#please forgive my horrible writing in all of these i'm so rusty and these have been rough drafted for over a year

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

Superstar (Superstar Chapter 1)

I'm no one special, just another wide-eyed girl

Who's desperately in love with you

Give me a photograph to hang on my wall, superstar

The Reader is thrilled to start a new job at AFC Richmond- especially since it means working with a certain player-turned-coach.

Roy Kent x Reader

2.7k words

Warnings: language (because Roy Kent); I’m a bit rusty so forgive my writing!

A/N: Been having some horribly bad writer’s block in addition to work stress. Thankfully my man Roy Kent helped me finally break through!!!

~

“Well, there she is!” Coach Ted Lasso waved enthusiastically as I parked my car in the staff lot. Next to him stood Rebecca Welton, who offered the tiniest of waves and something of an apologetic smile.

I took a deep breath, my hand hovering over the driver’s side door. First day on the new job: coach’s assistant. Between three coaches, there was a lot going on; they needed someone to handle communication, schedules, and small tasks so they could focus on training and (hopefully) winning. Having grown up just around the corner from Nelson Road, it felt almost like an honor to be part of the organization.

In a blur, Ted had firmly shaken my hand for what felt like an eternity, yammered off about a dozen Lasso-isms that I wasn’t quite sure I heard correctly, and ushered me into the building, all with Rebecca following along, interjecting short corrections and reassurances every time Ted paused to take a breath.

“And this here’s the locker room,” Ted announced with a small flourish. “Now, the boys tend to be pretty modest, the only one you may see too much of is Jamie, but if you just throw a towel in his face, he’ll take the hint.” He opened the door, gesturing for me to follow.

Rebecca touched my arm gently, that tight smile still on her face. “I should be going. But please, let me know if there’s anything you need. You’re in great hands,” she added, nodding towards Ted. “Welcome to Richmond.” With another touch to my arm, she was gone.

I followed Ted into the changing room. A few guys were milling about, still in their street clothes, chattering and beginning to put their things away. They looked up when I entered, offering small nods of acknowledgement. Ted rattled off their names, all familiar to me. I made mental notes about how each one smiled and shook my hand, trying to take snapshots in my brain so I could describe every moment to my family later that night.

After meeting all the players that Ted called “early birds”, I followed Ted into the coaches’ offices, where I was quickly introduced to Coach Beard, who nodded from behind a tattered copy of Either/Or.

“Now, Coach Beard and I share this office,” Ted was explaining. “You’ll be right through here. Hope ya don’t mind sharing!” He led me through the side door to another office. “I’m sure you know this ray of sunshine here is Roy Kent.”

My stomach jumped to my throat as the man in black track pants and a dark Richmond shirt glanced up from his desk. As if I really needed to be introduced to the man whose poster still hung above the bed in my childhood bedroom. Several kits sporting his name and number hung in my closet. Hell, for one birthday my jokester dad even got me a cardboard cutout of the man. It currently sat folded in the back of a closet in my flat, but it often made an appearance in my living room when I hosted game day parties with my mates.

I was pretty sure if I dug far enough in my parents’ attic, I’d find my school notebooks with “Mrs. Roy Kent” scribbled all over them.

And now he sat in front of me, staring up at me through thick eyelashes that made me go weak in the knees. A half scowl appeared on his face. “You’re the assistant then?” He offered his hand.

I nodded, praying that neither coach could see my body trembling slightly as I reached out to shake Roy Kent’s hand. “I- I am.”

Ohmygod ohmygod I’m shaking Roy Kent’s hand I’m touching Roy Kent Roy Kent spoke to me Roy Kent is looking at me ohmygod ohmygod.

It felt far too soon when he let go of my hand. “Well, as long as you keep your shit off my desk and don’t wear any rancid perfume, we should be fucking fine.” He nodded behind him toward an empty desk. “That’s you.” Without another word, he stood up, grabbed the notebook he had been drawing in, and left.

