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tenpintsofsundrop · 2 years ago

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Hello, this is what happens when two people who can't shut the fuck up scream at each other about fictional boyfriends. if you're one of my random followers and you actually wanna read this, please enjoy the memery. as for Star, hello <333

Star: I’m reading this on AO3 – mostly for comfort, tumblr’s post view is weird on the computer – but I just have to say that I LOVE the cover you make for the fanfics !!! theyre so fucking cute and aesthetically pleasing ! The ring is just absolutely gorgeous 🥺 and genuinely suits Gar so much 🥺

Sunny: Omg thank you <3 I actually work really hard on the covers - maybe I should start putting them on AO3 because I know you can ?? but I usually forget to do it because I think you have to insert them before you copy/paste the text. And like okay - this sounds so weird, but I sometimes get NERVOUS about posting on AO3?? Like the format for posting on there is intimidating, and I’m like “ugh, I’m gonna forget a tag, I’m gonna accidentally mark something wrong, the copy/paste isn’t gonna work” and I fret SO HARD for the ten minutes when I am trying to make my AO3 post - as opposed to when I am posting on tumblr. On tumblr, I’m like “this is my house, fuckers, HERE’S YOUR PORN”

Star: “You felt lucky that Doctor Caulder had taken you in” cracks knuckles where is that piece of shit? “At the time, Doctor Caulder was a savior to you” I really do hope his dead, I can’t remember the actual show but I think so (?)

Sunny: I am SO GLAD you finally share my beef with Doctor Caulder omg. I hate him so fucking much. (It will get even worse when you watch Season 4.) And for reference, he’s not dead in the show. Idk what happened to his character in Doom Patrol (which I have been wanting to watch so badly because of Titans, but I haven’t gotten over the autistic brain hump lmao) but when we leave his character in Titans, Rachel broke his back and left him partially paralyzed, but Cliff said that his back was broken ‘again’ so it’s heavily implied that his serum/advanced medical ways can solve that kind of paralyzed state (because inferring - it had happened to him before and he made himself able to walk again with the serum). So there are no consequences for his actions, no death. He gets the notoriety and advanced medical science that he wants by taking advantage of people who are very vulnerable and in need with no where else to turn

Star: “You had no other options, after all” This makes me so angry, specially cause its just fucking reality, I think I could write an entire essay on how fucked the US healthcare system is And not to say here things are perfect but WE DO HAVE A UNIVERSAL FREE HEALTH CARE!!! IT'S NOT PERFECT BUT IT'S THERE !! PEOPLE DON'T HAVE TO PAY FOR SHIT THEY NEED TO SURVIVE (i don't know much about Canada, which is where I think you’re from, based on context clues, but I'm pretty sure there is a free health care system there too, right?)

Sunny: I am so deeply resisting the urge to go on a long rant about Canadian health care lmao. I am Canadian and because of my chronic illness, I have a very unique perspective on our particular universal health care. Most people just say that our health care is BETTER because it’s free - but it’s really not. There are so many issues - apathetic, undertrained doctors, certain medications and procedures not being covered, people with chronic ‘non-emergent’ conditions being pushed back and minimized because our problems are multi-systematic and not easy to solve. Like so much that I CANNOT explain or encapsulate in one short section of this post. But this fic takes place in America, so the whole ‘medical debt’ thing is a very obvious plot point to use (and a very realistic one), and their health care is probably overall worse than Canada.

Star: “That’s a really pretty name. It matches you” I love that Gar is actually a really good flirt, but he’s also his own worst enemy and will second guess himself at every opportunity

Sunny: Gar is that meme ‘You look pretty!’ ‘what did you say?’ ‘I said you look shitty, goodnight!’ - he will flirt with someone, and the second they show any kind of interest back, he gets nervous and immediately backs down from it

Star: “because Gar spoke about it with so much enthusiasm” okay but I can't help picturing Gar and I infodumping about different horror movies to Rachel and Jason cause they know so little about it (Jason’s reasoning is obvious → but i personally headcanon Rachel’s adoptive mom didn't really let her watch anything that seemed too scary or dark, incase it triggered something in her or her powers)

Sunny: Gar is the infodumping KING. I can imagine him just rambling on and on, and he would get Jason to watch his favorite 00s horror movies by telling him there’s topless scenes lmao (yes, that’s my JayGar shipper coming out)

Star: “Do you need a kiss from a handsome prince to get it back?” THIS IS WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT !!!

Sunny: this was such a last minute addition but I recently saw the new little mermaid movie and I was like I HAVE TO ADD THIS

Star: “the mounting medical debt became too stressful for your parents so they abandoned you and disappeared with no way for creditors to track them down” WOOOOW TWO CHALLENGERS APPROACH !!! I hope. they're. dead : )

Sunny: tbh in my imagination, they’re not dead. But I wanted to do something other than the typical ‘my parents died and left me alone in the world’ backstory. Because something like ‘my parents abandoned me on purpose and left me alone in the world’ can be more painful and it can show the importance of a new found family

Star: “cringed slightly when you heard what sounded like the cracking of bones” … why would you make me think about the implications?

Sunny: I said this because this is what the show makes his transformation sound like, but in all honesty, I really don’t think that his transformation hurts him! I think that it’s something that feels natural for his body and it doesn’t hurt him

Star: “this was the first time that Gar had ever gone against the man on anything” GO STINK, FUCK IT UP ! GO STINK, FUCK IT UP !!

Sunny: I wanted it to be a realistic characterization so that when the show catches up with him and he brings Rachel home - which is very much against the rules, and he tries to attack the Chief because Rachel is scared and wants to stop the process of her ‘test’, it is very realistic. Also: FUCK DOCTOR CAULDER GAR SHOULD BITE HIM

Star: “Gar put a hand on your lower back” am I touched starved, or is this the single most intimate, heart warming casual touch ever ??? “he leaned down and laid a gentle, timid kiss on your forehead” second most heart warming casual touch ever

Sunny: I just kept IMAGINING how comforting Gar would be when you’re not feeling well like omg

Star: “Gar snuck out to town and picked up a book on ASL” AAAAAAAAAAAAA YES HE WOULD, IMMEDIATELY !!!! “he signed the words ‘good morning’ to you”

Sunny: I am obsessed with the idea that he would work so hard to communicate on someone else’s level - he would want to understand the person he loves because he would love the feeling of being understood (knowing and being known is one of his love languages)

Star: “He set it up as a game” Yeah yeah, yoU KNOW WHAT WAS ALSO A GAME SET UP BY A CREEPY OLD MAN ??? it's Saw, I’m talking about the Saw movies (i’ve never seen them tho, but I think it was an old man right?)

Sunny: Idk if you have seen any of it on my blog, but I am obsessed with the Saw movies. And I think that old man (John Kramer) is infinitely better than Caulder lmao

Star: “fired up his X-Box so he could teach you how to play Cuphead” I don't think I have the emotional maturity to play a game like this SKSKKS thing would either get ugly fast OR i’d just cry outta frustrating and give up on it forever (I'm also NOT GOOD AT VIDEO GAMES !! SADLY ;-; I KNOW)

Sunny: it’s a good thing that Cuphead is a co-op game and Gar would be really encouraging about it and he would teach you all the tricks to do well at it so you can beat the enemies together <3

Star: “If I’ve never seen the movie before, I should get a new question!” I’m willing to side with him on this one, especially if US history is one of the categories KSKSKS cause I'm gonna need that excuse for my turns “Trivia is a test of memory” HE’S GOT A POINT !!!

Sunny: hOW DID I KNOW YOU WERE GONNA SIDE WITH JASON HERE

Star: “Have you ever accidentally seen something you regret?” feels like a trick question KSKSKS “ her eyebrows knitted tightly, a mixture of confusion and deep thought” THAT one is on us, more context next time yep “I accidentally walked into the bathroom when Jason forgot to lock the door-” NO TIME TO UNPACK, NOPE SKSKSKS LETS KEEP THAT BOX CLOSED FOR NOW

Sunny: how do you know he wasn’t singing showtunes in the mirror??? Maybe Rachel’s regret was seeing a GIANT FUCKING NERD in the bathroom

Star: “What’s normal for the spider is chaos for the fly” I LIKE THAT !! Never heard it before either, but I LIKE IT !

Sunny: I don’t know where I originally heard this phrase ??? but when I first heard it, I LATCHED onto it, cause I am a freak weirdo (like I never wear pants because I don’t find them comfortable, if I have to go in public, I literally ONLY wear dresses/skirts and people think I am a weirdo for it) and like so many things about me are not ‘normal’ but I always wanna be like ‘this is MY version of normal’. Same for so many other people

Star: “You didn’t bother with socks or slippers” I’d rather die KSKSKKS SORRY TO BE SUCH A SOCK SNOB, BUT I WOULD RATHER DIE

Sunny: okay but ME TOO??!! I ALWAYS wear slippers, idk, it was just something random in the original draft

Star: “And he was quite a sight to behold… nothing but a pair of black boxing gloves and black sweatpants that hung dangerously low on his hips” yeah 🥵🫣 “He was pounding away…” hELLO “...at the heavy punching bag” oH “slight bit of pubic hair where he hadn’t properly tied up his sweatpants” dear lord “It swung around freely as he worked, punching hard at the weight bag” and it’d be a damn crime to keep it contained

Sunny: this entire section of the fic is what I like to call ‘the female gaze’. Look at Gar with my slutty slutty feminine eyes and slutting him up the way that a female character would be examined in a piece of work that a man wrote. And I had SO MUCH FUN writing it

Star: “If you came to train, don’t let me bother you. Apparently that’s all I am to you lately” WOOOOOOW ALRIGHT JESUS ♥️ HERE ! JUST KEEP IT, NOW THAT YOU FINISHED RIPPING IT OUT (not uncalled for but GODDAMN)

Sunny: I really wanted Gar to come off as broken down and defeated because he is the type of person to be emotionally bruised and LONELY. He gets sad boy and upset if his friends don’t give him the right attention/enough attention

Star: “he was taking off the boxing gloves, throwing them somewhere on the floor” which is SIGNIFICANTLY DIFFICULT TO DO WITH BOTH OF THEM ON !! I always have to use my teeth on the first one 🙃

Sunny: I LITERALLY DID NOT EVEN THINK ABOUT THIS?!?! CAN YOU TELL THAT I HAVE NEVER GONE ANYWHERE NEAR A GYM IN MY L I F E

Star: “Utmost” I'm embarrassed to say that genuinely I thought for years that it was UPmost (https://www.tiktok.com/@favclipsnewgirl/video/7128101049117789445 … what is an “ut”? Nick is right)

Sunny: okay but this is me. I used to think it was ‘lick a gift horse in the mouth’ when the real one is: ‘look a gift horse in the mouth’ and I was like WHY ARE WE LICKING HORSES (and I am a native English speaker)

Star: “You didn’t think his growling would ever be so sexy to you” WELL– ONE OF US CAN SAY THAT (I’ve thought about it extensively)

Sunny: the original version of this is one of the first Gar fics I ever wrote, and this is where the growling thing started for me lmao

Star: “vaguely aware of the fact that there was probably a camera somewhere in the room” well lets hope Jason is the one on security room duty tonight and not Grayson 🫢

Sunny: THIS NEEDS TO BE ITS OWN FIC. like omg I can so perfectly imagine Jason being in the security room because Dick wants him to wade through a bunch of files (really tedious shit) and then Jason starts going through the cameras out of boredom, and he sees THAT happening in the training room and he starts watching and touching himself and then later he just says the most ‘little shit’ thing to Gar like ‘you know there’s cameras in there’ and AAAAH I need to write this soon

Star: “He soon brought a whole new definition to the words ‘eating pussy’” this is another subject I could write an entire essay about… ooooohhhh ranking the titans from best to worst head (we must discuss this in length, I beg you please)

Sunny: I need to do an in-depth post about what I think their kinks are, describing their dicks for the guys, and ranking all of them on sexual performance and whether they enjoy giving or receiving more (which might fall under kinks? idk)

Star: “You’re so fucking perfect. Fuck, Y/N.” OKAY I HAVE THE FUCKING YN NAME CHANGER EXTENSION ON MY LAPTOP AND YOU DONT USE YN THAT OFTEN, I FORGOT IT WAS ON AND THIS HAD MY REAL LEGAL NAME ON IT !! I NEED YOU TO THINK ABOUT THE IMPLICATIONS NOW

Sunny: THIS IS WHY THE INTERACTIVE FICS EXTENSION PAYS OFF. the girlies who say ‘using y/n is cringe’ THEY DON’T KNOW WHAT THEY’RE FUCKIN MISSING

Star: “Was he seriously saying that he didn’t love you?” on all levels except physical, I am bonking their heads together “These were Gar’s last words to you before you stormed out of the training room” IM GONNA KILL THEM PLEASE !!!!

Sunny: this genuinely made me laugh snort omg. They NEED their fucking heads bonked together

Star: “ate your pussy like it was his fucking job” it is

Sunny: TRUE

Star: “‘We don’t get days off, Gar’ Dick pressed ‘” and you need to stop making yourself my enemy

Sunny: one of these days I am going to write enemies to lovers with Dick where the reader calls him out on all his BS and then edges him until he cries and we will finally have our revenge

Star: “Do you really think some psychotic asshole is gonna care if you have a little headache while they’re trying to kill you?” he remains the worst, friendship with Grayson over, again… where’s Hank when you need him?

Sunny: WHERE IS HANK I MISS HIMMM. Like the whole time I was writing this I was thinking about how Dawn and the reader would get along so well because they’re both soft and sweet and Dawn canonically knows ASL

Dreaming Of You

Gar Logan x Fem!Mute!Powered!Reader

Part Two: Our Past, Our Present, Our Future

Summary:

After having an argument with Gar that nearly ends your friendship, you decide to finally get over your fear of using your own powers and finally embrace them. If you do things just right, you could finally get everything that you (and Gar) have ever wanted.

Gar Logan x Fem!Mute!Powered!Reader. Best Friends to Lovers. Smut, (Slight) Angst and Fluff. Set during Season 2.

Word Count: 18,000

Titans Masterlist | AO3 Link | Series Masterlist

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List of detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: general emotional angst (due to the reader and Gar having emotional distance from having an argument at the end of the other chapter), (very light) canon level violence, mentions of medical experimentation/medical torture, the reader character has medical trauma from years of illness, mentions of medical debt, manipulation and emotional abuse (from Doctor Caulder toward Gar and the reader), mentions of burns/burn scarring, mention of the reader being abandoned by her parents, mentions of vomit (no graphic descriptions), the reader character has a seizure, (likely) improper first aid performed for a seizure, the reader has chronic illness/chronic pain, use of prescription medication, the reader is more feminine (wears lacy underwear), the reader has a vagina and uses she/her pronouns.

This chapter contains smut - both dream fantasies and played out sexual acts. The reader character is mute but all consent is enthusiastic and clear, biting/marking kink, some dirty talk, semi-public sex (having sex in the communal area of a house - also, coincidentally, the sex fic I have read where characters have sex in a space that just happens to have a camera in it), scent kink, oral - reader receiving, multiple orgasms (reader receiving), (slight) overstimulation (reader receiving), hair pulling kink (Gar receiving), it’s implied that the reader and Gar are virgins but it’s not lingered on and it’s not a plot point of the fic, unprotected sex, creampie, penis in vagina sex, rough sex, (idk how to phrase it?) marriage kink/commitment kink, passionate sex/love making, Gar calls the reader ‘wife’ (in a fantasy sequence), some mentions of blood (the reader scratches Gar’s back and draws blood by accident), I believe that’s it.

A/N: This turned out way longer than I intended. But I love it and I really hope that you guys do too!!

...

After the argument, you didn’t see Gar for the rest of the day.

When Dick came in to check on your progress with training, he immediately questioned why Gar was missing. You made up a lame excuse about how he had been feeling sick (which had to be translated to Dick by Jason) and Dick complained that all of you had to learn to ‘work through’ things like illness, but at least he didn’t question why Gar had locked himself in his room for the rest of the night and didn’t come to dinner.

After you had washed the dishes and sulked through the rest of your nightly routine, you considered knocking on Gar’s bedroom door before finally going to bed yourself - but you just couldn’t bring yourself to face him.

You had truly hurt him, and you weren’t sure how you were going to recover from it.

As you laid in bed that night, so strung up with guilt that you couldn’t sleep, you stared at the ceiling. Of course, all you could think about was Gar.

You thought back to when you had first met him - going over those first days of your friendship in your mind. The undeniable way that the two of you were drawn so close together. In friendship or in that unutterable, constantly denied romance - the two of you were soulmates.

And you had fucked it all up.

You missed your best friend so badly. You wondered where it had all gone so wrong.

…

You felt lucky that Doctor Caulder had taken you in.

Before him, before the serum, your last chance at moving out of the palliative care ward would have been offering your body as a live cadaver up for experiential treatment. It was something that might have put a dent in your medical debts, but it also would have meant a lot of pain and torture as your body was used as a trial for vastly experimental medicine and treatments - none of which were guaranteed to prolong your life as the deadly brain tumors grew to consume your brain, seemingly trapping you in a loop of pain and torture for those last few years that you had.

At the time, Doctor Caulder was a savior to you.

He used the money he had from his dense inherited wealth to pay off all of the medical debt you had acquired from your lifetime of illness, giving you only one very small catch in the face of this intense generosity. He wanted your consent to try out his serum on you, claiming that it would either do nothing to change your condition, or it would be the magical cure-all that you had been looking for.

(He conveniently let out the fact that in your state of unwellness, with your weakened body, there was a large possibility that the serum could overwhelm your senses, stopping your heart - but that was a risk he was more than willing to take.)

Honestly - while you didn’t believe him - you couldn’t bring yourself to turn him down.

You had no other options, after all.

After he injected you with the serum and you woke up with your sight fully restored, you were shocked. It had somehow shrunk down the tumor in your brain enough that it was no longer pressing on your optic nerve, and you could once again experience the world in full, glorious vision.

It was something you were entirely excited by as you arrived at what would be your new home. Doctor Caulder had described it as a ‘vacuum of scientific advancement against the bureaucracy of the world’. Naturally, you had expected some kind of cold looking industrial building, another medical center that you would be trapped inside for years to come.

You certainly hadn’t thought that it would be a sprawling, gorgeous Victorian mansion in the secluded, peaceful countryside.

He brought you inside and set down your bag. You were too busy marveling at the details of the architecture, the stunning antique decorations, taking it all in after years of being deprived of sight to truly notice anyone else in the building at first.

You didn’t notice anyone else there until Doctor Caulder spoke to him.

“Ah, Garfield, I’m glad I caught you.”

You turned at the sound of someone’s name being called. Caulder had warned you that you would be living with several other people - people who he had helped and was continuing to help with their ‘unique conditions’.

When you looked over at him, the person that Doctor Caulder had called Garfield, the only truly unique thing you spotted about him was his bright green hair. That, and the fact that he was startlingly attractive.

Garfield paused his footing halfway down the hallway as Doctor Caulder spoke to him. When he turned back around to give the man his attention, you noticed that he had a candy bar poking out of his mouth as he held it there between his teeth, and a pair of large headphones over his ears with some kind of handheld gaming system in his hands. He reached up and moved one half of the headphones off to the side when he realized his full attention was needed. Then he bit off the candy bar, moving to shove the rest of it, mostly still wrapped, into the pocket of his large green hoodie.

“What’s up, Chief?” He asked, his mouth obviously stuck together by the candy and some chocolate slightly smeared on the side of his mouth.

“Garfield, please don’t talk with your mouth full.” Caulder - apparently the Chief, quickly scolded him.

You guessed that he found it rude because he was more uptight and proper, more old fashioned. But it was something that you easily found adorable and charming.

Garfield hung his head in shame and made a clear effort to swallow, running his tongue over his teeth to somewhat clean his mouth before he spoke again.

“Sorry.” He mumbled quietly. “Did you need something?”

It was then that he really eyed you up and down, as though he had just noticed you standing there.

You felt entirely out of place, but tried your best not to look nervous, and simply smiled as his eyes landed on your face. You noticed a small tinge of pink come over his cheeks when he finally made eye contact with you. His eyes made a quick jolt back to the carpet, obviously nervous and not wanting to linger on you.

“I’m sure you’ve heard Cliff mention my newest patient.” Doctor Caulder told him, gently motioning toward you. “Y/N will be staying with us for the foreseeable future while I explore her condition and any affects the serum has had on her.”

Garfield nodded at this. The wild tendrils of his green hair bobbed in a very adorable way with the motion, and you suppressed a giggle because of it.

“I’ll need you to show her around and help her get settled in for now, because I need to go up to my office and work on some notes while everything is still fresh in my mind. I’d like not to be disturbed for the next few hours, is that clear?” Doctor Caulder ordered, his voice calm, but oddly stern.

Garfield’s face twisted slightly into a frown, as though he was afraid of the possible consequences if he did disturb the man. But nonetheless, he nodded once again.

“Understood.” He said simply.

Doctor Caulder gave him a curt nod and then walked up the stairs, leaving you in the hands of your seemingly meek, very handsome tour guide.

He stepped toward you, and then realized the game console was still beeping in his hands. So he pushed a few buttons, shutting it off, and then he shoved it into his pocket as well before he slid his large headphones to sit around his neck.

“Hi, I’m Garfield. You probably heard that. But you can just call me Gar. I prefer it.” He rushed these words out in a puff of air, seemingly still very nervous to be in your presence.

You nodded at this. Before you could communicate in any way that you wouldn’t really be ‘calling’ him anything because of your mutism, he let out a huff - something akin to a nervous laugh and steamed rolled right into more conversation. He didn’t really seem to mind your silence.

“Y/N, right?” He posed, easily remembering your name from when Doctor Caulder had introduced you.

You nodded once again, giving him a small smile.

“That’s a really pretty name. It matches you. I mean- I-” He stumbled over his words, clearly nervous that he had unintentionally said something flirtatious. “I’m supposed to introduce you to everyone, right? Come on.”

He then took you on a tour of the sprawling house, his chatter filling the air in a most perfect way. The more he talked, the more he seemed to gain confidence around you. He became filled with energy, fueled by the things he was saying. Especially when he spoke about the house and the daily life that he lived there, pointing out the different rooms and where you could make yourself comfortable. His words filled the space so well that he didn’t seem to notice the fact that you couldn’t talk.

As he took you on the tour, you came across the different eclectic members of the household and Gar introduced you to them. And you very quickly came to realize what Doctor Caulder had meant by ‘unique conditions’.

If you didn’t have your vision freshly restored in order to see it, you likely wouldn’t have believed it. But they were very real.

Gar introduced you to Cliff - someone who looked more like a machine than a man, squeaky joints and all. But it quickly became apparent to you that he had a shining personality underneath all that metal, and his humanity wasn’t easily defined by something like rust and bolts. He was working on a half-disassembled car in the large garage, and Gar explained to you how the mostly mechanical man was an ex-racer who had gotten into a bad accident and been put back together by The Chief.

He then introduced you to Larry - who was in the kitchen, baking some kind of very tall, very impressive multi-layered cake (apparently in celebration of your arrival). He made a comment about you ‘being rather quiet’ and you just shrugged. They would probably be amused later when they found out why.

Larry didn’t want to comment much or explain the reason that his entire body was covered in bandages, and you understood why. In your mind, you assumed that he had been badly burned and the bandages covered some kind of scarring. The visual reminded you of people who had passed through the palliative care ward with severe burns over their bodies and didn’t survive long because of it. But he seemed to move without pain and he was obviously thriving, so whatever Doctor Caulder had done for him - it had worked.

Gar tried to introduce you to the last member of the household - Rita - but when he knocked on her bedroom door, he was met with silence. He simply told you that she likely wasn’t feeling well. And that you understood deeply as well.

The house tour extended down into the basement, because Gar was very excited to show you his room. You couldn’t bring yourself to disrupt his rolling speech or dampen down his swell of excitable energy.

He was showing you some of his movie posters - something for a movie called Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein. It was a movie you had never heard of before, and you only found yourself truly paying attention in order to learn about it now because Gar spoke about it with so much enthusiasm.

“-it’s considered one of the first examples of parody ever in cinema, an effort to take horror, something that truly terrified audiences at the time, and turn it comedic. Like shining a light on that monster under the bed so he’s no longer scary. It’s brilliant.”

Gar rambled on, his breath almost entirely escaping him as his enthusiasm overpowered his lungs.

You couldn’t help but to feel a swell of fondness as you looked at him.

His passion was so intensely palpable, it gave you goosebumps. It was a very old film that you likely wouldn’t have taken an interest in. But the way he talked about it - like it was revolutionary, like it was the most interesting thing in the world. It made you want to watch it ten times just to get to know him better, just to have a small taste of the passion that he felt so epically for it.

You didn’t know it then, but feeling his overwhelming enthusiasm spreading in the air was the beginnings of your very intense crush on him. It was the moment that you started falling for him.

“You know originally, Lou Costello scoffed at the idea of even making-” Gar suddenly cut himself off, a look of dawning crossing his features. “Woah, I’ve been talking for such a long time, haven’t I?”

Technically, yes.

But you would have been perfectly content to stand there and listen to him talk for hours more about this film or any of the others related to posters that he had on the wall. His enthusiasm and the way it was backed up by factual knowledge made him endlessly interesting to listen to.

In response, you simply shrugged.

Yes, he had been talking for a long time. But - you enjoyed listening. His tone and the abrupt way he had cut himself off made it sound like he had burdened you with his ramblings, and you weren’t sure why.

“Sorry.” He giggled, scratching the back of his neck nervously. “I’m probably being so annoying. I haven’t even let you talk about yourself at all. What - what kind of movies do you like?”

He seemed nervous suddenly, as though he had become self conscious in the conversation.

You filled with nerves as well, coming to the realization that you would now have to communicate to him that you couldn’t talk.

You motioned toward your throat, hoping he would be able to see the scar from the surgery that had stolen your ability to speak so long ago. Rather than understanding, Gar’s face knit with confusion.

“What, did the sea witch steal your voice?” He asked. The action reminded him a lot of that cartoon mermaid, desperately tapping on her throat, trying to explain to others why she couldn’t speak. “Do you need a kiss from a handsome prince to get it back?”

