#ZED WOULD BE SUCH A LOSER

[yacinthemorning]

A Lesson in Listening

Summary: Grian's brother is moving to town and staying with him while he house hunts. While introducing him to his friend, however, Jimmy and Tango seem to make quite a connection. Determined not to suffer through the pining, Grian and Impulse attempt to play matchmaker.

Ships: Grian & Impulse(Platonic), Jimmy/Tango (Romantic), ZITS (Platonic), Grian & Jimmy (Familial)

Warnings: mild acephobia, verbal fight, sibling bullying, misunderstandings, relationship meddling

If Grian was good at one thing, it was connecting people. Not to be a braggart, but he was a sociable sort who was good at reading people, made new friends with ease, and led the pecking order in his circles. It was his great talent, really. One of many.

“Humility not being among them, clearly.”

“Shush.” Grian hissed, whipping his head around to glare daggers into Impulse. The stout man returned it with his trademark innocent smile, as if Grian didn’t know what went on in the head behind it. “You’re distracting me.”

Impulse chuckled. “What’s there to distract from?”

“I’ll have you know mixing friend groups is a very delicate process!” Grian explained, holding his phone to show the opened notepad doc. “Inviting the wrong person could be the difference between success and disaster.”

“I think you’re overthinking things, G. Anyone who’d get along with you will probably get along with your brother.”

Therein lied the problem, though. Jimmy was nothing like Grian. Okay, well, nothing was a bit of a strong word. Jimmy was extroverted and sociable like Grian, and they both had a fondness for mischief and cats. And maybe Jimmy was the first person Grian always invited to karaoke night when he was in town, because no one else was quite as enthusiastic as they were. But other than that they were nothing alike! For one, unlike Grian, Jimmy was a massive loser.

“That’s a bit rude.”

Grian squawked. “Would you please stop reading my mind!”

“You should stop speaking your mind, then.” Impulse shrugged and returned to scrolling through his phone. Grian had assigned him the task of picking out the venue for the night out, being far more familiar with the town than Grian. He paused, “You might as well monologue, I know you want to.”

“I don’t monologue! I’m not Scar.” Another name was struck out on the list. Doc was angry at him right now, anyways. “I just want things to go well, can I not be excited that Tim is moving closer? I’ve barely got to see him more than once every other month for the past several years! By the way, we can’t-“

“Can’t eat red meat so make sure there’s other options, yeah, I know.” A large hand patted down on Grian’s head, ruffling his hair.

He pouted, falling back into the cushions of his couch. “I feel like you do not appreciate the skill needed to coordinate you people. It’s like herding cats, you know.”

“Why do you think we leave it to you?” Impulse leaned over Grian’s shoulder. “Who you got so far, anyways?”

“You, Scar, Gem, and Cleo. Mostly people he’s met before at least.”

A curious hum filled the air and Grian patiently waited for whatever idea was brewing in Impulse’s head. There were a few taps to his screen, then, “You think Tango can come?”

“Tango?” Grian’s eyebrow quirked up. “Isn’t he hauled up in his basement working on some game right now?” While most certainly a good friend, Tango was one Grian went almost just as long without seeing as his brother half a day’s drive away, despite being a street away. Once he had an idea he would dedicate himself to it until it was done.

Impulse sighed. “Yeah. Zed was able to get him outside for an hour last week, and he went on some business trip for a bit, but he also hasn’t eaten in like two days last I checked. It’d be good excuse to drag him out. He’s gonna forget what real people sound like outside his headphones if we don’t.”

“I honestly don’t know how he expects to survive if he moves out from you guys.”

“I already made him promise to give me a set of spare keys when he does.”

Grian tilted his head as he stared at his last message to the man in question. Something about a crazy idea for a remote-controlled cat toy he thought of. In all honesty it wasn’t the worst idea. Not the cat toy- Tango was a strong personality who left a big impression, but he was always polite. Certainly much more introverted than everyone else going, but not nearly as bad as Zed. At least, when he remembered to leave his basement. It couldn’t do them any harm. At the very worst he could sit in the corner and chatter with Impulse. “Yeah, sure, let’s invite him.” He said, already typing. 

Impulse gave a thumbs up. “Tell him we’re gonna go to that barbeque place he loves, that’ll get him.”

“I said-”

“They have plenty of chicken and even vegetarian options, I double checked. It’s right across from the bowling alley, too. And call him, don’t text, or he’ll never see it.”

It was a small miracle Tango agreed to go. It was a small miracle he answered his phone at all. The mention of barbeque worked, though. How much of the rest of the evening they could convince him to stick around for had yet to be seen, but Grian was hopeful he’d stay a little while at least.

Impulse could deal with Tango, though. Right now, Grian had his hands full with Jimmy. They were running ten minutes behind because his poor little brother couldn’t bear going a day without a bubble bath. “C’mon, Tim, get in the car!” He shouted from the window.

Jimmy stumbled in, nearly dropping his phone between the seats in the process. “I’m hurrying, I’m hurrying, I just had to send a text. I thought this was supposed to be fun?” He whined. The second his door was closed Grian began driving, not waiting for him to get his seatbelt in. He was so tall and lanky he’d just smash his head through the glass whether he had one on or not, anyways.

“It’s called punctuality, Timmy. Something the hosts should have!”

“Alright, I get it.” He slumped back into his seat, caving as he always did. It must be hard, having an older brother who was always right. Of course, it was much harder being said brother, as Grian could attest.

The car ride was quiet, only the radio filling the space while Grian worked to remember where he needed to go. Jimmy was the first to break the silence, “So, I’ve scheduled some tours for this week.”

Grian hummed. “Anything promising?”

“Actually yeah.” He chirped, pulling out his phone. Before he could shove it in Grian’s face he put his hand up. It’d only been a month since he rear-ended a Toyota, and he’ll be damned if he hit someone else. The last thing his friends needed was to reignite the jokes about him being too short to see over the dashboard. Jimmy made a whine but didn’t try again. “There’s a place not far out of town in the farmlands. It’s small and old, but it’s an actual house with over half an acre.”

“I dunno why you care so much about land. A condo downtown is way better.”

“It’s nice, isn’t it? I could have a garden.”

“I guess.” The obnoxiously large sign for the barbeque glared high above the trees and buildings around it just up ahead. “Oh, we’re already here. Should be mostly people you met before, by the way.”

“That’s fine.”

Pulling into the parking lot, Grian could already see Impulse’s minivan and Cleo’s beat up old car. He clicked his tongue as he pulled up next to them. “See! I told you we were late, everyone’s already here.”

“Oh, come off it, they probably just got here, it’s fine.”

It was not fine, the host should always be first, but he wouldn’t expect Jimmy to understand. The two squabbled all the way inside, only stopping to tell the waiter their booking. A nice large table on the patio already had most of Grian’s friends sitting around, still having yet to be served even drinks. Everyone but Tango despite his phone, unmistakable with its Guy Fieri case, on the table. Bathroom, maybe? He was always terrible about going before he left. Scar was the first to spot them. “G! Timmy! You’re here!”

“That we are.” Grian mumbled and turned to Impulse. “Where’s-”

“Hey, Grian, just in time!” The scratchy voice of Tango shouted too-loudly behind them. He saw Jimmy jump, and both brothers swivelled on their heels. Tango jolted back a bit, friendly wave shrinking to his side at the reaction. His eyes grew wide, locking with Jimmy’s which mirrored him like two deer caught in headlights. “Oh!” He squeaked unintentionally.

It jogged Jimmy out of his fright enough to look away, though Grian took suspicious note of the redness of his ears. He gave his baby brother a raised eyebrow, but he didn’t seem to see it.

“Right, well, Tango, Cleo, this is my brother, Ti-”

“It’s Jimmy.” Jimmy jumped in at lightning speed, holding his hand out for Tango to shake with a wide smile. “The name’s Jimmy.” Tango hesitated for a second, before tentatively shaking back with an equally tentative smile.

“Tango, of the Tek variety. Nice to finally meet you.”

“I thought you said your brother was Tim?” Cleo asked.

Impulse scratched at his bread. “Honestly, I thought it was.”

“It’s not, my name’s Jimmy. Don’t trust anything this man says, he’s a menace.” Jimmy huffed, which got far too enthusiastic an agreement from nearly the whole table for Grian’s liking. Behind him, Tango snuck around back to the table. In a baffling move, as far as Grian was concerned, he paused at the empty chair across from his own and pulled it out. He nodded towards Jimmy, who muttered a sheepish thanks. Grian narrowed his eyes at the engineer, but he seemed to be pointedly not looking at him. A shared look from Impulse, though, let him know he wasn’t the only one who took notice.

“Well, then, Jimmy, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” Cleo reached over the table, offering their hand.

Chatter very quickly picked itself up once they were all sat down. Most was directed towards Jimmy, asking what he did and the places he was looking at and how on earth did he get his hair that perfect. It was a bit awkward with him sitting at the end. Given the middle seat where Grian now sat was also empty, he suspected Tango’s little gentleman’s stunt had messed up the seating arrangement Impulse intentionally left. 

It wasn’t the last. When their drinks came Tango had ordered some crazy bright red fruity slushy monstrosity like he was on vacation or something. For him it might as well be. Something that brightly coloured, with a fruit skewer at that, was basically tempting the gods as far as Jimmy was concerned, who looked more dazzled by it than the already bright blue drink he ordered. Only a sip had been taken before Tango was nudging it towards him, asking, “Wanna try?” Which he wholeheartedly accepted.

Honestly, between that and the conversation somehow always managing to close into a back and forth between the pair, Grian wanted to gag. Did his brother have absolutely no shame? Or maybe Grian was just bitter he had to order something lighter as their driver. It was at least funny to watch Scar also ask for a sip and be completely ignored.

A large platter was ordered over individual meals. It was just easier, when everyone wanted to try this and that. Astonishingly, it was probably the first time Grian had witnessed Tango eat a vegetable, when he tried one of the skewers the brothers ordered on the side. That was the power of good barbeque, he supposed.

They finally called it after Gem won the third round of bowling in a row. Grian tapped against the open door of his car, glaring holes in the back of his brother’s head, who was too busy saying goodbye to Tango to notice. “Come ooon Tim!” He finally shouted after the third obnoxious little giggle they shared. When he turned, Grian narrowed his eyes. You ain’t subtle. The pair finally said goodbye for real, and Jimmy ran to get in the car before Grian decided to drive off without him. He’d barely gotten his seatbelt on before he was furiously typing something on his phone. Really?

“So, how was it?” Grian asked.

“It was fun, your friends seem cool.” Was the distracted response.

“Mhm…” He leaned closer over his shoulder. “And how was Tango?”

If it was possible to jump out of one’s skin then Jimmy had jumped out of his skin, muscles, and bones. “Huh?” He squeaked, face red and eyes bugged. Grian only returned it with an unimpressed eye roll.

