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voiceless-terror · 3 years

Note

Hey, I hope I'm not bothering you, but I wanted to know if you're still taking requests? My friend cinnamoniic's birthday is coming up (around the seccond week of march) and I know they're a fan! If you have time, could you fit is a short Jontim or Jonmartim? That would be really cool!!! (As a surprise, please only publish this ask if you're able to take the request)

hello, not bothering at all! I don’t know if this is early or late but happy birthday @cinnamoniic !! a silly little jonmartim for my favorite artist!!

Tim is very, very happy to have his boyfriends over for the night.

It’s their first overnight and he’s looking forward to falling asleep in Martin’s arms and cuddling up close to Jon, whatever happens first. And that’s why he’s placed himself right between the two, Jon lying on the side of the bed against the wall and Martin insisting on the edge ‘in case I get up in the night, don’t want to wake anyone up, you need your rest.’ Ever the gentleman.

But it’s been three hours and not once has Martin made any motion to get up. In fact, he’d fallen asleep almost two minutes after they got situated, sprawled on his back and dead to the world. Tim’s glad Martin can sleep so deeply, he deserves it with the hours he’s pulling. But he’s not very happy about the sounds he makes while doing it.

Martin snores. Tim does too, as he’s been told by previous partners, but Martin’s like a goddamn motorboat. It’s deafening. He refuses to wake him and inform him of this fact, though he wishes Martin had warned him ahead of time. Tim doesn’t want to make him feel bad, but it’s getting to be a bit of a problem. It’s not steady enough to be a comforting white noise, as it occasionally turns into whistles or crescendos into loud roars. Martin’s got range.

And if Martin sleeps like the dead, Jon's the exact opposite. It’s not that he’s woken up at all, no, but he’s constantly rolling around, climbing on top of them at strange and uncomfortable angles. Tim wouldn’t mind the clinging so much if he didn’t change position every fifteen minutes with a jab of his pointy elbows.

He also talks.

It’s all nonsense, of course. Snarky little noises, as if he can’t stop being a little shit even as he sleeps. Sometimes it's a steady stream of enthusiastic mumbling, like his sleepy equivalent of an info-dump. Tim hopes he’s got a captive audience in his dreams.

He murmurs something directly in Tim’s ear, having burrowed himself in the crook of Tim’s neck five minutes prior. After imparting this wisdom, he rolls back over to face the wall.

“You’ve got a point, buddy. He is loud.” Tim sighs, staring up at the ceiling, when a thought occurs to him.

Maybe if Jon’s got a Martin to distract him, he won’t be so bothersome. Martin seems to be a heavy sleeper, and won’t be woken by Jon’s nocturnal gymnastics. With this in mind, he very carefully scoots to the bottom of the bed and reaches for Jon, half dragging, half carrying him closer to Tim’s previous position. Jon immediately clings on to Martin, throwing himself diagonally over his chest with a happy little noise. Martin doesn’t wake. Perfect. Tim shimmies over to Jon’s spot, his back to the wall as he closes his eyes to finally get some rest.

Until Jon’s leg kicks back and hits Tim directly in the stomach. He yelps and struggles to catch his breath, glaring at his two blissfully unaware companions. Jon snuggles into Martin’s arms and the snores reach a new crescendo. This is hell.

Tim tries, he really does. He spends the next thirty minutes curled as far into the corner as he can manage, he puts the pillow over his head. But nothing drowns out the noise and Jon still intermittently kicks at his back, albeit gentler than before.

He truly loves the two of them, more than he ever thought possible. Tim reminds himself of this as Martin attempts to break the sound barrier and Jon puts on a one-man show of Riverdance against his back. But he’s got to get some fucking sleep.

He considers waking the two of them and voicing his complaints. It’s not unreasonable; hell, Tim would want to know if he were the offending party. But he can’t bear the thought of Martin’s guilty little face, and he knows Jon will use it as an excuse to stay up the rest of the night. He could just slip into the living room, but that’ll just cause a fuss come morning. No, it’s time to do some strategic maneuvering. It’ll be difficult, but Tim thinks he can pull it off without waking the two. And he’s never been one to back down from a challenge.

Tim squirms down to the edge of the bed, flipping Jon’s pliant body back to its previous position. He almost falls out of bed when Jon surprises him with an emphatic “Recording ends!” but he quiets after that, curling into a ball.

“Good job, bossman.” A nickname he can only use when Jon can’t hear. He’s not too fond of it, now that they’re dating. Tim still thinks it’s cute.

Now for the hard part. For this one, he’ll have to get out of bed entirely.

As he looms over Martin, Tim tries to figure out the best way to go about this. He gives him a gentle, experimental shove but Martin’s dead weight and does not want to move, stubborn even in sleep and now snoring louder in what seems like protest. Tim pushes back the sleeves of his sleep shirt, shakes out his arms. This is why you lift, Stoker. You can do this. A second push: the man budges a few inches, but there’s still not enough room for Tim to slip in. Martin’s always been stronger than him, much to his chagrin, and he’s never beaten him in arm wrestling. He’s built like a brick house, albeit much comfier. But Tim will not let him win in his sleep. That’s just ridiculous, not to mention embarrassing. So he lets out a grunt and gives it his best shot, the push finally managing to get Martin completely on his side.

And directly on top of Jon.

“Shit!” Tim swears, immediately jumping on the bed at Jon’s muffled squeak, his hands starting to pull Martin back when what little he sees of Jon suddenly relaxes, his face going slack. Tim briefly worries he’s killed him but Jon is in fact breathing, an utterly content look on his face as if all he needed to settle was the pressure of Martin’s arm and half of his body. Tim laughs in disbelief, running a hand through his hair when he notices the sudden quiet.

Martin’s stopped snoring. Not entirely, no, but after a minute of hovering over the man, he hears only the lightest of occasional wheezes. God, I’m a fucking genius. He almost wishes someone had been around to see it. He’s debating taking a picture and sending it to Sasha when he glances at the clock- two am. If he wants to wake up slightly rested, and in time to try Martin’s much-lauded pancakes, he’s going to have to cut his celebrations short.

So he climbs back into bed, attaching himself to the large, warm expanse of Martin’s back and burying his face in the softness of his worn sleep shirt. This is how it’s supposed to be, cozy and comfortable and quiet. Just took a bit of trial and error.