The words escaped him before he could stop it - and then he realized that it sounded entirely more flirtatious than he intended.

He bit his lip nervously and you let out a giggle. You became entirely overwhelmed by your own nerves, and your undeniable attraction toward him. If you were feeling at all bold, you might have leaned over and kissed him in that moment. But something in the back of your mind told you that it was rude - that he hadn’t truly meant it, that it was strange to come onto him so soon after meeting him.

When the awkwardness swelled inside of him, he rushed to speak again.

“Sorry,” He blurted out. “That was probably insensitive. If you’re really mute, that’s like a disability, and you shouldn’t make jokes about people’s disabilities-”

You vigorously shook your head, meaning to tell him that ‘no, I liked the joke’.

But his eyes instantly grew wide, believing that you were shaking your head negatively, believing that he was truly being insensitive and rude.

You raised your hands and began explaining it in sign language, and he sighed in defeat.

“I’m sorry.” He said. “I don’t - I don’t understand.”

Then, a look of dawning came over his face so strong it was almost as if a cartoon lightbulb appeared over his head. He then rushed into the other room - there was some ripping of paper (what you didn’t know was him ripping pages he had used out of a notebook so that you wouldn’t see them). After a moment, he rushed back toward you, thrusting a notebook and a pen in your direction.

You took it happily, and began writing.

‘Yes, I am completely mute. Yes, it is technically a disability. And yes, I did think your joke about the sea witch was funny. But… I don’t think a kiss from a prince will fix me.’

You passed it to him and after he read it, he gave a small chuckle.

“Yeah, that wasn’t so smooth on my part.” He said. “What happened? To your voice?”

You explained it to him. You spent a long time passing the notebook back and forth, explaining things to him about yourself and your life.

You told him how you had been ill for as long as you could remember, and it had only gotten worse as you progressed into your teen years. And eventually, the mounting medical debt became too stressful for your parents so they abandoned you and disappeared with no way for creditors to track them down. They had left you orphaned in the most cruel way.

Gar’s eyes danced with tears when he read this. You didn’t know it then, but he vowed to himself that he would always be by your side. He would be the one person who never left you, no matter what happened in life that might try to draw the two of you apart.

‘Can I ask you something?’ You scrawled out, passing the notebook to Gar with careful curiosity on your mind.

“Yeah, anything.” He replied.

‘Why are you here? What is Doctor Caulder helping you with?’

You were tempted to add on something about how he ‘looked normal’ - but you didn’t want to accidentally insult him.

“My condition… it’s uh…” Gar stuttered through his attempt at an explanation, and confusion flooded your features. “It’s probably just easier if I show you?”

You nodded in acknowledgement that you understood, and Gar put the notebook aside and stood from the couch where the two of you had been seated, talking for hours.

“Would you - uh - would you mind closing your eyes for a second?” He asked, once again draped in that nervous energy.

You hesitated for a second, but then complied. You weren’t sure how him ‘showing’ you would go if you had your eyes closed. But you trusted him to harness in that condition - whatever strange ability the serum had given and not let it hurt you. You felt safe around him even though you had only known him for a short time. And you wanted to make him comfortable rather than arguing about it.

You were curious when you heard some gentle rustling, and you cringed slightly when you heard what sounded like the cracking of bones. You hoped that whatever he was doing, it didn’t cause him any pain.

Your curiosity became too great and you opened your eyes when you heard a low rumbling. If you weren’t mistaken, it sounded like the purring of a very large cat.

Shock instantly overtook you when you opened your eyes to see that standing in front of you in the middle of the carpet - rather than Gar - there was a very large tiger with bright green fur. When your sight had been restored, you never, ever thought that this would be one of the first things you would get to see.

Your first instinct was to pull your feet up onto the couch, and the tiger - which you quickly had to reason was Gar, who had somehow shifted his body into a different form - hung his head in shame when he saw the fear overtake your body. You didn’t want to be afraid of him. You shouldn’t be, right? He had been nothing but kind to you since the two of you had met. He wouldn’t use this odd power to endanger you.

When you looked into those large animal eyes, you saw nothing but kindness. And you couldn’t resist the urge to step off the couch and lean out, petting a hand gently under his furry chin.

It was then that you were struck with the realization. The dream you had of being married to a large green tiger - it had likely meant something.

But you couldn’t bring yourself to linger on it.

Instead, you scratched under his chin and he purred, and you giggled at the fact that such a large, possibly terrifying animal was so docile under your touch.

(When Gar transformed back, you would deny that you snuck a glance at him changing back into his clothes. And you would definitely deny that you became obsessed with what you saw.)

…

Later that night, you met Rita when she came down to join everyone for dinner. She was a lovely, sweet woman. She was actually the only person (aside from Doctor Caulder) at the table who understood your ASL, though she didn’t seem eager to explain where she had learned it. You knew that everyone in the house had somewhat of a painful past, so you didn’t bother to ask.

The cake Larry had made turned out beautiful. A towering masterpiece that everyone had to purposefully crane their necks around as they spoke to each other. You couldn’t help but marvel in wonder at it and the rest of the amazing spread he had made. Gar told you that it really wasn’t that out of the ordinary, seeing as cooking was Larry’s favorite hobby.

You felt slightly bad for Cliff - seeing as he sat with an empty plate in front of him. But he seemed to show up to the meal mostly out of habit, family obligation, and a slight curiosity to get to know you. So you tried your best to answer everyone’s questions and be welcoming to the new friendships.

You enjoyed the meal well. Everything was delicious, and compared to the food you once ate on the ward - it was heaven. Everything seemed to be going perfectly.

Larry cut the cake and made sure that you got the first slice - which you selected from the towering variety of many different flavors. He cited that he didn’t know what your favorite flavor was, so he made a good variety as insurance. The taste of lemon was sweet on your tongue and you were enjoying yourself - when one of the lights began flickering.

It was just a few flashes above your head, just for a few moments, but it was enough to send a sharp pain shooting through the middle of your forehead and instantaneously cause a wave of nausea through your stomach. You dropped your fork onto your plate with a clatter, and everyone craned their necks around the towering cake to look at you. Gar immediately got up from his chair to rush to your side, wondering what was wrong.

“Are you okay?” He asked quietly.

Your senses were overwhelmed by dizziness, a horrid feeling that your eyes were churning inside of your skull. Sharp waves of pain radiated out from the middle of your forehead and seemingly caused the world to turn wildly underneath your feet.

You didn’t know that the harsh unwellness was visible all over your face - from your unpleasant expression to the light layer of sweat that had so quickly formed over your skin.

You shook your head, attempting to confirm to him that you were not okay. But this only caused the pain to worsen, and you held back a harsh gag, trying your hardest to keep the amazing dinner inside.

“You need to lay down.” Gar said quietly.

You felt safe under his touch and you let him guide you as he pulled out your chair. He put one hand around your back and used the other to take your hand as he helped you up and guided you away. You let your eyes fall closed against the harsh light as his hand came to rest on your waist, a calming comfort against the harsh pain throbbing through you. You let yourself lean on him for support as he did as promised - took you to lay down.

You were partway up the stairs when a voice disrupted you.

“Garfield.”

Doctor Caulder called after him harshly, causing Gar to pause his movements. You leaned on the bannister and kept your eyes closed. You had to concentrate hard on willing yourself not to vomit while Gar was distracted with the conversation.

“This is an important opportunity to study her condition, you should be taking her to-” Caulder began to argue against Gar’s actions, but he was cut off.

“She needs to lay down.” Gar argued quietly. “She’s had a long day. She needs rest. You can do your studies tomorrow.”

You didn’t know it, but this was the first time that Gar had ever gone against the man on anything. Doctor Caulder stood there in shock at Gar’s sudden shift in attitude while Gar put a hand on your lower back once again and helped you the rest of the way up the stairs.

He helped you into bed and pulled the covers over you. And then he got a hot cloth to put on your forehead, and got a bucket to put beside the bed in case you did throw up. It was then that you knew you would never feel properly cared for again unless it came from him.

When he thought that you weren’t paying attention, half sleepy and half drowned in the pain, he leaned down and laid a gentle, timid kiss on your forehead, right above the cloth.

…

Later that night, after everyone had fallen asleep, Gar snuck out to town and picked up a book on ASL. He was especially careful that his teeth didn’t pierce any of the pages.

He used the rest of the night to study, and he greeted you the next morning with a tray of gentle breakfast food (porridge, hopefully something that wouldn’t aggravate your upset stomach) and Advil. Despite the pain throbbing through your head, you broke into a beaming smile when he signed the words ‘good morning’ to you.

It was then that you realized just how much you were going to have to suppress your feelings for him.

…

Later in the day, Doctor Caulder was carrying out his tests as promised.

He had you in a different part of the basement - in an area that essentially looked like an operating room. Just seeing the tables and all the cold medical equipment triggered a lot of your fight or flight instincts, but you tried your hardest to remain calm. Especially because Gar was by your side, even though he likely could have been playing video games or doing something else a lot more fun. He told you that he would stay by you the entire time to make sure that you were comfortable.

You tried to relax and trust the process.

Doctor Caulder had adjusted the table, propping up the top of it so that it was much more like a chair. And he had wheeled in a large machine that consisted of a series of lightbulbs - something that turned out to be a strobe light, set to make specific patterns. He had taped several electrical probes to your head, ones connected to an EEG machine. Although he knew that this procedure was likely to trigger a seizure, he said that it was important for it to occur because your neurological problems were closely tied to your powers, and the areas of the brain that the serum had affected. He said that it was something important to measure - even if a seizure happened.

“Just face forward, and keep looking into the light.” Doctor Caulder explained. “It will go through a series of flashing patterns. I need you to try your hardest to keep your eyes open, and stay focused. It’s important that we record your brain activity while this is happening without disruption.”

You nodded in affirmation. You weren’t looking forward to the pain that it would cause considering that your head was still thumping with a migraine from the night before, but if he considered it necessary, you would do it.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Gar asked. “How do you know this isn’t just gonna cause more harm?”

He was standing beside the table, holding your hand, and you were entirely grateful for his presence there.

He had seen the way you had reacted to a relatively dim chandelier bulb flickering at dinner the night before. He thought that this would be disastrous.

“Garfield, if you continue to question me, then I’ll have to ask you to leave.” Doctor Caulder told him curtly. “You can’t keep disrupting the process like this. We need to move forward.”

Doctor Caulder glared at Gar, giving him a moment to make his choice. To see if he was going to speak up and argue or remain quiet. Gar looked to you, wanting to see if you were truly okay with all of this. Nerves boiled in your stomach, but you feigned a smile, and squeezed his hand tighter, assuring him that you needed him there - right by your side.

Gar then nodded at Doctor Caulder, who stood behind the machine with the lights and turned it on. Gar flinched hard against the lights as they began to flicker. He turned his head away and closed his eyes, but he kept a tight hold on your hand.

Though it went against every screaming, pained nerve in your body, especially the ones pulsing through your head - you fought to keep your eyes open. Your carefully tuned hearing picked up on the scribbling needles of the EEG machine, Gar’s breathing. You could even hear the electricity sizzling in the bulbs as they went through three long flashes and then turned off. Three long flashes, and then off.

You survived the first pattern well before it switched to two quick flashes and then a period of seemingly prolonged darkness - something that wasn’t any more than three whole seconds in reality.

The moment that it switched to the intense, rapid strobing - you felt it. The tingling in your hands, the dizzying haze that said you were only moments away from having a seizure.

You had no time to warn either of them, especially considering that this was the first seizure you had post-serum, and it had unexpected size effects.

As your muscles became tight and your body began to violently seize, the house itself began to quake around you. It was as though the building were at the epicenter of a violent earthquake. Later, Doctor Caulder would come to the conclusion that your seizures now caused ‘rapid bursts of psychic energy’ to be released from you, completely uncontrolled by you. He realized that you would be needed to put on a high dose seizure medication to prevent any further incidents.

In those moments, though, it was chaos.

Between the shaking of the house underneath you and the unpredictable seizing of your muscles, you quickly rolled off the table. Gar easily caught you in a moment’s notice. Across the room, Doctor Caulder made a similar movement - reaching urgently to catch the EEG machine before it fell off of its own table.

When the quaking stopped, and you were left quivering in Gar’s arms, he couldn’t help but to feel a rush of disappointment as he saw the obvious play out before his eyes - Doctor Caulder was far more eager to save his data, to preserve the research that you had given him than to actually take care of you - his patient who was clearly in need.

“What was that?” Gar breathed out, looking from your unconscious face to the surrounding room. He didn’t think that it was a large coincidence that an earthquake had struck at the exact same time as your seizure and had lasted exactly as long.

“I believe that her powers were responsible for that.” Doctor Caulder theorized. “We’ll likely have to do more research to fully comprehend it-”

He abruptly cut off his own words when the scribbling needles of the EEG machine stopped.

Gar began peeling the probes off your forehead and Doctor Caulder only looked up toward you when the EEG flatlined as it was disconnected.

“Garfield, what do you think you’re doing?” Caulder barked at him.

“We’re done right now.” Gar said, his voice choked off by his anger. “Clearly, this isn’t helping. She needs rest.”

Gar resisted the urge to say more. He resisted the urge to berate Doctor Caulder for harming you. He resisted the urge to swear. He resisted the urge to threaten to run away with you - taking away Doctor Caulder’s precious source of research so that the two of you would never be seen again.

He had no clue that his anger was so intense that it flared up in his eyes, threatened to invoke his transformation against his will.

He felt calmer when he looked down at you, and petted a hand across your forehead. Although you were forced into unconsciousness because of the seizure, you looked peaceful and calm with your face so still, your eyes closed and your muscles finally relaxed. He hoped that you would feel better soon.

That was the day Doctor Caulder decided to start keeping a tranq gun near the operating table.

…

Things were quiet for a few days after that.

Doctor Caulder said that he needed time to go over the results of the EEG, and he didn’t want to induce anymore seizures in you for fear that it might bring down the house. So he did let you rest.

But in the interim, he didn’t check up on you or attend to any of your medical needs. He locked himself in his office to contemplate the science of it all while Gar stuck by your side. He held the bucket and rubbed your back while you puked, he held a hot cloth to your forehead when you needed it. He held a spoon up to your lips to feed you because your hands were too weak after being rocked by such a harsh seizure.

After a few days, you were almost thankful to Doctor Caulder for it. You and Gar were growing incredibly close so quickly because he refused to leave your side, and you had never felt so lucky to have someone like him in your life.

You hesitated when Doctor Caulder called you into his office upstairs.

He made a poor apology for the incident with the lights. He said that he was sorry for causing you pain, but it was ‘necessary’ to explore your condition, to map your brain and find out how the serum had affected you.

He said that the next step would be further exploring your strange powers. The powers you had accidentally discovered while transitioning out of the hospital. When one of the nurses had been attending to you, you had looked into her eyes, and you couldn’t even fully identify the feeling at the time. But suddenly, you knew this shocking, painful information. One of the other patients on the ward who you had come to know as a friend wasn’t going to live much longer. And when you had asked the nurse about it, she had accused you of snooping, reading through files - because the information was supposed to be confidential.

But Doctor Caulder - who had witnessed the conversation - easily saw it for what it truly was. An unnatural power given to you by his serum.

He then called Gar into his office as well - someone you obviously trusted and could work well with.

He set it up as a game.

He had written down several things on flashcards. You and Gar would sit across from each other, and Gar would read one of the flashcards, fully capturing the idea in his mind. And then you would use your powers to try and push into his mind - figuring out what was on the card without him ever speaking a single word or giving any hints.

As you sat across from him, preparing to begin, you were incredibly hesitant.

‘Are you sure about this?’

You wrote this as a message to Gar on one of the blank index cards. They were intended for you to write the answers that you retrieved from his mind during the ‘game’. You intentionally held back with the message, not fully describing your worries. You wanted to ask if he was okay with you breaching the privacy of his mind, but you were worried about Doctor Caulder seeing it, because you knew the man didn’t like to be questioned.

You flipped it around to show Gar, and he simply nodded after he read it.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Gar assured you with a smile. “It’s just a game, right?” He grinned. “It’ll be fun.”

You didn’t quite think so. But you tried to take on his positive attitude.

“Let’s begin.” Caulder said. He was standing behind Gar in a very imposing manner, reading the cards as well to ensure that he didn’t flub the answers just to please the Doctor.

Gar picked up the first card and read it, and he concentrated on it for a moment, making sure that the idea was focused in his mind. He gave a small nod, and then looked up toward you, knowing that he had to make steady eye contact with you in order for you to use your powers.

Pushing past your discomfort, you did as you had been instructed. You stared deep into those big beautiful brown eyes, and you purposefully breached the surface into his mind. The first thing you were met with was a rich visual of several golden retriever puppies frolicking in a field of grass, happily yipping and prancing around, almost tripping over their clumsy new feet.

You soon withdrew - even though it was a happy scene that gave you joy, you knew that you had the answer. You had an unconscious grin on your face, and that easily made Gar giggle as you flipped over the message you had made to him and wrote down your answer on the other side.

‘Puppies’

You lifted up the card and showed it to Doctor Caulder, who took a glance down at the card in Gar’s hand (which said ‘DOG’). He nodded at you, his stern face not flexing for a moment to show any sign of positivity. He picked up a clipboard from a small table on the chair beside Gar and began furiously scribbling.

“Continue.” He said, not looking up from his fast paced notes.

Gar looked down at the next card, took the same moment of concentration, and then looked back at you with a small grin on his face.

This time, rather than feeling like you were committing some kind of crime or doing him a grand disservice, you looked into his eyes and pushed into his mind with a gleeful joy - as though the two of you were sharing a delightful secret.

The next rich visual you saw featured Gar himself. He wore a pair of tight jeans and a leather jacket with some red tee shirt underneath, and he walked up to a red car - a very fancy, vintage looking car. He opened the door, got inside, and adjusted the mirror to look at himself before he stomped on the gas pedal and the car sped away with a screech. It was a very ‘cool guy’ moment, something that made you giggle because of the stereotypical absurdity of it.

When you drifted back into the real world, you went to the next index card, and had more of a difficult time figuring out how to phrase your answer.

You went with:

‘Driving a car?’

When you held it up to show Doctor Caulder, he checked Gar’s card, which simply said ‘CAR’. He frowned, and you thought that you had gotten the answer wrong.

“You have to concentrate more, Garfield.” Caulder scolded him.

Gar’s face dropped into a frown, and it made your chest twinge with sourness. You thought that a face as sweet as his should never have to frown.

“You got it right.” He told you quietly, before flipping to the next one.

You nodded. You hated the way that Caulder treated him. If you could scream at the man, you would.

Gar waffled for a few moments, looking at the card with blank eyes before he then looked up at you. There was a slight glassiness swimming there that told you he was ready to cry, along with the hesitation of a quivering lip. You wanted to end the entire exercise and simply retreat to the basement to play video games with him, but you knew that Caulder likely wouldn’t let you get away with that.

So you continued.

You used your powers once again, purposefully entering Gar’s mind.

You were surprised by the scene you were met with.

It was a vision of you and Gar - it was almost like a beautiful painting, like a fantastic daydream.

You were off in some grassy field, seemingly the same place the puppies had been. Lush greenery, boundless blue skies, warm sunshine that you could almost feel tingling against your skin. The two of you were holding hands - and the most peculiar thing that stuck out to you?

Your attire.

Gar was wearing a formal black suit with a green tie and a green vest to match his naturally wild green hair. You were wearing a long, lacy white dress that you couldn’t mistake for anything other than a wedding dress. There was a bundle of flowers looped around your head in a large crown, with a long, flowy lace veil going down your back, and a bundle of flowers in your free hand that wasn’t holding his.

It was a wedding, a marriage.

At the time, however foolish it was, you didn’t consider the scene to be any specific desire on Gar’s part. You simply thought that he was trying to communicate the idea - the concept to you. You thought that it was just part of the game.

When you pulled yourself back to reality, you felt entirely confident in your answer as you wrote it down.

‘A wedding’

When you flipped it over to show them, you were grinning proudly.

Gar’s face immediately dropped - embarrassment clutched at his stomach and panic overtook him. Caulder sighed with annoyance as he looked at Gar’s card, which said ‘WATER’.

Before any further discussion of it could be had, Gar dropped the cards and they scattered over the floor. He rushed out of the room, moving so swiftly that he was practically a blur. Doctor Caulder called after him, complaints wafting through the air.

You didn’t care to listen to the man. You got up and chased him, almost tripping over your own feet to get to him.

You caught him as he zipped up his jacket, clearly ready to escape out the basement door and go into town (something he told you he was not permitted to do, but often did anyway). You stepped right in front of his path. He sighed hard through his nose and tried to dodge you, and you stepped in front of him and kept blocking him. Eventually, he was forced to look up at you.

It was then - when you saw the look of a truly kicked puppy spread across his features, naked embarrassment lingering in his eyes - that the truth clutched at your stomach. You got the sense that what you had seen was truly private.

Part of you wanted to prod at him about his desires and ask why he had been thinking about that. But a larger part of you worried far more about the fact that you had upset him with the freakish invasion by your powers, and you wanted to remedy it. You wanted to save this amazing new friendship.

With the index cards and pen still in your hand, you quickly wrote a message to him.

‘I’m sorry.’

You wrote down, and then quickly flipped it to show him.

“It’s fine.” He huffed, clearly eager to escape the conversation.

Once again, he tried to dodge around you.

Once again, you blocked his path.

And then, you wrote down something else to show him.

‘It’s not fine. I shouldn’t use my powers on you like it’s a game.’

“The Chief needs to explore your abilities, right?” Gar sighed quietly.

��Not at your expense.’ You reasoned.

Gar was silent when he came into this information - like this was the first time he had ever truly considered that the Chief’s methods were unethical.

‘We should make a deal. I shouldn’t use my powers on you unless it’s an emergency. Your mind should be your private space. I don’t get to go poking around in there for fun.’

You scribbled this down with haste, feeling very emotional about it. Then you handed it to Gar.

He gave a small smile and nodded after he read it.

“That - uh - that sounds fair.” He said, chuckling nervously. “And we… we don’t have to talk about what you saw.”

You both nodded and dissolved into giggles at this. And then, he took off his jacket, and fired up his X-Box so he could teach you how to play Cuphead to help the two of you forget about the whole thing.

…

Back in your room at Titans Tower, so long after those first amazing days of your friendship with Gar - you fell asleep deep in thought about him. You couldn’t stop going over those early days in your mind. Thinking about all the intense kindness he had given you when the two of you had first met.

Thinking about all of it truly made you realize how badly you had fucked up. You genuinely wondered if your friendship with him would ever have any chance at recovering from the cruelty you had shown him.

You were genuinely stuck between a rock and a hard place. You thought that if you told him about the things that had happened - about the visions you had seen - even if you stressed to him that it had been by accident, then he would feel that you had violated his privacy. He would be wounded by you seeing into his mind and not reporting it to him right away. He would be upset that your powers had put a wedge between the two of you. And now, he was upset because you had stolen his secrets and you weren’t confiding any of yours in him.

You were a bad friend. And you didn’t know how to make it up to him.

You woke up the next day feeling like crap.

You quickly realized that Gar was avoiding you. He did finally come out of his room because Dick banged on his bedroom door, demanding in a harsh voice that if his illness was really that serious, he needed to get it checked out. And Gar came out shoving a hoodie over his head saying that he was fine - while wearing the saddest expression you had seen over his face in a long time.

When you placed a coffee cup down in front of him as a peace offering - dark roast filled one third with vegan marshmallow flavored creamer, just how he liked it - he distinctly ignored it. He didn’t even look at you as he got up from the breakfast bar stool, taking nothing more than a dry piece of toast for breakfast before he stormed off toward the training room.

He placed himself in a secluded corner of the gym with his headphones blasting music, doing harsh pushups and pummeling the punching bag. He was making it very clear that he wanted to be left alone. And even when Dick called all four of you into another room for a verbal quiz on The Art of War (where you wrote down your answers on a white board) - Gar refused to make eye contact with you.

Even when you drew a satirical comic of Dick’s Robin cape being propelled by a fart (that you labeled ‘pent up aggression’) - Gar’s face didn’t flinch from the hard stone it had been set into. It made Jason snort water out of his nose and caused Rachel to call you both ‘immature’. And it got you a verbal lashing from Dick and three weeks of washing the dishes - by hand. So not worth it considering that Gar hadn’t even cracked a smile.

Gar’s cold indifference toward you rolled right into dinner. Gar didn’t flinch or try to take sides when Jason and Rachel broke into an argument about what had happened during game night. Jason brought up how stupid the concept of the game had been and he and Rachel began arguing about the rules.

(“If I’ve never seen the movie before, I should get a new question!”

“That’s not how it works, dickweed! Trivia is supposed to be difficult because you don’t know the answers!”

“So not true. Trivia is a test of memory. How am I even supposed to remember the answer if I don’t know the damn source material?!”)

The argument lasted long enough for you to finish your meal.

When Dick realized they were debating who was the true loser of the bet you had made, he pointed out that regardless of any bets, you had to do the dishes as punishment for the dumb little drawing you had made. You didn’t care all that much as long as it got Jason and Rachel to shut up - but Jason was all too smug about it as he handed you his plate. Once you had finished cleaning up, something you found oddly calming, a nice distraction from the chaos of the last few days - you found yourself wandering to Rachel’s door.

Much like you, she didn’t talk about her powers often.

Especially not since she had been tricked into summoning her demon father to earth and then she had been forced to kill him because of what he did to all her friends - the people she considered family. But you knew that like you, she had some kind of capability to see into other people’s minds - to delve into their memories or walk the long, winding halls of their thoughts. You knew she might be the only other person on earth who might be able to understand what you were going through. Someone who could give you some kind of solid advice about it.

After steeling yourself with a sharp breath, you raised your hand and knocked, waiting to see if she would even answer. The music that she was playing stopped, and after a moment, she opened the door, a look of surprise knitting over her features when her eyes fell upon you.

“Y/N.” She greeted you in a quiet voice. “What is it?”

‘I need to talk to you.’ You signed to her. You had some hope that she would understand what you meant, but her face was immediately overtaken with confusion.