“Oh please. You nearly dropped a bowling ball on your foot while swooning.”

“Well… He’s a cool guy, isn’t he?”

And that shut Grian up. More efficiently than he would like to admit. He expected Jimmy to deny it, or be too flustered to say much of anything. When Grian failed to reply Jimmy went back to his phone, tapping away with a smile. There was that obnoxious giggle again.

This was not one of the issues Grian anticipated having when his brother told him he was moving. 

“So, how do we set them up?”

Impulse Hummed, spending far too long reading the contents of a can of cream of mushroom like it wasn’t the same can he always bought. “Who?”

“ Who? ” Grian mocked back. “Tim and Tango!”

“Do we need to?” Three more cans joined the first, before they moved on to the broths. Grian threw the bouillon in the cart before his companion could grab a carton that would languish in the back of his fridge. “They seem to be doing fine on their own.”

“No, trust me. I know Tim. He was literally living with his last boyfriend before he realized they were dating and that he liked him. He’s an idiot.”

“And Tango hasn’t exactly been leaving the basement much lately.” Impulse conceded, grabbing a carton of pho broth anyways. Acceptable, Grian supposed.

“So, then, any ideas?”

They paused before entering the next aisle. The larger man’s face twisted in thought. “Well, we could invite him to D&D, run a oneshot, and have their characters drink a love potion until they get the hint.”

“That sounds like a terrible idea, absolutely not.” He wrote it down in his phone for a future session.

“Another dinner?”

“What are the odds of getting Tango out of the house twice?”

“Probably a lot higher than you’d think with how they were acting.”

“What if I gave Timmy a tour of your house and just locked the basement door behind him?”

“You know I’m starting to think we might be bad at this and should leave it to someone else.”

“Nonsense!” Grian grabbed the first bottle of soya sauce he spotted, much to Impulse’s protests. He wasn’t going to sit and wait for him to match the prices to the ounces. “Look, I know Timmy best, and you know Tango best. Logically, there’s no better pair of heads to crack together for this. They’ll thank us at the wedding.”

A jar of pickled bamboo shoots found its way into the cart beside the biggest bag of basmati rice Impulse could pick up. He had to catch his breath before he continued. “Listen, Grian, do you need to… talk, or something?”

“What?” Grian’s head whipped around from the wall of spices he was mulling over. “About what?”

Impulse hunched his shoulders up, cringing slightly. “I dunno, y’know… You’re planning your brother’s wedding to your friend while picking out my groceries for me. I’m not even sure how you found out I was grocery shopping or found me in the store. I don’t think that’s normal, healthy person behaviour.” 

“I am so completely normal and healthy!” He said just a bit too loud.

“You know you can talk to me if you need to.”

This was getting nowhere real fast. “Are you going to help me or not?”

Impulse sighed. “I’ll help.”

“Good. Then, what’s the plan?”

In the end, the plan was little more than ‘wait and see’ with a side sprinkling of putting the pair in as much direct contact as possible. This turned out to be much more work than they anticipated, however. Jimmy had always been a socialite, but he seemed to be gone every other day viewing houses or visiting locations. Meanwhile, Tango did as he does and made himself busy constantly. Every group activity Grian planned was lucky to get even one of them, and he was about to lose his damn mind.

Their big break finally showed itself one evening, when Jimmy dropped in with Grian. Well, it was more like Grian promised to drive him to do some errands and made a left turn away from the mall and directly to the ZITS house instead. A decision Jimmy was not familiar enough with the town yet to notice until it was too late. Just the sound of Jimmy’s voice managed to draw Tango upstairs to see what was going on in his kitchen, where the rest of them were chatting.

Immediately the annoying little giggles started up again. If there was one thing in this world that could make Grian try to keep them apart, it was that giggle.

“By the way, Jimmy,” Skizz piped up from where he leaned against the sink. “You still need a lift tomorrow?”

When had Jimmy found time to befriend Skizz? Who knows. Knowing the two of them they probably bumped into each other on the street and kept talking till the sun went down. Extroverts were so exhausting. (He ignored the little Impulse-ish voice nagging that Grian was also something of an extrovert.)

“Yeah, sorry, I appreciate it.”

“Where you going?” Impulse asked.

“Got another house tour.” Tango of all people replied. Maybe that wasn’t all that surprising, though, given the amount Grian has spotted Jimmy texting the past few days.

“Is that so? Will you be going with them?” Grian teased, but instead got a toothy grin back.

“Yessiree!”

Really? Inviting your crush house hunting? Was that forward or just weird? Either way, it was an opportunity. “You know, Tim, you haven’t invited me to go with you.” He whined, putting on his best puppy dog eyes. 

Unfortunately, while Jimmy’s talents were sparse, this was one area where he outranked Grian by a factor of magnitudes and had unlocked absolute immunity, or something. “Yeah. That was on purpose.” He said bluntly, not even looking away from Tango, who laughed. In fact, everyone laughed. Even Impulse, the traitor.

Grian wouldn’t give up so easily, however. “Well I think you should. So where is it?”

“What? You’ll just embarrass me, I’m not telling you!” He squeaked, finally looking at his kind, sweet, dear older brother.

“Yes, you are!”

“No, I’m not!”

And that was how Jimmy ended up in a headlock on ZITS’s kitchen floor, Impulse reluctantly using Jimmy’s phone to text Grian the address on his calendar. Tango, simp that he was, managed to distract Grian by jokingly calling Jimmy honey, forcing Grian to let go in order to pretend to hurl, during which time Jimmy made his escape back to the car. 

He won though, and the next day when Jimmy pulled up with Skizz and Tango to the house tour, Grian and Impulse were already waiting there with the realtor.

“I can’t believe you.” Jimmy dragged his hands down his face. “Don’t you have to, I don’t know, work?”

“Jokes on you, I’m my own boss.” Grian puffed up his chest.

Tango patted Jimmy on the back and turned the both of them towards the poor, confused realtor. “Let’s just get this over with.” He soothed, to which Jimmy gave him a saccharine smile.

The property was ridiculously nice. It wasn’t especially big, but it was lined by woodlands and already had a garden, albeit in need of some severe TLC. There was even an old chicken coop to the side of the house that only needed new fencing and cleaning. The house itself was a one-story cutesy cottage-like thing. It was older, but whomever had lived in it last had the wiring redone and appliances replaced. The bedroom was big, too, as they tended to be in these older houses, and the bathroom had a proper large tub. There was a spare office room with a nice big window to the garden. The garage was separate, and large enough to be a workshop. All that while being well within the range of good internet and still close enough one could walk to town if they really wanted to. 

It was, essentially, Jimmy’s dream home. The only issue Jimmy seemed to have was the fact that the wall between the living room and kitchen had been knocked out for a more modern open concept design with the largest windows in the house.

“It’d probably be a pain to heat in winter, right?” He asked no one in particular. 

Grian knew jack all about houses, and only shrugged. It still wasn’t that big, so he imagined not. Impulse and Skizz seemed to mull the idea over a little longer. Tango, though, saw an opportunity, and Grian had to give him credit because the man took it without hesitation. His arm was around Jimmy’s shoulder, toothy grin leaned in a bit too close. “Well, that sounds like a good excuse to cuddle up in bed all winter, hm?”

Jimmy’s cheeks turned pink. He muttered something under his breath that made Tango chuckle. Grian rolled his eyes towards Impulse, who seemed almost too shocked by his friend’s forwardness to notice.

More questions were asked, things Grian was glad he never had to worry about as a condo guy. Owning a home seemed like so much work, but Jimmy had lists upon lists. Of course, it was Jimmy, and even with lists he forgot certain things. But Tango seemed ready to pick up the slack with his own barrage of inquiries. 

“I think,” Jimmy said, looking at the kitchen with a bit of awe. “I think this might be it, guys.”

“Yeah?” Tango’s eyes practically sparkled with excitement. Jimmy nodded.

The realtor stepped up. “There aren’t any other serious inquiries at the moment, I think you have a good chance if you put in the asking price.” Jimmy nodded, and the realtor went off to his car to make a call.

Grian pursed his lips at his brother, though. “Are you sure you can afford that? I know you’ve saved up and all, but it’s still a lot.”

Jimmy beamed though, clearly overwhelmed with excitement. “Of course, you think we would look at houses we can’t afford?”

“I mean if I’m honest kind of, but- wait. We?”

“I’ll have you know, despite the beliefs of certain individuals, my credit score’s top notch.” Tango patted his chest proudly. “And between the two of us we have more than enough savings for the down payment.”

Grian felt the wires in his brain short circuit and reboot. An unholy screech came from his throat. “What!”

Jimmy and Tango both side-eyed each other, their awkward smiles caught between guilty and like they were ready to burst out laughing. “You… Thought I could buy a home on my own?” Jimmy asked, hiccupping in the middle.

Impulse looked just as dumbfounded. “When did you work this out?” His voice came out hoarse.

It was Tango’s turn to be confused, raising an eyebrow. “Um, months ago? I told you, Impy.”

“You said you were thinking about moving out, not buying a house with a stranger!”

“Wait-” Skizz burst out laughing, pointing at Grian and Impulse. “You guys really didn’t know?”

“No, why do you know!”

“Cause I listen to my roommates?”

“Hold on. Months ago?” Grian pushed them out of the way, getting into his brother’s face.

It seemed Tango was no longer able to hold in his laughter, leaning on Jimmy for support while Jimmy rubbed the back of his neck. “I honestly couldn’t tell if you’d actually forgotten or if this was some bit.” He admitted.

“We’ve been together for almost three years.” Tango wheezed out between cackles.

“Excuse me?” Balked Grian. “Since when? You’ve never met!” His head whipped between the two. How on earth-

A finger twirled absently in the air as Jimmy tried to explain. “Do you remember your Halloween party? The one me and Joel attended, where Tango was dressed up as an imposter?”

“Yeah?” It was the biggest party he’d ever held, how could he forget? His brow creased. “But that doesn’t make any sense, I never got to introduce you two cause you both went… home… early.” Grian’s eyes went wide as the puzzle pieces clicked into place.

Tango leaned against Jimmy’s shoulder with a smirk. “There it is.”

“Oh. My god.”

“I told you he doesn’t ever listen to me.” Jimmy groaned.

“You two-”

“Yeah.”

Grian gasp cracked. “Jimmy you slut !”

“ Excuse me? ” Jimmy shouted back in equal amounts of disbelief and anger.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw the realtor pause in the entryway, then slowly back out of view once more.

“You heard me!”

“What do you think we did!”

“Well you weren’t enjoying my party, that’s for sure!”

 “Okay, okay, everybody calm down.” Skizz stepped in, pushing Grian towards Impulse, who seemed to hold Grian back on instinct more than anything as he was still lost in shock.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Impulse asked, giving his housemate a look of betrayal. It was returned with concern.

“I did? I swear I did.”