Now to see if it’ll last til morning.

At eight, Martin wakes everyone with a shriek upon finding Jon buried underneath him and takes both Tim and himself off the bed with the force of his backpedaling. They land with a painful thump, Tim swearing as his abused back takes the brunt of the fall. Jon peers sleepily over the edge of the bed and gives the two of them a pleased smile, stretching like a cat basking in sunlight.

“Don’t think I’ve slept better in my life,” he yawns, blinking slowly. “What are you two doing down there?”

“A-are you serious?” Martin stutters, still tangled in the sheets and making no move to get up. Tim can’t help his snicker. “I-I was completely on top of you-”

“We should do that more often,” Jon agrees. “I like having you on top of me.”

It takes Martin about an hour to recover from that statement and around the same time for Jon to realize what he said. And Tim, well, Tim’s just happy to finally get some sleep.

And Martin’s pancakes. He really wasn’t kidding about those.

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29931783

#tma #the magnus archives #my writing #jonathan sims #tim stoker #martin blackwood #jonmartim #happy birthday!!#i am sorry if this is subpar #i hope you enjoy your day whenever it is!!#you are very talented and sweet and whenever you post it brings a smile to my face #lots of love <33 #Anonymous

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my-writings-and-musings · 4 years

Text

Answering these two asks in a post so all the content can stay in one place!

The original post in question can be found here!

Drift

·He's delighted to have a whole group of young humans on board to foster diplomacy, and he fully intends to do whatever is necessary to make them feel safe and welcome. Though his introduction is polite, the small crowd immediately takes note of his ever present swords, and to his delight their reaction is purely one of innocent awe at his impressive weaponry. Always happy to encourage responsible sword use, he explains the significance of each blade and is incredibly careful when showing the very tiny and very delicate humans what they look like up close. Their delight is so simple and pure some part of him is reminded of his long gone naivety, and his promise to protect them becomes a vow he never intends to break while his own spark still flickers.

·When he casually mentions time on earth one day the group is surprised and effusive in a sudden burst of questions. When he's actually able to recall a surprising amount of pop culture facts their little minds are nearly blown, and from then on they seem to seek him out just to socialize, something that quite surprises him for a multitude of reasons. Even after all his time with the Autobots, many still don't fully accept him as one of their own, so to be seen as a companion by beings so young and innocent... If absolutely touches him, while also making him determined to ensure they never discover that aspect of his life. He tells himself it's for their safety, and that the young shouldn't be troubled with burdens not their own, but he knows that losing the simple delight of their company and respect would hurt him deeply.

·Due to his need for frequent training to keep his skills sharp, it's no surprise that his little fans one day stumble upon him dicing up training dummies in one of the many gymnasium inspired practice areas. Upon seeing them in action he's soon surrounded by a group of very eager wannabe sword fighters, and while he's still recovering from the idea that he's wanted as a teacher a casual mention of Spectralism prompts a new wave of curiosity and interest that he can barely handle. It takes all of his willpower just to keep from letting on how impossibly touched he is by each and every one of them. They're just... interested in who he is? They look up to him just because they think he's cool and want to learn more about his faith, his skills, and his passions...

·The simple goodness of the relationship is all brought to what he thinks to be the end when his past is exposed by accident. He's not even with them when they find out, but he's devastated, and can't bring himself to face them now that they know who he used to be. It's only through sheer determination on behalf of the whole group, and what he thinks is bad luck for him, that the young liaisons manage to find and speak to him once more. For an instant he breaks and can only apologize effusively, begging their forgiveness for... well, everything from the secret to letting them down to allowing them to believe he was what they thought he was. It takes all of them working in tandem to speak over him and make one thing clear; no one is angry.

·His little group of fans makes it abundantly clear they don't see him as "Deadlock" or a Decepticon or anything but the bot they've come to respect. He's not his past in their eyes, and his present has been nothing but kind and welcoming to each and every one of them. Their little hands take hold of his in a gesture of affirmation, and in the strength of their compassion he can't help but feel dwarfed by each of them. Somehow, the experience brings them even closer, and they can frequently be heard referring to their "older brother" when heading off for the training sessions he painstakingly caters to their size. When some of them begin to show him Spectralist greetings and goodbyes he has to take the time to shed a few tears in private, but they definitely notice how affected he is regardless, and each of them make a point to show him how important he is to them every day.

Rodimus

·It was his own genius diplomatic skills that got these little humans secured on the ship in the first place, so he's quite eager to welcome them on board when the day finally comes. The fact that he stresses about impressing them for hours beforehand is something he keeps entirely to himself though... Yet it turns out he has nothing to fear, because each human is rendered speechless merely by the size of the Lost Light when they first see it, and he can't help but be made giddy as a result. He doesn't need to fake any of the enthusiasm he shows as he takes them on a tour, speeding through the hallways and alternating between giving them lifts in vehicle mode and bot mode, the latter of which has him carrying the group on his shoulders and in his arms.

·It's impossible not to be shocked as he sees the humans all... like and respect him immediately? Everything from his altmode to his jokes, they just... their little faces light up and they compliment him and they all want to hang out with him again as soon as possible?! What is this?! Despite having no idea he happily throws himself into this new and strange relationship with these tiny humans. So many of the interests and hobbies he's been told are "unfit" for a bot in his position are met with fascination, support, and requests for him to teach them all he can. It quickly goes from pleasantly surprising to absolutely touching. The whiplash of suddenly having so much positive attention spurs a change in him, namely one of uncharacteristic levels of protective instinct towards these precious visitors.

·Though he's entirely casual to their faces, behind the scenes he's checking on absolutely everything to ensure they're all taken care of. Are their rooms comfortable? Is the food to their liking? Does the crew make them feel welcome? Can he do anything to make their stay better? The various bots he checks in with to ensure everything is running smoothly quickly grow irritated with his constant pestering, though this new side of him is refreshing to most, particularly because he hasn't ever been this responsible about anything in the past. He even checks in with Magnus on the regular! And submits reports in a timely fashion! All to make sure he's doing everything in his power to keep these young liaisons as happy as he can.

