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thefandomenchantress · 1 year ago

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DRDT Mean Girls AU

So a while back I saw some posts about DRDT Heathers AU, and I was like ‘woah! I have so many AUs like this one where I assign DRDT characters to roles in my favorite media, I should make a post about one of them!’.

Then I forgot.

But I remembered after listening to some of Mean Girls The Musical yesterday, so I’m finally doing it. Speaking of the musical, I’ve listened to many of songs from that a dozen times, and seen the movie exactly one time. So characterization will probably be based a bit more on the musical than the movie. Anyways, let’s get started!

Cady Heron: I’ll be honest, since Cady is arguably the least eccentric of the Mean Girls cast, and her main role in the story is changing her personality based on what other people want her to be without too much focus shown to her true personality for a large chunk of the film/musical, I had trouble figuring out which character I should put here. Eventually, I settled on Teruko. Along with being the main character of DRDT, it’s also confirmed that she spent at least some of her life living in Japan, so I figured we could swap the ‘moving from Africa’ plot line to ‘moving from Japan’ since most of the Africa stuff doesn’t impact the plot too much, besides Cady’s inner monologues, which don’t effect the physical world. And I know Teruko would need to be good at math in order for the plot to work, which she probably isn’t since she’s been on the run and stuff, but just pretend she, by some miracle, got really good at math for some reason.

Regina George: I was kinda stuck between David and Arei on this one, but decided to go Arei in the end. Since it’s been stated she was a high school bully, her being the high school bully in this AU just kinda makes sense. Unlike in Miss George in the movie, I think her parents would be rather absent, which is why she wants all the positive attention at school that comes with being popular. Plus, in the musical Regina gets a small scene where it basically shows she’s starting a redemption arc after the whole bus incident, so Arei can get better, just like in DRDT.

Gretchen Weiners: Ever since it was shown in chapter two that Ace has the habit of eavesdropping and overall being a bit nosy, I’ve loved shoving him into the Gretchen role, and gossipy roles in general. Plus, Gretchen’s hair is said to be ‘big because it’s full of secrets’ and. You have seen this man’s hair, right? Plus you can swap her wanting to make ‘fetch’ a thing to one of Ace’s strange idioms (go swing your bat into a beehive, petal backwards on your tricycle). Since there’s no killing game, he’d probably fit more into his chapter 1 characterization where he’s slightly less aggressive and more of a ‘kickable scaredy-cat’ in his words, doing anything Arei says (while harboring a fuck-ton of resentment towards her, but being too scared to act on it) until Teruko comes around to ruin their tenuous friendship.

Karen Smith: Arturo. One of thier main character traits is about their looks, Karen being the ‘hot one’ according to her song ‘Sexy’ from the musical. And while Karen is definitely nicer than Arturo, I think you could still make him fit the role, by having him act a bit less air-headed and a bit more condescending than Karen (aka like himself while still filling her role in the story, which is basically just to stop being friends with Regina/Arei). Since Arei is the closest thing to a celebrity they have in the school, because of her popularity and rich parents, he’s decided following her around will be the best option for his school career, especially since it boosts his own reputation. But it’s less so that he wants to be in her posse more like he settled for it, so he’s willing to break it off with her once Teruko starts breaking up the plastics.

Janis Ian/Sarkisian: J Moreno/Rosales, and I’ll be honest. One of the core reasons is because they both dress and act in a less feminine way than their other female classmates. But J also was confirmed to really like Teruko in the Chapter 2 refresher (I’m too lazy to look up the actual name), so her wanting to be friends with Teruko right off the bat makes sense. Janis also seems artistically inclined, inviting Cady to come to an Art Show, so switch that with J wanting Teruko to come to a play she’s doing the effects for, as well as them hanging out in the theatre instead of the art room (I know the musical has them in the art room for a scene, not sure if it’s the same in the movie). The ‘people say J’s a lesbian but she’s not’ plot thread is the only thing that bothers me, since having J be mad about being called a lesbian while there are lesbian relationships in the AU that no one bats an eye at wouldn’t make much sense. But I think you could probably play around with this plot thread a little, maybe J and Arei were friends when they were kids, just like Regina and Janis, but once people started saying J was weird/a loser/insert insult here, Arei threw J under the bus (get it??? cause regina gets hit by a bus??? i’m hilarious i know) to save her own reputation and told everyone that they weren’t even friends anymore. Which obviously hurts J’s feelings and she swears revenge for Arei’s betrayal.

Damian (I couldn’t find his last name): If Damian didn’t exist, I probably would’ve cast Whit as Karen, but Damian does exist so Whit goes here. Damian kinda just goes with the flow in Mean Girls, he doesn’t seem to have any reason to ruin Regina’s life but he helps anyways because he wants to be a good friend. Whit also just kinda goes with whatever he thinks will lead to the least conflict, which in this situation is going along with J’s plan, though he does try to talk her out of it a few times, since he isn’t too keen about the idea of ruining someone’s life. Understandable. But he wants J to be happy, so he follows the plan. Plus he’s one of the few characters to be confirmed to like boys, (along with David and Ace but neither really fit this role).

Aaron Samuels: I ship Minruko so of course I made Min Teruko’s love interest. There’s a scene in the musical where they talk about how Aaron’s hair looks ‘better pushed back’ which made me think of Min’s bangs and how Arei would want her to show off her pretty eyes. Aaron also tutors Cady in Math, which would definitely work for Min, since she’s the Ultimate Student and was helping another student study in her bonus episode. The main reason Regina wants to date Aaron in Mean Girls, other than to make Cady mad or jealous or whatever, is because he’s popular and hot. And Min has got that second thing down so good enough. I’d imagine dating the most popular girl in school would make Min rather popular by association anyway, so I don’t think it’s too big an issue that she’s not a football player that everyone wants to date or whatever.

And that’s it. This AU is…kind of a mess, but I like it. If you have any arguments for why certain drdt characters should be switched around or if any characters not mentioned should be casted, I’d love to hear them! I know making two of the ‘mean girls’ trio boys is a little strange but I thought they fit the roles best. Plus I had fun imagining them gender swapped.

#danganronpa despair time #drdt #drdt spoilers #teruko tawaki #arei nageishi #ace markey #arturo giles #j moreno #j rosales #whit young #min jeung

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rigelmejo · 2 years ago

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Language Learning Victories in 2022! \(ovo)/

This is just going to be a motivational post for when I look back later. I’ve been reflecting on some cool stuff I was able to do this year in the languages I’ve been studying, that I’ve not been able to do before!

In japanese, I played the opening of Yakuza Ishin in only japanese without a guide and I managed it! I only had a rough grasp of what was going on (the historical japan setting definitely meant I had no idea what any jobs were called), but I managed it! I was familiar with the gameplay controls as it was similar to other yakuza games I played in english, but it marked the first time EVER I played a game in japanese I had never played in english or watched an english lets play of before!

In japanese I played 4 hours of Final Fantasy X in japanese this December, understood most of what I read (maybe 80-90% with the rest I could follow since I know the plot from english). Unlike prior times I’d tried to play games in japanese, this playthrough I used no word lookups and did not feel ‘drained’ or like it was intense effort to understand and follow (in Ishin it did feel ‘draining’ though I managed it). I think this milestone means I can probably handle Nier Automata and Nier Replicant in japanese now.

In japanese I read my first graded readers! I’ve been reading chapters in Satori Reader, so lots of translation aids for reference. But it feels good! It feels a lot like reading Mandarin Companion in Chinese.

I read 8 FULL BOOKS in chinese this Fall!!! And then some bits of novels, adding up to about ~500k chinese characters read this Fall!!! This is a huge accomplishment for me. One of the stories I read was a pingxie fanfic which was ~127k characters, I finished in 2-3 weeks (I can’t remember but it was finished in a reasonable time). That is the longest chinese story I’ve read so far! My dream goal is to finish Guardian next, but I know that’s a pipe dream possibly as it’s ~440k and much longer than anything else I managed to finish reading. But hey, at my current reading speed that’s 2 months, last year’s reading speed it would’ve taken 6 months, so I am improving!!! This reading goal is huge and I still can’t believe I did it. In the long run, I still want to test for myself if the claim of 4 million characters (from the “92 books to learn to read in a language” article) is true. So in the years ahead, 4 million characters read is the goal. For future me: a combination of reading-while-looking-up-words (like in Readibu) with reading another story extensively (like on paper or in Edge with TTS reading aloud to keep my pace up) was great. I feel like each activity helped build slightly different skills, in the first case increasing vocabulary through quick lookups, in the second case increasing vocabulary learned from context and reading-speed. I think the first activity has faster vocabulary acquisition, but the second activity trains a skill for general vocabulary acquisition when reading (and you learn words just not as many per reading session) as well as reading skill overall (comprehending sentences and paragraphs overall at a quick pace).

In japanese I watched my first lets play only in japanese! I watched a chill lets player’s 20 minute video on a horror game I’d never seen (so no prior context) and followed what was going on! To be fair, it was simple: a guy goes on a trip up a mountain through the woods in a rented car with a girl, car breaks and he runs into a cop, then car breaks and he runs into another guy who’s stuck up there, then guy and girl make it to the house in the mountain. That’s what happened in the first video (at least its what I THINK did - I could have misunderstood parts). I followed the video, and I am excited that I could keep watching. Later this week I want to listen to an audio drama I found with a transcript, and see if I can follow that audio drama’s plot too. I also watched some 20 minute chunks of another lets player, one of her videos had no captions at all. She was playing Kingdom Hearts so I knew what was going on from context, but it was also fun using listening skills only in combination with what I saw on screen visually to understand some of the commentary she was making. Last year when I tried lets plays, it was harder for me to follow.

Listened to ~10 Guardian audiobook chapters while walking and followed along. I’ve done listening-reading method with the first 20 chapters before, so it makes sense I’d be able to follow the plot. But still awesome I managed to do it!

Listened to ~15 condensed audio files of Ice Fantasy. This was a fun one! I found the condensed audio so i’d listen to it when driving like it was an audio drama, and I watched the show a year ago (with english subs) so vaguely recalled some names and lines when I heard them. But listening in only chinese in condensed audio, it was cool how much context I seemed to remember from episodes because of the actor’s vocal performance and music, and therefore just HOW many words I understood. I feel like I definitely understood 95% or more of all words I heard. It was a cool experience, and a lesson for future me that studying with condensed audio works quite well for me.

Not anything I’m studying formally yet, but I read a few chapters of Dante’s Inferno in bilingual english-italian and tried to figure out the italian words meaning using translation. It was fun, so I ended up buying The Nature Method Italian book. One day when I have time I plan to go through Ayan Academy’s audio recordings of the book (because I had NO idea of proper italian pronunciation when reading), and read my version of the textbook. I haven’t properly studied any italian yet, but these activities were fun.

Honestly, a lot of my language progress happened this Fall 2022. I think I studied a bit in the Spring, but I was so sick for so long I didn’t have energy for much, and I just did not end up studying much generally. So I’m really happy with my progress, since any happened at all. In particular, I’m REALLY excited about the reading progress in chinese.

I made the bulk of it from September to October, and it really is in part because I found Heavenly Path’s site and novel recommendations (which worked EXCELLENTLY for me as reading at my level and stuff to fill in gaps in my knowledge), and because a lot of the posters on Heavenly Path had written articles about what they did in their reading journey. It was amazing to see what they did and their progress, and how brave and quickly they pushed into reading more, and it really motivated me to do the same. It’s absolutely thanks to seeing their experiences, that I tried hard to read more this Fall and managed to finish 1 story, let alone as many as I did.

Indirectly, I think seeing their progress also motivated me in my japanese. Lately, just since this November, I’ve been trying to be braver about what I try to do in japanese. I think I’m still (realistically) upper N5-lower N4 language skill wise in japanese. With an artificial inflation in reading comprehension from hanzi knoweldge somewhat helping. But in just actual practice, my ability to do things IN japanese has increased significantly since last year. Last year I tried playing video games in japanese, and it was possible but I’d take 1+ hours getting to a savepoint I should’ve only taken 15 minutes to get through (because my reading was so slow), or I could play a game I knew from english but it felt intensely mentally draining. Whereas now I can get to savepoints and game-sections in a timely manner, and I do not feel drained when I play so I can play for long periods. That progress is SIGNIFICANT for me, as it greatly affects what I can do and how much I can enjoy doing it. Since playing video games (and watching lets plays seeing video games I love) in their original japanese is a major goal for me, its absolutely awesome to see progress in this area.

My manga reading has not improved much (going from japanese to chinese versions of a comic REALLY hammers in how much better my chinese is lol), which in part has reaffirmed to me hiragana-spellings of words are a weak spot for me (the more kanji the Better I read) and informal grammar is another weak spot. Also hiragana only ‘helper’ words like ‘however’, ‘and then’, ‘perhaps’ etc cause me a lot of confusion, being in mainly hiragana so I tend to not know if they’re grammar conjugation or words, and I do not know most of these helper type words. I think any manga reading improvement has been nearly all ‘artificial reading comprehension’ gains from knowing more hanzi and that indirectly helping japanese kanji recognition. However, reading Satori Reader stories just from this month alone is helping massively. I can tell consistent study for some months will cause significant reading improvements. Just from a month of it, I am recognizing more ‘helper’ words and it’s helping my grammar understanding. It makes sense, since reading dense text helped me so much in chinese, that reading in japanese will help too. So I think when it comes to studying, learning from manga will probably not be a primary activitiy but reading graded readers will for a while.

I think the audio-mainly study approach I used this year for japanese worked well, and will continue it. The audio focus helped a lot with remembering actual japanese words, instead of relying on hanzi knowledge to guess written word meanings. The listening focused approach also helps me notice verb-conjugation-chunks better so when I run into them in reading I realize ah yes this whole long chunk is conjugation not multiple words. I think moving forward I’ll continue an audio focus, and when reading keep using mostly methods that utilize BOTH text and audio (like lets plays, Satori Reader, Clozemaster).

I still REALLY want to try listening reading method for japanese. I constantly put it off because focusing for 1-3 hours is hard for me lol. But I have some very good resources for trying it, and I’d like to test out the method really badly with something like japanese where I’m more of a beginner than I was when I tested it for chinese. I have Duoreader app, Alice in Wonderland on that would be excellent for a test. I also have the Nier Replicant audio cd and transcript and translation, which is 1.5 hours and would be a perfect short test if I could just manage to focus for 3 hours. MDZS also has a japanese audio drama, which would be fun to both 1. experience a story I like in japanese translation, and 2. test out L R Method with.

I think with chinese, I’m at a point where unless I do L R Method with something SIGNIFICANTLY harder than what I’m reading, I will pick up vocabulary faster by just reading in chinese along to chinese audio and guessing words or reading in Readibu with word lookups. Last time I did L R Method with chinese I used Guardian and learned a LOT of new words per chapter, this time I truly have 95% comprehension of Guardian and don’t run into very many unknown words. Not enough to make the intensive-feeling L R Method worth it since it takes 2 times as long to go through a chapter. I do think L R Method in chinese with something like PoYun would work now, because Poyun’s author is a decent step up with several words per paragraph I usually don’t know.

#progress #goals #victories

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blehblahble · 10 months ago

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Actually if you have links I at least would appreciate that

Specifically, I’ve seen documentation from that one trial where the court says that it had 8 accusations of abuse made against him, mostly in the form of specific extremely awful and straightforwardly abusive statements that he had made at some point, and that it had verified 6 of them as true. But what does that mean. Like he admitted he said those things? They produced recordings of it? He said it in public and t a bunch of witnesses heard? They evidently found something actually solid to definitively pin him with, but what actually was it?

Like, ok. You say it’s not worth the mental energy, and normally I’d be following that advice. I’d just take the word of the court at face value and presume they had good enough proof of this stuff, whatever it was, so the accusations were probably true and thus Zac was probably just straightforwardly a horrifically evil person.

But like, I just got done listening to a bunch of recordings of people saying things like “well yeah I guess I never saw anything proving that Zac actually did any of the stuff I was saying that he had definitely done. But it hardly mattered, I mean a fair chunk of it was intentional vindictive lies anyway. Usually those parts were pretty obvious, and to be honest sometimes it got a little ridiculous-I mean of course I still repeated all of it”

I’ll be honest, not coming into this with any prior knowledge of these people and learning these events entirely from that article perhaps left me just straightforwardly biased. Aw fuck, wait-I think I got successfully propagandad here, by way of an intentionally manipulative framing of the facts.

Of course so it’s undeniably objectively fucked that this psychologist just cut these inconvenient trial results out of her narrative completely. I mean even if all she had to say was like “we will be ignoring this as obviously bullshit, we can take it for granted that this was the result of an organized frame job” you could perhaps argue she was merely biased to the point of incompetence. Which would very much be better!

Accounting for this dishonesty, we can now say with confidence that literally every single person involved here has a demonstrated willingness to lie utterly shamelessness in the service of pushing their preferred narrative. Great!

…..well to finally return to the point, if you do happen to know the answer to my question that would be appreciated. Also just whatever links you were thinking would be clarifying here, whatever really.

The Worst People You Have Never Met, or, What I Learned During A Four Year Academic Study of Online Harassment In The Dungeons & Dragons Community

Dr Clio Belle Weisman

From the article: Having just escaped the world of incel culture I was not much interested in the kind of people that write shitty messages on Twitter because a new Star Wars character is black. At first glance that kind of harasser seemed both relatively well-understood by my field and boring. I was more interested in those who, at least on paper, were like the people around me every day and who were what the industry claimed to want to be — creative artists, writers, progressives, feminists, LGBTQ+ folk. I know why right-wingers want to hurt diverse groups of creative people, I do not have a handle on why diverse groups of creative people hurt each other. And I desperately wanted to. This article really needs to get more traction than it is.

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angry-geese · 3 years ago

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Sukuna requests. S/o makes fun of him all the time, calls him weak, etc. What nobody knows at the beginning is that s/o is significantly stronger than sukuna

The Definition of Human - Sukuna x Reader

Warnings: some swearing but its pretty tame. mention of death, and violence. Sukuna kind of needs his own warning. sfw. gn!reader.

a/n: as much as i love the idea of sukuna being soft for his human s/o i also love the thought of them being much stronger than him and him having no clue what do to with that

Word Count: 2.1k

You were just a sorcerer when he first met you, barely an adult, cast out by your village.

Someone so powerful hadn't been born for centuries. A sorcerer like you could turn the world of Jujutsu on its head. And that was the last thing they wanted to happen. The older you grew, the more unpredictable you became. You were far too strong for the village elders to handle. While you could have been a powerful ally, you would have been an even worse foe. The very people that had raised you, who taught you how to use your powers had begun to fear you.

Though you weren't trussed up like a sacrifice, you were sat by one of his altars like one.

It was only by chance you stumbled across such a thing. The surrounding woods were vast, and winding. No matter what path you took, you always seemed to wind back up by them. Perhaps it was a work of sorcery, meant to keep you lost in the woods forever. No trail seemed to lead back home. The village elders never expected you to last long on your own against the elements, let alone the King of Curses. But growing exhausted, and hungry, you had little choice but to stop and rest. The altar had offerings in the form of food, and a place to rest. Far more than Sukuna needed. You figured he wouldn't notice if you took a few things.

