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niichanism · 2 months

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another throwaway-ish acesabo fic i might finish eventually maybe not. the logic and characterization started bugging me but also this ain't about that. i wanted to write alpha sabo wearing a muzzle while rejection-sensitive omega ace is extremely pissed to be denied kissies

Me in 2014, unenlightened: omegaverse is just a cheap tactic to make stoic blorbos pathetic Me now: I think ace one piece should experience PMS

set ambiguously after marineford but ace lives + nothing huge is going on with the RA

TW: omegaverse, pre-heat pms??? lmao, this one actually isn't that spicy it's just silly summary: ace: what if you helped me with my heat. hahaahaha jk. unless sabo: (malfunctions)

“Another meeting?”

Even Ace is surprised at the sharpness in his voice. It's been jumping out of him these last few weeks. He wants to swallow it back down, this twitchiness, but as Sabo turns his good eye back to him, he tries laughing it off instead.

“Yep.” His brother shrugs, smiling. “Duty calls.” “Hmm.”

Ace had his responsibilities as second division commander, but they so rarely involved paperwork. Everything was hands-on, on the go. Meetings were like rallies or even parties more often than not.

He misses it a lot. It feels wrong to sail under any other flag. But Pops was good at protecting people, and that's something Ace can do. Besides, Sabo is here. Sabo, who still has a way of keeping Ace relatively sane– up until recently, at least. There’s a moment where Sabo catches his withered expression, but neither of them say anything.

Ace falls back on teasing, hand on hip. “I’m just wondering if you ever get to have any fun is all.” “I have plenty of fun, Ace,” Sabo huffs, “especially when you’re around.” “Oh, yeah?” Ace is fairly sure— Sabo must be thinking of the fun they had a few weeks ago.

They’d saved a coastal town from some shitty pirates, which was already a good time in itself. They went to the tavern to drink– the place had good stuff, on the house for good deeds– went back to a good room– it’s actually pretty foggy from there. The emotions remain more than the specifics.

But he remembers riding Sabo stupid. Lighting the lamps so he could see when the sky went dark. And how pretty he looked, panting, his golden hair haloed on the bed. His bruising grip on Ace’s thighs. The sensation of his cock swelling like he could knot Ace outside of a mating cycle. He remembers Sabo’s face, lost in pleasure– growling, even– eyes scrunched tight, the flash of his white fangs in his open mouth.

He remembers thinking that it was so good. In the morning, though, Sabo was gone. He’d left a note on the nearest surface, in a rough scrawl: gone on mission

The total lack of specifics was somehow just like him, so Ace had huffed and climbed back into bed. Half-conscious, he’d searched the sheets for the elusive scent so often trapped beneath Sabo’s stuffy, high-necked outfits. And he tried to pull together soft little shreds of memory from the previous night. He hadn’t meant to ruminate. Just to check. Because no matter how he turned it over in his head, it all still seemed like a dream. And if it had happened, should it have happened at all? They never talked about it. Busy, busy days in the Revolutionary Army. Normal, normal brothers who were still learning each other a year after meeting again. Maybe Ace had made a mistake. All those vivid images were tiny embers that refused to die– for weeks now, he was plagued with curiosity. Then shame.

When they first met again, Sabo hadn’t reacted to his second sex beyond a small, almost comical lift of his brows. Ace had been equally cool about it on the outside, and he held himself to that, but the fact that Sabo was an unclaimed alpha had gotten under his skin.

If he was going to be honest with himself, it was posing a real fucking issue.

Ace had always been on the more impulsive side, but he really thought he smoothed that out– if not in terms of danger, then at least when it came to getting along with people.

Of all people, Sabo should test him the least.

And it sucks because he doesn’t, really. He and Ace still get on well. Better than well. What he's testing are Ace’s instincts. Ace had always been able to ignore them in the past, so their constant pounding in his head had surprising power and he ended up blurting out stupid shit like never before. He hadn't even been that clingy when they were kids. He knew and yet the antsy energy remained, dunking his moods and driving him crazy.

“That’s a relief,” Ace says, throwing him his utmost charming, normal smile. Sabo doesn't seem to take it at face value– figures– but past the semi-concerned twitch of his brow, he manages not to fuss over it for about three seconds.

“I’m glad, too. Are you… is everything good?”

“Everything's good,” Ace assures, a little too quick. The last thing he wants is Sabo looking at him like that. “Go on, don't be late,” he urges good-naturedly, sending him off with a lazy wave. “You just let me know if you need any countries set on fire or anything, yeah?”

Sabo looks like he wants to ask something else, but they have another half-conscious second of conversation with their eyes. Sabo’s face crinkles slowly into a smile, and he leaves, taking part of Ace's peace of mind along with him.

A week later, Ace visits Sabo in his room. “G’morning,” he yawns, hand on the doorframe. Sabo looks up from his desk– coffee in one hand, paper in the other.

“Ace. Good morning. Where have you been?” Sabo asks, casual enough.

Ace closes the door behind him and leans against it, nearly clenching his teeth against the nerves in his gut. “Sphinx,” he replies cheerfully. “To visit Pops and Marco.”

Sabo turns away to set his newspaper down. “I see. How's Marco doing?”

“Good,” Ace replies. “He’s on top of things as usual. I just help out here ‘n there.”

The revolution lets him come and go as long as he's smart about it. Well, Sabo lets him come and go. Most of the world still thinks Portgas D. Ace is dead, and the RA thinks he should keep it that way until it's the right moment for a blaze of glory.

No way that's happening until Ace gets his head screwed on straight again. But it's different when he has to be an omega about it. Show up at Marco’s door like a twitchy stray to ask what the hell his body is doing and how to make it stop. He's got a mind that’s too fond of bad ideas, but this sleep with Sabo or else one is throwing him for a loop.

First of all, stop taking suppressants, Marco had said, way too coolly. You haven't had a mating cycle in– two years now?

Can't I just sleep with people and get it out that way?

Sorry, Ace. You have to pass a heat.

Ace had gone quiet then, stomach dropping through the displeasure of it.

You know, there's ways of making it easier, finding a safe partner…

No, I can handle it. I mean, I'll figure it out. Marco. Thank you.

So there it was. He'd tried to take a vacation from his unreasonable instincts only to find out they had to be confronted.

When he looked at his options, his brain became scrambled eggs. The anger in his heart demanded consolation and so he ended up right at Sabo’s door.

“Want some?” Sabo asks.

It refreshes his attention, and Ace’s eyes fall upon the mug in Sabo’s elegantly gloved hand. That other kind of hunger stokes cinders inside of him. “Nah. Coffee's gross.”

Sabo smiles against the rim of the cup. “Useful, though.”

“How about we get some food in you down at the mess hall, too?”

Sabo raises his eyebrows. “Wouldn't turn that down. Give me a second.”

Ace glances around while the desk gets organized. “I also wanted to ask a favor.”

Sabo pauses where he's just stood up, and looks over, a little too keen for Ace’s liking. “Yeah?”