Ted beamed at me. “Well now, that went great! That’s about as charming as you can expect Roy to be, so count yourself lucky. Now, why don’t you get yourself settled and we’ll see you in the locker room in about ten minutes?”

~

“D’you like kebabs?”

I turned my head, pausing my fingers above my keyboard. “Excuse me?”

With a giant sigh, Roy swiveled around in his chair, leaning his elbows on his knees. “Kebabs. D’you like ’em?”

“Uh, I guess.” I scrunched my nose as I stared at him. After two weeks of working for Richmond, this was the first time Roy had spoken to me so directly. Up until now, it had been mostly grunts and growls in my general direction. But, after years of watching him on the pitch, I knew by the look in his eye that he didn’t hate me- at least, not any more than he hated the rest of the world. And that was fine enough with me.

“You guess?” There was that scowl. “You either fuckin’ like ‘em or you don’t.”

It took all my strength to suppress my grin. God, he was just as gorgeous as when I used to watch him play on the television. “Fine, fine. I like kebabs.”

With a suddenness that almost made me jump in my seat, Roy stood up. “Okay.” Without another word, he walked out of our office.

About twenty minutes later, a Styrofoam container slammed onto my desk. I looked up at Roy, who towered over me, a plastic bag clutched in his fist. He glowered at me.

“Thanks, Roy,” I managed, opening the box. Sure enough, kebabs. I smiled up at him, but his eyes were scanning my desk.

“That your family?” He pointed at a frame that held a photo my family had taken during a camping trip.

“Oh, yeah. My folks and brothers. They live not far from here. We grew up huge Richmond fans.”

His eyes continued to roam my work area. “What, no pictures of your boyfriend? Is he fuckin’ ugly or somethin’?”

My cheeks heated up. “No boyfriend.” Somewhere inside me, boldness surged forward. “What about you? I don’t see your model of the week on your desk.”

He smirked. Ohmygod he smirked. “I’m too fucking old for that shit now.”

“Uh huh.” I couldn’t make myself say anything else. All I could see was that smirk, and those brown eyes. Until I realized he was waiting for me to say something. Speak, you idiot! “I like kebabs,” I blurted. Shit.

The smirk softened slightly. “So I heard.”

For a moment he just stood there, smiling down at me. Then he cleared his throat, glancing at the bag in his hand. “Don’t tell anyone I got you lunch. They’ll be trying to make me some fuckin’ errand boy if they find out.”

“Your secret’s safe with me.”

With a small hmmf, Roy nodded and headed back to his desk. I smiled down at the container on my desk and returned to my work, ignoring my burning cheeks.

~

“What does Jamie Tartt smell like?”

“Is the gaffer really like that in person?”

“Did you pass out when you met Roy Kent?”

Swallowing the bite of pasta I had been chewing on, I grinned at my family. “Tartt wears a homemade combo of Tom Ford, Dior, and Juicy Couture that he calls ‘Tartt by Tartt’. Coach Lasso is exactly what he seems. And Roy Kent…”  I cleared my throat and prayed my face wasn’t completely red. “He’s fine.” My voice cracked slightly. “We, uh share an office. He got me kebabs for lunch last week.”

“Come off it,” I scoffed. “Or else I’ll take back those VIP tickets I got you for your birthday.”

“Ooh, Roy Kent bought you kebabs?” my dad hummed, grinning at me pointedly. “My future son-in-law, the football superstar.”

Before my dad could retort, the doorbell rang. I jumped up, relieved to have a distraction.

“I’ve got it!” I just about sprinted down the hall to the front door, confident it was our elderly neighbor asking to borrow the spare key, as she did at least once a week. Instead, when I threw the door open, I found Roy Kent on my parents’ front porch.

“We should really put a fucking tracking device on you,” he grumbled as he moved past me into the entryway.

I stared at him, closing the door. “Um, not to be rude, but why are you here? At my mum and dad’s house?”