At the base of an altar sat a much smaller form. A human, one from the local village. Your shoulders were slumped, your arms curled around a bag. You didn't look sad, so much as you looked furious. You were talking to yourself, listing out all the ways you’d flatten each and every structure, how you’d salt the very earth they stood on, how you’d turn the once rich, fertile soil uninhabitable.

For having Sukuna’s interest in mind, he was certainly ready to burn it to the ground. Your village did little to appease the King of Curses. The humans in it were conniving, and rather quick to betray him. The relationship between the two was strained at best. In exchange for offerings in the form of crops, alcohol, and whoever decided to get on the village elders’ bad side, he wouldn't burn your home to the ground.

In a way, you were their last sacrifice to him, and by far his favorite.

As a child your parents had warned you, telling you never to go into the woods alone. A four armed man wandered out there, and he had a habit of making travelers disappear. Now that very same forest you once feared was your only sliver of comfort.

It took you a moment to realize he was standing there. And when you finally noticed him, you didn't look at him with the fear most humans did. There was a curious glint in your eyes. You sized him up, studied him in a way he wasn't used to.

In your hands you held an apple—an old offering—paring it with a knife. You were carving around the bruises. The texture of bruised apples always bothered you.

“It's dangerous to be out here alone, little one,” he said, eyeing you up like prey, “you should know that by now.”

“You’re the least of my worries, old man,” you said, popping a chunk of apple into your mouth.

You were still human. Strong, but human. You needed sleep, and food. If exposed to the elements too long you would freeze, or succumb to heatstroke or thirst.

“Old man?!” He said, clearly offended.

“What? You don't think I’ve heard the stories?” You asked. “You don’t scare me.”

And you were right. Even as he looked you in the eyes, you didn't back down once. You, unlike every other human from your village, weren't scared of him. He found you curious, and interesting. From the very moment your eyes locked with his, he was infatuated.

“I should frighten you,” he warned.

“You don't,” you said, “in fact, I think I could kick your ass!”

Expecting it to be an easy fight, he took your offer.

What resulted was a fight that would last days. Sukuna had never met anyone who could last so long against him. Let alone a human. Your strength was only rivaled by your unwavering rage. You were determined in a way he’d never seen before. Your village, along with half of the surrounding forest would be razed in the battle.

They had to have seen this coming. The child that is not embraced by the village will burn it down to feel it's warmth.

And it's warmth you felt.

You couldn't imagine yourself being sad. You were too filled with anger and betrayal. There was no room left in your heart for sadness.

He remembers the look of the fires, and how they glinted in your eyes. He thinks that's when you began to turn into a curse.

After the third day, he had grown not only bored, but tired. It was clear neither of you were capable of destroying the other. He figured you were too tough to eat; you wouldn't make good meat. Uraume couldn't do a whole lot with you. And you were too combative to be a concubine. You would not go with him willingly. He's not one to give up, nor is he one to admit defeat, but he knows when he's not going to win. The two of you would mutually destroy the world before you would destroy each other. There was no end in sight. Sukuna simply wanted to leave.

So he simply headed for home.

That enraged you. After days of fighting, there was no climatic end to the battle. You wanted something more.

"Hey asshole!" You said. "You can't just walk away!"

"I know when I've met my match." He said. "Do you?"

"The hell is that supposed to mean?"

"It means this world will burn before we destroy each other."

The two of you were quite literally a match made in hell. You would be a powerful ally and an even worse foe. There was no point in fighting you.

He did nothing to stop you when you followed him.

You were more of a nuisance than anything else. He often found himself comparing you to a cockroach. No matter how many times he tried to squash, poison, or starve out you always came back. If he couldn't kill you, then he had to have you on his side. You weren't something to be deceived, betrayed, injured, or killed. You were stronger than that. You were sharp, too, with a tongue to match. Whether harsh words he threw your way, you returned in double. It was rare he found a human with quite a tongue on them. He often remarked about having it nailed to his door. You simply pointed at his servants and dared them to try it.

They never did. Anyone who dared harm you often met a gruesome fate, either at his hands, or yours.

He didn't consider himself capable of falling in love. And he isn't. To some extent. But love is what he felt. You were the closest to an equal the King of Curses had ever met. In many ways you surpassed him, but those who admitted it often met a swift death.

He moved onto the next village. So did you. Word had not yet spread of what happened. People knew of the fires, but not of the deaths, and your connection to them. You settled down, taking up work with the local shamans. Though you were a newcomer, your help was gladly accepted when Sukuna first showed up, demanding offerings.

In the beginning you tried to warn them. That didn't help. They never listened. It always ended the same way; with a razed village and a bunch of needless deaths.

Sukuna would visit. Often in the late hours of the night as you were trying to get some sleep. He did little more than steal your food, and make himself far too comfortable. Of course that's how most of your meetings went.

He's not sure when he fell for you. But it was something that happened all at once. After years of a back and forth between you two, something gave. You took a place right by his side. He found himself no longer taking concubines, no longer indulging in the sacrifices presented to him. He found himself consumed with the thought of you. He had to have you.

“I can't believe you’re all out of sake,” he said, one night while visiting.

“I wonder who’s fault that is,” you said.

He cast you a glare from across the room. You'd have to buy more in the morning anyway. But all the good stuff has been put up as an offering, and the only sake left in the market is watered down, and worth nothing to you. You don't drink the stuff all that much anyway, you just used it for cooking.

“I question why I keep you alive,” he said.

“I think if you could even kill me,” you said, “you would have by now. Someone as weak as you doesn't stand a chance.”

He didn't like this, and hauled you into his arms, carrying you away from your cooking.

“No!” You squealed, too busy giggling to put up much of a fight. “The rice is going to overcook!”

Sukuna couldn't care less about the rice. He tossed you rather carelessly onto your shared bed, caging you in his arms. The kiss he pulled you into was fleeting, and soft, like he was almost afraid to touch you.

When the village elders first discovered these meetings, it didn't take them long to exile you. The very people that had welcomed you had ignored your warnings and betrayed you. You had gone from respected, and even loved, to feared in an instant.

At some point you stopped trying to warn them. If you really wanted to, you could stop him. Delay him at best. Give people time to run. At least someone would survive. But after a while, you began to think some of them deserved it. The sacrifices they provided were never enough when Sukuna grew tired of toying with them. It was just you and him. Two constant presences in each other's life. You grew used to his company. Enjoyed it, even. You’d never tell him that. Mostly because you didn't want to inflate his ego even more. You were as much his as he was yours.

At some point you became more curse than human.

You could breathe, your lungs would fill with air, but the action provided no relief. You no longer felt the need to eat, and often found yourself forgetting to do so. Food turned to ash in your mouth. The enjoyment of eating was long since lost to you. You're alive, but you're not. Your heart beats but the blood that courses through your veins is not quite right. Your memories of yourself when you were younger fade. But the anger. That fear, that anger, cast into the past, is the only humanity left in you.

You found yourself falling asleep next to him, and in turn waking up next to him. Sometimes in his arms, sometimes on the other side of the bed. He found himself opening his arms for you to climb into. You would do so, albeit reluctantly.

You were his partner. You were a nuisance, but you were his partner.

"Am I dead?" You asked, one morning in the fall. You think it was fall. You remember the leaves turning yellow and orange, but it wasn't cold enough to be winter.

"I haven't killed you yet, so no." He said. "Why?"

"Because I woke up and saw your face, and thought I had finally gone to hell." You said.

His mouth opened, but no words came out. An offended sounding huff left him. He rolled over onto you, pinning you to the sheets. His knees planted on either side of your body, his hands found your wrists. It’d take no effort from you to throw him off. But you didn't. You never did.

“You’re not in hell yet,” he said.

“I'd beg to differ,”

“Then beg,”

“Make me!”

He attacked your neck with wet, open mouth kisses, sending you into a giggling fit. Your skin was warm under his lips. You were always so warm. You were flushed from your chest to your forehead, blush dusting the tips of your ears and your nose. Your arms wrapped around your neck, pulling him flush to your chest. Your heartbeat was audible, racing as he pressed his ear to your chest.

“Stay in bed a little longer,” he said. He was pleading more than he was asking. And you weren't able to find it in you to refuse.

It wasn't entirely awful having someone stronger than him.

#ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #sukuna fluff #jujutsu kaisen #sukuna #this was either going to be called the definition of human or in hell i'll be in good company #possibly uncharacteristically soft sukuna #also i suck at tagging #goose answers

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a-small-batch-of-dragons · 4 years ago

Text

Not So Serious

Prompt: ayoooo I’m like-obsessed with your writing style omg if your requests are open I’d love to see some good good logince hurt/comfort where Roman has a crush on Logan and gets this idea that he’s not serious enough for Logan to like him at all so Roman completely changes himself only for Logan to wonder where the man he’s in love with went.

Thanks for the prompt, babe!

Read on Ao3

Pairings: logince, as on the tin

Warnings: roman’s a little bit of a self-doubting and self-depricating boi but other than that none! we are happy now!

Word Count: 5340

Roman knows he’s the least important of the Light Sides. Or at the very least, the one that Thomas listens to the least.

That’s okay.

It’s not, not really, but that doesn’t matter.

What does matter is that most of it can be chalked up to the fact that he’s the least serious Side. He’s the dreamer, the fanatic, the one whose head is permanently in the clouds. He sings, he dances, he acts, he plays. And that’s his job! He’s Creativity, for Shakespeare’s sake, and if he’s not, well, what good is he?

Well, he’s not much good when he is Creativity, but that’s beside the point.

But Thomas needs him to be serious. Patton, for all his lightheartedness, knows how to be serious when the time calls for it. And behind all those jokes and smiles and corny lines that make all of them want to cringe a little, he’s talking about, arguably, the most serious thing there is. What’s right and what’s wrong. No matter how you slice it, that’s serious. And he’s Thomas’s heart! How can you not take that seriously?

Then there’s Virgil, who Roman considers a Light Side. Virgil demands to be taken seriously. Not verbally, but come on, he’s Anxiety. Mental stuff is no joke, and they’ve had enough close calls to know that for sure. Virgil’s a snarky bastard, but he rarely says something he doesn’t actually mean. He keeps them safe when none of the others know what to do and honestly? That’s serious stuff. Virgil’s got enough on his plate.

Then there’s Logan.

Logan.

Roman could go on for days about Logan. He won’t, but he could.

Logan is Logic. Perhaps more than anything else, Thomas needs Logic. And Logan. Logan is always present, whether he’s there physically or not, and his voice is always going to be heard in the conversation sooner or later. He breaks down the biggest problems Roman’s ever seen until they’re manageable chunks, so much so that it’s ridiculous that they were ever big in the first place. He talks them through everything, slowly and surely. He makes everything look easy.

And that’s all the more impressive because Roman knows it’s not.

It’s not easy to do what Logan does. It’s not easy for Logan to always make himself heard. It’s not easy to carry the single brain cell in any given conversation.

But he does and it’s wonderful.

Logan is serious. His job is serious. That doesn’t mean he’s serious all the time, no, Roman’s seen him snap a quip faster than anything with a smirk on his face, and their bond over Crofter’s is legendary. And he knows the gleam that means Logan is immensely satisfied with whatever insult he’s come up with to shut Roman down. Even through the hurt of a new bruise forming on Thomas’s ego, he has to smile because it’s so satisfying to watch someone just be very good at something.

He’s also incredible at calming them all down. He’s so sweet and kind and gentle in all the right ways and you will never convince Roman that Logan knows nothing about emotions. Come on, he’s the most intelligent Side, that extends to emotional intelligence too. The amount of times he’s been able to rip them out of some horrible spiral with just a simple touch or a word is too high for Roman to count. And he never asks for anything, he just does it. Because he’s good like that.

Roman would be an utter, utter fool if he didn’t take Logan seriously. He doesn’t dare underestimate him, never again, not after that rap battle. He doesn’t try to speak over him, not once everyone’s actually paying attention and Logan’s clearly trying to say something. He listens, he tries, he takes him seriously.

But sometimes Logan needs to not be serious! He can see when the strain gets a little too much and he needs to cut someone down to size.

Well, here’s Roman!

And yes, it’s worth it. It’s always worth it. Logan smiles and it’s like the sun comes out. Yes, that’s a cliché but we all know clichés are cliché for a reason. Logan smiles, the sun comes out, and Roman wants to bathe in it. Wants to sit and listen to Logan talk about anything just so he’ll keep smiling, keep talking, keep being Logan. Logan is serious, but serious isn’t always Logan.

Isn’t always.

Most of the time, though…

Most of the time, it looks like Logan is thrilled to not have to stand next to Roman.

Most of the time, it seems like every time Roman opens his mouth, Logan’s trying not to roll his eyes or is just listening out of politeness. And every time he pitches an idea, it seems like Logan’s getting just as much enjoyment out of leaving the meetings as he does when he doesn’t find anything wrong with it.

Most of the time, that 0.5% hangs in the air between them like a moat.

Roman doesn’t want that. Roman doesn’t want Logan to view him as a diametrically opposed foe, he doesn’t want to be Logan’s other side of the coin, he doesn’t want Logan to think he’s only worth 0.5% of a day.

But 0.5% is all he gets if he stays Roman.

It’s not big changes, nothing that would compromise Thomas, but they’re noticeable. At least he hopes so.

He stops singing out loud in the common areas and instead has a headphone in when he wants to listen to something. He reads in the chair—sitting properly, not with his limbs haphazardly thrown about like he’s a newly made life form with no idea how muscles work—and keeps his comments to himself, written down in a notebook or in his head. He asks politely if Logan wants to come on a walk through the Imagination and conjures up something simple. A forest path, or a garden, or a small town road. None of the fantastical woods, magic castles, or treacherous mountains that he’s so fond of, because those are daydreams.

He’s quieter outside of videos. Sure, he’s still as obnoxious as ever when the cameras are on, but they tend to exaggerate themselves when they’re being filmed anyway. So it won’t be too much of a surprise when he’s not like that when the cameras are off. He doesn’t speak as much—well, he doesn’t monologue as much. He speaks when spoken to, he’s as courteous as he knows how to be, and he tries to be serious. Even if his job is anything but.

He could tell you it’s exhausting what he does for the videos and he’d rather not do it when he doesn’t have to.

He could tell you it’s because it would be better for Thomas if they all got along well.

He could tell you it’s because he wants a healthier and more productive working relationship with Logan.

He could tell you all of these things.

Whether or not you believe him is up to you.

…because Roman might be the actor, but he’s never been a particularly good liar. And deep down—not that deep down—we all know why he wants to be more serious, don’t we?

Logan doesn’t like fantasy. Logan doesn’t like excessive noise. Logan doesn’t like someone who can’t be serious.

Logan is kind and perfect and wonderful and smart and so many things.

And above all, Logan is serious.

Roman can work with that.

———————————————————————

“Hey, Specs! Do you have time to brainstorm?”

“It will have to be quick, Roman, I’ve not much time to spare.”

“Oh. That’s alright, then, we can do it later.”

“Are you certain?”

“Of course! I know how important your schedule is for you, please, don’t worry about it.”

“Ah. I see. Well, thank you, Roman.”

They never do end up having that brainstorm. Not alone.

“Logan?”

“Yes, Roman?”

“Would it be alright if I played music? I’ll keep it low.”

“…we can try, though I usually prefer working in silence.”

“Oh, in that case, I’ll just go—“

“Let’s try?”

“If you’re sure.”

Roman ends up getting his headphones after a few minutes.

“Roman?”

“Yes, my d—Logan?”

“…were you going to say something else?”

“No, no, I got lost in my head again, I thought you were…someone else.”

“It may be worth practicing getting out of your head, Roman.”

“I know.”

He never quite manages, but he’s trying.

“Ro—oh.”

“Logan? Is something wrong?”

“You’ve changed your room. Your…your paintings, your drawings, they’re…where did you put them?”

“Oh, I got rid of them.”

“Got rid of them?”

“Yes. Surely you know how difficult it can be to work in a crowded space?”

“…yes, I suppose I do.”

Logan doesn’t comment on the fact that Roman’s room isn’t quite so red anymore either.

“Roman?”

“Yes?”

“This idea, it seems…quite…realistic.”

“Is that not the point, Sp—Logan?”

“Well, yes, I suppose so.”

“Besides, from a practical standpoint, we’re operating with a limited budget here. The scope of the videos has to be adjusted accordingly.”

“Yes, I suppose you’re correct.”

Logan doesn’t mention that it doesn’t necessarily feel like Roman’s idea.

“Roman?”

“Yes?”

“Care to comment?”

“Oh, no, I’m perfectly content.”

“Are you certain?”

“Of course.”

Logan doesn’t ask again.

———————————————————————

Logan is really confused.

Something’s wrong with Roman, that much is obvious, but he can’t figure out what. Roman’s been quiet lately, outside of the videos, but even in the videos, he’s been different. He’s not talking as much anymore, not going on his incredibly passionate rants that one can feel if they just listen hard enough. He’s not risen to the bait for weeks now, preferring instead to…talk. Or listen. His room is suspiciously absent of his paintings and drawings that make Logan want to sit and stare and lose track of time.

And he’s stopped singing.

That’s a definite indicator that something’s wrong.

But he can’t figure out what.

None of them are fighting; Patton and Virgil have noticed that something is different, certainly, but they don’t know—they can’t figure out exactly what. They would have told him if they had a disagreement with Roman, but they haven’t.

Thomas isn’t being affected by it. In fact, he hasn’t noticed that anything’s wrong.

And on the surface, Roman seems fine, but Logan knows better.

He stops in front of his whiteboard, staring hard at the pieces of information he has written down.

Roman is no longer singing or playing music out loud outside of his room.

Roman is changing the ideas that he brings to the brainstorming sessions. He claims they are meant to be more ‘practical’ and easier to budget.

Roman does not insist that we spend time with him anymore.

Roman is quiet and no longer engages in ‘banter’ exchanges with me.

Roman no longer brings me to the elaborate places in the Imagination.

Roman no longer gives me nicknames.

Has…has Logan done something to Roman?

He doesn’t think he has. He hasn’t—he hasn’t shot down any ideas lately, and certainly none so much as to trigger such a drastic change. There have been no arguments. There have been no big changes for Thomas.

He finds himself twisting the cap of the marker back and forth as he focuses on the period at the end of the last sentence written. Perhaps…perhaps Roman is simply going through a rough patch? Occasionally the prince will lapse into a ‘grayer’ state, for lack of a better term, where he exhibits fewer of his energetic tendencies, but none have gone on for such a duration. Additionally, his behavior in videos has not altered as significantly as would indicate this as the cause.

Perhaps I should try to talk to him about it.

Logan nods sharply to himself and turns, walking out of his room toward Roman’s. The red door looms there, slightly ajar. Frowning, Logan raps on it gently with his knuckles.

“Roman? May I come in?”

No response.

“Roman?” Logan eases the door open. “Roman?”