“See, I was wondering if I could…” he starts– then shakes his head, laughing at himself. He didn't learn to be polite for Sabo. He comes closer and clasps his hand firmly on Sabo’s shoulder, ignoring the low screech of desire that comes with it. “No, let me start over. Will ya lend me some of your clothes?”

He can't help the light pink flush on his own cheeks, but he's genuinely pleased at how Sabo’s face changes.

He does the eyebrow lift thing, and his hazel-eyed stare becomes that much more sharp, like this simple question does what the coffee couldn't. Ace likes that he doesn’t look away. But then, he's also at a loss for words, unspoken or otherwise. If they'd never been separated, if Ace wasn't a tough guy and Sabo wasn't a child soldier, this would be an easy script to follow.

Sabo glances down as if he has to examine what he's already got on. Those tough, tan pants that fall just right and the flouncy undershirt and fitted vest; Ace is vaguely amazed at how well put together he looks when the sun’s not even past the rocky horizon of Baltigo outside.

“Lend you my clothes?” he repeats. “Here I thought you had such a problem with them.”

Well, yeah, they make Sabo look snooty as fuck and they seem as freeing as a straitjacket, but–

“I do, but nesting’s not about fashion, it's about scents.”

“Oh… that's what you mean?”

Now why is Sabo so alarmed, blushing like a village maiden?

“What?” Ace asks, pinning him with an edgy, somewhat challenging look. He crosses his arms, since Sabo looks like he wants to sink into the floorboards. “Why are you so surprised? Did you think I don't nest?”

“Well, no–”

“I nested even when we were kids. It was like the one normal thing I did.”

Sabo laughs haltingly. “I remember. It's just that you insisted it was for Luffy’s sake–”

“Yeah, we thought it might make him less whiny,” Ace reminds him. What a puzzle that had been. Pups raising pups– that Luffy turned out half-decent was a fucking miracle, and maybe Sabo had more of a hand in it than he did. The angel on his shoulder had a lot more sway when it spoke with Sabo’s voice. Makino had loved the idea of their nesting with the clothes she brought, though. Everyone loved Makino, so if she thought it was a good idea, Ace had figured it was. “I guess I just got in the habit, man. You don’t actually have to give me anything, don’t worry about it.” Bless his heart, Sabo doesn’t let this awful feeling in Ace’s stomach take root.

“What? No, Ace, I didn’t say you couldn’t have any,” he says quickly, eyes as wide as a skittish woodland creature’s. “Please take something. It just surprised me. Nobody’s ever asked me before.” Ace sits with that for a few seconds. He shouldn’t feel happy that Sabo was deprived of meaningful pack bonds. But he feels light as air knowing that he’s Sabo’s first here, too. “Okay,” he says, grinning. When he catches sight of Sabo’s awkward, half-grimacing expression in turn, he snickers. “Could’ve just stolen some of your clothes to save us the awkward little chat, huh? You have so many, you wouldn’t have even noticed.” Sabo rubs his face between thumb and fingers, flustered. Another stilted laugh bubbles out of him. “No, I mean, sure, if you need something from me, you can have it,” he says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Ace’s smile softens, but it feels like a supernova, a victory. He’s having trouble stripping his eyes away from Sabo, the genuine pleasure on his rosy face. “But I’m glad you asked.” Ace bites the inside of his cheek because he feels like he’s about to start purring and Sabo hasn’t even given him anything yet, hasn’t even touched him. He’s out of joint for sure. “No big deal. Used to nest with Luffy’s clothes, too,” Ace tells him. He wrinkles his nose. “He smells like meat and dirt, though.”

Sabo relaxes. “You love meat and dirt.” “I do,” Ace laughs. “Yeah, Lu smells weird as fuck and I wouldn’t change it for the world. I’ll take your gift too. Much appreciated.” And now that he’s got his consolation prize, Ace yearns to get the fuck out of there. Even if he’s curious about fucking Sabo again– just to check– his upcoming heat is something else. It’s going to be beyond terrible, so much so that he already feels like a sweaty human fireball when it comes to mind, and he honestly doesn’t want to think about it. There’s a reason he hasn’t stopped downing suppressants for two years. Sabo’s clothes and memories of nesting in their treehouse will have to do to ease his fraying nerves. Ace has been through worse, so he should be stronger. He should be stronger. He should pass his heat and then, if possible, have sex with Sabo once more just to get this heavy, cloying attraction out of his system– Ace claps his hands together. “That’s settled, then. Breakfast?”

He needs to do something with his body that isn’t standing here and taking in everything that makes Sabo Sabo. But his brother doesn’t budge or even glance at the door. “When do you need them by?”

“Hm?” “I mean…” Sabo looks to the wall and back. “It’s soon, right? You stopped taking your suppressants.” Ace frowns, and twists his head over to sniff. “Damn, do I smell rank?” “No, no, you’re fine I think, as long as you don’t go anywhere too cramped or hot…” Sabo’s nose twitches; his mouth thins. “Are you going anywhere?” Ace’s eyebrows jump at the sudden steeliness in his voice. He fixes Sabo with a look on the border of teasing and genuine annoyance. “Sabo, have you never been around an omega or something?” “I have,” Sabo says, somewhat irritably. “Just… older ones, or… subordinates…” “Subordinates,” Ace repeats, teasing. “Well, it’s an army here, Ace, not exactly a family,” Sabo sighs, idly massaging one gloved hand with the other. “But now my brother is about to go through a cycle, so shouldn’t I make sure everything is fine? Are you going back to Sphinx for your heat?”

“Kinda thought I’d just stay here and bolt the door.” Sabo studies his face for a few seconds, then relents, throat bobbing. “Okay. Are you going to need… anything else?” “Well,” Ace starts. He puts his hands on his hips, rocks on his feet. “What’re you offering, Sabo?” Sabo swallows again. Ace almost hears it. Shit, it makes him want to pounce. “Oh.” He shows all his teeth. “I’m low maintenance, promise.” Sabo shakes his head, his smile completely lost on his face. Ace’s head gets foggy and hot and his mouth just starts moving.

“T’ tell the truth,” he admits, “it’s… gonna be a tough one to ride out since I haven’t had one for two years– that’s what Marco said. But it’s short notice, don’t really wanna go through the trouble of finding someone I can trust.” Despite knowing how terrible the heat is going to be– and it’s always worse than imagined– he can hardly think of anything that motivates him less than finding a viable partner out of the blue. The thought has worked like a boomerang, just bringing him memories of Sabo’s hands, arms, lips. Something tells him he shouldn’t trouble his brother with his cycle like this. Something else tells him that nothing in the world would be better. Like Sabo his brother and Sabo an alpha could be different things– and they’re not; Sabo is Sabo.