“I’m sorry - I.” She sighed, quickly cutting herself off, looking for the right words to explain it. “Between Dick’s whole list of mandatory reading stuff, and the sparring practice… I’ve been meaning to, but I haven’t had any time to study sign language,”

She had genuine regret in her voice, which you could appreciate.

You exhaled through your nose, a deep sigh.

You gently pushed past her, inviting yourself into her room to settle in for the conversation. It did frustrate you that ASL wasn’t just a common language that was taught in schools, especially because it was psychologically proven that it was easy for toddlers to pick up on it with their brains being at a developmental age for it. It frustrated you that sometimes it was difficult for you to communicate with the people around you. But you tried not to let it get to you often.

You got your cell phone out of your pocket, gesturing with it to let her know you would be texting her the things you needed to say. It was a simple, easy system. You invited yourself to sit on her bed, flopping back among the messy, unmade dark sheets as you carefully chose and typed out the words you needed to say. Rachel settled back into her desk chair, turning on her music once more, adjusting the volume to a low hum that settled into the background. You recognized it as the Arctic Monkeys and silently admired her taste in music.

‘Have you ever accidentally seen something you regret?’

You sent the message. It took only a moment to race through cyberspace and you heard Rachel’s phone ping where it sat on the desk beside her.

She picked up the phone and looked at your message. She then looked back at you with her eyebrows knitted tightly, a mixture of confusion and deep thought pulling them tight together.

“Well there was that one time I accidentally walked into the bathroom when Jason forgot to lock the door-” She began.

You cut her off with a raised hand and a pair of wide eyes glaring her down.

You looked back to your phone and began typing another message, wanting to clarify what you meant.

‘With your powers. Have you ever seen something with your powers that you didn’t want to see?’ You typed it out quickly, hitting send.

Rachel read it over, placing her phone against her chin pensively as she contemplated the answer.

“I… I don’t know.” Her voice was thick with thought. “I used to have these horrible nightmares. Almost every single night. And now I realize that those nightmares are what led me here. And I wouldn’t have been able to stop Trigon if I hadn’t seen those things.”

Your throat tightened up.

You and Rachel had never really talked like this before. You almost felt bad asking her for advice, knowing your problems were very different from hers. Quite pedestrian compared to the woes of somebody who had literally stopped the apocalypse and saved your life, and everyone else’s. You were worried about a school girl crush and she had the weight of the world on her shoulders.

“Why, what did you see?” Her curiosity leaked through her lips. She had quickly connected the dots to realize that you wouldn’t be asking questions like this if you hadn’t seen something of significance.

Naturally, you weren’t going to tell her the details. Not only because the things you had seen were incredibly graphic, revealing, and private, but because you did suspect that she had some kind of small crush on Gar. And you didn’t want to crush her small hope of being with him and make her upset. Especially considering you had seen what she could do when she was upset.

You opened the one-way text conversation and thought for a moment, carefully contemplating what you would tell her.

‘I saw something private. Something I probably wasn’t supposed to see.’ You sent the vague words, and she read them over quickly.

“What, like a sex dream?” She posed.

There was a laugh on the edge of her voice, as though she was only joking. But the accuracy of the comedic prod scared you. You wanted to change the topic quickly - before she truly sniffed out the truth.

‘Doesn’t matter.’ You sent quickly. When she saw the three small bubbles pop up, indicating that you were typing more, she simply waited. ‘Have you ever felt weird acting on information you’ve gotten from your dreams? Doesn’t it feel like cheating the system? Like you should just shut up and pretend to be normal?’

Rachel sighed, a sharp breath that clung to the insides of her throat. She placed her phone down in her lap and leaned back in her desk chair, swaying slightly with the swivel of the rolling chair’s base.

“I don’t think any of us can just pretend to be normal.” She noted quietly.

Rachel’s words were calm and wise. It was something she had probably realized about herself a long time ago. It was a truth you had yet to fall to. You caught glimpses of the future in your dreams, you could see things about people they never dared to admit to themselves. You were in love with a man who could turn himself into a tiger at will, and yet, your heart still cried for something that resembled ‘normal’.

Rachel saw it written all over your face - that warring. And more of that oddly aged wisdom came pouring from her lips before she could stop it.

“What’s that saying?” She pondered aloud. “‘What’s normal for the spider is chaos for the fly.’”

It was a saying you had never heard of before, but it was oddly comforting in those moments. The idea that ‘normal’ means something drastically different for everyone.

When you didn’t say anything, didn’t pick up your phone to start typing, Rachel continued.

“I mean, I don’t know if I’m supposed to be the spider, or the fly, but…”

She trailed off for a moment, getting lost in thought. She looked up at you when she had found the proper words, her eyes filled with a steely determination.

“Look, somehow, I saved Dawn from a coma.” She firmly reminded you. “She didn’t give me an open invitation to go poking around inside her brain, but she needed me. And I needed her. I know having the ability to see inside people’s minds can be weird. But you shouldn’t just go around pretending you can’t do it because you’re afraid you’ll hurt people’s feelings, or whatever. You could save their lives.”

You knew the information you had obtained wasn’t exactly life saving, but she had a point. An excellent one. Maybe the reason your powers were acting up like this was because Gar was reaching out to you. Maybe it was because he had felt the same way about you for a long time now and he didn’t have the guts to tell you either. So unconsciously, he was reaching out, trying to show you his feelings so he wouldn’t have to risk getting hurt.

‘Thank you. That actually really helps.’ You sent the message and gave her a smile, hopping off the bed and leaving the room once again.

…

You had some time to kill before going to talk to Gar.

You really wanted to talk to him this time - truly wanted to conquer everything you had been holding back over these past few days. So you were hoping that everyone else would be in bed asleep so they couldn’t interrupt the two of you.

You took up some of the time with a nice, long shower. Which was partially interrupted by Jason banging on the bathroom door, complaining about how long you were taking - once again. And you took your time getting ready afterwards.

You did your hair neatly and smoothed nice smelling lotion all over your skin. Of course, the thought did occur to you that the ‘conversation’ could lead to you and Gar having sex. That’s what had been so prominently on his mind for the past few weeks. That thought likely did influence your decision to put on a pair of skimpy, cute lace underwear and forego wearing a bra underneath your pajamas. A thin matchy cotton tank top and shorts set.

Your stomach was ripe with bubbles, absolutely full of air and anxiety as you sat on your bed, waiting for more time to pass. There was a book in your hand that you barely knew the name or contents of as you tried to kill more time. Your eyes flicked over to the clock. It was almost one in the morning. Surely you had waited long enough.

You didn’t bother with socks or slippers, your cold feet eager and quiet on the floor as you sneaked your way to Gar’s room. You were surprised to find empty, his wide open door revealing a messy, unmade bed without him in it. You hovered in the doorway for a moment, almost losing your courage and going back to bed.

But then your eyes landed on his nightstand.

There was a wide picture frame holding the picture of him and his parents. And tucked into one of the outer creases of the frame’s wood was something else - two photobooth pictures of the two of you. The pictures were from the first time he had snuck you out of the house to take you to the arcade at the roller rink. You had taken the other two pictures off the set of four, and always kept them in whatever journal you were currently working on.

Seeing the memento kept so close to him, so dear - it filled you with a fresh wave of confidence and desire. You turned around, determined to find him. Luckily, there weren’t that many places to check.

The kitchen and living space were empty. The bathroom was empty and the doors to the security room were shut - meaning Dick was likely in there, researching something, occupied. The only other place to check was the training room.

Gar was in there, putting himself through another rigorous training routine. Clearly he couldn’t sleep with the fight the two of you had still weighing on his mind. And he was quite a sight to behold.

He was shirtless, wearing nothing but a pair of black boxing gloves and black sweatpants that hung dangerously low on his hips. He was pounding away at the heavy punching bag, clearly trying to take out some of the frustrations that you had caused to run ramped inside of him. He was aglow with sweat, the tips of his green hair hanging down in his eyes, sticking to his forehead. His tight abs were slick and shiny in the light in a way that made you want to lick your lips.

His attire easily revealed the delicious cut V of his hips and even a slight bit of pubic hair where he hadn’t properly tied up his sweatpants, and they were beginning to slip slightly due to his activity. You could see a rather impressive bulge, signifying that he was definitely not wearing any underwear. It swung around freely as he worked, punching hard at the weight bag. You had to force yourself not to become distracted by the movement of that mighty snake inside his pants - especially now that you knew what it felt like against you when it was throbbing and hard.

He either hadn’t noticed your presence yet or didn’t care to interrupt his workout to acknowledge you.

“If you came to train, don’t let me bother you.”

Gar huffed quietly when he finally paused his movements for a moment. He sounded so entirely wounded, and the words caused pain to radiate through your chest. He leaned down to pick up his water bottle between the two clunky foam gloves without taking them off. He took a large gulp from it while he not-so-subtly eyed you through his peripheral vision, clearly waiting for your reaction.

“Apparently that’s all I am to you lately.”

He added on after he swallowed the water, deadly quiet. His words were barely louder than the metal creaking as the punching bag continued to swing from the residual momentum. But you heard him absolutely clear.

The sentiment weighed on your heart like a pound of bricks.

You knew there were no words to explain it to him. You knew he would still be angered at you for using your powers on him without permission, even if it was by mistake. You couldn’t explain how it had been a mistake, how it had only been with him. You still didn’t know exactly why or how it had happened.

After he gulped down a healthy dose of water, he tossed the bottle aside and rose to his full height. For the first time all day, he finally cast his attention over toward you. His face was set with one of the most sullen expressions you had ever seen. You hadn’t seen him this upset since he had attacked that man back at the asylum. Every bit a kicked puppy, as you looked at him, you tried to find the right words, but came up empty. You almost turned to walk away, almost burned dry of the courage you needed to face this.

But with Rachel’s words still ringing in your ears, you looked into his glassy eyes, and for the first time in a long time - you pushed into the quiet realm of his mind purposefully. You needed to dig to find something that would help you. Something that could remind you of how perfect you were with Gar.

You were surrounded once again by the thick, plush world of his own imagination.

Even if it wasn’t that different from the world you lived in.

The two of you were in the training room, with him wearing a blindfold as you practiced the unorthodox drill that was assigned to you. You got in a few good hits with the practice sword in your hands, and ultimately tackled him to the ground.

The two of you ended up in a position that wasn’t too different from the reality of the day before. Though it was playful and light, rather than hypersexual and startled.

You pinned him down with your thighs on either side of his waist, your hips sitting dangerously above his. Your body weight was balanced partially on your knees and partially on him. You held your wooden sword to his throat, poised in a threat you would never carry out against him.

He swallowed hard, his throat muscles jerking underneath the wood. You knew it was more because of the rising heat your compromising position was causing him and not because he was actually afraid of you. Or perhaps him being just a tiny bit afraid of you turned him on that little bit more.

You let out a laugh as you tossed the sword away, leaning in to take off his blindfold and give him a kiss on the cheek.

“What was that for?” He asked, regarding the unique new affection you had never really shown him before.

‘Kiss it better.’ You signed, before leaving in and leaving a deeper, more heated kiss fully on his mouth.

You forced yourself out of the thick, hazy daydream then.

This was the answer. No words would be able to fix this - you needed to kiss it better.

‘Kiss it better.’

You repeated this to yourself in the real world, confirming it as the truth.

Gar read the signs you performed and - out of context - it draped him in hopeful confusion.

He continued to stare you down with that delicately confused look enveloping his features as you marched across the room toward him, your steps over the cushioned mats of the floor filled with pure determination.

He wondered if he had read your signing wrong, or if you were really planning to kiss him. Part of him thought you were going to hit him, or finally flip out on him for whatever perceived crime he had committed. And when you did it - he could hardly believe that it was truly, finally happening. That it wasn’t some dream.

You reached up and grabbed him by both sides of his sweat damped head. And after years of waiting - you pulled him into your lips.

Without hesitation, going on the pure fire in your belly, you kissed him.

You channeled every ounce of raw need that had built up since the first time he had sucked you into a daydream where he so ferociously kissed you. His shock was evident at first. His whole body went stiff under your touch, which almost caused you to pull away. But a small moan rang out from the back of his throat - something that made you instantly dizzy with need. It made your lips seek out his with even more force, making your grip on his head clamp down as if to not let him escape.

He began to kiss you back with just as much ferocity as he had in his dreams - echoing out another moan as he truly appreciated the taste of your lips.

You felt him move but you didn’t open your eyes to look. You heard the tearing of velcro as you gnashed your teeth across his top lip and then latched onto the bottom one. Behind your back, he was taking off the boxing gloves, throwing them somewhere on the floor with a careless, quiet thump. Then his arms were around you, snaking around your waist. His flat palms went up the back of your shirt like impossibly hot magnets and pulled your body to his. He closed the small gap you had left for fear of being rejected - he welcomed you into his world with the utmost sincerity.

Your shirt stuck to him because of the sweat he had worked up, and you wanted it off immediately. You wanted all your clothes off. You wanted to feel the naked rawness of the bulge you could feel swelling against your hip. But for now, you were too distracted by the other sensations he drowned you in to even consider pulling away to strip down.

You were too caught up in the wicked work his tongue was doing as it snaked past your lips. You were obsessed with the loving way his hands held you. You lavished in the heat of his body as it radiated out against you like a wildfire. One of his hands was sprawled out in the middle of your back underneath your shirt. The other cupping the back of your head like you were the most beautiful, delicate doll he had ever had the pleasure of holding in his life.

Eventually, both of you were forced to pull away from the kiss - succumbing to that formidable human breath.

“Is this real?”

Gar said quietly, seemingly almost more to himself as he pulled away from your lips.

You opened your eyes, running a hand down to gently cup his cheek. He felt your gaze on him and opened his eyes. For the first time in days, he stared into your eyes so intimately and the dream became real.

“Are you forreal right now?”

These words were a bit louder.

Not loud enough to break the sacred bubble of hot mingled breaths, spit, and sweat you had created. He wouldn’t dare do anything to shatter this if it was just another sleepy fantasy. But even if it was a fantasy, he still wanted to ask for your consent. That much you realized.

Hesitantly, you tore your hands away from his glistening, flushed skin to formulate your reply.

‘I want you.’ You told him simply.

Without another moment of hesitance, he used the strong hold of his arms around your torso to take you to the ground.

You wrapped your legs around him upon instinct. Your arms came up to clasp around the back of his neck as your ankles fumbled somewhere on his back. The action unintentionally drew your hot centers closer together.

Gar bringing you down elicited a surprised squeak from you, which staved off into light laughter as your back met the mats. The laughter was easily echoed by him, deep and hardy. The sound turned into a playful, pleasurable growl into your neck as he ran his teeth along the skin there, nipping, marking his territory. You didn’t think his growling would ever be so sexy to you - but fuck, the noise ran a shock up your spine. It made your pussy clench around nothing and sent a wave of wetness into your underwear.

This was going to be fun.

“You have no fucking idea how long I’ve wanted this.”

Gar grunted into your neck, his voice already deepened by the cloud of his lust. His tongue licked a hot path down your skin into your cleavage. His hands ran down your sides to grip your hips through your shorts, his touch feeling blazen through the material.

“Wanted you.” He groaned, sounding so lust-drunk already. “You’re so fucking perfect.”

You had some idea.

But just hearing him say it, feeling the words vibrate against your skin made you moan for him. It made your fingers dig into the flesh of his shoulder blades. You were desperate for some kind of anchor on the plane of reality to assure yourself that you weren’t lost in the depth of another beautiful dream.

You were vaguely aware of the fact that there was probably a camera somewhere in the room. Maybe multiple cameras seeing what Dick’s personality was like. Hell, Batman was the one who had designed and built the place and Dick was only teaching you guys what he had been taught. He probably used the footage of you guys training to review your weaknesses so he could make you better - build better soldiers.

But all those thoughts melted out of your mind the moment that Gar lifted up your shirt. He continued the wet trail with his tongue down the middle of your stomach, stopping once and a while to make sloppy kisses against your skin. You knew exactly what his intentions were when his hands curled into the waistband of your shorts and underwear all at once.

Your legs fell limp as he started to pull them off.

A fresh wave of heat surged through you, making you absolutely drunk as he tossed your clothes behind him. He poised himself between your bent knees, kissing up your thigh with a tight hold on it, holding himself up with the other hand.

“You smell so fucking good.” He growled out, low, heavy under his breath. You moaned out, only getting drunker with his words. “Fuck, I can’t wait to taste you.”

You didn’t have a moment to sign to him, to give him some kind of encouragement or permission before he was diving in. He got low on his knees, wrapping both his hands possessively around your thighs. He leaned some of his weight on his elbows and from what you could see - canted his hips toward the mats, fruitlessly humping against the softness, seeking some kind of relief.

He used his hands to spread your legs - not that it was much of an effort. Your legs practically fell open at his touch. You whimpered hard in the back of your throat as you felt his breath fanning out over your wet pussy. A heavy moan swelled on your tongue when he licked a broad stripe across you from your hole to your throbbing clit.

“Shit, you taste so fucking good.”

He hoisted your legs over his shoulders so your feet rested comfortably on his back, laying so he was more flat on his stomach, clearly getting comfortable. He laid a few tender kisses on the inside of your thigh. Then he looked up at you with dark, ferocious eyes.

“Just, ah… smack me on the head if you want me to stop, okay?” Gar told you.

Clearly, he was saying this for your safety - putting in a failsafe in case you changed your mind or became overwhelmed. But it came off as a sharp, pleasant warning of what was to come.

Your pussy throbbed and you only ached for him to hurry up, biting your lip as you looked down at him. You nodded briskly, communicating that you understood his words. You had a feeling you most certainly wouldn’t want him to stop.

Gar’s fingers dug into the tenderness of your thighs as he ducked his head down, latching onto your swollen, needy flesh. He soon brought a whole new definition to the words ‘eating pussy’. Like with everything he did in life, he did with the utmost enthusiasm and passion. He lapped at you, put his beautiful pink lips around you and sucked. He kissed your pussy just as passionately and wholly as he had your mouth.

He shoved his tongue between your folds and dragged it in long, languid strokes. Clearly he was eager to lap up every last bit of your essence that he could - eager to devour you. He moaned into your pussy, moaned just as loudly as if he were the one being pleasured. It made the vibrations of his tongue on your clit even more deadly. Your hands were on his hair in a minute, both of them grabbing up as much of the gorgeous green as you could and holding tight. The action pulled a rumble from deep in his chest as he was satisfied by the pleasant pain of you tugging at his roots.

“You’re so fucking good.”

He moaned into you, and you echoed back a high pitched noise that you hardly recognized as your own.

“Everything about you is perfect. Every inch of you is perfect.”

His grip around your thighs became even more possessive, his fingers digging into you hard enough to leave marks. Your lust clouded brain couldn’t clock the pain. You could only enjoy the view of his gorgeous hands gripping your skin. He labored over your clit, determined to make you cum. He flicked his tongue hard and fast over your clit as his hot breath fanned over you in quick, lustful pants. The orgasm washed over you so suddenly, a rubber band snapped from his actions. The tension had been built up over weeks of him living inside your mind, torturing you through lustful dreams.

Your back arched, every muscle in your body pulled tight. Your thighs quivered and spasmed around his head as he continued to grip them hard. Your mouth became a mess of foreign noises that sounded daft and dumb to you but were absolute music to Gar’s ears.

He chased you hard the whole way through it, shoving his tongue deep inside your throbbing cunt so he wouldn’t miss a single drop of your juices as they flowed out of you. You thought perhaps he might come up for air when your orgasm subsided. The aftershocks were still shaking your thighs, one of your hands falling to lull by your side, the other petting fondly through Gar’s now even messier hair. But it seemed you were wrong. He was just getting started.

He growled with a feral hunger, the noise making your hips jolt, unintentionally canting toward his face as a whimper fluttered from your lips. He lapped at you in a drunken, lazy way for a few moments before he went back to eating your pussy with a renewed kind of starvation.

Nipping at your swollen pussy lips in a way that made your entire body jolt, forcing his tongue inside you and fucking you with it while his nose bumped at your thrumming clit. Your second orgasm built up so quickly on top of the first. Your fingers curled in his hair as an unspoken signal to it. The feeling of your nails digging into his scalp only driving him to makeout with your cunt with an even deeper desire.

He soaked up your practically pornographic moans with reverence. The wear and tear on your extremely damaged vocal cords began to hurt your throat, but the noises were absolutely unstoppable as they poured from your lips. His talented tongue was forcefully driving the moans and whimpers from you. He loved the feeling of your fingers ripping at his hair, leaving a pleasant sting across his scalp. He didn’t let up at all as your second orgasm plowed through you.

He wasn’t satisfied even as your voice was echoing the wrecked, harsh moans of a third.

He had you panting, your lungs struggling for air. Your muscles twitching with the excess of adrenaline and electricity. You whimpered pathetically as he tongued over your intensely sensitive clit again. Deciding it was time to give in, you reached over and tapped him gently on the top of the head.

He looked up at you with those beautiful, wide brown eyes. This time not a lick of innocence or confusion anywhere to be seen - his irises completely overtaken with a deep, primal lust.

You crooked your finger at him, motioning for him to come back towards your face. He kissed the inside of your thigh a few more times. He unintentionally smeared your sticky wetness, which had gathered on his lips in a heady, thick coating, across your skin.

“I love your pussy so fucking much.” He murmured into your skin.

Hearing him spout such filthy words without shame sent another wave of heat rolling through your belly. You had no idea how you were still so needy after cumming so many times, but Gar had easily done that to you.

You reached over and gently tugged on his hair again, bringing his attention back to you. You suddenly became very aware of the fact that you knew exactly what you wanted, but you didn’t know how to ask for it. Surely, there had to be a sign in ASL for intercourse - but you just didn’t know what it was. You had never felt the need to look it up before now. You decided to improv, knowing that Gar would get the meaning either way. He always understood when it came to you.

You raised your hands, making a partially closed fist with one hand and sticking your finger into it. You knew that it was probably a rather juvenile motion. To make your point perfectly clear, you mouthed the words ‘fuck me’ in an exaggerated way, hoping it would be easy enough for him to pick up on.

“You want me to fuck you?”

He gently shucked your legs off his shoulders, sitting up on his knees. He wiped your essence off his mouth with the palm of his hand, a delighted, surprised expression falling over his features.

You nodded swiftly, enthusiasm spreading across your face, biting your lip as you could barely contain a giddy smile.

“I mean, I don’t have a condom or anything… should I go find one?”

He moved slightly as if to get up and leave you, but you were quick to trap him, hooking your knees around his thighs and squeezing tight. This touch was a good enough signal to bring his attention back to you.

‘Don’t worry about it.’ You signed to him, firm and final.

He clearly wanted to question you, but there was something heavy dancing in your eyes, and he didn’t want to ruin the moment by pushing it.

(You were infertile. Just another thing your illness had taken from you. If it meant this moment with Gar would be a bit more worry-free, then you’d take it. If it meant he would break up with you down the road because he wanted kids that you couldn’t have… then you’d just enjoy the time with him that you were given.)

“Okay.” He breathed quietly.

Your attention shifted dramatically when his hand moved to adjust his cock in his pants, which was straining harshly through the fabric. It was a long, thick outline like a shadow beaming out from the black fabric, with a damp spot at the tip. Fuck.

Eating you out had turned him on so much that he was leaking precum into his pants, quite a lot of it. You latched onto your bottom lip at the sight of it. You couldn’t help but to outright stare now that you were allowed to look - lavishing your eyes over the thick, magnetic outline of his beautiful cock. His hand gripped it once more, adjusting himself, trying to make his throbbing cock more comfortable where it strained against the fabric. It made the sight even hotter somehow, and your eyes jumped up to his to see the almost shy look on his face. Even after what he’d done, he was shy about you staring at his bulge.

‘Show me.’

You egged him on, trying to be encouraging. You wanted to play up the obvious desire that you knew was prominent on your face by pouting your lips and batting your eyelashes for him. He raised his hand to the edge of his pants, but his muscles strained, hesitant still.

As a show of good faith, you sat up slightly, peeling off your tank top, which was now stuck to you with sweat. Your skin appreciated the cool air of the room, and your ego preened at the way Gar’s eyes devoured the newly revealed skin.

He let out a harsh breath before he stood up on the spot and took his pants down, letting them fall to his ankles and kicking them away.

“I thought you might laugh at me.” He said quietly, insecurity racking his voice. “Because… ya know… the carpet matches the drapes.”

Laughing was the last thing you were thinking about doing.

As you laid there, propped up by your elbows, staring at him, your mind could only focus on how entirely fantastic he looked. His body was so perfect, his muscles built, building up more each day with the training. His whole body covered in perfect, smooth skin, surrounding a gorgeous, filthy prize that you had only dreamed about being this amazing in real life.

His cock sprang out from a nest of green pubic hair - which yes, ‘the carpet does match the drapes’. But you found that to be nothing to laugh at. There was absolutely nothing laughable about the gorgeous, nine inch monster that stood proudly in front of you - smooth skin covering hardened, gorgeous flesh just like the rest of him. With a drooling, bright pink tip just ready for your lips to be wrapped around it.

‘Why would I ever laugh at such a beautiful prize?’ You told him, assuring him that you held nothing but admiration and lust for his body.

A light dusting of pink came over his cheeks, absolute flattery from your words. He dropped down to his knees once again. His cock bobbed so deliciously as he moved, and you knew that would be so whipped by the ability to have it. When Gar realized the power he could hold over you with sex - you would be done for.

“Jason thought it was pretty funny.” He shrugged, his voice gruff with the memory of it.

‘Jason is a clown.’ You assured him.

The conversation was cast aside when he gripped your ankles, playfully tugging you across the mats toward him - something that caused more giggles to erupt from your throat.

Then, he was hovering over you on his hands and knees once again. With one hand beside your head, the other came over to grasp your chin with two fingers. It was so light and careful compared to his previous touches. He peered down into your eyes, making your stomach seize up with the sheer amount of love and affection he stared you down with.

If you didn’t feel the same way for him, you might have backed down from the towering might of his feelings. You might have been tempted to run from something so divinely grand and beautiful. But no - you wanted to be his. You wanted to make him yours.

‘Take me.’ You mouthed.

