Archive of Our Own ^beta

The dim glow of the studio lights flickered like dying stars in the vast emptiness of Kong Studios. It was one of those nights where the air hung heavy with the scent of stale cigarettes, spilled beer, and the faint metallic tang of bass strings being abused beyond reason. Murdoc Niccals lounged in his battered armchair, a throne of duct tape and faded velvet, nursing a bottle of something amber and potent. His green skin glistened with a sheen of sweat under the harsh bulbs, his mismatched eyes glinting with the kind of mischief that usually spelled trouble for everyone else.

Across from him, Stuart "2D" Pot slouched on the floor, legs splayed out like a forgotten puppet. His blue hair stuck up in wild tufts, and his black eyes, voids where pupils should be, were half-lidded in a drunken haze. He was giggling at nothing in particular, a high-pitched, infectious sound that bounced off the graffiti-covered walls. The two had been at it for hours, trading stories from their chaotic past, from the early days of Gorillaz when everything was a blur of tours, demons, and near-death experiences.

"Oi, Faceache," Murdoc slurred, pointing the neck of his bottle at 2D like a accusatory finger. "Remember that time in Tokyo when you thought the sushi was alive? You screamed like a bleedin' banshee!"

2D snorted, nearly choking on his own laughter. "Wasn't me fault! It wiggled, Muds! Proper wiggled!" He waved his hands dramatically, mimicking the offending fish. His voice, that signature Cockney lilt mixed with a perpetual daze, always softened the edges of Murdoc's sharper barbs.

Upstairs, in the quieter confines of her room, Noodle paced back and forth, her guitar slung over her shoulder like a trusty sidearm. At 27, she was no longer the wide-eyed kid who'd joined the band as a pint-sized prodigy, but the fire in her eyes hadn't dimmed. If anything, it burned brighter, fueled by a lifetime of adventures with these three lunatics she called family. Tonight, though, she was plotting. A prank. The kind that would go down in Gorillaz lore.

Russel Hobbs leaned against the doorframe, his massive frame filling the space like a guardian statue. He watched Noodle with a mix of amusement and caution. At 47, he'd seen enough chaos to know when to intervene, and when to let it ride. "You sure about this, Noods? Murdoc's got a temper like a lit fuse, and 2D... well, he's 2D. Might not end well."

Noodle grinned, her teeth flashing white against her olive skin. Her purple hair, cropped short and edgy, bobbed as she nodded. "That's the point, Russ! They're downstairs, pissed out of their minds. We slip some cheap rings on their fingers, and boom, they wake up thinking they've tied the knot in a drunken stupor. Can you imagine Murdoc's face? He'll freak!"

Russel chuckled, a deep rumble that shook his broad shoulders. He wasn't one for pranks usually, too much drama in his life already, but Noodle's enthusiasm was contagious. And honestly, after all the crap Murdoc had pulled over the years, a little payback sounded sweet. "Alright, alright. But we're keepin' it light. No harm done."

They'd already scouted the rings earlier that day. A quick trip to a dingy second-hand shop in the bowels of London, where dusty shelves groaned under the weight of forgotten treasures. Noodle had picked out two plain silver bands, nothing fancy, just tarnished loops that screamed "impulse buy." They cost a fiver each, and the shopkeeper had eyed them suspiciously, muttering something about "young love" under his breath.

Now, with the plan in motion, they crept downstairs like ninjas in the night. The studio was a mess: empty bottles scattered like fallen soldiers, amps humming faintly in the background, and the faint strum of an unfinished riff looping on Murdoc's laptop. 2D and Murdoc were out cold, Murdoc snoring like a chainsaw in his chair, 2D sprawled across the rug, one arm flung over his eyes.

Noodle suppressed a giggle as she approached. "Shh, Russ. You take Murdoc, I'll handle D."

Russel nodded, his large hands surprisingly gentle as he slipped the ring onto Murdoc's gnarled finger. The bassist mumbled something incoherent, probably a curse, and shifted, but didn't wake. Noodle did the same for 2D, the cool metal sliding easily over his knuckle. She paused, admiring her handiwork. The rings looked almost... real. Like they belonged there.

"Done," she whispered, high-fiving Russel. "Now we wait for the fireworks."

They retreated upstairs, collapsing into fits of laughter once safely out of earshot. "They're gonna lose it," Noodle said, wiping tears from her eyes. "Murdoc'll blame 2D, 2D'll panic, classic."

Russel shook his head, smiling. "Just hope they don't kill each other first."

Little did they know, the joke was already turning on its head. Because Murdoc and 2D? They weren't just bandmates. Or friends. Or even lovers in the casual sense. No, they'd been married for years. Five, to be exact. A secret ceremony in a seedy Las Vegas chapel during one of their American tours, fueled by tequila and a rare moment of vulnerability. No rings, Murdoc hated the symbolism, called it "trite bourgeois nonsense", and no announcements. It was their thing, private amid the public madness of Gorillaz life.

But secrets have a way of bubbling up, especially when pranks are involved.

The morning sun pierced through the grimy windows of Kong Studios like accusatory fingers, stabbing at Murdoc's eyelids until he groaned and stirred. His head throbbed like a bass drum in overdrive, mouth tasting of ash and regret. "Bloody hell," he muttered, sitting up in his chair. His body ached from the awkward position, joints popping like gunfire.

Across the room, 2D was already stirring, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. "Mornin', Muds," he yawned, voice scratchy. "Feels like I got hit by a lorry."

Murdoc grunted in agreement, flexing his fingers to work out the stiffness. That's when he felt it, the unfamiliar weight on his left ring finger. He glanced down, blinking in confusion. A plain silver band gleamed dully in the light. "What the-? When did I get this?"