He shoved a manila envelope into my hands. “Some papers Lasso wanted you to work on if you can this weekend. Said it was important. I dunno, I don’t fucking listen to him when he yammers.”

“Oh.” I placed the envelope on a nearby table and folded my arms. “And how-how did you know where I was?”

Roy wiggled his phone in the air. “You’re one of those idiots that has their Snapchat locations on. You’re gonna get fucking murdered one of these days y’know.”

Right. Ted had made us all join multiple Snapchat groups with him; he was adamant about keeping our streaks.

I couldn’t help but grin. “And you’re gonna murder me?”

“Not today.” A small smirk cracked through that grizzled face. “But apparently if I wanted to, you’d be easy as hell to find.”

“I’ll just have to keep being a good officemate then,” I supposed teasingly. Am I flirting with Roy Kent?!

“You’re doing a fine job so far.” Roy took a step towards me, looking down at me.

Is he flirting back?!

My brain short-circuited. “Um, well I…” I coughed, looking around the entryway, as if I hadn’t walked through it my entire life. “Thanks for uh, bringing those papers.” A question interrupted the high-pitched buzzing in my brain. “Why’d you bring it by the way?”

Roy cleared his throat and took a step back, allowing a respectful space between us again. “Told you, Lasso said it’s important.”

“Yeah…” I started slowly. “But I’m sure it’s something you guys could’ve sent Will to do. Or something Ted would probably love to do, tracking me down to my dad’s birthday dinner. Why are you-?”

“He’s here! He’s there! He’s every-fucking-where! Roy Kent!” Beaming, my dad burst past me and clapped a hand on Roy’s shoulder as Roy stared at him with wide eyes. “Oh hell, Roy Kent’s in my foyer!” He turned and faced me. “I can’t believe you got Roy Kent to come down here! You’re my favorite kid, you can tell your bloody brothers that anytime.” He grabbed Roy’s hand and started pumping it, reminding me of the first time I had met Ted. “It’s an honor to have you here. Absolute honor.”

I finally found my voice. “Dad, Roy’s just here giving me some stuff for work. He’s not here for your-”

“What kind of cake do you have?” Roy’s gruff voice interrupted.

“Chocolate,” my dad answered. “M’wife made it herself. And we have plenty of pasta if you’re hungry.”

Roy unzipped his jacket. “Then happy fucking birthday. Let’s eat.”

~

A half hour later, I was still in a state of shock. Roy Kent was sitting next to me in my parents’ dining room, chatting with my dad and eating my mum’s pasta. He took all everyone’s questions in stride, not seeming to mind how obsessed my brothers were. He only growled at them twice- once when they asked about his knee, and again when they said how much they like Jamie Tartt. Of course, they made kissy faces whenever Roy wasn’t looking, and my mum kept raising her eyebrows at me with a twinkle in her eye, but the dinner was much less painful that I had expected.

And getting to sit there with Roy’s arm pressed against mine? A dream come true.

My dad cleared his throat as my brothers began clearing the plates. “I think it’s time for presents and cake then?”

I stood up; my arm felt cold after having Roy’s arm keeping it warm. “I’ll be right back, gotta go get your present.” I pressed a kiss on my dad’s head as I passed by. “Don’t embarrass me,” I hissed, giving his shoulder a squeeze. He offered me an assuring wink.

I quickly went up the stairs to my old bedroom, not completely closing the door behind me. Since I was planning to spend all weekend a their house, I had just haphazardly thrown all my things into the room when I had arrived after work. I regretted it now, noting that my idiot brothers could be saying anything to Roy while I searched for the envelope holding my dad’s birthday card and the tickets to Richmond’s next match.

I groaned. “Where the hell-”

“Ah, this isn’t the fucking loo.”

I whirled around. Roy stood in my doorway, eyebrows slightly raised as he glanced around the room. My cheeks burned as I watched him take in all the Richmond posters, which disproportionately featured his bearded face.