No sign of Roman. The bathroom door isn’t locked, his laptop isn’t open, his phone is nowhere to be seen. Perhaps Roman simply forgot to close his door all the way. Logan shuts it carefully and turns to head downstairs.

“Virgil? Patton?”

Virgil glances up from his phone. “What’s up, L?”

Ignoring the little flutter in his chest at the first nickname he’s been called in a while, Logan adjusts his glasses and glances around. “Have you seen Roman?”

Virgil shakes his head. “Pat? Have you?”

“I think he said he was going into the Imagination but he’d be back for dinner?”

Logan nods. “Thank you both.”

“Logan?”

“Yes?”

“Can you, uh—“ Patton wrings his hands for a moment— “can you ask him what’s wrong for us?”

“Princey’s been off for a while, we wanna know why but he won’t tell us.”

Logan blinks. “Considering I was on my way to ask him the same thing, I take it he’s been as…hesitant to share any information with you as he has with me?”

Their nods make something twist in his chest.

“If he’s gonna tell anyone,” Virgil mutters as he turns to go, “it’ll be you.”

Logan pauses. “Excuse me?”

Virgil shrugs. “You’re his favorite, L. He thinks the sun shines outta your face.”

Despite himself, Logan feels heat rush to his cheeks. “I’m quite sure you’re confusing me for Patton, Virgil.”

“Oh, no, Princey’s got it bad f—“

“Virgil!”

“Oh come on,” Virgil groans, his head lolling on the couch as he turns to look at Patton, “you’ve noticed it too.”

“But that’s not our secret to tell!”

“Shit. Yeah, you’re right. Oops.”

“Wait, wait,” Logan stammers, quickly trying to get a grasp of the situation, “you—Roman what?”

Virgil shakes his head. “Nope. Sorry, Logan. I already fucked up. You’re gonna have to ask him. And hey, you were on your way to do just that!”

Logan narrows his eyes but Virgil shrugs, undaunted. He turns and pointedly does not run up the stairs.

The door to the Imagination is ajar. He takes a deep breath and pushes it open, expecting to meet some fantastical landscape, a village, or a castle, perhaps.

He doesn’t expect to wander into what looks like the grand foyer of some Victorian mansion.

The door shuts behind him with a thud that echoes gently around the room. His shoes aren’t particularly loud but his steps make resounding clicks as he walks through the halls. The walls are elegantly crafted, with artful splashes of color here and there. He comes to a grand staircase and has to swallow heavily at the richness of the wood under his fingers as he climbs slowly, slowly up.

There’s something here, he decides, that’s not been here for a while. Not since he started accompanying Roman more often. He remembers the first time, where he’d wearily said he didn’t have the patience for an adventure and had been pleasantly surprised by Roman’s offer of a simple walk. Each walk after that had been lovely, truly, but it was always painfully obvious that it was in the Imagination.

Now, though? Now the walls seem to curve about Logan as he walks, like petals of a flower curve about its center. The house seems to hold him, cradle him almost as he walks slowly through it. He can almost feel a gentle hand at the base of his spine, between his shoulder blades, under his chin. It takes no effort to keep walking, to discover more and more of this truly beautiful house, to look and look and look without fear of his eyes hurting or his head growing weary.

It feels like Roman, he realizes with a giddy bubble in his chest, this is Roman’s work. Roman is here.

That realization gives him enough courage to call out.

“Roman? Roman, are you here?”

“Logan?”

“Roman!” He turns around, trying to trace the echoes to their source. “Where are you?”

“I’m in the library, keep walking toward the back of the hall.”

Logan’s steps beat out an eager pace as he begins to hurry towards Roman’s voice. He meets a wide set of mahogany doors and pushes them open, looking for—

“Oh,” he murmurs as the doors swing wide, “oh, this is…magnificent.”

If he were—well, if he were Roman, he’d compare this to the library the Beast gifts Belle. The shelves tower over his head, two full floors of books stretching out almost as far as he can see. As he looks closer, he realizes this is a theatre, with the seats replaced with shelves. At the back of the library stands the stage, converted into a seating area with as many plush couches and overstuffed armchairs as one could ever want. Curtains drape themselves across a vast window, golden sunlight streaming inside. And on the window seat, standing as the doors fly open, is Roman.

“Roman, my goodness—“

“Whoa, easy, Logan,” Roman chuckles, catching Logan carefully by the elbows as he rushes through the library, “you’ll knock yourself over at this rate.”

“This is magnificent,” Logan manages, still looking around in awe—goodness, there are some books here that he’s only seen in passing— “how—how did you do this?”

“I’ve always had it,” Roman says, guiding him to sit on the window seat and crouching in front of him, “it’s my library.”

“This—this is yours?”

Half of Roman’s mouth tugs up into that crooked smile. “Yeah, Logan. This is mine. You didn’t think I just let my books lie around, did you?”

“But you—you—you’ve never shown this to me. To anyone.”

The smile falters. “Well, no.”

Logan takes a moment to actually look at Roman. Roman quirks his eyebrow as he notices the questioning gaze. His costume is a little less pristine than normal. There’s something slightly different about his expression. And his sword is nowhere to be seen.

“May I—can I ask why not?”

Roman smiles ruefully, glancing over Logan’s shoulder before dropping his gaze to the ground.

“When I need to think,” he says after a moment, “or just…sit for a little, I come here.”

He rests his hand on the seat next to Logan.

“I sit right here, and I think. I look outside into the garden. I watch the clouds. Or I stare at the shelves, and think about the books.”

He gestures behind him.

“Sometimes I’ll see people bustling through them, or characters diving in between pages.” The smile becomes a touch more wistful. “Or I’ll hear water rushing, or wind howling.”

He looks back. Logan’s mouth drops open at the openness of Roman’s expression.

“But mostly,” he finishes in a near whisper, “I just sit. And think. Because I can.”

“…this is your space,” Logan mumbles as he puts it together, “that’s…that’s why you haven’t shown anyone.”

Roman nods.

Logan should apologize. He should apologize and leave. He should never have expected that this would be alright.

But the thought of leaving this library, this house, Roman feels…so, so heavy.

“It’s alright, Logan,” Roman says patiently, sitting on the floor, “what did you need? Am I late for dinner?”

He shakes himself, sternly reminding his brain that he’s being rude now. “No, no, nothing of the sort, I simply needed to find you.”

Roman spreads his arms wide. “Well, you found me. Congratulations.”

It’s so close to the banter Logan misses that he finds himself smiling. “Thank you. Shall I assume to claim my prize now, then?”

“Mm, and what prize would that be?”

Roman blinks up at him expectantly when he doesn’t answer right away. There are several questions on the tip of his tongue and they war with each other.

What’s wrong?

Are you alright?

Did something happen?

The others and I have noticed changes in your behavior, could you explain them?

Did I do something wrong?

Can I stay here?

What did Virgil almost tell me?

“I’ve lost something,” Logan blurts instead, swallowing the lump in his throat when Roman blinks again, startled, “and I need you to help me find it.”

“Oh. Well, that should be easy enough. Where did you last see it?”

“Wait!”

Logan catches a startled Roman by his sleeve as he’s in the middle of getting up. He sits back down slowly, still staring at Logan.

“I don’t know where I lost it,” he says, because it’s the truth. Even for all his immaculate time-keeping, he can’t pinpoint the moment he lost Roman.

“That does make it more difficult,” Roman muses, tapping his fingers on his chin, “well, can you tell me what it is? Maybe I’ve seen it.”

I’m sure you have.

Logan takes a deep breath.

“I didn’t realize it was gone, at first,” he begins, “only that it—something changed. It was quieter. Rooms felt less…I believe ‘alive’ is the only word I can use to adequately describe it.”

Roman catches on to the fact he’s speaking about something abstract quickly. Though, of course he did, he’s very intelligent. He sits up a little straighter and takes Logan’s hand in both of his. That in itself is enough to make Logan swallow again.

“It was more difficult to continue working,” he says after a moment, looking at the ground, “because I didn’t know what was missing. I didn’t know whether the fault lay with myself or with Thomas or how to go about fixing it. I couldn’t think of anything.”

Roman makes a noise of sympathy, squeezing Logan’s hand.

“Of course, once I realized it was missing, I did all I could to find it.” He adjusts his glasses. “I gathered all the information I could to see what had gone wrong.”

“And,” Roman prompts gently, “what did you find?”

“It’s not in my room. It’s not in the kitchen. It’s not in the Imagination, or at least it wasn’t when I was there.”

Logan closes his eyes.

“It doesn’t make me fight back a smile every time I see it, because I am only concerned. It doesn’t make me look forward to seeing it, because it doesn’t seem to be happy to see me. It doesn’t make me want to say how important it is to me, because it doesn’t—“

“…doesn’t what, Logan?”

“…it doesn’t even give me a nickname anymore.”

Roman freezes.

Logan opens his eyes and looks at Roman, seeing his face turn pale.

“I’ve lost the one I love,” he confesses, “and I don’t know where he’s gone.”

———————————————————————

Roman’s heart stops.

Logan—Logan—L—

Logan loves him?

“Please,” Logan says in that soft, soft voice that makes Roman want to combust, “can you help me find him?”

“Wait, wait, Logan, you—you what?”

Logan shifts forward, cupping Roman’s hand. “Where did you go, Roman? Something happened, you left.”

“N-no, Logan, I didn’t go anywhere.”

“You did,” he corrects, “you…you’ve been different. You’ve been quieter, you haven’t taken me on any adventures—“

“I’ve taken you into the Imagination!”

“—and you stopped singing,” Logan finishes. Roman’s chest throbs with the way Logan’s voice cracks on the last word. “You left, Roman, where did you go?”

“I—I was trying to—to—“ Roman swallows heavily. “Wait, you love me?”

Logan blinks, tilting his head. “Of course, yes, I love you, Roman.”

Roman’s face flares. “You can’t—you can’t just say that, Logan.”

“Why not?”

“I’ll believe you. I’ll—“ the urge to bury his face in his hands burns but he can’t, can’t pull away from Logan—“I’ll believe you.”

Logan hums. “And why shouldn’t you believe me?”

An incredulous laugh forces its way out of his throat. “Because you can’t love me.”

He slams his eyes shut as Logan starts to move away. He’s ruined it. He’s ruined so much of his hard work. He’s destroyed it. He’s hurt Logan. How could he?

“And why can’t I love you, Roman?”

He laughs again, though this one might be technically considered a sob. “Because I’m loud! I’m obnoxious, I want to spend all my time daydreaming, I’m so out of touch with the real world, I never want to be serious, I’m—I’m—“

“Passionate,” Logan interrupts quietly, something still cupping his hand, “optimistic. Hardworking.”

Roman huffs. “That’s not special.”

“Intelligent.”

Now he does laugh. “Not compared to you.”

Logan’s stifled noise is enough to make him open his eyes. He frowns up at Logan. He looks…heartbroken.

“Roman,” he murmurs, “do you honestly believe that?”

He squirms uncomfortably on the floor. “…it’s not like it isn’t obvious. El principe es estupido.”

“It’s far from obvious, Roman,” Logan insists, “why do you think I enjoy our verbal sparring so much?”

“You what?”

“I respect and admire your intelligence. You’re—well, not to insult the others when they’re not here to defend themselves, but you’re the only one who really keeps up with me.” Logan smiles at him. He smiles at him. “And you’re kind, Roman. Relentlessly so, sometimes.”

Roman can only gape at him.

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed everything you do,” Logan chides gently, “I do notice. And I am so thankful for it. But this…” He gives Roman’s hand another squeeze. “This I don’t understand. Where did you go, Roman?”

“I—I…” Roman swallows. “I thought I was doing it for you.”

“For me?”

“Y-you like serious things! You don’t want to be seen as a joke and I’ve never seen you as a joke, Logan, you have to believe me, and I thought that—that I—“

“Roman—“

“I make fun of the things I love, Logan!” Roman’s throat almost aches from the strain of saying it out loud. “And you—you don’t like it when we’re not serious and I’m not serious so I—I thought if I—if—if—“

“You changed so I would…love you?”

Roman shakes his head shamefully. “So you would tolerate me.”

“Oh, little star—“

Roman lets out an oof as Logan tugs him forward, his knees hitting the ground roughly as he pulls Roman into a hug. He’s warm, he’s so warm and so Logan…the frames of his glasses are cool against the side of Roman’s face, the knot of his tie pressing into the hollow of his chest. And he’s being so sweet, so tender as he holds Roman on the floor of the library.

Roman clutches him back. It’s been agony, not being able to touch him, not even the barest brush of shoulders or knocking their elbows together. But now Logan is here and he can have this.

“I don’t want serious,” he hears Logan murmur, “not from you. Alright, sometimes, yes, I want you to listen but never to be that serious. You’re—you’re you, Roman. That’s what I want.”

Oh.

He laughs as the tears start to fall onto Logan’s collar. “You found me, Logan.”

Logan just gives him a squeeze. “I did, little star.”

Oh, Roman was not prepared for that. Instead, he can hear Logan chuckle as he tenses for a moment.

“No?”

“Yes,” Roman blurts out quickly, fumbling with his clumsy tongue, “yes. So much yes.”

“Yes, it is then, little star.”

He hums contentedly, burying his nose in the crook of Logan’s neck. “You found me,” he whispers, rocking them back and forth, “and I found you.”

“Yes, little star, you found me.” Logan pulls back to cup his face, a comforting noise escaping him at the evidence of drying tears. “And now…please, don’t leave me?”

“Never, Logan,” he swears, “never again.”

He gets to see that wonderful soft glow on Logan’s face for a moment longer before that gleam—oh, that wonderful gleam—comes back as he arches an eyebrow.

“No? Then why am I still ‘Logan?’”

Oh. So that’s how this is going to go, hmm? Roman lets a little more darkness slip into his smirk than he normally would. It only grows wider as Logan looks a little surprised.

“My dearest darling nerd,” he purrs, “if you wanted me to lavish you with pet names, you know you need only ask.”

“That is not what I meant,” Logan says firmly, undone a little by the blush now fanning his cheeks.

Roman chuckles. “Oh, what’s wrong, my sweet little pi, is this not what you wanted?”

“R-Roman!”

“Goodness, Logan, your face is so warm.” Roman’s arms come up to hug him as he buries his face in his neck. “What, you can dish it out but you can’t take it?”

“You’re one to talk,” comes the slightly muffled reply, “you were blushing from my pet name too.”

“Ah, yes, how could I forget? ‘Little star,’ well…” Roman cups the back of Logan’s neck and brings that darling face back out to smile at. “If I’m the star, then you must be the whole galaxy.”

Logan tries to frown. Bless him, he tries, but he’s so flustered that it turns into this adorable pout as he leans back to get up.

“Oh, no, no, no,” Roman chuckles, wrapping his arms and legs tightly around him, “you stay right here in my lap.”

“Roman!”

“What?” He tilts his head. “Can you think of anywhere better to be than right here, in my lap…with me?”

He can’t help the note of vulnerability that slips in at the end. Maybe Logan doesn’t want this, maybe he is too much, maybe he just ruined it…

“No,” Logan murmurs after a moment, “I guess I can’t.”

And really, it is marvelous, there on the floor, golden sunlight streaming over them, in the library, surrounded by the quiet shelves and safe hallways of the house.

———————————————————————

“I have to ask,” Roman says, giving Logan a little shake after a moment, “how did you…?”

“Find out?”

“Mm.”

“Well…” Logan toys with Roman’s collar. “I was coming to ask you about it anyway, but Virgil—“

“Virgil?” Roman raises an eyebrow. “He said something now, did he?”

Logan squints at him. “…why do I have a feeling there’s more to this than you’re telling me?”

Roman shrugs. “It doesn’t really matter, not really.”

“Now that I don’t believe for an instant.”

“It got me my Logan,” Roman says softly, leaning forward to rub their noses together, “didn’t it?”

“…well yes, I suppose it did.”

Roman hums contentedly, cuddling into Logan like a lazy cat, sprawled out in the sunlight to nuzzle its kitten. A…surprisingly sweet image. The Imagination—Roman’s Imagination must be affecting him.

There are worse fates.

“But I can’t imagine,” he says after a moment, “that a prince such as yourself can allow such a slight?”

The grin on Roman’s face is priceless.

“Virgil,” Roman sings as they fling open the door to the rest of the Mindscape, and goodness Logan can’t tell you how much he’s missed that voice— “I have a question for you!”

Logan hears muffled cursing coming from the living room.

“What’s up, Princey?”

“Well our dearest Specs here just told me something very interesting—“ he winks at Logan— “and I would love to hear your side of the story.”

“Oh, uh, really? Well, that’s cool. On an unrelated note, I’m gonna be in my room for the foreseeable future.”

“Hmmm…not if I get there before you!”

“Shit!”

“My darling,” Roman says softly, pressing a kiss to the back of Logan’s hand, “will you excuse me one moment, please?”

And what is Logan supposed to do but agree? Roman is back.

“I’ll be with you shortly.”

Roman tears off down the hallway after Virgil, their shouts filling the Mindscape once more.

General Taglist:@frxgprince @potereregina @reddstardust @gattonero17 @iamhereforthegayshit @thefingergunsgirl @awkwardandanxiousfander @creative-lampd-liberties @djpurple3 @winterswrandomness @sanders-sides-uncorrect-quotes @iminyourfandom @bullet-tothefeels @full-of-roman-angst-trash @ask-elsalvador @ramdomthingsfrommymind @demoniccheese83 @pattonsandershugs @el-does-photography @princeanxious @firefinch-ember @fandomssaremysoul @im-an-anxious-wreck @crazy-multifandomfangirl @punk-academian-witch @enby-ralsei @unicornssunflowersandstuff @wildhorsewolf @thetruthaboutthesun @stubbornness-and-spite @princedarkandstormv @your-local-fookin-deadmeme @angels-and-dreams @averykedavra @a-ghostlight-for-roman @treasurechestininterweb @cricketanne @aularei @queerly-fluid-fan @compactdiscdraws @cecil-but-gayer @i-am-overly-complicated @annytheseal @alias290 @tranquil-space-ninja @arxticandy @mychemically-imbalanced-romance @whyiask @theaceofcrows @emilythezeldafan @frida0043 @ieatspinalcords @snowyfires @cyanide-violence @oonagh2 @xxpanic-at-the-everywherexx @rabbitsartcorner

#sanders sides #patton sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #roman angst #roman sanders angst #virgil sanders #dragonbabbles #fic #logince

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harveybwabbit92 · 3 years ago

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Invader Zim: Elite Guardians AU Pt. 2

The following is a non-profit fan-based story, Invader ZiM is owned by Jhonen Vasquez and Nickelodeon please support the official release, I gain no profit nor do I own anything other than OCs and whatever spouts from my imagination!

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A another month passed Zim started looking less like wrinkled worm and more like an Irken, Red and Purple were running low on money, Repairing the cruiser was getting more difficult, whenever they fixed something, another thing would break or scavengers would sneak in and take whatever wasn't bolted down, that's when the Elites came to the conclusion that maybe they should look for work. So they started bounty hunting for the local constabulary.