·To the humans themselves though, he's the ultimate fun uncle, introducing them to the entire crew and showing them all the fun things there are to do around the ship. If he hears even a rumor that one of them is missing something about their home or wants to try something they don't have the ability to make happen, you better believe he is going to do everything in his power as captain to get things going. But of course he keeps all this work to himself, he wants to be the most effortlessly cool bot they know, and also doesn't want to concern them with all of the details. Unfortunately a slip up for one particularly epic movie night at Swerve's reveals the many sleepless hours he spent arranging it all, and in his rushed reasurances it comes out that he's been working himself ragged taking care of their every need.

·The entire group is shocked by his dedication, but also his incredible talent. He's funny, charismatic, friendly, and he's also been doing so much for them? The entire group brings him into an impromptu hug of appreciation, and he very nearly tears up in front of them. Somehow, these young aliens have become everything he didn't know he needed. They're his friends, but they look up to him, and his new honorifics of "Fun uncle" and "big brother" are there to prove it. But from then on they refuse to let him do all the work of arranging things himself. If someone has an idea to improve the ship, it gets done as a group, with one very happy bot surrounded by his ever present posse of humans ready to help the coolest captain in the galaxy. They're even kind enough to pretend they don't see the happy tears misting his optics from time to time.

Rung

·Not having ever been to earth, along with never seeing humans outside of their media, means he really didn't know what to expect of the incoming humans. Hearing that they were all exceptionally young just made him concerned, especially after a quick bit of research made it apparent that humans are quite emotionally turbulent in this protoformesque stage. He's not concerned for his sake though, even the tallest human is tiny at his side, he's worried they made need a little extra assistance adjusting to life after such a big change. Thus, he makes quite sure to be present when they're brought on board to introduce himself and extend his services. A small part of him can't help but be delighted upon meeting them; so small, yet so exuberant! They're all polite despite their wide eyed wonder at... everything, but his description of his proffesion really catches their attention for a group exclamation; Cybertronians have psychologists?!

·Having prepared to offer help, he's blindsided by their interest in simply... learning about his career? They want to know about the places he's been and the ships he's served on, particularly when they learn he has models of each, and they're so small he's not at all worried when he brings a couple collectibles down for them to see up close. Watching these little beings clamor to see something most of his own kind finds boring makes the protective feelings in his spark strengthen into a promise to keep each and every one of them safe. He takes note of each individual human's traits and personalities while memorizing their names, being quite aware of how much it means to simply have one's designation remembered, and also commits to guiding them all through their unique interests and goals.

·Spending time with the liaisons in their group as well as one on one, it doesn't occur to him that they don't follow the same pattern as every Cybertronian he's ever met until one of them brings it up; why do the other bots always get his name wrong? It's only in that moment he realizes none of them have ever forgotten, mispronounced, or even hesitated to say his name. The surprise is enough that he can't even reply to them initially. When he does manage to find words they're quite insufficient, and he tries to explain that even he doesn't know, but he's always just assumed his small stature and quiet demeanor simply meant he tended to fade from memory rather quickly. Nothing else beyond his "historical constant" theory really explains it, as far as he knows.

·Ever able to defy expectations, the little liaisons react to his indirect self depreciation with emphatic reasurances that he's not at all forgetable, and are so intent on making sure he knows that they speak over one another in an emotional gaggle of supportive youngsters. It's all more than the quiet psychiatrist could have ever expected. Of course he never enjoyed being forgotten, but he's become so accustomed to dismissing those feelings he has no way to process this sudden outpouring of support. The humans are all around him in a kind of embrace, which is made difficult mostly due to the number of them and the size difference, but the affection in the gesture is still quite clear. It's all he can do to hold them in return as they all promise to never forget him no matter what happens.

·He keeps his tears private, but that doesn't stop them from coming when he's behind closed doors, though he just lets the happiness brim over into the few that run down his cheeks after he removes his glasses. The irony of it all doesn't hit him until he and the group are present at a movie night, and as he listens to them all gush in turn to the cinema selection of the evening it occurs to him that his initial intent to help them has been flipped quite completely around. These little ones have helped him, helped him feel worth remembering, helped him feel like he belongs, helped him find a family... Watching them gather around him almost protectively from a forgetful world, he isn't quite sure if he's been adopted or if they have, but he can't bring himself to care about such details. Neither can any of the liaisons who vowed to each other their new friend would never feel lonely again.

#transformers #maccadam #mtmte #more than meets the eye #lost light #idw #tf #requests #anon #my writing #my asks #liaisons #human reader #self insert #drift #rodimus prime #rung

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squadrablog · 4 years

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ok I've joined the Ghiaccio hype train, could I request a Ghiaccio fic with a reader who doesn't like sudden loud noises and will definitely cry if you yell at them? they're really intimidated by Ghiaccio but they're comfortable with the rest of La Squadra, so he's struggling to be a good team member to someone who's always nervous around him. feel free to make it romantic or platonic, your writing is amazing!! 💕💕

Here you are! With the stuff I ended up focusing on I thought that shoehorning a romance in would feel weird, so I focused more on exploring the beginnings of a platonic friendship with him. Lots of awkward Ghiaccio and miscommunication but it all ends up good. :^)

Ghiaccio & Reader (platonic, gender neutral)

Ao3 Mirror Here.

Word Count: 3921

Warnings: Reader has childhood trauma w/ loud noises, not gone into in depth. Assassination job implied but doesn’t happen in text.

Under cut for length!

The last thing you saw yourself doing with your life was becoming an assassin, but here you were. You were a tough kid, scrappy and resourceful when it came down to it, but only because you had to be to get by. You always thought you’d eventually leave that old life behind. The gunshots echoing into the night from rival mafias squaring off to claim the neighborhood you lived in as their territory. The shouts from the man who took you in when you had nowhere else to go, only to berate you when you failed to pick enough pockets to meet his quotas. The way the older and meaner children would torment you, taunt and deride you, whenever you let your vulnerability show.

And you had, more or less, left those parts of it behind at least. When you joined Passione as a last ditch effort to survive you were given a sense of stability that you had never had before, and after initiation when your stand manifested as something powerful and deadly, it didn’t take too long for you to get placed into La Squadra di Esecuzione, Passione’s team of elite assassins.

As a stand user working with other stand users you rarely relied on guns to get your work done. You were no longer struggling to get by, and although your new Capo held his team to high standards he made sure you had ample training and was patient with you while you were still getting your footing. All your teammates were surprisingly supportive; even if they were wary of outsiders, when it came to their own family they looked out for each other.

