to do it.” Steve clenched his jaw, remembering how hard everything had been back then, how alone he’d felt in the canyon between who he was and who he wanted to be.

“I would have changed with you.” Tommy said to his shoes instead of to Steve, “You know. It’s never been about-- about popularity. It’s always been about making you happy.”

The admission caught him like a blow to the stomach. He felt his eyes tearing up and pressed his thumb and forefinger into the bridge of his nose.

“I think near-death experiences with monsters from other dimensions are pretty good catalysts for second chances.” Steve said, when he felt like he could without his voice breaking on him.

“Catalysts?” Tommy raised an eyebrow, “You spend a couple years around a group of nerds and suddenly you start using the big words?”

It’s an insult but it’s good natured, it’s barbed, but like one of those foam prop spiked bats they sell for Halloween. It’s familiar, and it’s easy, and God has Steve missed bantering with someone who knows how to tease him without actually hurting his feelings.

“Pretty face isn’t gonna get me by my whole life.” Steve replied, a smile sneaking onto his lips as a matching smile spans Tommy’s.

Tommy claps him on the shoulder, “Damn straight, once you hit forty that hair is gonna move onto your back and then you’re screwed.”

Steve laughed, feeling relieved by the resolution of something he hadn’t been aware was still bothering him.

“Yeah, yeah, you can’t say that like your skin isn’t gonna melt like your uncle Fred’s did when you hit thirty.”

“Don’t you dare bring Uncle Fred into this!”

                                                             *

To Steve surprise, the demodogs didn’t come crashing through the vending machine door. After about an hour, they stopped trying to get through entirely. 

They thought for a moment that they’d left, but when Billy started pushing the vending machine aside to check, the growling started back up and he quickly moved it back.

“They’re keeping us pinned down.” Eddie muttered around his thumb where he was nervously biting at the skin, “Out of the way.”

“Yeah.” Steve agreed, trying not to let himself think through all the reasons that could be, “Split the party, classic.”

“So you do listen when I talk to you about DND.” Eddie beamed, “Knew it. Closet nerd.”

Billy muttered something that vaguely sounded like ‘closet something’ but he was standing on Steve’s bad side and he couldn’t really be sure. 

Steve rolled his eyes, “You try having six kids and a really hyper metalhead talking your ear off about the same thing all the time. See how much you remember.”

“Jock to nerd pipeline not withstanding, you know why splitting the party is a problem, right?” Eddie continued stubbornly on.

“We’re most of their muscle.” Billy answered instead, “Take us out or pin us down, the rest of them are easier to take out.”

“Ten XP to California.” Eddie clapped.

“So you think they’re trying to keep us out of something?” Tommy asked, surprisingly mindful of his tone.

Eddie nodded, gnawing at his nail again, “We need another way out.”

“Not a lot of options.” Steve glanced around quickly, his leg starting to bounce.

“Pretty much just the front door.” Billy agreed.

“So we need a battle plan.” Tommy summarized, “Okay, right. Munson, what are you good at?”

Eddie frowned and Tommy threw his hands into the air.

“I’m not trying to start shit, I’m asking so we can figure out where the fuck to put you. Hargrove is a one man demolition team, Steve has that bat and he’s really good at taking a punch, I’m good at defence and I can lift a lot more than those things, so what’s your deal?”

Eddie thought for a second, and Steve honestly couldn’t tell if he was considering his answer or if he was pausing for dramatic effect.

“Well,” He started eventually, “I’m good with a shield, and I’m pretty strong too. Don’t look like it, but I can manhandle Stevie here pretty easily.”

Tommy shot him a look that he pointedly ignored. There was no way he was explaining any of that right now, or ever if he had the choice. 

“Steve is easy to manhandle. Barely even fights it.” Billy replied, “That’s not a good gauge of strength.”

“You could rip an airplane in half, you’re not a good gauge of strength.” Eddie gesticulated in Billy’s general direction.

“I fought him way before that.”

“He’s right though.” Tommy shrugged, “Steve never fights being manhandled.”

Eddie scoffed and Steve was pretty sure he was going to choke to death on embarrassment long before the demodogs ever got him.

“Anyway, back on track, guys. You thinking Billy as the spearhead, you and Eddie flanking and me taking up the rear?” Steve tried to guide the conversation back to safer ground before they did something stupid like bond over having all manhandled him at some point.

“Yeah.” Tommy nodded, “Exactly.”

“That’s what I would have said.” Billy shrugged.

“Jock mindmeld.” Eddie shuddered, “Normally, a sign that conformity is alive and well, but right now? Might just save a life. I hate to say it boys, but sportsball might just save the day this time.”

“I’m telling everyone you said that.” Tommy grinned.

“That tripping you plan can still be enacted.” 

[twistedtalking]

Can I request a gender neutral s/o | reader who is not scared about talking to Riddle despite his reputation of being harsh on people and also treated him with respect? They called him civilly with his last name and always dropped by to check up on him too.

Unfortunately, for them since he is a yandere-

Finally! A request! 1st one in months.

Thank you!

TW: OOC, storage room, claustrophobia(?)

Context: someone sent u a very creepy letter, something like

"Go to the warehouse or else. I really really love you. Don't you dare disobey me." It was written with blood red ink(?) (Hopefully, it's ink) And for Grim's safety, you obey. Suddenly, the door locks. You see Riddle, and try to ask him for help, but an eery grin rests upon his face.

"Why do you look so surprised? Is this not what you wanted? I mean, you must have known this was coming. You must have wanted this! And as you are very dear to me, I let you.

So why do you look so...

.

.

A-are you shivering? Do you fear me?

This is so unlike you.

It must be Ace and Deuce's fault! You spend too much time with them. They must have influenced you!

Don't worry, dear.

I'll make sure they are

properly punished.

.

.

.

No?

What do you mean "NO"? Is this not what you wanted?

.

" I misunderstood?"

I DID NOT.

You love me! You must've loved me! Otherwise, why would you do all that? Why else if not for love?! You did this because you love me.

You wouldn't have done so much if you had not a smidgen of love in you. "They" must have tricked you! Put you under a spell! A potion perhaps.

I should've been more wary. You attract too many wasps, my rose.

WHO WAS IT?! Was it Schoenheit? Ashengrotto?? Whoever it is, it shall be

"Off With Their Head"!

.

.

Don't worry, dearest.

I'll keep you safe from all these hooligans.

Now stay put. I must punish those who dare touch my rose.

Just stay in this room. Don't take one step out of here. That's an order.

You won't disobey your queen, will you?

.

.

Or has Ace and Deuce influenced you to such an extent. I should forbid them from speaking to you. Perhaps they should be punished-

You'll stay? Good.

[jetskisonyourmoat]

Another day and another fic!!

Thanks to @cluedoenthusiast for coming up with this idea xx

[ginervacade]

It’s 🎵Exchange Day!!! 🎵

@jatpfebfanfest thanks for letting me be a part of something so cool!!

@locketletters I hope you like it. It was super fun to write. I’ve read lots of stuff with the sunset curve polycule but hadn’t tried to write anything until this one. It ended up being a little more Luke centered than Alex but I hope you still like it!! I’m sorry it’s so short, I’ve had a lot going on.

I give you…

Distractions:

They’d been practicing for almost four hours when Reggie finally flopped onto the couch with a dramatic sigh.

“ Luke, babe, I love you but if we haven’t gotten it yet then it’s just not gonna happen tonight. I’m so tired.”

Luke pouted and protested as if he wasn’t about to fall asleep himself. Reggie looked to Bobby and Alex behind their boyfriend for help. He got a silent matching nod from them both.

“ I wanna cuddle and watch Star Wars and eat pizza.” Reggie whined hoping to entice Luke’s attention away from his guitar and song book long enough for the others to take them away.

Apparently the promise of food and physical affection was enough to temporarily perk his ears up and Reggie reached toward him from his position on the couch with grabby hands. Luke stood, going to plant a quick kiss on Reggie’s cheek and in his moment of distraction set his guitar to the side. Bobby quickly snatched it up and Alex closed the song book.

Reggie did his part by pulling Luke down on top of him on the couch, deepening the kiss. The lead singer practically melted into it for a moment when Reggie’s nimble fingers pulled his orange beanie off to entangle themselves in his hair and pull gently. Luke hummed in contentment before pulling back.

“ I just wanna run this part one more time and then we can stop for the ni- where’s my guitar?” He cut himself off looking around to meet Bobby’s smirk. Reggie giggled from his place on the couch and Luke turned back to him looking betrayed.

“ You tricked me, that wasn’t fair.”

The bass player didn’t even have the decency to look ashamed.

“ Sorry Lu,” Alex piped up from the loft, waving the captured guitar and songbook at him with a smile, “ but we’re all tired and hungry, including you, and you’ve said one more time 14 times already.”

“ You’re the worst,” Luke pouted some more, though there was no bite to his words. As if to punctuate his sentence and prove him wrong his stomach growled loudly.

Bobby shot him a look, hands on his hips.

“ Fine,” Luke finally conceded, sighing and throwing himself unceremoniously onto the couch next to Reggie. He leaned over onto Reg’s shoulder and stared up at him until pretty green eyes rolled fondly at him and the fingers found their way back to his hair to begin gently massaging his scalp.

“ Call me unfair and then pull out the puppy dog eyes that I taught you,” Reg scoffed but didn’t stop either. Alex sat down on Luke’s other side, smiling fondly when he automatically grabbed his hand and interlaced their fingers.

Bobby chuckled, crossing the room to give the blond a quick peck.

“ Lexie, good work love,” he said, “ You too darlin’.” He added to Reggie, who perked up at the praise. “ I’m gonna go order the pizza and pop some popcorn. Somebody set up the VHS player.”

***

30 minutes later they were all cuddled up on the couch, stuffing their faces with pizza and popcorn and listening to Reggie quote along with Empire Strikes Back.

Luke took a swig of his soda and absentmindedly started singing the new song under his breath.

“ Oh my God Patterson! Shut up!” Bobby said, laughing as he shoved a piece of pizza into the other boy’s mouth.

Luke chewed it annoyedly, curling further into Alex’s side. Lex took over playing with Luke’s hair as he munched on his popcorn.

“ It is a really cool song though babe,” he said and Luke automatically relaxed, his eyes slipping closed at Alex’s gentle tugging on his hair. “ We’ll keep working tomorrow, for now let’s just enjoy the night.”

He didn’t get a response because Luke was already asleep. Alex smiled, pressing a kiss into his soft brown curls.

“ Goodnight Rockstar.”

[huffle-dork]

Glitch into the Hufflverse Chapter 13: Curiousity Killed the Cat

Read Swapboys | Read Crystal’s AUs | Read CKTC | Read The Magnificent Series | Read Glitched Mind

Read SITCV | Read SATCV | GITHV Masterpost

Marvin, Jackieboy, Jackie, JJ and Bro all appear in a cooperate looking office space- a big wooden table with office chairs right in the middle. The surface is filled with magic books and trinkets and gadgets in various states of repair.

"Hmm." Jackie looks around. "Nice place, I guess."

Jackieboy strides in and calls out, "Chaseee! You here?"

There's a groan and then another man in a dark gray hat and gray shirt rolls out on a desk chair into the hallway. "Jackie I keep telling you this space isn’t rented for you all to have a second place to-" He then blinks in surprise at the new men. "...what the hell?"

JJ gives a cheerful wave. Hello! It's nice to meet you.

"This is pretty confusing for you, huh?" Jackie says. "Well, hello. Your friends said that you were Chase. Nice to meet you. I'm Jackie and JJ and this is Chase. We're from another universe. And yeah, that sounds absurd, but it's true." He's getting pretty tired of explaining this over and over. How did Alt and Bro handle it on all their adventures?

“You got the sales pitch down pat, Jackie, nice.” Bro laughs.

Chase looks freaked out and looks at Marvin and Jackieboy in confusion. Jackieboy just shrugs, “I’m not sure I get it either- they don’t even know what being an ego means.”

“I’m messaging Hen and Jamie right now,” Marvin says, already clicking on his phone. “Trying to offer them a portal-“

“Okayyy uh- nice to meet you too, everyone?” Chase says timidly. He gets up then pushes his chair into the room and strides over, messing with his hair, “…you guys sure this isn’t just some weird dream?”

Jackieboy pinches Chase and the father yelps in equal parts pain and surprise. Then he glares at Jackieboy while the latter just grins. “What? Now you know it’s not a dream!”

"Yeah, we don't know what the hell an ego is!" Jackie says, exasperated.

Well, an ego is a thing in psychology, JJ says thoughtfully. Apparently it depends on which practice you're talking about, though. Don't ask me the details, I'm not the one in my world with a psych minor.

"I don't think they're talking about psychology when they call us that, though," Jackie points out.

I'm just saying, it could help explain things if we knew, JJ says. I think... it means... personality? Generally? Like, alter egos.

"Alter egos is the closest thing," Marvin says looking up from his phone. "But it's... complicated. I guess this is the best time to explain." He snaps and appears on the table, sitting cross-legged.

"I dunno how it works where you are... and its weird to think of it differently for us. But we're... figments.  Facets of our creator, Jacksepticeye's, mind. He created us and... we don't know how but now we... exist on our own. We don't have memories or lives before we were made- just a purpose that Jack gave us when he made us. But... he's also letting us figure out who we are as our own people. And in all sense and purposes... we are just as much human as anyone else... except that our life forces and power depend on Jack and our popularity with his fans."

Jackie and JJ stare at Marvin as he speaks, eyes getting wider. ...well then, JJ finally says. That's... strange.

"Y-yeah, that's not a thing where we're from!" Jackie says. He glances at JJ and Bro. "I mean, we're all from different places but I'm assuming that's the thing. How it 'works' where I'm from is that I'm like—an actual human being who wasn't spontaneously birthed from someone's mind v—"

Hey, just because they were created a different way doesn't mean they're not human! JJ interrupts. Marvin just went out of the way to say that they are!

"Okay yeah sure but like—my life force doesn't depend on my Jack, or on anyone else's!" Jackie protests. "I like—grew up! I had a childhood! I went to school! I made friends!"

Bro looks similarily freaked out, "Y-Yeah I... I remember growin up with my brother! I-I went to Uni- I... this is all insane...!" 

"I always wondered what uni would be like- or knowing what it was like to be a kid," Jackieboy muses with a light laugh. 

Jackie, Bro please calm down, JJ says, getting closer to Jackie. Take deep breaths.

"I'm not some fucking creation!” Jackie’s voice cracks. “A-and if it turned out I was, I would—I would kill whoever decided my life was gonna turn out this way!"

You don't mean that! JJ says, stunned.

Jackie deflates a little. "No, I-I don't. Especially if my life depended on them. But I would—I would at least beat them up a little." He absentmindedly brushes his eye-patch, disguising it as adjusting his hair.

JJ looks at him sympathetically, and sighs. I'm sure that in this world, Jack doesn't actually control these guys. He just... made them. You know?

"Yeah Jack doesn't control us- he just... vibes really. He used to watch over us more but..." Jackieboy says quietly.

"...Anti put him in a coma. He's been asleep for a long time." Chase adds, looking sad.

"Some of us he gives more attention to- some of us less. ...we have a bit more freedom now but- He never really sat around and bossed us around." Marvin says with a shrug.

JJ's eyes widen. Oh... I'm sorry about that.

"C-coma?" Jackie's eyes widen. "I... guess that's sort of like what's going on with Jack in my world..." But honestly he thinks his Jack has it worse. He shakes his head, putting the situation out of his mind. "How are you not freaking out about this like Bro and I are, JJ?"

Well... it's another difference between worlds, JJ says. In this one, people have the ability to... create other people. It's... very bizarre to think about, but there must be stranger worlds out there.

"Yeah- just cuz we're created here doesn't invalidate your experiences," Marvin tries to say gently.

"That's why we all look so similar though," Chase says, "Cuz technically we're all... based on the same guy, you know?"

"S'why I like to think we're like brothers- even if we aren't!" Jackieboy grins. "Though I guess if you guys are... us in other universes... that would explain why you look the same. S'like a comic book!"

"Of course that's how you rationalize it, Jackie." Marvin laughs.

JJ blinks. I suppose... It was always a bit strange how we all looked similar. The only two who are related in my world are Jack and Anti, they're cousins. Why did the rest of us look like each other?

"Oh fuck, Anti!" Jackie snaps to attention. "Okay so you guys probably know about Anti, right? He was in that shop we appeared in, a-and he took two of our friends away—Schneep and Alt. Judging by your reactions earlier, this Anti is bad. W-we have to figure out where he took them. Can you guys help?"

The rest of them all stiffen at the mention of Anti.

"Ah fuck right- course Anti stuck his nose in this..." Chase grumbles.

"Anti is notoriously hard to track down..." Marvin sighs, "He usually goes into electronics or a pocket dimension so we can't find him... What are your friends like? ...he might..."

"...maybe we shouldn't scare them, Marv..." Jackieboy says quietly.

