#just all i ask for is one singular break for once life... im tired and stressed and in general have been kinda kicked around for a year

[rottingcompost]

Anyways so I went to a staff meeting at work today because we all had to go, and we all found out that our work place is shutting down. We do have the chance to keep working at bk, but if we want to, we have to move to another city entirely or take the bus or train every single day for hours at a time. Now I dont know about you but I wouldnt move away from all my friends and family to work at a shitty fast food resturant, and I am currently looking for new jobs. Wish me luck. Life just keeps getting weirder and more shitty before it lets me have any sort of break i suppose

[beigehearts]

Yandere adult trio: college AU These are drabbles for when they lose their mind and kill the people around you... and kidnaps you

These are going to be a little longer than usual but I hope y'all enjoy it as much as I did when writing it (also im trying out the beta version of the new posting system so lemme know if anything is weird)

Sorry this took me forever bro

CW: murder, blood, physical abuse, alcohol

Hisoka

It's getting quite annoying to be completely honest. He just won't leave you alone, constantly flirting and making passes at you. And yet at the same time he makes fun of you and is actually very mean. It wasn't so bad in the beginning but this is just getting out of hand. You made sure he was aware of this. ---- He's looming over you as he corners you against the wall. You refuse to look up at him, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of a reaction.

While you aren't looking at him, you can feel him looking at you. You already know he has that annoying grin on his face that makes you want to punch him square in the nose.

He brushes his long fingers against your face, making a quiet humming noise. "Are you ready to give up my pet?"

You ignore his words and slap his hand away from your face. "I need to get to class, move Hisoka."

He frowns though you aren't looking at his face. He opens his mouth to say something when someone from behind him calls out to you. "Hey y/n! Are you okay?"

She walks towards you but before she can get involved you shove the man away and huff. What a nuisance. You turn towards him once you're standing next to your friend and glare at him.

"Leave me alone. It's annoying and it's scaring people. Got it?" Before he can respond you turn on your heels and drag your friend down the hall by her wrist just hoping to put distance between the two of you. ---- You're pretty sure you made it clear that you don't want him near you anymore. But by now you know he doesn't give up so easily. One can only hope that he gets bored of you and finds someone else to bother.

You and your friends went out for brunch earlier, and all was well until Chelsea handed you something. She said that she found it in her bag but it was addressed to you, so you put it in your own bag.

You pour yourself a rum and coke and make yourself comfortable on the couch of your shared apartment. All of your roommates went out for drinks but you were too tired to go out.

After taking a sip of the sweet liquid in your glass, you examine the letter you were given earlier. It's a typical white envelope with your name written in pen. There's no address on it or return address so you assume it was just supposed to be handed to you.

You rip open the letter with your finger and pull out the singular loose leaf paper. It's folded in three sections so you pull it open. The handwriting is messy but in an aesthetic sort of way.

Dear y/n, I strongly suggest that you go to class 406B in the technical building tonight. Don't be late or you'll miss the whole party. 10:45 pm - see you then. I almost forgot, if you don't come I have some revealing pictures of you that I can share with anyone I wish to. XOXO

This is the strangest letter you've ever received. It's probably a prank by one of your roommates or friends. You've never sent nudes to anyone so obviously they're bluffing.

Though perhaps you should entertain your friends and go. Who knows, maybe there will be drinks. But you are tired... Maybe you'll just go to bed. You peek over to the time on your phone, it's 9:12 pm. Yeah, you'll just go to bed after you finish your drink.

'bzz' 'bzzz'

Who is texting you so late at night? You sit up and realize you fell asleep on the couch. You wipe the drool off of your face and grab your phone with distain for whoever woke you up.

It's a blocked number.

ur late

Late? Late for what? Your phone displays the time, 11:27 pm. Are your friends really this committed to their prank? They must be trying to get Tik Tok famous or some shit. Well you're awake now, you might as well head over there.

----

The moment you step into the building something seems off. If all of the lights including the emergency lights wasn't enough, the ground seems sticky. Though you can't bring yourself to use your phone flash light to see what it is.

Eventually you find the room 406B in the darkness. The door is closed and no lights are on in the room. It seems as if no one is inside. As you reach for the handle of the door, you notice something on the window of the door. You can barely make it out, but there's what looks like a hand print. You chuckle, this must be a prank.

Now feeling a little better, you open the door and step inside. It's too dark to see anything but you can make out some figures in the dark. It must be your friends thinking they're being sneaky.

You roll your eyes and look for the light switch, finding it and switching it on. You squint at the sudden light, and your eyes begin to focus. Which you wish they never did.

There is blood everywhere, on the ceiling, the windows, the floor, the tables... But that's not the most jarring part. Your friends are sitting in chairs, one of them sitting on the ground against the wall.

There is your friend Chelsea, sitting in a chair with her head tipped down. You can't even tell what color her clothes originally were, they're covered in red, a dark dark red. Next to her is Derick, he's sitting the same way except his head is tipped backwards. His eyes are wide and his face is left in permanent horror- expressing the brutality of his end. You can't bare to look anymore, you drop to your knees and cover your face with your hands.

You scream and scream until your voice is hoarse and throat is raw. You're left coughing while you are drowned by your own tears.

"Are you ready to give up yet?" A deep voice asks from in front of you.

You can't stop the flow of tears as you look up at this monster. He's also covered in blood, and some is splattered on his face. He wipes a thumb across his face in the blood, and brings it to his lips. Sobs rack your body, you can't even make sense of this.

Hisoka squats down so you're face to face and grips your jaw bone tightly in his hand. You can feel the now cold substance being rubbed against your jaw by his fingers and it makes you want to puke.

"I got tired of waiting for you." His grin is nauseating, forcing you to stop yourself from puking.

His nails dig into your skin, mixing your own blood with that of your friend's. He brings his face close to yours and in a gentle but menacing tone he croaks, "Let's stop this childish game, alright y/n?"

Illumi

It's easy to miss things when you're caught up with the rush of classes and friends and love. All of the parties and hangovers are enough to satisfy your needs for entertainment and drama in this boring life. If you didn't fill up your daily life with these acts, you would probably sleep every day away until you fell into a coma.

To put it short, you're a busy body. And busy bodies don't have time to stop and look around at what is happening. For example, how were you to notice the key under your doormat was missing, or how your dresser drawers were left slightly open when you know you closed them before leaving. Noticing these small things are definitely not on your agenda.

It's 10 am, Saturday, and you don't have any classes or work today. You're sitting at the kitchen bar, drinking coffee and chatting with your roommate. It isn't often that you have a free day, and sometimes it is nice to have even if you want to get moving. The sun is peeking through the curtains and the aroma of espresso beans is a delight. It's a bit chilly so you have a blanket wrapped around your shoulders. What a peaceful morn-

'BANG BANG'

Your roommate eyes you when someone bangs on the front door, already knowing the events that are about to take place. She rolls her eyes and stomps up the stairs to her room, not wanting to get involved. You always feel bad that your roommates have to listen to this but you're really not sure how to end it.

You take your last peaceful sip of coffee and call out, "Come in!"

Before you can even finish your sentence, he storms inside and slams the door behind him. Your boyfriend of course is mad about something you've done. He trudges towards you and moves the stool next to you out of the way, and leans towards you so his face is next to yours.

"Are you kidding me y/n?!" He yells in your ear, but you don't flinch because you're used to this.

He rips his phone from his pocket and shoves it in your face after pulling up a screenshot. It's a conversation between you and his friend.

"Can't you learn to shut your damn mouth? This is our business and you have no right to tell anyone about it!" He's practically seething with rage.

You take a last sip of coffee and set your mug down on the counter. You continue facing forward and not facing him. "It's not our business, it's yours. And I asked him if it was true that you were cheating on me." You turn your head towards him while grimacing and mutter, "Again."

Ah but you've just lighted a bomb with your words.

His face has gone red and he looks like he's about to explode. You begin wondering why you were ever attracted to him.

"Maybe if you weren't such a prude! I can't even kiss my girlfriend whenever I want, it's ridiculous. You know full well that you're so... so... Ugh! You know what? Fuck you!"

As quickly as he came, he runs out of the house, slamming the door once again.

You whisper to yourself, "Fuck you too."

God he's such a child, you don't even want to be with him anymore. But every time you decide to break up with him he suddenly becomes Mr.Perfect. "I'm so sorry." "I love you." "Let me make it up to you." And then he does make it up to you only to tear down all of his hard work.

----

It's been a few days since your big fight with your boyfriend. He hasn't talked to you at all but this isn't uncommon for him. You promised your roommates that you would break up with him, not just for yourself but for the sake of their peace and quiet.

You texted him a few times while you were at work but he left you on read. He's so petty. So you text him one last time.

Come 2 my place at 8 tonight, We need to talk

He answers immediately which surprises you.

Can't, flat tire Come to my place

It doesn't make a difference to you where it is so that's fine. You wonder if maybe he's come to terms with the fact this needs to end. Hopefully so. If there's one thing you want him to be mature about, it's this.

Your shift ends at 6:30pm. You drive home, shower, get dressed, eat something and get ready to leave.

You send one last text,

OMW

It's read immediately but there's no response. Well, it's not like you expected much from him anyway. You drive to his house at 7:45 pm, and arrive around 7:58 pm. All of the lights in his town house are on. He's a few years older than you so he has his own house due to somehow being able to hold down a job. With his anger issues it's hard to believe that he can hold onto anything. Damn, he really is an unattractive person isn't he?

You step out of your car and lock it. Now that you're out of the car you realize that it's very quiet. This is unusual for when you go to his house, normally you can hear music or the sound affects of a shitty video game. But it's silent. Maybe he's waiting for you? He must be taking this well.

You step up the creaky stairs of the house, and knock on the equally as creaky door. No response. Maybe he's sleeping? You peek into the mail box and take out the extra key for the house from it. But when you go to unlock the door, it's already unlocked. This is becoming very strange.

You push open the door and peer into the dark living room. It's not too dark that you can't make out the furniture in the darkness. You step inside and shut the door behind you, it's still quiet. Not quiet, absolutely and undeniably silent. You flick the light on and look around again, nothing seems out of place. It's messy, with empty beer cans and bottles on the ground per usual. The stains on his carpet remain untouched, including the vomit stain in the corner.

"Jay?" You call out into the still atmosphere. Nothing. Is he not home? That can't be, his car is in the driveway.

The sound of his old floor boards being stepped on echoes through the house. What the hell is he trying to pull? You look up the stairs, but it's only darker up there than it was down here. He must be drunk.

Each step you take up the stairs, your heart begins to pound faster. Something feels off, this doesn't feel right. This isn't like your boyfriend, he's simple, he wouldn't try scaring you like this. On the top step, you feel your shoe touch something soft. You lean down and pick it up, and raise it up to your face. A pair of thongs that definitely aren't yours. So that's what's happening. He couldn't even pull himself together for one night.

Your pounding heart is no longer caused by fear but anger. He's cheated too many times to count on your hands, but this time makes you angrier than you've ever been. He's never been in bed with another woman knowing that you were coming over. This is fucking ridiculous.

You stomp towards his room and kick the door open. It's dark but you can tell that there are two people in bed. Your vision has gone red, you've never been this angry in your life.

You don't bother turning the lights on, you storm over to his side of the bed and rip the covers off. Just barely you can make out a woman sleeping next to him. You grab his shoulder tightly and shake him violently to wake him up.

"Get the fuck up Jay! Get! Up!" He doesn't respond, you lean down and yell in his ear like he always does to you. "You're such a childish piece of shit!"

He still doesn't move or speak, for fuck's sake. You stomp back to the entrance of the room and flick on the light. You turn around and begin walking back towards the bed, when you're stopped in your tracks.

Everything is red, but it's not your vision anymore. The bed has been dyed red, and his naked body is covered in it. Your mouths falls open but no screams come out. The woman next to him is splayed out on the bed, naked as well. Covered in red. You look down at the hands that touched your boyfriend, they're also red.

You rush over to the bed and shake your boyfriend again.

"Jay? Jay! Can you hear me?" You put your ear to his chest but you don't hear anything. You put your finger under his nose but don't feel anything.

"Hey! Hey! Wake up! This isn't funny!" Tears stream down your face as you pull him to your chest, cradling him.

Your sobs make it hard to speak and your chest begins to hurt. "J-... Jay... This- isn't-" You gasp between each word, "Funny..."

It's only when you hear a noise coming from behind you that you stop to think about what's going on. It doesn't matter to you though, they could kill you too if they wished.

"People are strange." You turn your head to see where the voice is coming from.

It's someone you don't recognize, he's tall, pale, has long hair, and hypnotizing eyes. Your sobs cease for a moment and you hug your boyfriend tighter to you.

"All of that fighting... You were even coming here to break up with him and yet... You're sad that he's gone?" He makes his way towards you slowly, "I've done you a favor, haven't I?"

He looms over you but all you can do is stand there, frozen by fear.

The man grabs the back of your shirt and pulls you violently from Jay. You try to run back to him, but the man pulls you to him, hugging you tightly. No matter how much you flail in his grasp you can't get away from him. You're left sobbing into his shirt, your body limp in his arms.

"Why?" You manage to whisper.

He holds you to him with one arm and pets your hair with his other hand. "You were miserable. He was making you miserable."

He sighs and kisses the top of your head. What is going on?

"Come on, don't waste your energy on human garbage. I'm here, so it's fine." He states it so 'matter of fact'.

"Who?" Is all you can ask, unable to finish your question.

"I guess I haven't introduced myself yet. Illumi is my name." With ease, he grabs you by your shoulders and lifts your face up to his. "Your future husband."

Chrollo

What more could you ask for? You already have easy college classes, fun parties, a good part time job, great friends, and an amazing best friend. Tonight you're going to hang out with a bunch of friends and have drinks at one of their apartments. It's a pretty normal Thursday night, nothing odd about it.

You're waiting for your best friend to pick you up, he's always there to pick you up on the dot. If he doesn't come early that is. You shove all the essentials into your bag and hear a honk outside. Must be him.

But of course you're always tardy. You lace up your shoes and run out of the dorm room, tripping out of the building. He's watching as you stumble towards the car since one of your shoes is already unlaced. When you finally flop down in the passenger seat he shakes his head with a knowing smile.

"Oh y/n, will you ever be organized?" He asks with amusement.

You click your tongue and straighten out your clothes, "Don't ask such stupid questions."