He is never going to talk to me again, a panicky voice in my head whimpered.

To my surprise, a small smirk formed on his face as he quietly closed the door behind him. “Why the fuck are there so many pictures of me in this room?” he asked, a chuckle escaping his lips.

I cleared my throat and stood up, straightening out my top as I cursed my teenage self for being so obsessed. “I, uh, I told you. My family’s huge Richmond fans. You’re kind of our favorite player. Hence, my dad’s excitement when he saw you.” I winced. Lame, lame, lame.

“So…” He stuck his hands in his pockets, still looking around the room at the embarrassing number of photos of himself. “Does that mean I’m your favorite too?”

Somehow, my cheeks grew warmer. “I… I mean… I guess.”

His eyes moved upward and widened slightly.

Fuck.

“Is that a fucking poster of me above your bed?”

I shifted my weight, wishing that somehow the carpet beneath me would spontaneously turn into a black hole. “Oh, you know, gotta keep the monsters away somehow.” You’re fired. You are so freaking fired for being a creepy fangirl.

Roy let out a bark of a laugh. “That’s what I’m good for? Scaring away fucking monsters?”

With a groan, I covered my face and collapsed on my bed. “Please don’t tell anyone,” I grumbled. “This was my room when I used to live here, I was a dumb kid. I swear to God, my flat is normal. A normal adult flat.”

The bed squeaked as I felt someone sit beside me. When I peeked out between my fingers, Roy was looking at me with a hint of concern on his face.

“Hey, no need to be fucking embarrassed.” He glanced up at the poster that now laid directly above us. “Can’t say I blame you. I was young and hot.”

Despite my inner anguish, I moved my hands and grinned. “You’re not that much older now, Kent,” I teased.

He raised his eyebrows at me. “I’m still hot then?”

Before I could come up with some clever retort, Roy cupped my face and leaned close. “Please say yes,” he said softly.

I gulped, knowing he could definitely feel it. “Yes,” I whispered.

He gently pressed his lips against mine, a soft, small kiss that made me melt closer to him. His beard tickled my face as his hand stroked my cheek. Roy Kent is kissing me Roy Kent is kissing me Roy Kent is kissing me.

When Roy let go, a tiny giggle escaped my lips. He smiled at me- a real smile, the one I had seen maybe a small handful of times on television over the years. He opened his mouth to say something-

“Oi!” A loud knock banged on the door. “Mum and Dad want to know if you’re snogging Roy Kent in there!”

Roy grinned at me, still holding my face. “Don’t suppose I can tell your brother to fuck off?”

I wrinkled my nose. “’d rather you didn’t,” I whispered.

“Well then.” Roy stood up, stretching out his hand to help me to my feet. “Guess we should go have some fucking cake.” He nodded up towards the poster above my bed. “You should bring that thing to work sometime. I can fucking autograph it if you want.”

[twistmusings]

hi! i’m so happy your requests are open! i love your blog :) i was wondering if you’d be comfortable writing how the dorm leaders would mourn for you if you died? i know that’s pretty angsty but angst is my favorite 💕 if you’re not comfortable with it, i totally understand! thanks either way!

Aw, thank you so much! I'm glad you've been enjoying it. I don't mind angst at all, though I may be a bit rusty, so hopefully this does it justice!

How would the Dorm Leaders mourn for MC if they died?

TW: Dark content, death, mourning, bad mental health and coping mechanisms, implied relationship but it could also be read as very intense friendship (just depends how you wanna view it!).

CW: Mentions of a major spoiler from book 6 in Idia's section. Please be careful of that and skip reading if you would like to avoid it!

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle is convinced he must have done something horrible in a past life. His life was supposed to be getting better, right? He was supposed to be moving past the things that happened in the past with his mom and his isolation and be making moves to improve himself, right? So why was someone so important to him taken away from him so soon?