"Hey. Other me. Look. Listen." Jackie looks directly in Jackieboy's eyes. "I think it's better if we know how fucked up your Anti is. I can't promise we won't be freaked out, especially if he wants to do some shit to Alt and Schneep, but it's never a good idea to go in blind."

We've dealt with a lot, JJ says, if that helps.

Jackieboy sighs heavily and crosses his arms, "... he's hurt us a lot. He's trying to... find new way to make puppets... especially if they're powerful like Marv."

Bro goes pale, his eyes widening, "...no...!"

Marvin looks away and holds his arms, "... w-we can do our best to help you find them but..u-until they're back out in the world... i-it's impossible to find them."

JJ blinks, color draining from his face. There's no way to get into his pocket realm?

“He controls it completely…” Marvin says timidly. “He’s.. much more powerful than us. He’s connected to Jack.. they’re like - half of each other.”

"Fucking puppets!" Jackie throws his hands in the air. "Why's there always someone who does mind control shit?! Why is that a constant?!"

“Constant? You’ve been to other places huh? God… even outside of here people like us deal with that…” Chase sighs.

Jackieboy grips his arms, “It’s probably cuz of Anti. That’s his thing. Mind control- making puppets. If other things like him exist where you are all… that need for control probably follows.”

"Bro here's been to more worlds than me and JJ," Jackie says, gesturing to him. "But... from what I've seen... a lot of mind control stuff." He laughs dryly. "I guess we can include 'bitch who wants to control shit' in our list of things to expect in other worlds. Though... in my world, that guy is human. Just with some strong magic."

Not in mine. JJ shakes his head. Distorter was human once, but not anymore.

Bro sighs heavily, "Yeah it's... god I thought most of the time it was just because Mag was around but... guess not. Magnificent is a bit of... both? He's not... really human anymore.. but my Jackie says he once was..." he says, holding his arm. "But yeah- Mag is another... control freak to put it way mildly."

The egos look sympathetic and nod, "I'm sorry you all... that must be hard." Marvin says quietly. "We... all know what that feels like."

"Marv more than anyone-" Jackieboy grumbles.

"Yeah... I bet you guys do." Jackie nods.

Then, there's a burst of tealish magic in the corner and two people appear out of it. Well- one is dragging the other.

"Jamie- I swear! I have a lot of paperwork to do I do not have time for-!" A man dressed in mint green scrubs and a white coat says. Then, he looks up and his jaw drops. "...mein gott-"

The other man looks just like JJ- same mustache in a blue vest and white dress shirt with a black bowtie on and a bowler hat. He blinks and then smiles happily and waves. Oh hello all! This is... so strange- but also exciting! He signs. 

JJ smiles and waves back. Hello! It is very exciting, isn't it? Always good to meet someone new, especially when that person is you.

Jackie laughs a little. "Alright, we're gonna zoom through the explanations. I'm Jackie, this is JJ, and this is Chase—or Bro. We're from other universes, we're not fucking... creations or whatever you guys are in this world. We have two friends, Alt and Schneep, who got caught by your Anti."

JJ shakes his head. Not giving them much time to process, are you?

"I just want everyone to be on the same page."

The doctor and other JJ blink slowly- processing the information.

"...that was a lot of information to process in 30 seconds..." The doctor mutters.

Other JJ giggles- or makes the motion of giggling by covering his mustache with his hand as his shoulders shake. Hello! I'm Jameson- this is Henrik.

"Dr. Henrik Von Schneeplestein," the doctor says grumpily.

Don't mind him. He doesn't like being interrupted during his work. But I figured this was important. Jameson signs.

JJ nods, giggling a little. Oh, my Schneep is the same way—though he's not a doctor, he takes his 'work' seriously.

"I am... fascinated how you managed to travel universes to get here... but besides that I do not know how I can be of assistance.." Henrik sighs.

"Oh yeah- how did you all get here anyways? We just found you in Phantom's shop." Jackieboy asks.

"Well... there are these weird rifts that open up," Jackie says. "They only suck in the five of us, but... yeah, they take the five of us to a new world." He shakes his head. "I don't really understand it, honestly. Apparently they're a new thing?"

I think Alt said something about them appearing after he and Chase here went to another world and lost their device to control their travels, JJ recalls.

"Yeah- me and my brother Alt we... we used to travel more using a machine we got from a place called IRIS but it broke... and afterwards the rifts have been showing up and just dumping us random places." Bro explains.

"Huh... that is... unusual..." Henrik mumbles. "I mean... in theory it makes sense. Wormholes are usually random phenoniums but we're trying to figure out how to predict them... perhaps its the same principle."

“Maybe?” Jackie mumbles. “I don’t know anything about any of this, to be honest. I just wanna get home. But looks like we can’t do that for a while, so we should focus on finding our friends who Anti took.”

Your other friends already told us some about your Anti, JJ says, jerking his head towards Jackieboy, Marvin, and Chase. Apparently we can’t find our friends while they’re in his pocket realm.

Oh... yes I've heard as much.... maybe they will... turn up soon? Jameson tries to sign hopefully, giving them a sympathetic smile.

"Yes... hopefully not too... corrupted." Henrik says quietly.

JJ shudders. He doesn’t like the implications of ‘corrupted’ at all.

Jackieboy suddenly jolts and goes to pull out his phone from his pocket. His eyes widen. Then, he sprints to look outside the window. "uhhh guys?? .. I think we have a problem..."

“Problem? What kind of problem?” Jackie also rushes to the window. JJ is close behind.

When they look outside there's.... Alt and Schneep. But both of them look... off. Alt looks up at all the faces and smirks cruelly, waving up at them.

"...I take it those are your friends...?" Jackieboy asks quietly.

Jackie’s heart sinks. “Yeah… that’s them. But they’re—different.”

Bro inhales sharply at seeing them, “Christ…! W-what happened? That’s… that’s not Alt-“ 

JJ stumbles back from the window. That must be what your Anti does, he says, shivering. We have to do something!

“Like what?!” Jackie asks.

Snap them out of it!

“Okay, yeah, but I get the feeling they’re not gonna just let that happen.” Jackie tightens his grip on his staff. “We have to prepare!”

Marvin jumps off the table and then makes room to look- and then pales.  “Ohhh no. That’s not good-“

“What is Marv?” Chase asks.

“I know you all don’t remember it much but… r-remember when I made that deal with Anti and he possessed me…?”

“Oh… oh god-“ Jackieboy whispers.

“And uhhh r-remember Illusion…?” Marvin says even quieter.

“Oh fuck really???” Jackie says louder.

"One of them is possessed?!" Jackie stares in the window's direction with narrowed eyes. "Oh shit. Ohhhh shit. I-I mean, the Anti in my world can possess people too, but—not like that."

Alt seems to see Jackie’s expression and grins wider- his black sclera eye flashing brighter green.

And what's Illusion? JJ asks.

"I'm gonna guess it's something related to mind control," Jackie says.

“…yes-“ Marvin says with a wince, “Anti tried this t-technique on me and it… m-made me a glitch like him. E-Erased my memories and made me forget my brothers- made me… l-like him.” He says shakily. “I’m so sorry I… I didn’t think he’d ever t-try that again…! But I… I recognize it- the glitches coming off your friend…”

"Well... s-some of those glitches are normal for him, but... not in that way," Jackie says. "But that's a long story! Let's talk about it later!"

“What the fucking hell…” Bro breathes in horror. Then he narrows his eyes in determination. “Being freaked out about this isn’t going to save them. Jackie’s right- let’s prepare for a fight.”

“Marvin and me can back you up! Right, Marv?” Jackieboy says. Marvin nods. He looks at the others. “Jameson- can you get Chase and Schneep somewhere safe?” Jamie nods.

“If anyone is injured..  come see us at the hospital.” Henrik says with a nod.

“G-Good luck guys… sorry we can’t be much help but- we’re kinda just… regular guys.” Chase says with a nervous laugh.

"Hey, I'm a regular guy, and there's no way in hell I'm going to let them get away with whatever they're gonna do." Jackie shakes his head. "But if you don't think you can help, you know your capabilities better than me. Get somewhere safe."

JJ's eyes turn blue with power and he pulls his mask back down onto his face. I'm ready when you all are. No doubt they'll appear soon.

Jameson makes a portal and smiles at the rest of them, Good luck.

“We’ll meet them outside… we don’t want them destroying the building…” Jackieboy says.

“Thanks for that!” Chase calls as he and Henrik head through the portal with Jameson.

Marvin closes his eyes and the others find themselves turning green before they appear on the asphalt road outside.

Alt grins and laughs sinisterly. It sounds like him- but it’s clearly not. “Check it out, Schneep! Your friends are here~ ready to show them a fun time?”

“Fuck that! Let our friends go!” Bro shouts, his eyes glowing bright blue.

“Hmmm lemme think about it… no.” Alt laughs with condensation.

Schneep giggles manically. "Yes, yes. Let's do it—"

"Schneep what the fuck?!" Jackie gasps. "What the hell happened to you?! If you could see yourself right now I don't think you'd recognize your reflection!"

"I-is that a bad th-thing?" Schneep grins, and suddenly leaps closer to Jackie. "I-I don't think I c-care right now. Come, Jackie. L-let's see how good you are." And suddenly, Jackie feels pain in his stomach as Schneep shoves a pair of scissors into his abdoment.

Jackie yells out, mostly in surprise, and scrambles backwards, making Schneep pull the scissors out. He laughs and turns to Marvin and Jackieboy. "You two are new! Let's see how you are, too!" He leaps over to them and slashes at Marvin.

“Jackie!” Bro yells in shock and looks at Schneep with wide eyes, “S-Schneep stop! Wake up!”

Marvin yells in surprise and holds up a shield just in the nick of time. “This is sick Anti! Let these guys go!”

“Nope~! You all were getting boringgg so let’s do this now!” Alt giggles and then glitches so he’s behind JJ. He makes a knife out of green magic and tries to slash JJ across the back.

JJ’s eyes widen and he spins around, blocking Anti’s—Alt’s?—attack with a glowing blue shield. “A-Alt—!” He breathes out in his rough voice. He tries curving the shield around him, aiming to pin his arms to his sides.

Alt grins wide and glitches out of JJ's magic, giggling. "Careful there- that sounds painful~!" He laughs cruelly before jumping to try to slash at JJ again.

JJ tries conjuring another shield but isn't fast enough, and Alt's knife slashes across his chest. He cries out and staggers back. And anger suddenly surges in his heart. How dare this—this otherworld thing use his friend to hurt him?! His eyes flash, and he throws out a bolt of magic, half blue, half red.

Meanwhile Jackieboy narrows his eyes at Schneep before cracking his knuckles and going to try to punch him in the face.

Schneep hears Jackieboy move before he does and leaps out of the way. He laughs. “Oh! You are like that, I see! How exciting!” He whirls on him and slashes at him instead.

Jackieboy almost manages to catch Schneep's hand but gets nicked in his attempt. "Jesus! You're fighting with scissors?!" 

“Hey!” Jackie grits his teeth through the pain and swings his staff at Schneep to distract him.

The staff cracks against Schneep’s head and he whirls over to look at Jackie. “Oh? You want more?” He laughs madly.

When Schneep tries to whirl on his other self Jackieboy growls and tries to swipe Schneep's feet out from under him.

Schneep leaps out of  the way of Jackieboy's attack. "Y-you are s-such a noisy attacker!" He laughs. Then he leaps away from Jackieboy and appears behind Marvin. "And you! C-come join the fun!" He makes to stab him.

Marvin gasps and whips around and blasts a bolt of green blue fire at Schneep. "S-Stay back!"

Schneep ducks to the ground, dodging the fire with a laugh. It singes his hair a little bit but doesn't do any damage. "No, I think I won't!" He lunges forward to stab again, and Jackie tries to grab him from behind to stop him, but is too slow.

Alt laughs madly and twirl his knife around, ready to go again. But then he sees the bolt of red and he freezes for a second and just barely manages to use his knife to block the blast. "Hit a nerve there, Jackson?" Alt giggles. 

JJ grits his teeth and fires off more magic, this one going out in a wave—and the same blue and red color.

Alt glitches out of the way and hums, "This is getting boring-" He glitches forward towards JJ and smiles more, "C'mon magic man! Give me a real fight!! Or- I guess you don't wanna hurt your 'friend' who's body I stole hm?"

JJ's eyes flash red—literally. And he sends out a great blast of magic at Anti.

Alt's eyes widen and he's sent skidding back against the ground from the blast. He coughs and his eyes flicker slightly as he tries to push himself up. He coughs up a little bit of black blood and grins, "T-That's better!" He laughs unhingedly and then glitches to be back over by JJ in a burst of lightning and glitches. He tries to blast lightning straight at JJ- 

Marvin tries to blast out another burst of magic but is stabbed in his arm. He yells out and stumbles back, holding the wound. "Schneep!" Bro yells and tries to tackle Schneep to the ground.

Schneep leaps out of the way again, laughing. "Y-you all are so noisy! I h-haven't even needed to use my new power to tell where you are!"

Jackie holds back a growl—apparently Schneep can hear it—and lunges at Schneep while he's laughing. He wraps his staff around him, pinning Schneep between the staff and Jackie's body. Schneep yelps in surprise.

"Jackie jesus!" Bro yells, "C-Careful!"

"I am being careful!" Jackie says. "Someone try to snap him out of this! Schneep! I don't know what the fuck that Anti did to you, but this isn't you!"

Schneep laughs. "Y-you all keep saying that! Y-you all are wrong! I was wrong! This buzzing static i-is not a bad omen, i-it is a blessing!" He throws his head backwards, smashing it into Jackie's face. Jackie yelps and instinctively lets go of one end of the staff to block the blood that starts flowing from his nose. Schneep immediately rushes forward, swinging his open scissors at Bro.

JJ conjures up a shield in time, and the lightning gets—strangely—sucked into the red magic it's made. Jameson grins, unusually fierce, and throws the lightning right back at Anti. 

"W-What?!" Anti whispers in confusion as their magic is absorbed. He's not expecting the lightning to hit him back and he flies back and hits his back against the building before landing in a jittering heap. He struggles to push up his trembling arms, "F-Fucking weak ass h-human body!" He growls.

Marvin seems to shiver as he registers the red magic and his eyes widen. "Jameson careful! U-Using magic like that is dangerous!!"

JJ looks over at Marvin, and then down at the red light dancing around his hands. Dangerous...? What—

Black magic.

He gasps as the realization hits him and he staggers backwards. He didn't even realize what he was doing! He just—wanted so badly to get Anti to stop attacking people—that he—that he attacked Alt to do it. Cold dread fills his stomach, but he shakes it off and tries to freeze Alt in place, his magic back to his usual blue.

Alt's head snaps up and he glitches clumsily out of the way, laughing. Though it sounds forced. "Aw- g-giving up on me already, Jackson? Coward-" 

JJ takes a deep breath. He has to stay calm. He can't let Anti get to him! But—he's shaking slightly. All over his body. It would be so easy to get Anti out of Alt if he used that darker spark of power—No! No, he can't do that!

Bro yelps and tries to block himself but ends up getting slashed across his arm. He growls and builds up energy in his finger then tries to shoot Schneep in the shoulder with electrcity. Schneep dodges, laughing. "Y-you are superhero, yes? I bet you are tough, then!" He keeps slashing, hacking wildly.

Bro tries his best to block Schneep, just taking the hacking against his arms as he tries to bite back pained grunts. "C'mon Schneep! F-Fight this! You're better than this!" He tries to grab Schneep's arm that's holding his scissors.

Schneep shrieks in surprise. Then he laughs some more. The black bars and slashes around him buzz fiercely. "I don't want to fight it, though," he whispers, and tries to punch Bro in the face.

Bro dodges and then uses his hold on Schneep to float them both up in the air. "Well tough! Cuz you need to wake the fuck up dude! I know you don't wanna hurt us like this!"

Schneep blinks in surprise as Bro pulls him up into the air. His feet kick uselessly and he giggles. "How d-delightful! I forget you can f-fly!" He laughs harder. "Oo—do you think I can jump down from here? Do you think I can take you with me?" He grins and tries to leap.

But instead, he just slips out of Bro's grasp and starts to fall.

"Schneep!" Bro yells and rockets down to try to catch him. "A-Are you insane?!"

But Bro isn't fast enough. Schneep lands on the ground hard and gasps as pain snaps through his ankle. He staggers to his feet—then falls again as his ankle refuses to support him. "Hah.. h-haha..." Schneep laughs weakly. "I-I think something has twisted." He tries again, this time managing to stand. He dropped his scissors, but he grabs them again easily enough. "Th-that was n-not supposed to happen. But i-it does not matter."

Bro quickly touches back down and holds his hands out to Schneep. "J-Jesus Schneep! Please- stop this... y-you're hurting yourself!"

"H-have you never hurt yourself?" Schneep asks, giggling. "E-even accidentally?" 

"Not like this!" Bro tries to argue. 