He turns his body towards you as much as possible and pats his lap. You instinctively know what that means. You hike your foot up above the console and put your foot on his lap. He begins tying your shoe, his smile is unmoving. He's always smiling.

"Chrollo, you don't need to baby me." You roll your eyes and groan.

He laughs and pats your leg, signaling that he's done. "If not me then who?"

You swing your leg back over to your side and buckle up. The two of you hang out a lot. Since you're both going to the hangout tonight, you decided to car pool. But first you're going to go get the alcohol. Everyone has to bring something for everyone, that way you guys can get wasted with no qualms.

You plug your phone into the aux and play your shared playlist. The first song that comes on is "The Cult of Dionysus" by The Orion Experience. Something that he added.

Finally you feel like you can relax, it always feels that way around Chrollo. His presence is just, comforting, in every way. You feel like you can do anything, say anything, ask for anything. He's always there for you with no exceptions and honestly you think you may have feelings for him. But it's a question of are you confusing comfort and friendly affection for romanticism. It's just that he's so perfect, he doesn't have a single flaw. Not one that you've ever seen at least. You probably never will see one of his flaws.

You sink into the seat and sigh.

He looks at you out of the corner of his eye, but quickly looks back at the road. "What's the matter?"

"Oh nothing... Just, everything is good."

He knows you better than anyone, so it's an obvious lie when you say this. "But what?"

Anytime he calls you out, you surrender and tell him everything. "Everything is so great you know." He nods with your statement. "I go to a good school, have good friends, have a good job." This has been on your mind for quite some time.

"Something is missing, you know? The excitement, the... the..." You chuckle and turn towards him and put up jazz hands, "The pizzazz!"

He doesn't turn to look at you but you know he saw you when his smile widens. "I get that. Maybe you just need to step outside of your comfort zone. Do something different."

Do something different? Yeah, maybe that is what you need.

----

All eleven of you are sitting in a circle on the ground, drinking and playing never have I ever. You take a long drink of your Mike's hard lemonade, which is just something to get the night going.

Dina wipes hair from her face and smiles, "Okay okay my turn. So never have I ever.... Uhh." She pops up when she thinks of something, "Never have I ever jumped out of a window."

DJ leans forward and raises an eyebrow, "Okay what kind of window we talking? High up? First floor?"

Dina answers, "Any kind, any kind of window." The majority of you put a finger down which makes the group burst out in laughter.

Your friend Zoey finishes off her bottle and slams it down on the floor. "Let's play something else."

"Like what?" One of your friends ask.

Zoey thinks for a moment, "Like... Truth or dare, spin the bottle. Or maybe eleven minutes in heaven."

Dj interjects, "I think it's seven minutes in heaven, not eleven."

"Oh whatever DJ, they rhyme." Zoey spits back.

Lex answers, "Let's play seven minutes in heaven!"

Of course DJ huffs and rolls his eyes, "What are we? Middle schoolers?"

Guac (which is his nickname) speaks up, "Oh come on, are you shy DJ?"

Finally the quiet Chrollo sitting next to you says something, "I'm not really interested. Right y/n?" He looks at you to back him up.

The group coos at the two of you and someone says, "We get it, you got something going on. The game is just for fun, don't be so serious Chrollo."

Chrollo opens his mouth to say something but you cut him off, "Hey, you told me to do something different. Maybe this is the first step."

His face shows betrayal and you feel a squeeze in your heart.

He stands up and glares at the group, "Whatever." He storms out of the apartment, and everyone mumbles to each other. Chrollo has never acted like this so this is quite a shock to everyone.

In order not to kill the mood you speak up, "Alright, let's pull names out of a hat!"

All of you write down your names on a small piece of paper and put it in a baseball cap. Dina pulls two names out of the hat and of course makes it a dramatic event.

"Alright so first we have the most lovely of people..." She looks at the group like a teacher waiting for an answer from her class. "Gracie!" Everyone claps and she stands up in front of all of you, taking a bow.

Dina pats her thighs rapidly, "Drum roll please!" Everyone obeys her, "The next hot piece of ass is y/n!"

You stand up and curtsey, taking Gracie's hand and leading her to the closet. Dina stands in front of the closet once both of you are inside and grins, "Timer starts now kids." She shuts the door on you two and all of your friends cheer from outside.

Here comes the awkward part. It's too dark to see her expression but you already know she's blushing.

You lean towards her and in a low voice so no one else can hear say, "We don't have to do this if you don't want to."

She shakes her head, and you brush a hand through her dark coils. The both of you giggle when your finger gets stuck in her hair. She leans in for a kiss, but before your lips meet you're interrupted.

The front door is opened and slammed shut, you hear the lock click as well.

"Hey Chrollo, you feeling better?" "What are you doing?" "Holy shit, please, what are you doing?!" "Are you fucking crazy? This isn't funny!"

Something slams against the closet door and Gracie yelps.

"Whoa whoa, we can work something out." They sound desperate "Back up!" You hear a loud thump and then screams. "Grab him guys!" It sounds like people are running around, but soon the screams become not those of only fear but of pain. There are gargled pleas and pathetic whimpers for mercy.

You and Gracie hold each other, gripping onto one another for dear life.

Soon the screams, pleas, thuds, gurgling, all of it ends. The apartment goes quiet and you try to silence your heavy breathing.

There's a loud thud right in front of the closet and then the doors are opened abruptly. There Chrollo is, covered in blood, and you can see the bodies of your friends behind him. Before you can react, he pulls Gracie away from you, slams the doors closed and there's another thud.

Gracie's screams are blood curdling, screeches and cries for help. You try to open the doors but something is blocking it, keeping them closed. As her screams get louder you throw yourself against the doors, trying to push whatever is there out of the way.

Before you can even imagine of getting out, the screams fade out into whimpers, and into nothing.

Holy shit holy shit holy shit.

You're given no time to think when the doors fly open and you're face to face with Chrollo. He's blocking out the light and his usually neat clothes are crumpled and bloody. You look down to his hands, a sledge hammer hangs from his fingers, dripping with your friend's blood.

"Ch-Chrollo... Please don't." You whisper.

The sledge hammer drops to the ground and he wraps his arms around you gently. "Oh y/n. I would never hurt you."

He's so gentle with you, so gentle. It almost makes you forget what just happened, because he feels like home. "Why? Why did you do this?"

He steps back and grabs your shoulders, he leans down so he's eye to eye with you. "They crossed a line, a line that should not be crossed."

You begin to speak but he grabs your cheeks with one hand and dawns his usual smile, "You don't need them. You have me." He kisses your squished lips as if it were normal. "Right y/n?"

Slowly you nod, you don't need them. If Chrollo says it, it must be true.

"Good girl."

[dreamsmp-au-ideas]

Star Wars AU:

(I JUST SPED-READ THIS WHOLE AU RN AND IM BRAINING SO MUCH AND WROTE THIS AS I WENT!!!!

TW: there is an explanation of Sally’s death, but not to detail really! As well as TW for blood!)

After Sally was killed and Fundy was taken,he switches between the personalities of ‘Ghostbur’ and ‘Alivebur’ maybe? (Maybe around Tommy being taken as well as Tubbo? He kind of switches back and forth on both these types of ‘states’? I cannot think of the correct wording but yeah)

Sometimes he’ll just Not Sleep or he’ll wake up after a vivid dream, panic seizing his chest (he sometimes uses his force to try and convince himself that none of this was real and that awful day was just a nightmare to try sleep. He was still living in his old home with Sally and small Fundy with childish giggles being the only thing he heard; but it never really works. He doesn’t think about the Knife he lost. Nope.) Either way, he is not very mentally stable at either of these times because he’s lost all these important people because he can’t protect them.

(He remembers how the blood leaked out of his chest and his vision slowly began to blur as he sat by the love of his life who had now been dead for minutes or maybe an hour before he got into contact with his family.

‘Hello?...’ he knew that voice... he thinks he does. The voice belonged to someone with kind eyes and wings that added to great hugs...

‘Phil?....’ a cough, god the taste of copper and salt of tears was a horrible mixture before coughing again, barely hearing the concerned voice and another voice in the background.

‘Wil, what’s wrong mate? What happened?’ The voices were conversing again, he’s slowly focusing more on the blood that’s leaking out of the open wound in his chest.

‘I-I...’ he either chokes on a sob or his own blood or maybe both. ‘I couldn’t stop them... please..’

He doesn’t remember the rest of the conversation that well. )

He’ll just go around in the morning back home with Phil, Techno and the addition of Tommy like usual, bags under his eyes and said brown eyes don’t have the same shine they used to and he’ll walk up to someone, a blue bracer on his arm, fingers tracing each indent (in a certain way it feels warm, as if her hands hadn’t even left it after she placed it on his arm all that time ago..) and just

“Have you seen Sally and Fundy this morning? I didn’t hear either of them when I woke up...” and their looks make him feel confused, why do they look sad like that?... it’s not like they just upped and left or something.... right?

And either it’s that moment where continues to block every single detail of That Day or he remembers everything so vividly and perfectly like it happened that Morning (sometimes both) and the memories flood in of the love of his life on the ground lifeless and his son gone and remembers the way his chest burned and his throat ached as he screamed and shouted and moved and Sally was cold, cold, lifeless, never to laugh or sing or dance or make fun of Tommy for being a Child or anyone-

No one to sing his little songs with as they sung their little champion to sleep after the child’s nightmares or temper tantrum’s of ‘I’m not tired!’ As he would hold a little stuffed toy of a weird blue creature dubbed ‘friend’ that Wilbur had passed down to him after the toy was once his comfort as a child, a gift from Phil.

—

‘Now Fundy, this is Friend, they look a little weird and a bit old and dirty, but I know they’ll keep you company too, okay? They’ll protect you and stop your nightmares... I promise you that. They’ll fight all the bad guys in you dreams, okay little champion?’

And if sometimes someone will catch him in his sons room with a singular candle lot whilst he holds a blue stuffed toy singing a soft lullaby as his voice cracks where Sally would’ve once add her own parts, no one questions it.

—

Then Tubbo is taken; sweet, kind and enjoyable and funny Tubbo with a heart of gold and steel - And Then Tommy, his stupid younger brother and those assholes who took both of his brothers away from him. And then it happens to Tubbo again.

And Dream as well.

Not as if he’s slowly starting to care about him. Nope. Dream is just.... an ally. (No one should be forced to work for those bastards god damnit, no one. It’s not like he cares about Dream more and more because this happened with Tubbo too-)

(He does his best to ignore the voice in his head that shouts at him that he can protect no one, but he’s already believed it from the beginning.)

And so if he slowly becomes stubborn and doesn’t care about his well being again and only talks about blowing the place that holds his brother captive to smithereens? (Like the Empire blew a bullet through his chest and his wife’s head.) Whos stopping him from blowing the place to kingdom come to get Tubbo back? (The injured innocents - the sane part of himself whispers in his mind, those who can’t protect themselves and need to be protected a voice that sounds like Sally says.)

Who’s stopping him? He’s doing it either way. He...He needs to. He has to doesn’t he??

Not to mention his excitement on light terrorism with Niki and Jack, if he’s allowed to go a little crazy he’s going to Make It Grand.

—

He’s so cold all the time (argbur reference? In my ask? Yes.) he wants to be warm again, but his warmth was taken... he doesn’t like being cold...when was the last time he felt warm?... he can’t remember right now. He misses Sally, he wonders if She or Fundy would be proud of him. (Iykyk 😔)

-

(I’m not sure what else should be added with ‘Alivebur’ , but please he needs so much therapy it’s not that hard to see when he’ll sometimes go into his own little world and relive memories or something completely new and talk to his dead lover and son who he also believes he’ll never see again.)

-

And when he finds out the Fundy that wears a helmet around him is the Fundy who was taken away from him so long ago and it’s the first time in a long time that he finally breaks down in front of someone? He doesn’t care right now.

And if he gives Fundy one of the hunting knives Sally gave him at their wedding? He wants his son to have a memory of his mother too.

-blue

Perfection. Absolutely perfect. I love all of this. Just everything about it is great.

[incorrect-ikevamp-quotes]

pls scream about Leo a lil bit cause my love for that man is neverending and i live for you guys' blog,,, and ur comte love fuels me??? head empty except for those two pureblood clowns

HNGNGNG I hope that both you and everyone that reads my shenanigans knows how utterly understood I feel when I see anyone stan Comte, if not both of those idiot purebloods bc good lord...I live for two tired fossil men that just want DOMESTIC BLISS. Literally they have no brain cells beyond respect women and we love that for us, it’s spectacular!!

Under a cut bc I went off and is long:

That being said I’d be happy to yell abt Leo!! Where do I even begin, this man was the reason I got into Ikevamp in the first place, and I’ve read just about every single one of his events at this point. He just makes me so TENDER!!!!!! For whatever reason the first thing that came to mind was this one time he lies about being jealous and MC is lolol u a fool if you think I can’t tell when you lie to me. And he’s so fuckiNG SHOOK?????? It’s even funnier because she’s internally like [I’m not 100% sure but for a second there he almost looked mad...time to test this theory even if it’s just A GAME T H E O R Y] And he’s so fucking pikachu meme that shit sends me. I can’t handle the fact that he’s so used to people just assuming he’s fine, that he can handle himself. That he’s lived for so long without really anyone noticing at all. (Comte absolutely notices and will lightly roast him, but doesn’t really push him about it or wants to overstep). And so when MC just actively pays attention and is so gentle with him he’s just floored???

God I’m crying now, but I will just never forget the funeral scene in his fucking rt. This asshole, this absolute moron, straight up tries to come at us with “yOu GeT uSeD tO iT aFtEr HaLf A mIlLeNiUm, i’M nOt SaD”. Like are you serious. Come here and let me hold you before I throttle you. Absolute clown. He’s just always trying so hard to get by on his own and it breaks my heart. How long...how long has he lived just getting by, nursing his own wounds and dragging himself up all by himself. HE LEFT HOME AT LIKE 14 (whatever the fuCK SOME TOO YOUNG AGE) AND RAN STRAIGHT INTO THE HANDS OF PEOPLE THAT HATED HIM FOR HIS TALENT. HE REMEMBERS HIS MENTORS DESTROYING HIS UTENSILS WHILE TRYING TO ESCAPE PARENTS THAT WHOLEHEARTEDLY REJECTED ANY EXPRESSION OF LOVE OR COMPASSION FOR HUMANITY THAT HE CHERISHED SO DEEPLY. I DON’T NEED SLEEP I NEED TO HUG HIM IMMEDIATELY FUCKING HELL.