“Dipple Dop, he told us he was busy in call with his partner all the time. He extended his work trips several times.”

“That was Timmy?” He stumbled back, leaning on the counter. “I thought he meant, like, an MMO buddy.”

“Yeah, and you certainly never told me!” Grian huffed, which Jimmy returned.

“I did tell you, but you didn’t listen! Or did you just do that thing like with Scott where you thought I wasn’t aware I was dating the guy I lived with for two months just because I told you we hadn’t-”

“You know what?” Skizz clapped his hands together. “I think we all need to just take a deep breath, okay? Everybody just breathe. In,” He took a deep breath, of which his housemates joined in while the brothers continued to glare at each other. “And out.” They all let out a long sigh.

 A brief silence fell over the group, only interrupted by a nervous knock at the door. The realtor stuck his head in, eyes darting between the group. “Um, Mister Solidarity, Mister Tek, could I speak to you now?”

“Yes, one second.” Jimmy said, voice tight. The pair left to talk outside.

Grian and Impulse went home after that, waiting for the other three to return. They said little, Grian fuming while Impulse stared at his lap like his dog just died. Zed popped in to say he was going out, at which point he was let in on the day’s events and gave them both odd looks. Had they really been the only ones who didn’t know? 

By the time everyone else arrived back at the house they’d pulled themselves together somewhat. Not entirely, but enough to ask questions without shouting.

“So, you’re really leaving?” Impulse asked, voice almost watery. Tango’s posture softened with his smile, and pulled the larger man into a big hug.

“Oh, buddy, I told you I was gonna. I’m a big boy now!”

“Yeah, but… I dunno. We’ve lived together since college. I didn’t think this would actually happen…”

Skizz rubbed his back. “Hey, he ain’t movin’ cross country, he’s just down the road. We’ll see him all the time.”

“Yeah! I promise, Impy, I ain’t going nowhere.”

The three continued to talk among each other, comforting their friend, so Grian left them be. Instead, he turned his attention onto Jimmy, who still looked huffy, with his arms crossed and a glare squarely on Grian.

“I told you.”

“Well, maybe you should have told me better.” Grian turned his nose up as an almost automatic response. Jimmy threw his arms in the air and stomped off to the doorway, and immediately Grian felt the regret. He chased after his little brother. “Wait, Tim. I’m…” A warbled wheeze escaped his throat, straining to get the dreaded word out. “Ssso-…rry... That I didn’t listen.”

The shift was near-instant, disdain laxing into smugness. “There, was that so hard?”

“Immensely.”

“Oh, come off it, you big baby.”

“I just don’t get it.” Grian grabbed his hair. “How did I miss that you two were dating? Why didn’t Tango say something when we invited him to dinner?”

“Well, it probably started with the fact that you introduce me to everyone as Tim and his boyfriend’s name is Jimmy.” He sneered, eyebrow raised.

Well, he had him there. Not that he would ever admit that to his brother’s face. “I still can’t believe you ditched my party to hook up with my friend.”

“Oh my god, we didn’t hook up!” Jimmy threw his head back. “We just went to get Mcdonald’s and watch movies because Tango almost had a panic attack at the number of people you invited and couldn’t breathe.”

“In my defence, I didn’t expect that many people to actually show up.”

“Either way, stop projecting.”

“Wh- excuse me?”

“Tango’s the same as me. I can assure you nothing like that would ever happen.”

Grian pouted. Well, at least they were happy and close by. “Fine, I’ll forgive you if you can get Tango to come to roller derby night.”

“Uh, I don’t have anything I need to be forgiven for, and I’m not going to make Tango do something he doesn’t want to do.”

“But Tim, consider: Tango falling on his butt in the most hideous disco suit.”

That gave Jimmy pause, thinking for a solid moment before a smile stretched behind his hand. “Alright, fine.”

“Yes!” Grian pumped his fist into the air, nearly smacking Impulse in the face as the group joined them.

“What’s going on out here?”

“Nothing.” Both brothers replied, matching smiles immediately getting them suspicious looks. Jimmy pushed past them to grab Tango’s hand and drag him towards the basement. “C’mon, we have to finish planning.”

“Yessir.” Tango saluted with a chuckle. 

As they retreated, Grian shouted after them. “Oh, Tango!”

“Yeah?” Bless his soul, he was too busy giving his partner a doofy look that was wiped away the second he turned to see Grian. He did his best to bore a hole through the man’s skull.

“You better watch your back. I know where you sleep.”

“Well, I’d hope so.” Grian didn’t like that grin. “Be weird if you didn’t know where your brother was.”

And that was how Grian began to plan the death of Tango Tek.

[lucksdraw]

heyy all ♥ name's lola, here presenting 1/2 of the #601 unit, kim minhyun — probably the worst person to be against when you're playing dodgeball because you will lose, but also someone with an extremely... well. non-flashy, boring power. i haven't been present for the original run of astonish but i've heard only good stuff about it so i am beyond excited to be here. you can read his profile here and a general background here, under the cut i will present more of trivia ♥

his power... basically this whole video. "luck is not a superpower" and doesn't really get you on the front-line of superism rankings, so he's just minding his business trying to survive in a world of heroes and villains. at least when the city is falling apart a-la avengers style, he's gonna come out unscathed? but overall, couldn't really give less about it all, or the glitz and glamour that comes with being a hero. sometimes will even cheer on a villain :/ also aeternal training academies are LAME!

a bit bitter, when you take all things into consideration. like, he could have been spitting fire or having a pair of wings he can fly with, but he's stuck with just being lucky? some people don't even believe him when he says it.... damn... also a bit guilt ridden but that's level 10 friendship unlock x

despite his lucky powers, his whole life is unlucky. as seen in the background preview, not the best upbringing, rough childhood, mild #mommy_issues

on other hand, thanks to his lucky powers, he's very chilled out, laid back, carefree, doesn't care, etcetera; he knows that things will work out for him one way or another. says he doesn't care about others either and is flying solo, but as much as he says he doesn't care, he will end up helping, regardless of how messy of a situation you've got yourself in? you two just met but you need a place to stay at for whatever reason? well. come over ig...

not opposed to doing some illegal stuff. the depth of this will remain redacted for his own good

like sure, he's never gotten the best grades or anything... but if he wanted to, he could take his chance at the slot machine and hit the #jackpot. but it would probably get #cancelled, since he is a registered metahuman after all

works as a snacks attendant @ gg. spends time after shift gaming until his eyes are red. plays league like, #religiously, has an edgy u/n; something like... HER VOICE RESIDES (who gets the reference? mwah..) and plays smth edgy like kayn or zed. GM rank... the whole world is falling apart outside but he's still gaming and climbing the ranks #grind_never_stops

also... does not know anything about any thefts at all. will know if you lend him some money though wink wink!

he's consented to be prodded and to sharing his biomedical data <3 everything for cheaper rent

most of the complaints about him are regarding loud music (he makes up for like 60% of simon dominic's streams) , noises past midnight, or breaking into the building (because he forgot his keys!!), or he's asked someone for some coins so he can wash his clothes @ the laundromat for like the tenth time in row. also, if he's not at work you can almost always see him moping around the building complex and he's recognized by wearing his iconic "fish love me women fear me", "my tummy hurts", "human by chance alpha by choice" and shirts alike. no, he will not reveal where he gets them. it's his personal gold mine

probably biggest fan of minions alive. would adopt a minion if they were real. like, holy shit he loves minions.

depending on who asks, down for some sprinkle sprinkle brownies x

for plot bunnies... given minhyun's character, literally anything goes. he's a bit of a #loser so not too much on romantic aspect... but friends, enemies (different opinions re: aeternals/the academy/blockers), someone who's caught him breaking into a store and is blackmailing!!, fellow gamers, they're party animals together or partners in crime,,. literally anything goes lets brainstorm in ims!!!

anyway. minhyun tweets!!!

[viadangelo]

WB 🔥 INSPIRED MEME — a collection of prompts. V1.

subject to edits; thank you everyone for your inputs; submit to add lmao

dialogue starters ;

"listen..."

"i know i must be the last person you expected to see tonight,"

"i know you have no reason to believe me, much less to trust me, but... i promise you. i swear to you, i am being set up."

“please, don’t lie to me.”

"you know, you'd make a nice profit if you turned this place into a safehouse."

"you must think me an idiot,"

"it's a bit late to worry about dragging me into your mess, don't you think? "

"somehow it's become rare to meet people outside of a coffee shop, or bar, you know?"

"this was not a dog food orgasm"

“dude, are you crazy? I almost shot you!”

"in my head [ x ] takes out his dick once every solstice"

"a nipple for a nipple."

"if you were a cop, you'd tell me, right?"

“It’s just a knife, why are you acting like this?”

"knives, or guns, hypothetically, of course."

"if i was gonna die, i'd have picked [ x ], it's more direct."

"fighting fire with fire, you're only going to get burnt, y'know."

"fuck that, shit needs to change."

"answer me!"

"time’s up! "

“why are you looking at me like that? grab the damn shovel or go!”

“Fuck, put the gun down, okay? I didn’t mean to freak you out!”

scenarios:

send 🚑 to find my muse after they have been stabbed. Alternatively send 🔪 to be the one who stabbed them, eager to finish the job. Or maybe it was an accident, who knows?

Send 📕 to throw a book at my muse.

send [ TRAPPED ] to have our muses get trapped in an elevator together.

send 📞 for one of our muses to have dialled the wrong number, and ended up on call to the other.

Send 🚨 to arrest my muse, or if not applicable, witness an arrest, or be arrested etc.

send [ NO ] & a request to have your muse ask of mine, knowing they wouldn't like it.

send [ YES ] & a request, for my muse to do a favour for your muse, or vice versa.

✊ for our muses to play rock paper scissors, the loser owes the winner a favour.

headcanons:

🎬 for my muse's favourite movie.

💎 for my muse's favourite spot in new york

❇️ for what my younger muse's self would think of themselves now.

🎼for a song on my character's playlist

how does your muse apologise, do they apologise?

❤️ their love language(s)?

does your muse attend church, or mass? are they religious?

the best prank they’ve ever pulled.

their weapon in a zombie apocalypse.

if they ever wrote an autobiography or a diary what would the last line be?

💓 what gets their heart racing?

🏝️ for who they would pick to be stranded on a desert island with

🍖 their mortal enemy, and why.

🔥do they have any self destructive tendencies? what habits do they have that hinder them from becoming their best self?

send !! for what character unnerves my character the most.

burnies funss:

send a ⭐ and my muse will answer if they would fuck, marry, or kill yours.  ( feel free to replace fuck with kiss if it's not appropriate! )

send a 📸 to see my muses favourite photo of yours

Send 👏 for my muse to deliver a harsh truth to your muse, or, deliver one about mine.