Then he abruptly turns to face Jackieboy and Marvin. "Don't think I've f-forgotten you two!" He throws his scissors in their direction.

Marvin holds out a hand and catches his scissors in his magic then throws them down to the ground, catching them in the asphalt. His eyes burn blue green. "Listen other Schneep- I dunno what Anti has promised you- but as another one of his victims I can tell you- it doesn't mean shit! He just wants chaos! He wants to see you and everyone you love hurt. Is that really what you want?"

"Wh-what's wrong with a little chaos?" Schneep giggles. But his smile seems a bit hollow as he remembers how he really hurt Alt earlier. "C-come on, join the fun!" The scissors disappear from the asphalt and reappear in Schneep's hand as he lunges forward.

Jackie notices JJ standing there, trembling, and rushes over, swinging his staff at Alt's head—maybe he can knock him out!

Alt laughs more, an unhinged expression on his face. "Pathetic! Just like your counterpart here- just a fucking useless mut-!"

The staff hits Alt right on top of the head and his vision doubles and he slams into the floor.

JJ blinks in surprise and looks over at Jackie. "Can you do something to stop him?!" Jackie says.

Shaking himself off, JJ nods. He crouches by Alt's side and pulls his wrists behind his back, using magic to bind them there.

"This Anti's even more of an asshole than mine!" Jackie hisses.

That does make sense, doesn't it? JJ says.

Alt struggles against the two of them and laughs even more, "Your Antis are fucking weak! Just like this one is- and I'll use his body until he falls apart! Weak things like him don't deserve to be an Anti!" He bites out at the end, eyes flashing brighter green. "So- do your worst, bitches. I'd like to see you try to free him~" 

"Ohhh if you knew my Anti, you wouldn't be calling him weak," Jackie mutters. "And if you knew Alt, you wouldn't be calling him that, either. I don't care if you can see his memories while possessing him, which you might not. He is so much stronger than anyone thinks--than even he thinks." He grabs Alt's shoulders and shakes him slightly. "Do you hear that, Alt? You're not weak like this bitch is saying! Don't let him beat you down like that!"

JJ nods. You're a great magician and a great man! You can drive him out!

Something in Alt's eyes flicker and he gasps quietly, suddenly trembling a bit more. At first all he can do is make wheezed whimpers but eventually he tries to croak out, "G-Guys...?" Then he winces and hangs his head, fighting against the pounding inside of it- grabbing every fiber of his soul. "N-ngh-!"

"Yes! Alt!" Jackie nods encouragingly. "We're here for you! I-I know it's hard, but you can fight him off!" He looks over at JJ. "Don't you have any magic that could help?!"

JJ's eyes widen. He's not sure—maybe if he used that other power—no! He can't do that! Taking a deep breath, he reaches out and grabs Alt's arm, hoping that if he sends some of his magic into him, it'll... he's not sure. Give Alt something to latch onto? Help drive out this Anti? Something like that.

Alt pants, suddenly weaker than he has been, staring out at the two of them with cloudy eyes. There's a flicker then he growls and bursts an arm out of the magic and grabs JJ's arm, snarling, "Y-Your weak magic can't save him- none of you can...!"

JJ starts as Alt--Anti--grabbed him. For a moment, the blue glow in his eyes flickers, turning red, and the magic going into Alt's body turns into something else, something burning—

"Jameson!" Jackie looks at him in shock.

Alt yelps slightly as the magic burns him and seems a bit more awake for a second. 

JJ shook his head, magic returning to its normal blue. I didn't mean to do that, he says. That doesn't usually happen.

"Dude, get a hold of yourself, this isn't the time!" Jackie looks back at Alt, staring through him towards the possessing glitch within. "You sure love calling people weak, don't you? You know what I think? I think you're scared. I think that you know that you aren't as strong as you appear, and you know that all of us together can drive you out, so you try to tell us we aren't. Don't listen to him, Alt! He's just a little bitch."

Anti grabs the reins from Alt again and grins coldly at Jackie, baring sharp teeth. "Is that what you tell yourself? Think yourself strong to hide how scared shitless you are? I can tell from the way you fight J̵a̵c̶k̵i̷e̷, you're scared of yourself, aren't ya? All you fuckers are. I know you weaklings ain't got nothing on me. I'm eternal. I got all these pussies wrapped around my fingers. This is all just a fun game for me~!" 

Jackie jerks backwards slightly. Scared of himself? Is that—is that true? No, he knows his capabilities. And—that's the problem, isn't it? He knows what he could do if he really let loose. And he doesn't want to be the person who did those things anymore.

"Shut up!" JJ shouts, voice rasping as his eyes turned red once more, burning magic flowing into Alt again. 

Alt gasps out in pain and his eyes fill with red and red cracks crawl across his skin. He almost falls against JJ and Jackie as he grits his teeth against the magic. There seems to be an outline of glitches rising slightly above Alt- almost like... is the black magic forcing Anti out? His eyes flicker as he pants and tries to laugh, "K-Keep on hitting the nerves huh? You got quite the temper hidden, don't ya Jamie~?" 

JJ jerks backwards in surprise. A temper? No, he doesn't have a temper. Does he? This is just—an exception to how he usually is. And—maybe it's an exception he should lean into. Because he's doing something. His face darkens and he forces more of that magic at Anti, a cold so deep it burns.

"Jameson!" Jackie actually scoots backwards in shock.

Alt screams now, his back arching as more red crawls across his skin and it burns-! Anti hates the feeling- he wants it out- out! In a burst of static and glitches a form bursts out of Alt's body and then glitches to its knees on the road behind them. He's twitching and trembling- red cracks on him too as he curses. "F-Fucking! Black magic b̷̡̈ȕ̷̻l̵̤̋l̵̫̇s̵͍͝ḣ̸̙ị̶͝t̷̲̄-!"

Alt's eyes partially roll back into his head as he slumps forward, black magic stark on his skin and all the evidence of his possession still present.... like his slit throat.

"Alt!" Jackie glances at Anti for a moment, but then turns his attention to the fucking bleeding throat wound that Alt is suffering from. "Alt! Fuck! I-I thought that would go away! Jameson!"

JJ shakes his head and looks at Alt as well—and any lingering anger is pushed back by fear. He grabs onto Alt again, trying to heal him. Trying—trying to heal him—trying—why isn't it working? He grits his teeth and whispers the spell under his breath over and over.

Alt chokes and gurgles slightly, and- the healing spell isnt working. If anything- the red cracks seem to get brighter and spread out more. 

Marvin meets Schneep and makes a shield that looks like a card made of transparent magic. He pushes Schneep back with the shield and bares his teeth. "Chaos only hurts those around you! Nothing good comes of it!"

Schneep presses his hands against Marvin's shield, putting his face an inch from its surface. "A-are you sure?" It doesn't sound taunting. It sounds... like a genuine question. And yet, as he asks it, he turns the scissors in his hand around and tries to stab them through the shield.

Marvin lets his guard down- thinking he's getting through to Schneep. But then, his scissors hit with so much force the shield shatters and Marvin flies back, trying to cover up his face from the burst magic. Jackieboy quickly catches him, "Marv!" 

Bro tries to grab Schneep's arm again-

But Schneep slips away, leaping forward again, eyes full of static as he tries to slash at Marvin. Yes—this is fun! This is what he wants!

Marvin scrambles back to try to get away, Jackieboy trying to help him- But Schneep manages to slash across Marvin's leg, making him cry out. Marvin growls and tries to throw fire back at Schneep. Schneep leaps out of the way, appearing behind Jackieboy as he slashes some more. Jackieboy yells out as he's slashed and whirls around trying to grab Schneep and punch him.

Bro looks between the two groups with conflicted eyes- and sees Anti out of his brother. Just seeing him makes him roar in rage as he tackles the glitch and tries to punch him over and over. "Y-You fucker! What the fuck did you do to my brother?!"

Anti isnt expecting this and he's too weak to pull away. But, he laughs like a maniac and grins at Bro, "I gave him a taste of strength~! Probably his last taste! Seems like your healer got too into kicking my ass to save your precious baby bro, Chase~!"

JJ's eyes widen in panic. No no no no! He can't let Alt die! Why isn't this working?! He quickly lets go of Alt and stares down at his hands. Work! Work damn you! The magic flakes swirling around his fingers are still bright red. He tries to concentrate. Come on! What has he done?!

What he had to.

"Nn—!" JJ clutches his head. No! If he'd known that this would be the consequence, he wouldn't have tried it at all! He didn't have to do it. Why did he think he had to?! There could've been another way if he tried!

"Jameson, really, get a hold of yourself!" Jackie grabs JJ, shaking him. "Fucking concentrate! The other magician is being attacked by our hypnotized friend, you're the only one who can do this right now!"

JJ nods, taking deep breaths. He has to concentrate. He's not going to risk touching Alt until he has his magic under control, but he's got to try turning it normal again.

Schneep dodges the punch, laughing, and lunging forward again, scissors aimed for Jackie's chest. Jackieboy grabs Schneep's arm and twists it behind his back and throws him to the ground and pins him there. "That's enough! Marv! Help their other friend!"

Schneep shrieks angrily and struggles against Jackieboy's hold. "Let go! Let go!"

"G-Got it!" Marvin says as he rushes over. He sees JJ struggling with his magic and gently cups his hands, "Hey- I know its hard... just- try to picture the light and what you want to fight for, okay?" He smiles and then turns to presses fingers to Alt's neck and mumbles an incantation that starts to heal Alt's wound, stitching the skin back together.

JJ nods slowly. He looks down at his hands again. Picture the light. Picture what he wants to fight for. These guys, of course. His new friends. And all his friends back at home. Marvin, Schneep, Jackie, Anti. What would they say about this? They wouldn't want this for him. As he concentrates on them, the red in his magic slowly fades, the blue returning.

"No!" Anti yells with a snarl but Bro just slams him back into the ground. "Face it fucker! You've lost! Get the fuck out of here before I find out how to kill a figment myself!" The hero yells. 

Anti laughs at this and gives Bro a condensing smirk before starting to turn into pixels. "Fine... this isn't fun anymore. Good luck finding a way home~" He giggles sarcastically before dissolving away into glitches, his laugh echoing in the air.

Once Anti is gone, Bro tears over to crash next to Alt. "Is he okay?!" 

JJ looks at Bro. I—think he'll be fine? he says, a look of uncertainty on his face.

Marvin's magic is making good progress, the wound becoming a mostly closed puffy red scar. Marvin slumps back a bit, sweating as he shudders. "Y-Yeah I... f-focused on closing the muscles back together since t-that's what's most dangerous about a- slit throat..."

"No! Anti! Anti!" Schneep fought harder against Jackieboy's hold. Why did Anti leave him?!

"Jesus, Schneep!" Jackie gets up and walks over to his other self and Schneep. "Wake up! You don't want to be this dependent on someone, do you?!"

"A-Anti—"

"Shut the fuck up about Anti! He's gone, he's left you!"

Schneep glares at him, but... he's right. He's right, isn't he?

Jackieboy holds Schneep down still and just sadly shakes his head, "...I’m sorry... h-he doesn't care for anyone but himself and his fun. W-We'll get all this outta ya okay?"

"D-doesn't care...?" Schneep stutters. "G-get it out?" He blinks, then laughs. "Wh-what if you cannot get it out? I-I am a glitch! I b-broke the laws of the world! S-something must have gone wrong--s-some in—in—un—Unvereinbarkeit!" He struggles against Jackieboy. "This is who I was meant to be!"

“No it’s not!” Jackieboy cries out

The black bars gather around his form as he starts to fizzle, but Jackie lunges forward and helps his other self pin him down, breaking his concentration. "I don't care if you're a glitch or not! Nobody is meant to hurt people!" he snaps.

 “Anti thrives off making people act completely opposite from how they usually are!” Jackieboy continues. “I’m sure you’re not like this normally! Think, dude! Think about what you want- what you fight for!”

"Wh-what I want...?" Schneep blinks.

"Yes!" Jackie shakes him slightly. "What you want! It's not what you think, I can promise you that! Your Anti did terrible things to you, didn't he? Well—right now you're acting a bit like him."

"N-no!" Schneep twists around. "How would you know?!"

"Because of how you've talked about him!" Jackie insists. "Do you want to be compared to that guy?! The guy who tormented your friends?!"

"N-n-n—" Schneep shakes his head. The static in his eyes fades a little, fuzzing away from his irises. The white noise in him still screams for blood, for chaos, for pain. But beneath it, he can hear voices—familiar voices, trying to reach him. He can't quite hear what they're saying, though. "I-Ich—n—"

Alt groans and blearily blinks open his eyes, looking out in confusion. "...mmm...? G...guys...?" He slurs. He tries to look around and push himself up but almost completely slumps back to the floor. "s...sch...nep- where's...?"

JJ points to the side, where the Jackies are dealing with Schneep.

Alt struggles to push himself up, “S-Schneep!” He croaks out, and Bro tries to catch him and hold him up. “Alt careful!”

“Help… I-I gotta h-help-“ Alt breathes then coughs harshly.

“Dude you just had your neck spilt open! We can figure this out…” Bro tries to reason.

JJ half-reaches out, wanting to help support Alt too, but he hesitates. Alt, do you really think you can help? Without pushing yourself? He looks at Bro. He should be able to try, at least... if it won't hurt him.

Alt unsteadily looks at JJ and Bro and nods. “…I c-can take the glitches I… I can handle them. S-Schneep can’t…”

Bro looks wary but he eventually nods. “L-Lemme help you…”

Bro helps Alt over and Alt kneels down next to Schneep, and shakily tries to take his hand. “Hen…? Can you hear me?” He whispers.

Schneep jumps at the surprise touch, too stuck in his inner world to pay attention to the sense of souls approaching. "A-Anti? Nein, Alt. Alt." He squeezes Alt's hand. "I—D-did I... h-hurt? Too much? Again?"

Alt shakes his head, “N-not you…” 

JJ wanders over. What are you planning to do? he asks.

"Whatever it is, do it quick," Jackie says through gritted teeth. "He might start fighting again."

Alt looks at JJ and then pulls up Schneep’s sleeve and tries to find the slash that Anti put the glitches into. He finds the strangely green glitchy cut and closes his eyes before putting his hands over it. “I’m… I’m getting these out of Hen… by giving them somewhere else to go.” His eyes glow bright blue before his body starts to dissolve into pixels. “Like calls to like…” Then he dives into the cut in a collection of pixels.

It hurts at first- uncomfy rough pixels collecting inside Schneep’s skin. Then, the pain and madness starts to recede- clarity returning.

After about a minute Alt is shot back out, first as straight pixels, then he hits the ground and snaps back together. He grits his teeth, eyes shut in pain as red and black glitches vibrate around him and eat at his skin. Then- they fade to his normal blue green color and he slumps, clearly exhausted.

“Woah!” Jackieboy exclaims in surprise. “T-The fuck just happened?? He can glitch like Anti??”

Marvin hovers over Alt with concern. Bro rushes over to help him up. “Alt!”

“‘M okay… ‘m okay I swear…” Alt slurs, eyes rolling a bit in his head.

JJ reaches out as Alt returns but hesitates, unsure.

Schneep gasps, blinking his eyes as if trying to clear something away. The static recedes, and his eyes are their normal—well, not normal, but usually possible—black and turquoise. “Wh-what the fuck…?” He whispers.

“You okay, Schneep?” Jackie asks.

“I-I am fi—mein Gott! I-I am so sorry!” He goes a bit pale as the gravity of his actions fully sink in. “I-I am so—I never thought—I-I tried—”

“Hey, no, it’s okay, we get it,” Jackie reassures him. “These guys do, too. Sounds like they’ve dealt with this Anti fucker a lot.” 

Jackieboy looks sympathetic and nods. “We get it… god we get it man. You’re okay…” 

Jackie looks over at Alt. “Are you sure you’re okay, man? You look out of it.”

Alt’s eyelids flutter as he tries to look at Jackie. He tries to say something but just ends up groaning and slumping against Bro. Bro frowns in worry and feels his forehead. A little warm… at least it seems like those red marks from JJ’s black magic are receding.

He probably needs rest, JJ says. And you all need to… heal. He looks at his hands again, testing to see if his magic is still blue. It is.

“Henrik has a room saved for us in the hospital for hero emergencies,” Marvin explains, “I can take you all there to rest and wrap up our wounds if you’d like? I… it took a lot of magic to make sure that slit throat d-didn’t… you know so I… I probably can’t heal much more.”

“That’d be great, Marvin,” Jackie says, wincing as he stands up. He forgot he got fucking stabbed. “Don’t worry about not healing, really. You kinda had to prioritize.”

“I-I am… so sorry,” Schneep says. “Truly.”

I’m sorry, too, JJ says.

“What? You don’t have to be sorry for anything, Jameson,” Jackie says.

JJ smiles at him weakly but says nothing. He walks over to Schneep and helps him stand up. Schneep mumbles a thank you and reaches out to grab his cane from nowhere.