Ace the brother and Ace the omega are different things, though, and by the four fucking seas, he should know to keep it that way. “Are you serious?” Sabo asks. Again with the eyebrows raised way up, his stare both hawkish and disbelieving. Ace’s heart beats like a drum. This is a gamble, he knows. But he’d regret anything less. “Dead serious,” he drawls. Go big or go home, and he’s fearless. He understands very well that he can’t always get his way. Can’t make people want him. He gets that. They do or they don’t. It seemed like Sabo did that first time. In fact, it’s hard to imagine a world where Sabo doesn’t. Kind, loyal, capable, pretty-faced Sabo…

He holds up his hands. “If you don’t wanna, that’s that, but I remember last month– kinda– sorry ‘bout that–” “Don’t be sorry,” Sabo chokes out. Nice of him not to play dumb. Ace nods. “-- it was good! Real good. You’d be helping me out, if you’re up to it.” “Well–” Sabo falters. He shifts his jaw around, looks altogether way too serious, rigid. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Ace.” Ace freezes. “Yeah, you’re right,” his mouth says without his permission. Now his heart’s beating in a bad way. Why’d he say that? Sabo never became a pirate. Maybe he’s not built for that up-front, casual kind of thing– “It’s not that I wouldn’t,” Sabo says with that same hasty voice from earlier. Now Ace recognizes that it’s not an endearing fluster, but a quick course correction meant to coddle Ace, and fuuuuck, he really showed his hand at the worst time. “I just think– I’m not very available– I couldn’t be any help–” Again Ace’s hand comes down on Sabo’s shoulder. Maybe a little harder this time. “Sabo,” he says heavily, and sucks a deep breath in through his mouth. Sabo shuts up for the duration of his exhale, too, and then Ace smacks his shoulder a few times, grounding them both. “It’s fine. It’s cool. You’re super busy. It’s only a heat. Just forget it.”

Sabo looks more horrified than placated. Damn. Ace is pushing a smile harder than ever before because what else is there to do? Yeah, he’s pissed, but he’d be a prick to take it out on Sabo.

“Wait, I don't think you understand. It’s not you at all. I just think–” “Yeah, I got it. Not cool of me to spring it on you. Way too short notice. And it’s just a heat,” Ace repeats, also trying to convince himself. His stomach feels like it’s about to mutiny, empty itself of its fat 8am nothing. Like nausea lives there now.

So Sabo doesn’t want him.

That doesn’t even feel entirely true– But Ace is not going to push it. No regrets, but also damn him and his bad ideas. Sabo grabs his arm. “Wait, Ace–”

He feels overstimulated and shrugs Sabo off. It takes a few seconds to even formulate a response around his brain mysteriously exploding with something like starvation pains. Sabo looks somewhat heartbroken for him, which is worse. It’s just a heat. Sabo is his own person, obviously. His own person who could probably have anyone other than Ace, what was he even thinking.

Stalling, Ace ruffles his own hair back into somewhat of a bedhead, and tamps down as hard as possible on what wants to come out. You don’t want me?

Am I causing problems again?

Can you just hold me for a while, please, please– “If you feel like you need someone for it, just–” “Damn, don’t put words in my mouth,” Ace manages. He turns on his heel. “‘M hungry. I want food in my mouth. Let’s go get breakfast, Sabo.”

They sit across from each other for breakfast in the mess hall. If he’s around, Ace eats there even if Sabo doesn’t; like this, he learns the names of all the dour-faced veterans and bushy-tailed idealists, and they also know not to bug him if he lands face first in his plate. That doesn’t happen today. Sabo sits across from him with that disconcerted look, frowning more than Ace has seen him do in a while– it’s irritating– and Ace stuffs his face like they did not have that conversation. Once his stomach is fuller and he feels stronger, strong enough to hold his instincts at arm’s length again, he reasons that it went as well as it could’ve. Of course he had to ask. Was he just not going to ask? Like a coward? And at least now he knows. Yeah, he feels like a popped bubble or a capsized skiff now, strangled by that rejection in a way he hasn’t been for years, but this time it’s just omega stuff kicked up to eleven. That’s why it feels so beyond his control.

He’ll get all his hormones sorted with a heat, and then he’ll stop feeling like Sabo’s lost, horny puppy dog. Awesome plan. He slams his bowl down. Sabo’s been talking to some staffers– he really does have his sexy little gloved fingers in everything all the time– and he glances up at the noise. “... No seconds?” “I said I’d help train some recruits today,” Ace informs him, stacking his tray up. Sabo frowns. “Really?” “Yeah– quit that, stop worrying about me.” Sabo takes a deep breath and rubs his neck. “I’m not…” Ace laughs. “Get better at lying. Look, this isn’t my first rodeo, okay? Won't be so bad. And us, we’re fine.” “Of course we are,” Sabo says, and leaves the but hanging in the air. For now, Ace is fine with that. He whacks Sabo’s shoulder. “See you around?” “Yeah…”

And the back of Ace’s neck tingles, because he feels eyes on him until the moment he leaves the room. * A nice breeze and a few hours of physical exertion do him good, even if he still feels like a time bomb. At least he can make himself useful until pre-heat starts kicking his ass. He does indeed see Sabo around. He’s hard to miss at his height, with his stature, having left the top hat behind on this relatively casual day. And casual though it is, he sees Sabo cross from one end of the compound to the other, passing the training yard, no less than four times in six hours.

Maybe that's not unusual? Except that Sabo stops to look at him every time, arms crossed and not quite focused.

He's not there when the bell for dinner rings, which raises some questions, but Ace pushes it out of mind. He focuses on the roasted turkey and how he's going to have to ask for heat rations from the cook, who he hasn't quite won over just yet. Maybe in the morning when he’s less sleepy.

He's about to pass out in his room when there's a knock at the door and it opens. Huh. A guy has to question the point of knocking, then.

“Ace?”

Sabo closes it behind him with his foot, approaches Ace’s bunk– nest half-made and sadly lacking– and waits for him to stand up before holding out a folded set of clothes. Ace can't help the way he perks up at the gift.

As he reaches for them, Sabo leans in and sniffs. Ace goes still without even meaning to, mechanically closing his hands around fabric.

“You're getting close.”

“Hi to you, too, Sabo.”

Sabo leans back with a frown. “I really think you should stay in until it starts, Ace.”

“How are you? I'm doing fine, thank you for asking.”

“Ace.”

His voice is pinched. Briefly Ace traces the shape of his scar again and sighs.

“I think I've got at least a day or two left ‘til it really sets in and gets, y’know, smelly.”

At age 18 he'd fought off a navy squadron in pre-heat, even, and any pirate in a mile radius knew not to fuck with him. Surely the revolutionary army guys are as disciplined as pirates?

Sabo apparently doesn't think so. His face darkens. It's tough for Ace not to grin, but he tries. He brings the clothes closer to his chest. Sabo's wearing a whole other prissy outfit– so the ones he brought must've been from today. Ace feels itchy with that knowledge.

He remembers practically tearing his brothers’ clothes off of them when they were kids, so brashly insistent on tossing them into bed, and laughs a little. Sabo scolded him then, too.

“I'm not joking, Ace.”

“Obviously not,” Ace says lightly. “I can handle a fever, Sab. You worried about my hot, irresistible pheromones?”

Sabo’s face loosens like a lightning flash before his mouth firms up hard. Ace has the sense he's stepping on something he shouldn't.

“Yes,” he answers, huffs, and rolls his eyes. “You know, a lot of these people haven't mated in years. If it was anyone but you, I’d probably ask you to use the heat rooms in the infirmary.”

That doesn't make him feel special. He scowls.