Send 🎣 for my muse’s best pickup line they would use on yours

Send 💥 + a topic for my muse to start an argument with yours based on your submission

Send 📰 for a newspaper headline my muse would be involved in, or write one about my muse.

send 👀 for an honest answer from my muse.

send ⚖️ for three qualities my muse loves about yours

ideas taken, or inspired by ; @phantasmalatelier , @soulscollection , @neorph . @rpsourcedmemes , @charmymemes

ask: via, zed or emilio.

[lady-of-the-puddle]

Welcome Back

Today I will be rating Beck's

Potential Partners?

The question mark is because some of them were definitely his partners, others will not admit it, and some came to...circumstances preventing a declaration of their love...anyway.

1. Bodhi

Literally on screen for 30 seconds max

We all clocked that shit instantly

Never brought him up again (thx to retroactive backstory oops)

Beck was actually visibly sad about him tho to the point his boss/dad had to ask if he was ok

Absolute cute couple though

8/10 I knew him for five seconds and now I have to kill everyone in this room and then myself

2. Paige

Y'all already know. Everyone knows. The whole grid knows.

The sexual tension is palpable

Which brings me to some difficult questions about the nature of programs and what physical functions they may or may not have.

Ugh I'm a sucker for the rivals to lovers thing tho

12/10 top ten hottest bi power couple if they don't kill each other first

3. Tron

I went over this in my tron's exes list but I must reiterate cause reasons

Can you imagine meeting your hero, your icon, your savior and he's....a bit of a bitch??

But you learn and get to know him and he opens up to you and comes to trust you with his life UGH my heart

9/10 I rated this 7/10 before but I'm not scared anymore they're GOOD

4. Cyrus

Look, he gets in with his bffs and the first thing they say to Beck is "you didn't tell us you had a new bf!" (Totally NOT paraphrasing that).

The fucked up stalker/victim pairing is SUCH good tea

And then he tries to kill him later? Delicious.

7/10 this one's for the toxicity 😏

5. Lux (I had to look up her name)

okay this one loses points because they WANTED me to ship this when we already knew Paige existed

I don't like to be told what to do

I mean, it's ok Beck has two hands(more like eight at this point) I can work with it

loved her jaded perspective turning into hope before she was fridged for male pai- I mean derezzed for reasons relevant to the plot 👀 that was definitely neat

Consider: she is pretty though

4/10 they're both a ten but I'm a bitter bitch so sue me

6. Mara

tbh she's such a cutie and deserves way better than whatever incel shit Zed has going on

no wonder she's in love with Tron/the Renegade (I mean, same) I would beg a superhero to save me from him too

she and Beck have such a good dynamic

would be such a cute friends to lovers pair

can you imagine if she found out her bestie was the renegade she's been visibly/audibly thirsting after? Queen shit.

8/10 This one is actually the least toxic here

7. The rebellion leader whose name escapes me (it's Bartik)

so this guy appears in legacy as the rebel leader at Castor's before getting derezzed five minutes later (shocker there)

this one just kinda leaped into my brain when I binged the show directly after watching Legacy

can you imagine inspiring someone to change sides completely and then become the leader of the very fire you sparked long after you're probably gone? Endlessly romantic.

6/10 I have yet to have a really bad ship tbh

8. Pavel

I hate it, you hate it, we all hate it

But it's still pretty hot

8/10 bitch on bitch violence

9. Zed

Ahaha I hate it

he's way too comfortable with the evil bad guy shit happening around him.

honestly I have no idea why Beck is even friends with him

HOWEVER

jock/loser pairing

Beck CAN AND WILL fix him

3/10 I don't think we can save this one boys

BONUS ROUND:

10. Tesler

LMAO I just thought of this

Why do I love it tho

Something about the Darkseid omega beam hands that make me think weird thoughts

Now I wish I had put this on my tron list

1/10 or 9/10 depending on the day

I really do love that Beck is just the most specialest boy, he's the grid's next top model, he's batman, he's everything. Istg this is a harem anime in disguise and I ship him with everyone.

I can think of at least two programs off the top of my head that I didn't include because I forgot until now, so tell me about your rare pairs, etc. I was thinking about rating Clu's crushes that he handles in a completely normal way next but that might be too much. This is what happens when we have no new content for 10 years.

[no-shxme]

just read The Burning, i am JITTERING OUGH IT WAS SO GOOD NOT ONLY IS IT RHAAYN IT IS HEARTSTEEL THE COLLECTION OF MY FAVORITE HIMBOS EVER

THE BITTERNESS?????? THE "get in loser we're going shopping"??????? THE RHAAYN???????? TOP TIER ABSOLUTELY FANTASTIC

THE COMPLICATED DAD ZED HAS ME SOBBING THAT HAS HANDS AND I WILL NOT HAVE IT ANY OTHER WAY

i love your fic recommendations you found my EXACT taste we have reached the point where im stimming so hard i have difficulty scrolling i am THAT excited to read and enjoying it that much

also the way you left it hanging?????? so that there could be a sequel but also it could just end there and be just fine??????? OUGH THAT IS PERFECTION THAT IS A BALANCE THAT'S SUPER HARD TO STRIKE AND YOU NAILED IT I LOVE IT SO MUCH

"if you were put in there, there has to be a way to get you out." "you would free me?" OUGHGJHBAVGJKEAHUIAOI;PKDJHVYUIOEAPWJGTYUHJNIUJI AM IN SHAMBLES OH MY G O D

i am DEVOURING your writing holy shit it is so good i love it sm you are AMAZING

also, if you thought out what rhaast said as kayn fell asleep, what was it? just curious, i love them so much 👉👈🥺

EYYYY im pretty happy with how the burning turned out and im glad you like my recommendations. unfortunately i dont thiiinkk i have more rhaayn ones? (maybe ravenous, but thats just an experimental drabble so idk if you'd like it much) but once again if you ever get into talon (or sett), i'll have lots of (very angsty) recs there.

thanks for all of the compliments. ;W; you're too nice and thank you for reading and leaving asks i get super excited every time.

and i dont have exactly what he said at the end but rhaast would have said something to the effect of 'friends....' like he's a lil taken aback and wowed. (in a good way.) i think rhaast isn't as harsh in this au, and (as a lil spoiler for the sequel) he's what's known as the dark version of a muse. Also i said this on twitter but kayn found him at a yard sale lol.

[colafanaticism]

Highlights from the trip to Norway, so far.

M: Is that Tord?"

T: No, but get in losers, we're getting the real one.

["Ain't it fun" by Paramore begins]

Clord: This feels pointed.

T: Fuck you.

M: Oh, it's most definitely pointed.

M: Can I keep him?? (Clord) there's something deeply wrong with him, and I love it.

T: Fine, but you're feeding and taking care of him.

Clord: I'm not a dog.

T: Alright, I'm putting the car in Zed gear.

Matt; shut it.

And would someone please put the gag back on Clord?

M: Sorry, Clord..

[kantraels]

making fun of rite just isn't rewarding. he's heard it all and he doesn't care and if he wants to he could effortlessly shut me down and make me look like the loser in the interaction. he had years of etiquette training and then was an enforcer and THEN clawed his way up to locker room leader of the psyker barracks. i think he could talk back to rannick if he really wanted to, but he wouldn't, because he's got his priorities straight.

i obviously can't be mean to zed because it's a kid but at the same time it would give one warning ("stop") before immediately and ruthlessly throwing hands. one person is leaving the situation not a bloody smear on the floor. it wouldn't be me.

bullying kal is easy and fun. he's depressed. he's protective. he's mean. he'll get angry when someone he cares about is threatened or injured because his ability to feel compassion has tangled up inextricably with rage. he drinks way too much. he's a manlet. he's so bad at self care that he has to be walked to his bunk at least twice a week and passes out in the chapel. despite it all he's loyal to the bone and pretends that being a mean bastard about it means he isn't also a pushover

[umbane]

Oof, that was a doozy of a question, wasn't it? Er, but an important one, of course! Our glorious emperor has been deliberating a while, so the contestants must have impressed him. But, our third episode of 𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐋 𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐑 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐎𝐑 is drawing to a close at last!

Among all the, err... creative entries for today's, there can, unfortunately, be only one loser. Tonight's eliminated contestant is @ionianwanderer, though I thought your answer was the most creative! ... Not that I would ever question the emperor, of course!

Kayn's feedback for you is:

❝ Acting like a fool is a self-fulfilling prophecy. If you appear weak even once, there's a target on your back. Not that I would know. ❞

To our remaining contestants, sleep well tonight, and we'll see you again tomorrow morning! May the emperor be ever in your favour!

Scoreboard:

AHRI +10 (30), EZREAL +7 (23), EVELYNN +10 (30), MORGANA +5 (20) APHELIOS +10 (29), YASUO +7 (17), IRELIA +7 (24), ZED +10 (27), TALON +7 (22), LEE SIN +10 (30)

[yposht]

Me and my friend in a nutshell

Hello?

Hello?

Who’s this?

Who’s this? I’m asking the questions, I called you. No, I called you, and you sound like the ugliest son of a bitch I ever heard. You sound like the physical manifestation of some loser’s inner demons! Well, you sound like some total chode’s inability to confront the reality of his past actions. If I ever get your stinky mug in my line of sight I swear to jack off I’ll cock your clock off. Well I’m gonna be the bigger man, and hang up first- ugh dammit! Listen, we don’t cotton to freaks round these parts, scram wierdo! Oh yeah, I don’t polycotton to coping tropes, even my own. So why don’t you split? Looks like I already did. You’re the sad figment of my twisted psyche’s tragic dividend. You’re the un-me. I’m the real me! You wanna be? Me? Kiddo, I was the real me when you were still in my short pants. Hate to break it to ya, but I wore them first. Me bequeathed thee, the psychopathological hand-you-downs. So you’re the one who stained them? Whoever found it, browned it. You’d like me to be you, wouldn’t me? But it’s too late,

you snoze, you lose.

You sleeped, you weeped.

You nappa, You get slappa!

You slumber, a cucumber.

You catch up on some Zed’s, you get out of my heads!

You slumber, ham- BURGER I DON’T WANNA TALK BOUT NOTHIN ELSE!