At first he couldn't bring himself to believe it-- it had to be some cruel prank. Despite him having attended their service... there was no way that they were gone. It had to be a joke and someday he would wake up and they would be there and they would be smiling and say "Gotcha!" and he would be mad but they would still be here and he could learn to forgive them someday.

And then that had not happened. Trey had told him that he was worried about him-- about how little reaction he seemed to have. Chenya came to check on him every few days to try and drag him out of the house, but he said to him that something had changed with that worried look on his face. People were tip-toeing around him again, he could see it.

It might take several weeks, but when it finally hits him, he snaps. He starts crying-- loud and ugly and miserable. He's inconsolable, and even though he has people there to help, no one is ever going to be able to fix this. He can't stop the tears, and they come on so randomly. He can't quite bring himself to be as put together as he always has been-- his hair is an unbecoming mess and his clothes don't sit on him right and he's exhausted to the point that he can barely hold himself up.

He has people to help him work through it, and he's so gracious for their support, but it's still going to take him a long, long time to be even be "okay" again.

Leona Kingscholar

Leona's first thought when it happened was that he should have known. He should have known because his life had always been this way. Happiness had always been dangled just outside of his reach, and yet somehow he had hoped this time would be different. He'd let his guard down enough that this hurt, it felt like someone was tearing a hole in his chest and it feels like a piece of him is missing now. He's hollow on the inside.

He shouldn't get his hopes up, and so he doesn't. Anything he loves or values is snatched away from him, so it's in his best interest to just stop caring about anything. It's what he'd been doing for years-- and what he should have kept doing because he wasn't allowed to know contentment. Maybe if he had, they would still be here.

He's starting to wonder if they really would be-- maybe he was cursed by someone as a cub and he would have to watch the people around him that he cares about wither and turn to sand whether he uses his unique magic or not. It's ironic, really, because it feels like every time he tries to find any light at the end of the tunnel that it slips through his hands just like sand.

So he sleeps. And he doesn't get up anymore, not unless someone pulls him physically. He can't find it in himself to care anymore, it's exhausting to constantly be disappointed and grieving. He doesn't have the energy and he can't muster it anymore. His body feels weak, like the only thing that was holding him together was momentum and their loss was the last straw and he was finally going to fall apart. It's so much easier to just sleep.

And at least when he's asleep there's still a chance he will get a chance to escape to somewhere where he's still allowed to feel hope. And maybe, if he's lucky, he'll get to see them again.

Azul Ashengrotto

It's like someone has cut a limb off of him. There isn't a better way to describe it-- it feels like someone has taken one of his legs and now he's left there to look at the place where it used to be and to know that something is missing... except, unlike his own limbs, this one won't regrow. It can never, ever regrow.

For a while, he throws himself into his work. He needs to fill the void with something, at it feels like his job and the Leech twins are all he has left to try and mend. And even the Leech twins sometimes look at him like he's broken-- look at him with such pity in their eyes and it takes him right back to that pathetic, small octopus that he was as a child. It makes him feel helpless, so when he notices Floyd behaving because he's worried, he tells him off. Likewise for Jade, when he notices that he's shying away from giving him a hard time. He expects them to be on the top of their game.

On some level, he knows it's unfair. It's unfair to them to expect that he should just be okay to move on like this. Unfair to himself to not give himself the time to mourn, and unfair to Jade and Floyd because they were also close to them. But if things don't feel normal, then he's going to fall apart. He just might overblot, again, if he has to sit and wallow in it. He needs to feel some semblance of normal. He needs it. Please.

But that's not how it works. It's not normal, because he's trying to ignore it. He's trying to push off having to deal with it until he feels well enough to deal with it and it backfires horribly.