It was a dangerous life, not without its own anxieties, but it was a much quieter life. It was a life in the shadows, with a roof over your head, with work that allowed you to use stealth and silence. Even if you couldn’t exactly say you were thrilled about being an assassin you were at least surrounded by people who genuinely cared about you now, watched over by a man who never raised his voice at you for things outside your control, and most comforting of all: you never needed to use a gun.

Not all loud noises set you off, just the ones that reminded you of the violent instability of your childhood and the cruelty of your guardian and peers. Your new teammates could get pretty noisy and spirited, but the boisterous and jovial nature of their laughter, even from their more intense teasing, was a comforting change of pace. You didn’t doubt your value or the fact they respected you.

Well, mostly. There was one teammate who was a bit harder for you to let your guard down around.

His name was Ghiaccio, and to say he was loud would be an understatement. When you first met him he had been a bit standoffish, but so were Risotto and Prosciutto. You knew it would take some time for everyone to accept you as a real part of the squad, and you were ready to be patient. But as you quietly observed everyone for those first few weeks, getting a feel for their individual personalities and their dynamics with each other, you found yourself very intimidated by Ghiaccio. He was able to pal around with the rest of them, even if he was gruff as a default, but when something upset him it was like a switch had been flipped.

He was critical of his squadmates’ performance out in the field, and he never hesitated to offer his critiques regardless of how little anyone wanted to hear them. He was critical of the way people talked, constantly nitpicking everyone’s pronunciations and word choice. He was critical of the way that chores around the house got done, judging everyone’s efforts by timeliness and thoroughness.

Everyone was able to brush him off most of the time without problem. When they actually valued what he had to say they never seemed to take the mean way he said it personally. They’d had plenty of time to get used to him and sift through the bullshit. They knew when something actually mattered to him and when something was just him blowing off steam for the sake of it. They knew when it was fair to ask him to shut up and when it was best to let him get it out of his system.

You steeled yourself as best as you could in those first few weeks, just telling yourself you needed some time to understand his quirks like the rest of your squad did, but your opinion changed immediately after your first mission with him.

“Is Prosciutto teaching you anything?” he barked out at you after you two finally managed to take out your hit. You flinched and looked away from his intense gaze. You were a bit anxious about being alone with him for the first time, and you wanted to give him your best effort to impress him, but being on so on edge caused you to make some big mistakes.

“Well?” he demanded when you said nothing. You had assumed it was a rhetorical question.

“Y-yes?” you stuttered out.

“Then you’re the one accountable for fucking up today. What the hell was that?” he asked, his question ending in something similar to a snarl.

Something that was different about working with Ghiaccio as opposed to working with the others was that he argued out loud to no one in particular about random topics that pissed him off. At first you thought he was expecting you to talk to him about how nonsensical some phrase was that Formaggio used before the two of you left, and you listened attentively, but he never gave you any room to respond. Eventually you realized he wasn’t really conversing, just yelling to yell. It was very distracting and it only made you fidget and lose focus.

“I… well…” you choked out. “It’s usually quieter… on my missions, since my stand is- well, since my stand is made for stealth and-”

“Me talking prevented you from doing your job correctly?” he asked, his eyes narrowing. You just shrunk even deeper within yourself. The last thing you wanted to do was insinuate your mistake had been his fault. There was no way that wouldn’t provoke his ire.

“N-no! You didn’t do anything wrong! It was me, I’m really sorry! It won’t happen again!” you squeaked out.

“Better not,” he grumbled sarcastically with a huff before turning to walk down the street towards his car. You followed, keeping a good distance behind him, not looking forward to the ride back to the base.

---

That had been weeks ago. While you had been doing a decent job at tolerating Ghiaccio before that mission, afterwards was a different story. You actively avoided him, checking if he was in rooms before entering, excusing yourself when he came into a room you were already in, shutting yourself in your room upstairs when you heard him start up on a rant somewhere on the main floor.

Eventually it was shamelessly (or perhaps shamefully) obvious to just about everyone.

“Dude, what happened on your mission with them?” Formaggio asked in a hushed tone one time after your footsteps had disappeared up the stairs. “They’re terrified of you.”

“How the fuck should I know? They haven’t said anything to me about it,” Ghiaccio shot back.

“Uh, yeah, duh. That’s what I’m saying. They won’t even sit in the same room as you,” Formaggio muttered.

“Yeah, I’ve noticed,” he said, scrunching up his eyebrows. “But it��s not like they talk much to begin with.”

“Are you kidding?” Illuso interjected, inserting himself into his two teammates’ conversation, much to Ghiaccio’s annoyance. “I can get them to prattle on for hours about themself. They’re a real chatterbox once you get to know them.”

“Illuso, dude, have they told you the story about their mission with Pesci down at the wharf?” Formaggio asked with a big grin.

“Fuck, I almost forgot about that,” Illuso replied with a chuckle. “What about the time where-”

“Hey! Shut up for a second,” Ghiaccio snapped. “We’re all talking about the same person, right?”

Upon being interrupted Illuso narrowed his eyes at Ghiaccio before turning to Formaggio. “It’s obviously because of Ghiaccio’s poorly controlled rage. Have you ever seen the poor thing freeze up over a gunshot before?”

“No, but I can imagine. One time I tried scaring them from behind and it took them ten whole minutes to recover,” Formaggio responded.

“I haven’t done shit to them, what possible reason do they have to be scared of me?” Ghiaccio asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Well, what happened on that mission?” Formaggio asked again.

“It was pretty standard, I killed the bastard while they assisted. They did fuck up pretty bad, which is typical during training, so I pointed it out for their benefit. Then we left,” Ghiaccio recounted. “Nothing else happened.”

Formaggio raised an eyebrow. “What did you say?”

“I don’t know! I think I asked if Prosciutto was doing his job right since they didn’t seem too confident. I asked if there was anything that might have contributed to their lackluster performance, but after thinking it over they said that it was on them.”

“Sounds pretty level headed and analytical of you,” Illuso said, stroking his chin. “Are you sure that’s how you said it?”

“Probably not in so many words, I was probably more casual about it,” Ghiaccio grumbled. “Why does it matter how I said it? What’s important is what I said.”

“Ghiaccio, your brand of casual is a few decibels above what’s average,” Illuso said.