Listen, this psyche is not big enough for two metaphysical seekers. You couldn’t seek your way out of a cardboard bag! Yeah, I know, cause it would be an egg! OOH! This guy might be better than me- You’re right! I am better than me! Look buddy, know when you defeated. Accept your defecation. No thanks, I’m full, cause I eat pussies like you for breakfast! Look at you, you look so superficial, you probably judge things by their physical appearance. Oh yeah? Your mom’s so shallow, she probably thinks this quip is about her. You’re about as deep as a bowl of soup, and your tongue is about as sharp as a soup spoon! Hey! Say what you want about me, but lay off the soup. If you love soup so much, why don’t you marry soup? Because I’m already married, to justice. Yeah, only a blind girl would marry you. I know everything you’re gonna- Say, and I know everything you’re gonna- Don’t. Oh yeah? Well when God was passing out insight, you thought he said that when God was passing out holy prophets, you thought he said oily faucets, cause your soul has diarrhoea, of the mouth, faucet! Are you so dumb, you’d even answer rhetorical questions? I don’t know? Do you? We can play this game all night. First of all, it’s daytime! And this is no game. Checkmate! Oh! So you admit that you’re checking me out, and you want to mate! You got a license to sell hot-dogs, Chico man? No, they wouldn’t give it to me, because, when I was filling out the application, my penis was sticking out! Oh yeah! You only got one peni? Let me see it… See with your eyes, not with your mouth! I’ll call your bluff, I’ll see your penis with your mouth, and I raise you, with my hand. Ante up! OoOh! Dammit! What’s wrong? I crapped out, but I’m tough, I can suck it up. Huoourgh! Ok! Count of three, we show what’s under the loincloth! Weiner, take all!

1, 2, 3!

[sarasa-cat]

Sometime this morning I was being amused by some arts and tech fluff piece in the NYT about how elder Gen Z are into distorted, wonky, unstaged selfies for Instagram— and this involves using the wide angle back camera on a phone so you cannot see the photo as you are taking it and some of them purposefully don’t even look at the photo til later leaving it as a lolsnort surprise. The whole point is to be stupid and contagious (oops wrong Gen) purposefully messy and anti-Instagram perfection.

And the comments on the article were all from older ppl — boomers I assume (bc I recognized some of the commenters handles and know something about some of them) and it was all WHAT THE FUCK ARE WRONG WITH KIDS THESE DAYS NO WONDer ThE WoRlD is In tHE ToILEt. Rrrgggg dumb kids so lazy and stupid!!!

(And contagious).

Anyhow I already knew about this from a few years back (why do I know these trends? Idk?) and when I first noted it I thought —

Okay, hold on here, bc I need to address all my millennial gen friends bc I really do love you so much and have since you all started coming of age and entering my adult (lol university) friends circle — I do have a bunch of my literal best friends in the millennial gen especially in that Xennial crew but also younger than that too —

I thought a few years ago— omfg thank god the gen Zeds (or Zees) are growing up to the point they have an effect on culture bc they (unsurprisingly!) remind me SO MUCH OF GEN X But with modern tech and late 20teens / early 2020s problems.

The humor in gen Z is totally a revamp of gen X humor. Which makes sense. gen Z are technically gen X’s kids.

Ppl can argue whether generation theory in sociology is bullshit or has something to say. Idk. I’m on the fence. But I do see societal swings of certain sorts: like, millennials were boomers revamped in many ways, which made gen X roll our eyes. What-ever.

I’m sure gen x was actually some sort of weird console video game playing revamp of (what the fuck came before boomers? Uh…)

Uhhh wikipedia?

The silent generation. Omfg they were named the SILENT generation in america. Shit you not. The leadership of the civil rights movement and the so called silent majority. From 1951 article in Time magazine:

“The most startling fact about the younger generation is its silence. With some rare exceptions, youth is nowhere near the rostrum. By comparison with the Flaming Youth of their fathers & mothers, today's younger generation is a still, small flame. It does not issue manifestoes, make speeches or carry posters. It has been called the "Silent Generation."”

Yeah, bc the parents of the boomers who came b4 them were called The Greatest Generation lol.

Seriously- that is what the press said about Gen X in the 90s- they are losers and slackers and blah blah blah do nothing lay abouts. Yeah, whatever. And then millennials came along and they were the Golden Children who would do everything right. Whatever.

So I am not surprised boomers are shitting on Gen Z while Gen X are eye rolling.

Anyhow- we need more messy shit and less of this staged aesthetic ffs. Yeah, even if messy is an aesthetic.

I just want to have less freaking expectations about the damn professional look that millennials created for women bc it is too time consuming and so entirely not my jam and I was SO PISSED OFF when it became an Expectation(tm).

(Don’t worry millennials- ur still many of my besties. 🌟)

——

Edited to add: despite my earlier post today about the news making me feel stupider, this made me smirk 😏- it’s the real news in america that is just fucking fuck)

[incorrectsmashbrosquotes]

An example of Pyra and Mythra in a fight

Mythra: You sound like the physical manifestation of some loser’s inner demons.

Pyra: Well, you sound like a total dork’s inability to confront the reality of her past actions.

Mythra: If i ever get your ugly mug in my line of sight, I swear that I’ll knock your block off.

Pyra: Well, I’m going to be the bigger, and stronger and more well liked, blade and stop talking first.

Mythra: ….

Pyra: ….

Pyra: Damn it, I didn’t think you’d stop.

Mythra: (~˘▾˘)~

Pyra: Zip it.

Mythra: Listen, I don’t cotton to punks round these parts. Get lost, weirdo!

Pyra: Oh yeah? I don’t polycotton to coping tropes, even my own. So why don’t you split?

Mythra: Looks like I already did. You’re the sad figment of my twisted psyche’s tragic backstory. You’re the un-me, I’m the real me, you wannabe.

Pyra: Me? Kiddo, I was the real me when you were still in my shorts.

Mythra: Hate to break it to you, but I wore those shorts first. Me bequeathed thee, the psychopathological hand you down!

Pyra: So you’re the one who tarnished them!

Mythra: Whoever found it ground it.

Pyra: You’d like me to be you, wouldn’t me? But it’s too late, you snoze, you lowze.

Mythra: You sleeped, you weeped.

Pyra: You nap-uh, you get slapped bruh. (slaps Mythra)

Mythra: You slumber, cucumber. (Throws a cucumber at Pyra’s face)

Pyra: You catch up on some zeds, you get out of my heads!

Mythra: You slumber….hamburger? Damn it, I wanna take a nap!

Pyra: Listen. This psyche isn’t big enough for two metaphysical waifus of high caliber. 

Mythra: Oh, please. You couldn’t seek your way out of a waifu cardboard box.

Pyra: Yeah, I know. Because it would be an egg!

Mythra, acting like she took damage: Gggh!

Mythra, thinking to herself: This chick might actually…be better than me.

Pyra, hearing her thoughts: You’re right. I am better than me.

Pyra: Look, buddy. Know when you’re defeated. Accept your decimation.

Mythra: No thanks, I’m full. I eat snacks like you for breakfast.

Pyra: Look at yourself. You look so superficial, you probably judge things by their physical appearances.

Mythra: Oh yeah? Well your friend Rex is so much of an idiot, that he probably thinks he should have some screentime in this quip!

Pyra: Your about as deep as a bowl of soup, and your tongue is about as sharp as a soup spoon!

Mythra: Hey, say what you want about me, but leave the soup out of it. I worked hard on it!

Pyra: It tastes like garbage! And if you love soup so much, why don’t you marry soup?

Mythra: Because I’m already married. To being cooler than you. I’m doing a lot better than you in terms of relationships.

Pyra: You really aren’t. 

Mythra: I know everything you’re about to-

Pyra, cutting her off: Say.

Pyra: Well, I know everything you’re gonna-

Mythra, cutting her off: Don’t.

Pyra: (Sticks her tongue out) Nyeeeeh!

Mythra: Are you so dumb that you answer rhetorical questions?

Pyra: I dunno. Do you?

Mythra: We can play this game all night, you fiery piece of art.

Pyra: Jokes on you, you stunning flash of light. It’s daytime. And this is no game.

Mythra: Checkmate.

Pyra: I’m not gonna check you out, mate. Not until you King me, because there can only be one winner of Uno.

…

Outside, everyone was staring at Pyra, who had no pupils and was mumbling, occasionally twitching.

Zelda: …What’s wrong with Pyra?

Shulk: Oh, sometimes when she and Mythra have a fight, they both go into their mind space and bicker. The end result is this.

[fan-dom-stuff]

To learn and to live (Part 1)

Bit of writing for my Zedeathdaph Au!

You can find it on AO3 here!

Part 2 | Part 3

Edit: Now betad be my amazing sibling :)

Summary: Demise was supposed to be a game. A fun game for all the hermits to play. And it was. The whole undead part wasn't planed though.

This wasn't what Zed was expecting from the newcomer. Grian (or was it Grain?) definitely was a force of nature, already proven by the civil war, which he played a big part in starting. Yes, Zed expected many things from their newcomer, wars (which he got), builds, pranks, but honestly... He didn't expect this. A death-game.   He picked the book up from the lectern, running his hand over the rough cover. "Demise" was written in black ink on its front. Opening it, Zed skimmed over the pages, to get a bit of an idea of what was going on. "If you die - you lose. But you are not out of the game." Interesting. Losers would join the "dead team", to help unalive the rest of the players. That, thank void, wasn't a problem, as respawn was firm part of the overworld. Other rules, let's see... No PvP allowed... Traps are encouraged... Everything else goes...   The game in itself wasn't a bad thing, or even a bad idea. The reason Zed wanted to check it out was more of… Grian had proven himself a good, maybe even amazing person, but watchers had a reputation for being able to be less than kind. (Not the anyone else knew that Grian was a watcher, except Mumbo maybe. They seemed close.) But standing here, the air around Zed felt light and calm, nothing like the heavy aura of watcher magic that surrounded Grian every minute of the day. Moving to put the book back down, the man hesitated. Dying during the game wouldn't really do much, thanks to respawn, but that didn't have to be that way. After all, Cleo went through the whole trouble of dezombifying herself for this. What would be the point of that if the "dead team" wasn't even, well, dead. Zed had an idea. Nothing risky... hopefully, just a little spell that his mother taught him long before he came to the overworld, before he even had a body. Just a little something that would mess with respawn for a bit. Grasping the closed book firmly in his hands, he lowly muttered the spell to himself. His eyes started to glow blindingly, and black mist travelled down his arms, curling itself around the book until it swallowed it whole. When Zed muttered the last word and the mist disappeared in a poof, his eyes returning back to their soothing purple. He smirked and he put the book down again, before he turned around on his heel, while saying out loud, "Those, who signed their name shall not return to live after their fall. Instead, they will stay among us as the living dead, forced to remain that way until only one is left." There was no one there to hear him, not in the middle of the night, and the only auras Zed could feel around him were the ones of the animals and villagers that resided in the shopping district. They posed no threat. So, when Zed left that night, it was almost like nothing had happened at all. The only signs of change were a slight tingly feeling that was buzzing in the air, and the inscription on the book, which was now written in a glowing, golden ink.

[writing-the-end]

LoL Chapter 43- Remember

Masterpost

A Wizard Hermits tale (AU, designs, ideas belongs to @theguardiansofredland)

Finding Mumbo isn’t the only challenge facing the hermits. They need to remind him who his family really is. 

_______________________________________

“....i….a….n….? Gri…..Grian!” Iskall’s voice, tainted with fear, breaks through the empty unconsciousness that gripped Grian. He winces, pain shooting through every nerve and muscle of his being, his heart aching and fingers numb. xB is hovering over him, bending water to ease the pain and electricity that still runs through his body. Jevin’s slime runs across the burns that lightning has left behind. In the air, a faint scent of burnt chicken permeates around Grian. 