It overwhelms him, one day in the lounge. Floyd and Jade are in the back room with him and they're chatting with each other. Azul hasn't really been listening to them-- he's trying to crunch the opening predictions and he doesn't need to know what they're saying. At least, not until he hears Floyd say Shrimpy, and suddenly it feels like Azul's lungs are collapsing. It feels like he can't breathe-- like his potion is failing and he can't breathe the air on land anymore. His grip tightens on his pen and his desk, fingers flexing so tightly against the wood that they go white. He feels like the walls are collapsing in around him, and though he can see the way the tears splash against the papers and desktop below him, his brain can't quite connect that he's crying. He's started crying.

"Azul?" It's Jade, and something about hearing him address him snaps Azul out of the hole he feels like he's falling into and everything snaps back to the present around him. Jade has this worried look on his face, and he's apparently had his hand on his shoulder. Azul is confused and overwhelmed, and all at once it's too much. He feels the sob wrack his body painfully, and he hiccups. It's like he's a cup and he's overflowing. He must look pathetic. Floyd and Jade move quickly, one on either side, arms around him in a hug and there's something soothing about feeling small and safe knowing that despite all of their ribbing, they won't abandon him here when he's at his lowest. And they stay until he stops crying.

He's lost a limb and it's never coming back, so he's going to have to learn how it is to live without it. It will take work and time, but he will learn to live without it someday, though he will never forget it.

Kalim Al-Asim

For one of the first times in his life, Kalim feels entirely lost. Hopeless and adrift, and since all he knows is showing his heart on his sleeve, he cries hard and repeatedly. The only person who he really lets near him is Jamil, and that's only because Jamil is too obstinate to let him self-destruct.

He can't pull himself out of bed. He feels like he's been run through the wringer and he has been thinking about it non-stop since it happened and wondering why. They were so kind and fun and wonderful, he doesn't understand why it had to be them of everyone. They deserved better, and though he knows the universe doesn't work that way, he can only hope that they still exist somewhere and that they know that he does care. That he misses them, and that he hopes they can still have fun. He's not spiritual, nor is he religious, but the thought brings him comfort, so he clings to it.

Since he's really the only one who actually gives himself space to mourn, it might look like he gets over it quickly, but really he just reaches his equilibrium faster than anyone else because he isn't trying to stuff the feelings down. He will always, always miss them, but he can only hope that they know how much he cares and how much love he has for them in his heart.

And even if privately, he will hold out the hope that someday, in some form, he'll get to see them again.

Vil Schoenheit

Vil handles his mourning with silence, and with shutting people out. No one needs to know how he is feeling, he's not a spectacle, and it's none of their business how he's handling it. That might be well and good in the eyes of the public but... in private, people are worried about him. They can't see him cry, but they can see that he's tired. His normally perfect complexion is marred by the dark bags that are under his eyes. He does a good job of covering them up, but for the people who see him every day, they can see the difference.

It's not that they haven't tried to talk to him about it, but whenever they try, Vil's temper gets the better of him. He is fine, they need to act like it. At least... he will be fine someday, and he doesn't have time to dally and linger on it right now. He can deal with processing his emotions when it's more convenient.

It fails in about the most spectacular way that it could have. He's asked for an interview, and while he's not acting right now to finish out his education, he still needs to keep himself relevant so he accepts. He doesn't know how the interviewer found their name, but they ask about them. Ask how they're doing-- entirely unaware-- and it hits Vil like a train. It is so unbecoming to have a breakdown on camera and especially so on live television, but he can't seem to stop it before it happens since it happens so fast. Before he's even aware of it, he's started crying and his mascara is starting to run.

He handles it as gracefully as he can, apologizing profusely for his crying and phrasing in the most detached way possible that they are no longer among the living. He ends up needing to ask to be excused half way through the interview and leaves the stage with cheeks streaked with his makeup and shaking. Despite it all, he holds it together long enough to get to his dressing room before the dam breaks and he starts sobbing.

He still has a long way to go, but if there is any saving grace, it's that the people around him care about him and are patient with him. After the interview even Neige reaches out to make sure he's okay and offer his support, and though Vil is overwhelmed and miserable, at least he knows he still has people to go to if he needs.