What choice did they have? if they were ever gonna get off this rock and find Cradle 2-117. Bounty hunting was the way to go, The Cruiser was a lost beyond repair, but there were a lot of ships for sale in Meeko; the problem was finding who was willing to sell a ship to them, The citizens were still cold towards them, Again. Neither Red and Purple could understand why? They soon got answer in the most unconventional way, they'd come back from a job, Some nut job thought it was good splice a giant spider with a squid and than super sizing it!

Red was shooting the thing with his Plasma gun while Purple striking it with his photon axe, meanwhile Zim was happily skipping around the battlefield, narrowly missing being crushed or shot at, Red noticed the smeet hopping around. "Zim! get out of the way!" Red dodges a tentacle swinging for him. "You're gonna get hurt!" He barked the smeet just stared at him blankly before smiling "Rwed!" he cheered waving at him, Red facepalmed. "Hi!" he waved back before going back to fighting, Zim went back to his little skipping game dodging death at every corner, only stopping when he saw a large beetle crawling around on the sand, the smeet crouched down just as Purple was thrown off the Squider and sent crashing into the wall behind Zim.

The purple eyed elite sat up with a groan; rubbing his head looked at Zim and did a double take when he saw the smeet eating a beetle, Purple jumped to his feet rushed over to the smeet trying to pry his mouth open. "Naw, no, no. Spit it out, spit out! c'mon!" he lightly slapped Zim's back and the smeet spat up bug guts Purple grimaced. "Disgusting!" he huffed giving the smeet some ration wafers and went back to helping Red fight, Zim calmly sat out of the way to eat and watch his 'Brothers' fight the monster, by the end of the battle Red and Purple were covered in ink and teal colored guts, and their wallets were a good chunk heavier, when they woke up this morning...

Later when they got back to the cruiser both Red felt something was off, there was scent in the air he didn't recognize at first he thought it was the Squider guts, but as they got closer to their wreck... it became more apparent that someone or something was in there, Purple noticed it too he and Red exchanged a look; the red clad elite set Zim down and shush him, the smeet copied him and nodded, Purple dispatched his PAK legs and went in from above while Red followed and hid in the doorway of the engine room, his first thought was it was just another scavenger looking for scrap, but by now everyone nearby knew this ship was occupied and stayed clear of it, Red peeked into the engine room and saw a hooded figure fidgeting around with the power core.

Red's eyes narrowed as he tried to get a better look and saw this person reading off what looked like an engineering manual, he saw Purple getting into position, they could hear this person mumbling to themselves. "Okay... now shut down switch Y and detach port Q?...wait no, um..." the guards looked at each other and nodded, Purple jumped from the ceiling; landing in front of the intruder catching them completely off guard. "What the fu-" they saw the purple eyed Irken reach for a his stunned baton and panicked. "Shite!" they yelped and went to run only to get pistol whipped from behind by Red knocking them out.

Red and Purple were perplexed when they tied them up removed the intruders hood and made sure they didn't have weapons, they've never seen an alien like them before... they had this weird long stringy stuff on their head that was soft to the touch, but stood out out most of all was how tall they were... Both Irkens just barely came up to the intruder's chin. "Whoa! They're almost the same height as Tallest Miyuki!" Purple said stunned while Red shook his head. "No... Miyuki is definitely taller..." he insisted but then again they haven't seen Tallest Miyuki in months! So they couldn't exactly make a comparison.

While the two were prattled about Miyuki and the intruder's heights, neither noticed Zim wander in the smeet looked between the bickering Elites before noticing the stranger sitting against the wall. His pink eyes lit up as he curiously approached the unconscious alien, He saw the long fuzzy stuff on their head and immediately grabbed it and started tugging which roused the trespasser awake.

Red and Purple tenses at the unknown voice cut into their conversation they looked and saw Zim swinging off the alien's... mane? "Ow..ow! quit it! They try to jerked their head away from Zim's grasp. "Oww, Seriously kid stop it!" They growled Red snapped out of his stupor and quickly picked up Zim. "Don't talk to him like that!" He spat glaring at the intruder, who glared back their e/c eyes looked odd too, but Red was more focused on whether or not they were a threat or not.

"Who are you? What are you?" he huffed along with Purple butting in. "And why do you want our power core?" the alien winced a the purple one's shrill voice. " if I tell you will you untie me?" they asked hopeful, the Irkens were silent, and the intruder took their silence as a hard "maybe."

"My name is Y/n, I’m a human female, My ship crashed few clicks north from here, the power core was always little spotty, and it finally gave up the ghost. So I went out looking for a replacement, looked around Meeko and other crash sites, before finding a power signal that lead me to... I thought it was it was a derelict ship!"

"Does this ship derelict look to you?!"

"Well... yeah? I mean look around, your ship is in pieces! it'll obviously never fly again, I'm surprised your core was even intact!"

"How did you even get in? we have security measures!"

Y/n looked bemused before something clicked in her head, she cocked her head towards the front of the ship. "Oh! the giant hole in your hull, with the lasers and forcefield? yeah, I think your motion sensors and hard light generator is offline, I walked right through it" Purple looked like he was going to cry seeing as he was the one who rigged that forcefield up. " that and your front door was wi... was.." Your voice suddenly trailed off, Red and Purple watched your demeanor change as something caught your eye, it took a moment for Red to notice you were staring at the Irken symbol on their armor.

"Shite... You slaver scum!" both Irkens jumped back startled by your sudden outburst. "What are you planning to do with that kid?! huh? did you kidnap him too?" You growled Red and Purple looked at each other stunned. "What are you talking about?" Red asked you just glared him in disgust. "Don't play fucking coy with me! I’ve seen your damn ship going around ransacking outposts around the system and kidnapping people!" Red and Purple were at loss here, 2-117 was overtaken by Slavers? well, at least now they knew why almost everyone on Greedo was so hostile towards them!

There was a tense stare down between the trio, You watched as the two "slavers" got into a huddle, you heard the numbers "2-117..." being mumbled then Red one was saying something the Purple one disagreed with. "No, oh no no no! We're not taking in another stray!" the purple hissed vehemently. "She's the our ticket off this rock, we're doing it!" They turned to look at you.

"What?" you hissed as the Red clad alien silently handed the kid over to his Purple counterpart who glared at him, you tensed up as he walked up to you. "Calm down and just listen alright?" Red guy explained they’re not slavers, but Elite guards from Irk sent to investigate and retrieve a missing Nursery ship called Cradle 2-117 that had been skyjacked a few months ago, the only lead they have is Zim, who Red found malnourished and wandering around in a trash dump.... Now you.

You of course were bit skeptical about this whole situation, what with being tied up and all! but, then Purple told you to take a good look at Zim, the kid was same species as them: Irken. "How many other Irkens have you seen wandering the Tarn system?" You realized never, you have never seen an Irken in Tarn before, so maybe they were telling the truth? then Purple got you attention again "Where was the last place you saw that ship?" You paused thing back to were you saw the Irken ship, it wasn’t hard to forget considering how unique it looked.

"I think it was headed to Planet Nyree? that’s a two week journey from here." Both Irken elites looked each other hopeful, finally a real lead! "However I'd suggest getting a new ship, I don’t think this one will taking off anytime soon." They hear the ship groan as a panel falls out of the ceiling, landing a little too close to you then you'd like, Red looks at Purple whose shoulders slumped, knowing what was coming, You were confused as Red reach around behind you and untied you. "Okay! New plan, we need a ship and you need a power core, let’s make a deal..." and that's how you gained three new crew members aboard the Cardinal.

#invader zim #invader zim x reader #the almighty tallest #the tallest x reader #smeet zim #tallest red #tallest purple #tallest miyuki #tallest red x reader #tallest purple x reader #irken elite #elite guardians au

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noonmutter · 3 years ago

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Introductions

Daily Writing Challenge 2021 Day 12: Ball/Gravestone

"It's gonna be a quiet meetin'. They're not...th' most talkative people, these days."

"No, I know, love, of course. I absolutely still want to do this. You're so brave for this and I'm so proud of you."

Leon couldn't hold in a chuckle at that. Valarin's open, whole-hearted support of him for what was, admittedly, a trip that Leon had made dozens of times by now was all but impossible to ignore. The reassurance wasn’t necessary, but he wasn’t about to ruin Val’s fun. He simply set a hand on his wee love's shoulder to momentarily silence him, and bent to kiss his forehead.

"Thank you, love. It's okay. I'm not gonna collapse, it's just...a li'l tense, sometimes. Bringin' somebody new..." He let himself trail off as he inspected the kit they'd brought with them. Valarin had brought the supplies for their lunch, and he'd brought a bag of gardening tools, along with a couple bouquets of marigolds at Val's insistence. Asking about the marigolds had opened up the floodgates, not that he minded; listening to Valarin get himself going about something he was passionate about was one of Leon’s favorite things.

"The marigolds are traditionally very important! You see, the land of the living can be confusing and difficult to navigate for spirits. We try to help them by providing strong sensory things to guide them. The marigolds have a strong smell, but I think their color is quite strong too! And the candles are a little lighthouse..."

The flowers had been a bit of a trick to avoid crushing once they'd left the road that would've led them across the border into Stranglethorn, but they'd managed. He still wasn't sure if mum and dad would actually like the marigolds, but he understood the importance of it being this specific kind of flower, now. It was both like and unlike the little ceremonies the Gilnean was familiar with.

"This is such a lovely area, too. I’m honestly so excited to see where your parents rest. I’ve not really seen many human gravesites. I’m interested to see how similar they are. I’d like to learn about Gilnean customs regarding it. I know that the Day of the Dead is more widespread now, so I’m sure your parents will enjoy the offerings all the same. And--Hey, are you doing okay? You’ve been a little quiet."

Leon paused, then gave a short shake of his head. "Just tryna make sure we don't get lost, hey?" It was a lame excuse for letting his mind wander, but Val let it pass, since they were tromping through an awful lot of dense foliage. Valarin was aware there was a moonwell not all that far from where they wandered, and though there was a ceasefire, it was still Alliance territory and he was still visibly not a night elf. The tension wasn't really there like it'd been during their trip to Aerie Peak, though; they were alone and nowhere near a proper settlement.

He almost asked another question before Leon stopped, pointed at a small cluster of bright purple blooms hugging the forest floor, and said, "We're 'ere." It was hard not to get excited all over again, but he wanted to be respectful of Leon's feelings, so he kept himself from squeaking and simply gave Leon his best 'I'm here for you' smile. Leon answered it with another kiss on his forehead. Val liked those kisses, even if they were usually Leon filling in a silence when he couldn't figure out what to say.

He watched Leon pull a ton of vines and push a ton of branches aside like a very sturdy set of curtains, and after a moment, rushed to assist. Together, they opened up a relatively worn footpath to a small clearing. Val couldn't help but gasp softly at the sight; it seemed like every square inch of the ground was covered in lilacs! Little purple flowers were everywhere, and the scent was almost overwhelming. Butterflies fluttered from blossom to blossom in every direction, and small clouds of them seemed to erupt every time he or Leon took a step. He found himself tiptoeing to try and avoid crushing anything almost immediately.

"Oh, Light, it's absolutely beautiful, Leon. You did this?" The thought was enough to bring tears to his eyes, but he tried not to let it, at least not yet. He knew he'd do plenty of crying before the day was out and he'd really rather not start again so soon. It was a little embarrassing, even if Leon said it wasn't. Just focus on not snagging your pants on anything, Valarin…

"Well, I mean, th' flowers did it on their own, mostly... flowers do tha'..." Leon looked sheepish as he deflected praise, "All I did was plant a couple an' leave 'em be. Lilacs 're 'ardy, easy thin's. Part o' why mum liked 'em so much." The Gilnean made his way carefully but quickly through the dense growth, well used to the path he took and not worrying overmuch about whether he was stomping flowers or butterflies; the flowers were going to be cut back anyway, and the butterflies were quicker than he was. Reaching the apparent edge of the clearing, Leon bent to set his hand on a particularly tall lilac bush, then abruptly tore away a few branches to reveal the carved wooden grave marker underneath it.

It was not a professional job, this marker, but it had definitely been a work of diligence and a high degree of effort. It was sanded down to a nearly glasslike smoothness, and it would probably shine like it once it was cleaned up. The uneven top edge of it suggested it had originally been a chunk of driftwood, but it’d been stained so dark that it was hard to be sure. Valarin was privately glad he’d gotten better at reading Common lettering; hand-carved stuff like this was a little tricky. “Bettany Marie Ambroce” caught a bit of light and practically glowed.

“Right. ‘Ere we are, then.”

“Oh, Leon,” Valarin said, “This is so lovely. This is your mother?” He knelt down beside the wood and brushed his fingertips over the lettering. “Hello, Missus Ambroce. I’m happy to meet you.”

“Yeah.” Leon didn’t really know how else to answer, but felt like that was woefully insufficient. “This’s mum.” Okay that was almost less helpful. He brushed his fingers along the lettering in much the same way Valarin had, mulling over a few things before he settled on a simple, “...You r’member Val’rin, right? I’ve talked about ‘im b’fore…” He risked a glance at his little love, offering a weak smile. “Only th’ good stuff, though. Promise.”

“It better have been!” Val flashed a playful grin and tossed his hair. “I am a perfect angel, after all.”

Chuckling, Leon set down the bag of tools and took out a pair of hedge trimmers, offering them to Valarin. “I’ll take care o’ th’ bigger messes, you clear out th’ stuff all over th’ ground, okay?”

“Wait, are we doing this entire clearing?”

“Course. Otherwise th’ lilacs’ll grow way too far an’ get completely outta control. It’s already bad enough cuz I waited longer’n I should’ve, I norm’ly come by ev’ry month or so.”

Valarin looked out across the small expanse of purple with a tiny bit less wonderment than he had the first time. This was a bit more work than he’d realized, but, he had to admit to himself, Leon had warned him. And he was bound and determined to help, regardless, so! Nothing for it but to roll up his sleeves and get to work. Leon had to restrain himself from grinning at the look of almost militant determination that Val got before he started clipping away.

“Cheer up, at least y’ don’t ‘ave t’ make it look pretty, too, hey?” He waggled his own pair of much smaller clippers, and gestured toward the high-piled bushes covering the pair of markers. “I’ll prune these down an’ then we’ll both tackle th’ rest of ‘em. It only takes about an hour if there’s two of us.”

“Isn’t this a bit much?”

“‘Ow d’you mean?”

“Well I’m going to end up killing most of these by cutting them back all…all willy-nilly, aren’t I?”

“Sure, but tha’s kinna th’ point. They can’t all keep growin’ or they’ll overtake more’n th’ forest kin afford, see? S’why I come back an’ clean it up at all. Can’t just plant whatever, wherever, or it throws th’ ‘ole balance outta whack. I’d be a worse druid than I already am if I just planted a bush an’ left it.”

“You are not a bad druid!”

Laughing, Leon pruned away, and Valarin attacked the rest of the lilacs with gusto.

Once they were roughly halfway through the clearing as a whole, Leon mercifully called for a break. Valarin was not at all accustomed to Leon in work mode, at least not like this; he knew the man could get lost in his leatherwork for hours, but that wasn’t quite so physically demanding as this. It was impressive, if a bit exhausting to keep up with.

They both sat down with a satisfied sigh, and Leon stretched his legs in the much more visible grass by the cleaned-up gravestones. Once properly polished, the lettering on both gleamed like it had been painted with gold:

Bettany Marie Ambroce Beloved wife and mother I’ll take it from here

Graeme Iain Ambroce Beloved husband and father I’ve got this

“Dad would’ve liked you, y’know.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah. Anybody ‘o kin keep up with an Ambroce’s bullshit is worth keepin’ an eye on, somethin’ like that.” Leon chuckled with a subdued smile, thinking back on various times when he’d heard that. Naturally, Graeme had been talking about his own wife, but still. It had merit. “‘Especially th’ wee ones.’ Mum was about yer ‘eight, I think.”

Valarin’s ears went back just a little. “I’m not that wee.” After a moment, though, he let himself chuckle, too. “Although I suppose it’s still a compliment. You said he was a mountain, anyway.”

That made Leon laugh, and he threw his arms out wide. “Oh yeah, an absolute fuckin’ behemoth, was dad. ‘E wrestled with steer at th’ yearly fairs, sometimes, an’...”

As much as Leon enjoyed listening to Valarin give impromptu dissertations, Valarin loved listening to Leon tell stories of his family and his home. Knowing that he’d never get to see either of them the way his boyfriend did, he clung to every word to try his best to imagine it, and let the farmboy ramble as long as he was willing to. He only dared to interrupt long enough to break out their picnic, which thankfully didn’t stop the flood at all.

Once they’d eaten and Leon had run out of tales to tell--some of which Valarin was sure had to be at least exaggerated, if not totally made up, but he couldn’t for the life of him figure out which ones--they’d gotten back to work. It was almost agony to start over again, since they’d had enough time for their hands to start hurting. That only seemed to spur them to get done quicker so that they were able to put the tools away after what felt like no time at all.

While Leon was raking the detritus into a corner of the clearing, Valarin set to work by the markers.

First, Valarin set up a small collapsible bed tray in front of the markers themselves, and covered it with a white cloth. He set out a few candles and arranged the marigolds all around what would become their ofrenda. Upon the tray he left portions of the favored foods they had brought; raspberry tarts, beef pasties, fried taters, all sorts of things. Though they had no pictures of the deceased--Leon couldn’t bring himself to risk losing the only image he had of his entire family--it was the thought that counted for this.

Obviously, Leon wanted to help, but he also didn’t want to do things wrong (despite Valarin’s many and constant reminders that there was no wrong way to arrange an ofrenda), so he hung back until it was almost finished. At Valarin’s urging, Leon took up a long match, and they each lit a candle at the same time, one for each parent. Finally, a small bundle of marigold petals was pressed into Leon’s hands, and he awkwardly scattered them in a rough line from the ofrenda to the graves themselves. Valarin had already made one out of the clearing itself, and with Leon’s contribution, there was a complete path.

When he returned to Val’s side, Val immediately curled both arms around his waist and tugged him down till they were both seated in the grass before the ofrenda. There, Val could finally get the cuddles he so cherished. Leon smiled softly and dragged the insistent thing into his lap, the better to hug him close and rest his chin on top of Val’s head.

“So… what ‘appens now?”

“Now, you tell me more stories about them, and cuddle me, and I’ll tell you stories about mine, and cuddle you.”

“All night?”

“All night.”

“I think I kin do tha’.”

Though they couldn’t leave everything behind, the next morning, a pair of marigold-and-lilac wreaths hung from the wooden gravestones.

( @daily-writing-challenge @valarin-sunstorm )

#my writing #leon #valarin #valeon #mum and dad #collab #writing valarin in full Explain Mode is HARD so the mun helped :D #dwc

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funkin-news · 3 years ago

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ninjamuffin ama summary - 9/28/2021

you know the drill, purple text is me paraphrasing, everything else is direct (or almost direct) quote, FNF-related stuff only

Q: What is one common misconception about FNF or its development that you wanna clear up?