“Don't really wanna be cooped up in any room at all for long,” he edges out. The worst thing is that he trusts Sabo is looking out for him, in his own needlessly intense way.

“Please?”

Ace catches the inside of his cheek between his molars.

“I'm telling you, ‘s not even pre-heat yet,” he says. His gland hasn't swollen up, there's no miserable heaviness to his groin, and he still has more than enough energy. So much energy he almost feels like he wants to fight.

He's so hopeless sometimes. He sits on the bed just to put some space between them, looks dourly at Sabo.

Sabo's surveying the room. There's a few trinkets, misplaced socks, log pose on the standard issue dresser. He hasn't made a home here, but it's something.

“I still need to get my hands on some water and food for it,” Ace continues, trying the rational angle.

Sabo shakes his head, tic in his jaw. “I'll take care of that,” he says, and his voice is gentle, reassuring. And Sabo always does what he says he'll do, so.

Ace frowns though. He feels fidgety, full of tinder sparks. He rubs at his neck, eyes shut. If he hunkers down now, he's just going to be… alone… for a while. And usually that’s no problem.

It's not like this room is a prison cell, but he learned just how slow a few days can pass when there's no one to talk to. He sends another silent thank you to Jinbei for keeping him somewhat more sane for that, but his friends can't do anything about his heat.

It's just a heat.

Sabo says his name and Ace realizes he doesn't know how long he was staring at his lap just now.

“Ace?” Sabo sounds worried. “You still have your baby snail?”

“…Huh? It's somewhere.”

“Right. So– that's how we’ll–” Sabo gestures, though he seems confused by exactly what he's doing. He pauses, puts his hands on his hips, and smiles. “You just call me on that when your heat starts.”

Ace’s brow twitches. He's not gonna show that side of himself to Sabo just for shits and giggles. Sabo looks at him and cools down, mouth falling open, smacked with some realization.

“Oh. Right. Sorry, are you still–” Again with the gesturing. “I changed my mind about what I said earlier.”

Ace leans back on the bed, incredulous. His arms are taut behind him. Sabo takes in the line of his body, then looks up. Oh, he's serious.

“Changed your mind?”

Sabo nods, all sincere, unflinching eye contact. “Yeah. I can’t just walk around doing business as usual while you're suffering in here. You even told me it was going to be bad. Can't take it lightly.”

Ace hums. Shit, he's getting too used to being saved by his brothers.

Shaking his head, he pats the stack of clothes. “Couldn't have led with that, chief?”

Sabo shrugs, smiling helplessly.

“Will you wait for me?” he asks, voice butter smooth. “I have to get some things ready, and then I’ll be one call away when you feel it coming on.”

“Koala says you never answer your snail.”

Sabo makes a face. “Not fair, she's making generalizations. I can't always answer the snail if I'm sneaking around or fighting–” he takes another breath, pauses. “-- and I won't be– I mean, I'll be right here.”

“So…” Ace looks down. “You want me to hunker down now and just wait for you?”

It seemed like the biggest drag in the fucking world two minutes ago. To himself, at least, he can't deny all the warm, fuzzy feelings dredged up. Sabo also seems happy. They're on the same page again.

“I can bring you some comics tonight?” he offers. Ace laughs.

He's a world-class wanted man who spent years in the Grand Line, and Sabo thinks he still likes comics?

He's not wrong.

“Ehh… just bring me all the papers with stories about Luffy,” he suggests, grinning. The two of them are collecting like crazy. “And the ones about Pops if you got ‘em.”

Sabo smiles. “Okay.”

“Okay.”

Excitement grows inside of him. There’s whole-body relief for the first time in ages. He hates that it's not something he could've accomplished on his own, but– he knows better than that now.

“Thanks, Sabo.”

Sabo nods. “I’ll take good care of you, Ace, I swear.”

Ace’s ears go hot. He chuckles, looking aside. “You don't gotta say shit like that.”

“Well, I mean it–“

Ace crashes back into his bed, sprawled over clothes and extra blankets, head tilting back and eyes shut. “I trust you.”

Sabo walks a little closer into his peripheral vision. All serious-faced again. His chip-toothed, wild brat really grew up into a soldier. “Full disclosure, though,” he starts. “I've never shared a heat with anyone.”

“What a surprise,” Ace says breezily. Haha, looks like he's gonna be Sabo’s first again.

Sabo doesn't even catch the dig for what it is. Ace clears his throat. “You'll be fine. When was your last rut?”

“Uh. Not too long ago, actually.”

Ace looks up at the ceiling, considering that. It means that Sabo’s alpha instincts likely won’t be so intense. Ace isn't sure how he feels about it. He’ll be burning off two years of suppressed heats and also the traumatic stress, according to Marco.

He worries his lip between his teeth, glances over. “Did ya spend it with anyone?”

He doesn't know why he asked that.

Sabo sort of stares into the corner of the bed. “Not… really…”

Ace laughs even though he wants to hit something suddenly. “What does that mean?”

“I mean, I didn't,” Sabo says with more certainty. Ace trusts that– and it's not his business, he reminds himself. Sabo’s free, all they ever wanted. “I didn't share it with anyone. Full disclosure again, I don't like how I get during my ruts.”

Interesting. What does that mean? Ace tongues at the corner of one of his fangs and considers asking.

He sits up, hunched over his knees. “Sabo. You will be fine. If anyone’s gonna embarrass themselves it's me.” Now that he thinks about it, that's pretty likely. His head dips as if the force of gravity hit it all at once, and he rubs the base of his skull. “Sorry. I wouldn't bug you with this if it wasn't… believe me, it's just…”

Something gets caught in his throat.

“No, Ace, you can always ask.” Sabo is fast to sit down next to him. “I want you to ask.”

“Hey…”

“You’re my brother,” Sabo says firmly.

Ace can’t do anything but laugh. That really was one of the best ideas he ever had. He could get half-drunk on it at any time. He lifts his arm for Sabo to cross. Sabo returns the echo of their surprisingly idyllic childhood, then settles back into place, looking rather mindful of… something. That’s the thing with Sabo. He always seems to have a thousand things on his mind, but you can’t guess when or even if they’re going to come up. Ace leans over and nudges his shoulder. “I’d do the same for you if you had a bad cycle,” he swears, “you know that, right? Drop anything to take your knot.”

Sabo’s shoulders shake with his laughter, though it winds down fast and thin. His eyes flit away. “Dude, stop.”

Ace grins, leaning over.

“Huh, maybe it is starting early…” “Ace, I mean it, please,” Sabo coughs into his hand and then stares at Ace so intently that any playfulness snuffs out. “I need to be prepared for your heat, as much as possible.” Ace blinks a few times. There’s an absurd amount of pomp and circumstance around this. It’s embarrassing, humbling– unexpected. He scoots closer and slaps his hand on Sabo’s back, hard. “Don’t treat it like a chore,” he says cheerfully. “You can have fun, too! I trust ya, and I’m not fragile. I’ve been working on my haki, I could probably kick your ass now–” “That’s not what I mean either,” Sabo says, ruefully shaking his head, but he doesn’t elaborate and Ace is getting sleepy. Sabo pats his thigh and stands up, winding an arm back to loosen up. “Alright, I’ll take care of reading material and the food ‘n water. You’ve got the clothes for nesting. Anything else?” “Nope,” Ace says. He said he was low maintenance and he means it. He shoots finger-guns. “Just you and that dick!” Sabo snorts. Ace tracks his movement and finds himself standing up, walking along to the door. Restless, suddenly. “Good night, Ace.” “Night, Sabo.” They stare at each other. Desire comes to life on the tip of Ace’s tongue. His skin prickles with it.