Your hands were numb and useless at your sides. Your body was stilled by the cosmic depths of his affection, hoping your silent lips alone would be enough.

Gar leaned down and swept your mouth into a kiss. His thumb on your chin rubbed sweet circles on your skin as his lips smoothed into yours. Your tongue reached out to eagerly dive into the cavern of his mouth. Soon his touch was gone from your face as your hands woke up to find him, to reach out for the perfection of his body.

You eagerly sought out to touch his arms, his back, his ass, anything you could reach. He used his hand to hoist your knee gently over his thigh, opening you up to him. Then he poised his cock perfectly at your hot, leaking entrance.

“You sure about this?” He breathed across your cheek, pulling away from the kiss to ensure your consent one last time.

You nodded with the most frantic posture you could muster, impatient breaths spilling from your nostrils and pouring across his clammy skin.

Satisfied with this, he rolled his hips forward. Finally, after weeks - no, years - of waiting in quiet agitation for him, you became complete.

Even with his massive size, his cock slid easily inside you.

Your pussy was readied by the many orgasms he gave you, your muscles relaxed and naturally slicked up for him. He fit perfectly like he belonged there, your hot inner walls pulling him in. Your hot cunt clung to his cock in a way that made him groan deeply into your neck. The feeling made his buttocks tense as he pulled together his last ounces of self control to not lose it - to not pound into you like a careless sex doll. You were perfect, and you deserved to be treated perfectly.

“Fuck, you feel so good around my cock.”

He groaned, leaning down on his elbows. He trapped you completely in his warmth, pressing his body firmly into yours from chest to chest to where he was smothered deep inside you.

“You’re so fucking perfect. Fuck, Y/N.”

You dug your nails into the muscles of his back - hearing your name on his lips with such a gravelly desire making your pussy squeeze around him. After a few restrained moments, he finally pulled his hips back and began to move. It started off as a slow, deliberate grind, a slow drag of his hips into yours, but it quickly became unhinged. Not that you minded one bit. You wanted to tempt that animal inside him - you wanted to see his rougher side.

The sloppy sound of skin slapping against skin echoed through the room as he hammered his hips into yours. The sounds almost completely drowning out the quiet wave of your pathetic whimpers and his possessive growls. He tried to trap the sounds in the skin of your neck, while gnawing mindlessly at your skin, sure to leave some kind of mark on you.

He was impossibly heavy and hot inside you, hitting all the best spots. His cock drove more electricity into your nerve endings and absolutely milked you for everything you could give. His knees pinned open your thighs where they jolted and jumped, your body so overstimulated from your previous orgasms that they wanted to clamp shut on his hips to keep him from moving. Your unconscious wanted to pin him down and hold him there - wanted to hold him inside you so that you could feel so impossibly full forever.

And then, just as you felt another orgasm coming to form like a screeching fire in your belly, he dared to raise his head from your neck, dared to look into your eyes.

Before you knew it, you were tumbling once again through the thick curtain of reality and into his mind. You were pulled against your will into another one of his fantasies.

In the fantasy, you were on your back, still, completely naked. You were slicked with a sheen of sweat with his thick, pulsing cock deep inside you. But this was slightly different. The material under your back was most certainly a mattress - plush, more giving than the stiffness of the padded floor of the training room. It had an almost too soft layer of silk sheets covering it that your skin stuck to unpleasantly with the sweat.

Your hands were poised on Gar’s chest, your nails digging into the skin there, leaving light marks. One of the things that stood out most to you about this picture was not the fact that Gar was having a fantasy about fucking you, but the ring on your finger. Seeing as this was his mind, he was the one who had put it there. Quite clearly a wedding ring or an engagement ring. It was beautifully ornate, poised on the correct finger for marriage. It held a bright green stone in the middle - green like a certain someone special to you.

“Fuck, I love you so much.”

Dream Gar moaned as he pounded into you, his hips taking on a sloppy rhythm as his orgasm drew near.

“My beautiful wife. Mine. Finally fucking mine. You’ve always been mine, haven’t you?”

‘I’m yours.’

You found yourself mouthing the words without even realizing it, whipped out of the fantasy world so harshly once again. A very small part of your mind wondered if it had been a small slice of the future that you had seen or if it was simply a conjuring from Gar’s imagination.

You didn’t have the time to think or care, because your body went into overdrive. The Real Gar’s forehead was now resting on your tits. His hands created a tight grip on your hips as he pounded into you harder, harsher, deep grunts spewing from his lips each time his cock settled back inside you.

“Please cum for me, Y/N.” His words came out as a whining beg, something so wonderfully small from the man splitting you open on his cock.

He kissed between your breasts, his thumb coming to rub harsh circles on your clit, sending jolts right through you.

“Cum on my cock. Please.”

With the vision still hot on your mind and his words searing through you, the orgasm tore you up like a rabid animal. It was like nothing else you had ever felt in your life - like your entire body was on fire, being entirely consumed by Gar, by his touch, by his love for you. Finally being owned by him, finally having the one thing you wanted, needed most. Finally having him, full and whole.

You screamed so loudly it hurt your throat, something you knew you’d be feeling for days afterward. Your whole body shook around him while your eyes screwed shut, your head tilting backwards as the pleasure was exorcized from you.

You felt a hot dampness under your fingertips that you recognized as blood. In the back of your mind, you realized that you had gripped him hard enough for your nails to cut him - but he didn’t seem to care. In fact, it only spurred him on more, if the deep, ferocious grunts pouring from his lips were any indication. He was absolutely wild as he chased his own orgasm, breath fanning out in hot grunts against your breasts as he bucked wildly into your spent, tired hips, making your muscles twitch with bitter overstimulation.

“Fuck! Y/N!” He cried out as he came, finally spilling his thick, hot cum inside you.

You let out a small moan at the feeling. It became even hotter when you felt his cum pooling around the base of his cock, where you were connected, and leaking down between your cheeks. He lingered inside you for a few moments, petting his hands up and down your sides while your hands laid numbly on his back. He pecked small, delicate kisses across your clavicle that were almost an irony to the whole interaction. It made you smile.

You were quickly falling tired from the massive aerobic exercise and post-orgasm haze, disappointed by the fact that you had to get up and make your way back to bed. You hoped Gar would let you sleep in his. It came as a bitter shock when he pulled out of you, leaving you empty and cold as he moved away from you so suddenly. When you blinked, he was standing, bending over with his back to you as he picked up his pants and righted the legs so he could put them back on.

What he did next came as even worse of a shock to you.

“I - uh… I understand if you don’t want this to affect our friendship.” He said, just loud enough for you to hear him. His tone was flat, completely void of emotion.

“I totally get being horny and just… needing someone. We’ve been locked up here for weeks, and like. Like you said, Jason’s a clown.” He let out a laugh, but it was hollow and tired. He clearly didn’t even think his own words were funny.

The words were so strange in those moments they took far too long to process through your sex-hazy brain.

Was he really insinuating that you might go to Jason for sex? Was he trying to… let you down easy? Was he saying that he only wanted to be friends? Friends with benefits?

Was he seriously saying that he didn’t love you?

Your head was spinning with questions as you propped yourself up on your elbows, your whole body stiff as those beautiful, orgasmic chemicals faded away. It left you tired, shocked, and… feeling used. Your eyes scanned over Gar’s back as he tied up the drawstring of his pants. You focused on the dark red, deep, partially bleeding marks you had left. You had marked him, whether he liked it or not. You had some claim to him. You should.

“I’m gonna stay for a while and finish my workout.” He told you quietly. “Do you need help getting back to bed?”

When he came over and offered you a hand, you brushed it away. For the first time ever, you felt cold and unaccepting of his touch. You felt angry with him. How dare he invite you into his mind, show you how much he cared about you - how dare he fuck you with so much love and passion and then try to brush it all off as if it were nothing?

‘I’m fine.’ You told him, hoping your coldness could come across in tired, limp handed signing.

You forced yourself up on quivering knees and then onto your feet. You gathered your clothes where they had been carelessly tossed and shoved them back onto your used, dirty body. You would have preferred a shower first, but you preferred the precaution of drapery in case you did run into anyone on your way to the bathroom.

“Oh. Okay. Cool.”

These were Gar’s last words to you before you stormed out of the training room, going to the bathroom to ruminate on the whole experience by boiling yourself in hot, steaming water.

…

You thought about it for a long time while you were in the shower.

Just stood there, under the hot spray and let your mind concentrate on the things Gar had said. He had fucked the living daylights out of you, ate your pussy like it was his fucking job. He was apparently having daydreams about doing so while calling you his fucking wife, and then once it was all said and done - he backed down from it. He told you that he ‘understood’ if you only wanted to be friends.

He was afraid.

It was like everything else in his life. He could transform into a fucking tiger, but he was afraid to bite people. He didn’t want to use the fantastic power that had been given to him. For years, he hid away with Doctor Caulder, a man who emotionally abused him and manipulated him. He had been too afraid to stand up for himself, too afraid to leave the house and chase the things he really wanted.

And with you. He was clearly terrified you were going to reject him. He wanted a life with you, he wanted to worship you. He wanted you and your heart, he wanted your everything. But he was too afraid to voice it. He was too afraid he’d look like an idiot if you didn’t feel the same way.

That’s probably why he had unconsciously reached out to you, unconsciously broadcasted his fantasies to you whenever you were near. And you’d thought it was your stupid powers acting up.

Just like with kissing him to initiate that amazing sex - you were going to have to shake off your fear of rejection so that the two of you could be together already.

…

You woke up the next morning with a pounding migraine.

Even with the preventative medications Doctor Caulder had prescribed to you to help with your seizures and migraines, the tumor that still lived inside your brain did get to torture you occasionally. When you lifted your head from your pillow and saw the gray, gloomy sky looming over San Francisco, the raindrops racing down your window, it didn’t take you long to figure out the cause of your pain. You groaned, falling face first back into your pillow, not wanting to get up.

The ever present pain from coming from your head was topped off by soreness that had spread through your whole body - undeniable evidence that what happened between you and Gar last night wasn’t just another dream. Dreams don’t have consequences. Especially considering that your pussy was aching hard, still sore from having his impressive length splitting you open. On top of it all, your throat was stinging with an almost flu-like ache from having screamed so much through your surgery damaged vocal chords.

You really hoped Dick would let you have one day off from training. You probably could have gotten through it with just your body being sore. But the migraine was already ravaging you, already turning your stomach sour with systematic nausea.

You heard a knock on your door and sighed quietly.

You had just barely hoisted yourself into a sitting position by the time the person entered. Squinting through your tired eyes, you were able to makeout a flash of green and immediately knew that it was Gar.

“Hey, you don’t look so good. You feelin’ alright?” He knew the look that always settled upon your face when you were overtaken with such intense pain. He hardly needed to ask. “Where’s the bottle?”

You motioned toward the drawer that held the item he spoke of - your hot water bottle, which you used to help ease the bitter pain of a migraine. He opened and closed a few drawers before he found it. Your eyes gently closed against the harsh light pouring in from the hallway, too sensitive to the light to actually look at him.

“It’s okay, lay down.” He told you, his voice a comforting lull past the aching thrum in your forehead. He patted your thigh gently through your blanket, and you eased back onto the bed, throwing a forearm over your eyes to block the light. “I got it.”

He went to the kitchen and filled the rubber bladder with boiling water, returning quickly with it and a glass of water. You took the now very hot water bottle. You gave him a small moan of gratitude as you placed it down on your pillow and pressed your forehead into it.

In a practiced routine that only spoke to how much he loved you, he closed the bedroom door, blocking out the harsh light of the hallway. And then he walked around the bed to close the curtains, blocking out any potential light from the outside. He placed the glass of water down on your nightstand with a harsh clink that only radiated through your skull so painfully because of the migraine. Then you heard him open the nightstand drawer, digging around for your medication.

You trusted that he knew which ones you needed right now. You trusted that he didn’t need your advice on how to take care of you. It was something he knew well after so long.

You felt his fingers brushing your open palm, then felt the round tablets of your medication left there as he pulled away.

“Sit up and take these.” He said quietly, voice barely above a whisper, as if he was afraid to hurt you with a single decibel.

He used a gentle grip on your forearm to hoist you into a sitting position, and you swallowed the medication dutifully with the water he’d brought.

“I’ll tell Dick you need to sit out of training today.” He explained quietly. “You need anything else?”

‘One thing.’ You signed to him, your hands weak and tired.

Though your pain was disruptive, and you were glad Gar was not acting any different after what had happened last night, you couldn’t wait any longer before doing this.

Before he could question what that thing was, you leaned in. Your lips easily found his in the darkness and you planted a smooth, gentle kiss on his mouth.

‘Don’t wanna just be friends.’ You signed, opening your tired, painful eyes to see his reaction to your words. ‘I love you. I have loved you for a long time now.’

A broad smile came across his face, his expression of pure joy practically glowing in the darkness.

“Yeah. Awesome. That sounds amazing. I love you too.” His voice was slightly louder now, his joy overriding his caution for your hypersensitive, pained ears.

He felt absolutely giddy - this was what he had been waiting for, dreaming of for so long. He wanted to climb in bed with you and lay by your side for the rest of the day. But he knew that he needed to attend to other things, and more importantly - you needed your rest.

“Get some rest now, okay?”

He tucked you into bed, made sure the covers were up over your body, full and warm with the hot water bottle under your head before he left the room once again.

It wasn’t long before you heard voices coming from down the hall.

“Where’s Y/N? We’re doing balance drills in ten minutes.” Dick’s gruff voice echoed down the hall, very obviously directed at Gar, who he’d sent to wake you up.

“She needs the day off. She’s got a wicked migraine and she needs rest when it gets like this,” Gar told him simply, hoping Dick would respect him at his word.

“We don’t get days off, Gar.” Dick pressed. “All of us have to train through pain, or injury. Do you really think some psychotic asshole is gonna care if you have a little headache while they’re trying to kill you? Do you think they’re just gonna come back another day? Do you think they’re gonna stop shooting at you if you have to stop and bandage your boo boo?”

His words cut through you, causing a sallow pain to rise up in your chest. It was something you’d been hearing since your childhood - since your treatments and hospital stays had caused you to miss too many days off and your teachers quickly stopped taking pity on you. You had always been told to just work through your pain, that the world won’t stop for you. You considered getting up and just going to training. You wanted to tough it out just to show Dick that you could, that you could puke into a garbage can and keep going, that you could boot and rally.

You heard footsteps coming down the hall, and in your pain heightened sensitivity, you heard the metal of the doorknob shift as someone put their hand around it. The sound of Dick coming to get you out of bed anyway.

He didn’t get the chance, though.

“Leave it, Grayson.” Gar’s voice growled - a harsh, sharp sound that you had rarely ever heard from him before. “You don’t understand what she’s going through, and I won’t have you pushing her until she pukes on the floor just to satisfy your ego. She already trains harder than you ask and you know she could probably kick your ass,”

You heard a harsh sigh, a deep breath through nostrils - Dick’s surrender. His footsteps disappeared down the hall, and Gar’s followed shortly after.

Your heart bloomed with affection, awed by the blanket of protection he had put around you.

You really were his. You always have been.

...

When Gar was getting dressed after his shower later that day - he came across a small box in his underwear drawer. It was the ring that Rita had given him before he left Caulder House, a very expensive looking vintage piece from her days on set. Gar tried to insist that he couldn’t take something so nice, so sentimental from her. But she had closed it tight into his palm with the promise that it would be yours someday - that he would use the polished emerald ring to propose to you.

Of course, she saw that big, beautiful, dangerous thing brewing between the two of you from a mile away. Gar considered marching down the hall and giving it to you right then there. But he tucked the box back into his drawer. In honor of Rita’s vision - he would make it old Hollywood, romantic.

He had plenty of time.

THE END.

...

Final note: yes, I used to be @/pinkchubbiebunnie.That is still my username on AO3, and this is my new blog. This is one of my old fics, so please don’t accuse me of stealing it if you see this. I have added some new scenes and elements to it (hence, why I have split it up into two parts) so if you recognize me by this fic and if you’ve read it before, I hope you enjoy re-reading it in its newly improved form. Feel free to follow me if you’re interested in my fanfiction and thoughtful discussions of the media that I enjoy.

#sundrop speaks #interactions #star squared #my lovely moots #fanfiction #titans fanfiction #memes

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justonemorechapternicercy · 3 years ago

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hi babe 🤍 back on my sunny ocean bullshit 🤭 … apercy or michaercy for the rarepair meme? 👉👈

My love, anything for you 💙

For Apercy, we couldn't hope for better start than the undercurrent attraction between both of them. Percy notices the handsome god - even if he is annoyed by him -, and Apollo shows it time and time again how much of a simp he is for the pretty demigod.

I think the best moment for them to get together as a couple that could work for long term, is after Apollo turns into a god again. He is not a mortal anymore, he doesn't have to be afraid that he stays like that way forever, while he is not the same egoistic, uncaring god anymore either.

He is more empathetic, and compared with his great looks, Percy can't fight against his attraction anymore. The god likes to visit him, just chitchat, drive around a bit, invites him out to taste different food from different countries, accompanies him when he goes to visit his mom-

"Oh, shit. I'm dating with Apollo."

It's a funny realization, at least for his friends and family, who just laughs at him, because Apollo couldn't have been more obvious about it.

Percy freaks out, because it is a god, and it is APOLLO, whose dead lovers can literally fill up a garden, but he can't deny the happiness from himself, from Apollo.

And they live happily ever after, without any turning-into-a-plant end for Percy.

Michael is a tricky one, but it would happen during the Titan War. Because obviously, the battlefield is the best time and place for getting together.

Percy just saw Michael falling into his death, which, he just can't allow. He is the fucking son of the fucking sea god, he can't, he won't allow Michael to die in the WATER!

And Michael doesn't, because Percy saves him, and everything. He can't stay, obviously, only for a few moments just to make sure he will stay alive, then he does his thing. He can't help it, his mind keeps getting occupied with the son of Apollo, whatever he does. It's a surprise that he can stay alive and pay attention to the things happening around him, honestly.

After Luke dies, gods win, all the promises are made by those lying liers who are constantly lying, when Percy finally escapes from Olympus, the first place he visits is the infirmary.

When Michael sees him - who was tending the injured demigods instead of taking care of himself, obviously -, he immediately throws himself on Percy, half trying to suffocate him for making him worried, and half kissing him because fuck, they are both alive, and enough about this flirting with each other thing they had before.

Michael demands a proper relationship, and he gets one. Obviously.

#vi ❤️#percy jackson #apollo #michael yew #apercy #michael x percy #ask game #ship asks

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hillnerd · 4 years ago

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For the headcanon ask game - Romione + rain?

For the headcanon ask meme <-feel free to send a couple and a prompt- i'll either write a short blurb of headcanon or write a drabble my headcanon is that Hermione loves rainy days and Ron doesn't- she wins him over to them eventually:

RAIN

Hermione had always loved the rain. None of the other children in her class did. They'd moan and wail when they had to stay inside during playtime. As they all mourned the loss of their beloved tag, Hermione would squirm in delight.

While everyone else would suffer through checkers and building blocks, adventures and deserted islands waterfalled into the room with every drop of rain. Why deal with getting actual dirt under your nails, when you can imagine walking on beaches. Why deal with lines for the swingset and being elbowed off the climbing frame she could barely manage to stay on for more than a few seconds, when there were chapters of friends to spend her hour with.

-------------------------

Rainy days were absolutely, without a doubt, miserable! That's what they were. On a sunny day Ron’s brothers would let him come along and maybe even hang out a bit. He might just be target practice for an apple, but at least he was on a broom, and at least he was having something akin to a nice time with them.

Instead he was locked in, roped into chores, and no one would play him chess anymore. He'd just finished helping his mum mucking out some of the junk from under the sink when he felt his leg get crushed and he let out a string of curses.

“Get your legs out the way!” Fred hissed, giving him a light kick for good measure.

Utterly miserable.

-------------------------

Hermione wrapped her scarf tighter around her neck as a gust of rain-loaded wind made her umbrella quite pointless. The Quidditch Pitch was so misty she had no idea how the players were able to avoid colliding.

“Damn this weather is shit!”

A warm cloak was draped around her shoulder and she hurriedly leaned into Ron’s side.

“You shouldn’t curse.” She did her best to school her smile into a formidable frown of disapproval.

Ron laughed and shook his head. Droplets from his hair flicked onto the last dry bit of her face.

“Y’know, we’ve been friends for two years. You should probably get over my cursing. I’m not going to stop.”

“It’s impolite!”

“Worse things to be than impolite, aren’t there? I could be an arse like Malfoy.”

“And that’s the scale you’re grading yourself on? ‘Not as bad as Malfoy?’”

“Don’t be jealous of my lofty goals,” he said, putting his nose high in the air before squinting. “I hope Harry catches the Snitch soon. My bum’s going dead from the cold. Know anything that could warm it up?”

Hermione tucked her head behind her hair as heat radiated through her.

“There’s a hot-air-charm.”

“Oh yeah! Blow some hot air on me!”

“I don’t know it yet… I’ve only seen it.”

“Same.”

“And warming charms aren’t until fourth year.”

“Bit shit, that. It’s getting colder by the second out here. We should all know a good warming charm. Plus we live in a castle in Scotland! It’s bloody cold!”

“Ron!” she said, giving him a small elbow in the side.

“Sorry! I’ll try not to curse so much, I swea—”

“No! What’s that over there?”

A swathe of darkness rushed the field, undulating like a dark ink spill across the Quidditch field.

“Oh no…” Ron moaned. “Dementors!”

He gave another string of curses as they rushed towards the field.

Despite the cold, misery and terror encroaching, a bit of warmth kept the Dementors from fully affecting her as they had on the Hogwarts Express. It was Ron’s large hand holding hers all the way to the field.

She loved rainy days.

-------------------------

The wet squelch of his shoes echoing off stone hallways was the only sound left in the castle. Ron was alone, which was all for the better. He’d always loved Quidditch, but now it felt like a scimitar ready to come down and end him. At this point he’d welcome a good beheading— at least then he wouldn’t feel so bleeding miserable.

His sodden robes left tiny droplets, and he’d wrung out one giant puddle, in the halls. If Filch caught him, he’d probably give him a good dressing down, but Ron didn’t care. He deserved one.

How could Quidditch abilities have passed him by so thoroughly? He thought he’d been a good Keeper at home. He always got stuck in the position, but over time he grew to like it quite a lot. Not anymore.

His robes thwarted against the portrait whole as he drug himself through to an empty Common Room. Not wanting to face his dormmates he went for a seat by the fire, but found Hermione. She sat in one of the larger plush chairs, her little legs curled up under her in a way that would make his long limbs go numb in under a minute. All around her were parchment and books. She was working on a Charms assignment he knew was not due for another three weeks. She looked up from the work and gave a warm smile. Despite himself, he smiled back.

“It’s miserable enough with all the rain. Why compound it with Charms?” he asked.

“I wanted to wait for you. I don’t like the idea of you practicing in a storm like this. Especially by yourself! It’s not worth it.”

“Well I can’t quit,” he said, feeling mulish again and collapsing into the opposite chair with a great heave.

“I wasn’t suggesting you quit. Just maybe wait for nights where there isn’t a maelstrom?”

“Ah, but then there’d be loads of other people wanting to practice, and then they’d all see how I suck eggs.”

“I’ve seen you fly and you don’t ‘suck eggs,’” she said, finishing her sentence with a flourish of her quill.

“There’s a whole song about it.”

“That song…” she growled, casting a charm on her paper to dry the ink.. “Malfoy’s the one who sucks eggs! He’s a little monster and I’m a bit in shock the professors have done absolutely nothing to stop him.”

“Why would they?” he said with a shrug.

“Because it’s a monstrous display of bullying? Because it’s targeting a student and making the whole school absolutely toxic? It’s wrong? It’s harmful? Take your pick!”

Ron straightened in his seat as she pointed her wand at him. Suddenly he was hit with the most satisfying warming charm, followed by a water wicking spell.

“You’re good at Keeping! I’ve seen you do it every summer up against the twins, Ginny, and even Charlie. But you’re no good to anyone if you get struck by lightning, fall from your broom, or catch pneumonia from being out in this weather! And what are you smiling at?” she asked, brows furrowed enough to make that cute little line appear between them.

“You.”

“You should take what I’m saying seriously!”

“Fine, I won’t fly in this weather alone.”

“Well who will accompany you?”

He hesitated a moment then replied, “You, if you’ll come.”

“I can. As long as I’m ahead on my revising.”

“Then you can always come, as you’re always ahead,” he said putting his feet up on her arm rest.

“I also meant it about the Keeping. I think you’re good.”

“Yeah, well… Quidditch isn’t your strong suit.” She shoved his feet off the chair and he gave a chuckle. “But, I’ll try to keep that in mind.”

Despite wanting to be so ahead in her studies, Ron noticed how she ignored her parchment the rest of the evening for him. For a rainy evening, it was quite nice.

#romione #hermione granger #ron weasley #rain #my writing #harry potter #hp fan fiction #romione fic #drabble #fan fic

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sleepypocketsock · 4 years ago

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Omori fandom i have made a BIG BRAIN fic idea and everyone needs to look at it

OKOKOK so picture this:

~KARAOKE FIC~

- post game in Omori, relationships between the gang have gotten better and everyone has now forgiven Sunny and Basil by now (and they all go to therapy now, its essential)

- Kel has decided to drag the group along to a karaoke place in the city Sunny lives in

- yknow what? ill be nice and say that the Hooligans joined as well. There isnt enough content of them, its a damn shame

- Almost everyone decides to have a go at singing one song! Kel is,,,uh,,,,ok at it to put at it lightly, Aubrey is pretty good at singing! Kim ends up going heart eyes at that despite the fact they’ve been dating for months (theyre lesbians Dave you cant convince me otherwise) Basil has a soft voice when singing and everyone loves to see it, and everyone overall has a good time!!

- there are Kel and Aubrey bickering moments, there HAS to be

- then you have Sunny, who no one really expected him to sing which was fine by them! But woah! Sunny is going for it? and Kel ends up creating a betting pool to see how good Sunny’s singing skills are while Sunny is away to grab a drink, Hero’s hosting it with reluctance bc “we shouldnt do things like this but it’ll be interesting to see how this goes.