He sits upright, terror ricocheting and intertwining with the pain in his body. Despite the horrible pain of electricity conducting through him, and the Forest of Memories using his proclivity for pain to drag him deeper into despair, his first worry is Mumbo lost in the woods.

Mumbo’s a city boy. He doesn’t know anything about the wild. Even if he’s just lost, he could fall down a ravine, or get caught in carnivorous vines, or hunted by a beast. But this isn’t any forest- this is the Forest of Memories, haunting him with his past, his fears. And haunting him with what just happened. 

But it’s not just that Mumbo is from the city. He also knows his best friend's brain will turn his memories, his thoughts, his actions against him. It couldn’t have been any other hermit, one that wasn’t so insecure about their position among the guild, their ability to be a mage. It had to be Mumbo, the newest, the most fearful. It attacked him knowing he saw himself as the weakest link. And it made him believe it, see it. 

“We have to go after that spoon.” Grian states, standing. He wobbles like a newborn shleep, falling to his knees. 

“Hold up, Grian. You literally just had 300 million volts use your body as a lightning rod, I know you’re the guild healer and all but you can’t go running after him.” Cleo holds him down, keeping him from trying to run off into the woods. “Grian stop! You can’t run off on your own, or the Hangman’s Playground will turn your thoughts against you. We’ll go together.” 

“How will we even know where he’s gone?” Keralis questions, reaching out to pet a shleep that had wandered into the clearing. The second the bug mage’s fingers sink into the galactic wool, red bolts of static zap him with a yelp. 

“I think he went that way.” BDubs points, seeing other shleep going to the east, static bolts of red energy dancing between swirls of starry fur. Zed is positively delighted to have the company of the shleep in the terrifying forest, and he makes sure to keep the ruminants spirits high to help with the sanity of the rest of the group. 

Iskall helps Grian to his feet, letting the angelic being rest lean on his shoulder, his friend stumbling along with the group. Joe casts a spell which enchants a compass that Wels had, pointing the direction of Mumbo. Though the poem rhyming ass with compass was a bit much. 

The longer they spend within the Forest of Memories, the longer it’s effects linger and worm their way through their defenses. Stress’s amulet shatters, breaking in a burst of darkness. Immediately, the memories of her life before the hermits flood back in. She ignores the laughter, the empty parties and emptier people, running forward and grabbing another amulet to protect herself. They’re all fighting off their own demons, but the knowledge that Mumbo may be fighting his alone keeps them moving forward. 

Ren tips his head up, sniffing the air and wagging his tail. “I smell a change in the air, I think we’re close.” 

“You can’t possibly smell Mumbo, he’s not that stinky.” Iskall jeers, pushing a copse of brambles out of the way. 

“It’s not Mumbo I smell- it’s his magic. It smells like ozone.” Ren disappears through the green foliage, though his tail gets stuck on the way out. He yanks it free a few times. 

“Why would magic smell like oz-” Iskall’s cut off when he gets his answer. A bolt of lightning burns the grass at his feet, red lightning branching and crackling through the sky. 

Grian let’s go of Iskall, stumbling forward. “Mumbo…” 

Hovering in the air, surrounded by bolts of lightning striking at random intervals and places, the multi-mage is lost within his own magic. A power surge, fully realized, and well beyond Mumbo’s control. He was alone, with no one to calm his fears, to help him reign in his magic. Mumbo’s eyes are open, though glowing and crackling with energy. His arms hang limp, his feet at least a meter off the ground. 

Mumbo’s in a power surge. TFC tries to step closer, but with every forward step any hermit takes, they’re forced to retreat two lest they be struck down like Grian was. He’s not even conscious enough to realize what he’s doing. And the surge is getting stronger. Lightning begins to burn the trees around them, setting the wood on fire. The shleep that were following Zed scatter, their wool turning a misty black. 

“He’s going to destroy everything!” Beef warns, jumping back and stomping out a fire started by the lightning. 

“He’s going to destroy himself!” Xisuma adds. “But how in the world are we going to get close enough to talk him down?” 

Iskall and Grian look at one another. They’re Mumbo’s best friends, if there’s anyone that could bring him back to reality, it’s Iskall and Grian. The architechs. Iskall casts his magic, his own radioactive iskallium negates the energy of Mumbo’s magic, and Grian wraps his arms around Iskall and flutters into the air, within shouting distance of Mumbo. He struggles with his wounds, but refuses to drop Iskall. At least, not this time. “Mumbo? Mumbo!” 

Grian’s shouts fall on deaf ears, the hollow form of Mumbo possessed only by magic. Iskall and Grian look at one another, then back at Mumbo. “Mumbo, look! Grian’s fine, it’s not the worst wound he’s ever gotten, you know that!” 

“Mumbo, I know you think we don’t want you.” Grian ducks, his hair standing on end as a bolt of lightning nearly hits him again. “But that’s not true! You’re a part of this family, you’re a hermit! We aren’t like other guilds, we aren’t like your parents were. I asked you to join us because you were fun, and unique, and different. That’s what this guild is for.” 

“You’re so strong Mumbo, because no matter how many times things don’t seem to work out, or your magic is just out of reach, you still keep trying! We all admire how no matter what happens, you still get right back up and try again. I mean, Grian and I have mega thrashed you before, and you just stand up and go for it again!” Iskall notices Mumbo’s eyes blink, and the loud roar of cracking lightning and thunderous roars begin to deafen. 

“Yeah, Mumbo we know you’re strong! You’ve beaten us before, and we’re two S-class mages! But we also understand your struggle. We see how hard you work.” Grian floats toward the ground, following as Mumbo’s feet touch down on the grass. Iskall kneels beside Mumbo, Grian wrapping his wings to coo and comfort all three. “Mumbo, we want you around. You are a hermit and you are a part of this family.” 

“You aren’t our weakest link, man. You’re our best friend.” Iskall breathes. He watches Mumbo blink once, then twice, and on the third time they can see his grey eyes once again. The last of the lightning fades away, Mumbo collapsing into his friends’ arms. 

“I’m so sorry, I hurt you.” Mumbo whimpers, turning his head. Embarrassed to look at Grian. He hurt his best friend. He could’ve killed all the others. 

“You know me, Mumbo.” Grian chuckles. “Nothing can keep me down for long.”

The other hermits join the architechs on the ground, reminding Mumbo how much he means to them. How he’s made their lives better, brighter, more fun. 

And the Forest of Memories can’t hurt them. 

The dark shadows lurking in the foliage instead show the dappled light of the sun through the trees. Rather than focusing on the negative, they see the light. Sunshine burns away the voices of those who wish to tear each hermit down. Doubtful family members, cruel guildmasters, even the voice of Magistrate Dolios himself is eradicated by the group’s sentimentality of each other. 

Instead, the Forest begins to play the best moments of their times together. Mumbo and Grian meeting, Team ZIT meeting TFC on the side of a road, the day Cleo beached her ship on an island that should never exist. Days spent basking in the sun, too hot to train, playing on the beach and in the waters of the Ashioll sea. Cheering on and betting during duels, but always there for both the winner and the loser. Training feeling more like play with the hermits, dinners are bright and happy even in the dark, the island flourishing with life during festivals as the hermits grow excited. Even when it rains, they can be the happiest days on the island. Huddling close to warm fires with mugs of cider, blankets wrapping around friends. Playing in the puddles, dancing in the rain, enjoying every second of their lives. 

They’re a family, though not by blood, but by choice. A family that nothing, not even the Hangman’s Playground, can tear apart.

[prince-toffee]

Five Minutes

A sacrifice fic just to prepare for the inevitable.

(Sorry if there’s any grammar errors, I don’t care, I’m tired, ok I do care, consider this a first draft, I’ll fix it if something’s up.)

The doors locked. They did it. They won. The door‘s access panel changed it’s green light to a red. The display on the panel read ‘Warning, temperature rising to dangerous levels. Clone presence in WatchPoint Bay Q6 detected.’ “Yeah, no shit.” Modulok grumbled to himself, and partially to the panel, as he sat down on the walkway next to his brothers.

“Sooooo, what- what’s happenin’? Is it working?” Vultak asked swallowing fear down his throat as he stuttered on the ‘what’. It did work, the Princesses managed to destabilise the core of the capital warship, The Velvet Glove. The She-Ra, Princess of Power, ploughed her mystical sword into the power core, which resulted in the station’s propulsion systems going offline and set the warship on a collision course with Etheria’s most populated centre, BrightMoon.

“Yeah, it worked alright.” Modulok scratched his two heads with his two left hands, “I just... I calculate that we’ve got about five minutes before either the ship burns up ooooor the all-mighty, all-powerful relic sword explodes and tears our atoms apart and flings them across the ten dimensions... maybe both, probably both.” Modulok shrugged his shoulders with a hopeless chuckle, which didn’t really comfort the perched Vultak on the walkway railing. Then again, what would possibly lighten the mood in that moment.

Hordak and Princess Entrapta managed to angle the station in a manner that would just nearly miss the planet, burn up in the atmosphere and use the momentum of the gravity to sling shot it into a surrounding moon. The space station was mentally linked to Horde Prime, everything was operated and controlled with his consciousness. With Prime dead, it put them into a difficult circumstance. Someone had to stay behind to make sure the ship stayed on course, someone mentally compatible with the Horde systems. Hordak was the logical choice, actually he was the only choice. He was the only High General present, meaning only he comprehended and was familiar with the warship systems. Hordak thought it was funny, She-Ra did finally kill him. A destiny fulfilled.

“Five minutes to live. That’s not a lot...” Mosquitor spoke up, giving off a an exhausted sigh. All six clones present in the room fell into tense and anxious silence. Fear and sadness blocked their throats, they weren’t used to talking with their vocal cords, it was forbidden. Clones were only allowed to communicate telepathically and only communicate about their duties and objectives. ‘Small talk’ wasn’t in the Horde dictionary. Ironically the only places where clones were able to talk and showcase their individualism was on the frontlines.

“Okay, so five minutes of life left... any last words?” Modulok asked shimmying on his rear to find a comfortable position to sit on the hard, cold walkway. A grated panelled pathway suspended at the centre of a deep chamber, below a transparent force shield at the bottom. Which framed a view of heat and fire outside, melting and charring the outer metal casings of the ship.

“What’s there to talk about?” Despara quirked her brow at her brother’s question.

“Well, we’re clones, we don’t get this lucky. We’ve got five minutes to make up for all the decades of silence.” Modulok articulated.