Sabo is helping him. It’s too much to ask for anything else– especially not after all of Ace’s insistence that he didn’t even have his pre-heat yet. This isn’t need. Not his health. It’s just wanting. Inexplicable, childish wanting. Now that he’s going, Ace wants him to stay. With his hands, which touch Ace so easily; and his tough, pretty smile; and his scent, like the high canopies of the forest stretching toward the sun. In this stuttering, overborne moment, for once, Ace is unable to get his head around the feeling they’re sharing. There’s a huff– it could be either of them– and then Sabo nods, turns the knob, and leaves. Ace waves. Stands there, processing. When nobody and nothing else so much as crosses in front of his room in the next few minutes, Ace free falls into his privacy– into that clunky bed that’s so much more agreeable when arranged to soothe his instincts. Sabo’s offerings are washed in his scent. Ace buries his face in them. His heat is going to colossally thrash him this year. Now he’s stuck inside this tiny, sterile room for a while, too. And he is so, so lucky. The longer he has his nose to Sabo’s shirt, the luckier he feels.

It’s unfair of him to want more. -

Sabo comes in the morning with a box of newspapers and a tray of breakfast. He has enough sense to have brought enough for both of them to eat together– they make room to do so on the floor. It’s surprisingly cozy. Ace cheerfully gnaws on toast and downs orange juice while pawing at the pages, eyebrows raised at this or that headline. He always grins whenever he sees “straw hat” emblazoned on the front pages. Sabo has the same enthusiasm, finding Ace first thing to show him whenever something new comes up. It’s been a little while, though. “D’you think he’s okay,” Ace asks, mouth half-full of apple as he holds up one of the more recent ones. Sabo looks up, slurps the rest of a ham slice into his mouth, pauses. “... Of course he is.” “Uhuh.” Another bite. “Why’d you have to stop and think about it?” “He’s a little reckless, isn’t he?” Sabo notes lightly. “But you said yourself that it always works out for him.” He did say that. It does seem a little suspect though. Ace runs his hand back through his hair again, frowning. He knows Luffy is much bigger and stronger than he used to be. He’s reliable, in his own way. His friends will take care of him. All things that Ace has thought to himself any number of times, with increased frequency in the last few weeks. He can’t wait to start walking himself back from the edge.

“Hey, it’s perfectly natural for an older brother to worry,” says Ace. “Sure is. Do you wish he was here?” “Yeah, a little,” Ace admits, since it’s Sabo– then he immediately thinks better of it. “Well. No, he should be out there becoming King of the Pirates, yeah?”

One-handed, he shifts some of the pages aside to find a picture of Luffy– well, a picture of Luffy’s wacky limbs splayed across the sky in some foreign land. How can you not root for him? When he glances up, Sabo’s smiling just the same as he is. “Yeah, of course,” Sabo replies. “You know… you know we can call him, right? Well, call the Sunny to talk to him.” Ace huffs. “What’s he gonna say? It’ll be the same as always. That kid....” He takes a deep breath. “We’ll see him when we see him.” “Alright, well, if I call him I’ll say you’re busy–” “Hey, if you’re gonna call him anyway, that’s different–” Sabo snickers. Ace starts cleaning up, annoyed again that Sabo has to play errand boy for him until his heat starts kicking his ass. “How are you feeling?” Sabo asks, setting the box of newspapers aside. “Fine–” Ace pauses when he feels Sabo’s bare hand on his forehead. He squints at him critically, an incredulous joke on his lips, but again, Sabo’s so intense at random times. It’s less work to just let him tire himself out. “You know,” Ace reminds him, gently lowering his hand, “you can’t really check my temperature ‘cause of the whole–” Sabo almost squawks when Ace makes use of his logia from the shoulders up, torn into red and orange flames licking the still air, then settling back into flesh. Sabo blinks at him, annoyed, while Ace gets his laugh in.

ummmm ur honor i love them. anyway yeah the idea is like. ace in heat is very Not low maintenance and wait. this:

Ace in heat was boldly confrontational, glaring at Sabo like that.

He started up with I’m sorry only to realize that Ace was channeling all that mysterious ire at his mouth– or, no, at the dull, thin bars of the alpha muzzle strapped over it.

“You going to keep the gloves on, too?” Ace asked scathingly.

“Do you want me to?”

“No.”

instead of finishing the rest of this fic can't i just.. RP it or smth...

#acesabo

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childofsardior · 22 days

Text

What? Iggy's Headcanon from my AU? Here we gooo!

↓↓↓ Read it all below! ↓↓↓

General Info:

Full name: Ignatius Koopa. Iggy was the very first victim of his mother’s realization that she was giving her children long names that could be easily shortened in popular Human's Dimension musicians. Since she already gave Lemmy and Roy longer names, she continued the trend of searching for something that could be compressed into Iggy to mention Iggy Pop. An old Latin name was the only thing she found. By the way, Iggy doesn't mind. He claims that, in reality, Ignatius sounds perfect for a mad scientist, but he's saving his full name for the time he'll be a famous and acclaimed researcher and inventor.

Gender and pronouns: Pronouns are he/him. He claims that "gender is way too complex to be compressed by a single label and even with a one-year-long accurate explanation about how I'm feeling right now could not bring justice to a person's fluidity during the time". If Lemmy asked him to bring a flag for a hypothetical Mushroom Pride, Iggy would probably take the Agender flag with him, even if it's just an "arid and inaccurate simplification and oversimplified approximation of the Koopas and other sentient creatures' complex nature".

Sexuality: He's aro/ace. Again, Iggy's love for accurate explanations will lead him to claim that, of course, one's sexuality is a lot more complex than a single word and the (potentially fluid) result of a mix of innate and cultural factors, educational background, personal experience(s), and even more. But he actually adopted these labels since he found out they are very convenient to quickly describe his lack of attraction - at least, physical and romantic - towards other people, especially if someone is trying to flirt with him and he's like "Oh no". Despite what his siblings think, tho, he would not refuse the idea of a platonic relationship in the (distant) future... if he'll ever find a genius brain that could match his love for science, of course.

Age: He's currently 16 (in calendar years), sharing his age with Roy and Wendy since their eggs were from the same clutch and hatched just a few hours away from each other. He's the one that hatched in the middle, the day after Roy and the day before Wendy. As Royal Koopas mature faster than Humans and such, Iggy could be compared to a 18/19 y.old Human. Just like Ludwig, tho, Iggy has always been even more precocious, being very intelligent and smart since he was a tiny hatchling - but curiously enough he didn't learn how to speak until 1.5 years old, later than all his siblings.