Marvin gives JJ a knowing look and nods in sympathy. JJ glances back at him, surprised, and then softens a little. If this Marvin knows what that was... well, he's sorry that happened, but he's happy that someone understands.

“It’s okay Schneep…” Bro mumbles, “You couldn’t help it… I’m sorry we let Anti take you..  both of you.”

“Sorry fests aren’t helpful, mates.” Jackieboy sighs and gets to his feet. “Let’s just focus on moving forward, alright?”

Jackie shakes his head, laughing. "Right. No sorry fests. I gotta keep that in mind."

Marvin chuckles a bit at this and nods, closing his eyes and transporting them to the hospital.

[ikemenomegas]

Gave my love

Portgas D Ace x Reader || Shooting Stars

a/n: Make a Wish prompt fill for panda-anon. I am crying because my first draft spun off into the void of my own technological mishaps, so I hope the second version is satisfactory. I'm sorry it took so long (it took forever for me to do the rewrite these last few weeks have been a bit hectic) I hope that you enjoy it! I apologize if Ace seems at all ooc, it's been a long time since I last took a deep dive into his character. He reads to me as someone who would be kind of a tsundere about romantic feelings but able to be happy if he told himself it was "just friends" so he could pretend to be normal about it. The boy has so many excuses: Butterflies? he's happy to see you, feeling hot? he's made of fire, jealous of your attention? you were his friend first... (also the linked song aged remarkably well, it's fun and noisy and is where the title came from) Thank you so much to my friend who braved an omegaverse fic to edit for me. I hate editing my own stuff and she did such a good job making sure that things weren't too obtuse. cw: omegaverse, alpha!reader, Ace's canon compliant self worth issues

The trouble with narcolepsy isn't the daytime hours. He'd learned to manage those when he was a kid. The trouble comes at night, when his body is visited with the opposite impulse.

Ace rolls over for the nth time. Now, with the same insistence it had put him to sleep, his body pulls him awake.

He follows that pull with heavy, silent steps. He stretches his arms above his head and feels his back pop. He leaves his hat by his bunk, suddenly eager for the sea breeze through his hair.

He hesitates for a moment. Though he no longer gets cold, he considers wrapping something around his shoulders. His pillows and blankets still smell faintly of you. He looks at the bed.

No one is around to accuse him of something so treacherous as longing, but he still jerks his head away and pretends as if he hadn't spent much too long considering such a thing.

When he leaves the covered floors of the ship a bird - he cannot see where it come from - flutters down and nearly clips his head. It's not a seagull. He wonders for a moment, could it be?, but he quickly casts the thought away. Probably not.

A flash of light streaks across the sky, distracting him.

The worn railing is smooth, almost soft, beneath his fingertips when he leans over it. He folds his arms and lays his head in the cradle of his elbow.

He's been dealing with insomnia for the better part of a decade, either waking in the night or not sleeping at all. He'd see Luffy, sprawled out on the floor of the hideout, snot bubbles and not a care in the world. Even though his little brother didn't often notice his midnight absences, even when Ace would show up with prey in the morning, being unnoticed had not left him feeling unwanted.

Knowing someone was waiting staved off the loneliness. Becoming Whitebeard's son had been the best decision of his life. Yet tonight, he has no desire to disturb the sentries or wake a crew member for company.

A glossy black crow lands on the rail within easy reach. It cocks its head at him, warbling low in the back of its throat. Ace narrows his eyes at it, staring until the crow shrinks back, feather ruffling. This was the bird that had almost hit the back of his head, he's sure of it.

It looks almost sheepish at it places a little bag on the rail between them.

When he doesn't pick it up right away, the bird pushes it closer with one delicate claw, bobbing its head.

He picks it up slowly, keeping an eye on the bird. It tilts its head back and forth, clicking in the back of its throat. It takes him a moment to catch it in the dim light: the reflection of your Eye in the black marble of the crow's.

A grin showing teeth makes its way across his face.

"Hey," he said.

"Hi." Sound comes out of the crow's open beak like there is a microphone in its throat, like there's a snail in its belly. It doesn't move in synchrony with the words, but in an unsettling sort of pantomime.

Your voice is made ragged by the crow, but even with one word he knows it is yours. His grin goes lopsided and he weighs the pouch in his hand.

"Fancy seeing you here, pretty bird" he says.

The crow makes a hacking sort of cough he knows to be its version of your scoff coming from its mouth, but the bird rubs its beak against the gleaming wood of the ship, as though to take the sting from the sound.

"I do occasionally have good timing," it says with your voice.

He leans his head on his arms and looks directly at the bird. His gaze cuts through the animal in front of him and to you on the other side. One side of his bangs falls across his eye.

He has some idea of what you do, but not exactly. He knows it's dangerous, for a certain value of dangerous. You go to places he hasn't seen yet.

When he asks you where you are, you tell him about places you've been, never where you recently were. You don't relent even when he pries, whining low in his throat at your typical evasiveness. The crow speaks the rusted over name of some island he's never heard of.

When he asks you how training is going, the bird does some funny little movements that require it to over-correct when it nearly falls off the rail and imitates the sounds of bo staffs colliding.

The sentry peeks down from a higher level. Ace waves them off, feeling suddenly defensive. He wants to keep this moment a secret.

The bird freezes, looking up from where it's hunched over in an all too human kind of expression that reminds him of the last time you were a guest of the Whitebeard pirates and you'd raided the kitchens with him, sneaking around with unnecessary stealth, pressing back as if to hide him from every passing shadow until he was giggling into your shoulder, you scents mingling as you sweated under the hot atmosphere of a nearby volcanic island.

He snickers as the bird shakes its feathers flat again, giving an experimental little croak and finally straightening up when the noise doesn't immediately bring the sentry back running, looking out for his crewmate. The bird bumps his hand, as if to draw attention to it, and Ace draws his fingers through the soft, smooth feathers.

When you creakily ask him about his own recent adventures, you offer tidbits from the news to get him started, and it warms him in a very strange way to think you've been keeping an eye on him.

Eventually, the late night catches up and a comfortable quiet settles around the two of you.

Ace listens to the crow's low gargly kkqrk as it moves on its perch. He smirks to himself at the sight of the shining black bird shifting against the star scattered, velvet night.

"Are you going to open it?" you, finally ask. The bird pecks emphatically at the rail by the velvety bag.

All of the bird's expressive hopping and pecking for excited emphasis is so very un-human. It amuses him to imagine you puppetting the creature, instructing it to dip and flap for his benefit, even though he knows it is more akin to the bird itself interpreting your emotions.

Even so when the bird, looks at him, he can almost see the pleading look only you can pull off. Truly and delightfully uncanny.

He sighs as if it is all a chore, bobbing the pouch up and down on the string wound around his fingers. The crow follows with the movement with its beak and then its whole body.

"Should I?" he muses. "Suppose I save it-"

The bird all but stamps its little grey scaled foot in expressing your impatience and he laughs at you, at the odd humanity of the motion, as he finally does open the bag, drawstrings tangled in his fingers.

The contents of the pouch glitters, even in the starlight.

"How nice," he says, opening the mouth of the bag wide to reveal an array of crystals inside. "A good bit of shine."

All pirates of course liked things that gleamed. As did crows. The bird tilts its head between his face and the bits of rock in his hand.

He shifts them around in the bag. There are many colors.

"You should try one," it - you - says, shifting its weight. The bird stayed almost perfectly still, head tilted as it took in his incredulous expression.

"I am not dumb enough to eat rocks."

"I know."

The bird, peers up at him, blankly expectant.

Ace looks back in the bag and eventually plucks one of the crystals out. It's orange bleeding into purple like a storm ridden twilight and edged like the inside of a geode.

He glances once more at the bird, at you, but the creature just shuffles its wings to sit more primly against its body. Ace has never been very good at backing down from a dare.

Still he bites down very very carefully.

The crystal cracks apart under his teeth and spills sweetness on his tongue - plum and passion fruit, tart and bright and dark again, like the last touch of a setting sun. The outside is hard and cool like stone, but falls away to jelly by the time his bite sinks to the center.

He cannot help the way his eyes go slightly wide.

"Where are these from?" he asks.

"I made them," your voice slips from the bird's parted beak, almost shy. "The King of Kettles taught me," you add fondly.

He nibbles on more of the crystal, candy he now knows. Rock candy, he thinks as he grins to himself. He's not sure when the last time someone brought him candy of all things. Sugar is expensive no matter its source, and sometimes hard to find among the islands. Even syrups made from fruit would take a long time to make.

"Make sure to brush your teeth!" The crow interrupts his thoughts with a trumpeting, too loud, cackling sort of caw.

He stuffs a corner of the crystal into the crow's beak, interrupting the sound with a choking, fluttering, sputtering.

One thing about birds is that regardless of interpretation, they are sometimes not very good at managing their volume.

The crow hunches over, sending Ace as dirty a look as it can manage. You consider having it play dead, just to get back at him, but the shuffling attention of the sentries has you, the crow, freezing in his shadow.

You are reminded, somewhat guiltily, that your welcome on Whitebeard's territory does not give you unrestricted access, even for stolen moments like this.

But again, Ace waves off the inquisitive sentries, and they go, because he is the commander of the second division.

Ace can tell that they're curious, but this is for him, for now. In the morning if they or anyone asks, he will tell and laugh and tease. And it will be real.

This is real too. He feels protective of this moment, even if it is only a crow with your Eye as a glossy, curved reflection. It's his little secret.

It's not in his nature to keep secrets. Not for long. But for a while, he wants to keep this one. Not out of shame, not like the other, but because this one is warm like a glowing coal.

It is his, to follow the direction of a falling star and have a bird deliver him a gift and a conversation. You can't tell him where you are or where you're going, but you have frequent, funny little names that are familiar enough that you can tell him stories and he knows of whom you speak. The King of Kettles, Catfish, the Forlorn Maiden - all of them people he has never and likely will never meet.

Do you have a secret name for him, do you tell people about him? Something meant to safeguard him from the world?

Will there ever be a time when he isn't the secret? When that secret doesn't drag a darkness along behind it to cover those who know?

Another flash of light goes across the sky - blink and you'll miss it.

He sees it, you don't, going in the same direction as before. It flies away into the night.

Slowly, through the odd technicolor vision of the crow, you see a closed off, thoughtful expression take the place of the easy smile from before.

"What are you thinking of?"

The crow's hissed approximation of a whisper should be unsettling but it isn't.

Ace leans his arm on the railing and looks over at you, at the crow. The corner of his mouth lifts up, but he can't put enough of his heart into it to cover the melancholy.

He finds himself wishing for your scent. Sending a bird is one thing, but if he had not seen the Eye, he wouldn't have even been able to tell you it was you there, and not some well trained pet.

"I wish you were here," he sighs, reaching out to run a finger over the bird's smooth head feathers.

The bird ruffles its wings and says nothing. There is a long moment of nothing, long enough that Ace thinks of going back to bed. Sleep is finally reaching for him, he can feel the chill of it on his skin.

It's through the quiet of the dark that it finds him, a dull sound, almost at the edge of hearing.

He reaches out with his awareness, scanning the sea for any creature stupid enough to attack one of Whitebeard's fleet. A Sea King would be a bit of bedtime fun. Or it might be the distant sound of canons, although intuition tells him that isn't it.

The sound gets closer. It is not canons or the writhing movements of a deep water monster. It is more like someone shaking out sheets, but as regular as a sleeper's heart - the flap of wings.

He sees a shape, black on black, in the distance. It vanishes between one blink and the other, melting into the night. Another shimmer of light falls overhead while the wingbeats suddenly disappear.

Ace remembers owls and the way they hunt, swooping silently down upon their prey. He looks up to see if the watch is at all disturbed, and then to his left. The crow is gone.

The wingbeats return, now soft and so close. Right below him. He looks over the rail and a familiar face rises up to meet him.

This crow upon which you sit is longer than him if he were to lay down, feet and fingers pointed as far as they would go. It drifts upon the shallow eddy stirred up by the ship, drifting alongside.

"Hello," you say. You're smiling. Teasing snatches of scent get caught in the sea breeze.

From behind, the crow that had been your mouthpiece swoops down upon your shoulder.

"Willful thing," you say to it.

It croaks, head bobbing cheekily.

"Hi," he says. His heart feels like it's soaring, light alongside you, every whoosh of blood a wingbeat.

"I heard you," you say, nudging the crow's chest with your finger.

"You do occasionally have good timing," he says, grinning wide.

The enormous bird flaps a few times, slowly, up to the level of the rail.

He catches you when you slide over the side of the ship and step onto the deck. He never feels the flames when they come from him, but your palm sliding over his makes him feel like he's burning.

"I think I'm going to be in trouble with your Father," you say, shrugging a shoulder, "for the bird."

It croaks again, and then caws, as if to prove a point. The both of you wince.

"I'll tell him you came for me," Ace replies. He doesn't bother to keep quiet now, but that's alright. The bag of sweets you brought him dangles around his wrist like a charm.

You're a little breathless when you look at him. He can see stars reflected in your eyes.

"Whenever you want me."

[jaeyleo]

LOCKS OR KEYS: PART 8

YOU CHOSE: OPEN THE DOORS- CONTINUE WITH CHASE.

Your decisions allow buried memories to resurface. This is overwhelming for your character, and his mind suffers from the weight of it all.

cws: flashbacks, dehumanization, non human whumper, whumper is also caretaker, electric shock, force feeding, eye trauma, mentions of a seizure, sick whumpee, mentions of hypnosis. lmk if i should add more!

. . .

Screaming, screaming, screaming.

Chase's head feels like it could explode. Too many sounds, too many colors, too many voices and commands and knives and soft touches and- and-

Pseudo hushes him, raking fingers through the puppet's hair. "Pink, dolly, take a deep breath."

But Pink isn't there. Chase falls into the hands of his monster, and finds himself in a new place. Somewhere deep inside his head.

. . .

Cellar.

"Please, p- please!! I can't do it, please!"

"Shhh. It's just a pop quiz, Pink. You'll do just fine."

Chase's arms are chained behind him, with ankles cuffed to both legs of the chair. Hot tears pour down his cheeks, soaking into clothes that are already soaked with blood. He shivers, freezing in the cellar air, terrified of what he sees in front of him.

Just a few feet away, Pseudo holds a stun gun. He sits in a foldable chair, relaxed and comfortable in his position of power here. He owns Pink, and that's a wonderful feeling.

"Tell me your name," he says.

"Pink!" Chase doesn't hesitate in saying it. He may as well be saying please. "It's Pink, Pink, I'm P- Pink!"

"Good," Pseudo praises. "Now tell me your age."

"T- twenty seven..!"

"Mhm. And how about-" Pseudo covers his eyes with his free hand, "the color of my eyes?"

"Brown!"

"Very good!"

Pseudo returns to his original position, with both hands placed leisurely on the stun gun.

"Now, last question, dolly. If you get it right, I'll put this away, hm?"

Chase nods, eager and afraid in the same shaking breath.

"What time is it?"

The puppet freezes. There are no clocks and no windows to tell the time in here. He wasn't told when they got down here, and he wouldn't know how much has passed. It all feels like an eternity of pain and blood.

He trembles, searching his mind for answers. What time was breakfast? How long did it take to clean the kitchen? When was lunch? How long did washing the sheets take? It isn't dinner time yet, is it??

"N- nn-" Chase begins to panic. His breath halts in his chest and he has to shake the terror off himself, like a puppy emerging from falling into a swimming pool.

"Can I have a h- hint??"

Pseudo sighhhhhss, lulling his head to the left, the right, the left, up straight again..

"Mmm.... it was about 4:30 when we came down here."

"A- and how long have we been down here??"

Pseudo chuckles at him, his stupid doll. "That's not a hint, dolly, that's just the answer."

A breath escapes the puppet's mouth. "R- right," he says, defeated. "Okay..."

Think, think, think.

He rocks back and forth, clawing at his mind to provide the answer. How long has it been? How long does it feel like? What time is it? What time is it? What time is it?????

"Um, u- um..."

"Come now, Pink. We don't have all evening."

A soft sob bubbles out from his neck. There's no way he's getting this right.

"Is- i- is it... i- is it um.... s- six- no, no, seven, is it seven?"

"Let's see.."

Pseudo pulls his phone out from his pocket, and flips it open.

He stares at the clock, and Chase stares at his monster. Pseudo lets the tension hang in the air, drinking in the sounds of his puppet's pounding heart.

"Is it seven??? I- hh??"

The monster shuts the phone with a click, and places it back inside his pocket.

"Six fifty- three."

He raises the gun, pointing at Chase's shoulder.

"N- no, no!! No!! I was so close, please!! Please Pseudo!! Plea--!"

Chase's words are cut short. He wails, tensing and then falling limp as the pain takes over his entire body.

. . .

Kitchen.

"Open up."

Chase's mouth stays glued shut. Each hand curls a fist into his sweatpants, a desperate attempt at keeping them down. Any minute now, he swears, he's going to take that stupid spoon and shove it down Pseudo's throat.