Like.........there’s just........I don’t know how to explain it, but I once saw it explained so well in a post. It was basically talking about Castlevania, and how in that show Dracula sees humanity’s folly and develops so much hatred he just goes straight to murder rage. And while in some ways I understand that, I understand even more deeply Trevor’s response to humanity’s fear and violence. He says that he knows they’re short-sighted, that maybe we all just don’t deserve saving...but that he’s going to do it anyway. Leonardo just so much gives me that energy of knowing there’s so much pain in the world, but all we can do is keep walking--keep trying, even if we have to claw our way forward. Because if you only see the awfulness in front of you, you forget the way that strangers make silly faces at babies to make them laugh on the train, how a friend will put everything down to race over to someone and comfort them with some ice cream--do anything they can to distract them from the hurt. How the sight of a child crying will prompt careful cooing from a stranger as to their bravery, an offering of cool water, the gentle placement of a bandaid. How a pair of teenagers will spot a lost child in milliseconds and help them seek out their parents protectively. There is so much wretchedness, but also so much beauty in it all, and the older I get the more I see myself wanting to believe in the latter. I want to be hopeful, and easily impressed, and full of love. To be bitter and jaded accomplishes nothing, and only becomes a worsening self-fulfilling prophecy. The more you seek negativity, the more you will find it; and worse, create it.

I also scream a little bit bc like. I’ve gone on and on about how Comte is very obviously in love with MC all the time, and sure that may be true. But...I really don’t think Leo is exempt from that either if I’m honest lmfao. Only because what does Leonardo do when it isn’t his route? He almost never shows up. Once in a while he might appear for a split second in a scene, but he almost never converses with MC beyond those short moments. While Comte is the one to pine openly, I’d wager Leo is the opposite. He pines in absolute silence, because he knows that if he gets any closer--he’s going to fall. He’s going to enjoy it too much, going to keep seeking out more before he can stop himself. And losing another person he loves...he just can’t do it anymore. In his first meeting story he talks about seeing MC’s eyes and feeling like he’d known them all his life, and even in his MS he speaks to just being completely fascinated by and enamored of her. She doesn’t hesitate, always does her best, meets people head-on and without much hesitation. After a lifetime of people that are probably just immediately interested in him for his talents, or always seeking out his company for the novelty, this is someone that doesn’t give a single fuck if he’s Leonardo da Vinci. Sure she’s aware, and sure she’s impressed to some extent, but her respect--her attraction and admiration--is something that has to be earned. 

There’s something so refreshing about how their love was written. Sure it’s the whole fake marriage to a real relationship, but it’s also a kind of subtle enemies to lovers pulled off masterfully. MC is 100% minding her own business, just wants to do what she must in order to get home, tries to focus on her work to keep from thinking about how much she misses her old life. She doesn’t rely on anyone, doesn’t talk about how hard it is or how scary it is or how confusing. And even Leonardo forgets in his curiosity, is just chillin and also just trying to do the bare minimum to keep from getting too attached--figures he can admire her from a distance. And then he sees her staring at the hourglass. And suddenly, he can’t just watch her do that herself. Just wait for the hard times to pass, just sit with her own loneliness--that hollowing silence. There’s something so moving about it because he reaches out precisely because he knows that feeling to his fucking marrow, and literally just cannot watch somebody else do that to themselves. Sure he’s been dealing with it for three hundred years, BUT THIS GOOD BABIE CHILD DOES NOT DESERVE THIS. SHE WORKS HARD AND DESERVES NICE THINGS!!!!!!!! And so he drives her crazy as he races ahead of her, intercepting any attempt for her to preserve that silence and hide. She doesn’t see any pattern to it, and that’s just how he likes it--he doesn’t want her to worry about the how or why. 

Like I fully remembering playing in Japanese and being like oh my fucking god this is hilarious, this man is just a wild fucker and I love this. I was enjoying myself, mostly laughing and shaking my head. But then it just gets so, so serious. I was having so much fun that I, like a fool, forgot the anime effect. If you’re having fun, it’s going to come crashing down without mercy soon enough. And it does. He helps a little girl without any hope play her violin again, and maybe I’m just too English major but I was fucking FLOORED when I realized I didn’t see that that was straight foreshadowing. That little girl without hope? That was MC (and by extension depending on how you play, us). Though the metaphor isn’t quite so easily mapped without a physical space, the connection is clear when you think about it. With his careful social awareness, he makes a place for MC to exist in the mansion so naturally--as though she was meant to be there from the start, crafts a positive impression of her presence with each of the residents. And he does it with zero expectation of anything in return; he’s just happy to see her not stressing herself out anymore or trying to do everything alone. MC doesn’t fall in love with him despite their differences, she falls in love with him because they are the same in a singular and all-encompassing way that matters; they both care about other people so deeply, to the point where they will forego any personal needs in order to make that person’s life easier. Whether it be muting their own hardship, or working to involve another person in a new space (or opening up to the point of self-destruction to keep a person from feeling alone), they go above and beyond what anybody asks of them--perhaps strong to the point of their own detriment, in some cases. 

It’s why I always laugh when he says to Sebastian “That cara mia, she has a good heart.” Of course she does, Leonardo; it certainly takes one to know one. 

And because I literally have no brain cells beyond being in fucking love with Leonardo THE LAKE SCENE IS AN AFFRONT TO MY DIGNITY AND SELF-CONTROL. HOW DARE YOU, SIGNORE. HOW DARE YOU ASK ME TO SIT THERE AND WATCH YOU OPEN YOUR HEART TO ME AND NOT BAWL MY EYES OUT AND TRY TO KISS YOU ALL AT THE SAME TIME. SIGNORE “hAhA yOu’Re So SmAlL yOu LoOk LiKe YoU’rE DrOwNiNg In My CoAt.” I WOULD DROWN AND DIE HAPPY--BITCH I TELL YOU THAT.

Like. I can’t think of another route I’ve ever done where I spent a good amount of time like “lmfao this guy is so wild im gonna punch him” to just be in a whirlpool of my own tears, regretting my entire fucking LIFE days later. Like Leonardo’s cultural impact???? Fucking immeasurable, I wish every white man disaster I ever met had a hidden heart of gold in all of his boyish dumbassery, an ICONIC himbo of our time. 

Also because I remembered it before posting and I am Dying^TM. The event where MC was a pureblood and he was human. That entire fucking event. I literally can’t think about it without screaming and crying. Her just so flustered at his reaction to her like “oh look, free real estate” as he plops her in his lap, absolutely no fear, treating her like a princess because of her noble title despite NO NECESSITY BEYOND PLAYFULNESS BUT ALSO STILL MEANING IT IN AN EARNEST WAY, being charming to no END just to see her laugh or look away shyly. 

WHEN HE SAID. WHEN HE SAID “...Can’t leave you alone, or you might go off someplace I can’t follow.” I. CONGRATULATIONS, YOU STRIPPED DEVOTION DOWN TO ITS BARE ESSENTIALS!!!!!! GAH HOW MC HERSELF SAYS “I would tell him the truth but...he’s much too generous for a human. I know he would offer his life without a moment’s hesitation.” How Leo describes the aftermath of her biting him: “Lucky for you, I’m a true gentleman, Unlike my principessa, who took me like a storm” HELLO??????? H E L  L O ???????????????????????? ARE WE JUST GOING TO SLEEP ON THE FACT THAT HE LOST HIS ENTIRE SOUL WHEN SHE BIT HIM???? I--

Thank you for coming to my TED Talk.

(Also as much as I love him the cigarillos have got to go at some point, boy do you have any idea the shit secondhand smoke does good lordt)

[fyrapartnersearch]

looking for longterm novella-style partner

general hey guys i'm lauren, 26 years old and living in EST! i just got dumped and thought i'd fill the void in my life with some good, good writing so i'm looking for some people to plot and rp with. i'm usually bopping around on social media and love talking to my partners, whether it's getting to know them or just plotting future events for our characters.

i'm also very ditch-friendly! if you're tired of me or our rp, totally just ghost me, i'll get the hint. no need to get all anxious over breaking up with a partner. it's rping, it's all chill. if you're able to, giving me a head's up that you're not feeling the rp would be great though! i will absolutely return the courtesy if i'm not feeling it anymore either.

as a quick side note, i will only rp with people over the age of 21, and have a preference for partners over the age of 23! i just feel more comfortable when my partner is around the same age as me.

posts and characters i only write in third person past tense and would prefer for my partner to do the same. i'm very flexible with post lengths, but i tend to be on the wordy side. i'd love it if you could provide four or five paragraphs per post on average, though i absolutely value quality over quantity so post length isn't a huge concern of mine as long as there's something to reply to! longer posts are wonderful as well, and i have no issue waxing lengthy posts if that is your preference.

i generally reply at least once a day or once every other day, but even if i'm tied up with work and not able to reply consistently, i'll absolutely be available to chat. i'll let you know when i'm busy and love to shoot plot ideas back and forth even when i can't put aside a chunk of time to reply.

characters! i love playing multiple characters, but having a singular main character is great too. i prefer playing OCs but can also do canons, which i'll talk about more below. i have no preference about what sort of character you're playing, that's your decision! i like to develop new characters for each rp i do, but feel free to bring in old characters if that's what you want! i like characters that are complex and interesting and not ultra-powerful people -- or if they are, you're able to explore the emotional repercussions of it. if you're looking for a specific sort of character to play yours against, give me some guidelines before i whip up an OC and i'll be happy to make someone that fits your needs. i adore creating characters, and like making side or background characters that pass through or come in and out of the plot.

i like creating characters before the plot, rather than the other way around. i have a huge preference for character-driven plots -- putting our characters in a setting, and then letting their specific quirks and motivations lead where the rp goes next.

i also can provide rp samples if you'd like to see my writing before we rp!

genres; love and sex so first let me prattle off some original character genres that i love! i will list fandoms later.

• adventure; anything with a band of people coming together and forming a found family, traveling together on the way to a goal with obstacles thrown in their way • fantasy; i adore fantasy, whether it's magical realism or all out medieval fantasy. world-building is one of my favorite things. sci-fi is great too, but i'm not great when things get too tech-y haha • paranormal/mythical creatures; sort of goes with the fantasy, but i'm always down to rp different species in any sort of setting • fairy tales; i love taking old fairy tales or stories and giving them a unique twist, whether it's making them #gritty or just tossing them in a different sort of setting • superheroes; people with superpowers using it for good or evil and coming together yesss • romance; romance is great and i'll discuss that below, but i prefer this to be like a sub-genre • AUs; i love taking a fandom and making it an alternate timeline or AUing it completely. also once we have characters and a rp established, i love love love talking about AUs for our characters. i will AU everything, there is no AU too AUish for me

those are just my favorites so feel free to suggest others, but i will not do slice of life. i just find myself bogged down when there's not a defined plot, and it doesn't keep my interest. i also love these things if you'd be interested in tossing any of them in the rp:

• mages • shapeshifters • daemons [like from his dark materials] • people with horns or wings • pirates • dragons

pairings what up what up. i love rps with a dash of romance, whether our characters come in as an awesome couple battle duo, or two dorks realizing they're developing a crush on each other. either way, i don't like characters who are not in a relationship immediately getting together -- i'm all about the bonding and character development. i do not like rping cishet m/f pairings. bi girl and bi dude falling in love is great. trans man and trans woman falling in love is great. ace woman and a masculine nb person falling in love is great. any other type of lgbtqia+ pairing is great. if you have a general preference for m// or f// just let me know!

i also love anything unconventional, from happy polyamorous couples to obsessive unrequited pining. love triangles are great, conflict is great, anything to keep the relationship fresh and interesting without verging into the realm of over-dramatic. if you're looking for someone to rp a dark and unhealthy romance with, i am your person. also if you want to rp cute poly couples. i am also that person.

for fandoms, i'll do canon/canon and OC/OC but not canon/OC!

smut smut is totally rad, as long as it's not the sole focus of the rp. i like the smut to add something to the character, the characters' relationship, or the plot in addition to just being for porn's sake. cute smut is great. dark smut is great. getting to do both is even better. i do have a handful of smut-based limits including things like water sports, pedophilia, vore -- if you want a complete list just ask when you contact me. themes i would enjoy exploring typically depend on the character and what my partner's limits are.

limits i don't have any limits besides the aforementioned smut limits. besides that, i love violence, gore, and swearing. i like exploring dark themes when the rp calls for it. i do not like rping with people who treat trauma, abuse, and psychopathy as personal traits or try to make things obnoxiously dark and gritty. but otherwise everything's pretty much on the table! if you have any limits please let me know -- i have no problem not swearing or avoiding certain topics or fading to black if that is your preference.

fandoms stars denote preference.

dragon age [origins; da2; inquisition] ✩✩✩ dragon age is my favorite thing in the world and i would love someone to rp it with. i have a preference for OCs though would also be up to rping canon characters. rping an OC MC with OC companions is my jam, though i also like exploring what the rest of the world is up to while the main plot is going on. also any AU of dragon age is great -- inquisition in a modern setting, kirkwall with a sci-fi twist; universe diverging where the bad guy wins and stuff like that.

pokemon [any gen] ✩✩✩ i am always down for a pokemon rp you have no ideaaa. however i really like my pokemon rps more serious (i know how ridiculous that sounds). i like exploring aspects of the pokemon world outside of just being a trainer and getting badges. i like to rp pokemon like they're intelligent animals, meaning that wild pokemon aren't so easily tamed and pokemon can get hurt. i'm also so down for crossbreeds/fusions. i have some plot ideas in mind for pokemon and would love to hear yours!

final fantasy [IV, VII, VIII, crisis core, advent children, dissidia] ✩✩ i have this random love for IV, but honestly i am total VII trash and have been playing the remake a lot. i'm also a little familiar with XIV and have some OCs already created for a setting like that.

fallout [any game] ✩✩ would love to do OCs for this, and admittedly something in the commonwealth would be rad because i've played 4 most recently. brotherhood of steel is always great, anything with them is awesome. also stuff with synths that involves questioning what it means to be human and have faith in your own identity/memories w/e w/e would be cool. also just a general AU of a fallout-like setting maybe set in a city that hasn't been explored yet.

kingdom hearts [any game] ✩ i'd love something in the bbs era, but honestly anything is great. exploring nobodies successfully turned into ansem-heart-holders, the new keyblade warriors to defeat ansem (this guy gets around), or kh1&2 characters during the bbs time is all great. for canon characters sora, aqua, ventus, marluxia, and larxene are the ones i've played the most but i'm always looking to branch out.

medium i like to rp over discord, email, or google docs, with a separate discord channel or IM for separate chatting and plotting. i'm also open to making a joint tumblr blog that we both post our posts on, which i did not know was a thing until very recently!

contact if you're interested please shoot me a message on my tumblr or at Lauren#5244 on discord! :)

[acelikesturtles]

“Ice Cream Sunday”

Prompt: Depression Comfort One-shot feat. Olivia & the Turts

Warnings: Lots of internal reflection about depression and mental health stuff. Also there’s like one curse word, maybe more, I don’t remember??