Species: Tarrasquin (also known as "Royal Koopas" or "Dragon-Turtles") - that happens to be a powerful and rare species related both to Koopas and Dragons. The lack of horns at a young age and the number of spikes on the shell may point to the subspecies known as Plains/Field Tarrasquin, while some other details could suggest a "mix" with the Vulcanic bloodline. In addition, all the Koopalings seem to share an innate inclination toward magic and some other unusual details never found before in Tarrasquins, such as tail feathers or natural armors protecting the limbs, along with peculiar tiny gem-like scales scattered around their bodies in different patterns.

Physical appearance: Iggy is a yellow-scaled Tarrasquin with some green accents scattered around his whole body, especially on his head and limbs. On his shoulders and joints, he got some harder, spikier scales. He has long, straight acid-green hair, and blue eyes with the iris detached from the pupils for an unknown mutation. Iggy's Royal Fangs follows a lateral quartet and curved pattern, a slightly rarer variant of the straight quartet one. Some tiny spikes sprouted recently on the top of his tail. He's the tallest among his siblings, and not only thanks to his usual hairstyle - even his green shell is oval-shaped instead of round. He's also very slim, and he looks quite frail for a dragon-turtle. Iggy is actually the most delicate of the family, talking about his resilience and health, and the fact that his body is incapable of digesting meat in the right way doesn't help it.

Personality: Iggy's known as the mad genius of the Royal Family, acting crazy all the time and all. If you meet him in person for the first time, you'll probably agree with the rumors. He often talks by himself, laughs crazily even during dangerous situations, and will always tell you what he's honestly thinking without even pondering his words. He's also easily excited and tends to act hyperactively while he's among other people, while sometimes becoming extremely annoying and even childish when he's hanging out with his siblings. But Iggy's crazed facade is just one side of the coin of his whole personality. He mostly adopts (unconsciously) his extremely mad behavior when he finds himself in new social situations, or between his whole bunch of siblings as a sort of coping mechanism to fight an overwhelming social anxiety. In his comfort zone - usually shared with Lemmy - he'll show a more tranquil and nerdy side, full of curiosity and random facts about whatever he's researching this month. He's also extremely clever and intelligent, mostly in a scientific and inventive way - always thinking about his next projects and mechanical inventions - but somehow a bit naive and usually not very wise. At the same time, he can't really understand most of the things that do not fall into his interests - he can't understand sports, he can't understand politics, he can't understand why Wendy likes so much spending hours at SPAs receiving massages from strangers?? - and nobody can really insult or joke with him, Iggy just won't acknowledge why you're trying to offend him, and will just laugh in response. On the other hand, he actually likes to joke by himself or about his rivals, and even insult his opponents in his own way, leading his siblings to believe he just pretends to not understand how irony works. Most of the time, you will find Iggy content about his next great idea, or way too busy working on his next super-duper-cool machine to worry about life at all, but from time to time even the most clever of the family gets blue. Sometimes he just feels lonely, especially during these days in which he suddenly finds it hard to communicate with others - and he will probably spend them working alone in his labs, talking to himself or even in a deep, thinking silence. He also strongly dislikes being touched without warning, an exception made only for Lemmy, and some days he will just... need a pause from social overstimulation. All of this usually leads to Iggy being one of the most reclusive brothers in the group. In these cases, he prefers to spend time with the weirdest insects in his terrariums or with his Chain Chomp pet instead of being around people. Last but not least, Iggy can usually manage his stress and anxiety when it's about people - he will just go somewhere more comfortable and quiet, be that his room or a lonely tower - but something that really breaks him down is losing or breaking his eyeglasses. It's probably one of the only times you can see him really panic or even cry in fear with wet eyes if that happens during a fight or at a bad moment in general.

Hobbies and passions: Iggy's passions are just a few, but he's extremely dedicated (and hyperfixed) about them. Mechanical arts, absurd weaponry and machines, and futuristic inventions are the first things he's usually focused on, but he loves doing his own research about uncommon flora and faunas, cataloging new animals and plants in his book and PCs. He even "collects" some of them in terrariums and pots, occasionally experimenting with some of his bugs' poison or some weird plant's leaves and lymph. He's also very into videogames since he could put his hands on one, and he's currently the second-best hardcore player of the whole house, just after Ludwig - but recently, Iggy's slowly overcoming him. It's not rare for the two "house geniuses" to compete or even resolve a conflict with a serious match of "Super Smash Siblings", and Iggy is the first one his siblings will ask for help to complete a hard level - since nobody wants to ask Ludwig for help unless it's the only solution left. Aside from video gaming only, Iggy's quite into programming, modding and even hacking. He usually assembles his own and his siblings' PCs and will crack all the games Larry wants in his free time, and while he's not programming some new AI for his latest robotic experiment, he will also spend some decent time on obscure science-related sub-Red.dot, as well on specific sites such as digibutter.nerr, talking with other nerds all around the world exchanging info and nerdy hacks.

Relationships:

With his siblings: Iggy can prove to be a very annoying company, and this is why not all of his sibs like to hang out with him, especially among the older. His younger brothers, instead, are often looking for him for help, to request him some new inventions or hack for their Swiitch or even to ask him to get some new movies and videogames in not-so-legal-ways. His very best pal is Lemmy and they often spend lots and lots of time together, but Iggy has a good relationship with Junior, Larry and Morton, too.

Now, for each relationship with the siblings:

Ludwig: They are rivals, always contending for the title of the real "family genius". But while Iggy just casually claims to be clever and able to do some cool stuff, Ludwig is extremely convinced of his own words and will get quite jealous when Iggy surpasses him - so it's more a very serious rivalry only from Ludwig's POV, while Iggy would be cool about the statement "there are two big-brained Koopas in this house" (three, if you count Wendy in it, but she doesn't have time for this childish type of squabbles). But even if Ludwig doesn't want to admit it, Iggy was the one who inspired him to discover some interest in projecting blueprints for his own war machines and such, and they do work together from time to time when the necessity asks for both points of view. Iggy is also the only one in the family that calls his blue-shelled brother"Luddy", and Ludwig hates it.

Lemmy: Saying that Iggy and Lemmy are best friends would be reductive. They are basically twin-coded (even if Lemmy is a year and half older than Iggy) and probably the two form the strongest bond inside the whole bunch of Royal Koopa siblings. Since they were hatchlings they spent most of their time together. As kids they played together all day, they started to prank others together, they went on "adventures" together... they even tried out various dye colors for their hair together, always trying to match, and until puberty, they were both short enough to be easily mistaken for actual twins at a first glance - except made for Iggy's need for eyeglasses. Then, things started to change a bit. Iggy's growth sprout surprised everyone, and put a big difference between him and Lemmy's absurd shortness; at a certain point, Iggy started to look for his own identity, stopped dyeing his hair and looked for a peculiar hairstyle instead. Their passions differentiated a lot during their teen years, leaving both siblings with less to share. But even if Lemmy was (and secretly still is) afraid of this at first, in the end their bond didn't weaken. They are still both a little weird in their own ways, and they both follow their interests without caring about what others could think of them. They constantly support each other to the point they can finish each other's sentences, and they also confide only to each other. Iggy is actually a good listener to Lemmy's concerns, knowing them so well, and vice-versa. They would end up being the type of siblings that will just go to live together reaching adulthood... if it wasn't for Lemmy's visceral intolerance for the jungle's humidity and Iggy's impossibility of tolerating very cold climates.