A: im not the sole creator, im not some sole director. Each of the boys have very important roles with the game. This isn't just 1 dude having tunnel vision about a game, its generally all us coming to similar conclusions on where we want to take the game and what we wanna do wit it

Q: why

A: because I love video games and I love newgrounds

Q: Do you or the team plan to go back and make the older weeks higher quality?

A: that will definitely happen. both for general polish, and things leading up into future weeks / story or whatever

Q: Why did everyone think Week 8 was gonna come out on the 22nd?

A: accidental "teases" (Dave's MC-related doodle), madness day, general anxiousness bc the devs haven't been sharing much

Q: What kind of QOL changes are being added in the future?

A: charting editor improvements is one

Q: What is the most insane, most likely impossible to happen person you would like to collaborate with, could be Funkin related, could be just a personal project

A: the girl reading this

Q: Is Cassette Girl week 8?

A: no

Q: Is there concept art for the characters, or did they look the same during development?

A: GF looks exactly the same as the first ever drawing PhantomArcade did. There's a few small lil variations for a good chunk the other MAIN characters, one day u will see all them

R: can you explain the old bf icon? or is it just a dumb placeholder?

A: just a cool ass lil icon evilsk8r did during the game jam weekend

Q: Are you letting yourself getting inspired by more different genres of music for future weeks?

A: i think that more a Q for kawaisprite, but that man loves music, and can and does get inspired by anything he listens to in regards to music

Q: Why has the team been so silent about update progress?

A: They do better working in silence than hyping things up; when Week 6 was teased working on it became really stressful for them. Also, element of surprise

R: but youve been silent abt week7 on desktop for months, half a year. & week 8 is like….. nonexistant

A: week 8 isnt nonexistant, we just absolutely do not want to talk about it whatsoever. i said all the week 7 stuff will come with week 8 update

Q: what do you genuinely think about the people thinking you guys scammed people out of $2 million? just curious is all, i’ve seen lots of people talking about it rn

A: i think people are a bit wary about kickstarter, and makes sense when people's coin is on the line. if u want a breakdown of what we used KS coin so far, we spent maybe 2K of it on some development stuff we needed, most other expenses been paid from our savings / donations, etc.

Q: When does the OST come to the backers?

A: Kickstarter vinyl OSTs still need to be manufactured, which would take at least 6 months because of a global PVC shortage, completely out of our control. what is in our control is that we also still need to finish up and finalize artwork for it, the boys wanna make it all perfect. Same goes for CDs, but those should be done way sooner

Q: You got a date range of when Tshirt / Poster / or Pin surveys will be out by any chance? 👀

A: kickstarter tshirts / poster / pin stuff have been coming along nicely and hopefully those surveys should be coming soon, prob next few weeks

Q: Do you guys think you'll experiment with other artstyles in future weeks?

A: yes, cuz we've already done that (week 6) theres a lot more where that came from

Q: if you could isolate one part of the game and say it’s your favorite what would it be

A: the fact that FNF is our pure creative vision, with absolutely nothing getting in the way of that. Open source free Newgrounds rhythm game with crazy zany kawaisprite music, and stylish and charismatic animation and art style. and game been successful because of all of that.

Q: what do you think about people compiling the full ass game and playing it without paying anything

A: that makes me happy

Q: what do you think of all the mods and stuff people has made about your game

A: mods make me happy

Q: any inspiration from doki doki literature club for the weird stuff in week 6?

A: no, but some of the cool lil programming things DDLC did do interest me

Q: How do we know you're working on the game

A: you don't, and really it doesnt matter all too much. we being productive and things are moving forward, and people not believing that doesnt change that

And now, a speech:

i think trying to focus on keeping hype and keeping game popular can very easily be hollow. We have no worry about trying to keep hype or relevancy or anything like that. If FNF popularity shrunk to 0.1% of it's size, we'd be content, cuz that's still like 1000% more than before

"before" referring to anything we did before FNF.

you can lose success just as easily as you got it, and for FNF, it got successful INCREDIBLEY fast. With that in mind, it's just the nature of things if it all loses relevancy.

So far FNF doing good through the year, but if it wasn't, it's no real sweat off our back.

Although it's uhhh easy to look at it that way from our perspective. Get back to me and see if my thoughts on this has changed if FNF is forgotten from all memory.

Q: will there be a sequel to the full ass game? Like 'the full a2s game' or something clever like fast & furious movies do

A: friday night funkin: tokyo drift

#fnf #friday night funkin #fridaynightfunkin #ninjamuffin99 ama #og funkin news

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project-pnf-404 · 4 years ago

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Checkpoint and important updates 2!!: Electric boogaloo!!

Heyo guys!! Long time no talk. So, I’ve got some cool update stuff to show you guys. I’ve been doing a lot of blog “housekeeping” since the end of the last event. (don’t worry it hopefully won’t be boring update stuff lmao as it includes some new supplementary content). So, first and foremost, thanks to the inspiration from @koppais-smallest-nerd I’d like to let you guys know that I am now adding screen reader access to all future posts!!! This one included. At the bottom of each post under the, “read more”, image descriptions for all images will be added! Screen reader accessibility will also be added to all previous asks on the blog. However, getting through all of them will take a tiny bit. As, of this update, the first 4 asks have had image descriptions added. As well as all the supplementary content in between where applicable.

I’d also like to show you guys some supplementary content for the blog. Between these dashed lines are in character day 1 log entries written by the rest of the crew.

———————————————

I originally wasn’t sure if I wanted to put these extra day 1 logs on the main blog or not. But, I’ve decided that all supplementary content that may be story related will remain on the main blog for the foreseeable future, while BTS content will end up on PNF-404-Plus.

That being said since the end of the 1st event and my time away from the blog a lot has been going on when it comes to the blog.

For one the entire desktop version of the blog has had a large overhaul. A new theme has been added to the main page.

But, not only that but new side pages with supplementary content have been added!! This includes an event list, a bio page for the crew members of the S.S Drake, a Piklopedia page for the new Piklopedia, and a music page to top it all off!!

The Event List will show each new event as they are added! You can click on the current known events to go directly to all posts tagged with that event tag. Speaking of which all Event 01 posts have now had their tags updated with the Event 01 tag making it much easier to navigate.

The new Crew Members page has bios for all the members currently on the mission or known in the story so far! These Bios are pretty in line with cannon with some fanon, and light headcanon added in for good measure. I recommend taking a look as it does have some interesting info in there. Also quick note: all of these bios are written as if it is prior to the beginning of the blog.

Then there’s the Piklopedia!! Here you can read each of their findings as they explore PNF-404! Currently the findings will be on each area they explore (not each creature they find) as they haven’t found any new creatures yet. There is also a map of places they’ve discovered and more!

Lastly, a new music page has been added. On this page, I’ve created event-inspired music playlists. Some of the songs have been mentioned in the past. But, here you can listen to them all in one place and see which songs are for which part of the events. As well there’s a secret songs playlist. This playlist has nothing to do with the blog directly but is filled with music given to me by people I’ve met from this community while I’ve been here!! Currently, there are 5 songs there, however, there will be more added in the future! What makes it secret is that you won’t know who gave me the song XD. (well unless you’re the one who gave me the song lmao) who knows if you’ve ever shared music with me before you may find your song there!! (There is also one song I’m sharing with you guys in there too so have fun figuring that out lmao. )

As well the table of contents has been once again updated with a lot of this new stuff as well as some other new information!! As for mobile users as of now, all of this is on separate Tumblr pages. However, in the near future, I will be uploading much of this stuff , such as the Piklopedia entries and Crew Bio’s, as individual posts! However, in the meantime, if you feel like you can always check out these pages on your phone browser instead if you’re a mobile-exclusive user. (Though some pages don’t look as good on phone)

Welp, I think that’s it as far as updates go!! I should be back with brand new ask posts soon (likely within the next week or so!) so keep a look out!! I’ll see ya guys again soon and thanks for reading!!!

In the first image, Alph’s Day 1 Log entry is shown. His log says, “To think I thought the first day would go well. Then again I didn’t think I would get sucked out of the ship either so maybe I should stop being so surprised. At the very least Louie and I were able to find our way back despite some obstacles and I was able to fix the ship in time. Though if it weren’t for Chunks we would have never found the pikmin we did. That little guy sure saved the day.

However, Then there's what happened to Brittany… To see her in a situation like that... I can’t even bear to think about it. Tomorrow I will be checking over the entirety of the Drake to make sure a crash like that doesn't happen again. I can't help but think that the crash was due to me overlooking something during maintenance... However, The only thing I can do now is to make sure something like this never happens again for all our sake, especially Brittanys’. “ It is then sighed by Alph

In the second Image Charlies Day 1 Log entry can be read it says, “I should have been on top of things. As this crew’s captain, everything that went wrong was under my watch and things should have gone much smoother. That being said I am very glad that all of my crew have made it out alive. Though I am still worried about Brittany. If only I was able to keep her safe…

But, at this point, we all must press forward. We have a task to complete and after seeing how devastated some areas are, we must get to the bottom of what’s wrong with PNF-404. Nothing will get in my way, not with my steely fists that is!!” It is then signed by Charlie

In the third image Louies’ day 1 log entry can be seen it says,

“

Going back to the pikmin planet wasn’t at the top of my list of things I thought I’d be doing anytime soon. Yet somehow I find myself back here and stranded again…. At least I wasn’t fully alone this time…

Alph and I eventually found a pikmin that we later named Chunks. He sure acts differently in comparison to any other Pikmin I’ve seen before. But, even still, if it weren’t for Chunks, we wouldn’t have been able to help Brittany or find any other pikmin for that matter. So, we should thank him for that.” It is then signed by Louie

In the fourth image the updated version of the Project: PNF-404 Tumblr is shown. It now has a bright cyan futuristic aesthetic to it. In the fifth image a picture of the new events page, listing all the past and future events planned so far is shown. It has 1 known event Titled Event 01. The other 3 are titled Event unknown. In the sixth image, the new crew members’ character page is shown. A picture of Olimar is shown along with a description of his traits and a biography. It reads as follows,

CAPTAIN OLIMAR

AGE 38

ALIAS(ES)Olimar

SPECIES Hocotatian

GENDER Male

TITLE(S) Employee of Hocotate Freight, Xenobiologist

AFFILIATION Hocotate Freight, Planet Hocotate Government

Fatherly, well-meaning, and resourceful, for an almost 40 year old Hocotatian he has a lot of bravery and guts. Olimar first and foremost loves his family and cares deeply for others around him. A Hardworking employee of Hocotate Freight and family man, Olimar tends to try and stay level-headed while looking out for others.

Having been one of the first to visit the Pikmin planet Olimar has extensive knowledge of the planet's life. Lucky for him he just so happens to have gone to college for xenobiology. Many of his findings can be found within his many log entries known as the Piklopedia.

But, for as much as Olimar tends to be on top of things, his trips to the pikmin planet have had him face many dangers and life-threatening events. Though these issues are not something he brings up…

In the seventh image, The new Piklopidea page is shown, In one section it displays a map of PNF-404 with 2 marked locations. The first of which is highlighted in blue is named the “Silent Stream” the second, is highlighted in orange, Its title is “Glacial Gardens”. To the right of that is a description introduction for the Piklopedia. It says” To help ensure the progress and success of this mission all crew members must write down their findings in this log. Overview:

CAPTAIN Olimar: Writes In-depth biological analysis of fauna and how the ecosystem affects said fauna.

LOUIE: Writes about Recipes and ingredients that can be found in each area. ALPH: Looks at the area with the eyes of an engineer. He uses this insight to discuss the benefits and flaws of what he’s analyzing. BRITTANY: Uses her botanist skills to look into the flora of the area along with talking about the aesthetics of things and adding in her own general opinions.

CAPTAIN CHARLIE: Writes about combat strategy and how one can use the environment in an area for a tactical advantage.

To the left is a map showing the current locations discovered by the crew. The one highlighted in orange has yet to be explored.

The final image shows the new music page! 6 playlists can be selected on the left each having 5 songs. To the right is an image of the event 01 cover art. With (from left to right), Brittnay, Charlie, Olimar, Louie, and Alph all looking up with a distressed expression on their faces.

END ID

#pikmin #supplementary content #alph #louie #charlie #ooc #Event 01 #not an ask #update #man why are my posts always so long XD #I’m writing most of this in the middle of the night I’m really tired #tomorrow imma look at this and be like what the heck did I write lmao

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nine-fingered-entity · 2 years ago

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Persona 5 Royal thoughts as of 10/10 (ish) in-game. I’ve beat regular p5 twice and know some p5r-specific spoilers already, but none of the finer details. Spoilers below cut.

Kasumi’s palace fit did her dirty. I’m sorry. It’s oversexualized for no reason and just boring and ugly. Come on. I’m not entirely sure about her as a character (I think I’m liking how she’s been written, but it really depends on the ending) but that costume sucks. Offended on her behalf.

I found out on reddit through some random post like halfway through in-game September that in order to get the 3rd semester stuff you had to max Maruki. I had him at like… 3. Been scrambling, but I believe I’ll make it. Barely. Yikes though, because if I hadn’t seen that post there’s no way, and I would have wasted like 70 hours on this playthrough. Would have sucked. I mean it makes sense to have it like that, but…

Speaking of Maruki, calling it now: his ex-gf is actually dead. I am prepared to bet physical cash on this.

Mystery palace is def Maruki, which I did already know in advance but still. The vibe in there is so rancid. It reminds me of like how I saw hospitals as a kid, places with good intentions that didn’t listen to me. I am so excited for third semester and going further into that place. Think its a super interesting take on distorted desires.

No wonder all the tumblr girlies are wild about this man. I get it. He’s interesting! Thought-provoking! Weird!

Akechi confidant arc: dude. No words.

The showtimes are so silly and dumb I love them its adorable. Yusuke’s and Ryuji’s is my favorite as of now. It’s delightful.

Also weirdly a huge fan of the darts minigame.

The Okumura boss fight is by far the worst in this game. It would be fine, but I don’t do gaming well under time pressure. At all. Hated it. Least favorite palace and arc in the game, but its done and I’m moving onto greener pastures. (For me. Not for Joker.)

I am not getting into the Morgana vs Ryuji discourse that i know exists, especially because I think the whole thing is clunky writing, but Morgana does spend a big chunk of early game just shitting on Ryuji, so I have little sympathy for that aspect of the drama. Maybe it's because I have siblings and that's what we did, but you can't just dish it out for months and not take it in return. And if these insults are hitting a particular sore spot, it is your responsibility to tell someone. If they don't fix it, then yeah, they suck. Anyways. I'm done. Moving on.

Uh. New music banger.

#p5r #it was this post or annoy my brother about it again or diary

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thoushallnotfall · 4 years ago

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God Bless the Children of the Beast - Part 8

Previous // Masterlist

Pairing: The Dirt!Tommy Lee x Reader

Word Count: 3.1k

Notes: Ugh, this one was a chore. I had to rewrite a chunk of it since I changed my mind about some stuff…it was a whole thing.

I am playing chess with so many plot elements right now and some of them are like so freaking long game; like hang with me this is gonna be one of those updates that makes sense 8 updates later. Like I am laying the ground work for the bigger picture I swear it’s all relevant and my narrative choices will make sense later. (probably)

1984 is almost over… 🙃

Warnings: N/A (I don’t think anything majorly bad happens in this update?? So used to them at least doing drugs…)

1984

After your fight with Nikki, the atmosphere on the set of the video shoot had been less than stellar. It’s a wonder you all had managed to finish filming at all.

You were angry at Nikki for what he’d done and for putting you in an awkward position with Tommy, and in turn Nikki was trying to avoid you as much as possible. Then, you felt guilty about keeping the whole thing a secret from Tommy, which made you feel awkward around him; so it was easier for you to just try and avoid him all together if you could.

Tommy was trying to calm Roxy down after meeting his parents, and he was kind of pissed at you for laughing at the whole ‘groupie’ comment his mother had made. Normally you’d be upset about this, but it actually worked out in your favor, since you were trying to avoid him anyway. Still, how long could you keep this up? How long could you keep your distance from your best friend? How long could you lie to him, even if you knew it was for his own good?

The shoot done, you’d all retreated back to the hotel. After a long, hot shower, you called Razzle. You talked to him most nights now; some days it was only a few minutes, just to check in, see how the tour was going, make sure everyone was doing okay before he and his boys went out to party and you and yours did the same. Other times, the two of you stayed on the phone for hours, talking through the night. You had seen the long-distance bills from the hotels when you helped Doc with the paperwork–they were outrageous; but you didn’t care. It was worth it.

You had debated whether you should tell him about what was going on with you and Nikki, just so you could get it off your chest. Normally, if you had an issue like this, you would go straight to Tommy, or in the past Nikki; the fact that they were both at the center of the problem meant you had no one else to turn to. You could talk to Vince or Mick–under normal circumstances you would trust them enough to confide in them, but this issue was delicate; what if something happens and they accidentally told Tommy? You couldn’t risk anyone else close to you finding out and telling him. But then trusting someone new was, for lack of a better word–scary–and you weren’t sure if you were ready to put that level of trust in Razzle yet.

When you called him, you hadn’t really planned on telling him; you were just going to have a normal conversation. But he’d picked up on it immediately; he could tell something was wrong just by the tone of your voice. When he asked you about it, you realized you wanted to trust him, and you decided to take a chance and open up to him.

It felt good to talk. Not just to tell him about the situation, but to tell him how you felt about it. Razzle listened, telling you he honestly wasn’t sure what the right thing to do was, but that he was there for you, and you only had to call if you ever needed anything. Just listening was enough; just being there was enough.

And you really did love him for that.

—

After the shoot, there had been a noticable change in the dynamic of your group. No one wanted to talk about it, but the difference was obvious. You could barely stand to be around Nikki; between your anger at his actions with Roxie and his increasingly rude and inconsiderate behavior towards everyone, you found yourself fighting with him more and more each day.

Then there was Tommy. He and Roxie broke up, so that was one problem solved; but just like he always did after a breakup he was extra clingy with you now that she was gone. He wanted to hang out all the time, and that had caused some problems. For starters, while Roxie may be gone, you were still dealing with the weight of the her secret sex with Nikki, and knowing about it made being around Tommy awkward for you. You tried to suck it up and act like nothing was wrong, but it was obvious something was on your mind, and you wished Tommy would just give you some space so you had more time to process everything.

Then, there was the other issue that had come up between you. You had made it clear to Tommy you needed some time to yourself every once and awhile, and he seemed to agree, in theory. Then, in practice, would still bug you whenever he felt like it. Sometimes, he came to bother you in the middle of your phonecalls with Razzle. The few times this had happened, things had not gone well.

Tommy would insist you hang up and spend time with him. You would of course tell him no, saying you would hang out with him later. Usually, he would leave, pouting like a child. Later, he would spend the whole time complaining about Razzle; which annoyed you to no end–and you made sure to tell him so. That would only pissed him off more, and you two of you would both leave angry.

The last time he came in while you were on the phone, he’d been high, or drunk–or both–and when you refused to hang up he’d come over and done it for you. You’d gotten into a huge argument–something that had never happened before–and you made him leave, locking him out of your room.