“Not to mention the casual expletives, or the casual sarcasm,” Formaggio added. “Are you sure you didn’t casually tell them to go fuck themself without realizing it?”

“No! I mean, if I was stern with them it was in the context of training!” Ghiaccio insisted.

“Are we being trained right now? Is that why you’re yelling at us?” Illuso asked with a smirk.

“This is just how I talk!” Ghiaccio said, bringing a hand up to his temple. “Ugh, I don’t fucking know! Maybe I yelled at them? I remember being very straightforward. They seemed kind of on edge, but I just assumed that’s how they always are!” He dropped his hand and turned to look at his two teammates. “Are they really not like that on missions with you?”

“Not anymore,” Illuso said with a shrug. “At first a bit, but they’re pretty reliable now.”

“You’ve got to go slow with them. They’re easily set off, but if they know they can count on you they’re able to push through it,” Formaggio said.

“My stand is invincible and I never even let the guy near them. There’s no one better suited for watching someone’s blind spot than me,” Ghiaccio said with his hand splayed out on his chest.

“I mean, like… emotionally,” Formaggio said, scratching the back of his head. “If I was to put myself in their headspace I’d say they probably think you hate them.”

“I don’t hate them,” Ghiaccio spat loudly.

“Good! Now step two is letting them know that,” Illuso said, clapping a hand on Ghiaccio’s back, causing his glasses to slide down his nose.

Ghiaccio grumbled and pushed his glasses back up. He knew that things were weird between the two of you ever since your mission, but it never even crossed his mind it was because of something he said. Is this what Prosciutto felt like training Pesci? But even Pesci had never been avoidant or scared of Prosciutto for all the tough love that he gave him. Pesci looked up to him like an older brother.

If he was really the only one in all of La Squadra that you were uncomfortable around, then he supposed it was on him now to figure out why.

---

The base was pretty quiet today, with a lot of missions landing on Risotto’s desk this week. While you were quite fond of your new teammates you liked having the common area all to yourself on a quiet evening, especially if you were curled up with a novel. When you first started living at the base it felt like a luxury, but even after you had gotten used to the quiet its novelty hadn’t worn off for you.

The sound of a key jingling at the front door had you peeking over your book. When Ghiaccio appeared framed by the living room entrance you held your breath. Hopefully he’d be going upstairs… no, it looked like he was coming into the common area. That’s okay, you could move, so you started standing up, except… he was looking right at you, heading in your direction.

“Sit down,” he said stiffly, and after a beat he added, “Please?”

“Uhh! Okay!” you said, sitting back down and bringing your book right back up to cover your face.

“Can you also, uh. Please. Put the book down?” Ghiaccio said, his voice strained to maintain a monotone and flatten out any inflection. You did as he asked, although you still couldn’t meet his eyes, and he just stared at you awkwardly.

“Uh-”

“Hello,” he said, and it left his mouth at the exact same time your muttered exclamation had. Another awkward pause.

“Hi?” you said, unsure. This wasn’t what you were expecting from your next conversation with the man, for as long as you had postponed it. You thought he’d be demanding to know why you were ignoring him, or getting on your case about being too sensitive to handle his criticism on your last mission. Maybe that was yet to come?

“You are afraid of me,” Ghiaccio stated flatly. Then perhaps he realized he wanted to ask it as a question. “Yes?”

“Oh, no, I’m…” you muttered.

“Of course you are,” he said quickly, cutting you off before you could mumble out an excuse. You got pretty embarrassed by that, but you swallowed and moved your eyes up to gauge his expression. He didn’t look angry, but he looked hyper focused to the point of distress. His lips were pressed together tightly as if he was trying to hold back from speaking again.

“I’m sorry,” you said.

“For being scared of me?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. He was being sarcastic again, wasn’t he?

“No, I… I mean… I’m sorry for,” you started, trying to think of something legitimate to actually be sorry about. “For fucking up on the mission.”

“Did fucking up on the mission really bother you that much?” he said. Not only were you stupid for fucking up the mission, but you were also stupid for letting it bother you for so long! What did he want you to say?

“No, I mean…”

But Ghiaccio cut you off with a long loud exhale. “Look, I’m not great at this kind of thing. I understand that I make you anxious, and I understand that for whatever reason it’s hard for you to talk to me, but I really can’t understand what people say unless they drop all the bullshit.” When you frowned and looked away he tried again. “Not bullshit, fuck, uh. No, not fuck... It’s just that. I need you to say exactly what you mean. I can’t tell what people are thinking unless they make it… easy for me.”

You looked back at him. Whatever he was here to talk about with you, he was trying very hard not to raise his voice. The way he was talking to you was too stilted to be anything but intentional. If he was doing this for your sake, then you would try to meet him halfway. You took a moment to think, to choose what you wanted to say carefully.

“I don’t do well with loud noises. I also… take things very personally. I’ve been worrying that you…” You took another second before committing. “...Hate me.”

He pressed his lips in a thin line again as some noise tried to escape his throat, perhaps an instinctive denial. “What about me makes you think that?”

“Well… you seemed pretty disappointed in me after the mission.”

“I was checking in with you. I wanted to make sure Prosciutto was properly training you.”

You raised an eyebrow. “But… but you sounded really angry and sarcastic.”

Ghiaccio closed his eyes and thought about that for a second. “I probably was angry, but not at you. You just fucked up on something so basic that I had to wonder if Prosciutto was actually teaching you anything useful.”

“That’s… not how you said it though,” you said, feeling defensive. “I… I know I did something dumb… but I’ve never messed up with my stand like that before. It was different on that mission.”

“Me talking to myself?” Ghiaccio asked. He had been fixating over what he said to you at the end of that mission for days now, trying to remember all the details. He recalled how you had started with one explanation, but you quickly retracted it.

“You were… so angry the entire mission,” you complained. “Everyone else is quiet on missions with me because my stand is better suited to it.”

“It wasn’t a stealth mission,” Ghiaccio countered. “We were using your stand for something different. I wasn’t even talking to you.”

“I know!” you groaned. “You weren’t trying to distract me, but when things get too loud I…”

“But you took it back. You said it wasn’t me,” Ghiaccio said, leaning forward. His voice had risen just a little, but when he noticed how you reacted to that he tensed up.

“I took it back because I was afraid of upsetting you!” you said, leaning back into the couch as far as you could. “Because when I brought it up… you were mean about it… so I took it back! I thought you were trying to tell me it was my fault, so I took the blame like I thought you wanted!”