In his reply, Chase only shakes his head.

"Oh, come now, don't be difficult. You haven't eaten since yesterday."

When he speaks, Chase keeps his teeth clamped together. "I'll eat if I can feed myself."

"Nooo, you'll eat if I tell you to. Now open up.."

He presents the spoon to Chase's mouth, gently tapping the food against his bottom lip. The puppet finally accepts, opens his jaw, and spits it in the monster's face.

For a moment, they only look at eachother. Chase knows what he did is bad. He knows he'll be punished, but he doesn't care. He's going to be hurt anyway, right?

Still, this hurt could've been avoided.

Pseudo's hand comes around to slap the toy hard across the face. It's enough to almost send him reeling out of the chair, gripping onto the table and stomping the floor as not to go flying to the ground. Before he can bring his own hands to cup the sting across his cheek, Pseudo grabs the collar of his shirt, and yanks him to the floor.

Chase yelps, losing his breath as Pseudo climbs on top to straddle him. He hunches over the doll like an animal, a feral spark running around inside his pupils. Chase feels so small beneath him, like a worm under a bird's claw, ready to be swallowed whole.

The spoon comes to meet Chase's lower eyelid, still hot from the food that was so rudely spat back out. Pseudo presses the spoon down, ever so slightly, and Chase feels his eye shift in its socket.

"Do you need to learn your table manners again, pet?"

The puppet's hands clamp around his monster's wrist. "Get off!!"

Pseudo does not relent. He presses the spoon down further, causing the puppet to start seeing double, triple, a black spot where his eye contacts the top of the socket.

"You should answer me, you know. I could do some terrible things to you."

He presses further, and Chase digs his nails into Pseudo's skin. He feels as though his eye could pop right out of his head.

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry!"

"That isn't an answer."

More pressure. More pain. Chase feels air in places he shouldn't.

"Ah! No!!! Nono I don't, I don't, I'm sorry!"

"You don't what, Pink? Show me you understand."

"I--!" Pink digs his nails deeper into his monster's wrist. "I don't-- I don't need to learn table manners, I'm sorry! Nh- please!"

"Good," Pseudo croons, and slowly, slowly, releases the pressure on his puppet's eye. He lets a few moments pass before reaching a hand to caress Pink's face, thumb stroking gentle across the cheekbone that was hit. The doll shrinks away, closing his eyes.

"I want you to prove it, now, Pink. Otherwise..." the spoon draws a line, following the curve of Chase's eye socket. He speaks soft, higher pitched, like talking to a child. A puppy, a worm under his claw. "Do you understand?"

"Y- yes, Pseudo.."

"Good.."

Pseudo moves off, and Chase climbs back in his chair. He holds his eye and stinging cheek in his hand before Pseudo swats it away, reminding him table manners include no hands above the waist.

Pseudo sets himself down, too, and presents the food to Chase's mouth once more.

"Open up."

Chase opens his mouth. Food is placed inside, but he doesn't chew.

"....Eat."

The puppet obeys, avoiding his monster's eyes throughout the rest of the meal.

. . .

Home.

The house is happy.

Chase cradles his daughter on the couch, running soft hands through waving blond hair. A cartoon drones on in the background, capturing the little girl's attention completely.

She giggles at the characters, and Chase's heart swells with love.

"They're silly," she comments, turning her head to her father. A wide smile takes her face over, with one missing tooth to top it off.

"Yeah, they are silly, aren't they?"

He smiles down at her, and plants a kiss on her forehead. A small hand reaches up to tap the end of his nose.

Chase smiles wider. He is so full of love he can barely stand it.

. . .

Somewhere in Denmark.

Somewhere far away. Somewhere, where old love and safety and sanity aren't a guarantee. Somewhere deep inside his head, Chase is pulled up, up into reality.

He feels like he's trapped underwater, and Pseudo is the one to drag him out. Up, up, up, through swamps and moss and dirt, through water that's thick as clotted blood. His eyes droop, his bones fall limp, Chase cannot breathe with the pressure in his chest. The water tastes of soap, and a sourness that makes his teeth chatter.

He wants to sink again, into memories good and bad. Wants to be anywhere but here. Anywhere, somewhere, somewhere deep inside his head.

Chase groans, a migraine holding him hostage. The lights are too bright, even behind closed eyelids. His blanket is so warm. Is he comfortable? Too tired to tell.

He opens his lazy eyes, seeing his small attic room surround him. He feels sick. Horrible. Tears wet his eyes but he doesn't remember why.

Beside him, Pseudo watches him rest. The puppet startles when he sees his monster, and he tries desperately to sit up. He can only claw the sheets.

Pseudo tilts his head as the puppet shoves himself into the wall. The blanket provides a shield of false protection, and he holds on as if life depends on it.

"You had some scary nightmares, huh?"

Chase only stares.

"Mh. Well, you slept for a while. You even had a seizure."

The puppet's brows furrow. "Really?" he croaks.

"Mhm. Does your head hurt?"

Chase nods. Pseudo reaches out his hand, slow and steady. Even so, the puppet shrinks away, closing his eyes as if expecting to be slapped or clawed or scratched.

But the monster is gentle, brushing away pink hair to feel the doll's forehead. The coolness of his hand is comforting. Chase can't help but relax a little in his touch.

"You still have a fever..." Pseudo runs his hand over the puppet's hair, petting softly. "... Are you hungry?"

"No.."

"Liar."

"I don't wanna eat."

"It'll make you feel better."

"Will it?"

Pseudo gives a soft smile. He helps the doll sit up, gently hushing him as he whimpers and whines about his head swimming, his muscles hurting, ow, Pseudo, please-

"Shhhhh. It's okay, Pink.."

On the end table, a bowl of warm soup waits to be eaten. The monster takes a spoonful, blows, and presents it to Chase's hesitant mouth.

"Come now... eat. You'll feel better."

The puppet frowns, and accepts. Bite after bite, it feels warm and heavy in his stomach, warm and heavy and delicious. Pseudo was right. He does feel better.

They wash it down with cool water, and Chase breathes a sigh of relief at the taste. He may still feel sick and afraid, but he's not thirsty, not hungry, and not cold, and that's more than enough right now.

Pseudo pushes the empty dishes aside, and returns his hands to playing with Pink's hair. The puppet sinks into the feeling, sleepiness pulling down his weight. He feels comfortable. Sick, but comfortable.

"You've been anxious lately," Pseudo says gently. "You're trying to get back into a headspace that's not good for you."

Chase opens his eyes.

"I hate to see you suffer like that, Pink. It breaks my heart."

"I don't wanna be your toy.."

Pseudo sighs, stroking the doll's cheek with his thumb. Sweet thing.

"I need to run to the store again. I forgot my sugar."

"I- I can't, I don't wanna-"

"No, shhh. You're staying in bed."

Chase relaxes again, falling victim to the gentle touches of his monster.

"Can I trust you to rest?"

The puppet nods. He's too sick to get up anyway. Everything hurts, especially his head.

"Good doll.. I'll be back soon."

He plants one gentle kiss on Chase's forehead, and leaves him to rest alone.

. . .

As the minutes pass, the puppet finds himself unable to sleep. His head hurts, his body aches, oh, God, he feels horrible. He almost wishes Pseudo hypnotized him before he left.

While he lays there, Chase begins to wonder. He heard the door close, but no keys, and no starting car. It's no secret that Pseudo can travel long distances without transport, as part of his magic allows him to do so. Could he have left the car keys?

"No, no, don't think like that," Chase says allowed. He runs his hands over his face, and tries to get comfortable again. But the thought plagues him.

Did he leave the car keys?

Even if he won't escape, he could still check, right? Then at least he knows, and he can get some sleep. Yes, yes, he'll just check and see..

Chase drags himself up, groaning as a dizziness swirls the entire room around. A chill takes over him as well, and he reaches for the smaller blanket on the bed to wrap around his shoulders. God, he feels like shit.

Eventually he makes his way out of his room, leaning against walls and railings as not to go tumbling to the ground. Walking is a chore, and his feet ache with every step. Pins and needles climb up his legs like leeches, and he finds himself in pain with every. Single. Step.

Down the stairs, into the living room.

The car keys hang on the wall by door.

Chase freezes. He can only stare.

[snowdrrops]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 崩坏：星穹铁道 | Honkai: Star Rail (Video Game) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Blade/Dan Heng (Honkai: Star Rail) Characters: Blade (Honkai: Star Rail), Dan Heng (Honkai: Star Rail), March 7th (Honkai: Star Rail), Stelle (Honkai: Star Rail), Welt Yang (Honkai), mentioned Himeko (Honkai: Star Rail) - Character Additional Tags: Blade is Called Ren (Honkai: Star Rail), Secret Relationship, Cats Summary:

march and stelle discover the nature of dan heng's relationship with ren in unconventional ways

[enclosedgod]

the choice is a difficult one to make. even now as she makes her approach, veronica can feel hesitation weigh heavy on her body. each step across the barrack halls is as lightning strikes, and her breath hitches unevenly upon every exhale. her thoughts on embla remain divided, even now that it's been months since she saw the goddess last. her anger cannot be denied, but so can the strange softness that twists her heart awful.

and so, in spite of this pain— because of this pain— the emblian heir trudges on. she walks and walks until she stands an arm's length from embla, and stops in front of her with all the grave finality of a funeral bell. veronica faces her with a lifted chin. in part, to assert confidence; in truth, to fight back the tears that traitorously prick at the corners of her eyes.

"embla." veronica's voice starts off evenly, but it soon breaks into pieces— jagged shards of hurt, anger, and bitterness that are sharp enough to pierce.

"we… need to talk. don't try to fight. you can't, now that you're in askr. besides, i…" she squeezes her eyes shut, as though to ward off a migraine, "i know why you're like this… so don't make this any more difficult than it needs to be by running away. let's talk. now."

"You assume I would want to give myself unnecessary attention? Impudent child-" Embla stopped dead in her tracks, her blood... this woman was of her blood. She could feel it. A small smile came to her face, it was easy to assume the shorter woman would have answers to all of her questions. The god just needed to find out how to ask them without giving herself away.

Something about her was... strange, though. There was a disconnect between them that shouldn't be there. Just as quickly as that uneasy smile appeared, it returned to a scowl. "What is there to talk about? I have nothing to say to anyone. If you're going to prod me about things you think you know about me, you are wrong. I won't run, but you better make this worth my time." Her terrifying eyes narrowed, she took a step backwards, attempting to gain more distance between them. Being so close to someone made her uncomfortable.

[midnightenigmados]

Okay, so I'm a bit late to the party, but I finally finished this baby from WWT. Just a heads up, it's a bit(a lot) more angsty than I initially intended so read with caution if that's not your gig. I promise it ends happy!!

Summary: Fresh from experimentation, Danny finds himself hiding in the walls of some old, dilapidated building. Feeling safe within its bounds, he succumbs to sleep, unaware of what is about to transpire. WC: 7,865

Cold.

That’s all Danny could feel.

The biting cold of the wind on his face as he flew around what looked to be a city. The empty pit in his chest as he held what little threads he had left of himself together. The chill of his blood that ran down his fingers, eventually fading into the night.

Once upon a time, the cold brought a certain comfort to him.

Now, it only brought him pain.

How long had he been flying?

Danny couldn’t recall. Time slipped past him like grains in an hourglass, the city lights blurring into one solid mass. 

When did it get so bright? Was he not just in the countryside? 

He supposed it didn’t matter, as long as he got away safely.

‘Safe,’ he scoffed to himself. He wasn’t quite sure he knew what that word meant anymore.

All he knew was cold.

And pain.

He yawned.

And exhaustion, he supposed, if Danny was making a list. Surely, he’s flown far enough now. Enough for a nap, at least. 

Still, it was risky to stop. They had tools to follow and track him. Methods to stop him. Ways to force him out of hiding, if necessary.

It was best if they didn’t even get the chance.

And yet…

Danny blinked.

When he opened his eyes again, a mere moment later, his world had shifted. Tilted, racing past him as he fell down down down.

He came to his senses just in time to catch himself before crashing onto a roof, a cloud of gravel and dust puffing up around him as he laid spread-eagle, staring at the stars for the first time in months.

He couldn’t see them.

At first he assumed it was the city lights blocking him with light pollution, but that had never been an issue before. He glanced around, trying to discern his surroundings, but…

Oh.

Everything was blurry.

Could it have been the experiments? Danny wouldn’t be surprised. They had no reservations taking everything else from him, too. Why not take his vision while they’re at it?

The dust settles around him, dirtying his face and stinging his eyes. Still, he did not move.

The pain was nothing new to him, after all.

Something this small was hardly noticeable.

That was, until warm liquid trailed down the side of his face, settling within his inhumanely bright hair.

Danny blinked. He wasn't aware it had started to rain. Not that he could see the sky in the first place. And there was this obnoxious choking sound, as if someone was trying to cry out but couldn’t for some reason.

It hurt his ears.

Oh.

That was him.

He was crying.

That wouldn’t do. He couldn’t make noise. They would find him.

But, he couldn’t stop. He couldn’t think. He could hardly move.

Everything was cold and pain and tired.

Danny just wanted to sleep.

He needed to be safe. Just for a moment.

Just for a moment.

Biting back an unnecessary gasp for air, he mustered up what little energy he could find and spread it through his body. Not enough to oppose the limits of this universe, but just enough to disregard them a bit. 

He sank through the floor of the ceiling. Slowly, hesitantly, as if his body wasn’t quite sure where it belonged anymore, but eventually darkness overcame his vision.

A sense of nothingness overcame him as he became one with the building. It was a place where no one would be able to find him, at least for the moment. Sharing the space with the concrete walls of the building, where nothing, not even pockets of air, accompanied him. 

In a way it was like being buried alive. How fitting, for a half dead kid, to find respite in a scenario like this. He almost wanted to be disturbed. To find himself uncomfortable as the walls crushed in on him when he no longer had the strength to hold his intangibility perfectly and had to resort to his unconscious instincts. He wanted to be afraid of something normal again.

But, he wasn’t. This was the safest he found himself in months and the adrenaline that had been holding him for the past few days was finally wearing off, weighing at his eyelids and beaconing him to sleep.

Holding himself together, hoping that with sleep, his body would also find the energy to stitch itself back together, at least partially, so he could continue on his way shortly, Danny succumbed to his exhaustion, unaware of just what was about to occur in his very location.

`~`

How did it come to this?

Rhetorical question. Nightwing knew exactly how it came to this, he was just frustrated that it did.

What had been a routine drug bust on his visit to Gotham had quickly turned into a vigilante family reunion as their various cases somehow seemed to collide at once to the same thread. Which, in this city, is never a good thing.

From there, the situation escalated too fast for them to regroup or retreat. A building collapsed, set off by some chemicals inside. The fire and debris cascading across the surrounding block like perfectly set dominos ready to fall. Each member faced with an impossible decision again and again. Themselves or the city. The civilian or their friend. An innocent child or their son.

It was too perfect to be an accident. Too intricately aware of their own weaknesses to not be the work of one of their rogues.

So, when they found themselves in the same building, corralled there by some shepard of fate, Nightwing knew they had something big was about to go down. 

His hunch was proved correct when, not five minutes later, the fire had spread in such a manner that each field member ended up on the same floor. Close enough that they could see each other, and even talk without comms, if one could make their voice heard over the roar of the flames(a bad idea if the heavy smoke had anything to say about it), but blazing, fallen debris prevented any movement closer.

Nightwing grinned sardonically from his hunched over position, glancing back at his family.

A perfect recipe for his own downfall.

Nightwing also could not find it in him to be surprised when maniacal laughter drifted into his ear through the crackling of the fire. The children beneath him trembling at the sound.

“It’s okay. He won’t hurt you. I’ll protect you,” he whispered to them, plastering what he hoped to be a reassuring smile on his face as beads of sweat dripped down his chin.

“Batsy!! ….How about it..?” He could only vaguely hear what was going on the other side of the floor. The Joker’s shrill voice occasionally breaking through to, regrettably, find its way into Nightwing’s ears, “..ow’s this…one bad day,” the clown broke into giggles, maniacal and cruel.

He could hear Batman’s angry grunts as he protested whatever inane declaration’s the mad man was stuck on today. Red Robin’s frustrated exclamations as yet another piece of flaming rebar cut off his path to him. Robin’s rare cry of desperation as he is forced to choose between his ideal and brother.

A piece of debris fell from the floor above, managing to lodge itself across the wall Nightwing was currently supporting and ripping into his shoulder.

Distantly, he can hear his brother’s calling out to him, but everything is blinded out by the white, hot pain.

Still, Nightwing does not make a sound.

As much as he’d love to say it’s because he’s a super manly man that would never scream even under intense duress brought about by Joker’s pursuit, it's not.

It’s the children.

Shaking, clinging on to each other, the three of them couldn’t be more than five. Nightwing refuses to let them down.

They need to get out.