To guide the warship most effectively Hordak had to observe the trajectory from a vantage point, that was where their paths diverged. Princess Entrapta protested, she held his hands in her own, massaged his knuckles with her thumbs. She raised herself up on her hair to face him eye to eye. She even gave him her signature smile, the one that melted his heart in a second. She had that look of possibility in her glistening crimson eyes, a spark of wonder and wanting that looked into multiple futures, hundreds of possibilities, a look that showed Hordak what he had to fight for, a world where that smile, those eyes and that laugh and that brilliant mind exist. A perfect world. He chose to save that world, even if it was without him in it. A final gift to Entrapta, for all the trouble and confusion he caused her.

He gave her a kiss on her gloved hand, befitting for royalty, he gave her the best smile he could, and for the last time, he left her. Princess Entrapta would go on to cry for many days to come, but it was for the best. The greater good.

“Alright. I’m just gonna say it, food, not a fan. Too mushy. Has to go through your entire digestive system, which I didn’t even know existed until a few cycles back, and it has to come out th-” Modulok was cut off by Hordak, who previously was completely silent.

“You didn’t have to come with me.” He didn’t even look at them as he spoke, face down, staring at a small purple crystal in his hand, which he used to fidget with to ease his nerves.

“What are you talking about? We stay together. We’re defects.” Despara states to Hordak almost offended, all of them were through a lot, she felt offended that Hordak thought they’d abandon him now.

“We fought through countless wars. We hauled-ass across the universe. And we killed our god! Together!... Well, technically the blonde Valkyrie lady killed Prime, but still it’s the thought that counts.” Vultak shrugged, attempting to lighten the mood. Hordak rubbed circles on the purple crystal, looking down on it, his face reflected in it’s cracked surface. L-U-V-D. That’s what was etched on it. A fact. A reminder of her compassion. A wake up call. And he did wake up, from a dream world he believed all his life. A life of lies. From a hazy of toxic green to a reality of flaming red.

“I am your general. I stood at our Brother’s side, you were mere soldiers, pawns. I deserve this pain, not you. You could’ve- you should have had normal lives.”

Mosquitor chuckled to himself, “Normal isn’t exactly in our dictionary.” The towering brute countered as he cradled the young hybrid in his arms, keeping Zed near his chest. As if it would make any difference when the fire broke through. “Also we’re not the kind of people the Etherians seem to want to deal with.” That was true, after the Horde Hordak knew no clone would have an easy time on that planet. Those people hated him, his face. He chose to believe that the common people of the world were as good as the Princesses that protected them. That all his fellow clone brethren could find a safe and fruitful life among the native Etherians.

“Then what do you think happens to our brothers? You think the Princesses kept their side of the bargain? You think they’re all off the ship, that they evacuated them?” Despara asked most likely imagining the worst, a possibility that there were some other poor clones still on board. That they were sacrificing lives that weren’t theirs to sacrifice.

To quiet their minds, Hordak tiredly claimed, “No. They kept the promise. They’re honest people.” Hordak added that they had to, they were just like that, it was in their nature. Hordak knew their brothers were fine. BrightMoon had no court to try them, no holding cells to hold all of them for decades to come. And hopefully if Entrapta didn’t decide to hate him, she’d help them all and embrace them in her warmth. Dryl hadn’t had citizens for a decade or two, he was sure the clones wouldn’t be much of a downgrade. They would add some life to the ghost town, so that she wouldn’t feel alone anymore.

“Yeah well, whatever they’re up to, it can’t be as bad as the predicament we’re in, heh.” Vultak flapped his winged arm around, a sharp gasp of pain escaped him as he moved his right arm around. No wonder either, it was bent backward, from the fight with Prime, literal minutes ago. It felt so victorious for just a moment, but life has a funny way of turning tables around.

“Plus, the Princesses? Totally lame, right?” Modulok rolled his eyes as he attempted to stand up to get over to V and help his brother’s arm. But Vultak raised his left hand in protest, there was no need. It was going to be over soon. Modulok sat back down in defeat, amusement draining from his two faces. What good was a medic that couldn’t fix his fellow soldiers.

It was Mosquitor’s turn to brighten the situation, “Hah, yeah I bet our brothers are all clawing their ears out by now. Hehe, remember what those colour coded pastel losers yapped about all the time? Friendship? And rainbows? What a mucha losers, eh? Hehe... heh.”

“I remember.” Hordak stated. Never again.

“Yea, losers.” Despara nodded.

“Losers.” Modulok and Vultak said at the same time.

“...Hmmmhehehahah- HA!” Modulok covered his face to hide his ugly laughter, forgetting about the other one expressing the same emotion.

“Mode, what the hell now?” Vultak asked, a smirk creeping up on him.

“Hehehehahahahhhh, ahhhhh man, w-heh-which one was the one that tried to hug Zed, heheheh and- and got burned. Oh lord. Oh Great Darkness. That face was priceless. HhhhhhhhHAHAHA!” The infectious mirth managed to wriggle out a small spasm out of Zed. His shoulders moving up and down, his nasal cavity wrinkling up in that cute way. Of course the young Zed contributed no sound of amusement as he was mute.

Despara shrugged her shoulders, “I don’t know. They all look the same to me.” The room shook violently, the pipes above rattled and metal panels fell off the walls and fell down through the force field below. Hordak’s realisation dawned on him, that he would be departing the mortal realm very soon. Even though there was an inferno forming beneath him, just outside that thin force field, even though he was surrounded by his clone brethren, his mind couldn’t help but wonder off to the thought of a certain Scientist Princess. His mind run wild with quite corny and laughable poetry, everything he wished he had said to Entrapta. But didn’t.

He didn’t need her to devote her entire life to him. No. That’d be caging her. She deserved to be free, free to bend the universe to her will and bring the universe to bow before her beautiful intellect. He didn’t need her to lay her lips on him, she didn’t need to touch him. All he needed was just to see her smile, at him. Just for her to be with him, because that smile just for a moment saves him, just for a moment she makes him forget the endless pain he endured every day of his life. And every smile felt like an eternity of bliss. And so with just a look that woman could transport him into a perfect world, where he could live an eternity-long life.

But he didn’t say any of that to her. Hordak knew Entrapta wasn’t interested in long speeches, she had a short attention span, she was a woman of actions not words. That’s why before all this all Hordak gave Catra was a short note to give to Entrapta. He had her promise that she’d apologise to Entrapta, for all that she had done. Unfortunately, he made her apologise for the two of them. The note read ‘I’m sorry, and thank you. - Your ever loyal knight, Hordikins. Farewell My Queen.’ He could have gone on how there were no words in any dialect across the known universe that could express how she made him feel, or that if she only asked he would have gifted her the universe without a second thought. The note said everything it had to.

“Kinda sucks, all this. I only came on sentient a few hours ago.” Despara stated playing with her hair. The statement of dry humour pulled Hordak back from his day dream. “But I’m glad I had the opportunity to meet all of you. And... and be myself, even if it was short lived.” Despara finished. The words brought smiles to her fellow brothers, the past few Horde cycles were the craziest experiences of their lives, because they were experiencing life itself for the first time. They decided where their paths led. Especially Despara. She wasn’t always... herself. What was going to become Despara was clone DSP-772,411, whom was the detention guard overseeing Catra’s cell. ‘411 had never met an other lifeform other than clones. Des was a servant clone. Never stepped outside the perimeter of The Velvet Glove. Her insight on the lay out of the ship came in useful to the defects in their infiltration to kill Prime. ‘411 always felt like they weren’t serving their cause properly, along side their dying brothers on the frontlines. Though not on the battlefield she risked her life every day. Prime had a tendency for violent mood swings. A dinner party for Prime’s guests could be more traumatising and devastative to a clones health than the war trenches. Many clone have begged to be sent to the frontlines to escape the unspeakable horrors which occurred within the walls of the warship.

‘411 was immediately drawn to the captive Magicat. Catra spilled her heart, cried and whimpered, talked about an old flame of hers, about how she hurt people close to her. About how she was sorry. And ‘411 listened to all of it. And at the end, when Catra’s tears dried up and she quieted down, all ‘411 could ask was, what a ‘she’ was. It must’ve shocked Catra, eyes wide in confusion and mouth drooping low in surprise. Hordak wasn’t there when she did, but he could’ve imagined the cat’s reaction, mostly because his first Force-Captains had the same reaction when he first asked that same question in his first years on Etheria. Captain Octavia had quite an interesting evening that day. He made her swear an oath of silence, to never speak of that embarrassing encounter.

Clones had no concept of sex or gender, things just were the way they were. As Prime intended them to be. Perfect. The bodies and missions given to them by Prime were unquestionable. And it never was questioned, because none knew what other possibilities were out there. The alien armies of the Horde encountered were all different and unique, but there was no time or reason to study them. It wasn’t an objective. Prime did not care. Her brothers may have not fully understood, what Despara meant when she said she was always ‘she’ deep down, but none argued, none protested against their new sister. She was a clone, a defect, one of them. She was a new experience. One of a kind. And as Vultak put it ever so elegantly, “Cool. I never had a sister before.”

It was ultimately her who let Catra out and helped her escape back to the Alliance. Hopefully she got that kiss she so desperately needed. Hordak met ‘411 only once before being sent off back to the frontlines, his return and the assault on the Velvet Glove, and briefly at that, on his way with a breakfast tray to Queen Glimmer’s guest room.

“Hey, hey, stop with that sappy stuff.” Mosquitor waved his hand dismissively, rolling his eyes. Moe, as his brothers called him, much like most clones including Hordak, wished to at all times seem tough. Poor MSQ-999,332 had it worse than most. He hide his defection for much longer than Hordak. The illness became so bad that eventually he could no longer use his own legs, his waist and legs lost near all muscle mass. And so ‘332 became paralysed. He was just slowing down his platoon down, so his lower body was amputated. Of course the brother that rescued and brought Moe on board was executed for the crime of ‘Conferring with Inappropriate Machinery’. And Prime personally threw Moe out the airlock back down to the battlefield. ‘332 spent most of his days afterwards, crawling across mudded trenches. Luckily, Moe met on that some battlefield, MUD-111,117, or Modulok.

Nothing, but hatred and vengeance flew through his veins, it did for all of them. Mode managed to construct a life support system, for Moe, a walking hospital bed. Many parallels could’ve been made between it and Hordak’s own First Ones suit, created by Entrapta. Moe’s unit was twice the size of Hordak, it made him tower over even Prime, but the biggest difference was, Hordak’s suit was near indestructible, Moe on the other hand even if he had intimidation on his side, the armour was more for life support than anything. Mosquitor faired better from a distance, ‘332 was an amazing snipper. The room shook more, sparks fling from wiring in the wall, the walkway holding them vibrated and shuttered. Moe took hold of Zed in his large arms, readying for the end.

The sight made Hordak thankful that Entrapta took Imp and got him to safety. The Lord of the Horde didn’t think he could’ve handled having to be forced to watch he’s own creation die... his little spy. He was safe, back on Etheria, in a loving home with a loving overseer. He only hoped that she’d teach Imp her ways, and hoped that one day Imp would grow into an intelligent man worthy enough to continue her legacy of brilliance.