“I was… I was asking for clarification! If I did something that caused you to fuck up then I want to know that I did so we can talk about it!” He was clenching his fists to keep his upward inflections from becoming full-blown yelling.

“None of that came across!” you complained. “Like… maybe you technically said those things, but the way you said made it come across completely different!”

“What about you? Now you’re telling me that you meant something completely different from the things you actually said to me!?”

“I-I… but I was obviously upset! I was obviously just trying to appease you!”

“How was it obvious? I thought you were upset because you fucked up! No one likes fucking up!”

“Yeah, no kidding!” You realized at this point that your own voice was starting to rise, which was making Ghiaccio raise his to match yours, and you took a deep breath before speaking calmly again. “I was upset because I was afraid.”

It was quiet again for a little while until Ghiaccio broke the silence.

“Being mean and angry comes really easy to me,” he said, running his fingers through his curls. “Even when I don’t realize it, I still am. Even if I think I’m being reasonable, people misunderstand. I’ve been so used to the others actually being able to take it that I forgot how bad it was.” He scratched at his head a bit. “I also have a hard time telling how loud I actually am until someone points it out.”

You sat there for a moment, soaking that in, before you gave a small amused huff with a half-smile on your face. “I’m not great with loud noises because of what they mean to me. Gunshots remind me of a time when I wasn’t safe… but I can protect myself now, and I have other people who will protect me too. But yelling reminds me of… how I was never good enough for anyone.” You tapped your fingers on the cover of the book on your lap and shrugged.

“I hear from the others that you’re really skilled and reliable on missions,” Ghiaccio said. “I didn’t see that from you when we worked together, but maybe that’s because I was the one who fucked up.”

“But you didn’t...” you started.

“I fucked up by not meeting you where you were at. You’re new. I don’t know you, I don’t know what you’re like. If we had talked beforehand, if I had worked with you, then you probably wouldn’t have made that mistake. I was taking the lead on that mission, it was my job to train you to use your stand in an unfamiliar circumstance. I use missions to get out all the shit that makes me angry, since I don’t need to stay quiet. You don’t work like that. You had no idea what I was yelling for. I never told you how I do things, I just expected you to brush it off like everyone else does.”

You blinked a few times. You had been pretty quick to blame yourself for your own shortcomings, but hearing him say that really recontextualized that entire mission experience. You might have fucked up, but it was now obvious that he did not hold it against you. “That’s surprisingly self-aware of you.”

He rolled his eyes and set his elbow on the couch’s armrest, plopping his head on his fist. “You don’t know me either. I’m more than a raving heartless bastard. Stuff like this… not understanding why other people think the way they do, or what I’m doing wrong… it really fucks me up. I don’t hate you. You’re a part of my family now and I genuinely want to help you get stronger. I’m sorry if I hurt you.”

Ghiaccio was nothing like you thought. He was actually really sensitive and introspective. You could tell it was hard for him to confront you like this, almost as hard as it was for you to be confronted. You appreciated that he wanted to put in the effort to have a relationship with you.

“Thank you Ghiaccio. And I’m sorry I avoided you instead of trying to talk about it like this.” You reached over and placed your hand on his shoulder with a gentle smile. He seemed taken aback by the contact, but he relaxed after a moment.

“Are we… good?” he huffed out.

“I think so!”

He let out one long exhale that seemed to go on forever. “Thank fuck,” he muttered, before turning to look at you. “Goddamn it, sorry.”

“It’s not the swearing that bothers me,” you clarified. “It’s the intention behind it. You’re… uh… fucking good, my dude.”

He let out a snort at the awkward way you said that before bringing his hand up to cover his face, looking away in embarrassment.

“Aw, no, that was cute,” you assured him, which only made it worse.

“Well, if we’re done here then I’m heading to bed,” he said, and you glanced at the clock in the living room. It had gotten pretty late. He stood up and started walking towards the stairs.

“We have a mission together again this weekend, right?” you asked, and he looked at you over his shoulder.

“Yeah,” he confirmed.

“I’m looking forward to it,” you said with as much enthusiasm as you could muster. And you meant it. “Goodnight!”

“...Night,” he said, before he disappeared around the corner.

#ghiaccio #ghiaccio x reader #jojo imagines #jjba scenarios #jjba x reader #jojo's bizarre adventure #jjba #my writing #anon

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monochrome-monarch · 5 years

Text

I made a promise that I intend to keep

Okay, so my friend @flamingkingoftheskies and I were discussing some good angst for Atlantis Days (fun fact: it was the first thing we discussed lol) and well, it's Rodorah-centric because clearly the ship doesn't have enough angst in it lol (but don't worry, we have also discussed some fluff and shitposts for it, which I'll spill in a future post).

You know how I mentioned that the Triplets remembered that they were planet conquerors and that they decided to go back to being conquerers, starting with Earth? Well, They also decided 'Hey, before we kill our now ex-friend Gojira and be the new alpha, why don't we ask Rodan to be our Beta?' Because, well, Rodan and Ghidorah are mates at this point and have children of their own. So yeah, makes sense to them that their beautiful and wonderful mate would be their Beta.

Except the thing is is that Rodan is definitely not up for murdering his best friend and Alpha and taking over the Earth for obvious reasons. Hell, he's pretty disgusted that Ghids is totally on board with murdering their best friend ("Did he mean nothing to you three!?"). Rodan tries to talk them out of it but the triplets are also trying to talk him into joining them. It goes downhill from there. Like, really downhill from there.

Okay, so basing the next scene off of these two posts by @ckret2, one of the things Ghidorah has remembered from their past is that they can apparently control people using their voice. Well, in the past, mostly roars but they can use it with their regular(?) voice. Sure, it's been a long, long time since they have used it but when dealing with Rodan, who is getting more and more agitated (and scared? They hope he isn't), it's worth the shot, right?

So, Ichi decides to use it on Rodan, Ni and San deciding to butt out for now unless Ichi could use some help. It goes smoothly, sure Rodan was getting a feeling that something was off but he starting to agree with Ichi. Yeah, taking over Earth sounds like a great idea. Yeah, he'll definitely be their Beta and they can rule together. Yeah, he's definitely up for killing Gojira and - Wait, what?