2D, noticing Murdoc's stare, looked at his own hand. There it was, matching ring and all. His black eyes widened, not in horror, but in mild surprise. "Oh. Rings. Huh." He twisted it around, admiring the way it caught the light. "They're nice, though. Simple. I like 'em."

Murdoc stared at 2D, then back at his hand. A slow grin crept across his face, revealing jagged teeth. "You daft sod. We've been hitched for ages, and now we've got rings? Bit late for that, innit?"

2D chuckled, a light, airy sound that cut through the hangover fog. "Yeah, but... when did we get 'em? Last night? I don't remember buyin' anythin'."

Murdoc shrugged, leaning back. "Must've been blackout drunk. Doesn't matter. Suits us, don't it? Makes it official-like, even if we already are."

They shared a look, one of those silent conversations built from years of shared chaos. No panic. No accusations. Just acceptance, laced with amusement.

Upstairs, Noodle and Russel were eavesdropping from the landing, expecting explosions. Shouts. Maybe some thrown furniture. Instead... this? Casual chit-chat about liking the rings?

"What the hell?" Noodle whispered, her brow furrowed. "They're not freaking out. They're... chill?"

Russel frowned. "This ain't right. Murdoc should be rantin' by now."

They exchanged glances, the prank's foundation crumbling. Noodle bit her lip. "We gotta confess. Before it gets weirder."

Down they went, feigning innocence as they entered the studio. "Morning, guys," Noodle said brightly, too brightly. "How's the head?"

Murdoc eyed them suspiciously, but 2D just waved. "Achey. But look! We got rings somehow." He held up his hand like a kid showing off a new toy.

Russel cleared his throat. "Uh, about that..."

Noodle couldn't hold it in. "Okay, fine! It was us. We put 'em on you last night. As a prank. To make you think you'd gotten married or somethin'."

There. Out in the open. Now for the backlash.

But instead of anger, Murdoc burst out laughing, a guttural, wheezing cackle that echoed off the walls. 2D joined in, doubling over until tears streamed down his face.

"You... you what?" Murdoc gasped, clutching his sides. "You thought that'd prank us? Us?"

Noodle blinked, confused. "Wait, you're not mad?"

2D wiped his eyes. "Nah, it's brilliant! But... we're already married. Have been for years."

The room fell silent. Russel stared. Noodle's jaw dropped. "What?"

Murdoc smirked, twirling the ring on his finger. "Vegas, 2020. Quickie wedding. No fuss, no muss. Kept it quiet 'cause, well, none of your business."

2D nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah! Elvis officiated. Proper surreal."

Noodle sank onto the couch, processing. "But... no rings? No tellin' us?"

" Rings are for show," Murdoc said dismissively. "We don't need 'em to know we're stuck together."

Russel chuckled, shaking his head. "Well, damn. Joke's on us, then."

The four of them dissolved into laughter, the tension melting away like morning mist. What started as a prank became a bridge, pulling their makeshift family tighter.

But let's rewind a bit, because secrets like this don't just happen overnight. It all started back in 2020, during the height of the pandemic lockdown. Gorillaz had been holed up in Kong Studios, the world outside a ghost town. Tours canceled, albums delayed, boredom set in like rot.

Murdoc, ever the schemer, had dragged 2D to Vegas on a whim. "Need a change of scenery, Dullard," he'd growled, chartering a private jet under the guise of "inspiration hunting." 2D, ever the follower, went along, excited by the promise of neon lights and slot machines.

They'd ended up in a chapel at 3 AM, both sloshed on cheap champagne. It wasn't planned, Murdoc proposed it as a joke, but 2D's earnest "Yeah, alright" sealed it. Elvis impersonator warbling "Love Me Tender," vows mumbled through giggles. No rings exchanged; Murdoc pocketed the certificate, and that was that.

Back home, they kept it under wraps. Noodle was off on her own adventures, Russel dealing with his inner demons (literally). Telling them felt... unnecessary. Their relationship was a tangled mess anyway, fights, makeups, the occasional zombie apocalypse. Marriage was just paperwork.

But over the years, it deepened. Murdoc's barbs softened (slightly), 2D's confidence grew. They shared quiet moments amid the noise: late-night jams, shared cigarettes on the roof, whispered confessions in the dark.

Noodle, oblivious, had always suspected something. The way Murdoc's eyes lingered on 2D during rehearsals, how 2D defended Murdoc no matter what. But marriage? That was a plot twist.

Back in the present, the laughter died down, leaving a comfortable silence. Noodle fiddled with her guitar strings, still reeling. "So... why no rings before?"

Murdoc shrugged. "Didn't need 'em. But these?" He held up his hand. "Might keep 'em. For sentiment's sake."

2D beamed. "Yeah! Matches me eyes... or lack thereof."

Russel clapped Murdoc on the back, gently, lest he break the brittle bassist. "Congrats, I guess. Belated."

Noodle grinned, the prankster in her already plotting redemption. "This calls for celebration. Breakfast? My treat."

They piled into the Geep, Kong Studios receding in the rearview. Over greasy diner food, stories flowed. Murdoc regaled them with Vegas details, the bad Elvis wig, the ring bearer who was actually a stuffed gorilla. 2D added his hazy recollections, painting a picture of chaotic romance.

"So, no honeymoon?" Russel asked, munching on pancakes.

Murdoc smirked. "Every day's a honeymoon with this lot. Chaos included."

Noodle raised her coffee mug. "To secrets revealed, and better pranks next time."

They clinked, the rings on Murdoc and 2D's fingers catching the light. What could have been a disaster became a bond, stronger than silver.

But Noodle wasn't done. As they drove back, she whispered to Russel, "Next time, something bigger. Fake divorce papers?"

Russel groaned. "You're incorrigible."

And so, life in Gorillaz rolled on, pranks, music, madness. With rings now glinting as reminders.