Roy: Iggy is a bit afraid of Roy. Being the frail, nerdy one, Iggy has been an easy target for the family's pink-headed bully since he was a kid. If something in Iggy's inventions goes wrong during a mission, Roy will just beat him up without questions out of anger. They do not interact much, and the green-shelled Royal Koopa tries to simply avoid his one-day-older brother when he can.

Wendy: As with Roy, Iggy and Wendy do not interact much, unless forced by the circumstances. Roy and Wendy acting as twins since they were newborns and excluding him on purpose doesn't help. Wendy finds Iggy too frivolous and weird for her liking, and Iggy doesn't understand any of Wendy's hobbies, passions and tastes in general. Wendy would spend all her savings on new clothing and accessories...? "Why would you need them? We are dragon-turtles, not Humans! We do not *need* clothing!" Wendy would spend a whole day at her favorite SPA, letting strangers touch her with massages, wearing weird masks made of food and even taking Mud Baths?? "Is she crazy? Why would anyone like to be touched or even "beaten" on purpose? And wasn't she the super-clean one that hated dirt in all its form??" On the brighter side, Wendy, as opposed to Roy, never bullied Iggy for his behaviors when he was younger.

Morton: The two spend some nice time together, especially since Iggy started his "let's teach grammar and spelling to our big, dark-scaled bro!". Iggy's the only one who is actively trying to help Morton with his speech issue, and every week they are learning new conjunctions, verbs and words - Iggy's ultimate goal is to prove to his other siblings that Morton is not "just a dumb head" as they sometimes claim - even if they are not doing too much progresses by now. Iggy also allows Morton to keep him company during field research and asks for his help from time to time when he needs to assemble big and heavy pieces, counting on Morton's innate strength. Morton is also allowed to assist him during his "I need some silence, please" working moments, as long as he stays silent. Iggy is also trying to teach him how to catalog weird rocks, but Morton just seems to enjoy the pure act of collecting them and putting them in nice places around his room.

Larry: Iggy and Larry have a decent relationship overhaul. Larry LOVES Iggy, especially when he needs something. Iggy feels quite proud of it, feeling a bit like Ludwig in "big, responsible bro mode". They usually spend time playing videogames together or thinking about unofficial mods to apply to the boring Mushroom Kingdom's videogames (for example, modding their own stylized models in the game to be able to play as themselves instead of as a boring plumber in some popular platforms). Aside from that, Larry and Iggy's other interests don't match much, but Iggy is one of the few who can tolerate the younger for the most time.

Bowser Junior: The two have a good relationship, mostly because Junior loves Iggy's crazy "Bahahaha!"-style laugh and most of all his inventions - the Koopa Heir is even approaching the absurd world of (fantasy) mechanic thanks to Iggy, and is trying to learn how to do some projects himself. He always asks Iggy for some new upgrades to his Junior Clown Car, new pirated Swiitch games (when King Bowser refuses to buy him more), new cool toys (such as the Mechakoopas, that Iggy originally created as toys for tiny Larry and Junior) and some times even for super giant mecha to use against the annoying Mario Brothers. Iggy is also surprisingly protective of Bowser Junior when they are on missions together, maybe because the youngest of the family unconsciously remembers Iggy when he was small and frail himself, in need of Lemmy's protection.

* * *

With King Bowser: Iggy has a decent relationship with his adoptive father and King of the Koopas. He *does* see him as a parental figure, even if he doesn't often agree with his plans and can't really understand the way the King reasons. Bowser will frequently ask Iggy to create new anti-Mario weapons, for Iggy's pleasure, but aside from that the two don't interact very much - especially since Iggy is extremely honest with his opinions and Bowser doesn't really like when someone is questioning his Royal Authority. Iggy is also (currently) the only one who likes to jokingly call Bowser "daddy" or "royal daddy", something everyone in the family dislikes a lot.

With his Mother (OC): During the years the siblings used to live with their mother, Iggy was the curious boy of the house. He was always finding new things to show his mother, from funny-shaped leaves to colorful feathers to new books full of dinosaurs. He was a bit reclusive and shy too as a child, and their mother had to step in and protect him from Roy's arrogance or after a fight with Ludwig, a role that Lemmy took themselves when they started to be old enough. Being his mother and Iggy both a bit autistic and filled with social anxiety, too, they could easily understand each other about how stressful it was to stay among strangers and how stressful overstimulation could get.

With Charlie (his Chain Chomp): Iggy has a Chain Chomp pet named "Charlie". It is not the first one he gets, but it's actually the first one he is being responsible for. When he was younger, he had other Chain Chomp pets (he really likes them) but was too childish and irresponsible to properly take care of them, usually leading to the poor magical creatures to run away at some point. In recent years, tho, he's getting better at pet-sitting and caring, and Charlie seems grateful for that: he's probably the happier, more satisfied, polished, well-fed Chain Chomp of the whole Kingdom, and it's extremely loyal to Iggy - and Iggy only. Charlie would bite anyone that gets too close, except for Lemmy whom it now trusts enough to let him ride its back from time to time.

With the Mario Bros., Princess Peach and Mushroom Kingdom: Iggy doesn't really care about conquering, but he is very much interested in studying native creatures and plants of each Kingdom. During peacetime, he would gladly attend some nerd conventions in the Mushroom Kingdom, and he would literally love to meet Professor E.Gadd in person... if the Princess didn't blacklist him from entering the borders as she did with almost all the Royal Family and the Koopa Troop. Now Iggy would need to request a special permit weeks in advance with a lot of boring bureaucracy to fill and a valid motive to stay in the Kingdom for two days maximum, so... he doesn't really like the Princess for this reason. While with the Mario Bros., Iggy would usually be excited to see them - they are, after all, perfect punching balls for his newest battle machines, and his Chain Chomp loves running after them - but he actually dislikes them a lot since they broke his glasses once years ago, during one of their first fights.

Peculiarities & co.

Right-Handed: Iggy is naturally right-handed. Looking at Ludwig's confidence in using both hands for a long time, he tried to train himself to use his left hand as well, for a while... but then he just gave up, finding it too hard and tedious.

Senses: Iggy's biggest weakness, physically speaking, is probably related to his poor sight. Without his special glasses, he is almost blind - he hatched with a severe visual impairment and during his first years of life it just went worse. When he was around 3, his mother was lucky enough to meet a Magikoopa glassmaker who worked with special lenses and Iggy was able to see decently for the first time in his life. When he was later adopted at the castle, the royal eye doctor took him under his supervision. When Iggy was around 10, he started working on his own, personalized pair of eyeglasses, mixing actual glassmaking science with some Magikoopa's cultural knowledge and a tiny bit of adaptive magic to create the "Perfect Iggy's Glasses" (after a lot of trials and fails and prototypes); his last version mixes the best glass from the Sand Kingdom with some strengthen magic from the Red Robes' Magikoopa Order to make them unbreakable... after the various incidents during the years.