Ever since your fight, Tommy had been walking on eggshells around you. He knew he’d fucked up, but he didn’t know how to fix it. You knew he couldn’t do anything; he’d apologized, but you were still upset. You just wanted to get away from all the drama–from Tommy, from Nikki–where you could relax and you didn’t have to worry if someone was going to yell at you for something or if you were going to get into another argument.

You weren’t essential to the band, it had occurred to you that maybe you could just go home for a week or two; take a little break? The guys wouldn’t love that idea, but no one could argue that things weren't strained right now. You could use some time apart. You hadn’t been away from them since they’d become a band–you’d all been living together the whole three years since they’d formed Motley Crue. It would be strange to be away from them after being together for so long, but then again some distance was starting to seem like exactly what you needed. And they do say absence makes the heart grow fonder; maybe taking some time apart would help heal the rifts forming in your most important relationships. Even if you didn’t love the idea of being alone, it would be worth it to get away for awhile.

As you drop your bags in yet another empty hotel room, you spot the phone on the nightstand, and an idea suddenly occurs to you. A crazy idea; maybe a great idea, or maybe a totally stupid one. Either way, the boys will absolutely hate it.

You pick up the phone, dialing the number and giving instructions to the receptionist on the other end as you sit on your bed.

“'ello beautiful.” Razzle greets you, and you smile.

“Hey Nic, how’s it going?” You ask, twirling the spiral cord around your finger.

“No' too bad; the boys and I jus' go' back.” He answer.

“Oh, that’s good.” You say, biting your lip, unsure of how to proceed.

“Is everythin' awlrigh'? You sound upset again.” He asks. “More trouble wif your brofa? Or is it Tommy this time?” You sigh, grateful he brought it up so you didn’t have to.

“Um, well I mean yeah, sort of, but, that’s actually not what I called about.” You say.

“Oh?” He asks. “Do tell.” You take a deep breath.

“I was wondering what you would think about me maybe coming to stay with you?” You ask, nervous. “Just for a little while.” You add hastily at the end.

“You wan' to come wif me? On tou'a?” He asks, clearly surprised.

“Yeah; I, I mean if you and the band don’t mind.” You reply.

“Of course I don’t fuckin' mind!” He says, clearly excited; and you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. “But wha' about the Crue? Won’ they be angry you’re off tourin’ wif another band?”

“I’ll handle the boys.” You assure him, smiling into the receiver.

—

“The fuck do you mean you’re leaving?” Nikki asks as he looks at you, your bags at your feet.

“Exactly what I said; you need it in writing?” You snap.

“Would you stop being a fucking bitch for five seconds and explain to me what the hell you think you’re playing at?” Nikki spits back. “You can’t just fucking leave!”

“Newsflash Nikki; you don’t fucking own me! I can do whatever the hell I want!” You shout, throwing your arms up.

“Okay, okay can everyone just chill out for a second please?” Vince asks.

“Stay the fuck out of this Vince.” Nikki sneers as he looks over at the blonde. “This isn’t any of your fucking business.”

“Don’t fucking yell at him!” You say, scowling at Nikki as he looks back at you.

“We’re gonna get kicked out of the lobby soon.” Mick comments absently.

“Y/N please don’t go.” Tommy begs. “We can talk about this.”

“I’ve made up my mind Tommy.” You say firmly, crossing your arms.

“Where you gonna go, huh?” Nikki asks. “Back home? You live in my house y/n! You can’t go home–I won’t allow it!”

“'Allow it?’” You repeat in a mix of anger and disbelief. “God you have been such a fucking asshole lately! What the hell is wrong with you?” You yell back at him, exasperated. “And for your information no, I’m not going home; I’m going to stay with Nic.”

“Nic?” Nikki looks at you confused. Then, realization spreads across his face. “Oh hoho! You’re going on tour with Razzle and the rest of those fuckers in Hanoi Rocks!”

“What?” Tommy scowls. “You’re going on tour with another band?”

“I’m going to stay with my boyfriend, who is currently in a band that is touring.” You try dodging the question with a half-truth.

Technically Razzle wasn’t your boyfriend yet–but that was only because the two of you didn’t have time to talk about it over the phone before you had to leave to catch your flight. You expected that’s where things were headed though, since you were going to be touring with him now, so it wasn’t a total lie.

“Boyfriend? Since fucking when?” Tommy shouts.

“That’s none of your fucking business.” You snap, taken aback by his sudden change in tone. He had been so desperate and kind a second ago.

“So what? You a fucking groupie now y/n? Huh? You just gonna hop from one band to another whenever it’s convenient for you?” Tommy asks, clearly pissed. You look back at him like you’ve been slapped in the face. You clench your jaw as tears start forming in your eyes.

“Fuck you Tommy.” You whisper, tears sliding down your cheeks.

“Y/N–” He calls out to you, but you ignore him; grabbing your bags and heading out the door.

—

You stand outside waiting for your taxi as the tears continue flowing down your face. It was all too much, and as much as you hated people seeing you cry, you just couldn’t hold it in anymore.

Nikki was changing. It had been happening for awhile, but you had tried to ignore it; made excuses, played it off. Now there was no denying the truth: the brother you knew, who hurt himself to save you from your mother and her shitty boyfriends, who went hungry so you could eat, who took beatings to protect you–he was disappearing. This new Nikki was someone else, someone dark, and controlling. Someone who didn’t care about hurting the people he cared about–even you. You saw less and less of the Nikki you knew everyday, and you worried one day you’d look at your brother’s face and see a stranger staring back at you.

Then there was Tommy. That sweet, simple boy you meet three years ago. Your best friend. There was more to Tommy than that now–maybe there always had been, and you just never saw it. You didn’t understand how Tommy could be so sweet, then act so cruel. You didn’t understand why he got this way about Razzle; it’s like ever since you’d started seeing the other drummer, it had brought out the worst in Tommy.

As you stand under the awning waiting for your taxi, tears still staining your cheeks, you hear the doors to the lobby open behind you. You turn and see Vince and Mick walking toward you. You quickly wipe your face on the back of your arm and smile up at them.

“Hey, sorry you guys had to get stuck in the middle of that.” You say, doing your best to sound cheerful.

“Not the first time we’ve been in the center of a public shitshow; though usually there’s more nudity involved.” Mick says, the corner of his mouth turning up slightly. You know he’s trying to cheer you up, and honestly it works. A small giggle escapes your lips.

“We can still fix that if you want to y/n.” Vince says, winking at you. “I’m always down for a little public nudity if you’re involved.”

“I’d like to not get arrested tonight; but thanks anyway Vince.” You say, smirking at him. He shurgs.

“Your loss.” He replies, looking away. After a moment, he looks back at you, a more sincere expression on his face. “By the way y/n, I wanted to say…” He trails off, rubbing the back of his neck as he looks down at the pavement awkwardly.

“What?” You press. It was unusual for Vince to be at a loss for words. He sighs, then looks back up at you.

“I just wanted to say you shouldn’t listen to Nikki and Tommy–they were being real assholes, and they were wrong.” Your eyes go wide as you stare back at him in shock. You knew Vince and Mick felt bad for you, but you hadn’t really expected them to openly take your side against their bandmates.

“Look, you’re not a bitch, and you’re definitely not a fucking groupie, okay? I mean if you were then I think I got fucking jipped.” He says with a laugh. You’re too surprised to laugh at the joke, not that it was that great to begin with.

“With jokes like that it’s amazing you ever resisted his charms.” Mick comments, and that manages to get a laugh from you. “He is right though; those two were total shitheads and I don’t blame you for wanting to split. You deserve to be happy, and if that frilly English shit makes you happy, then I say go for it.” You’re taken aback by the sincerity in Mick’s words. Vince comes over and puts a hand in your shoulder.

“Look, try not to worry about what Nikki and Tommy said, okay? They’re just pissed because they’re used to having you all to themselves, and they don’t like the idea of having to share you. So go have fun with your English boy toy, and just know we’ll be here if you ever get homesick.” You look back at the two of them, and you feel your heart swell so full it aches.

Nikki and Tommy had been the people you were closest to since the band formed; Nikki was your brother, your rock, your oldest friend. Tommy had quickly grown to be your best friend, your closet companion, the person you trusted most. But you couldn’t forget how much you loved Vince and Mick; they were your brothers just as much as Nikki and Tommy were. You had been through so much with both of them, and just because you were having problems with Tommy and Nikki, you didn’t want to punish Mick and Vince for that.

You feel tears well up in your eyes as you grab hold of Vince, hugging him tightly as you bury your face in the crock of his neck.

“Thanks Vinny.” You say as you squeeze him tighter. “I appreciate it.” You let him go, and his cheeks are flushed as he looks away.

“Yeah, whatever.” He says, and you laugh, whipping your eyes. You move over to Mick and wrap your arms around him.

“Give us a call every once and awhile so we know you’re not dead.” He says, and you laugh as you pull away.

“Yes dad.” You reply sarcastically, and he scowls. You smile, moving to give him a quick kiss on the cheek. His eyes go wide as he stares back at you in surprise. “I promise I’ll call as soon as I get there, okay?” He looks away.

“S'all I’m asking.” He mumbles.

“Hey, why does the old man get a kiss?” Vince whines, and you laugh.

Just then, the taxi pulls up to take you to the airport.

“Well, looks like my ride’s here.” You say, trying to mask your sadness by turning away from them. You move to get your bags, but Vince grabs them before you can. He winks at you, and silently moves to toss them in back of the taxi.

“It’s not forever; I’ll see you guys again in no time.” You say cheerful as you look at Mick, who just nods in response, looking lonely. You take one quick glance back at the lobby doors, before turning to the taxi.

“Thanks for grabbing my bags Vince; maybe there’s a gentleman buried in there somewhere after all.” You say, smirking.

“Don’t hold your breath sweetheart.” Vince jokes, smiling; though you both feel the sadness behind it. As you pass him, you lean in and give him a quick peak on the cheek. You smile as Vince laughs.

“There, now you’re even.” You say, before getting into the taxi. You shut the door, waving out the back window as you watch the two of them get further and further away.

#tommy lee x reader #the dirt!tommy lee x reader #mgk!tommy lee x reader #the dirt x reader #the dirt #tommy lee

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ot3tropetober · 4 years ago

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Eliot and Hardison are travel journalists for rival publications who keep showing up in the same places

Fic for this (~3500 words) is below the read more! Some notes:

[backstory on why Hardison is writing these comes from this post]

[Eliot, Parker, and Hardison are all commenting on this document, think of it like the chat in Google drive? In-document comments from Eliot are italicized, from Hardison are in bold, and from Parker are plain text]

By the time Will Coffey stepped off the plane in Dallas, all he wanted was a nice long shower and to sleep in his own bed for once. Being a travel journalist for a leading travel magazine had its perks– a month-long trip across Mexico, for example, all expenses paid or at least reimbursed – but after a month on the road he was dead tired and ready to be home.

Is this supposed to be me? Why am I living in Dallas?

Yes, and also, you don’t actually live in Dallas, Eliot, you live here, in Portland, with us.

I know that, I just– you know what, never mind.

Well, Will Coffey likes Dallas.

I am Will Coffey!!

That’s the spirit.

The other thing about being on the road for a living was that sometimes it felt kinda lonely, and as relieved as he was to be home, the first couple of minutes after he walked in, turned on the lights, and looked around at an empty place, that was always a little bittersweet. But the only other person he’d really seen in any kind of serious capacity the whole time he’d had this gig was a fellow traveler who spent just as much time on the road as he did, so it just kinda was what it was. He set his keys and his bag down and headed to the kitchen for a beer, but he hadn’t even opened his fridge when his phone buzzed a couple times. It was a text from Sarah, his editor. He’d known her forever– they shared a couple classes in college. Now they shared the stress of managing a print publication in an increasingly digital world.

“Did you see this?” she had written. There was a link in the next message. “How does this guy get this stuff up so fast?“

Will already knew what he was gonna find before he clicked the link, and sure enough, it directed him to a popular travel blog called The Travel Geek, which was a ridiculous name for a travel blog but people absolutely went wild for it. Will liked it too, not that he would ever really admit it, but that probably had more to do with the guy who ran it than anything else. They had…not a thing, exactly? It was hard to explain whatever was going on with Jeremy Edwards, who by rights Will should probably hate for stealing his stories and his audience. But the problem with that was mainly that the guy was so goddamn likeable.

I’m guessing that’s you.

You would be correct.

You think I think you’re likeable?

No, I know it.

he is pretty likeable

Yeah, yeah.

Will had met Jeremy a couple of years ago, right when he was just starting out with his blog. Jeremy said he’d been reading Will’s stuff for a while and would love some advice from a pro. It wasn’t like Will didn’t know it was a little bit of flattery, and it wasn’t like he didn’t know it was a little bit of flirting, either. It also wasn’t like Jeremy was bad to look at. So Will said sure, he’d be glad to, and they were in Belgium, so they shared some beers, ate fries from a baraque at one in the morning on a park bench, shoulders pressed together, while Will tipsily rhapsodized about gaufre de Liège while Jeremy laughed and laughed.

I have never *rhapsodized* about anything in my damn life.

Have you heard you talk about food? This is not a criticism. I could listen to that all day.

Nothing really happened, in the end, just a good conversation and the promise to keep in touch. That turned out to be easier than it should have been, because they started covering the same damn things, all the time. One big world, and somehow they were always sharing part of it: Will was in India on a camel safari through the Thar Desert, and Jeremy was there, keeping Will up at night tappity tapping on his keyboard. Or Will was in Oatman, Arizona, for a piece on Route 66, and there was Jeremy, taking selfies with the wild burros roaming the streets of the town. Or Will was traveling around Japan, doing a feature on onsens, and Jeremy was there, too, acting like he wasn’t looking in Will’s direction while they sat, very naked, in the soothing hot water. It went on like that for a while until finally one night in Barcelona, in front of Sagrada Familia, he looked at Jeremy, tall and handsome in this absurd brightly patterned scarf, and said, “This is ridiculous, man,” and pulled him in for a long, lingering kiss.

Do you honestly think it would have taken me that long?

I don’t know, baby, it took your cowboy ass five years in real time, so Will’s doing a lot better than you.

OoooooooOooo

We had a lot goin on!!! And what is that supposed to be, parker? are you some kind of ghost?

it made more sense in person

I’ll take your word for it.

It wasn’t a relationship, exactly. It was just something they did, sometimes, if they happened to run into each other on the road. It wasn’t like he was getting invited home for the holidays, or anything, and he was fine with that, really. The long and short of it was, they’d basically been circling each other for years now, professionally, personally, whatever, but the professional stuff was definitely getting in the way of anything else. Because Will would sit down and write out his long, detailed articles with carefully selected photographs that would look just right on the page, while Jeremy had already turned out quick blog entry after quick blog entry, listing off places people should visit with witty little one sentence summaries, and people just ate it right up with a spoon while Adventure., Will’s magazine, slowly saw its sales circling the drain. It stung a little. Maybe more than a little. It wasn’t like he could say the guy wasn’t working hard, but damn. Hell, the best selling issue they’d had in a couple years was the one where Sarah had masterminded a collaboration between Will and Jeremy. Blogging was definitely here to stay.

That night in Belgium was five years ago, and at the time it seemed impossible that the internet would ever really fully overtake print. But bloggers and phones had both gotten smarter over the last five years, and now everyone wanted their news in little chunks that they could read on a screen during their commute, so travel blogs were the hot new thing. Will grimaced as he looked at the blog entries Jeremy already had up from Mexico, where they’d run into each other at least half a dozen times.

Five Reasons You Need to Visit Mexico City Right Now; What You’re Missing Because You’re Not in Monterrey; Everything You Wanted to Know About Agave But Were Too Afraid to Ask

“You gotta be kidding me with this,” he muttered, staring at his phone and thinking about the half-written article he had saved on his laptop detailing the history of agave and how to experience Jalisco as more than just the birthplace of tequila.

He pulled up Sarah’s number and dialed.

“I don’t know how we can compete with this,” he sighed, when she picked up.

“We’re going to have to adapt,” she said. “You know that. I can hear you making a face."

"I don’t want to blog,” he complained. “I like print."

"I know,” she sighed. “I’m working on it. Anyway, I’m glad you called, I was going to call you. I need you to go to Italy. Flight leaves tomorrow."

"No way. Not interested,” he told her. “I just got back to my apartment, Sarah, I’ve been in Mexico for a month. I’m beat."

"It’s not my fault that you spend half your time on extracurricular activities,” she teased.

“You can just say sex,” he said. “I won’t be offended. And it’s not half my time. Like, maybe twenty-five percent. Anyway, I get the job done."

"Yeah, and you’re very good at it, which is why I need you to go to Italy,” she said.

“I’m not saying yes,” he told her, “and I’m not interested. But what’s in Italy that’s so important for me to get to?"

"You’ll love this one,” Sarah promised. “It’s a food festival."

Okay, maybe he was a little interested. "Oh?”

“Yeah,” she said. His phone buzzed in his ear. “I just emailed you the details. Including your flight info."

"Dammit, Sarah–"

"Oops, emergency, the printer’s on fire, gotta go!” she chirped, and the line disconnected.

Yeah okay that’s Parker huh

Yep!

I do know y'all a little bit.

“Dammit,” Will said again, and opened Sarah’s email to read up on his next destination.

The food festival turned out to be a week long international celebration of local food from around the world. It only happened once every few years in October, when a world of people descended on the city of Torino, and more specifically the park by the River Po, where they set up tents and stands and served pretty much every kind of food you could imagine, and Will loved food and could imagine a lot, so that was saying something. It was pretty cool, seeing all these people from all over the planet showing off food that was important to them, sharing it with strangers. It really was the whole planet, too, the way the park was set up you could walk through a continent at a time, with all the countries on it represented at their own space. He figured he’d pay his respects to the hosts first and start with Italy, which was definitely the largest section. Halfway through the displays he found a stall with some folks from Campania selling fresh mozzarella di bufala the size of his fist for a Euro. It was speared on a stick like a candy apple so he could walk around with it, nibbling on the sweet cheese as he checked out the festival’s other offerings. Aged cheeses covered in mud and straw from a little town in France. A swanky tent with wood plank floors where the Filipino agriculture offices had a set up with big displays dedicated to traditional food and heirloom crops. Six different kinds of wild rice were layered in a glass display bottle in the booth dedicated to Indigenous agriculture in North America. There were folks from the Yucatan peninsula displaying cured meats and wild honey. There was a whole series of displays about preserving, protecting, and raising Maasai red sheep, from Kenya. The whole event was really impressive, actually, and even though his body had no idea what time zone he was in, he didn’t feel too tired– although that might have been more because he’d been downing every cup of coffee from anyone selling it.

Okay, this actually sounds pretty cool. But now you gotta fake a whole food festival like this if we ever use these aliases.

I don’t have to. That’s a real thing. Happens every couple of years. I was gonna ask if you wanted to go to the next one. Parker can probably find us a job after, anyway.

I’d love– like that.

Hardison. HARDISON.

Why isn’t this deleting the things I tell it to delete???

Ooh, forgot to tell y'all, this chat records your keystrokes? You know. Just in case you happen to type something sappy about how much you love me, and then delete it before you send it in the chat. Pretty much exactly what just happened.