Idia Shroud

Idia is no stranger to death. Their death wasn't so traumatic as Ortho's, he hadn't seen them get mauled, and he didn't feel responsible for it, and yet it still hurts so badly. They had managed to get him to lower his walls-- get him to let them in to see who he was despite of his fear of their judgement. They had so easily made themself at home in his heart and now there was nothing there to fill that gap. Idia has no desire to fill it-- no one else is worth the effort.

Somehow he expected something like this should happen. It was a sort of dread that always stuck with him-- maybe its trauma? Either way, Idia has a track record of losing everyone who is important to him, so why would he try? He should have learned his lesson the first time and he can't find himself to feel anything but disappointment to start. He'd always shown his grief strangely-- look at Ortho.

He doesn't try to make a replacement for them, though. Something tells him that isn't what they would have wanted him to do, and as much as he loves Ortho, he thinks trying to recreate them might be impossible. He'd know Ortho better than anyone, but they were always so unpredictable and seemed to know exactly how to push him to open up. Even if he tried to recreate that, he would fail-- even he doesn't know how they managed to earn his trust.

He doesn't cry. Not really. He's spent a lot of his life crying over the dead-- cried more times over Ortho than he can count, and eventually it just... stopped. He doesn't think he can cry from sadness anymore.

He ends up knowing that he is destined to be alone. He already knew that, actually, but this cements it. He's going to end up losing the people he cares about, and regardless he's going to end up having to care for STYX and the underworld, and that's all he's got going for him in life.

Malleus Draconia

Nothing anyone could have said could have prepared Malleus for the reality of death. And a young death, at that. Malleus cared about them so, so much, treasured their company and their opinions and seeing how quickly their life had been snuffed out was devastating to him. He wasn't able to bring himself to speak to anyone for several days after it happened. Instead he retreated into himself entirely.

He knew that the others were worried-- Lilia kept bringing him food and insisting that he eat to sustain himself, but he finds that he can't taste anything and really has no desire to. He's listless, and while Lilia and his other retainers keep coming to sit with him, he's having a hard time holding himself together and continuing to push on.

It marks a fundamental change in Malleus-- something inside of him morphs and becomes cold. He struggles to let people in again. And while he ends up warming up again to his fellow fae and SIlver, he finds it so, so hard to let another human in even if he wants to. They're so fragile and getting hurt and he doesn't know if he can take it again.

Especially not when the person that he lost was as special as they are.

[lemonradios]

>RED_Holiday pt2

Icarus watched Gage bark obscenities and bitter curses at Rig while he tapped the cooling coffee mug in his hands with his wedding band. None of this was right, this wasn’t anything like he pictured it would be when he found Radio again.

He thought somehow they could go back to the way they were before… Before he realized how much things really weren’t alright. “Gage, sit down, please… ” He told the Green sprite tiredly.

“ Icarus… ” Gage replied in a tone that carried a hint of hurt.

“ Just… Let him finish. I don’t think he meant to hurt us or even them, and while I agree with you that the lies and… How we all found out was… Not okay. Let’s just hear the rest of it at least.” Icarus was always the voice of reason, but he looked so tired, so worn and lacking in his usual air of strength.

Gage groaned although he accepted what Icarus said the only reason he complied and sat down was because he, too, was tired, and the fact Indie had been sobbing pitifully for the last hour had taken him down a few pegs. For as bitter a sprite as he was Gage really did not enjoy making his companions cry.

Rig, who stood in near the archway to the kitchen with his younger brother sitting behind him at his heels, had been quiet until Icarus spoke up. “I’m not trying to defend what I did. I shouldn’t have kept it a secret but I didn’t know how to tell you all either.” He started to explain, again, since he had been cut off so many times already he paused and expected another interruption. Thankfully Icarus reaching out to put a hand on Gage’s shoulder stopped him from ranting again about trust.