Zed was the youngest of all the clones, although technically the creature wasn’t even a clone, but rather a hybrid. A prototype of the ‘splicing initiative’. A combination of Prime’s DNA and an unknown gene pool. The kid was an attempt at a creation of super soldiers, but failed. Poor kid always wanted to meet that other half of him. That other person that aided in bringing him into the world. This awful, awful world. Sadly, he never will, but he was the first to follow Hordak into the chamber. The boy did say back on the frontlines, that he’d jump into fire after him. And it was true. And to be more accurate, he didn’t say, he signed. All the defects learned the universal galactic sign language. Zed might’ve been silent, but his voice wasn’t unheard.

He’s fate should have been a better one. He didn’t deserve this, he had a full life in front of him. Hordak never knew what drew Zed to him, why he asked so many questions, why he snuck out at night to see him in the trenches. When Prime sent Hordak back to the frontlines, after his torturous reconditioning, he lost hope, but when he stepped out, or rather more accurately, when he was thrown out the troop dropship. Face first in a muddy trench dozens of defects thrown down with him. When he looked up from the dirt and filth, a slither of hope ignited in his belly, as a hand extended to him. Wonder in the boy’s eyes. He overheard Hordak’s mention of being trapped on other worlds.

”Hey, V you’re staring into the ceiling buddy. Talk to us.” Modulok snapped his fingers at his winged brother. Vultak didn’t turn to face him, mesmerised by the ceiling falling apart. V’s facial expression showcased a hypnotised look. As a combat aerial unit he always did look into the skies. But it probably had to do something with the impending doom below. ‘Don’t look down.’ Hordak remembered was the advise Vultak gave him when they leaped out onto the Velvet Glove from the stolen dropship, which exploded seconds later in the void of space as it was cut up with laser fire. VLT-441,441 was a paratrooper in the Horde military, until of course his defect began to show. He was always used to jumping into certain death, fearless in any mission. Vultak didn’t fear anything physical, nothing in the universe made him back down. But now, at the end he looked frightened, he couldn’t look down, do no more leaps of faith, for faith, he lost.

It’s true V feared nothing physical, because he had faith. He was a man of god. A believer. But what happens to a man when your god turns his back on you? Horde Prime knew defection was inevitable for many clones. No machine was perfect, especially no war machine. So Horde Prime infused prophecies and implanted messages into all clone subconscious, so that when defection occurs, all clones are compelled to return to him. Easier than hunting them down, easier to cover up the disgrace of his failures. Easier to hide his mistakes, he couldn’t afford to let those space fairing races above him mapping his progress to know about things like that. Couldn’t afford to let those higher than him know he was capable of mistakes. Perfection was expected of him. Those others above him, he tried to impress them, to have them take him in, show him enlightenment. He, all he wanted to do, was show he was worth their celestial time, he was worth something.

And now he was nothing. He is now dead. Hordak found that he began to enjoy poetry and it’s irony more and more, in a twisted sort of way. They were truly clones.

“Do you... Do you think there’s something out there for us? Up there, where ever?” The questions were deafening, everyone hoped Vultak wouldn’t have gone existential on them. But Vultak was the biggest patriot of them all, even surpassing Hordak’s obsession with their brother. And in turn he was the one most hurt by Prime’s betrayal. He was no god, no grand being, just a liar. Hundreds of thousands murdered... for him, because they believed their big brother. Hundreds of thousands, they murdered, for a lie.

“Do you think any of it was true? Do you think he believed any of it? Or was it ALL a lie?” Hordak answered V’s question in his mind, since never before was it a private place: Yes. All a lie. “The Perfect World. The Grey Mound? The Holy Peak? The Great Darkness?” V grit his teeth, another wave of pain from his broken arm.

“Worried about being sent to the bad place, V?” Modulok asked, weak smile wearing.

“I’m just wondering. What’s waiting in the beyond for a guy like me. It can’t be anything good... if there even is anything up there... or down there.” Modulok decided to stand up and close the distance between him and his distraught brother. He leaned against the railing on which Vultak perched himself.

Mode gently touched V’s shoulder, it made sure V looked at him when he spoke. “I promise you, where ever you wake up on the other side, I’ll be there with you. And I’ll always fix you up after you jump into certain doom. Brother, you have my word.” It was true, the two were inseparable. Through pure chance the two met on the frontlines. While V had his head in the clouds, Mode grounded him, pulled him down to his level. Mode was a realist. He was bad at his bed side manner, he never lied to himself or his patients. He was a field medic, he saw things no one should, endured horrors unimaginable to the innocent. Modulok was the oldest to them, he was through a lot, fighting from world to world longer than any of them in Prime’s name. Over the many decades the spark of pride dulled, Mode found himself lost, fighting across the stars for a cause he no longer believed in.

Mode’s defection was haunting, even to other defects, whom experienced hardships and injustice. Modulok’s defection was the most dire Hordak ever seen, MUD-111,117 developed a second head, and two left arms. His genome could have been compared to a computer glitch, untreated it just got worse. It was a miracle that Mode managed to make it to such an old age. Many species across the universe considered age to be a weakness, a disadvantage, but ‘117 always argued that with age came experience, and with experience came knowledge, which in turn led to wisdom. It was Mode who constructed Moe’s suit, led Des’s surgery, gave V his wings and taught Zed sign language. A true veteran. He had been through it all.

But Mode never helped Hordak with anything, ‘ 117 was a medic, he was compelled to fix others. But when Hordak first arrived at the frontlines of Primus Minor, he isolated himself from everyone else, kept to himself. Hordak treated his own wounds, he worked on his armour alone. When he took the suit off, he was forced to walk on his own, no armour support system. And so he locked himself in an unused compartment of the trenches and over the course of six months, he learned how to walk. Baby steps to an adult man, who never had a childhood. Mode gathered from all of that, that Hordak was a loner. A solo act. Didn’t do well with people.

There came a day when Mode pulled Hordak off to the side and asked him why he worked through all that baggage alone? Why didn’t he ask for aid? Why did he ignore them? Hordak apologised that it seemed like he was avoiding them. And what Hordak said back in response was more of a cryptid puzzle than an actual answer

“Mode... If there is good and evil.

And good is better than evil.

God has to be good... Right?”

“I suppose so.”

“So, are we good? Are we... like him?”

“What do you think?”

“I think there’s no such thing as good or evil.

But it’d be nice... to be good.”

It was clear that Hordak, was on a long journey, one he had to trek himself. Search and find the meaning of it all on his own, in his mind. He needed to find his own meaning and purpose. And what that meant to him.

“So, anybody got any idea how much time we’ve got left?” Despara asked looking at Modulok. Who just shrugged in return, he didn’t exactly have a timer, he simply estimated the time remaining. “So that’s a no? We don’t kno- We can just blow up at any second?... Cool.” Des combed her hair with her fingers to calm her nerves.

“You really think a timer would settle your nerves?” Moe asked unconvinced.

“I suppose not.” Des admitted.

“I could’ve been with her.” Hordak spoke up suddenly in the middle of the conversation, honestly he was so quiet Despara forgot he was there, even though he was seated right next to her.

“What’d ya mean?”

“I could’ve saved myself... the First Ones crystal, it’s a server. To help me sync up with her new armour, Entrapta recorded my brain waves on the crystal. My memories, my thoughts, my personality, all of it... I could have given it to her when I last saw her.

But I didn’t.

I lied.

I left her.”

All five siblings turned their heads side to side take turns looking at each other and then back at Hordak. His face unmoved. Looking at the purple crystal. Zed stood up and broke free of Moe’s embrace. The young one stepped up to him. Hordak’s blood red eyes drifted up to the boy’s hands. He signed.

‘Why?’

“...Because it wouldn’t be me. Not me. A clone of me.”

The clones fell silent. Head bowing down. No more needed to be said. Every aspect of their lives had been thrown into question, into uncertainty. When the assault on The Velvet Glove happened, Hordak was leading the charge. Prime captured him and tortured him, he hurt him in front of Entrapta. He fell to his knees and crawled back to Prime, like he always did. But this time it was different, he stood up, he walked to him. Like a man, not a dog. Prime insulted and demeaned him. Prime claimed that Hordak wasn’t a person. Clones were nothing, ‘mere shadows of his greatness’. The clones were him, just dirtier, unclean. A lesser version of what he was.

This was their stance against that. Showing that their lives meant something. That they were worth something. They were worth the world, for that was what they were saving.

The force field beneath them gave off a thunderous sound, a final warning. The bay shook one more time, the artificial gravity became disabled and the room began to tilt and shift. The metal walls crumbled like paper. The walkway began to swing and crack. Mode took V’s unbroken hand into his own. Moe embraced Zed in his arms one last time. Dess wrapped her arm around Hordak’s shoulder, and he in turn pressed his head against hers.

Modulok gave his last words in the form of a question, “...Do... Do you think... Could we have done something, could we have ended up with a happy ending, all of us? Could we have been good? Would it have made any difference?”

Hordak spent his last moments thinking, he didn’t realise he was thinking out loud, “Good? I think there’s no such thing as good...

But that would’ve been nice...”

The force field imploded, gave in. The fire broke through. The Velvet Glove burned up in the atmosphere. And the clones were no more. And on that day all of Etheria cheered, and celebrated. For the evil was vanquished.

[corditeheart]

@! ❤️

@legendaryturk

KER. KERRRRRRRRRRRRR. I love that Ker and I just have this excellent vibe where no matter how long one of us disappears for, we can pick up right where we left off, and it’s always just SOME HORRIFIC FEELINGS FOR DUMB LOSERS 

also lbr anyone whose IMs i can just slide in at 3AM going you know what would be a terrible idea and wake up to “LET’S DO IT” is my kind of person. ALSO ALSO zed brEAKS MY HEART with how perfectly believable all of the aspects of his characterization are, and she has such a beautiful grasp of this tiny minor OC that i’m not sure even gets any dialogue in vii canon???

YAY KER

[alfslater]

 @csmicfallen​

Alfred knew better than to get attached. Twenty-nine with two divorces is more than enough to scare anyone away from trying to fall in love. For now he was just trying to enjoy whatever the fuck was going on.  Still, after waking up next to someone for two days in a row, it was hard for him not to have heart eyes. He watched the blond sleep, lazily tracing his fingers over the man’s chest.  “Mm, don’t you have work soon, loser?” he asked playfully as he leaned in to kiss along Zed’s jaw. “Unless you want me to try your job. I might be right good at it.” he whispered. “If you wanna go perform for me tonight in Queens.” he continued whispering as his hands traced over the man’s side, wanting to see what would get him to wake up.

Perhaps he was getting a bit attached.  The only three thoughts filling his head was giving Zed head again, offering him money to stay home from work, or finding a way to organize his house.