Dammit Hardison I’m gonna delete YOU

Baby, that doesn’t even make any sense.

im w hardison on this 1. it’s ok if u love things eliot. especially food . or us

Just let me finish reading Hardison’s make believe story so I can get back to dinner prep, ok?

(he loves us)

I know :)

Will strolled around the park, snapping photos here and there, jotting down notes. He talked to folks from all over who came here to run their country’s booths, locals who had come out to enjoy the day, and people who had traveled long distances to be there. After a couple of hours and a really good lunch, he found an unoccupied bench near the river and posted up there for a while, notebook open next to him as he flipped through photos on his phone, the story he could tell about this event already starting to take shape in his head, and he had to admit, at least to himself, that Sarah had been right about this one. Nobody else on their staff knew food enough to get this right. But even though he had a good idea where to start, he couldn’t help feeling a little overwhelmed, too. You could spend two weeks here and still not talk to everybody, and it seemed important to try, somehow.

“Well, well, well,” said a voice, and Will looked up from his phone and his notes to see the tall form of none other than Jeremy Edwards.

“Dammit, Edwards,” Will swore. “You’ve gotta be kidding me. Again?"

Yeah it’s pretty much EXACTLY like that every time

Mmmhmm. You talk a big game, man, but no one here believes you.

What he said ur like that stuff u put on the dessert u made 4 us last wk

Stuff on dessert– the Italian meringue? You really comparing me to Italian meringue?!

Is that the stuff that was kinda hard and crunchy on the outside but actually really soft and sweet inside?

Yep that’s the stuff

This is the worst conversation we’ve ever had.

It’s weird how I can hear you smiling right now, though.

Shut up, Hardison, I’m reading.

Got him! XD

"Looks like it,” Jeremy said. He took a seat next to Will on the bench, despite the fact that Will had absolutely not fucking offered it to him. He grinned. Will looked back at his notes before he smiled back. “We’ve really gotta stop meeting like this."

"Yeah, well, trust me, I’m working on it,” Will grumbled, and risked a look at Jeremy again. Still handsome, and still smiling, unfortunately. He thought about the blog a little and made himself frown. “So, you’re here to blog about this, huh? How many blog posts have you done already?"

"None so far,” Jeremy said, scratching his chin, “but I am working on one right now. Tentative title, How to Tell The Guy You’re Casually Seeing And Have Been Chasing All Over the Globe That His Boss Sent Me Here To Work With Him."

Well, there was a lot of information there, but Will decided maybe sticking with the professional stuff was better for now. "I’m sorry, you’re here for what?"

Jeremy shrugged. "Sarah really liked that collaboration thing she got us to do last year, I guess, wanted to try it again for this. I said yes. It’s good for your magazine and it gives my blog some credibility with all you snooty print folks."

"We’re not snooty,” Will said, although that wasn’t exactly true. Maybe they were, a little. He unlocked his phone and saw the email from Sarah, the subject line of which read: “DON’T ARGUE IT WILL BE GOOD FOR YOU/US/THE MAGAZINE.” He sighed and looked back at Jeremy. “I can’t believe she sent you to a food thing."

"I’m offended,” Jeremy said, although it didn’t much sound like it. “I know food."

"Oh really? So last year when we were in Beijing and you were looking for a McDonald’s that was just you knowing food, huh,” Will drawled.

“Sometimes you just really want a Happy Meal,” Jeremy joked, and Will just shook his head.

“I guess we should figure out what we’re doing, then,” he said, and Jeremy raised his eyebrows.

“About the story,” he said, “right?"

"Yeah, about the story,” Will grumbled.

“Whatever you say,” Jeremy said affably, just like always.

It was actually pretty easy to figure out how to cover the festival now that he had a partner in crime. They worked out a plan that afternoon, sketched out a couple of pieces, a collab for Adventure., a short guest piece for Will on The Travel Geek, and a short story in the magazine for Jeremy. Sarah signed off on everything from afar– “What time is it where she is? Does that woman ever sleep?” Jeremy asked, as they both got email after email. “I don’t think she does, man,” Will laughed– and they got to work pretty quick. There was plenty to do and they were both here for a few days, so they wandered through the park as they worked, stopping occasionally to sample food or take photos. Eventually they walked all the way out of the park and into the city, up to a big plaza, Piazza Castello, in the center of the historic part of town. They got gelato from one of the many carts set up nearby for the festival, and sat outside, eating and talking as the sun set.

It was nice. It was always nice, when they ran into each other. That wasn’t the problem. But they’d been stuck in the same routine for years now: they’d find themselves in the same place, Jeremy would laugh, Will would pretend he was annoyed, and then they’d spend a good chunk of their time together enjoying each other’s company in as many ways as they could find, and then they’d head to the airport and go their separate ways. And that was that. This shouldn’t be any different, but somehow it was. Maybe it was the sunset lighting up Jeremy’s skin, or maybe he’d just been lonely too long, but maybe they needed to figure out what they were doing with more than just the stories they were here to tell.

“You wanna get dinner?” Will said, before he could talk himself out of it.

“Yeah,” Jeremy said, smiling again, and this time Will let himself smile back. Just a little.

They asked around for recommendations and ended up at a little restaurant in the city, a few blocks from the Piazza. They split a bottle of wine, a margherita pizza, and some perfectly fried fish, and they didn’t really talk about work at all.

“You know,” Jeremy said, about halfway through the wine, “not for nothing, but I’ve gotta say, this looks and feels a lot like a date."

"I wasn’t under the impression that you’d be opposed to that,” Will said.

“Oh, I’m not opposed,” Jeremy told him, “I’m just a little surprised you’re asking. I figured at this point it was gonna have to be me who said something."

Will eyed him carefully, thought back to a lot of nights on a lot of trips. "How long exactly have you been waiting around?"

"I mean, don’t get the wrong idea, here, I haven’t been pining away for you like some Victorian in a bad novel,” Jeremy said, and Will snorted. “But yeah. I played a long game, man. I gotta say, though, after that fishing boat incident in Guyana I really thought you figured out we had a thing."

"Yeah, well, I didn’t have time to notice, I was too busy taking pictures of you hiding behind that skinny British guy when that big old fish jumped out of the water,” Will snickered.

“Big old– that thing was two-hundred and thirty-four pounds of ichthyological torpedo headed straight for yours truly,” Jeremy said, and Will chuckled. “Big doesn’t really describe it.”

“Hmm. It was kinda wild he thought we were gonna get in the water with it,” Will mused. He winked. “Glad you finally remembered you owed me dinner for keeping him from pushing us into the river."

"Ha. You know Sarah wants us to work with that guy again, right?"

"Aw, hell,” Will said. “Really?"

"Yeah,” Jeremy confirmed. “She said she was gonna talk to you about it when we got back from this. Canada this time, so when Mister Fisherman tries to throw me in the water at least the hypothermia will probably get me before the monster fish does."

"Nah,” Will said. “Don’t worry about that. Nobody throws you off a fishing boat. Except maybe me. No. Well. Maybe. No,” he concluded.

Hah. I mean, okay, that does sound like me.

Oh, I am aware, trust me.

“Sarah maybe also mentioned we might do a few more of these little…collaborative things,” Jeremy said, drawing invisible circles on the table. “Maybe even in a more formal capacity."

Will raised his eyebrows. "No way she talked you into giving up the blog."

"Oh, definitely not,” Jeremy said. “But funnily enough, people keep sending me emails about wanting a print version of some of my photographs? But I don’t really have the publishing connections. A magazine, though…” he shrugged. “Me and Sarah figured we might come to some kind of mutually beneficial arrangement, somehow. Might be seeing more of you, is what I’m trying to say."

"Can’t say I mind that,” Will said, and reached out across the table to cover Jeremy’s hand with his.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” Jeremy answered, and this time Will didn’t try to hide his smile.

/end

Okay?

Okay, what?

Well where the hell is the rest of it?

What rest of it? It’s clearly implied that they’re dating now. They’re dating, they’re happy, they’re gonna work together for real, happily ever after, et cetera.

they should have at least kissed. i would be into that

This is what I’m saying. Where’s the resolution, here?

Baby, anytime you want a kiss, you know where to find me.

What I want is for you to take this seriously since you’re making us read all of it.

Wow, okay. Here:

They walked around the city for a long time after dinner, still holding hands, and the kiss they shared later under the moonlight felt like a promise. The Actual End.

Y'all happy?

too sappy 4 me but idk what eliot thinks

Not your best work but it’ll do, I guess.

Are you still in the kitchen?

Yeah, why?

I’m gonna come give you a demonstration of my best work, that’s why.

Bring it on, man.

do i get a demo too

You know it.

#author: coffeesuperhero #leverage ot3 #parker x hardison x eliot #hardison x eliot #leverage #ot3tropetober #submission

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masterwords · 4 years ago

Text

Two by Two, Hands of Blue (Part Four)

Warnings: Canon-typical violence

Notes: Remember how I said this was going to be a slow burn? There are so many things to get to here. When I look at my outline for this story, it looks...ambitious, to say the least. Penelope Garcia is a saint! Stay tuned, because Emily will be bringing her particular brand of chaos in Part Five. I am optimistic that I’ll be able to get one part a day posted, so far so good.

Previously On: PART ONE, PART TWO, PART THREE

“I can't sit in his office,” JJ muttered, staring into the cold, empty room. His towering shelves of books loomed over her, trophies and awards, photos of his family, it was all pressing in on her. She wasn't sure if they'd expected her to sit in his chair or not but she couldn't do it, she wouldn't do it. Hotch sits there, behind that desk, and no one else, that's what she kept telling herself. If she sat down in that chair, it would make it real. Dave stood behind her, hardly able to keep himself upright, leaning against the door like it was part of him.

“You don't have to,” he said softly, patting her on the shoulder. “It's not a requirement of the job. You sit where you need to sit.”

“How do I do this?” she asked, turning around to face him, to really look at him. He looked so fragile all of a sudden, the lines around his eyes more prominent. She hadn't realized how very close he was to breaking, himself. “How do I even...”

“No one expects you to be him, Jennifer. Just do your best. We're all here to help.” She nodded, tucking a chunk of hair behind her ear nervously. She hated that she did that when she got nervous, but everyone had their thing and it was hers. She would pull at it, make it fall out and then tuck it back again endlessly. “Tara is going to be spending some of her time working with Aaron's defense team, they were glad to get her help, but Luke is all yours, and the rest of us will try to balance everything the best we can.”

“Yeah...sure...just...business as usual,” she muttered under her breath and he shook his head solemnly.

“One day at a time.”

***

“Derek? What are you doing here?” Jessica opened the door wide, letting Derek in. He was a sight for sore eyes.

“Listen,” he started, entering the apartment and shutting the door behind him, not wanting to talk in the hall. He may not have been with the BAU anymore but old habits die hard, and talking privately in the open was something he still couldn't bring himself to do. “I heard about Aaron and I'm here to help. Penelope told me Jack...had some trouble and ran off? Tell me what happened.”

Jessica put on a pot of coffee and told him everything Jack had said, his sudden distrust of his father, the friend, the car. “I'm not a profiler, I don't do this stuff...but I know something is wrong.”

“Has he ever said anything like that about Aaron before?”

“No! No never. Derek, he was so angry at me for defending him...I've never seen Jack like that.”

Derek regarded her seriously for a moment, shaking his head. “Doesn't sound like the Jack I know. Mind if I have a look in his room?” She shook her head and walked him toward Jack's door, and as he walked in she went back to tend to the coffee. It was a force of habit, she always kept a pot brewing in Aaron's house, she was fairly sure his veins ran with the stuff and it wasn't his apartment if it didn't smell like a freshly brewed pot. Anything to make herself feel better. She didn't even know if Derek drank coffee.

“Babygirl? Jack has his own computer, you think you could work some magic here?” He heard her squeal, suck in a deep breath, and he swore he could hear the bearings in her chair singing as she spun it around.

“I know this whole situation is awful and it sucks...but it's SOSOSO good to hear you say that to me again. Yes, yes, I can...I can...is it alright, do you think? Do we know he's really missing? Would Hotch be okay with us doing this? It feels so icky.”

“I'm in his room right now and I see a lot of signs that point to him not planning on coming back. Looks like he packed up clothes, his toothbrush, his room looks like it's been ransacked. There's a picture of his family on his desk and his Hotch’s face is scratched out. This kid is...angry. Something's wrong here and if anyone can figure it out, mama, it's you.” He pulled back Jack's sheets, opened drawers, looked through everything he could think of. He felt awful going through Jack's life, and he knew it was only going to get worse if he had to do the same thing down the hall in Aaron's room, but one thing at a time. If they didn't find Jack, nothing they did for Aaron would matter and they all knew it.

She froze for a moment, wondering how much more the world could throw in their direction. It wasn't bad enough that they were trying to hunt down someone who they believed was framing their friend, but now they had to try and find his son too. “Bring me his computer, okay? I want it here, just in case. He could still...just be with a friend...right?”

“Yeah. He could be. Let's just make sure, okay? I'll be there soon.”

***

“So where are we going?” Jack asked, fiddling with the zipper on his backpack nervously. The further they drove away from his apartment, his home, his city, the more nervous he got about his decision.

“You'll see,” the woman driving said, smiling. Her southern drawl was charming and she seemed kind enough, he didn't think there was any reason not to trust her. She said she was going to help him, said she knew his dad and showed him. He was afraid of his father, afraid of what his father had done or could do, he didn't know, it just scared him. “You'll be happier where we're going. No one will hurt you there.”

“My dad never hurt me...” he said softly, trying to find something he recognized out the window but everything was foreign. He'd never been this far from home without family. He was starting to feel guilty for being so mean to his aunt, she'd only ever taken care of him, better than anyone else. She'd only ever loved him.

“Well, not yet, but you know he would have. You saw.”

He gulped and nodded. He did see, she'd shown him the photos of what his dad had done to George Foyet. She'd shown him a lot of things he wished he hadn't seen, wished he didn't know. Growing up wasn't as fun as he'd imagined it would be, and his father wasn't the hero he thought he was.

***

“Sean, calm down,” Dave commanded, pacing from one end of his den to the other. It was well past the time he should have been in bed, and every time he tried to lay down, he saw Aaron's face. It was worse than a crime scene, worse than a case gone bad. His heart was racing, he was dead on his feet, and now Sean Hotchner was shouting at him from his New York apartment.

“Calm down?! My brother is in prison! How is that even possible?! What could he have done?”

“That's what we're trying to figure out,” Dave sighed, dropping finally onto his couch and letting himself sink into the cushions. He couldn't stand up another minute. “He'll be allowed visitation starting tomorrow, you're welcome to come down when you have time. Aside from that, Sean, I'm sorry...I don't know what else to tell you. We don't have much yet.” He yawned, a big jaw cracking yawn and let his eyes drift closed for a moment while he listened to Sean ramble on, words had stopped making sense. Sean's voice became a steady stream of noises akin to the adults talking on The Peanuts, and Dave mumbled something about going to bed before ending the call and finally succumbing to sleep, right there on the couch, phone still in his hand. All it took was an angry Hotchner to make it happen, if he'd known that he would have called Sean hours ago.

***

To say that Penelope Garcia was having a bad day would be the understatement of the year. Derek had brought in Jack's computer for her, and after visiting for much too short a time for her taste, he went home to his family and to process what he'd seen that day. She was left with a little boy's computer and a nagging feeling of guilt as she hacked her way into it and began to violate what little privacy a child his age has, especially knowing the father he had. Everything was locked down as hard as it could be, and yet she found a few cracks where the bad could creep in, and with a sick feeling, she realized it had. Jack's friend Michael wasn't a boy from school, it was, so far she could tell, a fake profile set up by someone who was very skilled at covering their tracks. What little she did know was that this Michael knew an awful lot about Aaron, more than she or anyone in the BAU knew, and they'd shared all of his darkest secrets with Jack, an eleven year old boy (nearly twelve, days away she knew) who wouldn't know a good way to process it. Hell, she was a grown woman and she didn't know how to process what she was seeing.

“Agent Rossi? Sir?” she asked, and she could hear the way his voice broke with sleep. He was mumbling incoherently and she felt terrible for bothering him. “I'm sorry, it can wait until morning. Please call me tomorrow...”

With a sick feeling creeping through her chest, she shut Jack's computer and packed up her things. She couldn't see another thing, couldn't think about it anymore. What she needed was a cup of tea and Sergio.

***

There was no silence in prison, not at night, not anytime. Aaron lay on his side, curled around his broken hand in its useless blood soaked gauze, his back to the wall and stared straight ahead. Scales had been sleeping for hours now, and though he was beyond tired, he was just listening. There were whispers from all over, hushing just as the guards would walk by and then starting again. Rustling blankets, metal grinding against concrete, too many new noises. It was cold, freezing even, and his blankets put hospital blankets to shame for uselessness. It was like draping yourself in tissue paper and expecting to keep warm. Scales seemed to have no problem but Aaron was shivering. On a good day, Aaron was anxious, but here? Now? That didn't begin to cover it. The only thing keeping him from the brink of madness was the knowledge that he had visitation with Garcia in the morning, it gave him something to cling to. Considering that this was only his first night, he wasn't exactly brimming with hope for his own adjustment. He tried to slow his breathing, close his eyes, think of things that made him feel good and calm, anything to try and get some sleep.

“Sit up,” came a voice from the darkness outside his room and he heard the key turn in the lock. It was the guard from earlier, and Aaron sat himself up with some considerable effort. He'd nearly managed to fall asleep before the interruption. “You don't wanna sleep when we give you time to sleep huh? Well there's work to be done. Come on.”

Aaron stood, holding his injured hand close, following the guard out of the cell and down the corridor. He heard hushed whispers, the guard telling people to shut up, and they walked out of the cell block and toward the laundry room.

“We got lotsa laundry here, and hey, you don't need sleep tough guy? Make yourself useful huh.”

Aaron stared at him, furrowing his brow, trying to focus on the instructions he was being given. He had no idea how he'd even begin to do any of it in his condition but he wasn't planning to start trouble. Not now, not after the day he'd already had. Scales had told him to keep his head down and do what was asked of him without complaint and he intended to give that his best shot, at least until it didn't work, and then he might try another tactic. He thought violence might be next on his list. The guard walked out of the door, but he could see him just on the other side of the glass, his back to Aaron and the laundry room. He set to work, trying his best to load and unload commercial sized machines with only one barely functioning hand, and he kept at it all night. Sunlight crept in through the cracks in the covered window and his legs felt like jello, but he worked until he was told to stop, told that it was breakfast time.

In the mess hall, he found Scales and sat with him, tried to keep his head from falling flat into his tray of food. He didn't feel everyone staring at him this time and it was a welcome spot of relief.

“Where'd they take you last night?” Scales asked, and Aaron told him about his night as he picked at his oatmeal and cantaloupe. It hadn't been terrible, he said, but he wasn't eager to do it again. “You gotta sleep or you're gonna end up in the infirmary. Guy like you doesn't wanna end up there.”

“I'll try,” Aaron said softly.