Word Count: 1,783

A/N: The formatting on the original post got royally FUCKED as always and near gave me a heart attack when I realized what I did. Hope you don’t mind @dw-im-just-sad​! I also hope that there are sunnier days ahead for you, I too have been struggling with a depression episode recently (which is part of why the drabble for this prompt is coming in a little later than I’d have liked it to), so I definitely know at least some of the feeling. <3

Lazy Sundays were normally pretty good in Olivia’s mind.

The lack of obligations, the peace and quiet paired with the promise of a more fun night ahead when the boys got finished training or doing whatever it is they did during the day. Today’s Lazy Sunday didn’t feel as good though, if anything it made her feel worse the more that she was a part of it. Staring up at the ceiling of the lair, her mind felt simultaneously numb and tired while still managing to be alive with an uncomfortable amount of unaddressed emotions.

Aside from the laid back bliss that came with a Lazy Sunday, this was supposed to be her happy place. Although the initial experience of the stench when she came in was (and always would be) unforgiveable, her nose became adjusted to it until it was practically background noise amidst the experience of being with the turtles. Their little home environment was always so loving and warm, a spot where she could escape or run away from a world that felt so harsh and anxiety-inducing and instead surround herself with people that eased her into smiling even when life was at its most difficult.

Even if the lair was usually a safe and happy place for her, it didn’t mean that it cancelled out the rest of her own very prominent emotions, particularly right now. Reluctantly, Olivia had to admit that this was probably her depression again, baring its teeth and looking for a fight that she didn’t have the energy to start. It wasn't like it ever went away when she met the boys, if anything it just enjoyed burying itself like an ostrich in the sand when they were around before pulling its head back up when they weren't. It didn’t quite like company as much. After all, it was infinitely easier to take her down when she was alone.

Blinking slowly, she recognized that while there may not have been one singular reason for the depression to start bubbling up, its persistence despite her attempts at distracting herself from it probably meant that it would be there to stay for a while, or at least until she found a big enough distraction to offset the emotions and the experiences. The boys had said they wanted to run a movie marathon once the day’s activities were over, so that would probably help. Or at least she hoped it would.

Olivia ran her hand down her face and let out a deep and shaky breath. The weight of her own emotions started nudging her closer to tears, and she gave in rather reluctantly. She tried to be quiet, only letting one or two tears out so she wouldn’t break into a full out sob. This wasn't the place to cry and be sad, this was the party pad and nobody cries when they're in the party pad, Mikey had said it himself one time.

Right as she was about to get up off the couch she had been curled up on to get herself a glass of water, her eyes quickly met with Mikey's. He was hovering over her now, a few beads of sweat on his forehead running down the side of his face. Their training session must have been particularly brutal today if even Mikey was sweating. Normally that was reserved for Donnie, he tended to get winded a little bit faster given the brutal workout routine Splinter kept them on.

"Are you crying, dude?"

"No," Olivia said defensively. She sat up so she wouldn't have to feel like she was under a magnifying glass quite as much as she did with Mikey peering down at her from over the back of the couch. "I'm tired, that's all."

"Nah, nah, dude you were crying, I can see it in your eyes they’re all red and stuff," Mikey seemed really insistent with one hand reaching for and firmly grasping her shoulder. His face seemed more empathetic than it did confrontational. "What's wrong? You can talk to me."

"I-"

A jumbled mess of every last thing that had ever felt wrong or ever been wrong throughout her entire life flashed in front of her mind. It wasn’t like one specific reason stood as the answer to why she felt like this, it was more like an unfortunate combination of it all that left her drained, and had been leaving her drained for years now. She frowned, then looked down at her jeans and began picking at the worn frays of denim at the bottom of her pant legs. Talking about it would just get complicated, especially to Mikey. He oozed pure light and joy almost all the time, would he really understand what this kind of thing felt like?

"Seriously Mikey, its not that bad, just feeling kinda off I guess. I'll be okay."

Mikey narrowed his eyes at her before thrusting himself over the back of the couch and onto the cushions to join her. Clearly he wasn’t buying it. “Its okay to cry, I do too,” He said softly. His own openness to admitting his emotions was remarkable seeing as . “He wouldn’t wanna admit it, but Raph does too at those puppy commercials.”

“ASPCA Ads.” Donnie interrupted through a sigh. He had been sitting in his desk nearly the entire time, typing away at something important while monitoring the security cameras. As for how he managed to get out of today’s training, she didn’t know, but he at least had seemed to be enjoying his little vacation time away. He got up from his chair and plopped himself down criss-cross on the floor in front of them, whispering, “Sometimes we gotta flip the channel cause he gets all worked up seeing them. But you didn’t hear that.”

Olivia couldn’t help but smile, even if it was just a weak smirk that tugged at the corners of her lips. That sounded like Raph alright, the boy had a soft spot for pit bulls and other big tough seeming dogs and seeing them suffering in kennels all alone would probably pull at every last heartstring he didn’t even know he had.

“I better not have heard you say what I just think I did.” The now looming shadow over her spoke. She turned her head and saw it was Raph, who only peeled his eyes away from Donnie for a moment to look down at Olivia. Suddenly the thought of beefing with Donnie outside for embarrassing him didn’t seem as important to him once he caught sight of her puffy and reddened eyes. “Are you crying?”

“Fine.” She gave in. “Yeah, I am, but its fine, seriously. Don’t worry about it.” Olivia sighed. “Sometimes I...I don’t know, I just feel like this, no reason to worry.”

“Nah, I ain’t worrying, just wanna make sure its not because of one of these two knuckleheads.” Raph responded coolly before shoving at Mikey playfully and pushing him off the couch so he could sit. “Why are you feeling like that though?”

“I don’t know,” Olivia sighed. “I just do sometimes. It doesn’t really ever go away, just subsides for a little while."

A couple moments of silence filled the air, only punctuated by the sounds of Leo's footsteps as he joined the conversation and sat down beside Donnie. "What's going on?" He asked, looking from brother to brother.

"Olivia's been feeling super sad and its bumming her out." Mikey answered, rolling onto his back.

Great. Now everybody was on her case. Olivia braced herself for the long and draining conversation that was bound to be ahead about why she was actually sad and why she had depression when her life “wasn't as bad as some other people”. She had heard it all before and none of it helped, it only made her feel worse, like she was a weight that everyone else was forced to carry.

"Is there any way we could help?" Leo asked. His expression seemed genuine, as if he was coming from a place of understanding rather than judgement. As her gaze drifted over each brother she noticed a similar strain of understanding and friendly compassion behind their eyes (except for Mikey, who was still laid back on his shell waving his arms back and forth as if he were making snow angels.) Even the usually closed off Raphael, who seemed particularly invested in what she might suggest.

Olivia didn’t really know what would help if she was honest with herself, but maybe there was some merit behind the thought that their genuine desire to help her could take the edge away for the time being or push her out of the storm clouds she had been sitting under. Her gaze once again drifted across the room to each turtle, hesitating to answer as she parted and closed her lips again. What would help?

“I don’t know.” She answered truthfully, feeling a little embarrassed at her own lack of an answer yet again. There had to be something, she just didn’t know what it was, couldn’t place her finger on it. Crawling out of one of these depressive episodes was a process, not something that happened overnight.

“That’s okay!” Mikey said, now sitting back up and pointing a set of finger guns at her. “We can help until you do know.”

"We could all use a little company when we're not feeling good." Don smiled.

“Not going anywhere until you’re feeling better.” Raph nodded in agreement.

Small waves of relief washed over Olivia’s body. The numbest parts of her mind began to feel a little more warm and relaxed. The turtles didn’t know the full extent of how much their friendship meant to her, or the positive effect they had on her most crushed and beaten down psyche. Despite maybe not entirely understanding, they were still able to offer a hand out in peace, something that reminded her of why she so often called the lair her second home. This was a happy place, a party pad, a place to have a good time like Mikey always said. But Olivia saw another side of the lair too now.

This could be a place where she was able to cry and feel her emotions while still having a support system at her side by the end of the day.

Although she still felt pretty shit, Olivia finally had something on her mind that she felt like could help her, even if it was just a little. “Movies and ice cream.” She said softly, rubbing her puffy eyes. As Mikey excitedly got up to fulfill the ice cream part of her request, she shouted after him.

“Two scoops!”

[rorykillmore]

so today is @firelxdykatara‘s birthday!!!! she asked for a fic with natasha in it, and i thought, well, villanelle went home a few days ago on denny but we never got to rp her’s and nat’s reunion. so i did a little fic of it!!! i hope you enjoy, kitty (and i hope i wrote nat okay, im love her) because i do adore this dynamic and i am just so happy we’ve gotten the chance to build it together as much as we have

also, have a wonderful wonderful birthday!!!  i know this is not exactly the easiest time of year to be celebrating, but keep your chin up and know that you have friends who love you and certainly love getting to spend a little bit of extra time with you. you have lifted my mood more times than you know by just being around and making me laugh, so i hope i can return the favor <3

Natasha is telling her little parts are enough, and oddly and inexplicably, Vilanelle thinks just then that maybe this is the safest she’s ever felt with another person.

The house is quiet the night Villanelle finally goes home. For a moment, she stands there out on the front porch and just breathes in the familiarity, the smell of the ocean and fire pits from down at the beach on the breeze, the sound of waves crashing against the shore in the distance. It soothes her, even if imagining what might be waiting for her inside does not.

With her and Draco gone, maybe Natasha and Fox have already cleared out. Personally, Villanelle doesn’t see grief or mourning as very good reasons not to live in a gorgeous and expensive mansion, but people and their emotions can be so unpredictable sometimes.

Maybe they are just out doing something. Maybe they are planning her funeral. Villanelle had considered further delaying her return for the sole reason that it would be incredibly fun and dramatic to crash her own funeral.

But barring that, she should probably stop standing here wondering about it and actually go inside, she figures. So she steps up to the door, and --

Damn it. 

It’s only when she tries the handle that she remembers she does not exactly have a key on her. To her own goddamn house. Wonderful.

Villanelle steps off the porch in favor of prowling the perimeter of the house instead, making for the pool deck in the back. Neither she nor her roommates are exactly the “hide a spare key under the doormat” type (they are all much too paranoid for that), but fuck, what is she, an amateur? If she cannot even break into her own home?

She’s just trying to figure out a way to do it without having to pay a window repair man -- and that’s when she rounds the corner of the mansion and sees that she was wrong.  The house is not completely dark.

There is a light on in (what she estimates with a fair amount of confidence, considering how long she’s been here) Natasha’s window.

And suddenly, Villanelle gets the perfect idea.

Experimentally, she grips some of the ivy casing crawling along the wall and, once she’s sure it’s not going to give, she starts to climb. Natasha’s bedroom is only on the second floor, thankfully, so it’s not like she has to make it the whole way. When she gets up to the window, she pauses briefly to readjust herself before giving it a quick tap. She doesn’t even detect any movement in response, but she knows that’s most likely because Natasha is smart enough not to put herself in plain view of a potential intruder.

Sure enough, the curtain gets pulled back a second later, though, and Villanelle finds herself face to face with her friend with only a panel of glass to separate them.

Natasha stares.

Villanelle grins, and uses her free hand to give her a little wave.

She holds her position as Natasha finally seems to remember herself, unlocking the window and pulling it open, and by way of greeting --  “You... realize you could have knocked.”

“I did,” Villanelle responds innocently.  “Technically.”

“At the door.”

“I thought you would respect me making an entrance.”

Natasha’s lips twitch, like she wants to smirk, but she doesn’t.  Maybe she’s still a little too rattled. Villanelle will have to try harder. But that will have to wait until she actually climbs inside, which she does carefully when Natasha moves back in clear invitation.

“Surprised to see me?”  she asks once she’s steadily back on her feet, offering Natasha a crooked grin.

Natasha doesn’t respond immediately. Instead, she first takes a moment to study Villanelle, who studies her right back, taking a quiet sort of delight in how good she’s gotten at reading Natasha’s usually inscrutable expressions.

She takes less delight in the troubled shadow of sadness she sees in Natasha’s eyes, but... well, what can she do? She can’t take back the fact that she was forced into the Games. Or the fact that she died there. 

“There were rumors some of the tributes were coming back,” Natasha finally responds. “But the RID hasn’t gotten anywhere close to verifying all of them.  So... yes.”  She gives Villanelle a tired sort of smile.  

Unexpectedly, Villanelle wants to reach out to her.  That’s a relatively new impulse -- so far, she’s shied away from too much physical contact with most of her reunions, or at the very least being the one to initiate it. Maybe the difference here is that Nat has always been so unexpectedly grounding for Villanelle -- not that she would ever be sappy enough to put that into words. But --

-- In some ways, it’s only now that she’s here with Natasha that it finally registers that she’s home.

She curbs her impulse and sits down on the edge of Natasha’s bed instead, shrugging.  “It was a surprise to me too,” she admits simply. Understatement of the century, but that part probably doesn’t need to be said.

Carefully, quietly, Natasha sits down beside her.  “...I’m not going to ask if you’re okay, because at this point that’s a stupid question.”

Villanelle hums in agreement.

“But depending on your level of... not okay, I’m...  you know. I’m here.”

And Villanelle supposes that she wouldn’t have gone to all the trouble of scaling the wall to climb in through Natasha’s bedroom window if she had not, on some level, wanted her to be. She considers for another stretch of silence before she attempts a response.  “...You know what it’s like.”  Perhaps not the Hunger Games specifically, but extreme conditions of survival, endless cycles of violence, trauma? Villanelle is sure Natasha’s on the same page.  “Sometimes it is best to just compartmentalize and move on.”