- Sunny is a SURPRISINGLY REALLY GOOD singer despite that fact you hardly hear him talk at all, it secretly came w the violin practices bc he genuinely wanted to (hc’s go brrrr)

- nobody knows this only mari did, add that to the Things Sunny Repressed

- So imagine the fucking sheer AWE AND SURPRISE that the gang gets when Sunny ends up BELTING IT OUT in the most beautiful voice they’ve ever fucking heard, what the fuck????

- He’s singing first love / late spring by Mitski and is KILLING IT don’t think too hard about the song choice just imagine that I thought that Sunny would listen to her music & NOT because the other song choices i had written weren’t that good to pick

- everyone is speechless. Kel and/or Basil are having a Gay Panic Attack™(havent decided yet but Sunny has two [2] hands), Aubrey has gained more respect for Sunny (’he sings? and has good taste? respect’), Hero is the equivalent to the Surprised Pikachu meme,and The Hooligans go :O during the entirety of the song

- then Sunny finishes, looks up with an embarrassed look on his face and quietly goes: “...how did i do? i haven’t practiced singing in awhile...” and everyone collectively goes “YOU CAN FUCKING SING??? HOLY SHIT THAT WAS AMAZING!!” in varying intensities

- Hero goes all Big Brother Mode and give Sunny a little head pat

- Aubrey looks at him dead in the eye and nods, Sunny nods back. they are Communicating. No one knows what.

- Kel being Kel hypes him up about his skills n shit

- Basil smiles and says his voice sounds like an angel (cue blushy blushy moments lmao)

- The fic ends with “man i cant believe i lost the bet! i was so sure that he would be bad at it..” and Sunny goes “YOU PLACED BETS?????? O-o”

- Basil won the bet

i would write this but i dont have an ao3 account and my writing skills are ok at best ;-; but if im ever in a ‘fuck it’ mood theres a MIGHT be a chance i will write/draw this shit out

tho ppl are free to make a fic outta this! i might reblog this again w more thoughts about it later

#omori spoilers #omori sunny #omori kel #omori aubrey #omori basil #omori hero #omori the hooligans #sunnflower #omori suntan #<- thats the ship name for kel n sunny i found in twitter #oooo ideas go brrrr #omori fic #omori

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just-call-me-the-intrusive-thot · 5 years ago

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Soulmate September - Day 10

Day 10 - You are born with a birthmark, similar to a tattoo, that is shared by your soulmate.

Pairing(s): Romantic Anaroceit, Romantic RemSleep, Ambiguous Poly Glasses Gays

TWs: Swearing, Remus being Remus, animal death metions briefly, implied sexual mention once I think?

–

Why was it so difficult to simply bring together two handsome, obnoxious soulmates?

How could grown men be this dense?!Virgil had been trying for MONTHS at this point to get these idiots to date, yet for some reason

Instead of wanting to date each other, they both seemed far more interested in someone else.

In him.

Why, why did this have to be his life? Tormented by such stupid, handsome men?

Okay, maybe he had a teeny crush on both of them but Virgil was getting ahead of himself.

Working at the local theatre was doing some real good for Virgil; being a techie meant he was mostly out of the spotlight - so no chance of any performance anxiety - and it meant he had to actually wake up and be a functional human being but was flexible enough that he could call in sick pretty easily if he needed a mental health day.

Thankfully, things had been going well until Virgil looked down from the catwalk to note that the two best actors in their troupe, Roman Prince and Janus D. Lyre, both bore each other’s soulmate markings. Both on the backs of their necks, all too easy to miss. Ever since, Virgil had been trying to subtly get them to realise they were soulmates. Of course, given the intimacy of the soulmate marks, it would be entirely outrageous for Virgil to simply tell them they were soulmates; social etiquette wasn’t his forte, but his anxiety really didn’t want the possible shunning he might receive if he broke that rule. Knowing that Janus and Roman were often together for rehearsals and were similarly self-obsessed, Virgil assumed getting them interested in each other would be a piece of cake.

And yet. Somehow. The man they were both interested in was Virgil himself.

Every time he tried to get the two talking, Virgil wound up being flirted with or found himself stuck between two arguing idiots. If anything, Virgil wondered if his interfering had made things worse. Now instead of kidding and being perfect and gorgeous together, they were absolutely straight up enemies. Janus did his best to interrupt - and one-up - Roman’s stellar attempts at flirting, and Roman often tried to out shine Janus by giving Virgil anything from his favourite chocolates to gothic black roses to new headphones.

Not that Virgil didn’t secretly love being the object of their mutual affection, if anything it gave him hope that perhaps whoever his soulmate was would dote on him just as much. But just like his non-existent soulmate mark, this just wasn’t meant to be. He still wasn’t sure why he didn’t have a soulmate mark like everyone else; even his ace and aro friends confirmed they had soulmates too, so why was he skipped over? Probably because no one would ever want to be his soulmate.Yeah. Probably.

Virgil was lost in that downward spiral when Remus leapt off of the set he was painting and landed just shy of crushing the poor emo.

“Wow you look like shit,”, the trash rat greeted, sitting and slinging an arm around Virgil before he could protest, “Are the girls fighting again?”

Virgil tried to stifle a snicker. It’s a stupid meme reference, Virgil, don’t laugh.

“Of course it fucking is, when is it not?“

Remus nodded, though he looked more bored than sympathetic, “Well, how about I offer you some advice, my good bitch?”

Virgil squinted at him in both annoyance and suspicion. “If it’s going to get me arrested, it’s a solid ‘fuck no’.”

“Relax, asshole, it’s totally legal and requires zero body bags and or falsified witness statements!”

Well. That’s about as good as they’re going to get. Virgil huffed, “Fine, give me the deets, Ratman.”

Remus snickered at the old nickname; A decade had passed but still the memory of the two of them graffitiing their high school gym with their tags on their last day still lived on.

“Alright, Stitch Bitch, here’s how you do it,”, Remus ignored Virgil’s eye roll and continued, “Ask them both on a date, same place and time. Talk about your interests, since you’re probably not gonna actually have that much in common, then you can just reject both of them! They’ll be driven into each other’s arms, or some shit. You know what they’re like, they’re dramatic as fuck. It’ll be perfect.”

Virgil wasn’t amused, “But what if they don’t? What if I just end up breaking both their hearts and they wind up all depressed and-?!”

“Then it solves your problem anyway, dipshit.”, he rolled his eyes, “Jeez, you’re worse than Roman with the dramatics! Think of the middle ground, you turn them both down, they go home sulking, but they’re big boys! They’ll get over it and get together some other day! Big deal!” Remus affectionately ruffled Virgil’s hair and didn’t stop until Virgil all but threw him off, “Alright, alright, fine! I’ll try, but if it all goes wrong, you’re helping me pack to move across the fucking globe.” “Ooh, alright! Or I can hide your body if it goes REALLY badly! I know how to make sure the police never find it, after all! Did you know you just need to bury it vertically and put a dead animal on top-”

Virgil tuned him out, already trying to narrow down locations for dates in his head. He’d need to pick somewhere both Roman and Janus would agree to go. He didn’t exactly doubt either of them would turn him down, but he needed to be sure they’d both attend. Perhaps the local restaurants would be a good place to start? It’d be easy to Mrs.Doubtfire that shit. Minus the clothing change, of course. Maybe the Golden Palace might be a good idea? It’s bougie enough for Roman, classy enough for Janus, and if Virgil got lucky enough, perhaps they’d both be the ones to pay for dinner.

“...And so I told Roman about it and then Roman tells me “Remus, you dunce, you got arrested because you were caught carrying a dangerous weapon in Starbucks” but I personally think that cop was just an asshole. I mean, it was just a baseball bat for fuck’s sake, so WHAT if it had a few nails in it-”

The techie noted that Remus was still babbling to himself so he clicked his fingers just shy or flicking him in the ear,

“When’s Roman free? I know Janus is pretty flexible-”

“I’ll bet.”, Remus snickered. “Dude. You have your soulmate, don’t be a dick.”

“Hey, that doesn’t mean I can’t mentally rank every guy here on how bendy I think they’d be in bed-”

“THAT ASIDE.”, Virgil interrupted, rubbing his temples like it would squeeze out the horrible mental image and several questions he never wanted answers to, “I’ve nailed down the where, I just need the when. Janus is free most days, but Roman’s pretty enigmatic about that shit. Do you know if he’s free tonight? Might as well get this shit over with.”

Remus mulled it over, “He should be. But you should probably just ask him first then Janus. Y’know, save yourself the trouble.”

Ah. That did make sense. Virgil tried not to let it show that he hadn’t thought of that and nodded, “Right… Okay. Just, if I fuck up talking to either of them, be ready.”

“With the car or a shovel?”

“Both.”

The trashrat snickered and let Virgil stand up, giving him an ‘affectionate’ jab in the back of his knee just to get a reaction out of the techie. Virgil wasn’t sure why Remus did that sometimes, he figured it was just another one of the demented twin’s eccentricities.

Inhaling deeply, Virgil sought out Roman, careful to avoid Janus’ line of sight as he tapped the flamboyant twin on the arm. Roman spun to face him, his expression lighting up in a way that made Virgil shamefully wish that he was his soulmate. That he was worthy of all his doting.

“Virge! What can I do for you, my dark and stormy knight?”

Stop being so fucking charming perhaps?

“Uh, it’s kind of an embarrassing request, so bear with me.”

“Of course! What’s up?”

Just ask him, ignore the butterflies, he’s not your soulmate.

“I was wondering, if you’d want to go on a date with me tonight-”

Roman positively swept the emo off his feet, his beaming smile could have burned itself into Virgil’s eyes.

“YES!! YES, I’D ADORE-”

“YEP! Okay, that’s great!”, he shushed him, trying to keep things as quiet as possible, “Listen, I know you’re excited but I’m really anxious about this-”

“Nothing new there.”, Roman chuckled affectionately as he put Virgil down.

“Oh shut up,”, Virgil smirked, pushing down the sunny feeling that chuckle brought out, “Look, I’ll text you the details so can you just keep this between us? I don’t want anyone gossiping. Not that I’m ashamed of you or anything I just-”

Roman carefully halted his word vomit with a gentle caress of Virgil’s cheek, “It’s alright, I understand. After all, with such an honour, I’d do good not to betray the trust of my charming prince.”

Virgil flusteredly averted his gaze, “Hmph. What happened to your ‘dark and stormy knight’?”

“Well, if things go well, I’d hope to promote him.”

The wink Roman shot Virgil should be illegal, that thing could have killed him. The techie just gave him an attempt at an ‘oh fuck off’ smirk that came out more as a ‘fuck I have a crush’ shy smile.

No time to dwell on it, he had another stupidly handsome man to ask on a fake date.

Virgil checked with the stagehands and made his way over to the backstage dressing room area, finding Janus sat on one of the makeup tables while their dramaturg was busy going over some directions for their next rehearsal. Upon looking up and noticing him, Janus smirked - another expression that should be outright banned for it’s lethality - and politely requested the dramaturg ‘bother him another time’. They did exactly that, leaving Virgil and Janus alone to talk,

“Virgil,”, Janus purred with a voice like sweet honey, “what brings you here?”

Don’t think about that sexy voice, don’t think about that sexy voice, don’t-

“You, actually.” Play it cool, Virge. Be suave and charming. “I wanted to ask you out on a date.”

Janus’ eyes widened slightly in surprise. Virgil felt pretty proud to have finally stunned the silver-tongued gent, though he knew it’d only be a fleeting victory. If anyone would out-smooth even the most flirty person alive, it would be Janus.

With a snake-like fluidity, Janus slunk off of the table and made his way over to Virgil; whereas Roman was only an inch or two taller than him, Janus had a whole six inches at least. Virgil found it semi-intimidating, but that just made the taller man more attractive if he was being honest. Janus softly ran a hand through Virgil’s purple-dyed hair,

“That’s rather a bold request, Virgil. What brought this on, if I may ask? Not that I’m complaining..”

Virgil had to work extremely hard to resist the urge to nestle into the warmth of his palm. Not your soulmate! Stop it! “I uh, I figured I would take a risk for once. It’s alright if you don’t wanna-”

“No.”, Janus interjected, the hand in Virgil’s hair sliding under his chin to lock their eyes, “I’d very much like to go on a date with you. When and where?”

Virgil swallowed nervously, “The Golden Palace, tonight? I’ll um, I’ll book the table and text you the time-”

“Perfect.”, Janus smirked, gently releasing Virgil. He hadn’t realised how much he’d been subconsciously leaning into Janus’ touch until he almost felt himself sway. “I’ll be sure to wear my best suit for you. Really give you something to blush over.”

Shit.

Virgil had no rebuttal, he simply nodded and hastily headed back to his usual breakspot to work out just how he would survive tonight…

It turned out the answer was simple; he wouldn’t.

Thankfully Virgil had settled on an outfit that was just the right mix of fancy and casual; his black leather jacket hugged his shoulders which his dark purple button up sat under. He’d gone back and forward between his options for bottoms, but in the end, he preferred his black short pencil skirt and a pair of sheer black tights that matched his black ankle boots. It was a bold choice, but Virgil felt far more powerful in that combination. Like he could kick ass and get away with it.

Virgil needn’t have bothered, however, as the second he showed up at quarter to seven to meet Roman, any semblance of confidence in his ability to control the situation went right out the window. It should have been illegal to look that handsome. A white waistcoat and pants bearing gold trim, combined with a burgundy button up shirt with the sleeves rolled? How dare Roman look that beautiful-

Oh god, now he’s smiling at him from across the room. Too late to back out now.

Swallowing nervously, Virgil returned the smile and headed over to the table he’d booked; far enough from the door for Roman to miss Janus arriving, and out of the way enough so that they wouldn’t see each other too soon. If he wasn’t so nervous, Virgil would have pat himself on the back for the trouble he went to securing two tables over the phone, but the last thing he wanted to focus on was the person on the phone’s sassy remarks as he did so. Instead, he focused on Roman politely getting up to pull out his chair for him.

“You look stunning, Virge! Did you change up your eye shadow too?”

Virgil gave an anxious nod, “Yeah, I thought maybe I’d try the purple instead of solid black like usual. Do you like it?”

Roman’s grin could’ve smothered him in the night and he’d have thanked it for the priveledge, “I love it!”

While keeping an eye on the time, Virgil let himself roll into conversation with Roman; he was surprised by not only how smoothly the conversation went, but how much they had in common. Sure, there was a tiiiiny heated exchange as to which Disney movie reigned supreme, but their mutual love of Nightmare Before Christmas and the artistic pursuits made for some wonderful discussion. It was a shame Virgil had to remind himself of just why he was doing this.

He was supposed to be making his rejection of Roman easier, not more difficult.

Finally, as 8 O’clock rolled around, Janus walked in followed by a few other smartly dressed patrons. Of course, Janus very much stood out among them wearing a black dinner suit with an obsidian waist coat and golden coloured button up underneath. His usual bowler hat had been replaced for a much fancier one with a larger brim that held a marigold flower. The sight was so enticing, Virgil had to will himself to stop staring as he got up from the table,

“Excuse me, Roman, mind if I go use the bathroom?”

Roman gave a nod and Virgil made haste towards the restroom area; thankfully he’d planned ahead and knew he could use the corridor that went along behind the bar to emerge on the other side of the room without being detected. However, a new obstacle proved to be a challenge; Janus hadn’t taken his eyes off of the door since the moment he’d walked in and removed his suit jacket.

Damn. Virgil hadn’t anticipated that.

Luckily, one of the men who’d come in behind Janus - a man adorned in an off-black suit wearing a beanie, a pair of sunglasses, and a face mask - had just come out of the bathroom door behind him. Without the time to let his social anxiety kick in, Virgil stopped the man and asked quietly, “Hey, sorry to be a bother, but if you can distract the handsome guy at that table for a couple minutes,“, he began, gesturing to Janus, “I’ll give you ten bucks, how’s that sound?”.

The man seemed to stare for a moment behind the shades then silently gestured with his hands in a motion of “more”.

Of course.

“Okay, uh, fifteen?”

More again. This asshole..

“Ugh, fine, twenty! That's as much as I can spare!”

The man shrugged and nodded, gladly taking the money and, to his credit, doing exactly as was asked. Virgil watched him approach Janus, asking for the time if the way Janus took his attention and turned it to his watch was an indication. It bought Virgil enough time to ‘arrive’ just as the man gave a thank you nod to Janus.

“Sorry I’m a little late,”, Virgil apologised, taking his seat, “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting?”

“Not at all,”, Janus assured him, smirking delightedly in a way that made Virgil’s knees feel weak even in a sitting position, “You look beautiful, Virgil, if I’d known you’d look so good, I’d have picked out an even better suit.”

This fucking guy, oh my god. “Oh shut up, you look handsome as is.”, Virgil shot back, doing his best to remain calm even as Janus leant in close to strike up conversation.

“I’m telling you, babes, he’s either a cheater or he’s crazy.”

Remy aimed the stirrer he’d been using to push back his cuticles towards Virgil and Janus, then trained it on his stoic co worker, “Look, he’s got two gorgeous guys here and neither of them have noticed yet.”

The aforementioned co worker rolled his eyes, “Remy, you have once again utterly misread the situation for the sake of needless dramatics. It’s rather obvious what’s going on here if you take the time to pick up on subtle body language clues.”

“What’s this about clues, Logie Bear?”, questioned a rather eager waiter carrying a tray of glasses back behind the bar. “Are you playing Sherlock again?”

“Patton, please, refrain from the pet names during working hours, I’ve told you before-”

“While they’re perfectly suitable and welcome at home, we must remain professional at work.”, chimed in another bespectacled man who was manning the till, “It’s fine Logan, honey, let them off the hook this once, okay?”

Patton put down the tray and wrapped their arms around the man who’d just spoken, “Emile’s right! C’mon Logan, you can’t deny it, you like the name too-”

Logan cleared his throat to throw off the peachy blush that threatened to give away his adoration for his soulmates, ”As I was saying before, it’s obvious as to what this rather anxious individual is up to. His body language isn’t that of a cheater, Remy,”, the server flipped Logan the bird, “In fact, I’d hazard a guess that the poor lad is simply attempting to work out which man is his soulmate. I read a fascinating journal that talked all about this phenomenon where some soulmates are unable to see their soulmarks and thus rely on a technique comparable to sensing one’s aura-”

“Okay so like, you think he’s trying to get a read on these two to narrow it down?”, Remy interrupted before Logan could further explore his tangent, “Well then, it’s obvious which one he’s gonna pick.”

Remy gestured lazily over his shoulder at Roman, who was currently twirling his fork between his fingers, “It’s gonna be Tall, Dark and Dumbass over there, babes.”

Logan scoffed, “Falsehood. Clearly the gentleman he’s sat with currently is a much more appropriate option.”. The server nodded his head in their direction, “All factors point to the man in black not only being the more suitable option, but his body language is far more open and receptive to our subject.”

“Subject. Christ it’s like I’m back in science one.”, Remy groaned, but continued to argue, “Besides, you’re ignoring how he’s like, totes more comfortable with my boy in white, sweetie. Look at him, he can’t wait to get away from your boy in black.“

Sure enough, Virgil had gone to switch partners again, returning to Roman with a sweetly shy apologetic gesture.

Patton piped up, “What if they’re like us, Logie Bear? Y’know, more than one soulmate?”

Logan shook his head, “Ridiculous, it’d make no sense to have such a date if that were the case.”

Remy nodded in agreement for the first time, “Yeah, either way, you’re wrong on this one, Logan. Trust me, I know what a fellow morosexual looks like.”

Emile and Logan both sighed at that one while Patton tsk’d, “Remy, come on, thats your soulmate you’re talking about! You shouldn’t be mean!”

Remy quirked an eyebrow at Patton, “Babes, have you met Remus? I love the big sap but he’s a certified dumbass with a heaping dose of cryptid.”, he opened the drinks cooler and took out a lemonade bottle, not giving a shit that the three soulmates behind him were absolutely unamused. ”Anyway, if you’re so sure over who our ‘subject’ will end up with, how about we bet on it? Loser has to work two weeks of overtime and the winner gets thirty dollars or some shit. You in?”

Patton and Emile both declined, both more focused on their work and simply enjoying the dates being had, while Logan agreed wholeheartedly, “I do hope your next two weeks are free, Remy...”

He couldn’t take much more of this.

The longer Virgil kept going back and forth between the two of them - using his anxiety to buy himself time without too much suspicion - the more he was getting tangled up in feelings he knew he couldn’t indulge. Every second with Roman made him smile, even when trading verbal jabs. Every second with Janus made him feel more bold, able to flirt back every once and a while. But this wasn’t right. Janus, Roman, they were made for each other. Not for him.

He wouldn’t get to curl up next to Roman on a cold night, watching Disney movies, baking together, or following along to Bob Ross tutorials only for one of them inevitably would start painting on the other until they were both paint splattered, cackling messes.

He wouldn’t get to dance quietly in the living room with Janus while their favourite music plays, swaying softly to his favourite Jazz music, or lazily draping himself over Janus’ lap while they read their favourite books long into the night.

Virgil stared into the bathroom mirror; his ‘dates’ had been so sweet as to compliment him, but all he could focus on was how much of a mess he felt. He’s going to break their hearts beyond repair, all because he couldn’t just tell them they were soulmates. Social etiquette be damned, why had he let it go on like this?

Feeling his chest constricting, Virgil quickly grabbed his phone and texted Remus.

V: [help. Having a panic attack. Distract me]

He tried to remember his breathing exercises, chewing his free hand’s thumbnail anxiously until he got the text notification;

R: [Cool. Did u kno rabbits eat their babies when they’re stressed?]

…. Virgil heavily regretted asking Remus to distract him.

V: [Horrifying. Thank you.]

R: [Anytime, Stitch Bitch. Now what happened?]

V: [Dates backfired.]

R: [U caught feelings didnt u]

Virgil groaned and kept typing.

V: [fuck u]

R: [fuck me urself coward.]

Well at least that got a laugh out of him. Remus followed up that text before he could reply:

R: [Just go out there and tell them the truth]

V: [nope, no way, they’ll hate me]

R: [Bitch they’re both smitten w/ u it’ll hurt but they’ll live, they’re sat there worried about u]

V: [how the fuck do you know that?]

R: [Remy’s on shift tonight, he and Logan are taking bets on how things will pan out. They’ve been texting me non stop.]

That did explain a few things. Namely the one server with the sunglasses and sassy attitude who gave him and Roman extra desserts “for like, the cutest couple in this bitch”, and the other more stoic server who brought him and Janus a bottle of champagne “to celebrate a wonderful partnership”. When would his life stop feeling like a goddamn circus?

Virgil was pulled from his thoughts as his next text sent his blood running cold,

R: [u might wanna get back to em, they’ll be worried about u by now]

Dammit. Virgil had just left the bathroom to be met with a worried Roman, “Virgil, are you alright!? You were gone so long, I thought something had happened!”

Stomp down that affection you’re feeling, Virgil. It’s just gonna hurt more.

“I’m fine, its just my nerves-”

“Virgil?”

Both men turned to spy Janus entering the hallway with an expression of shock and disgust upon seeing the two of them. He promptly strode over and with surprising gentleness moved Virgil to his side,

“It’s bad enough I can’t avoid you at work, Prince, but I’ll not have you ruining our date night.”

As Janus went to lead Virgil away, Roman held onto Virgil’s hand, “Actually, Lies and Dolls, he’s with me tonight, so kindly take your delusions and leave.”

Oh my god, why did he trust Remus’ plan in the first place?! Janus smirked dangerously, “Or what, you dramatic hack?”

Roman took exception to that, and while Janus had the height advantage, Roman still knew how to be intimidating when needed, “I’ll make you leave!”

Before either of them could come to blows, Virgil got in between them. He might as well come clean,

“BOTH OF YOU STOP!”

Janus and Roman faced him, sporting stunned but ever attentive expressions. Ugh, this was gonna hurt.

“I can’t do this anymore! Yeah, I did ask you both here, and yeah! You’re both wonderful but you’re not meant to be with me! You’re meant to be with each other! Ugh, this was a mistake! I can’t-! I can’t be here, I’m sorry-!”

Virgil wrenched himself from between them, making a beeline through the tables and just getting out of the door before the two caught up to him. In the back of his mind, Virgil assumed the serving staff that followed behind were either desperate to see this unfold or just making sure this wasn’t going to be a dine ‘n’ dash scenario.

“Virge, come on, you’re not making any sense! I’m not meant to be with Janus,”, Roman assured him, rolling his left sleeve up the whole way and revealing Virgil’s soul mark, “I’m meant to be with you! You’re my soulmate, Virgil! Surely you knew-”

“That’s,”, Janus interrupted, “That’s not possible, because Virgil is my soulmate.”

Both Roman and Virgil turned to face him, watching Janus roll up his right sleeve to reveal Virgil’s soul mark in the exact same place as Roman’s had been.

To say Virgil was confused was an understatement, “W...Wait, no, that’s...”

Roman and Janus stared at each other’s soul mark then looked to Virgil, “You… really didn’t know that I- that we were your soulmates?”

Virgil shook his head, ”I don’t have your soulmarks though! It doesn’t make sense...”

He turned away, grasping his arms as he tried to make sense of all this. All his life, Virgil had looked in his mirror and wished - God, how he’d wished - to find just one mark. Something to prove that he was indeed someone’s soulmate. That the universe hadn’t forsaken him. And now he had two of the most wonderful men he’d ever met sporting his soul mark while he had nothing to reassure him this wasn’t some cosmic fluke?!

Janus and Roman stood in awkward silence, the latter giving the servers an apologetic look and pulling out his wallet to pay when the former noticed something about Virgil that had him squinting to get a look. “.... Virgil, do forgive me for this.”

Without hesitating, Janus whipped out his pocket knife - why he brought it on a date, Virgil had no idea - and cut a hole in the back of Virgil’s tights, careful to avoid his skin.

“What the FUCK, Janus!?”, came the obviously horrified reply, only for Janus to take a picture with his phone and hand it to Virgil, rendering him speechless.

Sure enough, there on the inside of his right knee joint was Janus’ soul mark.