“You got a visitor today? You better watch who comes. Anyone here sees you with someone looks like a cop, you'll be sucking your meals through a straw for the next month. Seems like people already know what you are but it isn't causing problems yet...let's keep it that way. You start bringing cops in here, I can't do nothing for you.”

“No cops,” he replied. “Just friends.”

“Guy like you doesn't look like he's got many friends...”

***

“Oh, oh hi sir,” Penelope said, staring at a face she'd been longing to see for days now. He looked awful, so tired, his nose was angry and swollen and big black bruises had spread their tendrils beneath his eyes. “I've missed you. We all have.” She was wearing her most enthusiastic pinks and greens, fuzzy clips in her hair, and heels with butterflies all over them. She had taken Dave very, very seriously and made sure that she didn't look anything like an FBI agent, not even a little bit. Aaron noticed, and appreciated the gesture.

“Aaron,” he whispered, leaning forward. “Please, Penelope. Just call me Aaron.”

She stammered a moment, unable to make the word form on her lips. She'd only ever called him Aaron accidentally, it didn't feel right, it felt like a violation. “Yes, sir, I mean...okay...Aaron...”

“Thank you Penelope.”

“Are you...I know this is a silly question but are you okay?”

He looked so serious, so sad, and he shrugged. “I've been better,” was his reply, and it spoke volumes. She didn't think she'd ever heard him say anything other than that he was fine, and she'd almost expected him to say it this time.

“You're going to be fine,” she said with a very self-assured nod, her blonde curls bobbing softly around her face. “We're going to figure this out and we're going to get you back. Don't you worry.” He tried to smile, but it just hurt his face and maybe it took more energy than he had in his reserve because it didn't last. She smiled, though, she gave him her biggest, brightest smile. He was leaning heavily against the back of his chair, and as he listened to her speak, his eyes drifted closed and shot open again. He tried stretching his neck side to side, rolling his shoulders, anything to get his blood pumping.

“Did you hear me?” she asked, looking at him curiously. He sighed and his shoulders slumped, she'd never seen him look like this before.

“I'm sorry, Penelope, I didn't...”

“Sir...Aaron...have you slept?” She already knew the answer, she could see it. And she couldn't blame him, how could someone like him sleep in a place like this? She knew how he was, he had a hard time sleeping under the best circumstances.

“We don't have much time..how is Jack?”

“Oh...” she stammered, and he watched as she went pale as a ghost. Her reaction sent a shiver down his spine and suddenly he felt excruciatingly awake, a sudden shock of fear igniting his nerves. “He's...”

“Penelope,” he whispered, leveling his glare at her. Suddenly he looked like Hotch, angry and awake and so so scary. She blinked back the hot sting of tears as she searched for a way to fix this. “Penelope.”

“Please don't worry, sir, please. We're going to find him. He just got mad at Jessica and went to stay at a friend's house and we're going to find him...” She watched him change before her eyes, as he went from afraid to angry, as he struggled to find the words, to control his temper flaring just beneath the surface. He remembered the feeling of yelling at his mother over the cake, the way the rage just exploded to the surface without warning, and he was glad he'd worked so hard to tame that beast. “I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. We're going to find him.”

“You said he went to a friend's. If he's just at a friend's house then why are you so upset? Who is this friend?” His hands were shaking and he toyed with the frayed edges of his bloody bandage. Whatever was happening was not her fault, he had to keep reminding himself of that – it was his, it was his own fault. He should have transferred out of the BAU when he had the opportunity, if he'd just done what Haley wanted so many years ago then everything would have been fine. Good, even. She would be alive, maybe they’d have more kids, maybe he would have had an opportunity to ride that school bus for a field trip with one of them. This was his penance for his selfishness.

“Um, Michael?” she squeaked, and she watched as a guard approached where they sat talking, she knew her time was up. This was the worst possible way to end her visit. “I called Derek. He's going to find Jack. Please don't worry. Just keep yourself safe.”

“He doesn't know a Michael.”

“I...I know...please. Please just focus on staying safe, sir. Let us handle the rest.”

“Time's up,” the guard said from behind Aaron and he stood up, still locking eyes with Penelope. This hadn't gone well, not at all, and she was so ashamed. Her job was to make him smile, make him feel better, give him hope, and instead she did the opposite. She stood up, wiping the tears from her cheeks and nodded.

“I'm sorry. I didn't...” she began, but he shook his head.

“Thank you for coming, Penelope.”

***

“We're stayin' here for the night,” the woman said, pulling her car into the driveway of a house somewhere in Tennessee. The house was dark, broken down with trees looming over the yard in big shadowy patches and it made Jack a little afraid. He wanted to go home. “Come on in, we'll have some dinner. You hungry?”

“Yeah...” he said, hugging his backpack to his chest. “Can I go home in the morning? I think...I want to go home.”

“You don't live there anymore, remember? Remember what your dad did? Give me a chance, I promise you'll love it.”

***

Dave shut the door behind him as he entered Penelope's office. He leaned there for a moment, waiting for her to turn around.

“I messed up, sir,” she whispered, her head hanging solemnly. He'd never seen her so distraught. “I messed up big time.” Sucking in a deep breath, she tried to look at him, and explain to him what she'd said during her visit with Aaron. He was upset at first, he wanted to snap at her, she had one job to do, but he couldn't. If it had been him, he would probably have given just as much away as she had – they just needed to fix it. She told him how Aaron looked, how he acted, the things he said. She fidgeted with her fluffy pen, held back tears, and waited – he was being so quiet.

“Garcia,” he began, finally, after a long moment of careful reflection. “Find Jack. Do whatever it is you do, work your magic and find Jack. That's how we fix this.”

“Yes, sir, I know...I just...about...we need to...” she hadn't even had the chance to tell him what she'd seen on Jack's computer. Everything about this was awful, every single thing. “This Michael person has access to things I've never even seen, things that aren’t in any of Hotch’s personnel files. They sent Jack all kinds of terrible things about his dad, it’s no wonder he wanted to get away. He’s probably terrified.”

“What things?” Dave asked, approaching Penelope's desk now as she opened Jack's laptop, revealing a file of crime scene photos, bloody pictures of Haley and Foyet and Hotch. “He saw these?”

“All of them, sir,” she mumbled, staring down at her hands. “And other things. This Michael is really, really scary good...I'm having a hard time tracing them but I'm not going to stop, everyone slips up and I'll find where they did.”

“Send me everything that Jack saw, Garcia.”

“Oh, sir, I don't think...you don't want to see...”

“Send me everything. I have a meeting with Aaron’s defense team this afternoon, I need to know what we're up against. Whatever this Michael sent to Jack could just as easily end up in the hands of the prosecution. It may already have. They found two more bodies they’re connecting to him and we need to figure out how and why.”

She nodded and bit her lip as she set to work and she couldn't think of anything she'd ever done that made her feel more repulsive. “Done.”

Next Chapter ->

#criminal minds #fanfiction #aaron hotchner #prison hotch #aaron hotchner whump #david rossi #penelope garcia #derek morgan #jennifer jj jareau

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gumnut-logic · 4 years ago

Text

Gordon the Octopus

I finished one of the WIPs on my list. Admittedly, this is an older one amd I had a good chunk of it written, but I found an end to it tonight :D

Totally @godsliltippy ‘s fault. She sparked the idea back in August last year, I just took a long time to see it through.

Marks & Wings AU, lots of Virgil and Gordon, complete fluff, silliness and self indulgence. The first bit has been posted before, but that was ages ago and it works better as a whole rather than in bits so I’ve reposted the whole thing. 2332 words.

Thank you to all the kind Thunderfam who commented on my WIP list ::hugs you so much:: You guys continue to be amazing.

I hope you enjoy this :D

-o-o-o-

The sun touched the horizon and lit up everything in gold.

Virgil closed his eyes and let its waning warmth soak into his skin.

The breeze was gentle, little more than a tease. It caressed his cheeks, lingered in his hair and tantalised the tracings of his mark across his bare back.

He shivered.

He was wearing only an old pair of cut-off jeans between himself and the warm rock. His feet were bare and dangling in the cool water, his toes teased by the ebb and flow.

His soundscape was filled with that water. The ripples of the lagoon splashing against the rock he was sitting on, the distant surf outside the safety of the caldera.

The squabbles of the petrels on Mateo as they argued about roosts for the night.

It was home.

The day had been a good one. No rescues. A moment to relax and sit back. Each of them had disappeared to their own corners, dabbling in their own pastimes in order to wind down.

Alan had taken to the air in the morning. He hadn’t managed to escape a cautionary word from Scott about staying close to the Island, but that was nothing unusual.

Scott said that to all of them.

Their youngest hadn’t been gone long, choosing only to stretch his golden wings with a few loops of their tiny volcanic rock in the middle of nowhere. Virgil had taken the moment to look up and watch his little brother swoop and dive, golden wings quite a sight in the early morning sun.

Scott and John, of course, were all about catching up on work. Virgil had to intervene at about midday and demand they eat. John was yanked down from orbit with a little extra threat from Grandma.

Virgil had been so happy to see his space brother. A little math and he realised he hadn’t seen him in the flesh for over two weeks.

John indulged him a hug as he knew Virgil craved a physical connection to ground him. Virgil was gentle, knowing that those two weeks in zero gravity would make his brother sensitive to touch.

But he had to.

The spark of connection as their minds reacted was like a tension release. Virgil sighed into his shoulder with relief.

John held him.

But after that, it was all Grandma and eat something, kid. Fortunately, lunch hadn’t relied on her cooking. Virgil had done a supply run on the way back from a minor situation just the day before and the larder was stacked with lazy day goodies.

It was a good meal. For once, everyone was there.

They had spent a good part of the afternoon just lazing about the comms room talking. While they lived most of their lives together, it had become rare being together all at once with no dire emergency needing attention.

There had been sun, conversation and rest.

John. John, of all people, had fallen asleep on the couch.

That had prompted a number of things. Lots of quiet. An interrogation of Eos from the kitchen regarding their brother’s sleep schedule.

This was promptly followed by grounding him for a week to play catch up.

Grandma was not happy.

And no doubt, John would be even less when he woke up.

But hey, the man needed to take better care of himself.

A blanket had appeared.

Virgil may have snuck in a medical monitor and gently clipped it to his shirt to boost the basic vitals his gravity wear provided.

John slept on.

So, they left him there and returned to doing their own things in other parts of the house.

As always, Gordon gravitated towards the sea as late afternoon rolled in. This time Virgil followed him to the water’s edge.

His fish brother’s forays out into the ocean always made Virgil just that touch nervous. There had been times where the aquanaut had gotten himself into trouble…alone, out in that vast wilderness under the surface.

It wasn’t that Gordon didn’t know what he was doing. It was just…Virgil couldn’t reach him.

And he worried.

But Gordy was as much a part of the sea as it was part of him and while the brat respected his concerns, he was still a brat. When he leapt up, morphed into his favourite eagle ray form, and made a splash large enough to soak his engineer brother, it was not unexpected.

There was a reason why sting rays always looked like they were smiling. At least this one thought he was funny.

The smart ass.

A flicker of shadow beneath the surface and Gordon was gone.

Virgil felt him grow distant, only to have a sun shower of mental energy thrown in his direction.

Clearly a ‘cheer up, Virg, I’ll be fine’.

Virgil grunted as he stared out at the water that had swallowed his brother. Gordon would be gone a couple of hours at least. Virgil would occupy himself for the rest of the afternoon, but he knew that come sunset, he would be down by the shore, waiting for him.

And here he was.

Staring out at the sea and the sunset, waiting for that little spark to return.

It wasn’t a chore. It was just something he felt he had to do.

Part of him wished he had brought his sketchbook or his tablet, but the risk was too high. Gordon wouldn’t intentionally soak his stuff, but accidents did happen.

And besides, he didn’t mind taking a moment to just...be.

The sun’s warmth was a caress on his skin and he revelled in it. He let his eyes close and just felt and listened.

Sun.

Water.

Wind.

Birds.

A wet touch on his shoulder.

He couldn’t help it, he flinched. Instinctively he knew what was happening, he knew his brother was being a little shit, but evolution tagged human receptors with flight response for a reason.

Suckers grabbed at his skin.

He stumbled on the rocks as he flung himself to his feet.

The tentacle did not go away.

It had friends.

Virgil suddenly found himself wrapped in several long, wet, suckered appendages.

“Gordon, what the hell are you doing?”

But then cephalopods weren’t the greatest of listeners since they didn’t really have ears.

Gordon, fortunately or unfortunately, did have the ability to transmit emotion to his brother, despite the muffle of transmutation, and the laughter sparkled across Virgil’s mindscape like a rain of sunny stars.

The evening was still golden and warm, but just a touch less relaxing. Virgil stood amongst the rocks with a giant Pacific octopus wrapped around his torso.

He idly stared at the flickering colours of laughter strobing across the chromatophores he could see.

“Gordon, you’re a shit.”

That, of course, only increased the mirth.

Virgil settled his mind and came to terms with the fact he was currently wearing a cephalopod and instead turned to problem solving.

The giant molluscs were quite fascinating. If there was one thing Virgil shared with his fish brother, it was a fascination with life in general, and because his brother spent so much time underwater, Virgil had done his fair share of reading on the topic. Unbeknownst to Gordon, Virgil found cephalopods quite fascinating, both in their communication methods and for painting subjects.

But then, this kraken was a whole different kettle of shellfish.

Virgil stood still for a few moments, waiting to see what his brother would do and, if he was honest, see if his brother would simply let him go.

The mental snickering pretty soon negated that response, so Virgil had to look for a more proactive retaliation.

He prodded a tentacle wrapped around his belly. It wriggled back at him.

Virgil was ticklish. He stifled the thought that his brother might take advantage of that while possessing eight arms.

He could lift. That would bring eight metres of black feathers into the equation, but Gordon was physically in contact with his mark, the feathers would likely phase through him like a piece of clothing.

A tentacle caressed his ribcage and he shivered.

He felt Gordon’s outburst of glee and before he knew it, all of those tentacles were moving, suckers puckering along his ribs and belly, a riot of tickle and tease. There was even one in his hair, its tip dangling in front of his eyes.

His brother’s maniacal mental laughter was all consuming.

Swearing, Virgil spun and leapt into the lagoon, the drop-off immediate enough to take the dive.

His world became a rush of bubbles.

Several tentacles came loose in the chaos and Virgil twisted in the water, hoping to dislodge the rest.

But the water was Gordon’s native environment, and the engineer didn’t have a hope.

The giggling was obnoxious.

Breath soon became an urgency and Virgil pushed towards the flickering light above. He surfaced with an octopus head bopping his nose. Somehow Gordon had slithered around to hang off his front instead of his back.

Virgil glared at his brother through the hair dripping in his eyes.

The head tilted and squirted water into his face.

“Gordon!”

Damnit, Kayo needed to show him some self-defence skills against cephalopods.

The thing was octopuses were strong, but their bodies were somewhat fragile and part of Virgil was worried he might hurt his brother.

Knowing Gordon, he knew that and was playing it to his advantage.

“Why are you doing this?”

Because I can.

Virgil didn’t need telepathy to answer that.

But there was a spark of something beyond the humour. Beyond the rain of sunshine sparkles there was a deep red, a welling of emotion his brother was reluctant to share.

A frown and Virgil reached out mentally to his little brother just that little bit more.

The octopus scrambled up his torso, over his face – to Virgil’s muffled protest – and perched on his head like a turban.

Virgil spat into the water and rubbed his face with both hands. “God, Gordon! Why?!”

But the answer wasn’t built with words, it was built with emotion and it suddenly washed over him.

An overwhelming need to touch, to hug and to feel.

But…?

Virgil reached for his cephalopod hat, but Gordon slipped off into the water with a splash and darted away.

Virgil dove to follow.

He didn’t have a hope in catching up, no matter his brother’s form, but it didn’t stop him from trying.

But Gordon had disappeared.

Damnit!

Oxygen became a necessity far too quickly and, yet again, Virgil cursed his inability to follow his fish brother.

Surfacing dragged his hair into his eyes.

How had he missed it? Gordon could be as in need of touch as Virgil was at times. How had Virgil not seen that his brother just needed a hug?

He mentally kicked himself.

“Virg, it’s not a thing. Don’t tie yourself in knots.”

He spun to find his little brother in human form treading water quietly behind him.

“Why didn’t you tell me you needed a hug? Hell, why didn’t you just give me one?”

Gordon snorted. “Is that a prescription, bro? You dispensing brotherly hugs?”

“I’m dispensing whatever works, Gords.” His head tilted just a little as he stared at his brother. “C’mere?” He held out his arms, his legs doing the best to keep him stable in the water.

Gordon rolled his eyes. “Don’t drown yourself.”

“Gordon…”

When his brother didn’t respond, Virgil took matters into his own hands and dove at him. The fact he was successful in grabbing a flailing leg proved that Gordon didn’t really want to escape.

A little manhandling and Virgil had his brother in the biggest hug he could manage. It was complicated by the fact that hugging was not conducive to swimming and if Virgil didn’t surface soon, he was going to start losing brain cells, but it was the best he could do with a wriggling fish brother.

Ultimately, it was Gordon who threw them to the surface with a spark of exasperation.

“Virg, I’m fine! What the hell?”

But the emotion bouncing across their connection told the truth. There was little but fondness and love for his silly brother.

“I’m not silly.” Virgil wrinkled his nose.

“Never said you were. However, you did nearly drown yourself trying to give me a hug.”

“Did not.”

“Did too.”

“Not.”

“Too.”

“Gordon!”

“What?”

Virgil glared at him.

Predictably, Gordon just smirked at him.

It was Virgil’s turn to be overwhelmed with fondness and love.

Gordon groaned. “Oh god, you are so soppy.”

“What? You’re my brother. I’m allowed to care.”

Gordon fell silent, and for a moment, those brown eyes just stared at Virgil.

Then he found his arms full of brother again. “Love you, bro.”

Surprised, but touched, Virgil’s arms tightened around Gordon and again they dipped below the surface.

Hugs were really conducive to drowning.

And disturbing to sleeping brothers as John startled awake with a rain of confused midnight stars.

Oops.

Virgil made to kick back up to the surface, but suddenly found his arms full of cephalopod again.

Damnit, Gordon.

The sparkling sunshine giggles were back and it was with resignation that Virgil kicked towards the surface.

Perhaps Gordon had a reason for the change and for the cling because when Virgil walked back to the villa and into the comms room wearing his rather heavy cephalopod brother wrapped around him, it brought Scott’s tirade of lecturing John to a sudden halt.

Both brothers stopped and just stared.

Virgil stared back. “What?”

“Is that Gordon?” Scott pointed with both hope and a little fear at the octopus back-pack headwear combination.

A tentacle poked at Virgil’s nose from his forehead. He ignored it and shrugged. “Gords wanted a hug.” He turned away. “I’m going to go have a shower.” An absent wave of a hand.

If his brothers stared as he walked out, he could only smile to himself.

The rain of sunshine laughter from his hat just turned his smile into a grin.

-o-o-o-

FIN.

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #Virgil Tracy #Gordon Tracy #John Tracy #marks and wings

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