Autism: Iggy falls under the autism spectrum, with many traits close to IRL Asperger Syndrome to be more precise - (NOTE: I am sure a "SMB world" equivalent exists with a nicer name, I just don't know one yet-). To be honest, Iggy always suspected it way before being actually diagnosed with it by the Castle's doctors. He's mostly fine with it, accepting his autistic traits as part of his own uniqueness - and, if you ask him, as a part of his genius, too - but sometimes he would gladly take a break from it... especially when overwhelmed by too much noise or when stressed by social interactions. Iggy is also very much convinced that almost everyone in his family has some (sometimes prominent) autistic traits, but the others are not so willing to take tests or talk with doctors to find out, so we will probably never know for sure.

Vegetarian: Iggy is MOSTLY vegetarian. Not by choice, but thanks to his body being very bad at processing meat, for some reasons. "Mostly", because he actually *could* eat very small amounts of meat/fish from time to time without getting sick, but it happens so rarely that he usually even forgets about it. Luckily for him, he loves all types of vegetables, eats lots of fruit and likes eggs A LOT (probably his favorite meal after carrots and turnips); not very fond of dairy products, but he eats them during the week, and will probably only eat vegetables and fruit related cakes. Will also try to get as much protein as he can from legumes, but since Tarrasquins are considered mainly carnivores, he often needs nutritional supplements.

Fire: All the Koopalings have a peculiar "fire"; when fire-breathing, they all will breathe fire of the same color as their shells. Iggy's fire is currently the weakest of the whole family, but it tends to create a lot of green, urticant smoke that makes it hard to see. It's not too useful in actual fights, but can work as a great distraction in need of a quick escape from a bad situation.

Random Facts:

He's a germophobe, and will sanitize his tools, hands and workspace every time he starts and finishes working in his labs.

Iggy is not having a *real* shower in almost 3.5 years. Instead, he perfectly polishes himself from any type of dirt using his own invention, the "Sonic Shower Sound Waver Filth Remover". He also uses a special gel made by himself to treat and keep his hair up every morning.

Iggy doesn't have many friends, especially IRL. But he sometimes finds himself in a group chat or nerdy forums with the same people for enough time, and he'll start addressing them as his "online pals" or "online weirdos".

One of his "online weirdos" is a guy named Francis and obsessed with butterflies. They never saw each other in person nor via webcam, but Francis claims he's a Chameleon and has the hugest collections of comics, manga, action figures, and video games of all his other nerdy pals, probably of his whole dimension, too.

One day Iggy and Larry decided to create a videogame together with an easy game maker on PC. Larry wanted to be the protagonist, but couldn't decide about a genre for the game. It ended up looking like a horror-action-but-also-dating-sim game with a cooler and older version of Larry fighting horrible un-deads while also trying to flirt with the cute ones. It was meant as an inside joke between the two brothers and they got bored after three days. One year later, tho, Iggy secretly started to work on it again out of boredom and actually finished "developing" it, even publishing it on an obscure forum of free-to-play games. It now exists in the world under the name of "Larry Koopa: Zombie Heartbreaker".

Francis, Iggy's Chameleon online pal, is the only person who completed said game 100%. Iggy sent him an exclusive physical copy as a joke after learning about this.

Larry won't like finding out his game has been "published" without his consent - and most of all, for free. He will force Iggy to work on a sequel with an even cooler and adult version of Larry as the protagonist in the future, known as "Larry Koopa the Heartbreaker and The Revenge of the Dry Bones Queen". They will get royalties from that one, this time.

Some years ago Iggy started gifting tiny plants for every birthday he attends - usually, his siblings'. They can be flowers, succulent plants, carnivorous plants and even the equivalent of the SMB world of... weed (probably, some tiny variant of Wonder Flowers... we'll call it "Wonder Weed" lel) - but the vulcanic climate and his siblings' negligence will let the poor plants dry in a few days. Roy is the only one who is still happily cultivating his tiny Wonder Weed pots after three years.

Recently Iggy found out about TTRPG games; he tried to involve his sibs in it, convincing Lemmy and Ludwig at first, Roy after a while and Larry just recently. Iggy is currently mastering his first campaign of Thousand Years & Doors, with a party made of Ludwig (High Elf, Wizard), Lemmy (Firbolg, Druid), Roy (Half-Orc, Barbarian) and Larry (Dragonborn, Bard). Junior wants to play with them but knowing his bratty attitude they send him away claiming the game is for "Larry's age and up" only.

Despite this, they are regretting letting Larry play, too. He's the classic "I only use Vicious Mockery! I'll destroy all my enemies INSULTING their parents and siblings and cousins in a *magical" way! Can I try to open the door exploding it with a bad joke?". Iggy is at least grateful that Larry is still too young, naive and not very into *adult jokes* yet, because as a deeply asexual Game Master he couldn't bear the even more stereotypical.... "18+ annoying bard attitude" (if you know a bit of IRL D&D classes stereotypes, you got what I mean.)

One of Iggy's biggest pet peeves revolves around "adult *spicy* jokes", especially when too explicit. He can't stand them. He hates them with all his heart and spirit. He just cringes so much hearing them that he would prefer sinking into the ground and disappearing instead.

He doesn't like bunnies much - herbivorous animals in general make him nervous, especially small ones. Maybe this is due to Roy always joking about Iggy looking like a carrot and that he could be in serious danger among a rabbit warren…

He's probably the only one in the family who, despite his name and all, can't sing or play any instrument. Ludwig could play a whole orchestra by himself and even more, Lemmy can play the electric guitar & bass, Roy can play the drums and the violin, Wendy can sing and loves to, Morton can kinda play the bass drum and has perfect timing with the triangle, Larry is learning how to play the electric keyboard and the Otamatone and is quite good at mixing and remixing music from his PC... and even Junior is starting to learn something about the transverse flute and the piano.

Once, Iggy tried to work on his own AI that could "create" music for him, of course using others' works as a "base" to train it. His siblings - especially Ludwig - basically threatened Iggy of unaliving him in response. "Go on. Try to put my music inside that bot. Then you'll enjoy eternity as a Dry Iggy, I can assure you". -Lud

Rumors say that Iggy can instead dance quite well (in his own unique style), and even perform a perfect moonwalk. But nobody knows for sure...

His IQ score beats Ludwig's by a few points. Iggy is extremely satisfied by it, while Ludwig is trying to forget this information every day of his life.

When he was a kid, he created a "Time Machine" way before Professor E.Gadd himself. Iggy really wanted to see dinosaurs, and traveled "back in time" to observe them in their natural habitat. Then one way during his dino-watching, a random dude dressed with modern clothing passed by selling some "Yoshi-to-Fungi" dictionary, and Iggy understood that his "Time Machine" was actually working as a "quite normal, quite boring" teleporter to the Dinosaur Islands instead.

Bowser seized the opportunity using the fast-travel to get his army there, trying to conquest the Islands. But Mario was having a vacantion there and... it... didn't end well.

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