So yeah, Rodan suceeds in a wisdom saving throw or something and snaps out of it. Maybe mentioning on murdering the Alpha aka your mate's best friend wasn't such a good idea when you're trying to get your mate to join you at the Dark Side. And now said mate knows that not only do you conquer, and sometimes destroy but that doesn't happen that much, planets and want to murder his best friend but you and your brothers can apparently also mind control him and you did just that. It is certainly not helping your case.

When Rodan snapped out of it, he made a nearby volcano erupt out of sheer rage and fear which did get a lot of attention from humans and neighboring titans. So yeah, everyone's wondering what the hell is going on but well, seeing as Rodan is a disaster, they all collectively thought, "Oh, what did he do this time?" All except his friends, most especially Goji who is considering on going to check on Rodan, and Ghidorah by extension, since, clearly, something ain't right. And well, yeah, by the time Goji got to Isla de Mara, the argument had evolved into an aerial brawl, and not the fun kind, since the triplets had given up on convincing Rodan to join them but Rodan wasn't going to let them go off and kill Goji so cue Rodan attacking them.

To an outsider, they just look like they're rough housing but to someone that knows them well like Goji, it's clearly a serious fight and Goji rushes in to mediate, totally oblivious to the fact that the triplets want him dead. So, imagine the look on Goji's face when the triplets suddenly attack him, murderous looks on their faces. Luckily, Rodan is quick and immediately defends his Alpha so he can get over the shock and fight back. I'm not sure if sensing dumbassery is her sixth sense or Goji called her before confronting them but Mothra arrives to help. Rodan also fills them in on what's going on and yeah, Goji coming over was a terrible idea. Also, now it's 3 against 3 but it's still difficult as the Triplets had many years of asskicking and planet destroying experience.

So, shit gets so bad that a retreat was needed, hell Mosu had the most injuries. To buy them time to escape, Rodan stays behind and continues to fight his mates despite being clearly outmatched. It ends in Rodan losing horribly via getting shot down with a gravity blast from all three of them. Like, so bad his wings got badly damaged and maybe his volcanic armor is cracked and bleeding. If you're wondering how bad, we made some guesses as to how bad:

The orange/yellow marks are former holes and tears that got repaired by the magma

You're probably wondering: "Oh come on, Rodan and Goji were fine in the film when they got blasted" and I will say

1) Meh, just for angst

2) Goji and Rodan are two different species but I will admit that, yes, Rodan would've been able to deal with it better because he's made of volcanic rock but see number 1

3) In the film, Rodan was only hit by one blast. Here, it's three. Both at point blank.

But mostly, it's option one. Oh, don't give me that look.

So yeah, after having defeated their mate and thought to have killed him, the Triplets push back their pain and regret and set off to find Goji and Mosu, who are at Atlantis and trying to get the Atlanteans to evacuate with Anguirus helping them. Ghidorah attacks, Atlantis sinks with Anguirus dying there (maybe) and fight ends up being taken to Antartica. The triplets end up getting sealed and trapped under the ice and I'm considering having Mothra die, which explains her first appearance in KOTM. Either way, Goji is able to secure his position as Alpha but ends up losing four friends and a mate except mate will come back who knows when and three of said friends aren't exactly his friends anymore. Still really devastated, though

He goes back to Isla de Mara, hoping that Rodan is still alive and yeah, he is but seriously wounded. They chat for a bit as Goji carries Rodan up the volcano, he also tells him what happened, especially to Mothra, Anguirus and Ghidorah. Rodan is of course upset but knows it had to be done however, he still feels guilty about Mothra and Anguirus. They arrive at the peak, Rodan's children running up to him and Goji. They saw the fight. They watched their sires blast their carrier out of the sky. They thought he was dead - Rodan and Gojira try their best to calm the children. He'll be fine. He just needs to rest and recover and everything will be alright. They promise to the little ones.

Before Goji puts him inside his volcano to heal, Rodan tells him where Dagon's egg is located since he and the former Alpha had hidden the egg somewhere secret before Dagon died from his injuries.

"Promise me that you'll take good care of the kid?"

"I promise."

And Godzilla carefully places Rodan in the magma to heal. Rodan then goes into hibernation. After bidding the children goodbye, Goji then goes off to find the egg and does find it. He tries raising it alongside his son and tries his best before the Mass Hibernation started.

Millions of years later, Goji wakes up to a bunch of shattered eggshells and faded footprints indicating that the egg had hatched while he slept, his son, now full grown, still sleeping and also, the humans are noisy but also advanced. Still annoying, though. Oh, and they blow things up now. . . Great. Years later, he has to deal but eventually kill two rivals, descendents of his predecessor's killer. Five years later, his three former friends come back and well,

Millions of years later, Mothra hatches to, instead of adoring and loyal followers, strangely armored humans pointing weapons at her. One fires at her and well, just because Mothra is a child at the moment doesn't mean she can't kick ass. Sure, she does calm down upon hearing her mate's ever so familiar and comforting call but she ends up escaping when shit goes down, when dangerous humans enter and begin to kill everyone around her. Then when shit gets even worse when her three former friends come back and well, it's definitely ass-kicking time. Well, she needs to lay an egg first and then it's ass-kicking time.

Millions of years later, the triplets are rudely awaken to an explosion that frees them and the pests wearing weird armor and wielding weird weapons (San wants one of those rifle things though). It's a shame those weapons don't work on them but even then again, What is a human weapon to a gravity beam? Then their archenemy appears and well, while they manage to overpower him, which honestly proves their point on how weak he is, they decide to escape. Then as they fly away from their prison, they hear a roar, a familiar roar that they thought they will never hear again. Maybe. . . Maybe they can try again. They can be together again. They can rule this planet together, as Alpha and Beta. Hopefully. . . Then their beloved mate attacks them.

Millions of years later, Rodan wakes up to what sounds like an Alpha call, his now adult children still asleep and his volcano modified with metal and advanced technology. Not that he cares on the latter part. He wants out. And so he does and he's greeted by his patron city now looking very different and strange birds flying and blasting at him. Rodan isn't pleased with the things hitting him and reopening some minor wounds on his recently healed wings so, Rodan decides to teach some pests a lesson on how aggravating a titan is a terrible idea - Then he sees them. Deep inside, he wants to be happy to see them. It's been so long after all. But he remembers what happened. He remembers the fight. He remembers how they just attempted to murder their friends without a care about their history. He remembers the pain. Then with an enraged roar, he forgets his prey and lunges at his traitorous mates.