Natasha exhales slowly, but there’s nothing remotely judgmental in her expression.  “It’s certainly easiest,” she agrees, without pushing. Villanelle instinctively relaxes a fraction.  “Especially since you haven’t exactly had a lot of privacy over the last few weeks. It’s just... sometimes it’s also good to have people you don’t have to hide everything from.”

It’s the way Natasha says it that makes Villanelle pause before just shoving the idea away completely. Most other people, Villanelle knows, would have said “you can talk to me” or “you don’t have to hide from me” or some bullshit like that, expecting her to open up like a book waiting to be read.

But Natasha knows that for people like them - people who have worn and shed the skins of many, many different personas, who may not even know who they really are if they dig deep enough underneath all that - it’s not such an easy thing to do. An impossibility, even, to give someone the whole of yourself, or even just the whole of a singular feeling, when you are so used to only chipping off and offering little parts.

Natasha is telling her little parts are enough, and oddly and inexplicably, Vilanelle thinks just then that maybe this is the safest she’s ever felt with another person. She sighs, and then laughs, the sound rusty with disuse.  “It feels weird. Giving your life for someone else.  Not good. Not special.”

Silence answers her briefly as Natasha turns to stare at the wall opposite, her mouth twisting wryly, sadly.  “...Yeah. I know what you mean.”

And she does, Villanelle realizes belatedly. Everything before the Games feels so much further away now, but she still remembers that ridiculous future marriage they’ve both avoided talking about. And she still remembers what Natasha told her, even if she has been trying to do Natasha the courtesy of pretending that she didn’t.

“I know what you did in there must go against all of your instincts. And everything you’ve been taught,” Natasha starts, her voice hitched with just enough emotion for Villanelle to know she’s speaking from experience.  “...But you made your own choice. And you did it for someone you love. And whatever else you want to think about it, Villanelle, that still proves that you are so much more than just anything anyone could train you to be. Than every fucked up thing you’ve been through.”

Villanelle swallows without saying anything and stares down at her hands. It makes her think of what Natasha said before, when she had described the sacrifice she’d made for Clint.  That she was broken. Villanelle has never thought of herself as “broken”, at least not in any kind of self-deprecating way, but she feels a little bit like she is now.

Mostly, though, she thinks about how Natasha came here after dying. How Natasha has probably not had anyone to tell her these things.  And Villanelle, surely, would not be very good at it if she tried, but...

...She finally reaches out the way she wants to, and squeezes one of Nat’s hands with her own. “So are you,”  she asserts firmly, determinedly, staring back at Natasha with all the adoration she can still muster (surprisingly, a lot, even given how exhausted she is) as if she can single-handedly, telepathically convince Natasha of how amazing she is.

And when Natasha squeezes her hand back tightly, Villanelle thinks, maybe she can’t fix everything for Nat just like Nat can’t fix everything for her. 

But maybe they can do it in little parts, just like everything else.

[angrylizardjacket]

when i said it i thought it was true [4] {Ben Hardy}

A/N: 2973 words. Listen, I massaged the timeline a little bit, just suspend your disbelief, perhaps it only takes 4 months to be in post production. Also yes I know X-Men didn’t actually film in Egypt, but I didn’t know that at the start of this fic and now I’m sticking with my mistakes because momma didn’t raise a quitter but she did raise a fool.

[part 1] [part 2] [part 3]

“You’re not proposing to me in a sheer shirt.” The moment the makeup team leaves, you turn on Ben, amusement tugging at your lips as you cross your arms, cocking your hip.

“You don’t like it?” He asked, the picture of innocence as he fiddles with the cuff of his jacket. You raise a singular eyebrow. “I think you do like it.” He hummed, a mischievous sparkle in his eye. When you refuse to break eye contact, your silence is answer enough. “I think you like it a lot.” 

It’s been almost a four months since shooting officially wrapped, two since you’d filmed the last of the pick up shots they’d needed, and a full month since you and Ben seen each other in person; you’d been busy with a Netflix series, and Ben had been in talks about a new project, and you’d been messaging every day but seeing each other in person is... well there’s something different. Playful. Easy. Somehow neither of you seem worried about the looming proposal, and are just making up for lost time.

“Love, you’ve gotta take it up with the stylist, not me.” He shrugged, as if helpless, and turned, making his way to the door, knowing without even looking that you’ll be following behind him. He’s chipper, brimming with excitement and looking damn good, and once he gets to the elevator and pushes the button, he offers you his arm while he waits.

“Marry me.” He says it suddenly, watching the numbers of the elevator tick up to your floor. There’s no-one around, and the ring is still in his pocket.

“What?” With a frown, you step into the elevator, and press the button for the lobby, still tucked up against him.

“What if we just show up engaged?” He asks, hand in his pocket where he’s fiddling with the ring box. He’s not nervous, just contemplative.

“And deprive Swarovski of their moment?” You scoffed, and he tipped his head to look at you, eyebrows raised in exasperated amusement.

“I know you hate the ring, ‘too gaudy, too ostentatious by half’, isn’t that what you said?” He snickers after doing as half decent imitation of you. Giving him a shove, you duck your head to hide your embarrassed smile.

“It’s so ‘look at me! Look at me!’” You huff, and he can’t help but laugh at that. The sound of it, in person rather than over Skype, made you feel, for lack of a better phrase, like you were home. Not that there really was a better phrase, you just didn’t want to think about or admit how much you’d missed him.

“Sorry to say, dude, but there’s nothing more ‘look at me! Look at me!’ than a red carpet proposal.” And yeah, okay, maybe he had a point, but that was one night, you had to wear that ring until... they hadn’t told you the DVD release date, but you’re pretty sure it was some time in the New Year. When you bring this up, he just rolls his eyes. “You’re not the one getting down on one knee for a fake proposal; I’m gonna look like an idiot when this is all over.” 

“Well fine, if you’re so worried, I’ll propose.” Instead of dwelling on his words, you step away, holding your hand out expectantly. When he just stares at you, bewildered, you motion for him to hand the ring box over, and he finally cracks a grin, shaking his head.

“If you think I’m gonna be caught dead in that ring you’re wrong.” He spluttered, and you can’t help but laugh at that.

“Fine, I won’t take your first proposal away from you.” You hum with a smile, tucking yourself back against him. He goes very quiet. It takes you a few moments, but you look up at him, brow furrowed. He seems lost in his own thoughts. “It- Ben you’ve never been engaged before, I feel like I’d know if you had been.” Your words snap him out of his trance and he looks at you with wide, bright eyes, and an unconvincing smile.

“Yeah, no, I would have told you by now otherwise.” The silence that falls around you in not a comfortable one, and you’re glad when the elevator comes to a stop. “I got close once, though.” He admits, quietly. You don’t know how to respond to that; you hadn’t considered how much those words would hurt. You want to ask with who, but you already felt an unreasonable rush of jealousy at the thought of someone else stealing his heart enough for him to want to be with them forever. Unreasonable jealousy.

Filming for X-Men started a week ago and he’s only called you once; he’s on a film lot somewhere in Canada and his hair is curly and god he looks cute but the apartment feels so empty. He’s bright eyed and excited. He’s rambling about how busy he is, and he’s still wearing his makeup. The call lasts five minutes; the cast are going out for dinner. You tell him to have fun, but you’re heart’s not in it; he can sense it, and promises to call you tomorrow, before he hangs up.

He doesn’t call, part of you isn’t surprised.

“Marry me.” He asks again, voice low in your ear. The others in the car can’t hear him, but part of you is afraid they might. They don’t technically know it’s not a real relationship, though part of you thinks Gwilym has his doubts, not that he’d ever voice them.

“Not the time.” You shoot him a warning look, and he just slings an arm around you, leaning back in his seat. 

“You’ll regret not letting me be low-key about it.” He warns in return, giving you a blithe smile, and you narrow your eyes at him.

“Low-key about what?” Lucy asks, and you elbow Ben in the ribs. He keeps smiling, though his mischievousness slides to something more fond as he actually looks at you.

“About anything.” You say by way of explanation, and though she, along with the rest of the car, still look confused, they don’t push it. There’s reporters everywhere when you get out of the car, and you and Ben are the last ones out.

“Last chance before this becomes a spectacle.” He murmurs when he steps out after you, straightening the back of your dress just a little, and he sounds amused, but there’s something genuine in his voice, and you take a moment to pause, turning back to him. His hands land on your hips, his touch light, and his expression is so familiar it hurts, and you realise he is a little nervous; it’s a very public setting for what should be a very private matter. With cameras going off all around you, you pull him in for a kiss, and he relaxes somewhat, kissing you back with his grip tightening on your hips.

“We’re being paid to be a spectacle.” You remind him, and he nods, smiling softly, and the two of you make your way down the red purple carpet together. You have to stop every few feet to do interviews, and soon enough you had pulled ahead of Ben; he had a much larger part in the film that you did, it wasn’t surprising the reporters wanted to monopolise him. It still felt strange, to turn and not have him there. Sometimes you’d do interviews with the other boys, sometimes he’ll be there, and as the main photo area loomed, you could finally feel the butterflies in your stomach.

Soon.

Perhaps too soon.

“What do you mean you’re going to Egypt?” You snapped, wishing your internet connection was better so he could see you glaring clearly.

“I told you about it ages ago.” Ben sighs, clearly tired. It’s there in his eyes, how drained he is, how hard he’s been working, and your expression softens.

“That’s exciting,” you force yourself to take a breath, it was the first time you two had spoken that fortnight, neither of you needed this to be hostile. The days had started feeling so long when you don’t hear from him; all you want is a damn hug and he’s on the other side of the world. “What if I come visit you?”

“In Egypt?” He asks, eyebrows raised.

“In Egypt.” You confirm, a weak smile on your face, he doesn’t look thrilled by the process.

“Don’t bother.” He sighs, and the moment he sees your expression fall, he realises how his words had sounded, and he’s sitting up straight, panicked look on his face, spluttering his way through an apology. “I didn’t mean it like that, I’m just busy and it’s going to be hot and-”

“No, I get it.” Your dejected sigh was followed by a yawn, and you hovered over the end call button. “When you’re less tired I think we should talk.” You tell him, and you see the confusion, fear, and resignation pass over his face in quick succession.

He agrees quietly, and neither of you really say goodbye before hanging up.

He was tapping on your shoulder as you were halfway through talking to E! News, and you’ve never been more anxious and excited in your life, and never so thankful to not be at the main photo area on a red carpet. His timing was perfect.

“So sorry, could I borrow Y/N for a minute?” He smiles charmingly at the reporter, and his expression softens when he sees the relief in your eyes. 

Before he even starts, it feels off, feels wrong, feels like a performance for the cameras more than anything else. 

“Don’t get teary on me, I know how hard your makeup artists worked.” He begins, and you make sure the cameras catch your surprised confusion. He’s takes one of your hands in his, linking your finger together, and the other holds your face. There’s a moment that passes between you two, his expression softens as he looks in your eyes and it’s as if he’s looking past everything that had happened, the whole setup you’d found yourself in; he was seeing you. 

“This is probably the biggest night of my life,” he starts, taking a deep breath, “for more than one reason; you’re my best friend, you’ve been there for some of the highest points in my life, and some of the lowest. I know you, Y/N, I feel like I’ve known you my whole life, and I want to. I want you there by my side for the rest of it,” it sounds... so much more planned out than you’d expected, so much more heartfelt, and you’d be damned if there weren’t tears in your eyes. Despite the fact that this very private moment had a huge audience, which included a reporter muttering ‘holy shit, is this what I think it is?’, you could only see him. Damn if it didn’t feel real.

“I love you; I’ve loved your since-” his voice catches in his throat, and you see a hint of pain flash across his face before he’s smiling again, “since I first saw you in that damn wig they put you in,” it sounds like an addendum, like he doesn’t really mean it, or like it’s not the whole truth, but it’s enough to make you laugh, and when you look down to hide your embarrassed smile, your tears fall from your eyes, “since you agreed to all of this,” he gestures to himself with a self-deprecating grin, though his double meaning is not lost on you, though his expression turns serious after a moment, “since I first kissed you on set, though that feels like a long time ago.” Your breath catches in your throat, and he sounds like he hadn’t mean to say that last part, his voice too raw, his heart too honest for it to be a truly fake statement. You can do little more than whisper his name in reverence. Gently, so gently, he lifts your head, his thumb wiping the tear track from your cheek. 

“Marry me?” It’s a question this time, and when you look at him with confusion, disbelief written on your face at the way he chose to word it, he laughs softly, sinking to one knee and pulling out the ring box, and revealing the single most frivolous ring you’d ever had the displeasure of seeing. “Will you marry me?” He corrects softly.

The crowd behind you is going absolutely mad behind you, and cameras are going off at an almost blinding rate, but his eyes don’t leave yours. Nodding, you can’t even form words, so caught up in the moment, and he stands, pulling you into a kiss. The flash of cameras surround you like a sea of stars and Ben’s the only thing keeping you on solid ground. His grip is tight enough that he almost lifts you off the ground, and you’re on your tiptoes with his arms around you before his grip loosens, his hands sliding down the small of your back, and for the first time since this whole fake relationship began, he doesn’t hesitate before he deepens the kiss. He tastes like mint and you’re so glad you’re wearing that twenty-four hour lipstick or you know you’d be a mess, and when you pull back, you’re both out of breath, looking at each other with a something akin to awe in your eyes.

You’re pretty sure, in this moment, you love him; nothing fake about it. And you can see it in his eyes that he loves you too. This is dangerous territory for you both.

Stepping back, he takes your hands again.

“I told you not to cry, love.” He laughs gently, voice so soft as you dab at your eyes with your right hand, watching as he slides the ring onto the ring finger of your left hand.

“What can I say, you have a way with words; how long were you working on that speech.” You sniffle, grinning brightly as you examine the ring, still holding his hand. After a beat too long of silence, you look up to see him smiling softly at you.

“A while.” He admits, and something about the way he says it makes your chest ache. The moment passes and he looks down at your joined hands. “That’s fucking hideous.” He whispers, shaking his head at the sight of the ring, and you giggle, preferring to throw your arms around him, kissing him again.

The two of you are the last two to arrive at the formal photo area, with the logo backdrop, and Joe’s grin is confused where he greets you both at the edge of where everyone was in a line getting a group shot.

“What was all the commotion over there?” He asked quietly, and Ben stepped into position easily, slipping an arm around Joe’s shoulders and pulling you in. You were still beaming, you couldn’t help yourself.