He glances around for some kind of path. Anything, anywhere that they could escape. Obviously, they can’t go towards Batman. They’d have to pass Joker to get to him. But Red Robin…

There. A small escape route. Much too small for any of the vigilantes present, but a perfect size for a child. 

Seeing his brother glancing his way, Nightwing makes eye contact and nods down to his small shelter before glancing back up. He sees a look of indignation pass over Red Robin’s face, a defiance that only those who have served their time as Robin can master, but it passes in favor of acceptance as he calculates all the different ways the scenario could play out from here.

Ever the strategist, his baby bird.

“Hey,” he speaks softly, so as to not startle the already frightened children, “Do you see Red Robin over there? He’s a good friend of mine and he’s standing right next to a little hole you three can get through. On the count of three, I want you to all hold hands and crawl as fast as you can to my friend. Can you do that?” Muscles and torn ligaments screaming in protest, Nightwing shifts so he’s looking the oldest in the eye and waits until the boy gives a shaky nod, grabbing the two smaller girls' hands.

“Ready? One. Two. Thr-”

The fire that was blazing so bright, is extinguished in but a moment.

Silence overcomes the hall, unnatural and heavy.

Left blinking in the sudden darkness with only touch to orient himself, a chill creeps up his back, nothing less than phantom needles as they contrast with the scorching heat of the wall. Nightwing has to suppress the urge to shudder, afraid even that movement could spell his end. 

He has to keep holding on. Until he can confirm the children’s safety at least.

He is so tired.

The air seems to only get thicker and Nightwing struggles to breath, eyelids pulling close as the world begins to crash down on him and tilts.

And then it’s gone.

The blistering heat is replaced by a cool sensation. Not too cold as to put him in sudden shock, but just enough to dispel the fire from before. The all-encompassing weight is left mercifully absent as he is left suspended by…something.

Is this what it’s like to die?

Did he…die?

Oh, his family is going to be pissed about that.

Nightwing opens his eyes.

This…has to be a hallucination.

`~`

Danny was warm. 

It was an odd sensation, one that he hadn’t felt in a while. He barely even recognized it. 

If he ignored the ever present pressure of the walls bearing down on him at all angles and the occasional intense rumble around him, he could almost pretend that it was comfortable. He yawned and instinctually flickered into intangibility as his mouth filled with concrete, taking advantage of the moment to wrap his arms around himself a little tighter before it dropped again.

Still…it was the most comfortable he’d been in ages. Surely a bit more of a nap couldn’t hurt, right?

…

A roar echoed through his shelter, reverberating and settling deep in Danny’s bones, shocking him into consciousness once again. For a moment, he thought he could sense the sensation of falling but then it was gone and he attributed it to his sudden change of awareness.

It was no longer comfortable.

This was…hot.

It was so hot he could hardly stand it.

It…hurt.

It hurt in such a different way than cold did. 

He…wanted it to stop.

This isn’t what he meant when he didn’t want to be cold anymore.

Danny blinked open his eyes to find that his surroundings were no longer dark. Instead they glowed a deep orange, filling his vision and stinging at his eyeballs. Yet, he couldn’t find it in himself to close them as a thought struck him, freezing him in place more so than the concrete ever could.

Was this their doing?

Did they find him?

Were they trying to smoke him out, only to lay in wait to capture him again the moment he escaped his little safety net?

No.

He couldn’t risk it. He could withstand a little heat, if it meant his freedom in the end.

Pain was something he knew how to handle, after all.

He was not going back.

…

The rumbles weren’t dying down. If anything, they were growing in intensity and frequency as the heat rose. Building from the occasional thunderclap to the unforgiving and unending drum beat of war. It jostled and disoriented him as his surroundings were put into a constant flux. Even with little visual stimuli, he found himself growing nauseous as every sensation he was intaking pushed him to the extreme.

Still, he held on.

He would not give in.

Something let out a resounding pop near his stomach, directly over the still healing incision, and Danny instinctually curled inwards. He opened his mouth to scream but it was immediately swallowed up in the blistering material around him. 

Pop!

His shoulder.

Pop!

Hip.

Pop!

Neck.

Right over where the inhibitor collar sat.

On and on it went. Small explosions all over his body. Sharp, piercing impacts that seemed to manage to dig past his skin into his very soul. Flickering his intangibility didn’t help. It just seemed to create even more pockets for the molecules to shift into.

Everything was hot and pain and-and

And he couldn’t think.

He couldn’t breathe.

With one final burst of intangibility Danny emerged from the wall, taking his first breath of air since he had entered, however long that was. It was only then, that he realized what he had done, immediately flinching back and generating a shield around himself.

But, he was wrong.

There were no guns.

Nothing was aimed at him.

They weren’t here.

What was here was a small group of whimpering children, shielded from a collapsed wall by some guy in a black and blue suit. The very same wall we had just materialized from, now partially impaling the guy as he tries not to be crushed to death under its weight.

What was here was a group of frantic individuals. Trying to navigate, not to safety, but to each other, even as any attempted route is cut off the moment any hope of making it is gained. As if some higher power is toying with the very lives below him.

What was here was some dude in a wild attempt at a fursuit facing off against a cackling clown.

…Danny wasn’t quite sure how to process that last one but it didn’t take a genius to figure out who was the instigator of the situation.

Ancients, Danny hated clowns.

What was here was a bunch of struggling and desperate people, not madmen intent on tearing his very being apart.

And Danny had just sat there, in a wall of all places as these people got hurt. As these children got hurt.

It was all his fault.

He’s nothing more than a coward and a monster.

With little thought to how much energy he had in his reserves, Danny flung out his arms, rapidly expanding his shield and coating it in a layer of frost. It passed over the humans harmlessly, but extinguished the flames and cooled down the air it swept over, quickly cooling from the unbearable sweltering that had permeated the air.

Floating down, he gently placed his hands on the fallen wall, careful not to place any extra pressure as he did so. Taking a deep breath in, Danny spread intangibility throughout the structure. The first time he consciously did so since that collar was placed on him in the middle of him using that power oh so long ago.

It…didn’t hurt.

He was fine and it didn’t hurt.

No shocks of electricity, no beatings, nothing.

Danny blinked down at his hands in disbelief, frozen for but a moment before a flash of blue below him broke him out of his head. He immediately spots three small children, staring up at him in awe as they hold hands, the only light in the room coming from his glow, muffled through the semi transparent wall. He shifts his eyes towards the movement that caught his attention before to find the man who was so well illuminated in the fire, now almost blending in the background with his dark suit. He stood there, swaying and dazed, facing the opposite direction of Danny. But, even with this lighting, he could see the nasty burns that ran throughout his body and through his ripped suit, the worst of them being on his side and shoulder.

Tossing the wall in the opposite direction, Danny floated down to eye level with the man, just in time to catch him as he finally lost his battle. He places a hand on each of the major injuries, gently casing them with ice. He’s careful with the temperature, trying to recall the lessons he used to have with Frostbite about healing ice and the different properties he could imbue into his. It's not perfect, but it's manageable.

He looks up just in time to see vibrant blue eyes open.

`~`

Standing- no hovering- mere feet in front of him, was a glowing child. With blinding white hair that moved as if he was under water and eyes reminiscent of the Lazarus Pits. For a heartstopping moment, Nightwing was afraid it was the ghost of one of the children he was urging to safety, but the kid is far too old to be one of them. 

A meta?

With one arm wrapped around his stomach and the other supporting Nightwing, the kid steadies the vigilante, ensuring that he won’t collapse again before backing away and turning around. He still doesn’t touch the ground. The fluidity of his movements seem to portray that he belongs in the air, as if gravity was a mere suggestion to him. Nightwing has known plenty of people that viewed the ground as an option, but even in these few movements, he could tell that this was something else. 

Suddenly, the temperature in the room, already having rapidly cooled down, plummeted further as the boy's hands glowed a brilliant blue, that of frost in the morning. His brothers cried out, weary of the mysterious newcomer but Nightwing could only look on in awe as the kid slammed his hands to the floor. Icy fractals spread out in a radial direction, smothering any wayward embers. It danced around his feet, fully avoiding him and the children as it continued on its journey. Even as the children laughed and cheered below him. On further inspection, the ice seemed to display intricate patterns as it glittered and glowed, casting a light blue hue over everything in the room. A great contrast to the blinding orange that had overtaken it not moments before.

Shouts of indignation broke him out of his reverie as Nightwing looked up to see the ice rapidly encase the Joker. He was mumbling something about the kid ‘spoiling his fun,’ even as the ice grew over his mouth. 

It seemed that the clown had broken away from Batman and had attempted to go after the teenager only to find that the ice wasn’t so friendly to the man as it was to everyone else. 

And just like that, it was quiet again.

No more mad men, trying to worm his ways into their brains. No more manic cackling eating at their eardrums. No more raging inferno, burning down what little stability they have left.

It was all just…frozen.

Still.

Like a lake hidden in a forest, mid-winter.

That was, until the Big Bat himself stepped forward, presumably to interrogate the new meta kid in the middle of his territory.

Even floating a couple inches off the ground, the teenager looked miniscule in the Bat’s shadow. Nightwing couldn’t tell if he actually was that small or if it was just the way he was holding himself, scrunched up like that.

Hang on…was he injured?

Nightwing surged forward, deftly stepping between the kid and the Dark Knight himself, “B…” He started cautiously, soft enough as to not scare the actual injured child behind him, who seemed to be shaking more and more by the second. “Let’s not jump to conclusions here.”

Batman went to respond, getting as far as to open his mouth before a small noise behind him had Nightwing whipping around. Reaching out, he catches the kid as he finally succumbs to whatever injuries he accumulated before coming to their aid, gently cradling him in his lap as he settles onto the icy floor.

“B, I know what you’re thinking. But, this kid just saved our asses from this situation and he was already injured. Probably from one of the buildings collapsing. That’s on us. The least we owe him is some help and respect, not interrogation.” Nightwing stared down Batman.

He could try to pry the teenager from his fingers if he wanted, but he was not about to sacrifice the kid to the whims of the Bat. They could figure out his deal over time, later, if necessary, but there was a time and place for that and right now, right here was not it.

“Um.” Nightwing startled at the sudden presence of his younger brother bending over him to inspect the kid, “I don’t think he got those injuries from a building collapse.” Red Robin declared.

Nightwing furrowed his eyebrows at his brother in confusion. After all, if not from the fire or destruction, then from where? Following his line of sight down to the unconscious boy he was holding, Nightwing was granted a gruesome sight. There were injuries everywhere, some more telling than others. Some, very obviously more recent than others if the burns had anything to say about it. But two very prominent injuries stood out amongst the rest.

The first being a blackened ring around his neck, the majority of which Nightwing suspected to be hidden beneath his jumpsuit. It was hard to tell if the ring was so dark due to bruising or an even more sinister charring of the skin, but it was obvious something heavy and restrictive had laid there for quite some time.

A meta collar, if Nightwing would hazard a guess. A particularly cruel one at that.

The second was a sight that had the vigilante swallowing back bile, recalling the moments the kid had held his arm across his chest and stomach. He had assumed it was some sort of defensive measure, a way to keep his guard up, not a way to literally keep himself closed. Because the most telling injury of all was one that spanned the teenager’s midsection, from the collar bones to his stomach, still sluggishly bleeding even as he laid there in his lap.

A Y-incision.

Like that of a cadaver.

Oh, hell no.

`~`

Danny woke up to an odd mixture of quiet deep mumbling and monitors. Sounds that would typically set his anxiety on the rise but, for some reason, did not seem to register for him at the moment.

Instead, the first thing he noticed was just how light he felt. It had been ages since he woke up without a throbbing headache for one reason or another.

It was odd. He didn’t recall falling asleep…

His thoughts came to a screeching halt as he replayed the last few moments before his exhaustion overtook him.

Did-

Did he get captured after all?

A spike of fear washed over him but Danny squashed it immediately, knowing that any semblance of life could set them off. It would be more productive to take stock of his surroundings and prepare himself for what’s to come. 

Still, it was odd. He was obviously in a new place, likely reinforced after his last escape, but there was no collar on him. His limbs weren’t chained down. Even the object that he laid on was much softer than any of the tables they usually had him restrained to.

He didn’t get it.

Why be nice to him now, after so long treating him as nothing more than an experiment to be used as they please?

It had to be a trick.

Leave him unshackled so that he has hope to escape again, then take it all away once he tries. They probably have guards standing at the ready, or maybe the walls themselves are reinforced to electrocute him the moment he touches them.

A loud and sudden bang nearly has Danny giving up the ghost right there, but years of practice allows him to remain as steady as a cadaver. Even as a new anxiety floods through him.

“So, I heard we caught another one?” A feminine voice calls out near where the bang sounded. It must have been a door.

“Spoiler!” A male voice this time. He sounds a little young to be doing experimentation like this.

“What?” 

There is a moment of silence where Danny presumes some gestures are exchanged before a new voice adds in.

“He’s dead, Brown.”

Okay, who let a child in the inhumane experimentation laboratory? Danny understood apprentices and all that but wasn’t this a little too young to be forcing them to lose their innocence?

“He’s not dead.” Another new voice. It sounded vaguely familiar, but Danny couldn’t place it. Based on the direction, it sounded like it was the source of the mumbling that he woke up to so he attributed it to that.

“He doesn’t have a heartbeat, he’s not breathing, and he hasn’t moved since we placed him on the bed, Grayson. He’s dead.”

They…have really conditioned this kid well, huh? His speech patterns are very close to theirs. Though, it was odd that he still called him a ‘he’ and not ‘it.’ Danny supposed he would take what he could get.

It was odd how different the others spoke, though. He was struggling to comprehend it. Maybe it was their sadistic way of building up hope for him? 

It was all a trick, after all.

“He’s clearly an alien. Maybe we’re just not looking at the right things. We’re detecting brain waves so he’s alive, at least.”

“He won’t be for long if we don’t figure out how to stop his bleeding.” The first male voice added in, voice surprisingly soft for how brutal his words seem to be.

“Is he…bleeding Lazarus waters?” 

The girl’s voice had an odd mixture of shock and glee. Another thing Danny wasn’t quite sure how to comprehend, given the specific words she used. Would she not know this already?

Danny was confused.

Maybe they didn’t need to trick him into getting his hopes up. He was getting a headache trying to figure things out already.

“We’re not sure. All the tests have come up inconclusive, but every time we’ve tried to stitch him up, they’ve just dissolved almost immediately. Agent A tried to patch him up without it, but it’s not ideal.” 

Patch him up…? Why would they try to patch Danny up?

Something seems to capture the occupant’s attention as the conversation suddenly dies down for another length of silence before the man with the familiar voice picks it up again, “What’s up, Orphan?” There’s more silence. “He’s awake?”

What.

“Hey kid, are you awake? Can you hear us?”

How did they know? He hadn’t moved at all! What gave him away?

“It might be hard, but if you can hear us, can you give us a sign?”

They were much closer now.

Shit.

He needed to get away. He needed time to think.

Would it be better to play dead?

No, they already knew he was awake. They’d just begin their work if he just laid there.

But they were clearly testing him on whether or not he’d escape. He didn’t know this base. Where it was located or what its layout was. 

He was just going to fail.

He still had to try.

Even if this was a trick. Even if the walls were electrified and they would get some sick satisfaction from his downfall, this was the best shot he had.

He wouldn’t go back to having that damned collar on.

He opened his eyes.

White.

That’s all he saw.

The white of those too-bright lights as they beamed down at him from their spots on the ceiling. Shadows covered his peripheral but he paid them no mind. He wouldn’t be able to fight them in his condition anyway. He shot up out of his position until he hovered over their heads, careful not to touch the ceiling as various shouts rang out below him.

His eyes swept the room. He needed an escape route. He needed one now.

His eye landed on a black and blue suit. A familiar black and blue suit. With ice encasing the shoulder and side.

What?

Why is he here?

Was he a part of them this entire time?

Was it all just some massive trick?

Danny was so tired.

“Hey.” The man’s voice cut through, soft and gentle. “It’s okay. We won’t hurt you.”

That was a lie. They always lied.

“We’ll give you space, if that’s what you need. Just…come down from there, okay? You’re injured. You need to rest.”

That was a trick. They were just trying to get him back into place so that could hurt him again.

But then…why were they actually backing away?

“Please, you’re going to strain yourself more. You need to lie down so you can heal.”

He sounded desperate.

Would they hurt him if he didn’t do as he asked? Did they get him because of Danny, too?

Danny’s eyes shifted to his shoulder. Or was it because he was already injured? But, his ice should have healed that already. 

Did he not know?

Slowly, Danny drifted down, ready to dart back up at a moment's notice. The lower he got, the more relief became visible in the man’s eyes.

That was, until Danny reached out.

It was a slow, tentative thing. One that the man allowed, even if the shadows of the rooms seemed to jump into tension at it, but confusion blossomed in his gaze that followed Danny’s hand.

It was a simple matter, to melt the ice once he touched it. It would have gone away on its own later once Danny released his connection to it, but given that he would have to melt the clown in the same breath, it likely would have stayed longer than necessarily comfortable for the man.