“I just happened to spot the same shade of yellow showing through and, well….”

He didn’t need to finish, Virgil was stunned to silence. All this time, how could he have missed it!?

Well, it wasn’t in the easiest to see area, and come to think of it, his mirror was a little too high off the ground for that kind of angle, and with the marks being so small..…..

The revelation was met with a shocked gasp from Roman.

“... Virgil, may I-”

“I’ll just take them off, fucking hell!”

Both men turned away to let Virgil remove his shoes and tights in peace. When he gave them the all clear, Roman was ecstatic to note his own soul mark adorning the left knee joint. Virgil glanced towards his two soulmates, letting out a soft sigh of adoration at their delighted faces. He was feeling a whole rush of emotions, but right now? The last thing he wanted was to waste any more time.

“Gimme a second to pay these guys,”, Virgil gestured to the gaggle of servers set in various expressions of celebratory delight, “Then we can go back to my place and have a movie night.”

Roman and Janus offered sweet smiles to their soulmate; that sounded like the perfect end to a wild night.

---- Bonus (Because I got attached to this universe, fight me) ----

With the cafe clearing out aside a few stragglers, Remy sighed distantly, “Well, it’s a good thing we both won, babes, I didn’t wanna get stuck with all that overtime.”

Logan gave him a perplexed look, “Actually, we both lost, therefore we both should work overtime.”

Remy pulled down his shades to glare at Logan, “.... Are you fucking kidding me? Bitch, we WON, and we get to keep our money, babes. What part of that makes you think “nope, overtime sounds better”!?”

Logan was about to go into the technicalities when he chanced a glance back at his soulmates, watching as Patton excitedly gushed over the night’s events, stimming excitedly with their apron while Emile folded his own and put it away for the night, glad to listen to Patton’s bubbly rambling. Logan couldn’t deny, the idea of staying late while his soulmates were home without him wasn’t an appealing idea. Maybe this once he’d spare Remy a lecture.

“.... You know what, you’re right. Excuse me.”

With that, Logan went to join his soulmates while Remy stifled a fond smirk and went to go ask the last patron to leave. He wanted to just go home and collapse into Remus’ arms. Ugh, he just hoped this dude wasn’t going to make a fuss. He wasn’t sure what kind of guy combined a suit, a beanie, shades, AND a face mask, but Remy just hoped he wasn’t here to rob the place.

“Alright sweetie, you gotta go. We’re closing and I wanna get home to my loveable dumbass. Let’s go-”

The man gestured to his ear. Ah. Remy rolled his eyes and leant down to speak closer,

“I said-“

The man quickly pulled down his face mask and stole a peck from Remy, a grin spreading across his face that curled excitedly to match his moustache.

“You gotta get home to meeeee~.”

Remus took off the sunglasses and beanie, revelling in the surprise that painted itself over Remy’s face. He stood up, wrapping his arms around Remy’s waist as his soulmate tried to form a sentence, “How long have you just been sitting here?!”

“Ever since I figured it’d be funny to watch Virgil realise he was trying to set up his own soulmates-”

“You- Wait, Virgil!? That’s the guy you’re always telling me about?!”

“Yep!”, Remus grinned.

Remy wrapped his arms around Remus’ neck, unsure if he wanted to strangle him or hold him closer, “...Did you know he-”

“Had two soulmates? Yep~!”

Remus chuckled and kissed Remy’s cheek, “Virge and I used to have gym together. He kept saying he couldn’t find his soulmarks, I’m surprised he never got my hints...”

Sighing annoyedly at his soulmate, Remy pulled him in for a proper kiss before he could go on more of a tangent. Once they broke apart, Remy poked Remus’ chest,

“You made me lose thirty bucks, y’know.”

Remus grinned harder and pulled out twenty dollars “Well then, I better take this generous donation from my best friend and treat you to a milkshake on the way home then...”

-----

It’s finally doooone!!

This was a long one for sure, but sue me, I got super into this one!!

I’ll be playing catch up for a while so get ready for Day 11, I ended up with a last minute change and it’s gonna be a tear jerker. @tsshipmonth2020

Taglist: @somehow-i-got-an-account @cateye-glasses @fandomsofrandom

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princesskokichi · 5 years ago

Text

best friend headcanons for korekiyo

i realized half way into writing this that my actual best friend is a little like him so now i’m never going to stop calling her kiyo just to get on her nerves - mod kokichi

- firstly, he's going to make you read what he reads

- okay, he won't ' make ' you read it per say

- but he will recommend it over and over and over until he gets annoying and you give up and get the book

- most of the time you're hanging out at home lmao

- after school you're often coming over at his place

- it's kind of quiet there, and the lights are dim

- some people would probably be creeped out a little bit

- but not you

- because what do you have to fear about your best friend ? that he may get gum stuck in his hair again ? cute

- you're not overprotective of him or anything

- but it does bother you when people call him creepy

- if they only took the chance to get to know him, they wouldn't think that

- he's actually pretty fucking funny when you listen to him to talk

- like, his jokes are slightly outdated, but that's what makes them funny

- he brings memes that weren't even memes back from the dead and it's the funniest shit ever

- more than often, he's the one who's talking in the conversation

- he has a lot to say, and you're a pretty good listener

- he's the kind of guy who wants someone to talk to in the middle of the night about why the prussians fell

- and so he's going to text you while you're asleep long paragraphs worth of information

- and he expects a response in the morning or else you're on his bad side

- his bad side is literally just him not acting any different but being slightly pouty about everything

- like yeah, he's still doing everything the same way, but can't you / feel / the upsettie in him ?

- if you force him to go outside for some sunlight he may try to hunt you down and kill you

- you often bring two pretty umbrellas when it's a sunny day and you want to go outside

- one for you so you don't burn, and one for him

- and before you ask, yes they're matching

- since he's really tall, if you're shorter than him he will use his height to his advantage

- if he wants your attention he'll just fight for it

- by holding your book that you were reading above his head and watch you try to climb him like a monkey to grab it

- every time you make him laugh it's like leveling up in a game, it's such a refreshing feeling

- ya'll are a pair of chaotic best friends who stay inside most of the day but it's fine because you're having fun

#danganronpa #danganronpa v3 killing harmony #killing harmony #korekiyo shinguji #danganronpa korekiyo #danganronpa imagines #imagines #mod kokichi

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queen-of-bel · 5 years ago

Note

i think someone already asked for paz and kaz?? if not then them, in case someone asked for them, kandori and maki for the hc meme!

MY TWO FAVE DUOS EVER. i’ll do them all bc i could fill out a hundred prompts about them

Persona 1, Persona 2EP, general Metal Gear spoilers incoming

Putting under a read more because it is loooong (sorry in advance)

Kandori

realistic: Oh, Kandori was absolutely the one who alerted Nanjo to his existence in p2ep. I’ve written multiple posts on Kandori’s motivations, but bottom line, Kandori wanted to work against Nyarlathotep’s plans as much as he believed his fate would allow him to. Kandori had infinite strength and should have been the impenetrable stronghold that kept Tatsuzou safe. He is the only boss in the entire game to not have a low health stance, and he resists everything. He’s able to catch Tatsuya’s sword with one hand, as Tatsuya says:

“Kandori tilts his face out of the way, and when my blade grazes his ear, he grabs it with his left hand. All I have to do is pull back, and it’ll cost him his fingers. He gives me a broad, natural smile. However, even when I yank it with all my strength, my sword doesn’t move a centimeter. It’s like it’s caught in a vise.”

Kandori’s revival should not have been found out by anyone (especially since everyone watched him die the first time). But somehow, the word leaked back to Nanjo. It’s not impossible to think that it was Togashi who leaked the information, but there’s a line of Kandori’s that really makes me think Kandori himself was the source.

Once Maya et. al + Tatsuya arrive on the Nichinmaru, Kandori says that “all the players are in place”, implying that he’s the one who brought them all together like this. This was a very meticulously crafted plan, and it only could’ve worked if Nanjo heard of Kandori’s revival, which leads me to believe that it was Kandori, not Togashi, who spread the rumors of his own revival.

while it may not be realistic, it is hilarious: Due to the high levels of contempt he feels for Tatsuzou, I’d love to think that Kandori just fucks with Tatsuzou constantly. He’ll move all the furniture in Tatsuzou’s office just a few inches to the left, or he’ll swap the position of some of the books on his shelf. It’s infuriating to Tatsuzou bc Kandori’s antics are just enough that he knows something is off, but he can never pinpoint exactly what it is. Kandori, meanwhile, insists that nothing is wrong, and convinces Tatsuzou that it’s just his old age getting to him.

heart-crushing and awful: I bet Kandori kept tabs on the P1 crew during his time under Tatsuzou. While he’s said to have an obsession with Tatsuya, there’s no reason to believe that the care he showed for Maki in P1 went away, and he’s grateful to the P1 cast for saving her. I like to think that Kandori found out that Reiji’s going to have a child, and stashed away a large amount of money (bonus points if he embezzled from Tatsuzou) to send to him, especially since Reiji’s girlfriend’s house collapsed. Kandori doesn’t sign his name on it or anything, so the money arrives to Reiji in an unmarked envelope, with only Reiji’s name written on it.

Reiji first thinks that it might have been Nanjo who sent the money (because that envelope is packed, and Nanjo is the only person he knows rich enough to send that much). Nanjo denies this, and after a while, the two of them come to the conclusion that the only other possible person could have been Kandori. Reiji thankfully accepts the money, and this whole incident reinforces in his mind that “Takashi” was the right name to choose for his son.

unrealistic: In order to cope with the boredom and emptiness he felt as SEBEC’s Mikage-Cho branch president, Kandori set up a secret room in SEBEC filled with video game consoles. During the height of his depression, Kandori would just be so engrossed in his games that he would forget he has actual meetings to go to. Cue Takeda apologizing profusely to clients, saying that Kandori’s running a bit late, and Takeda has to practically drag Kandori by the collar out of the little gamer den that he’s created for himself.

Maki

realistic: After her training under Eriko, she realizes that she misses painting and wants to pick it up again. She eventually incorporates that into her profession, becoming an art therapist.

while it may not be realistic, it is hilarious: Maki really wants to be good at baking, but she’s terrible at it. You know, like this:

She knows that she’s created a monstrosity but at least it’s still edible, right? So she brings these to P1 cast reunions. Nanjo is just appalled, and has to excuse himself because he knows he’s just going to be too blunt (prompting Mark to call him a “dickweed” again). Yuka, having no filter, just straight up says how horrible they look, but then she offers to teach Maki how to bake, since she’s pretty damn good at it herself.

heart-crushing and awful: Maki definitely regrets not accompanying Maya to the Nichinmaru. She doesn’t blame Nanjo/Eriko for not being able to save Kandori, but ever since she heard that Kandori was alive again, she’s wanted nothing more than to talk to him again.

She thinks that if she were there at the undersea ruins, maybe she could have convinced him to come along with her. This regret is just going to add to the massive amounts of guilt she feels over the Mikage-Cho incident.

unrealistic: It took ideal Maki a while to perfect her “cringe” negotiation. When she first tried it, she would burst out laughing too much, absolutely ruining it, and angering a lot of demons along the way.

Paz

realistic: Kaz has constantly asked her to come feed treats to Nuke with him. She’s always agreed, because that’s the role she’s supposed to play, but she really hates it at first. Eventually, as she comes to like Kaz more, it becomes the highlight of her day, and she begins to really look forward to it. She finds herself prolonging Nuke’s feeding sessions, just so she can spend more time with Nuke and Kaz.

while it may not be realistic, it is hilarious: So you know how Paz couldn’t stand Kaz at first? She wasn’t exactly subtle about it, so everyone at MSF knew that Paz thought Kaz was an enormous idiot. Cecile was so happy to find someone else who felt that way about Kaz (and she’s always wanted a reason to get closer to Paz), so she goes to Paz to air her grievances about what a pest Monsieur Miller is being. Paz, meanwhile, does not give a single shit. She still thinks Cecile is just a ditz, and now she’s irritated that she has to deal with both Kaz and Cecile’s annoying antics.

heart-crushing and awful: I’ve thought about this for a long time. I really have. But there is nothing, absolutely nothing that can be any more awful than what we got in canon. I have a lot of characters that fall under the “deserved better” category, but Paz takes the top of that list.

Paz is a unique character in Metal Gear in that she was not supposed to have anything to do with war. Other characters’ lives in the series were intertwined with war, whether by choice or by fate. Even characters like Chico or Sunny were born into it, given their parents and upbringing.

It’s never clear how Zero was able to come in contact with Paz, but I think it was intentional to never specify it. It’s not important to know how Zero found Paz, because fundamentally, Paz is not an important person. She’s nobody special. She was literally just some random orphan living in the US, and Zero went out of his way to drag her into his plans.

To me, Paz’s character parallels the child soldiers in Zanzibar Land. They’re both representative of how ruthless Zero and Big Boss were in their quests to fulfill their interpretations of the Boss’ will. Zero and Big Boss were both willing to employ any tactic possible to reach this end goal, and they didn’t care about the pain and destruction they left in their path.

But I digress...

That being said, I think Paz felt sick when she saw MSF soldiers playing with the mini remote-controlled ZEKE that Huey had built. For her, it was just a reminder of the duty that she had to carry out. She wasn’t allowed to be happy at MSF, and she eventually would have to fight to the death with Snake.

unrealistic: Writing Love Deterrence with Kaz and Zadornov made her want to learn how to play the guitar. In my totally self-indulgent “Zero and Skull Face both get brain aneurysms and drop dead 4 days before Peace Day” AU, Paz approaches Kaz and asks him to give her guitar lessons.

Kaz

realistic: The morning after the monthly birthday party at MSF (you know, where Kaz invited everyone to see the real Kazuhira Miller?), he’s embarrassed as hell. He been so protective of Paz the entire night, and it turned out he was the crudest person at the party. He goes to apologize to Paz, and can barely look her in the eyes as he’s doing so. Paz, meanwhile, can’t stop laughing. Her opinion of Kaz had been softening ever since he visited her when she was sick, but interacting with him during the party had really made her like him. Kaz still feels a bit of shame, but upon seeing Paz genuinely laugh for the first time, he can’t help but feel so publicly embarrassing himself was all worth it.

while it may not be realistic, it is hilarious: MORE 90S FOXHOUND PETTINESS

The first year that both Big Boss and Kaz are at FOXHOUND, Kaz bakes a cake for BB’s birthday. As BB accepts the cake, he wonders if Kaz has forgiven him, but then he looks down at it and sees

And these are the cheapest, shittiest cigarettes that Kaz could make, because you know his petty ass rolled them himself. BB picks up a cigarette and it’s so sloppily rolled that it immediately falls apart and the tobacco spills all over the cake and the floor and BB looks up to Kaz and Kaz is just smiling back like

heart-crushing and awful: Ohoho, I have many thoughts as to Master Miller’s life post-Zanzibar Land and his final moments. Now that Big Boss is finally dead, Kaz’s life loses all meaning. Skull Face, Huey, Big Boss, they’re all dead, and suddenly, the decades of anger he carried with him has nowhere to channel itself to. I think he becomes an empty shell of a man, just sort of running on autopilot.

So when Ocelot breaks into Kaz’s house to kill him, you absolutely know that Ocelot wasn’t discrete about it. There’s no way that Ocelot’s overdramatic cowboy ass didn’t gloat about it, to show that he was able to get the upper hand in the end.

Kaz just doesn’t care.

Kaz’s life is plagued with regrets. While none of it was intentional, his impulsivity and short-sightedness has really screwed over a lot of people and absolutely destroyed so many people’s lives. I think when Ocelot came to kill Kaz (and I’m going to toss in a bit of torture, just because Ocelot’s petty ass remembers Kaz complaining about Ocelot’s getting “too many kicks from his ‘art of interrogation’”), Kaz just resigned and doesn’t even attempt to fight back. He knows that this is a sad and undignified way to die, but he believes that this is karma and he deserves it.

unrealistic: Okay I’ve talked about this a little, but I want to add to it.

Kaz absolutely kept a Burn Book like in Mean Girls.

After MGSV, Big Boss and Ocelot make their way in the book as well. Underneath Ocelot’s picture, Kaz writes “Too gay to function. Also, cowboys are stupid.” BB has got 5 whole pages dedicated to him, but the line that Kaz is most proud of is “Didn't shower for a month... during SUMMER, and to this day still hasn't washed his hair.”

Thank you for asking!

send me a character and i’ll give you some headcanons

#OH LORD THIS IS SO LONG I'M SORRY #mg #p1 #p2 #takahisa kandori #maki sonomura #paz ortega andrade #kazuhira miller #also now i want to rewatch mean girls #i saw the shower quote in the burn book and immediately thought of bb #also how can you not hear the 'too gay to function' line and NOT think of ocelot #90s foxhound x mean girls crossover #is it a surprise that these two are my fave duos ever?#the parallels between them #heartbreaking #thinking of zero as nyarlathotep #very juicy food for thought #answered

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ziracona · 5 years ago

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Pssst. What's your favorite dumb image/meme?

Aww geeze i dunno if I have just one. I love a whole bunch of classic vines. Memes though oof there so many let me think. There’s so many. “They had us in the first half” & “so that was a fkn lie” & the “wack” and “why would X do this?” Eric Andre meme, free real estate, sometimes things that are expensive are worse, “that doesn’t sound right but I don’t know enough about X to dispute it,” the conspiracy it’s always sunny thing, the blinking white guy & the judge mental/disappointed 3-part image of the same dude. “Why weren’t you at elf practice?!” The Kronk “it’s all coming together” and “by all accounts, it doesn’t make sense.” “Looks like X is BACK ON THE MENU boys!” & “Never thought I’d die side by side with an X,” Cat reaction pics, “This is beautiful. I’ve looked at this for five hours now,” “Ah shit here we go again,” the gif of that basketball player shaking his head & then being like ‘oof wait u right’ and nodding, the gif from the black bush skit where he knocks over a pitcher of water & flees a conference table, Paul Rudd going “OH SHIT” while the screen wobbles out of control then zaps back to normal & he goes “I’m fine,” “aren’t you tired of being nice(and/or tired of going ape shit—don’t you wanna be nice? Both vers good), emotional support X, act natural. “You are all so stupid,” “it’s about the cones/it’s about the X,” The list goes on. I’m just a big slut for memes. >u< I think these are my two faves I’ve ever made myself:

The Michael & Laurie & Loomis one took a while lol. But tbh I don’t have a fave reaction image or meme I’m sorry there’s too many good ones. I love Toby Maguire spider-man crying. The Ben Wyatt: Human Disaster turned into X other character Human Disaster is great. Sometimes it won’t even be a meme it’ll just be a super fun funny image one person made/drew that shoots me so dead I add it to my phone’s camera roll eternally to just have on hand—case in point, these 3:

Also shoutout to this image for capturing like no other a mood I’ve felt a lot this year lol.

So yeah I know “I don’t have one” is like the literally worst answer to “what’s your favorite” but my heart is just very full of memes I love them all—well, no—but I love so many. TuT if I have an epiphany I’ll add it later but as far as my brain will inform me, I just have like 50 faves. At least you got to be reminded of like a whole household of funny images reading this though! 💙

#ask #anonymous #thanks for asking sorry i have no real answer 😂

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bekahdoesnerdshit · 5 years ago

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no one else has reblogged ask meme Mondays so I'm just going fucking apeshit with u. from the big boy: b7 for raini bc it's funny, c1 for cog bc it's inchresting, h3 for brilliance bc I know there's some gay shit going on and I want to hear more, then a17 (character proud of themselves or ur proud of ur rp as them) L5 and L6 for whomsoever u want to talk about

I won’t need a readmore for this one, I tell myself. There’s not that many questions, and they’re not proseboys. I was a fool. She’s too long to be allowed to run on people’s dashboards unrestrained 😔 Thank you! For going apeshit!!

Raini

B7. How do they respond to babies crying in public? I guarantee the image you have for how Raini would react to a crying baby is 10000% correct. She’s unhappy. Uncomfortable. Unimpressed. Can you please make that thing be quiet. Why did you have it if you can’t mange it. This is why she’s never having kids. Like she’s not gonna say anything to the parents or shoot them dirty looks, because she’s not that specific flavor of asshole, but she’s going Mind Her Business and vacate the premises if possible. People who want to take care of something should just get a cat. Goddamn. There is ONE (1) baby that may qualify for an exception, and that’s Red. This is because (and please, picture Raini, the absolute picture of ‘fed up’, squatting down to look a fussy Red in the eye while she says this) “Baby Lent. You’re better than this. I know you are, and you’re letting me down. You need to stop making that noise.” This is unrelated to the question, but please also picture a Raini who was asked (blackmailed?) into babysitting using her Mage Hand to change Red’s diaper. It has nothing to do with the question but I think it’s a Very funny mental image. Thank you.

Cog

C1. Does your OC have a moral code? If not, how do they base their actions? If so, where does it come from, and how seriously do they take it? Absolutely! The way Cog approaches the world is defined by three main mantras: - Kindness is a discipline, not a character trait. - Doing the right thing isn’t always easy, but it is always worth doing. - If you are able to help someone, you have an obligation to do so. Between these three things, Cog sees the world in pretty black and white terms. There are right decisions, and wrong ones. The difference between the two is usually clear to anyone who cares to look, and so most of the evil in the world is born of selfishness. Consequently, Cog does very poorly in morally grey situations. She will commit without hesitation to any course of action that she deems “right” and “kind” no matter how drastic or dangerous it is, but she pretty much shuts down the second she’s faced with a decision that has consequences for someone regardless of what she does. I’m sure that has not, and will not, come in her life ever at all. Ahah! I think originally, this worldview was born of naivety. She grew up that religious kind of super sheltered where everything in the secular world was dangerous and dirty, and so when Cog began to realize that definitely wasn’t the case she made the choice to intentionally see the best in people and the world around her to fight what she was told growing up. When she started traveling with her party and actually seeing more of the world than the extremes of a) shitty cult town b) shiny clean magic school, she began to realize that the true state of the Wasteland was somewhere between what her Mama had told her and what she wanted to believe it was. But I’ve never in my life made a character who is stubborn as hell deep down, so instead of letting the world she found herself in change her Cog took a deep breath, rolled up her sleeves, and settled in to be the one changing it by loving and helping the people around her.

Brilliance

H3. Does your OC believe there’s only one ideal partner (or multiple ideal if not monogamous) for everyone, or that there are many people who could be right? I think Brilliance absolutely adores the idea of two people being made for one another. Two souls, wandering the world looking for one another? Who slot together so perfectly that when they find each other it’s clear they never could have fit anywhere else? Bruh. Yes, she knows love takes work. Sometimes you and your partner are going to disagree, and sometimes there’s going to be conflict. The world isn’t “love at first sight” then smooth sailing for the rest of your life. But you put in the work to make your lives better, together, because the universe gave you this person to care for. Maybe there are many people who you could be happy with, and those relationships aren’t anything to look down on. But when you find The One, Brilliance thinks, you know. She certainly did.

Don’t Worry About It

A17. What’s one of your OC’s proudest moments of themselves? Gonna hijack this question to talk about rp moments I’m proud of because Alex sorta kinda gave me permission to do that! Alright! For Raini, the biggest rp moment I’m proud of was her “I’m getting our memories back” speech a few sessions ago, specifically the line, “We’ve been fighting with one hand tied behind our backs for too long. If we’re going to die fighting this thing, I want to know exactly what I’m fighting for.” Morgan and I had been planning to kick off our return from July Hell Hiatus with Wish Two for a couple of days, which meant I was lucky enough to be able to spend a little while planning what to say. I feel like that line in particular embodies Raini’s unwavering confidence in her magic, her determination, and her specific brand of caring for the people around her without actually admitting that’s what she’s doing. I also really liked the way the scene of her apologizing to the party for being Bitchy post losing Magic for a minute went! Idk if anyone else remembers it, because it was pretty short in game, but! I thought it was a very good moment of Raini finding the most Roundabout way to say “thank you for looking out for me while I was defenseless”. If I can pat myself on the back a little, my Cog monologues kick Ass. The most recent one was when she was talking to Ace about how War is Bad (radical, I know) and there was a moment where she looked at him and said, “...I’m not going to ask for your help, because I don’t know what I’ll do if I do and you say no.” Which. OOF. That was her and I realizing in real time that she and Ace were very much on different sides of this issue. When the session ended everyone said they Loved how good and hurtful that conversation was and I :’) Also, there was a really small moment when Cog was pleading for Maelo’s life (when Sunny’s dad had him locked in a cat carrier. It’s a Long story, made slightly better by the fact that Maelo was wildshaped into a cat at the time) and Cog went Straight for the dad heartstrings by sniffling and asking if, please, would Robert at least let her say goodbye to her friend before he killed him? Please? 😢 She is using her baby face for EVIL! And oh my god how could I forget! Arcane Timeout! When the party went back to New Alexandria and was confronted by Ace for helping a prisoner escape (which, in fairness, Maelo did do) and Cog brought the encounter screeching to a halt by casting Wall of Stone to make a timeout hut with herself and Ace inside. She then sat herself down, looked Ace dead in the eye, and told him that the wall wasn’t coming down until he actually talked to her, or until he broke her concentration on the spell. She banked hard on him not being willing to hurt her, and it paid off. There were tears all around, both in and out of character. It was Wonderful. Also! I do just want recognition for the fact that I did not give into my impulses to be a little Shit as Cog last session by subtle casting Heal in Ace’s face after he Counterspelled my Healing Word. it was what I Rebekah wanted to do more than anything; unfortunately Cog is a better person than I am. There is No worse feeling than wanting so badly to do something you have no choice but to admit isn’t in character. Rip. For whatever reason, all of my favorite Brilliance rp moments came during combat. Pressing her forehead to Sabre’s after he died in silent grief, forcefully taking a Narzugon off his Nightmare and then using Misty Step to mount it herself and take off after her friend, planting herself in the chokepoint of a hallway to stare down three minotaurs so she could keep her party safe behind her, pushing deeper into the hellwasp nest to rescue Dembe and Sabre despite knowing that doing so all but destroyed her chance of making it out alive, the list goes on. There were good out of combat moments too (despite the rest of the party’s best efforts 🙄), but I feel like for once I made a character who really shone in combat. oh GOD I just remembered one really really good rp moment, when our rogue Zihro died when he got separated from the party during combat. We finished taking care of the main devil we were fighting, then began searching the dungeon for Zihro and the npc he was with. We, instead, found both of their corpses. Dembe looked to Brilliance, our healer, and demanded to know why she was just standing there instead of fixing their friend. We were only level three or four at the time, so Brilliance had to tell Dembe, again and again, that she couldn’t fix Zihro. It was too late, she wasn’t powerful enough yet, her goddess wouldn’t answer a prayer like that- It was a rough scene, and without question one of the best rp moments I’ve had with that group. Tae, if you’re reading this, you’re the only one with rights. Also, please unfollow this blog immediately. Now as a quick pick-me-up after that mess, Pip’s best rp moment was when our barbarian Durokal -who couldn’t read and had a habit of running off and causing Problems- found a plaque he could tell had five words on it, and called Pip over to read it for him when Pip finished chasing him down. Pip, annoyed and out of breath and all of two feet tall, looked up at this 7 foot half-orc and told him, “It says: I’m. Gonna. Kick. Your. Ass.” Also, he regularly called very powerful figures in Barovia by sweet nicknames with “Mr.” in the front. As a sign of Respect. Because he’s the Best. sdfhsdkfj he also he couldn’t think of a fake name quick enough one time so he told an npc that is name was Dick and he was Very embarrassed about it. She: bought it!