---

Okay, I just finally finished writing this and holy shit, this was longer and way more than I expected. Like, I was just going to tell you guys some Rodorah angst but well, never dang. Here's some more stuff about Atlantis Days, I guess.

Also, pretty sure I didnt do a good job explaining but meh.

Though, I might edit this in the future, in case I get more ideas or change my mind or something.

Edit: Wording

#godzilla #mothra #mosugoji #well a mention of it #rodan #king ghidorah #rodorah #Atlantis Days AU #also Im trying to find a way on how Ghids remembered their past and why they decided to go back to being conquerors #Though I do have an idea in mind and that sorta involves adding another character into the narrative #also the wings arent the only thing scarred #Rodan also has lichtenburg scars on his back; sides; arms and neck #also thanks to the wing injury; he isnt as fast as he used to be #he's still the fastest flyer but just not as fast as he was before the fight

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xenoshadow13 · 2 years

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That one scenario with your oc Xeno and Punk's Pico? I just have this to say: Ginger man is lucky that Xeno KNOWS him or else they would have reacted much faster there, am I right?

Putting this under a readmore cuz wow this got way longer than I intended lol.

Heh. You're absolutely correct! Pico in that what-if scenario was only able to pull off that kill because Xeno was so caught off by his sudden appearance. Xeno, up until the moment of their temporary death, had always been under the impression that Pico knew who they were.

After all, with how often Xeno has probably been mentioned by some of the others, there was no way Pico wouldn't have known who they were by this point, right? Because surely he would at least make sure to double-check on shit if he felt something was oddly familiar right?

And to be fair with them there, Pico HAD heard of them plenty of times before... but he hasn't actually SEEN them before. Yes, he does know some of their physical details but nowhere enough for him to narrow it down that the person before him was the same one that most of the crew are also friends with. Now, realization DOES click in soon afterward, but... well... let's just say that it's a good thing Zardy is around to revive Xeno, or else Pico will have to live with the fact that he had killed off someone who everyone is the same one he has often heard about from the others.

Had things been a little different, hm, maybe like Xeno recovered their composure quick enough to actually react, then things wouldn't have gone so smoothly for Pico~

Why? Because Xeno too is also dangerous~

Xeno not only does know how to use weapons AND can use most with ease, but they also can use a variety of magic too.

Oh, and they're very fast too.

So what would have happened if Xeno had managed to recover enough to actually react? Pico would've found himself slammed HARD to the ground by a very powerful Gravity/Demi spell.

Good news: the spell itself is not fatal nor does it actually kill its target.

Bad news: Xeno put so much power behind the spell in their panic that it resulted in it being more powerful than usual. Enough that Pico miiiiiiight feel more pain than usual and may or may not need to have a healing spell or two cast upon him.

Yeah, I know. Some of y'all are probably surprised that Xeno wouldn't go for the kill here. Xeno generally tries to avoid killing unless they feel they have no choice, which is why they went for a non-fatal option there.

... well okay, with how panicked Xeno would be here and how ridiculously powerful their own magic is, it's very plausible for them to give Pico quite a few broken bones in their haste to stop him, but, uh, hey, at least they didn't actually kill him!

That being said, depending on how Pico responds afterward... well, let's just say that if he tries to do the usual "sorry it's nothing personal, I was just paid to do a job" AFTER giving them details on why he's sent after them to kill?

Ooooh. Xeno would be so furious. They would outright tell Pico to fuck off with the "nothing personal" bullshit, telling him that he wouldn't have the same tune if someone were to send someone to kill him or his friends for such a petty reason. "Oh wait, what am I saying here? You probably wouldn't care at all. After all, you DID fucking accepted a contract to kill me for such a petty reason despite KNOWING that I'm friends with Keith, Morgana, AND JUST ABOUT EVERYONE ELSE!!!"

Pico @ this is probably just like "wait what" lol.

Now, Xeno still wouldn't kill Pico afterward, but they will be pretty much having a serious freakout, completely shaken up over how Pico, someone who in this scenario they hadn't known personally but was reassured repeatedly by Keith and the others that he would like them and such, was A-OK with killing them - someone who he HAD to know was friends with just about the entire crew - for such a petty reason all because money was involved.

It's rather ironic how, in this outcome, Xeno doesn't immediately forgive and forget. But to be fair here, they weren't given much chance to think about it too hard. Their sudden albeit temporary death shocked them enough to distract them from the usual "why"/"what'd I do to deserve this"/etc kinds of thoughts. The fact that Pico, in that scenario, managed to explain himself before Xeno's own mind had the chance to overthink the details helped a lot too. Oh, and admittedly experiencing death but being revived soon afterward also helped took most of the sting out of it.

But here? Where they DIDN'T die and therefore WASN'T left in a state of shock over them, well, being dead?? Yeeeaaah lol.

To be fair here, however, I think it's a completely reasonable reaction to have here.

However, because I too like good outcomes, I will say that Xeno IS willing to forgive Pico and let this go IF he makes it absolutely clear that one) he genuinely had no idea who they were and that he wouldn't have accepted the contract in the first place if he had known and two) he's sincerely apologetic for almost killing them WITHOUT being all "it wasn't personal" about it.

Yes, it's true that it wasn't personal whatsoever and, to be honest, Xeno would've been completely fine with it had they been in their right state of mind. Keyword being "in their right state of mind".

Also, I dunno about y'all, but, uh, I feel it should really go without saying that somebody telling another person that it was "nothing personal" while said person is currently having a serious breakdown over being nearly killed by them is extremely insensitive and very MUCH something you DO NOT SAY if you're genuinely sorry. Yes, it might be true, but not everyone can just brush ALMOST BEING KILLED so simply here y'know.

Oh, and almost forgot about Zardy here, but he'd still arrive onto the scene sometime later in this scenario. However, again, since I like good outcomes, I'll say that Pico had managed to calm Xeno down and be forgiven by the time the Overlord manages to arrive. Zardy would also not react anywhere as badly upon learning the news either. He'd be very baffled over HOW THE FUCK PICO WENT THIS LONG WITHOUT KNOWING WHO XENO IS but otherwise he'll let it go.

#Answered Asks #Anonymous #Xeno #Pico

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