What lay beneath the expanse was smooth, unblemished skin. A sharp contrast to the burnt, bruised, and bloodied mess that it was before. 

Danny pulled back, just enough to catch the man’s wide eyes and flick his gaze down to his side, silently asking for permission. The man offered a slight nod, his awe-filled stare unchanging as Danny went about it quicker this time, darting a healthy distance away once he was satisfied with his work.

There. That should help the man’s tension. Danny showed him that he was no longer injured and without his ice on him anymore, there should be no sense of concern.

Right?

Then why was he looking at Danny so strangely still?

“What’s your name? Do you have something we can call you by?”

They weren’t just going to assign him some group of letters or numbers? Or maybe they’ll disregard him once he gets comfortable? Some weird attempt to maximize his hurt?

Danny supposed it couldn’t hurt at this point. He didn’t really have high expectations out of these people but the most this could do is humanize him a bit to make their experiments a little more difficult to go through.

He opened his mouth to respond but no noise came out.

Danny frowned. It’s been a while since he’s even attempted to make a noise, much less talk, but surely he didn’t forget. He tried again.

Nothing.

“Hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to force yourself,” the man took a step forward as Danny floated back further, shaking his head.

Again.

This time he succeeded in making some noise.

It wasn’t words though.

He curled in on himself as his body convulsed, protecting his center and catching any ectoplasm he coughed up. It seems speaking wasn’t going to work for the time being. 

It’s fine. It’s not like the man really wanted to know anyway.

Though he could use Danny’s refusal to answer as a reason to punish later.

Slowly, the fit died down. Allowing Danny to unwind his body again and catch sight of the man and the other occupants of the room.

He didn’t get it.

That was not the cold and uncaring looks he had grown so used within his time at the other facility. What were they getting at acting like this? 

Danny almost wished they’d go back to the other way. At least he was familiar with that. At least he knew what to expect and could prepare himself accordingly.

This? He didn’t know.

He didn’t know what to do with the various looks of concern around the room. The tight grasps around whatever object they held. The wide eyes.

He didn’t know how to handle the man in front of him, one hand on the sidebar of the medical bed- a bed- as he visually stops himself from jumping to Danny’s side after he had retreated before.

It was all fake. An act. It had to be.

It had to be.

But.

If none of this was real and it was all inevitably going to end anyways, Danny supposed it couldn’t hurt reaping the benefits of their weird methodology in the meantime.

Glancing around the room revealed nothing for his immediate issue, so instead he wiped his hands free of any residual ectoplasm and hesitantly floated closer to the man. When the man did nothing but offer an encouraging smile, Danny angled his body to protect his center and reached out to grab his hand. Flipping it around, he spelled out the letters of his name on his palm, listening as the man breathed them back to him.

“Danny?” He asked, eyes lighting up, burning brighter than the fire Danny had doused not so long ago.

He nodded. Slowly, but sure.

The man beamed, “It’s nice to meet you, Danny! My name’s Nightwing.” 

Danny had never seen a person so happy to know another’s name. He was practically outshining a star with how bright his smile was.

“I’m a hero in a nearby city, but I was visiting when everything went down,” he dropped his voice a bit as if he was trying to broach the next topic carefully. “Why were you in that building, Danny? It was quite dangerous.”

He froze.

Why?

Why was he in the building?

Wouldn't-

Wouldn’t he know that if he was with them?

Danny looked around the room, at the shadows hanging in the edges of the room. It took a bit of concentration, but slowly, the blurry edges focused into more familiar shapes.

Not all of them could be recognized, but some of the colors and patterns were reminiscent of those he saw with Nightwing before.

Danny narrowed his eyes.

Where was he?

Gripping Nightwing’s hand with a little more force than necessary, if only in a poor attempt to hide his own shaking, he hastily wrote ‘WHO ARE YOU’

“Who..?” Nightwing muttered before realizing Danny wasn’t exactly looking at him and whipping his head around behind him at the other occupants of the room. “Oh, these are the actual heroes of Gotham! There’s a few that are in the field right now but here we have Batman, Red Robin, Robin, Spoiler, and Orphan,” he gestured to each one in turn. It seemed that Spoiler wanted to introduce herself, but the girl next to her held her back, much to her chagrin.

They were…heros?

This…had to be a lie.

Right?

‘WHERE’

“We’re in Gotham right now, but we brought you to the Batcave after you collapsed for treatment.”

Danny nearly choked.

Instead, breaking into a fit of coughs as Nightwing frantically tried to support him.

‘BATCAVE’

Nightwing snorted, “Yeah, it’s a whole thing. You should see how many bat themed things we have around here. There’s the batcave, batmobile, batarangs.”

“Batplane.” Spoiler added in, causing Danny to whip his head towards her.

The tension in the room climbed again as everyone stared at Danny, waiting for his next move.

“Batshield,” Robin joined in, prompting everyone in the room to turn towards him instead. The child crossed his arms in response with a scowl, “Tt, were we not giving examples of bat themed items? Just because you cannot think of any, does not mean I am so inferior.”

This seemed to set the room off as suddenly Danny was surrounded by a myriad of voices that seemed to grow louder with each shout.

“Batclaw.” “Batpoon.”

“Bat Flyswatter!”

“Bat Shark Repellant!”

“Bat pom poms!”

What…was going on? This was nothing like their behavior. 

What would a bat shark repellent even entail?

Was it a repellent for a certain type of shark similar to a bat version of the tiger shark? Did it use bats in the ingredients? Was the bottle shaped like a bat? What does this mean? 

Danny wanted to know.

But first…he needed to make sure.

Grabbing Nightwing’s hand, a bit more gently this time, he diverted his attention back to him as the chaos continued to surge around him, “Hm? What’s up, kiddo?”

‘BATCAVE.’

“Yeah, we’re in the Batcave right now. Well, to be more precise, we’re in the med bay section of the Batcave. There’s more. It’s much more cave-like out there, though.”

‘SHOW’

“You want to see?” Nightwing quickly glanced around the room, then back down at Danny, expression complicated, “I guess, since we couldn’t hook you up to anything, it wouldn’t hurt…What do you day, B?”

There was a grunt from the corner of the room, which Danny assumed was good enough of a response for Nightwing because he continued as if he completely understood, “Yeah, yeah, I’ll be careful. Look at him. Kid couldn’t hurt a fly. Besides, it’d be good for him to see things other than this room. He’s not imprisoned here, after all.”

Danny narrowed his eyes. Were they actually going to let him out of this room? Surely not.

“But!” Nightwing turned back towards him and Danny shrunk back, fully expecting the inevitable backlash, “You are still very injured. So, you will sit in the bed and I will wheel you around. And no floating either. You need to rest.”

He was actually going through with it? With the entire bed at that? Do they not have wheelchairs?

Danny waited for him to take back his offer, or someone to shout “Jinx!”, or something.

It never came.

Slowly, he glanced back up at Nightwing, who gave him an encouraging smile and nodded towards the bed. Tentatively, with the movements of one sentenced to capital punishment, Danny floated back onto the bed. He squeezed his eyes shut and held himself close to subdue his shivering as he laid down, but found himself duly unsuccessful.

If it was going to happen, it would occur now.

They would strap him in and that would be it.

His fate sealed as he foolishly walked right back into it.

“I’m going to lift your head up now, okay, Danny?”

That was it. They were going to lift his head and snap the collar back on. Danny took a deep breath and prepared himself, determined not to make the same mistake as last time.

The bed made a mechanical whir and his upper half was lifted into a semi-sitting position.

What? Where was the collar? The restraints? There’s no way Nightwing was actually going to give him a tour of this ‘Batcave.’

Danny peaked an eye open.

Nightwing grinned down at him, remote in hand. “Ready?” He handed Danny the remote. It…really was a control for his bed. That’s all. Nightwing put a hand on the bed frame, always in Danny’s frame of vision. “Do you mind if Red Robin helps on the other side? It might be a little difficult to do this alone.”

Danny stared at Red Robin. He was at the fire, too. He…had been trying to get to Nightwing. To help the kids.

He nodded.

“Alright! Then let’s get on with the tour!”

Within seconds, he was flanked on either side with the two vigilantes. Danny was expecting to bristle with the second presence towering over him, but he found himself much more relaxed than he expected.

It's a little difficult to be afraid of a man who just shouted ‘pom poms’ with such fervor.

What did get Danny to tense up was the initial jolt of the bed as the trio, as well as the rest of the Gotham hero’s at a much farther distance, began to make their way out the door. 

This was it. 

This would tell Danny if they were truly telling the truth, or if they were just going to transport him to his next location to be torn apart. 

The air changed around them as they entered a room much larger than the previous. He heard a deep chuckle from Nightwing as they came to a brief stop, “You can look, you know? That’s kinda the whole point of bringing you out here.”

Danny blinked up at the hero blankly, only now realizing that he had shut them. It was in this action that he was able to glance at the stalactites hanging high above them. 

This…was an actual cave.

He tried to push himself into a proper sitting position to get a better look around him but found himself being held back. But, rather than thrashing or fighting back, he stared confusedly at the hands that were carefully pressing back.

This incited another laugh from Nightwing as he reminded, “You can look all you want. We’ll walk around. But, you have to remain in the bed, alright?” Danny nodded. “When you’re ready, just point where you wanna go, and we’ll head there.”

If Danny was being completely honest, looking out over the Batcave from the enclave the med bay was tucked away in felt a little like looking at a page in those iSpy books he used to read when he was little. There was no end to the interesting and absolutely random hodgepodge of objects that heroes had deemed worthy of decorating the base with. From the seemingly life sized dinosaur, to a very much not life sized penny, to the absolutely ridiculous amount of monitors that would have had Tucker drooling if he could be here to see them.

It was…a lot. 

A little too much, if the energy fading from his body told him anything. Still, he wanted to try one thing. One thing that they would never let him do, even if they were going all in on tricking him. 

Making sure Nightwing’s eyes were still on him, Danny pointed up.

“Upstairs?” Nightwing looked a little alarmed and heartbroken at this, “I’m…not sure we can do that, bud.”

Was it out of the question? It raised red flags that they couldn’t, but perhaps there was another reason? Danny figured he’d try again and clarify.

He reached over to write on the hand holding the bed, ‘STARS’

“Oh! You want to go outside?” Nightwing glanced at Red Robin who just shrugged. “I don’t see why not? It’ll be a bit of a trek, if that’s okay with you?”

Danny nodded, a little faster than necessary.

“Okay, then, we just need to gra-oh! Orphan’s already got some blankets. We’ll need to put these on you, if that’s okay, and we might not be able to go out there for long, but if that’s what you want to see, we’ll take you there!”

Giving yet another affirmative to the vigilante, Danny allowed them to tuck him in as they saw fit. The blankets were surprisingly warm for how light and unrestrictive they were. He found himself running his fingers over the materials as they wheeled him down some corridor, marveling at the first soft fabric he’s been able to feel in his recollection.

That path is long, with many turns and corridors. It occurs to Danny that this was rather impractical for a group of vigilantes. Meaning that the confusing route was purposeful. On one hand, they likely were trying to preserve their identities, something that he could very well understand. On the other, he was still being brought along to an unknown destination and he couldn’t guarantee his safety until he was physically outside, looking towards the stars.

Just as Danny began to rub the blanket a little too hard, Nightwing’s voice brought him out of his reverie. He wasn’t wasn’t anything of consequence. Nothing that warranted Danny to respond. Just stories of some of the knick-knacks they passed, giving context and a history to them.

A reality too detailed to fake.

And Danny listens. 

For the first time, he listens and hears the stories the vigilante tells. It's a little too much to believe them as truth, but he doesn’t immediately dismiss them as lies and trickery. Each new hallway and door still hides monsters of the unknown from Danny. But with every subtle flinch from the darkness, Nightwing's voice fills the void, soft and constant. And when that final door opens in front of him, Danny isn’t surprised to hear the faint chirps of crickets in the distance. The cool sensation as fresh air fills his lungs unnecessarily. The musky smell of the earth fresh from a rainstorm.

They…really brought him outside.

Danny is looking before the bed even exits the building, wanting to waste no time looking at anything but the sky. As the trio finally crosses the threshold between structure and freedom, he does.

It's breathtaking.

Quite literally. Danny stops breathing, having no need for such functions in the face of such beauty. 

Above them spans the entirety of the cosmos. Millennia recorded and displayed, right before their very eyes. Stories woven throughout time to create a masterpiece equal to no other. 

Danny nearly jumps out of his skin when something heavy lands on his shoulders, but quickly calms down when he feels the fabric. The very same he’d been fiddling with the entire journey to this spot. 

A blanket.

Breaking his vision away from the sky, Danny glances down to confirm that, yes, a second blanket was now wrapped around him. In the process he notices his hand, now fidgeting with the blanket, was shaking uncontrollably.

He glances confusedly up at Nightwing, who just smiles back, “Take all the time you need. There’s plenty more where that came from.”

That…wasn’t it.

Danny wasn’t cold.

But…

Danny peaks over at the vigilante’s shoulder, now healed, then at his side, not a blemish to be seen.

And, for the first time since he was taken oh so long ago, he believes he is safe.

Truly safe.

Pulling the blanket around himself a little tighter, Danny snuggles into the warmth thinking that maybe, just maybe, the cold wasn’t so bad after all.

Danny’s hiding in the walls when the Bats corner the Joker and the clown starts spewing stuff about how if they kill him they’ll be just like him, one bad day etc. etc. so Danny just… freezes him.

[inkskinned]

we were sitting on the floor and i was cutting out tiny pictures to make a collage for a friend's birthday. you were on your phone and you laughed about something, and i was still in love with you then, so i asked what had you giggling.

"sorry. i was just..." you took a moment and went back to texting. "i was telling someone about how you're afraid of the dark."

i'm afraid of the dark because something bad happened. "oh." i felt a little slinky of shame crawl down my throat.

you glanced up, and maybe it showed on my face, because you rolled your eyes and held the phone to the side casually so i could see the group chat. "what? was it a secret?"

i looked down to the scissors in my hand. "i just..." no, it's not a secret. it just felt like something private, something serious. saying why would you tell someone that just feels like an accusation. it's unfair. i honestly am not even ashamed of it, it's just a fact about my person that i don't usually share.

what a strange experience. is this a human thing or a generational thing? for our grandparents: did they need to worry about how quickly someone can just... share your personal information? again, i didn't even really have a true objection. what could i say? i want any person in my life to feel they can be honest with their friends. it's not like i said don't tell anyone this.

i cut out another letter to complete the rainbow happy birthday, started hunting for the exclamation mark. i heard you sigh dramatically.

"don't make a big deal about this," you said.

this entire conversation was a pattern for us, and this was when we got to my least favorite part of the pattern. i would get my feelings hurt in some oblique not-technically-terrible way, and then it would be making a big deal about something. you'd get frustrated for me for being soft, but i was born soft. you knew i was soft when you pierced me. it's one of the things that made controlling me so easy.

"i'm not," i felt my voice crack. the question came without my wanting. "why are you guys talking about me?" and why are you saying that thing? why not like - i'm telling them how you're generous and kind and pretty.

you let out this low, tragic groan. "oh my god." you tossed the phone away from your body. "there, see? i just won't talk to them if you don't like it."

the rest of the hour went the way it always went, between us: i said i don't actually mind if you talk to your friends but -, you found a way to call my minor expression of discomfort "being dramatic." you got upset that i had been offended. i ended up apologizing, even though i hadn't actually done anything.

afterwards, you picked up the phone again. after texting for a little bit, you snorted. "okay," you said, "but it is kind of funny you're afraid of the dark. i mean, when you think about it."

[shartfinz]

Nintendo if you bring super paper Mario back I'll fix Mr. L's hands in this drawing just for you

[pending-dope-username]

Dash got out of Amity Park. He moved in with his aunt, got a job, bought his own apartment, and eventually opened his own shop. It was a mechanics shop. The owner of the building was a polite old man who rented the apartments upstairs and let Dash buy the vacant storefront underneath. Of course, he had gone around the building first to ask the other tenants if they would mind the noise before actually purchasing the space, but they all waved him off, telling him they don't care as long as they've got a roof over their heads. It took a few months, but with the help of his aunt and some of her circle, as well as a few job-desperate individuals, he got his shop up and running.

Crime Alley had a new mechanics shop. He wasn't sure about opening it at first, but he had found that the old mechanic shops that were in the area all ended up running out of business. The cops always found something to arrest them for. It was Crime Alley, they didn't have much choice in what they had to do to survive. Dash understood. He worked well enough, got a good number of customers, and was happy. He found that he could do everything by himself pretty early on. He did get in contact with Jazz, who was in Gotham, to help with his finances from time to time. He even reached out to Tucker so he could encrypt his files, set up a website, and even make him his own database that no one but them had access to. Red Hood walks in a few months after his business venture went well. "Good afternoon. How can I assist you?" Dash immediately falls into professionalism. He's had several vigilantes and criminals alike in his store; he doesn't falter when seeing the man. "I need a few mods on my bike."