“I had been living in that game for years and I don’t even know how long it had been infected before I noticed. The virus that infected the game is a parasite, it doesn’t want to be found nor does it want to kill the hosts. ” As Rig continued he could see Gage growing more and more upset and even physically uncomfortable. “ The bugs grow inside the existing sprites, slowly replaceing their code so they learn the way their host acts. It’s an intentionally slow process to avoid detection. By the time I realized the game was infected the damage was too severe. Too much of the game had been replaced to be salvaged. I was only able to get most of the code for Nathan and the twins.“ Rig normally would be pacing and coming undone by this point but Agent had a firm hold on his brother’s leg.

“I honestly couldn’t… Couldn’t handle seeing them… You know… burst into monstrous bugs. S-So… I took their backups while Agent erased everything else. They didn’t know what hit them and… and I don’t think any of them suffered very long… Though I really can’t swear to that and the backups I sifted through to piece them back together were taken prior to everything so they don’t have to remember that… They’re about as alright as they could possibly be and they really didn’t want this to… You know, get ugly… Like it did.” Rig’s hands were trembling somewhat as he lit up another cigarette.

Agent poked his head out from behind Rig and slowly stood up. “I… Didn’t know… Don’t know…. I - I never.. Hmmm… I have been- Been in a… box… I don’t know - ahh… How not to Mmh, talk with… Others. I didn’t… Didn’t mean to say things- th- things that hurt. ” The hybrid spoke nervously and seemed to be genuinely apologetic. He didn’t understand why he had made everyone so upset, all his life he knew that things ate other things, naturally and consistently, he was only ever told that was bad by Rig. He was a powerful destructive hybrid that had very little experience in social situations.

“I guess I can’t hold that against you, Agent… But you, Rig… You still should have said something to us… To Radio at least. ” Icarus finally spoke again, he was rubbing his temples while he processed everything that Rig and Agent had said.

“ This… Parasite… Is there any way to remove it without a backup or destroying the host? ” Gage’s question came with an uncharacteristically nervous tone.

“I… Don’t think so… At least not that I know of. Believe me if I did I would have taken that route before considering the alternative. ” Rig could tell, everyone could tell, that the topic had Gage very unsettled.

Though they seemed to understand what Rig was saying, what he meant to do, no one seemed at all relieved. If anything they all seemed sadder.

“ I’m… So sorry, everyone. I’ll do everything possible to make sure nothing like that ever happens again… I… I swear if I ever found more of it I would tell you all before doing anything else. ” Rig tried to be reassuring but he wasn’t too sure how well that went over. He smiled at Icarus who nodded back at him before he stood up.

Icarus then pat Gage on the back and moved to where Indie was sniffling and lifted his scrawnier twin up to walk him back oit to the small get-together tbey were having for the holiday.

“Look into other ways of getting rid of that Parasite virus for us, alright? ” Gage asked as he stood up, patting the Hybrid’s arm on his way out the green racer actually stayed by the twins.

Rig watched them for a few moments, it was the first time they’d all been… Supportive of each other in so long it was a little shocking that they were all in agreement or at least on the same page for once. Agent tugged at his brother’s shirt and urged him away. “Come! Show me more the movie things, and… I want you to teach…. Better words.” Rig gently pat Agent on the head, knowing that he needed to tell them so many more things. every lie deeper he went seemed another nail in his perverbial coffin… “Hey, Guys?” Rig called into the living room and waited for Icarus to look up at him before he continued. “When is Radio supposed to be here?” Icarus shrugged, he hadn’t even thought about it since before Agent had made a big scene of eating the game Rig lived in. “He needed some last minute things for Christmas gifts so I assumed he’d be late.” “It’s… /really/ late now though…” Indy added, knowing that Radio didn’t like being out at night. “Maybe someone should go check on him?” Gage asked, unsure what Indy was implying. “Doesn’t he still have that big jerk of a virus husband? he’s probably just running late, I wouldn’t worry too much.” Icarus assured them all as he pat Indy on the back. Rig, however, was definitely worried…