Brilliance, Again

L5. Which OC do you think is the most decent morally or behaviorally? AKA, which is supposed to a “good guy”? The answer is Cog, but we already went in depth on her morals this ask. She’s HAD enough screen time let’s move on. Brilliance is the only other character who, if asked, would say they saw themselves as a good guy instead of just “a person”. She strives to do right by the people around her, and to protect the light and beauty found in the world. She doesn’t have the same illusions about the world wanting to be a good place that Cog does, and she very much understands that sometimes the best thing you can do for the world is to put the things that make it dangerous six feet under. What’s interesting I think is that, despite being a paladin, she isn’t Lawful Good! She’s Neutral Good, because you know what? She wants to do the right thing, and laws aren’t always right. It’s up to you, as a person with a mind and free will and agency, to look at a situation and decide what you think is the right thing to do. And, for Brilliance, generally the right thing to do is heft her sword, raise her shield, and face trouble head on.

Raini, Once More

L6. Which OC do you think is the worst morally or behaviorally? AKA, which is supposed to be a “bad guy”? I don’t have any evil aligned characters, because I personally find things like “getting along with my party members” sexy, but the character who’s the shittiest and the worst is obviously Raini. She’s not a bad person per say, she’s just selfish and results oriented. Very much “the ends justify the means” and in a party like hers she’s aware that somebody has to be the bad guy sometimes, and she’s not afraid to make sure that’s her. She’s also very very likely to fall victim to her hubris making her feel like she definitely knows what’s best, and acting on that maybe without consulting other people (see: the whole fucking premise of the campaign). She sees a goal, she sees a way to accomplish that goal, so why shouldn’t she begin taking the necessary steps to reach it? I think the events of the game have mellowed this flaw out a little bit, but you can still see traces of it in the way she, for example, wordlessly handed Lent a bunch of diamonds before launching her consciousness into the Abeast and very nearly dying in there without consulting with the party first. It happens! Also, behaviorally, she’s just. I mean. She’s like that. The worst. And that, I promise, will never change.

#syn-odics #Rainivere #amnesia campaign #cog #wasteland campaign #brilliance #dia #word count: 2273 #new tag! just for my own personal edification #answered #mine

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unfortunate-stranger-losers · 6 years ago

Text

Six Baudelaires AU, Part Three: Reference Guide

A quick guide for everything I intentionally referenced in The Six Siblings, That’s Not How the Story Goes.

{ao3} {tumblr} {part one reference guide} {part two reference guide}

Without further ado…

Chapter One / Prologue - in which the Baudelaires get lost at the train station

“We’re dead as heck.” Nick shrugged.

Considering the younger age of the children here, they use much lighter swear words.

Klaus had his hands over his ears, and he looked on the edge of tears. “It’s too loud! It’s too loud!”

Klaus is overstimulated.

They were in some kind of shoeshop, and a ginger man glanced at them. “Oh, hello!” he said. “Are you- where are your parents?” [...] “When did you see them last?” [...] “Why don’t you have some snacks? It’s all vegan, if-”

The shoemaker that helps them out is Drumstick from File Under: 13 Suspicious Incidents, who is noted to have made money repairing shoes.

“Lilac is almost-nine,” Klaus said, “And she’s got two braids cause she wants to be like Wednesday Addams on TV.”

The Wednesday Addams reference should be obvious, though I should point out that Lilac wants to emulate the 1960s Wednesday, which is the one she’s seen on TV; the older show once again makes the time period ambiguous.

“Oh my God.” Beatrice was saying. “Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God.” “Kids, are you alright?” Bertrand asked, the second they pulled away. “Did anything happen?”

Pretty clearly, the Baudelaire parents were terrified that VFD had abducted their children while they were separated.

“No! No, we’re gonna be fine!” Lilac said quickly. “We just need to find Klaus and Nick. I… I’ve gotta find them. I’m in charge. I’ve gotta find them-”

Ah, Lilac’s already got Anxiety™.

Rest of the fic under the cut.

Chapter Two - in which Violet saves everyone’s asses

No major references in this chapter.

Chapter Three - in which Sunny cusses quite a bit

“Their species can completely freeze over in cold temperatures.” Solitude assured him. “So they may stop moving, almost look dead, but they’ll be alright, and they’ll unfreeze when we get somewhere warm. We’ll have to catch them up on whatever happens.”

Babbitt’s based off of a wood frog, which do freeze in low temperatures.

Also to note: by this point in the fanfiction, Solitude no longer uses babytalk, and instead speaks in full sentences.

Chapter Four - in which the Baudelaires join the Snow Scouts

“Oh, yes.” Klaus said. “Those snow gnats behaved like Violent Frozen Dragonflies.” “Guys…” Nick whispered, but none of them heard him.

Nick is not a fan of VFD at this point, but his siblings are too busy trying to get help from this scout that they don’t immediately notice his discomfort.

As her story continued, Nick pulled on Klaus’s sleeve, gesturing that he wanted to talk, but Klaus shook his head; the other Snow Scouts would notice them leaving.

Trying to tell Klaus something about VFD.

“I mean it.” Nick shook his head. “Things can’t ever go back to the way they were. Even if one- or both- of our parents is up there, and they shove Olaf off a cliff and take us home… it’s not going to be the same. We… we know too much.” His siblings remained silent, processing this, as Nick wiped his eyes on his sleeve. “They won’t protect us.”

Nick knows how VFD recruits its “volunteers”; his fear is that their parents are alive and consented to them being recruited, and will just turn them over to VFD.

Chapter Five - in which Nick gets to climb something again

She hmmed, brushing her bangs out of her face as she considered what she could make with all of this.

Sunny already has long hair that she’ll need to tie back while thinking, like her big sisters.

Sunny held out the mug of orange juice, and said, “Aurantiaco,” which meant, “Chip away at the juice until you have shavings, so I can make orange granita.”

“Aurantiaco” is derived from the Latin adjective “aurantiacus”, meaning “orange.”

Chapter Six - in which Sunny makes a signal

Quigley gave her a smile, and then looked back down, as the Baudeaires crowded around him- all except Lilac, who was still staring at the smoke. “Well, we’ll have to go back through the Vernacularly Fastened Door, down the Vertical Flame Diversion, hike the path the Snow Scouts are taking- and they might notice we’re gone by now so we’ll have to come up with some excuse, Duncan always said you could never go wrong with an exit pursued by a bear-”

A reference to a famous stage direction from William Shakespeare’s The Winter’s Tale.

Chapter Seven - in which Lilac goes feral

Nick bit his lip and pushed a charred novel back onto the shelf, before moving to scratch his arm.

TRIGGER WARNING: SELF HARM MENTION

Once again, Nick’s arm scratching occurs whenever Olaf or his troupe are mentioned.

Klaus walked over, too, and he pulled his siblings into a hug. “We’ll protect each other.” he said. “Okay? No sacrificing ourselves, no kidnappings, no separations. No more.”

Klaus really wants to make sure Lilac doesn’t try to trade herself, like she tried to do with Nick.

“Lilac, seriously, I can’t breathe-” “Then suffocate.”

A reference to the popular meme:

“We hate to interrupt!” came Lilac’s voice, and Violet and Quigley turned to see her and the twins run back into the kitchen, “But we found something!”

Lilac: Y’ALL BETTER NOT BE FLIRTING IN HERE

Chapter Eight - in which the Baudelaires raid the fridge

Solitude looked up. “Sure, hon.”

A reference to the meme:

“I was making them an anniversary present- a map of all the places they’d traveled.” Quigley sighed. “And I never got to tell them that I don’t…” he hesitated, and then said, “I mean, Duncan and Isadora came out to them, but I never told them that whenever I was doing astronomy class and called myself a space ace…” Violet laughed, and Quigley flinched. “No, no, I’m not making fun of you, it’s a good pun, I’ll have to make sure Nick knows it.”

Quigley and Nick are both asexual.

“I think my parents found out when I told them I wanted to marry both Elizabeth and Darcy.” Violet smiled. “Lilac and Nick teased me about that for years. I don’t even know if they remember now.” Quigley stared at her. “Holy shit. Vi… I said the same thing.”

A reference to Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen.

Violet is bisexual, Quigley is biromantic.

Nick slid against a half-collapsed wall, screaming into his lap, hot tears springing to the edge of his eyes and streaming down his face.

TRIGGER WARNING: PTSD, SELF-HARM

Nick goes away to have a panic attack without his siblings worrying about him; it’s also explained in this segment how his scratching is him desperately trying not to slip into a flashback.

Chapter Nine - in which Lilac and Nick are very pissed off

“Nocere!” Sunny said, which meant something like, “I’m alright, they haven’t done anything too bad.”

“Nocere” comes from the Latin verb “noceo”, meaning “to hurt.”

“Uncus!” “The hook-handed man made it so I didn’t freeze.”

“Uncus” is the Latin word for “hook.”

And then she asked, “Senio?” which meant, “Where are the others?”

“Senio” is the Latin word for “six.”

“Nosra,” Sunny said, which meant, “A man with a beard but no hair and a woman with hair but no beard; they’re arsonists who burned down the Headquarters.”

“Nosra” is “arson” spelled backwards.

“Coquus.” Sunny said. “I can do that. There’s enough ingredients to make spinach rolls in the trunk, including an eggplant that’s about as big as I am.”

“Coquus” is the Latin word for “cook.”

“I know, Vi! I know what they’ll do to her, what they’re probably already doing to her!”

Obvious reference to Nick’s time as a captive, but subtler reference to the fact that Olaf tortured him with the information of what he’d do to each sibling in turn.

“Yes, she is!” his voice broke. “I was helpless! I thought I wouldn’t be, but I was! And she’s a baby! I was almost thirteen!” Tears streamed down his face, as he pushed her again. “I was almost thirteen, and I was wrong!”

Reference to a similar line spoken in every All the Wrong Questions book.

Chapter Ten - in which Nick spills some Bitter Tea

Title is a reference to Kit’s quote, “Tea should be as bitter as wormwood and sharp as a two-edged sword.”

“Sure.” Nick said. “We can be Volunteers who want to recruit our innocent little baby. They’ll believe that.”

A reference to VFD recruitment tactics.

“Isa had a huge collection of what me and Duncan called ‘goth poetry.’” Quigley said, smiling. “She likes to recite, too. Verbal stim.”

Isadora (and all the Quagmires in my headcanons) is Autistic. Nick has ADHD and also stims with recitation.

“It’s not. Snicket’s real. And he…” Nick shivered. “Let’s just say he’s definitely real. Maybe even still alive.”

“He’s real and he fathered my oldest sister.”

That’s when they heard the crash, and Esme’s scream. They all fell silent for a second, and then Nick let Quigley go.

An intentional combination of the Book version of this scene - where they decide to warn Esme- and the Netflix - where she traps herself.

There was a flash of recognition, and then she smirked. “Well, well, well.” she said. “If it isn’t Beatrice’s little angel.” Nick’s hand flew to his necklace, as his glare intensified. “Fancy seeing you here, I thought you were supposed to be smashed at the bottom of the mountains.”

Something Olaf called him in Chapter Fourteen of Part Two; Nick was very close to Beatrice, whom Olaf and Esme both despise, so you can bet they took a lot of their anger on her out on him.

“Fancy seeing you here.” Nick said. “I thought you were supposed to be somewhere in the second circle of hell, but I guess you can’t have everything, can you?”

In Dante’s Inferno, the second circle of hell is the circle of Lust.

“Why he’s here doesn’t matter.” Nick said, and then he smiled very coldly and said, “What matters is you’re our hostage now, so I’d suggest you shut the fuck up and do what we tell you to do.”

Was going to make this more obvious in the text but decided against it, so here’s a fun fact: this is something that was said to Nick during is captivity. He’s getting a lot of joy out of saying it to Esme.

Chapter Eleven - in which Carmelita gets adopted

Nick took a deep breath, and then said, his voice breaking, “Don’t act like I don’t know what you’d do to her. If you have laid a single fucking hand on my sister, there will be hell to pay.”

Once again, a reference to Olaf torturing Nick with information on what he planned to do to the other Baudelaires.

“Why are you recruiting us, too?” Colette asked, peering from the net. “We already work for you.”

Changed from Fernald to Hugo, Colette and Kevin in order to explain their absence in TGG.

Esme glared at him. “We don’t need that ugly girl. Having an infant servant was fun.”

TRIGGER WARNING: CSA MENTION

Esme knows about Olaf’s attraction to Lilac/Violet and is jealous, instead of being, you know, disgusted and horrified.

Carmelita just smiled and gave Esme a hug. She turned towards Olaf, starting forwards, and just then, Nick thrust Solitude into Violet’s arms and raced ahead of her, pushing her back.

Even though Nick hates Carmelita, he doesn’t want her suffering like he did.

Chapter Twelve - in which Lilac is a Disaster Lesbian

“No- she can curl up inside a diving helmet! Aye! The helmets have a tiny door on the neck just for such a purpose! Aye! I’ve seen it done!”

Though this doesn’t happen in-fic, this did happen in the original book lol.

“Actually,” Nick sighed, laying his head on Klaus’s shoulder as Soli wriggled around to try and get a good view of the captain, “He’s the researcher, I’m an… well, I…”

Nick’s having an identity crisis brought on by the PTSD; he’s not sure who he is anymore.

“Come on, Lilac will be fine in a minute.” Nick said, elbowing Klaus. “She just needs to time to adjust. You know. Like Sappho.”

Sappho - a famous lesbian poet.

Chapter Thirteen - in which I bang my head against a table because I have to pay attention to Widdershins

“No, no, we do!” Fiona looked ecstatic, and Lilac let out a squeal as Fiona grabbed her hands. “One of our previous crewmembers, the one who later turned out to be stealing information on VFD headquarters, she stockpiled a shitton- oh, sorry, I mean a lot of coffee.”

The “spy” may-or-may-not have been an anti-VFD Ellington Feint...

“Now, I’m sure you have lots of questions.” Fiona said as they walked. “Definitely.” Nick said. “Number one, how d-”

A reference to the meme/quote from “The Office” (US) 4x11:

Chapter Fourteen - in which the Baudelaires encounter a Great Unknown

“Let Violet work on the wheel,” Klaus suggested, “And maybe Fiona can help Lilac with the telegraph.”

These kids are gonna get Lilac a girlfriend if it kills them.

“Don’t worry,” the captain replied, “We’ll find a spouse for the others, too! Aye! Perhaps we’ll find your long-lost brother, Fiona! He’s much older, of course, and he’s been missing for years, but if Klaus can locate the Sugar Bowl he can probably find him! Aye! He’s a charming man, so one of the girls would probably fall in love with him, and then we could have a double wedding! Aye! Right here in the main hall of the Queequeg! Aye! I would be happy to officiate! Aye!” “Okay, well,” Nick said, as everyone stared at each other incredibly uncomfortably and he finally made his way to stand beside Klaus, “That’s not going to happen, for a number of reasons. First of all-”

First of all, Klaus is gay.

Second of all, Fiona is gay.

Third of all, Lilac and Fiona are the ones flirting.

Fourth, everyone’s too young to get married.

Fifth, Nick is aromantic.

Sixth, “your older long-lost brother” is not a good phrase to throw around to a group of children who’ve been trying to escape a man who tried to marry Lilac.

Seventh, your children are not fucking prizes to hand out???

Eighth, what the fuck dude.

Chapter Fifteen - in which Lilac and Fiona are Gay as Hell

“I mean, you could call them King stropharia. I just like the scientific names. They’re fun to say.” “Oh, that’s completely valid.” Lilac smiled. “I learned Russian when I was younger just because the boys read Anna Karenina and all the names were fun to say.”

Autistic verbal stims!!

“Lentinula Edodes.” Fiona said, smiling at some fungus growing on a hardwood log. “Also known as Shiitake Mushrooms.” “Shiitake?” “Don’t start.” Fiona giggled.

It sounds vaguely like “shit.”

Lilac and Fiona returned to the dorms very late, arms linked together as they chatted about a book they’d both enjoyed, about another sugar bowl whose contents were actually very well known.

A reference to We Have Always Lived in the Castle by Shirley Jackson.

Nick, meanwhile, was passed out on a chair near the door, almost having fallen over; Lilac recognized this position quickly, from the many times he and Klaus or Violet would sit at the bottom of the stairs waiting for their parents to come home late at night. “He was waiting for us.”

Nick was waiting up to talk to Lilac, probably to tell her about the Snicket Thing.

She carried him to a bunk, lowering him onto it. “Go back to being five years old, okay?” Lilac whispered, reaching over to grab a blanket. “We’ll lock you in the closet again and then make ice cream towers.”

“Lock you in the closet” is a reference to the one-shot.

Ice Cream towers are a reference to the prologue of part two.

Lilac sighed and pulled the blanket over him. “You’ll be okay. You want me to sing?”

All the references to Lilac singing someone to sleep are reference to the song “Asleep”, performed by Emily Browning, Movie!Violet’s actress.

“Good or bad cry?” Lilac shut her eyes. “Both.” she admitted.

Chef’s Salad.

Chapter Sixteen - in which the Crew goes swimming

They heard what sounded like a very suspicious watery noise, and Nick said, “If this submarine is flooding, I’ll take one for the team and die first.”

Reference to this line from Part One, Chapter Four: “Do you think if one of us died, the rest’d get transferred somewhere else?” Nick asked, hanging upside-down from the rotting couch. “I’ll take one for the team.”

“Nobody’s dying.” Lilac sighed, not looking him in the eye.

Nick’s lowkey suicidal remark scared her quite a bit.

“How about some of us stay here and do more research,” Violet suggested, squeezing Nick’s hand, “And the rest of us look for the Sugar Bowl? I can stay with Nick and try to work with the submarine. Nick, maybe you can dig through books and see if you can find anything on the Gorgonian Grotto, or the Great Unknown, and read it to me while I work.” [...] He’d found something that seemed to be filed under the Great Unknown, but it was probably misfiled as it just talked about a tearoom and a roadster.

Probably my most blatant reference to Movie!Klaus’s actor, Liam Aiken, narrating the All the Wrong Questions audiobooks.

“Ekab!” Sunny said, which meant, “I can stay here and cook!”

“Ekab” is “bake” spelled backwards.

“I’m sure someone did, aye.” Widdershins waved his hand. “Whoever got assigned the job. Perhaps R, or her daughter, they may have been nearby at the time. Or Larry, aye! We weren’t told about who was in charge of you, just that we needed to document information and track the Sugar Bowl!”

A reference to Jacquelyn (the Duchess of Winnipeg, making her either R or her daughter) and Larry Your-Waiter following the Baudelaires in the Netflix series.

“Don’t you worry, Nicholas! Everything’s for the Greater Good!"

While Widdershins usually calls him Nick, he slips up here, much like Poe always does; Nick hates being referred to as Nicholas.

“Besides, VFD wouldn’t abandon you! Aye! You’d be a great volunteer! You’re a dedicated researcher! Aye! You’re a saint! Aye! You’re an angel! Aye! You’re a-” Nick stared at him in horror, and then said, “I have to go!” and took off running.

Nick was already put on edge by this victim-blaming conversation, the revelation that multiple people could’ve helped him, his siblings leaving, the VFD cult stuff, and Widdershins’s constant bullshit, but the use of the word “angel” sets him off the edge; it reminds him too much of being referred to as “Beatrice’s Little Angel.”

“Okay, so, I found a box of rubber bands.” Lilac sighed, sitting atop a chest. “And half a gun, a broken mirror, what might be a microphone, and a scattered notebook with sketches of some kind of snake.” Solitude peered over her shoulder, her arms full of bottles. “I don’t recognize it.” she said sadly. “Also, it’s not a snake. It’s got legs, see there?”

Lilac found sketches of the Bombinating Beast.

Chapter Seventeen - in which Violet doodles

“Precisely.” Lilac said. “It’s something that’s not a choice at all. Our Mother used to give us Hobson’s Choices. She’d say, ‘Lilac, you can dust the furniture, or I can play polka music all night.’”

A reference to Lemony Snicket’s dislike of polka music in File Under: 13 Suspicious Incidents.

“She’d do that with the others, too.” Lilac recalled. “Violet could clean her room or we’d stand in the doorway and sing Row Your Boat, and Nick could be nice to guests or be made to read that third book about those kids in a maze, and Sunny could have a bath or a pink dress.”

A reference to The Maze Runner: The Death Cure by James Dashner. I hated the entire series, but the third book was the worst.

TRIGGER WARNING: Following references for Chapter Seventeen discuss Nick’s self-harm in detail.

She ran a hand over her ponytail, and then she said, “Nick, I will be right back, but you have to promise not to lock the door.”

She is scared he’ll lock her out and continue self-harming.

As soon as she was out of Nick’s sightline, she buried her head in her hands, struggling to remain calm. Don’t freak out. Don’t freak out. Help him now, freak out later. You need to help, Vi. Just keep moving.

Violet knows freaking out in front of Nick will just make him feel worse

Do the scary thing first, get scared later.

“No come in!” Sunny shouted. “Surprise!”

Sunny’s preparing Violet’s cake.

“Nodnaba,” Sunny said, and Violet heard her sliding from the counter. “He and Widdershins stepped out a moment; they’ll be back soon.”

“Nodnaba” is “abandon” spelled backwards.

Widdershins and Phil have “stepped out”, and either right now or very soon will be abandoning ship.

“Crayola,” Sunny said, which meant, “There’s a whole box of markers right here, for writing labels on cannisters. Can you bring them back when you’re done?”

Very obvious reference to Crayola art supplies.

“Alzatadispalle,” Sunny said, which meant, “Eh, fine, I don’t care about this submarine much anyway.”

“Alzata di spalle” is Italian for a shrug.

But she swirled the marker- a light blue color- around her brother’s arm, until there was just a jumble of color. Then, an idea finally coming to her, she took a black marker and drew some squiggles above it, mirroring the shape of their Uncle’s prized snake, the Incredibly Deadly Viper. It felt like a lifetime since they’d seen him.

A reference to Ink swimming through the sea at the end.

Violet took his hands, squeezing them softly. “When you feel… feel like you want to scratch without an itch, I want you to take these markers and draw where you… where you want to hurt. Do that instead. It should help. And if it doesn’t, I want you to tell me, okay?”

This is a legitimate coping mechanism for self-harm; drawing on skin with pens or markers.

Violet waited until he met her eyes, and she admitted, “About two years ago, I asked Father why he had pen drawings on his arm.”

Bertrand dealt with depression and self-harming tendencies, as well. Violet was the only kid who knew, and only because she asked.

Chapter Eighteen - in which Solitude catches a cold

“I found a newspaper scrap.” Lilac said. “I, uh, read a bit. Maybe we could discuss what we’ve read while we eat.”

She read the stuff about Fernald starting the fire.

“Like… ‘poached egg’ means ‘half the battle.’” Klaus said. “Remember when Nick used that metaphor and we punched him for it?”

A reference to a tangent Lemony went on in this section of The Grim Grotto.

Soli nodded, passing Klaus the wasabi and Lilac two cannisters, and soon they put on their diving helmets, suiting up for their return journey. Solitude hmmed as Fiona helped her put her helmet back on, saying, “Sand’s inside, I think.”

The spores.

“Senso-orario,” Sunny said, which meant something like, “I fell asleep in the kitchen, and when I woke up, Phil and Widdershins still hadn’t returned, and now I can’t find them anywhere.”

“In Senso orario” is an Italian term for “clockwise.” “Widdershins” means “counterclockwise.”

Chapter Nineteen - in which Olaf is a dick

“Ha ha ha heepa-heepa ho!” came a villainous laugh from the hallway, and within a few moments, Count Olaf entered, dressed in a similar suit of slippery material, only with a portrait of Edgar Guest instead of Herman Melville. “Tee hee tort tort tort!” “No, no,” Violet looked up, giving him a glare. “Don’t do that.”

A reference to me not wanting to write Olaf’s villain laughter for like three chapters.

He stepped closer, putting a hand on Fiona’s chin. Lilac gasped and ran forwards, slapping his arm away. “You must be Fiona.” he said. “Why, you’re all grown up! The last time I saw you, I was trying to throw thumbtacks into your cradle.” Nick shot up his head, giving Olaf a glare that could have killed him. “Get away from her!”

OLAF 👏 IS 👏 A 👏 CREEP

Lilac and Violet glanced at each other, and then around, trying to spot an escape route. This, however, was a mistake; Olaf figured out very quickly what they were planning, and before they could do anything, he reached forwards and ripped Nick out of Klaus’s grasp.

Once again, Olaf knows the kind of effect he has on Nick, and how protective of him the others are, and uses this to his advantage.

“My henchperson will simply torture the information out of you.” He smirked down at Nick, who was shaking uncontrollably. “Isn’t that right?” Nick didn’t respond, barely keeping himself from sobbing.