“We got engaged.” Ben murmurs to Joe, careful not to draw attention to them, which was immediately counteracted by Joe’s loud ‘What the fuck?!’ “Calm down, man, we didn’t want to take all the focus off of the premiere, you know?” 

As soon as the big group shot was taken, you stepped off to the side as the four boys had their photos taken, and you could see Joe murmuring to the others, while Ben just smiled for the cameras and tried not to blush.

Photos were taken with Brian and Roger, of Rami and Lucy, and even some of you and Ben, and when you posed, you both had an arm around each other, and you leaned into him, resting your hand on his chest with your ring on clear display.

There’s congratulations all around as you’re heading into the theatre, but the biggest shock of the night comes in the form of Roger Taylor wrapping you up in a hug while you’re still glowing with pride.

“Before we go in, I want you to know you did an incredible job, dear. You’re a stunning performer and I never had any doubts about you.” As he says it, you can feel Ben give your hand a gentle squeeze. You’re pretty sure you’ve got shock written all over your face. “I’m very proud of you both.” He claps Ben on the shoulder, and Ben thanks him quietly. It looks as though he’s about to head in, but he turns back. “Be good to her, you hear?” He says to Ben sternly, but there’s a glimmer of fondness in his eyes, and Ben rolls his eyes good-naturedly. He’s still holding your hand.

“What was that?” You breathed as soon as Roger had left; you feel like you’ve been doused in cold water, though you can’t help but smile.

“Well I think he definitely approves of you playing Amanda.” Ben moves to wrap an arm around you as the two of you head into the theatre, searching for your seats. “And I think... I think he gave us his blessing?” That sounds more confused than anything else, and you don’t know how to respond one way or the other, apart from softly laughing as you sit down next to Lucy. Part of you, the largest part that had stayed sane and not drunk on this fake engagement, is pretty sure Roger’s going to be the hardest to break it to, when everything’s over; part of you worries that without Ben, you’ll lose his approval, which you didn’t realise you’d been craving until you’d received it. There’s an anxiety that builds in your chest as the lights go down, but Ben’s hand is in yours and you lean your head on his shoulder, and you can ignore that little worry for now.

the rat pack: @hotspacedeacon @strangeandwonderfulconcepts @itssaje @d-r-e-a-m-catchme @callumidiot @rockandrollandshit @bohorap @pietrorunsforme @sweetfierceimagines @itsjackothy @mhftrs @sherlockiantheatrenerd @softbenhardy @multifandomgirlrandomstuff @virtualsheepeat @smile-nine @i-padfootblack-things @deaconsroger @spookyfrances @holyurlbatman @your-idiotic-excellency @cosmicsskies @chlobo6 @screaminggalileochickenwrites

(crossed out means it wouldn’t tag; i’ll try again for the next part, lemme know if you wanna be tagged xx)

[traya-sutton]

February Blues

I love this concept but like, i think i executed it poorly and wrote choppily and could have added more scenes but im posting it so... yeah. 

Happy hannukah Sam! 

Gift for: @timdrakeothy 

Prompt:  Maybe something with Kon

ao3    masterlist

Kon sneezed. A big, earth-quaking, breaking the sound barrier, Dad-like sneeze. So loud it startled Greta out of the air and actually made Bart look up from his video game.

“Was that a gunshot?” Cassie asked as she walked into the room.

Kon scowled at all of his friends. “It wasn’t that loud.”

“You sound like my Dad, mon.” Anita smirked. “You’d fit right in with him and Uncle Ish.”

“Are you getting sick?” Bart asked curiously.

“Don’t be stupid. I can’t get sick. I’m Kryptonian.”

“Superman doesn’t get sick?” Greta asked.

Everyone turned to Robin who was flipping through a magazine. “What?”

“Well, you know Superman best.”

“You’re his clone.”

“Yeah, and I see him at most once a month. And then it’s just ‘Oh hey, Kon, why don’t you take Parasite over to Iron Gates for me?’ or ‘Hey do you mind helping me out with the Terror Twins? I need to get this deadline done by tonight.’”

Everyone turned back to Robin. Robin just shrugged. “I’ve never seen him get sick.”

“Then clearly, I’m not getting sick either.” Kon snapped. Then he sneezed again. Another giant, sea-parting sneeze.

“You’re sick.” His teammates chorused. Even Slobo, who was so rarely willing to participate in other people’s lives.

Kon stuck his tongue out. “’M not sick!” He grumbled then sat next to Bart on the couch.

Bart scooted away from him. Kon gave his friend a look. “What? I don’t want to get sick!”

“I’m not- Oh whatever.” Kon grumbled. Then, he sneezed a third time. This was going to get annoying.

“Where’s Kon? Wendy’s on. He never misses it.” Cissie said with a frown.

“You in this ep?” Cassie asked, taking the popcorn from Slobo despite his arguments. “It’s for everyone.”

Slobo chewed loudly with his mouth open in her direction.

“Yeah. It’s the one where Skye finds out-”

“Shh! Spoilers!” Greta hissed, settling down next to Bart.

“This is ridiculous, he’s going to miss the episode.” Robin grumbled. “I’m going to get him.”

Robin marched through the hotel until he reached Kon’s room. A SuperboyTM brand S sticker pasted onto the door loudly declared it to be Kon’s domain. And right under was a sticker of Wendy herself.

Robin knocked on the door. “C’mon man, show’s starting in a little.”

No answer.

Robin didn’t want to just walk in. Kon hadn’t come out of his room all day, and usually that meant that he wasn’t to be… disturbed. But this was Wendy, and Cissie was right: Kon never missed an episode. So he knocked again. “Dude, open up.”

Still, all that came to him was silence.

Robin gripped the handle, and slowly, but surely, swung open the door.

At first, Robin thought that Kon himself must not be in the room, and then he saw the bundle of blankets on Kon’s bed rise and fall in a breathing pattern and loud snoring. Robin rolled his eyes behind his mask and walked over to the bed. “Kon, get up.”

What was Kon doing sleeping this late? Usually he was up with the-well, with the sun.

Oh. Oh no way. It couldn’t be. Uh-uh.

Robin narrowed his eyes.

He’d hold off judgment on his screw-ball theory. At least, until it gained more proof.

Robin stalked over to the bed and whipped off the covers. Kon was curled up on the bed in Wonder Woman footie-pajamas. His arms wrapped tightly around a Wendy body pillow.

Robin pushed Kon.

“Kon… Wake up...”

Kon made a nonsense noise and blinked his eyes open blearily. The whites of his irises were bloodshot, his tanned face was bright red, and his nose was running. Robin could hear his congested breathing from four feet away.

“You don’t look so good.”

Kon grumbled something that sounded distinctly like a swearword.

“Shut up and sit still.” Robin responded. He sat down and leaned down to Kon’s forehead to kiss it to check for a fever.

Yep. He’s burning up.

When he pulled back, Kon’s gummed up eyes were as wide as they could go. “What’d you do tha’ for?” He slurred.

“It’s how you check for a fever.” Robin told him. “And you’ve got one.”

“’M not sick.” He grumbled. Kon sat up and then grabbed at his head with one hand and at Robin’s shoulder with the other. “Woah. Is the world supposed to be spinning like that?”

“Okay.” Robin said, gently ushering Kon back into a horizontal position on the bed. “You’re going back to bed and I’m going to get you some cold medicine.”

“But I’m a Kryptonian. We don’t get human sicknesses.” Kon protested weakly.

“What? Are ours not good enough for you?” Robin joked.

Kon was too sick to respond in any way other than giving Robin a particular bird. Robin returned it with a sickly sweet smile.

Robin closed the door behind him but as he could hear from where he was, the all-powerful, invincible Superboy has fallen back asleep.

“Take your medicine, Kon.” Anita said, shoving the liquid cough syrup in his face.

“No! It’s gross! And I don’t need it!” Kon grumbled, but his argument was almost incomprehensible because he was so congested. “Because-”

“You’re not sick.” His teammates chorused.

“Honestly, I never thought I’d miss you saying ‘tactile telekinesis’.” Ray said.

“Kon.” Cissie snapped. “Take your medicine or I’ll shove it down your throat.”

“Make me.”

Cissie began to roll up her sleeves. “Cissie, no-!” Greta cried.

Traya rolled her eyes. She climbed up onto the bed next to Kon. He was swaddled in all the blankets they could find in attempt to sweat out the fever, but so far Kon was still sick. She took the medicine from Anita and held out a measured spoonful of it.

“Come on, please Kon.” Traya asked, turning up the puppy dog eyes.

Kon scowled. “Fine.”

“Yes! Everybody pay up!” Slobo crowed.

Kon turned to tell him off but was interrupted as Traya shoved the medicine into his mouth. Kon was about to say something mean and then remembered how young Traya was and stopped himself.

“It tastes icky.” Kon complained once Traya had removed the spoon. But he did definitely sound better already.

Traya read the label. “It says another spoonful in two hours. Has Robin come back with that soup, yet?”

Cassie shook her head. “He said he’d be back in half an hour or so.”

“’M not sick. Don’t want soup.” Kon grumbled, sliding further under the thick covers of his bed. He then hacked out a wet cough, expertly coughed it into a wastebasket next to him.

“Riight.” Cassie said, shaking her head.

Kon yawned. “Sleepy...”

“Come on guys. He’ll only heal if he gets his rest.” Greta said quietly. The team shuffled out, and Ray, the last out the door, turned off the light, letting Kon sink into sleep in the dark.

Kon had been sick for a week. Even the best chicken soup in the world, or so Robin claimed, had done nothing but bring down his fever. Bart assumed he was right because Robin usually was about these things. Lots of research would go into his claims Bart had learned. Still, Kon hacked and coughed like someone who’d been smoking for thirty years. Still, Kon blew his nose and sneezed with sounds like earthquakes and gunshots. Kon couldn’t even leave on missions, he was so weak and tired. But hey, at least his fever had gone down.

And his fever wasn’t the only thing that was down, Kon was too. He moped all the time. Kicking his feet, padding around the hotel in his Wonder Woman pajamas sad and pouting.

It was starting to get on Greta’s nerves. Greta’s.

“It’s all the time! Just moaning and groaning and hacking and coughing! Doesn’t he have anywhere else he can go?” She whined to Robin.

Oh. Oh. Robin’s eyes widened behind his mask. Could it be… It had been a while since he’d thought of his theory behind Kon’s sickness. Could it be…?

No...

“Soo… Kon. How you doing?”

Kon slithered up and poked his head out from under his quilt. He frowned and stuck a singular hand out into the cold air, grabbed a handful of tissues, slithered back under the blankets, blew his nose, and then tossed it out and into the garbage can next to the bed.

Robin whistled appreciatively. “Two points.”

Kon grumbled something that Robin couldn’t understand.

“Kon. Gonna come out and talk to me?”

“No.”

“Well then, I guess I’ll talk to you.” Robin turned and sat on the side of Kon’s bed. He could hear Kon behind him breathing. “I think I know why you’re so sick lately and such a grouch.”

Kon’s head shot out from under his blanket so fast Robin almost fell off of the bed. “Really? So I’m not like, a broken Kryptonian?”

“Just answer my questions.”

“Okay.”

“When was the last time you left the hotel? Like, went out to do something that wasn’t a mission.”

Kon opened his mouth and then closed it. “Does coming here from Cadmus count?”

“No.”

“When I went out to the movies.”

“When did you go out?”

“At like, six at night. In like, Novemeber”

Robin frowned. Six at night in the winter… that was already dark.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

“When was the last time you were in Hawaii?”

Kon scratched at his stubble thoughtfully. “October? They’ve got a new hero now, don’t want me.”

“And Cadmus? That’s where you live now, right?”

“I mean yeah, but all I do is stay inside and drink coffee and marathon Wendy VCR collections-”

“You never go outside when you stay there?”

Kon shrugged. “No reason. Don’t have Tana… or Roxy… now it’s just me and Sterling sometimes. And you guys. Nothing else really in my life.”

That’s what Robin had feared. “I think you’ve got severe seasonal depression.”

Kon frowned, squinting at Robin. “What?”

“You’re a Kryptonian, Kon. You guys are like sunshine batteries. Us humans sometimes get seasonal depression in the winter. By not seeing the sun for a while, we get cranky and sad and exhausted—some people even get sick sometimes. For you it must be a hundred times worse. Your battery has run out, making you susceptible to colds and being, well, a bitch.”

“Robin!” Kon gasped in fake offense.

“Kon, you’ve started to irritate even Greta. That’s what I would call ‘being a bitch.’”

“So what’s your prescription, Doc? A tan?”

“Yeah, actually. Kon-El, I’m sentencing you to a week on a sunny beach. I’m sure you’ll have a horrible time.” Robin gave him a small smirk.

“Fine. But you gotta tell Cassie why I’m leaving, she’ll never believe me.” Kon said, sliding back under the covers.

“Deal. But only if I can come along.”

“Deal.”

[synnematic]

DAY 3: Letters to A Loved One

for @saboace-week

TWO PARTS:

Letters to No One ( written by me ) multiple chapters

a03: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13955610/chapters/32125773

A Couple Years Too Late ( written by @reiji--san ) single chapter

a03: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13955889

Summary: 

A collection of letters written over time with no set destination, but always a person in mind.

Letters to No One

Dear Sabo,

This is stupid.