"I can do most modifications; what are you needing?""Speed." He seems to settle on. Dash perks up. "You can go ahead and bring the bike to the garage, and I'll get to work on it right away. I'll need to assess it before I can tell you when to pick it up." Hood nods before stepping back out. The blonde makes his way through the open wall to his garage. He meets Hood in the middle and directs him to the motorcycle area of his shop.

"Let's see what we're working with." He immediately gets to looking it over after the other gets off. Eventually, he moves to push the button to lift it. "Custom-made, I assume?" He glances over just in time to catch the stiff nod. "Well, I haven't worked with this kind before for obvious reasons, but I'm familiar with these parts, so I'd say I can have it done by noon tomorrow." Hood gives another stiff nod. "I will just need you to sign some paperwork, give me your budget, and then I'll let you get on your way." He smiles before leading the other back to the front desk.

They work out the payment method and budget before Hood leaves. Dash immediately gets to work on his bike. He spends hours tinkering with it, eventually figuring out how to add a Fenton Works Speed-O-Meter into it. He doesn't know why they picked that name, it doesn't track your speed, it only makes vehicles go faster. He's surprised the Fentons never figured out how to get it to work smoothly. When he had mentioned the Crime Alley Mechanic Shop to his old classmates, Danny was quick to provide him with Fenton Works Tech he modified and smoothed out himself, always happy to show Dash how they worked and how to make them himself.

By the time he had the addition in, another customer approached him. "That Hood's bike?" They asked, voice deep and rough.

"Sure is, give me one moment and I'll be right with you." He finishes tightening the bolt he was working on before standing up to greet the customer. He wipes his hands on a towel before tossing it over his shoulder. It's a regular who just needs his backlights fixed after a run-in with some of Joker's goons. Easy fix that doesn't take much and Dash only charges for the new bulb he had to install. He knows the residents won't accept free work so he at least makes sure he charges for one part, most of the time the cheapest part, when it comes to villain or hero damage. Once the customer is gone, he gets back to tinkering with the bike. He noticed a few parts needed replacements and some of them needed a tune-up.

He goes as far as some small paint touch-ups, mainly around the symbol that's been chipped away. He finishes the bike, closes for the night (he stays open until midnight, 24 hours on weekends), and heads upstairs. When he gets to his apartment he sees a tupperware of stew on his doormat. The note on it says it's from his right-side neighbor. She's a single mom who works double shifts and two jobs, he lets her leave the kids with him when she needs it. They love playing mechanics and he showed the older one, 13, how to change a tire. The note is thanking him for looking after the kids the previous day and says it's leftovers from the restaurant she waitresses in. He takes it inside and heats it up. He has it for dinner and then hops in the shower. Once his shower is done, he feels completely dead on his feet and faceplants into his bed.

The next morning, his alarm is blaring at 4:30AM telling him it's time to get ready. He easily changes into his 'uniform' before making breakfast. He makes enough pancakes and bacon for the mom and her kids, leaving it on their doorstep with the clean tupperware and a note thanking her for the stew. He opens his shop and is greeted by a few customers. Most of them are trying to squeeze in service work and checks before work. He's learned to work fast and efficiently since opening the shop.

By the time noon rolls around, a few of the kids in the apartments had stopped by to have lunch with him, some even bringing food from their families as payment for working on their vehicles that morning. He's ushering them out of the shop, telling them to make sure they get back to school by the time Red Hood shows up again. "You popular with the kids?" He asks, voice hesitant, suspicious. Dash isn't dumb, he knows what's being implied.

"They think the shop is pretty cool and they all live in the apartments. Plus their families made me lunch." He admits easily. "Your bike is done, I did some routine checks and changed a few parts as well. I will not be charging for the extra services so you will only have to pay for the speed enhancer and the time it took to install it." He smiles as he leads the way to the bike.

"You fixed the paint."

"Yeah, I figured it wouldn't hurt to fix up the symbol. It was looking a little rough. Could barely tell what it was." Dash smiles. Hood makes his way over to start looking over his bike, hopping on and revving the engine for a second. It sounded clearer than it had when he dropped it off. "There aren't any tracking devices, right?"

"None at all. You are more than welcome to check, scan it, bring someone else in, whatever you want." He responds easily. They make their way back to the counter and wait for the transaction to finish. Dash ignores the glaring name of Bruse Wayne on the card. "So why are you in Crime Alley? You don't seem the type." Hood breaks the silence.

"Well, I had to leave my hometown and had family in Gotham. Crime Alley was the only place that didn't run background checks and accepted cash once I got my own place." This gets an odd look from Hood, eyebrows scrunched and head tilted forward and a bit to the side.

"Got something to hide, blondie?"

"Don't we all?"

The payment takes, Dash gives him the receipt, and then Hood rides off with his bike. He's found his new mechanic.

Short DPXDC Prompts #234

Dash ends up making his own mechanics shop in Crime Alley and Red Hood comes into his shop to ask for modifications to his bike. He becomes Jason’s go to guy for car and bike repairs.

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

HEAR ME OUT

“Don’t you think I’m scary?”

“Scary? My god you’re divine”

AHHHHH

FuskqosnisisbssbjHWISNSKSOAOAKWAJ 😭😭🤭🤭😋😋

I love two lovestruck idiots who don’t know they’re in love w each other and it’s grumpy German shepherd x golden retriever 😻😻

PLEAAASEE german shepherd x golden retriever is one of my faaavvv tropes OAT !! it’s so so adorable and especially with katsuki cus i know he just thinks he’s so scary ! i got a lil idea after the recent manga chap that just came out, so this might be a liiiiiittle super small spoiler but i think its so cute ! hope you enjoy anon tysm for the ask ! much luv xxx

fem reader, super duper minooor spoiler but katsuki has stitches !, mutual pining, idiots in love, soft katsu (cus he has to be but also cus he’s whipped) (but hes still a little piece of shit) reader is a lil sweetie, short lil fluffy fic, touchy katsuki bc i cannot help myself, lmk if i missed anything else !

before the war, bakugou had made a lot of new little habits.

he’s made it a habit of waiting for you to head out of class so you could walk together. he’s made it a habit of sharing just a portion of his lunch with you, because apparently he’s constantly been making too much, ignore the fact that he only let’s you have those ‘extra’s’ that doesn’t mean anything.

he’s made it a habit of carrying around an extra water bottle with him because you always forget to keep yourself hydrated after training, he’s also made it a habit to scold you for it endlessly. he’s ruthless even as you whine about how mean he is, saying that “he wouldn’t need to be on your ass so much if you just remembered to grab your damn bottle.” he ignores the fluffy feeling in his heart and tells you to shut up when you tell him that he always has your back anyway, swiftly looking away from you and cheeks turning red.

and since you're on the way to his house, he's made it a habit of walking you home. you call it hanging out after school, he calls it 'just making sure you don't get lost somehow..hah ?! don't ask me how ! your dumbass would probably find a way to !'

anyway, he's made it his mission to grace you with his presence every day after school. you always bid him a cheery goodbye, "see you tommorow !" you say, and he always looks forward to it, even when he turns away, nonchalantly throwing you a quick wave over his shoulder.

usually you wake up at completely different hours, so he doesn't pick you up the morning. you always wished you could see him first thing in the morning, but seeing him waiting by the school gate's was more than enough to make your heart soar, you were more than happy with that.

but today you can finally go back to school. after dealing with non stop fighting for what felt, and probably was, hours and hours on end during the events of the war. and being stuck in the hospital for a few weeks, it feels nice to wear your school uniform and feel somewhat normal again. you'd get to see all your friends again and you'd official be a second year. you smile softly to yourself in the mirror.

katsuki had sent you a text a few minutes ago. he'd asked if you were almost ready, and you'd responded that you were only for him to leave you on read. you didn't mind much and shrugged it off.

but today, when you walk out the door, you see katsuki waiting for you on the sidewalk.

you blink twice, eyes widening. katsuki turns and looks up from his phone screen at the sound of the door he also blinks, although he's more unbothered then you as he simply stands up, pushing himself off his knees with a groan "took you long enough." he drawls. his eyes are warm and his lip twitch just the slightest bit at your expression "thought you'd keep me waiting forever."

"katsuki !" you exclaim, eyes still wide "what're you doing here ?!" you quickly walk to him, standing close enough to see the marks on his face, and the unmistakable stitches on his cheek.

he raises a brow like you're crazy, tilting his head "m'walking you to school."

"bwuh-are you even allowed to go to school ?" you sputter, realising he had his school uniform on, you liked it when he started making it a habit of wearing his tie more often. katsuki grumbles at your worries "shouldn't you be in the hospital ?" he scoffs at your fretting, but his eyes soften as he leans in closer to you. you see his battle scars better that way. you gulp at the sudden proximity, he's never been shy about getting in people's faces, although it was never meant to be intimidating when he did it with you, if the pink tint of his cheeks meant anything.

"doc said it's fine as long as i keep quiet.." he scoffs after finishing the sentence, rolling his eyes and causing you to giggle. hearing the sound he hadn't heard in what felt like ages made him sniff in amusement. you reach for his hand then, and he doesn't take his eyes off you while intertwining his fingers with yours. both your eyes shining with longing and affection for the other. you smile brightly at him and even though the doctors had told him to be careful with his heart, it seemed you were gonna make that hard for him. it didn't matter though, he was always up for a challenge.

pulling him along, you decide to tease him "guess that means you're gonna have to be on your best behaviour today, huh ? so you can't go gettin' mad at kaminari for no reason !" you playfully scold.

he rolls his eyes at the mention of your friend, though he doesn't hold back his smirk, he's definitely more open then he was compared to when you'd first started school. thinking about how far you've come together makes you happy, but it also feels bittersweet. "dunce face s'the who keeps pissin' me off, not my fault he can't handle it." you snicker and he snorts in amusement, squeezing your hand and making butterflies squirm around in your stomach. you don't mention the tight grip he has on your hand, probably because you're gripping his just as tight with no intention of letting go anytime soon. you probably look like a couple to the people walking by, you realise. and the thought does not displease you at all, far from it. it makes you a little too happy.

"behave." you squeeze his hand.

"i do." he growls, squeezing back, "he keeps trying me." you respond with a snort. your eyes occasionally fly towards his face, to the stitches on it more specifically. he's caught you looking multiple times on the way to the bus stop, not like you were exactly being subtle. your stare makes him nervous and he decides to finally confront you about it when you get to the bus stop.

"spit it out." he says, hands clammy in your grip, he hopes and prays you don't notice because it's so unbearably embarrassing to have to admit he was worried about what you'd think about his new look. he'd been anxious on your doorstep but you didn't give him much of a reaction, too shocked to even see him at the time, but your constant shifty glances made all the anxiety crawl back up again. so he speaks, keeping these distracting and frankly irritating thoughts to himself just irritated him.

you blink, humming curiously. katsuki grumbles to himself, keeping his eyes from yours. "ya keep staring at me, so what's up ?"

"it's strange seeing you with stitches." you answer bluntly. usually, he likes how honest you are, but right now it does nothing but stress him out. "i heard you messed your face up pretty bad, but i'm glad it didn't leave too much of a nasty scar." you muse. katsuki hums but his eyebrows furrow as he catches your last words, he's a little pissed off that you'd heard about what happened during the war. he'd wanted you to know as little as possible to keep from worrying you, or at the very least he'd wanted to tell you himself. he'll make sure to thoroughly question his fuckass friends later. of course, it also could've been her.

"..how'd you-"

"your mom told me."

he grunts. of course, it was his mom.

that damn hag..

"of course." he mutters bitterly. you don't respond, and to him that's all the answer he needs. a pit settles in his stomach.

"yeah, it's weird, isn't it ?" he agrees bitterly, unconsciously tightnening his grip on your hand. "it looks kinda creepy, right ?"

"what do you mean ?" his jaw tightens " i mean..like, on my face..." he sputter and mutters to himself, unable to properly say what he wants. you understand him though and immediately you turn till your face to face with him. your expression determined as you grab his other hand, both of his scarred hands now in your grip. his eyes widen in shock, embarrassment creeping up on him.

"there's nothing wrong with your face, katsu." you reassure, you'd made it a habit of calling him all those stupidly endearing nicknames, and it doesn't help taming the blush on his face slowly bleeding onto his cheeks. he pouts, fixing his gaze onto you and towards the floor.

"but doesn't it look..i dunno," he mutters, suddenly feeling self conscious "scary ?"

"scary ?" you tilt your head, he squints and looks away.

"i guess." he grunts with a nod, trying to save face. obviously it doesn't work by the look on yours. you're always so bubbly and sweet, he hates seeing such a pained expression on your face. you tug at his arms to get him to look at you "scary ? there's nothing scary about you.." you say sweetly, shaking your head. "i personally think you look really cool.." you mutter. katsuki feels his face heat, but his heart soars nonetheless. his eyes have been stuck wide for a second.

cool.

you think he looks cool.

"i was just wondering if they hurt ?" he tilts his head back in thought at that. instictively running his tongue on the inside of his cheek.

"nah, just felt weird when they were numbing it. but i didn't feel a thing." he shrugs, he suddenly smirks, the stitches being pulled up by the movement "wanna touch em ?" he teases, pulling you closer by the grip he still has on your hands. your eyebrows shoot to your hairline and he barks out a laugh.

"i-i can't do that ! what if i touch them and they come loose or something !" katsuki rolls his eyes at your jittering, using the hand still in his grip to bring it near his cheek, you desperately pull back and his evil smirk widens.

"katsuki, no !" you protest. he cackles meanly.

"it's fine." he insists, your pointer finger grazes his cheek and you turn your head away.

"i don't wanna !" you shake your head, your shoulders shaking as you hold back a giggle.

"yn. you're fine." he insists. he'd made it a habit of calling you by your first name after you'd started hanging out more. you called most of your friends by their first names pretty quickly into the year, your cheeriness making it easy for you to get along with everyone but you always were a little on guard with katsuki at first. he'll never admit it, but he was a little jealous that you'd call everyone in your shared friend group by their first name except for him. the sweet bubbly tone in your voice when you called for sero or kirishima made a nasty feeling bubble up in the pits of his stomach he'd desperately tried to push away. until one day he'd snapped during your group outing at the mall (outing he was coerced into going to by kirishima after finding out you where going too)

he'd regretted how whiney and bitter he sounded at the time, but he thinks it was worth it every time you'd look at him and say his name so sweetly, definitely worth it, as embarrassing as it was. and he'd started calling you by your first name too shortly after. all your friends do, but it felt so, so different with him.

finally your fingers make contact with the staples on his cheek. you peek up to look at him then. you run your fingers across them ever so softly, making sure not to hurt him. katsuki slowly let's go of your hand. unmoving and unnervingly still as you take your time scanning his face.

"so ?" he raises a brow, smirk slowly melting into a softer smile as he sees you smile to yourself.

"it's..not bad.." you tentatively start, still too worried to move too suddenly. he hums playfully. "and you don't feel it at all ?" you ask

"at all." he softly shakes his head. you don't realise you've gotten closer to his face but he sure has, and you end up realizing a little too late, but neither of you move away. you try to, but katsuki pulls you back in before you can get far. "do i still look cool up close ?" he jests, but there's some seriousness and vulnerability in his gaze. you smile warmly.

"yup," you say softly, you hear katsuki inhale sharpy, eyes never leaving yours "definitely still the coolest. not scary at all" you giggle, he rolls his eyes but chuckles. before you can question your positition or move away (or closer) to him you see the bus arriving in the distance. he notices it too and you share a look before you take a step back, smiling shyly at the floor while he keeps his gaze on the bus on the way.

until—

"OW, fuck !!"

your eyes snap up to see katsuki holding his cheek in his hand, your heart hammers and your eyes widen. you're next to him in two steps. "what, what—why-what happened ??!" you stammer, your hands reaching up to grab ahold of his face though you stutter, maybe it was your fault ?!

until—katsuki bursts out laughing. mean, but undeniably cute watery cackles that have you furrowing your brows in confusion until your jaw drops in realization.

the. asshole.

"you're not funny !" you whine, pushing at his arm although pushing might be the overstatement of the century. it could be more comparable to a nudge because even though he is an asshole, you wouldn't want to hurt him. even if he deserves it, you're better than that. you'll just think about hurting him.

katsuk chuckles breathelessly, grabbing your arm while you walk closer and stretch your arm out to signal the bus to stop. "it was funny, admit it !"

"you suck. you're the worst." scanning your bus ticket and walking ahead ignoring him, katsuki quickly scans his ticket and follows diligently behind you.

"you thought it was hilarious." he smirks.

"the absolute worst, the lowest of the low." you huff, ignoring the persistant heat of his eyes on you. he only snickers.

"i see you laughing."

today, you arrive to school with katsuki not at the school gates waiting for you, but walking together with you to start your new school year as second years. and you both hope you can make a habit out of this.