Nick’s been captured again, with his siblings. Olaf is taunting him, heavily implying that he’s going to follow through on his threat to torture Nick’s siblings in front of him before killing him.

“Umore,” Sunny said, which roughly translated to, “God, that’s a mood.”

“Umore” is an Italian word for “mood.”

“What did we tell you, you little beast?” she hissed. “You can’t get away from us.”

Most of Nick’s worst trauma came from “punishments” from when he tried to escape, which is why he panics whenever they’re about to be caught.

“Holy fuck,” said a girl at the oars, “What the hell is wrong with you all?”

Not really a reference but I just want to point out that none of these recruits have any context for this so they’re probably just. seeing all these crazy shits saying whatever they want

“I’m getting tired of this.” Olaf said, waving his sword and gesturing at Nick. “You all get to see the first brig, it’s deluxe, as it comes with a noose. I think we should put this one in the second brig for-”

A reference to Netflix’s The Vile Village: Part Two.

“I think,” Olaf said, pressing his sword against Nick’s throat, “We should put those two little rebels in with our little Nick.” Nick finally started to cry, tears streaming down his face as he almost collapsed, and Violet shouted, “You bastard! Leave them alone!”

Once again, Olaf’s planning on following through on the threats that scared Nick so badly. Violet, the only one who knows about what Olaf threatened him with, is the first to start panicking.

Chapter Twenty - in which Lilac leads a jailbreak

The title itself is a reference to Chapter Sixteen of Part One: in which Solitude leads a jailbreak.

Her younger brother finally pulled away, but only to run off to the corner of the small brig, where he leaned over and vomited onto the floor, barely keeping his own balance. Lilac jumped to her feet and dragged him towards the wall, as he shook more and clung to her arm. [...] Nick shuddered beside her, and he finally choked out, “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

Nick knows exactly what Olaf’s threatening, and he’s falling back into a pure traumatized state; he doesn’t think they can escape, he thinks he’s going to die while Olaf torments his siblings, and nothing is going to stop him.

“I…” Lilac slid onto a hard bench, where Nick sat beside her and refused to stop clinging to her side. “I glanced at the locks on our way in. They’re ordinary enough pin-tumbler locks, so- hold on a moment. Nick, Nick, please-”

A reference to a repeated phrase in When Did You See Her Last?

And then Lilac quietly sang, “Pretty when the window blows, I love my tree in autumn… Like I love my tree in summer, like I love my tree in winter… They put me in a room, and I thought of you in autumn…” She shut her eyes, humming the next line, and then she picked up again. Fiona kept working on the lock, and Nick kept clinging to Lilac, terrified to let go, and she kept singing. “Pretty when you sing me a new song in autumn, or a new song in winter, or a new song in summer…”

The song is “Pretty When The Wind Blows”, sung by Emily Browning, Movie!Violet’s actress.

The line she hums is one that would definitely not cheer Nick up - “And I’m sad I won’t see you again.”

Violet leapt in front of her siblings, and Klaus reached out to grab Sunny, who honestly didn’t look too worried.

Sunny is friends with Fernald, she knows he won’t do anything to them.

“We could pretend the Great Unknown showed up and is about to eat everyone.” Violet said. “I’m sorry, do you have a small black statue that can imitate its call?” Fernald said. “Why would I-”

A reference to Violet and Klaus’s escape in Netflix’s The Grim Grotto: Part Two.

A reference to the Bombinating Beast statue from All the Wrong Questions.

“Smelled like horseradish.” Sunny nodded.

Sunny, the chef, would remember.

Chapter Twenty-One - in which Fiona is Volatile

“I-” Nick stuttered. “I know TS Eliot.” “Macavity,” Sunny said, which meant, “Wasn’t that from your musical phase?”

A reference to a song/character from Cats the Musical, based on a poetry book by TS Eliot.

“I’ll make this simple.” Olaf smiled. “I could torture you until you tell me, or we can trade information- or a lack of information, if you so prefer.” Then, in a sickly sweet voice, he called, “Nick?” [...] “We don’t make deals with bastards.” Lilac crossed her arms. Olaf smirked, eyeing her in a way that made her incredibly uncomfortable. “Interesting choice of words, my dear Lilac.” Nick sat up, horrified, as Olaf took a step closer to his oldest sister, and then he shouted, “It’s in the kitchen!”

TRIGGER WARNING: CSA MENTION

Nick is terrified of Olaf hurting/assaulting Lilac, as well as outing her as Snicket’s daughter to everyone.

Sunny sighed and said, “Cruciatu,” which meant, “Can they kill us now?”

“Cruciatu” comes from the latin verb “crucio”, meaning “to torture.”

“I’ll be fine. If we get caught, we have a potential escape plan that involves a seaside town, a train, and a vineyard.” Fiona said. “And releasing a bunch of wild new recruits to perform chaos.”

Firstly, a reference to the Thistle of the Valley train that goes out of Stain’d-by-the-Sea.

Secondly, a reference to Netflix’s The Grim Grotto: Part Two.

As she moved slowly towards the controls, Violet at her heels, Nick curled up on his chair, and he whispered to himself, “But they were fucked up in their turn, by fools in old-style hats and coats… who half the time were soppy-stern…” He hugged Solitude very close, shutting his eyes and trying not to think about everyone who had left. “And half at one another’s throats.”

The poem later recited by Olaf in The End - “This Be the Verse” by Philip Larkin.

“Mr Poe,” Klaus said, looking from the taxi to Poe, “Have you ever heard of a Hobson’s choice?”

“You can either get in the taxi, or go with Mr Poe.”

The woman smiled at Lilac, as if she’d asked the right question.

Another All the Wrong Questions reference.

Chapter Twenty-Two - in which Kit cannot drive

“So,” Nick said, kicking his feet and glancing down at Soli, “Are we in agreement that we are ‘fucked’, a word which here means, ‘holy shit’?”

Obvious reference to Lemony Snicket’s way of defining words.

They looked to each other, thinking hard. “Well,” Lilac finally said, “In the few minutes we’ve known her, Kit Snicket has broken at least nine safety laws, driven into a hedge, and seems intent on recruiting us to spy for a secret organization.” “I like her.” Violet decided. “Me, too.” Klaus added. “Same!” Sunny said.

A reference to similar lines in Netflix’s The Penultimate Peril: Part One.

“Mother said she purchased it during intermission.” Lilac said. “She said it was the most interesting time she’d ever had at the opera, and she never wanted to forget it.” “I’m sure it was interesting.” Nick muttered, curling up a little.

Nick knows about the murder.

She moved behind Lilac, tying back her hair for her. “You look just like your father.” Kit sighed, not noticing the flinch Nick made as he reached for some food to pass to Soli. [...] “Really?” Lilac asked, smiling a little. She’d never told that she looked like her parents.

She looks like Lemony.

Violet and Nick shared a quiet look, one that their siblings didn’t quite understand, but the two of them read perfectly.

Violet and Nick, after Widdershins’s shit, are very anti-VFD.

“That’s fine.” Lilac assured her, reaching for a cup. “I like my coffee bitter.” “That is surprising.” Kit said absent-mindedly, still looking through papers.

Considering Lilac is Lemony’s daughter, and Lemony doesn’t like coffee (All the Wrong Questions), this comes as a surprise to Kit.

“That’s why you’ll be together.” Kit said, putting her hand gently over Nick’s. “I’ve received reports on your progress, Baudelaires, and while I haven’t been able to reach you, I have seen that you take care of your own.” [...] Kit gave them all a reluctant and sad smile, and then repeated, almost to herself, “You Baudelaires take care of your own.”

A reference to a line from When Did You See Her Last?: “We Snickets take care of our own.”

Chapter Twenty-Three - in which the Baudelaires enter the Hotel Denouement

Nick bit his lip, thinking about everything. VFD. The secrets. The Sugar Bowl. That reminded him of a book Lilac read him. “We’ll live on the moon.” he said quietly, his voice almost blank. “And we’ll have flying horses.” God, he wished he was still young enough to believe that.

A direct reference to We Have Always Lived in the Castle by Shirley Jackson.

When it was time to go in, Klaus and Lilac immediately threw their hands over their ears.

Overstimulation.

Exactly six bells were ringing- the extra bell, 371, 547, 674, 781 and 954.

371 - Dewey Decimal Classification (DDC) Education and Social Sciences.

547 - DDC for Organic Chemistry; Colette’s mission involves her sneaking in here.

674 - DDC for Lumber processing.

781 - DDC for Jazz is 781.65; Ellington’s career has something to do with jazz.

954 - DDC for India and neighboring countries; it’s an Indian restaurant.

Chapter Twenty-Four - in which the first three bells ring

The woman smiled, and while Lilac did not recognize the white coat or black uniform underneath, she did recognize the woman standing in front of her, even though she wasn’t bending in any unusual positions. [...] “You see, I am a brilliant chemist, as you can tell from my outfit, but I’m afraid some of these fumes have gone to my head, and I’m having trouble recognizing some words here.”

A reference to Cleo Knight, the brilliant chemist from All the Wrong Questions, who only wears black-and-white to honor the family ink business.

“I told you they’d judge us.” Kevin said. “I should’ve just called up my old gangmate.” “She wouldn’t have gotten here in time, she lives on the other side of-” Hugo began.

A reference to the theory that Kevin is Kevin Old from File Under: 13 Suspicious Incidents; his “gangmate” would be Florence Smith, who had a special interest in reading and thus have a large vocabulary.

Lilac narrowed her eyes. She recognized the chemical compounds- her and Violet had gone through a celebrity crush phase on a chemist about three or four years before- but she was having trouble figuring out what they combined into. “What is this for?”

Another reference to Cleo Knight.

He doodled the shape of a pegasus on his arm, beside the moon. He remembered that book. What else had Merricat thought would be on the moon? Rose petals. He could draw roses next.

Once again, a direct reference to We Have Always Lived in the Castle by Shirley Jackson.

“Can I help you, concierge?” Hal asked. “Um.” Nick froze a moment, panic clutching his chest. You’ve been caught! You’ve been caught! You’ve been caught!

Once again, Nick is immediately put into a panic by being caught, due to his trauma from his captivity.

Chapter Twenty-Five - in which the next three bells are answered

The door swung open just as Klaus stepped back, and he saw Charles exit, blinking over at him in a bathrobe. “Sorry,” he said, “I was hoping I wouldn’t have to call someone just to take me down the hall, but my eyesight isn’t what it used to be, and I’ve recently developed a phobia of optometrists.”

This entire scene is based on a scene that had to be deleted from the Netflix adaptation due to Rhys Darby (Charles) being stranded because of a hurricane during filming. It can be read here.

“Don’t step on the crack, or you’ll fall and break your back!” Soli sang, laughing a little as she jumped down to Room 781, trying to imitate Babbitt’s hops.

While this is a slight variation on a popular children’s game song, it’s specifically a reference to the scene between Ducky and Littlefoot in The Land Before Time.

The woman looked at her very, very carefully, and then said, “It’s alright. That’s a fake, anyway.” “Fake what?” Solitude turned to look at the statue, as the woman knelt to put it back. “It looks like a snake, but there are those little claw-shapes there, suggesting hands.” “Well, it’s a replica, made by my foster-brother-in-law’s sister-in-law. Just in case we need to switch out.” “Switch out what?” The woman glanced down at Solitude, smiling and brushing the young girl’s hair back; it had fallen a little from her hat. “It’s a long story, and you probably have work to do. I’m sure you have more important things to get to.”

The woman is clearly Ellington Feint from All the Wrong Questions; she is still very into Jazz music (hence her room), and may-or-may-not have access to the Bombinating Beast statue.

Her foster-brother-in-law (Kellar)’s sister-in-law is Ornette Lost, implying Ornette married Lizzie Haines.

Solitude blinked. This woman couldn’t know her; Soli didn’t recognize anything about her, except the record currently playing. She hesitated, and then pointed to the record, saying, “That’s a pretty song.” The woman smiled slightly. “It is, isn’t it? Do you know the name?” “Do you?”

The song is “Solitude” by Duke Ellington and Louis Armstrong; aka Ellington’s song in All the Wrong Questions.

“Really?” the woman sighed. “Okay, sweetheart, you run along. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to find my wife before she can fistfight Geraldine Julienne in the lobby.”

Her wife is Moxie Mallahan, a journalist who would definitely get kicked out of the hotel for fighting Geraldine Julienne.

“Plumber,” Sunny said, which meant, “Yeah, but she writes those shitty articles from The Daily Punctilio about us, so she deserves it.” “I thought that was Ms Poe.” Soli said confusedly.

A reference to Katherine Plumber, the journalist from the musical Newsies.

A reference to Eleanora Poe and Geraldine Julienne being combined into one character in the Netflix adaptation.

“Klaus Louis Baudelaire, are you suggesting that we have not been having a good time?” Nick said.

Klaus’s middle name is taken from his actor, Louis Hynes.

“I mean,” Nick said, considering, “The whole ‘VFD’ thing totally explains that weird-ass letter they sent us from Europe.” “What?” Lilac narrowed her eyes. “You remember?” Nick said. “When they went to Europe for, like, two weeks, and sent us that fucked-up letter about how they loved us and that even if life sucked we’d always have each other and all that bullshit?” Lilac, Violet and Klaus groaned. “Oh, fuck, you’re right!” Klaus said. “That makes so much sense now.” Lilac said.

A reference to “The Letter That Never Came” scene from the 2004 film.

Chapter Twenty-Six - in which the harpoon is fired

The Baudelaires sighed, and then Nick said, “Yeah, a little suspicious, isn’t it? Your parents burned to death the same night VFD saw fit to drag you all out.”

Highkey reference to the theory that Volunteers kill the parents who don’t want to give their children up for recruitment.

Violet nodded grimly, while Lilac and Klaus gave Nick careful looks, and Solitude and Sunny gasped quietly. Dewey scanned him with his eyes. “You would get along with Ernest.” he said finally.

The implication here is that Ernest joined the firestarters partially due to speculation about their parents’ murder, or at the very least, Ernest is incredibly critical of the way VFD is run.

“You can’t rely on associates.” Count Olaf said. “More comrades have failed me than I can count. Why, Hooky and what’s-her-face double-crossed me just yesterday and let you brats escape, and then stole my submarine!” “Good for her.” Sunny said, almost unfazed, too furious at Olaf to feel much fear at the moment.

A reference to the meme from Arrested Development:

“How do you know us?” Lilac asked, putting an arm around Violet. The man looked at her sadly. “That’s the wrong question.”

A reference to All the Wrong Questions.

Chapter Twenty-Seven - in which Nick finally spills

“Diviso?” Sunny asked, which meant, “What if they try to split us up?”

“Diviso” is a Latin adjective meaning “divided.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight - in which Everything Goes to Shit

The title is a reference to many of my other fanfictions: In the Stranger Things Superhero AU fic Shatter: Pirouette in the Dark, Chapter Nine was titled “Everything Goes to Shit”, and Chapter Thirty was titled “I already used the title ‘Everything goes to shit’ but I need to use it again”, and people thought that was so funny that it became a running joke in basically all of my fics.

“Lilac Emily Baudelaire.” “Violet Malina Baudelaire.” “Nick Liam Baudelaire.” “Klaus Louis Baudelaire.” “Solitude Theodora Baudelaire.” “Sunday Theo-dora Bau’elaire!”

The first four children have their middle names from their original actors- Emily Browning, Malina Weissman, Liam Aiken and Louis Hynes.

Solitude and Sunny’s middle names are both Theodora, to further confuse people as to what the S stands for. See: S Theodora Markson, All the Wrong Questions

Nick took a moment to respond. “E-Explorer?”

Identity crisis! Getting a bit better though.

“He murdered…” Lilac bit her lip. “He murdered Jacques Snicket!”

Lilac’s realizing here that that was her uncle.

They all turned to look at Olaf, who didn’t even look uncomfortable. They wanted him to be uncomfortable. They wanted him to be scared.

A reference to a line from Shouldn’t You Be In School?: Someone cleared their throat and we both looked back at a tall, masked figure, watching us calmly. Too calmly, I thought. I wanted him worried.

Sunny and Soli were crying, too. “Audit,” Sunny said, meaning, “People never listen to children.”

“Audit” comes from the Latin verb “audio”, meaning “to listen.”

They stood up, with Nick lifting Solitude and Violet moving to lift Sunny, and then they walked back together, holding their heads high and ignoring the stares and whispers and chills. They sat again in the front row, still holding onto each other and refusing to let go.

“Bene?” Sunny asked. “Is that good?”

“Bene” is the Latin word for “good.”

The elevator shot down to the basement, and as it did, Nick and Violet leapt onto Olaf, pummeling him with their fists and trying to rip Justice Strauss away. Olaf shouted, and Lilac and Klaus immediately jumped help, managing to pull Justice Strauss out of his grip as Soli and Sunny screeched and started biting at his ankles, with Babbitt jumping over to the judge so they didn’t get squashed. The siblings had been waiting for this a long while, and they weren’t going to waste time.

a reference to the original shitpost that inspired this au.

Chapter Twenty-Nine - in which Sunny turns to Arson

“Alexandria,” Sunny said, which meant, “Unless she has a backup, you son of a bitchass motherfucker.”

A reference to the Library of Alexandria.

Chapter Thirty - in which the Baudelaires have had ENOUGH

“And the only fucking reason,” Lilac said, sitting up and grimacing as her stomach wound flared up, “That we haven’t thrown you overboard already is that we might need bait to catch larger fish to eat.”

A slight reference to “Shipwrecked” by The Gothic Archies, which was inspired by The End.

“Cazzo,” Sunny said, which meant, “Which won’t be long, dickhead.”

“Cazzo” is an Italian curse word.

Chapter Thirty-One - in which Nick is not taking Ishmael’s bullshit

“You cannot force me to wear white.” Lilac said.

A reference both to Lilac being incredibly goth, and to her trauma from the Marvelous Marriage, where she was forced into a wedding dress.

Nick said. “Listen up, you- someone cover Friday’s ears.” Klaus reached forwards and slammed his hands over Friday’s ears. “Alright. Listen up, you bitchass motherfucker.”

I’VE COME TO MAKE AN ANNOUNCEMENT, SHADOW THE HEDGEHOG IS A BITCHASS MOTHERFUCKER-

“I was drugged up once, it’s not fun.”

I left this to be interpreted in separate ways: one, like Duncan guessed in Part Two: Chapter Twenty, Nick was drugged as part of his torture. Two, like Klaus said in Chapter Twenty-Four, Classical Literature Camp was wild.

“Yeah, it’s not.” Violet agreed.

Reference to her being drugged in The Hostile Hospital.

Chapter Thirty-Two - in which the Baudelaires make camp

“I feel like we weren’t supposed to do that.” Violet said, as they walked away from the beach.

A reference to me going very off-book.

Sunny nodded, as they placed them in front of her. “Crusoe,” Sunny said, which meant, “We can drink the milk inside, so long as we don’t allow it to ferment, and I can make us toasted coconut flakes, if you give me some room around the fire.”

A reference to Robinson Crusoe by Daniel Defoe.

“Sandstone,” Sunny said, meaning, “Can someone get me something like a bowl?”

A reference to her first line in the Netflix series: “Can you find a rock that’s not sandstone?”

They were silent again, and then Lilac said, “Um, speaking- speaking of hard things to tell- oh.”

She was going to tell them about her biological father.

Nick’s face fell. “You’re right, we don’t wanna kidnap.”

Don’t wanna emulate VFD.

Chapter Thirty-Three - in which the Baudelaires begin to heal

“Wait.” Friday narrowed her eyes. “Bears don’t live on beaches.” “I know!” Klaus laughed. “Shakespeare had no geographical knowledge whatsoever.”

Once again, a reference to a famous stage direction from William Shakespeare’s The Winter’s Tale.

“Yeet!” Violet shouted, as she threw herself beside her siblings, and after a second, Lilac flopped over, too.

A reference to the vine/meme.

Chapter Thirty-Four - in which Friday goes off-book

“Kit Snicket?” Lilac shouted. “No, Kit Kittredge.” Solitude sighed.

A reference to the American Girl doll, Kit Kittredge.

Friday sighed and stood up, taking a few steps forwards. She looked at her mother, and her mother’s outstretched arms, and then out at the crowd. Watching her. Waiting for her to listen. And then she stepped back. “No,” she said. “No, I don’t think so.”

A quick rundown of Friday’s mentality here.

Chapter Thirty-Five - in which the Baudelaires plan a mutiny

Klaus nodded. “Cinderella. East of the Sun and West of the Moon. The Juniper Tree. Little Match Girl- might skip that one, actually. Do you want to try to read it?”

Skipping “The Little Match Girl” because she dies at the end.

“Suit yourself.” said Olaf. “But you know what? I bet those islanders won’t let you back onto Olaf-Land, now that you’ve recruited one of their own.”

Intentional use of the word “recruit” here, just to taunt them.

Chapter Thirty-Six - in which we go surprisingly more off-book

“I know this.” Nick was the first one to move, stepping towards a tall fish statue, the red paint slightly peeling. He shook quite a bit as he ran a hand over it, and Klaus rushed over to put an arm around him. “We were trapped in here. How… how did we fit in here? Klaus, how did we fit?”

A reference to the fact the Red Herring statue can be seen in the arboretum in the Netflix adaptation.

Nick turned to Klaus, eyes wide. “We did fit? We were in here? I didn’t make that up?”

A very lowkey reference to We Have Always Lived in the Castle by Shirley Jackson; Uncle Julian sometimes doubts the traumatic arsenic incident that paralyzed him and killed the rest of the family really happened.

Chapter Thirty-Seven - in which Lilac has a costume change

“Why would I-” Violet asked as Lilac grabbed a knife, drew it up to one of her braids, and chopped it off. Violet leapt to her feet and gasped, while Nick’s dropped his marker in shock. Soli and Sunny let out tiny shrieks, as Friday stared and Klaus said, “Lilac!” “I need to think.” Lilac said, and she grabbed another braid and chopped it off. “And this hair is getting in my way!” “Lilac-” Klaus started forwards, but she held up a hand to stop him, and then grabbed her loose hair and started cutting. Her braids fell to the floor of the tree, as she kept cutting to get rid of the strands that could reach her face. Within a few moments, her hair was cut even shorter than the boys’, with only a small, thin braid on the side of her head.

Firstly, a reference to the fact the dramatic haircut is my favorite trope of all time.

Secondly, specifically and heavily inspired by the scene in IT: Chapter One when Beverly Marsh cuts her hair.

“Oh, fuck yeah! Deus ex Rana to the rescue!” Klaus said, rushing over first.

“Rana” is the Latin word for “frog.”

Chapter Thirty-Eight - in which the Medusoid causes a ruckus

“Hey!” Lilac shouted, stepping forwards. “What in the nine circles of hell is going on here?”

A reference to Dante’s Inferno.

“So are you, my dear.” Olaf said. He eyed her with his shiny eyes. “Why’d you do that to your hair? It makes you look much less pretty.”

Unfortunately, another reference to Beverly’s haircut in IT: Chapter One: this was the response it elicited from her abusive father.

Chapter Thirty-Nine - in which man hands on misery to man

Solitude looked to her, narrowing her eyes, a seemingly insignificant memory floating back to her. “Question mark.” she said, “Beast.”

When she realizes some stuff about Ellington’s statue.

Kit looked at her, and Lilac saw in her eyes that her choice not to take the apple had nothing to do with her child.

TRIGGER WARNING: SUICIDE

It’s often theorized in canon, and confirmed in this fic, that Kit was suicidal, which was why she decided not to take the apple.

Chapter Forty - in which the Baudelaires go on together

“We didn’t.” Sunny said, putting a hand on Lilac’s leg. “We have each other.”

A callback to “We lost everything.” “Except each other.”

“We don’t need to escape.” Violet said. She turned to Lilac. “Do you remember that musical, based on that movie, based on that movie, based on that book-”

The song they proceed to sing, “Finale”, is from the musical The Hunchback of Notre Dame, which is based on the Disney movie, which takes a lot of inspiration from the 1939 film, which was based on the Victor Hugo novel.

Also I made a gifset with those lyrics and I’m still very proud of it.

“I know.” Violet nodded. “I… I guess we can’t lock you in the closet anymore, huh?” Her smile only lasted a few seconds. “I’m sorry. Just trying to cheer you up.”

A reference to the one-shot.

They never told Bea she had the same shine in her eyes as her father. She didn’t need to know.

Bea is biologically Olaf’s daughter.

Solitude found all the herpetology books, which Klaus and Friday read to her. She furnished Babbitt’s habitat, and let her hair grow out so that she could braid it.

Just like her big sister Lilac.

“A statue normally wouldn’t mean anything,” Violet had told Friday, “But, well, Nick found some interesting accounts, didn’t you, Nick?” “Li’s Dad is a wordy motherfucker,” Nick said, tossing a file that had been slipped into a bowl of honeydew melons, “But yeah, I did.”

Huge reference to All the Wrong Questions.

Chapter Forty-One / Epilogue - in which Beatrice leaves the island

“Well, maybe we only have to last a year until Lilac turns eighteen, and then we spend our fortune on pop tarts and Pokémon cards.” Solitude said.

A reference to this Alex Hirsch tweet:

“We’ll have to come up with fake names.” Solitude giggled. “I’ll be Sensible.” “You will not, I called dibs!” Sunny shouted.

A reference to Netflix!Sunny’s name in @ornettelosts‘s Nine Baudelaires AU. Love ya, Sammie! :D

“I still wanna know how Babbitt had-” Nick began, but Klaus slapped a hand over his mouth.

“I still wanna know how Babbitt had sex.”

Lilac ran her hands over the title. “Yeah. Let’s leave this behind.” She smiled and said, “Time to go. Sound off! One!”

They’re leaving their series of unfortunate events behind.

Lilac smiled and said, “Let’s go find something new.”

There’s always something.

Perhaps, in ten years, Beatrice would have a much happier message for her uncle than he expected.

A reference to The Beatrice Letters and, lowkey, the happier version of it in Netflix’s adaptation of The End.

#asoue #asoue netflix #asoue movie #a series of unfortunate events #six baudelaires au #six baudelaires official fic #six baudelaires reference guide #six baudelaires bonus #mine

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