Makinos got this idea in her head that I’m sad. Which I’m not. Im not sad anymore at all. I’m not. Its just hard. Youre not  When you died FUCK. Whatever. fuck spelling and whatnot too. not like you can read this anymore anyway. look. this is suposed to help i guess. a coping mechi mechen method. i write this letter and she stops naging at me. whatever it takes to make them all stop loking at me like im going to snap any second or try to run off again. not like i would anyway.

i know youre not coming back.

you’re dead

you left and you died and theres nothin i can do to turn back time or bring you back or get revenge becus the people that killed you are already GONE and i didnt even know until it was already to late

but im fine

im fine

im not fine

luffy is well hes been better but hes always been a crybaby so he’ll get better. im supposed to be strong now, stronger but i dont really  i don’t know how to handle the emotions and whatnot. not like you did. you always seemed to just GET it always sayin the right things, calmin me us him down. i can’t do that but im trying. im getting better i think.

we’ll get thrugh it

fuck this is stupid

what’s the point in writing a letter youl never read? or writing at all damn it

you taght me how to do this bulshit but i never thought id have to use it like this

fuck im not supposed to cry. messed up the ink now. not that it matters but still i wanted to fuck i dont know what i wanted anymore

sorry

im sorry sabo. i should have been i dunno. something. its different without you. too quiet and theres this pain in my chest all the time. like i’m the one that got shot. don’t get it but i hate it and it hurts and i just i wish you were here. i really wish you were here

i miss you

    ace

sabo,

hey i uhh found the other letter. never ended up giving it to makino but i think she knew i wrote it at least. luffy did but i don’t know what he did with his. i kept mine in the tree house, under one of the loose boards. its a little water damaged but i don’t think you really care huh?

this is still weird, talking to you like this. even though its not really a talk if its only one way. just like talking to an empty room but not even talking out loud

sorry

its been two years now to the day. maybe thats why i ended up finding the old letter in the first place. havent really been to the tree house much since then anyway because

well you know

went to the cliff tho. the one we used to sit at? i went there first yknow when i got youre letter. took me a while since im still not great at reading. getting better tho. it was quiet. always kinda is but really quiet this time with just a little wind. I think it would be a good day to go sailing. was it like this when you left too? dogma said it was a nice day but i dont really remember it that way.

i dont know why i do this to myself. same as last time i always get   i dunno. my chest still hurts. theres a doctor in foosha i went to once a while ago. thought maybe something was wrong with me. he said it was heart break. youd think this is something id get over but i guess not

youre still dead and im still breaking

i dont know when its gonna stop

if it does at all

    ace

sabo,

Is it nice where you are?

Overheard some people talking about it today. Talking about death and what comes after. It sounds nice. Heaven. If thats where you went. I think it should be. Where you went, that is, but nice too I guess.

It sounds warm.

I wonder sometimes if my mom went there too. Still dont really know much about her but she sounded nice. Maybe youve met? Is my d   Nah it doesn’t matter. I hope its nice there. I dont really beleive in that kinda stuff normaly, still kinda dont but i hope its true and youre happy there. Happier than you were here

I know its probably a stupid thing to ask but do you think ill ever be able to join you there?

The waves were choppy at the cliff today. Almost angry. Theres a storm comin but i think ill still go there later. Maybe

Ive been thinking about death a lot lately

    ace

Hey

I didn’t jump, obviously, since i’m writing to you now. Again. Sorry for the silence. Sometimes I just— I dont know. Everything rushes to my head all at once. It helps, occasionally, but then there are the times where my head fills with one singular drive or emotion and thats it, that’s all I can focus on. It used to be anger. So much anger. That was easier than the sadness though. Or the guilt.

There’s things I haven’t really told you. A lot of things actually. I was trying to be strong I guess. Still am. But Makino was right about one thing. It does help, these letters. I like to think sometimes that you just know. That you can read them or that my words somehow magically transfer to you. Wherever you are. But I know that kinda stuff doesnt happen. Not really. So this is more me talking to myself then. That I can do.

So for starters I guess, I had a dream about you last night. I used to have dreams about you a lot. Nightmares too. It’s been a while though, at least a few months since the last one. Normally the dreams are the same, extended memories or something small but usually just the two of us, sometimes luffy. Last night you turned to me in my dream but your face wasn’t right. And I think that’s more terrifying than any of the nightmares i’ve had.

I’m starting to forget what you look like, what you sound like.

It’s been six years now. Longer than the time I knew you. All I have left is the flag Luffy and I found in the wreckage of your ship. I tried to look for more but most of it’s been buried now and i’m afraid. I don’t know what Id do if I found your bones there.

We never took any pictures, never saved enough for something as meaningless as a camera and i regret that now.

I think i’m going to get a tattoo soon. Before I leave the island. Even if I forget what you look like and the sound of your laugh I still want to take you with me somehow. So you can sail the seas instead of — well.

I just don’t want to forget you sabo

    Ace

Me again,

I got that tattoo that I said I would in my last letter. It’s been a while now but it still itches every once in a while. Hah, you should have seen the guys face when I explained what I wanted done. People still keep mistaking it for a mispelling. As if I didn’t know how to spell my own name.

Anyway, got that done a little before I left Dawn and a lot has happened since then. I have my own crew! And a devil fruit too, though man was that a surprise. Still don’t really have the best of control over it and I set random things on fire sometimes but I think I’m starting to get the hang of it. I’m a CAPTAIN now! Got my own flag and everything. We’re the Spade pirates. Isn’t that cool? The Ace of Spades is supposed to be a card that symbolizes death but I don’t think we’re so bad. Hell, we’ve actually helped a lot of people so I hope you’re proud of me. Still wish you could have been my navigator but we probably would have ended up fighting all the time huh? Can’t have two people that want to be captain in the same crew obviously. You would have loved this life though.

I know you’re probably in a pretty nice place yourself right now but the open sea on a clear day is the most beautiful thing. And the STARS Sabo — when the sun sets down low you don’t even need the moon to see, the stars are so bright. Brighter than they ever were on the island.

You’re up there somewhere huh?

Is the view better than the one I’ve got right now?

Seven years is a long time my friend. I’ve grown a lot since I last saw you. Do you grow at all where you are? I bet I’d still be taller than you.

Wish you were here

    Ace

Hey Sabo

I think I need some advice right about now.

It’s been 103 days since Whitebeard defeated me and took me onto his flagship. Yeah, uhh, probably should have updated you on that sooner, huh? My bad. My crew was defeated not that long after I was too. We’re all here now but we’re fine I promise. Actually, that’s kinda my problem.

I want No, I wanted to kill him at first. Whitebeard. All this time hearing about my dad and all he accomplished in life, all he did. So many people that respected or hated him and I just — I don’t know. I heard that Whitebeard was around and I figured if I could just be the one to take him down, the one to kill him even when Roger couldn’t then maybe — Maybe I could prove myself. Prove that I’m stronger than him, than Roger. That I’m better somehow. Or at least different.

Not that that really worked out.

Could have killed me but instead he took me here and made this stupid speech about family and trust and wanting me to be his son or something and I told him no. Obviously. I don’t need a family after all, or at least more family. I’ve got Luffy. And you. Plus I wasn’t  I’m not about to just throw away my own ambitions yknow? I promised you, I PROMISED you that we’d go out to sea and live free lives, the life of pirates. I don’t want that to end, not when I wanted to take you with me on that journey, the life you never got to live.

So I kept fighting and fighting and fighting over and over again, new tactics, new plans. But Sabo I’m so tired now.

So tired.

And they’re really starting to grow on me. As much as I’ve tried to avoid the crew or even piss them off. There’s this one guy, Thatch, in particular that is just too god damn nice ALL THE TIME. And Marco too though he’s kinda stuck up. And they keep talking about family. About belonging and — I don’t know.

Is it bad that a part of me wants that? To have an actual home? To belong?

They don’t know though, not yet at least. They don’t know who I am and maybe — FUCK I don’t know. I don’t know how they’d react to knowing who I am, what I am. I’m scared to find out. But is it worth trying?

Would you hate me if I gave up a part of my freedom for something more?

I feel like I’m betraying you somehow. But at the same time I think you would want me to be happy too.

I don’t know yet for sure but maybe, maybe this is my one chance.

    Ace

He KILLED him.

One of the few genuine friends I have and he’s dead. All because of GREED. Why does this keep happening. Every time I grow attached and start to feel safe something like this happens again just to prove how messed up the world really is. Over a stupid FRUIT and now thatch is dead and— fuck. A member of my own division too. My responsibility and I failed again. Just like I failed you.

I can’t protect ANYONE. Even after all the training and the fighting, the missions and responsibilities. But when it actually matters I’m not even there and my friend gets stabbed in the back and left to DIE.

The blood’s on my hands. I should have known. Should have picked up on the signs and done something — anything . But I was too late. Again. And now he’s gone and that TRAITOR is who knows where.

Well not this time.

This isn’t going to be like what happened with you, with an enemy I never knew and had no chance of finding.

This time I’m going to find him and I’m going to make him pay.

I don’t care if I’m cursed. Maybe I brought this on them in the first place, just by being here. But I’m not going to just sit by and let this happen again. I couldn’t take revenge for you but I can for Thatch.

I can at least do that.

Sabo,

I’m getting close.

I know you probably don’t care, but writing to you like this is the only thing that seems to be keeping me sane recently. It’s like I’m chasing a damn shadow. Every time I get close or feel like I’ve finally caught up the bastard does something to out maneuver me or fuck me up somehow. It’s been months now but this time I think I’ve finally cornered him. Teach is apparently on his way to Water 7 now and there’s a little island, Banaro, that he’s sure to stop at. If I can get there before he leaves then I can finally avenge Thatch. I can make up for my own failures and make sure that he never hurts anyone from my family again.

I dunno how it’s going to go yet but he hasn’t had much time to master his new fruit yet so I should have the upper hand regardless of whatever that rat has planned.

Short letter this time, I know, but I don’t really have a lotta time to waste right now. I’ll be reaching port soon and from there — well, who knows. Guess I’ll probably update you again afterwards though, or whenever I get back to the rest of my crew.

It’s nice to know that I’ll finally be able to avenge someone important to me. Risky, but I know you’d do the same.

    Ace

Sabo,

I’m being executed today.

Guess that’s a solid way to start off my last  this letter, huh? Yeah, nice going Ace, well done. I really know how to keep things upbeat in these damn things don’t I?

Damn it.

Teach, well he, FUCK— sorry.

I don’t want to do this.

He beat me. I don’t have any excuses, nothin I can say to make up for what happened or explain it in anyway. He just did. Just another reason to hate him I guess, but if the alternative was joining him then this is better. Much better, Still, uhh, it hasn’t exactly been fun. Impel Down was just about as bad as I expected, maybe worse even. There’s— you know what, it doesn’t matter what it was like. You don’t need to know that.

Maybe I’m just stalling now.

They don’t really give a lot of time for these things apparently, even when they’re last requests. Bullshit, but I think they just don’t want me to be late for my closeup. Gol D. Roger’s only son means I’m about to broadcasted all around the world. Thanks dad. Great perks. Though, I expected as much. Just proving what I always feared.

ANYWAY, at least I’ve had a lot of time to think lately. Don’t actually know how long I was locked up in there but the silence does things to people, to me. I didn’t dream much while I was there, kinda hard to sleep, but I thought about you a lot. Actually, been thinkin about you a lot for a while but this was different I suppose.

The guys down there like to talk a lot. It helps pass the time but most of them are kinda shit people so I didn’t reply much. Still listened though.

Y’know, in twenty years, I’ve done a lot, seen a lot, experienced a lot— more than most my age, but there’s a lot I didn’t get to do too, didn’t learn about.

I never really thought about love until recently. It’s not really a pirate thing, huh? High seas and all that nonsense but life moves fast and a lot happens all at once. Not a lotta time to sit around and, I dunno, dream?

Whatever. Well, the guys down there talked a surprising amount about it, like it’s something magical, better than any other treasure, and it got me thinkin. I’ve never really cared about that stuff, haven’t since I was a kid. But I guess that’s because I figured no one would be able to stand me for long, no one would actually accept me for who I am. But, that’s not really right, huh? Since you did that right from the start. I’ve known that for ages but guess it didn’t really sink in until now.

Call it childish innocence or whatever, but you accepted me even back then when I was broody and angry and maybe a little murderous. You knew who I was, my history, my dreams, and you didn’t laugh or run away or anything like that. You smiled that stupid smile of yours and just accepted me, all of me.

Here I am about to— about to leave , and it’s because there’s a whole fucking WORLD out there that can’t seem to do the same thing a five year old noble brat could — no offense.

And y’know, if that’s the closest I get to love then I’ll take it. Hell, maybe I even love you too. Actually, no. I don’t think maybe is even a factor anymore. Seems stupid now that I think about it, but I probably loved you even back then. From the very start. Little late to be figuring that out now, huh?

They’re rushing me. Marine bastards.

I know I’ve talked a lot about, well, death. So many years spent just thinkin that I deserve it, just because of who my father was, but now that there’s this whole messed up world agreeing with me, is it wrong that I’m— fuck — I’m scared Sabo. Absolutely terrified and there’s nothing I can do about it. All these years I’ve practically asked for it and now—

I know it’s late to start saying this, way too late now, but Sabo, I want to live.

I want to do so much with my life than this. I want to explore more, see more. I want— I want what I can’t have anymore. And it sucks. It really fucking sucks, but this is how it ends for me. Goin out the same way my shitty pops did. Apparently. What a sick joke this all is.

But I'm running out of time now. Guess I’ve spent what time I had. Garp knows what to do with this after... after everything. I know it won't matter in the end, but I think all of these should be together, y'know? Just in case. It's nice to know that he still considered me family, even now. He's the only one here that seems to actually care. You would think these assholes would cut me a little slack now that we’re here but I just… I don’t think it matters to them that I'm about to die. Not even a little bit. Shouldn’t hurt, but it does. I’m still human after all. Just like them. But maybe they don’t see it like that.

I’d pray for miracles but I don’t think there are any gods out there to help me. I still don’t think there are any gods at all. Doesn't really bode well for what comes after, huh?

Luffy’s going to be mad at me. I promised him that I wouldn’t die.

Maybe we can both watch over him though? You’ll probably be mad at me for saying this but a part of me is a little relieved. At the end. At least I’ll get to see you again, right? I don’t even know if we’ll both end up in the same place, but I can hope. I really, really hope. It’s selfish but I’m glad that I won’t be alone. I don’t want to be alone anymore.

    Ace

A Couple Years Too Late

Dear Ace,

         It’s been a while, has it not? I’m sorry, but man do I have some things to tell you.

If only I could tell you.

I got your letters. Well, more like I found your letters. Stored away in a box at our old tree house. Can you believe it’s still intact after all these years? Pretty good for a couple of kids huh?

.

.

.

Dear Ace,

         I’m sorry. I can’t believe I stopped so soon. Not even a couple sentences in and I had to leave the room. What an idiot. Let me start again.

Hey Ace. How are you? Are you eating well? Getting enough rest? You have to make sure to take care of yourself, I’m not there to nag at you anymore now. You’re all grown up. I sound like such a parent I’m sorry. I just care and want the best for you. I got your letters. I’m sorry the delivery took so long. Way too long. It’s a shame this is how we reunite. I hoped I could have seen you at least once before

.

.

.

Dear Ace,

          I did it again. At this rate I’ll clean out Headquarter’s paper supply. I’m sorry. It’s just, every time I write, my vision gets blurry and I can’t see anymore. How can I properly reply to you if I don’t know what I’m writing? Would be embarrassing if I had a bunch of spelling mistakes especially since I’m the one that taught you how to write.

Speaking of which, you’ve gotten a lot better! I can see from the different letters you wrote. It makes me happy to see that, shows you practiced a lot. Did you help Luffy too? I only taught him so much before I left, I’m sorry. It must’ve been hard on you.

It must have been really hard on you…

I’m sorry. I keep speaking nonsense. I just don’t know where to begin, what to say. This is the third time I’m trying to write to you and you are right—it’s pretty stupid. Maybe a part of me is just hoping that the same thing will happen with you. That you’ll get this letter in 10 years or so and then maybe we could meet again, somewhere in this wide ocean.

Or maybe somewhere in skies up above.

I can dream, right?

.

.

.

Hey Ace, Is this how you felt? When you wrote every one of those letters, did it hurt this badly each time? I’m sorry, I should’ve come to get them sooner. Maybe I wouldn’t even be writing this right now if I had. Maybe you wouldn’t have had to write them if I had come sooner. I’m sorry. I really made it hard for you huh? I’m happy you wrote though. It feels as if you are here, talking to me. Telling me of your struggles, your adventures. All the good and the bad—even though I already knew some of this. I’m happy for you Ace. Truly I am. I wish I could’ve been there when you sailed out to sea, we could’ve sailed out together. Met your first crew, that I wouldn’t be a part of because I would have had a better crew.

When you found a family .

I’ll have to visit them one day, and properly thank them. It’s the least I can do.

Hey, remember the declarations we made back at the cliff? I still haven’t done mine, been busy, it’ll probably take a while. Still, you did yours did you not? You let the whole world know who you were. Fire Fist Ace, that’s a pretty cool name they gave you. You were always the better big brother so I’m not surprised you beat me to it. Mine’s a little bit harder so cut me some slack okay?

Weird how the past couple days I struggled to write and now it’s all just pouring out, I’m sorry it’s such a mess of words. I still don’t know what to really say. My vision is still blurry but I’m fighting through it. I’m sorry the paper may be a little wet.

…I’m sorry.

Twelve times. Twelve times I’ve said those two words but nothing changes, nothing will change. I’ve come to that conclusion. Took me a while.

A long while.

It’s been two years or so since you left. Every night I have the same dream. And every time you’re always out of reach. Every single night I wonder “Would things have been different if I was there?” People kept telling me there’s no right answer to that.

Would you be alive right now if I had remembered just a little sooner?

Ah that’s right. I haven’t told you. I didn’t think it would matter if you knew since it wouldn't change anything, I’m sorry. Thirteen. I lost my memories. Pretty shitty thing for me to do right? I know. While you were suffering I didn’t even know you were a part of my life. While you died, I paid no mind because I didn’t know. You must be really mad at me. For forgetting so easily.

And then life rewards me my memories when I see your death mention in the papers. That’s pretty fucked up huh? Maybe I should’ve looked at the papers sooner.

Hey Ace, do you know now? Is it pretty up there where you are? Have you met your mom? She’s up there too right? I’m sure she is. If there is a Heaven I know you’re there. Regardless of what people say, what they may have called you, Heaven is where you belong. The image of an angel truly suits you, you know. Maybe you always were an angel, and god sent you down to me. Can I let you in on a little secret? Thanks to you, I was able to become who I am today. If I hadn’t met you that day you pulled me out of the Grey Terminal I probably would’ve been back in that castle, suffering. You changed my life for the better and I’m eternally grateful. And seeing as you brought it up first; I love you too. Always did. Even during my amnesiac years, I’m sure that part of me was still there. Loving you even if it didn’t remember you. Sad that we’re sharing such things now huh? It’s almost laughable. Yet not even a smile comes to my face right now… What am I saying? I’m sorry, I ramble a lot.

Fourteen.

It’s been almost two years since then Ace and the pain just gets worse. Does it ever go away? Did it ever go away for you? It’s like a nail is constantly being hammered into my chest. Some days they slam the hammer harder than others. Some days they slam it so hard I can barely breathe… I can cover it up better than before at least, can function in my daily life. Oh yeah—I’m a Revolutionary, have I told you that yet?

Do you think if this world was different, you would still be alive? I wonder.

Are these letters really supposed to help? The only thing it’s helping with is making the pain worse. Will you even read this? Maybe if I send it flying high enough, will it reach you? Or maybe you're watching me right now as I write it? If you are then well…

I miss you.

God I miss you so much.

It’s not fair. Why did you have to be the one to leave? My first friend, best friend, my partner, my brother, my… There are so many things I want to share with you. I want to see you again. See you smiling, laughing, angry—I just want to see you. Even if it’s just one more time.

Would it have been better if I had died that day? Would I be with you right now? I’ve had that thought so many times. And maybe I tried to join you…so many times.

But I’ve thought a lot. Luffy is still out there is he not? I can’t just leave our little brother like that. I’ve already fucked up enough as it is. Even if he hates me, pushes me away and never wants to see me again—I’ll protect him. I asked you to take care of him before, now it’s my turn.

By the way, I’ll be visiting you soon—no, not like that. Sadly. I’ve avoided doing it for a while because I didn’t want to believe it but I think it’s time now.

I’m sorry…that I can’t be with you, not yet. But you aren’t alone. I may not be next to you, but I’m always thinking of you. Every waking moment and every time I close my eyes. You’re there.

Fifteen.

We’ll meet again soon. There are just some things I have to take care of here first. It may sound a little selfish but please wait for me okay? Just a little longer.

         Sabo

[angelpparker]

rain ⤳ p.p

rain ⤳ p.p

word count: 1816

a/n: i dedicate this to tom holland’s lip sync battle because its the most important thing in my life as of forever and fvck im obsessed. also legit how the hell do you write kissing scenes im shook. i’m very happy to say that this is one of the only works i’m truly proud of, it’s just near the end that it begins to get sloppy :)) (currently experimenting with second person perspective.)

quote: “PETER BENJAMIN PARKER! GET YOUR ASS BACK HERE!”

MASTERLIST

You’re waiting. Your pillow-stacked bed was untouched and perfectly made, as it was the night before, and the night before that. It had been for quite some time, having to be the longest you’ve ever gone without sinking into your mattress. Sure, you were tired, but your mind was wide awake. You were convinced that all of New York City, as the city that never sleeps, had moved into your brain–or perhaps that was just the sleep deprivation getting to you.

The rain outside was beating to a gentle rhythm against your unlocked window, almost turning into a lullaby to lure you into a well-needed sleep. You forced to open your drooping eyelids, ignoring the noticeable black bags beneath your eyes as you glanced at the full-length mirror to your right. In that, your eyes trailed off to the reflection of the window. A singular lamppost shone a bright light through the glass–alone in the dreadful weather.

You gazed longingly at that window as if you were waiting for something to happen there. You were sat on the floor of your bedroom, staring at the dark and wet world you were living in. But you were waiting for something else, other than the rustling of the trees in the wind or the sudden crash of rain to attack your home.

You were waiting for your boyfriend, Peter. The boy who stuttered his way into your heart and stole it by distracting you with science puns, and you didn’t mind. You hadn’t seen him in a few days, apparently, Peter was in Germany. When you asked him why he was, you’d never thought you would ever hear him nervously say that he was a YouTube famous, web-slinging superhero. Yup, everyone’s favourite neighbourhood Spider-Man.

He came home the day before and told you everything over the phone. Peter was in Germany, wearing a red and blue spandex suit, shooting webs in an evacuated airport with the Avengers while you paced back and forth in your bedroom, wondering if he was okay. Turns out, Captain America beat him up, but he still managed to steal his shield–not for long, though.

As relieving as it was to hear his voice through the phone, you had to see him in person. You weren’t sleeping because you needed him and you had to know that he was okay. Sometimes you wonder if it was better off for your sanity if he didn’t tell you about his secret.

You were scared. What if, one day, he gets back from patrolling with more than a black eye? And God forbid, what if, one day, he doesn’t come back at all? Your throat closes up at that thought, eyes burning. You confronted him about it when he told you that he was heading to Germany, after breaking it to you that he was Spider-Man.

”No more ‘what if’s’, Y/N. Don’t bother taking the safe route–your boyfriend is Spider-Man.”

“You know, I like it when you call yourself my boyfriend.”

“O-Oh.”

No more what if’s. While you recalled that moment, you heard the window sliding open from the outside. You snapped your attention to the mirror and saw its reflection. There was a familiar figure leaning against the window sill, water droplets dripping from their hair. They stepped inside and stood there, waiting for you to do something.

He’s home. Finally.

“Hey, Y/N,” he broke the silence and awkwardly waved.

You jumped to your feet and ran towards Peter, using all of your energy to jump at him. You wrapped your arms around his neck and he caught you, holding you up by your thighs as your legs circled around his hips. You leaned forward and pressed a lingering kiss to his forehead, gazing down to meet his gorgeous orbs you’ve been longing to look at. You two stared at each other, searching each other’s eyes. You noticed a dark, purple bruise surrounding Peter’s right eye and suddenly you felt a pang of worry strike you in the pool of excitement.

“Oh, Peter, what–”

His eyes shut, he cut you off mid-sentence, slamming his chapped lips into yours. It didn’t take long for you to react. Your eyes fluttered shut and you melted into his craving touch. With racing hearts, you slowly trailed your fingers up the back of his neck, tugging at Peter’s chocolate brown curls. He groaned against your mouth and held you tighter, pulling you impossibly closer. Peter tasted like your favourite flavoured chapstick, and the corners of your lips tugged into a small smile. You raked your hand through his messy hair, making his knees feel weak.

The two of you forgot about the rain and his bruise. You forgot that you need sleep. The world is silent for a moment, and the both of you are satisfied. This is what you were waiting for. Him and him alone.

Peter pulled away first, in desperate need of air. You sucked in a harsh breath, still staring at the boy in affection and awe. Your lips tingled, only wanting more. He met your eyes once more, grinning ear-to-ear. You felt butterflies in your stomach as you blushed, thankful that it was dark.

Peter leaned down and softly kissed you again. “I missed you, beautiful,” he mumbled against your lips.

You rested your head on his shoulder and tickled his ear with the tip of your nose. “I missed you, too.”

The two of you stayed there in silence, breathing in each other’s scent and enjoying their company. You began to whisper sweet nothings into his ear, and you smirked when you felt him tense. Peter rubbed your back soothingly, running his cold fingertips along your spine, making you shiver.

“You haven’t been sleeping,” he realised out loud, taking notice of the bags under your eyes and your drained face, “w-was it because I was gone?”

You shrugged, rubbing your eyes as he kissed your temple. You unwrapped your legs from his hips and dropped to the floor, your arms going around his waist. Peter sighed, tucking a stray hair behind your ear and cupping your cheek with his hand. You leaned into him, your eyes nearly closing.

“Let’s go to bed, okay?” Peter offered, watching your head fall onto his chest.

“No! I wanna do something with you,” you whined like a child, poking him in the side.

Peter mentally agreed. He, too, wanted to do something with you. Anything and everything. But he grew more and more concerned whenever you let out a yawn and loosened your grip on him. Peter looked out and was faced with endless rain and depressing weather. His face brightened.

“Dance with me,” he said simply.

“Here? We don’t have music,” you laughed softly.

Peter took your wrist and intertwined your hands together, rubbing his thumb on the back of your hand. “In the rain,” he corrected, “and we don’t need music.”

You raised your eyebrows and followed his gaze, seeing the large storm. “What if we get sick?”

He narrowed his eyes towards you and yanked your hand towards the window as Peter stepped over the window sill. He was more than grateful that your room was on the first floor of your two-storey house, otherwise, moving down to dance in the rain would be a bit more difficult for the both of them. Also, sneaking out on secret dates from your parents–that, too.

“What did I tell you about what if’s?”

You rolled your eyes and quickly slipped into some worn out sneakers, following him. As you escaped the comfort of your bedroom, the violent wind clashed with your hair and exposed skin.

“If we get sick, it’s your fault,” you reminded him.

“Of course. My fault completely.”

The rain fell on top of you, your hair nearly entirely soaked. Peter let out a playful laugh as he raised both of your hands and twirled you around. You chuckled, skipping onto the sidewalk with him on your tail. You stood on the tips of your toes, raising Peter’s hand and twirling him as he did with you–just not as well. He snorted adorably, taking both of your hands and began shaking his hips.

“Oh my God,” you squealed, face-palming as a small smirk crossed his lips.

You tugged him closer and placed a chaste kiss on his lips. Peter smiled, running a hand through his soaking hair. He soon untangled his fingers from yours and clasped his hands around your waist, lifting you up and spinning until you both got dizzy.

“This is so cliché!” you exclaimed, shaking your head like a wet dog.

You yelped as he dropped you suddenly, your feet meeting the floor all too quickly and you fell to your butt on the wet concrete. Peter widened his eyes and fought the growing urge to laugh, but he couldn’t find the strength to and burst out into fits of giggles. You glared at him and within a second, you were up and chasing him down the street.

It was hard trying not to crack a smile. Even if you were a tiny bit pissed, this boy made it impossible to be mad at him–and he knew it.

“PETER BENJAMIN PARKER! GET YOUR ASS BACK HERE!”

“I-I’M SORRY!” Peter choked out, his stomach hurting from laughing so much.

He peered over his shoulder and stopped running, waiting for you to catch up. As you did, you found yourself punching Peter in the shoulder. He smiled when it had no effect on him whatsoever, and you wanted to slap that off his face when you saw it.

“Shut up,” you muttered, shaking in the cold and hiding your face in his chest, “I’m cold.”

He brought you closer to him with both arms draped across your shoulders. The rain poured over the top of you two and yet, you couldn’t be bothered moving out of it. Peter didn’t mind it at all. Just you, him, and the annoying rain that made your clothes stick to your skin. The two of you have never felt so complete and happy in a long time.

You both knew–those who say sunshine brings happiness, obviously have never danced in the rain.

“I love you,” you told him for the millionth time, smiling up at him.

Peter’s heart melted. He truly believed that your smile could light up the whole world, and maybe if the world stopped and looked at you, everything would be okay. He loved everything about you, but that smile was something else.

“I love you more.”

And he closed the distance between you two.

A-Achoo!

“How did you two get sick at the same time?” your mother had her hands on her hips, staring the both of you down.

“It was Peter’s fault.”

Peter sighed, nodding along. “Of course. My fault completely.”