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crescenthistory · 13 days ago

Note

2K IS SO WELL DESERVED 💓💓

Please could you analyse a relationship (maybe how it starts/people finding out) between barty and potter!reader or black sister!reader 💓

thank you kindly sweetheart<33 i did poly!bartylus x potter!reader here, so i'm choosing the noble house of black scenario here lols. i loved this one so much, especially dynamic 2, so someone feel free to request a full version once i open my regular requests 🙂↕️🙂↕️

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i will ANALYSE barty crouch jr. with black!sister!reader

carina's 2k celebration

✶・•・✦・•・✶・✶・•・✦・•・✶

cw: reference to walburga and orion's excellent parenting (abuse), fem!reader, sibling troubles, precocious barty

regulus was barty's first best friend and he is fiercely loyal to him, to a fault

however, he is loyal within barty's own moral compass, which, as we know, is a quite unique one

meaning he is "if i see you jumping someone, i'm jumping them with you, no questions asked" loyal and "if you are upset, it is my sworn duty to make you feel different" but he is NOT "your sister is off limits loyal"

which they both find out randomly one day, more or less like this:

"salazar's soggy balls, your sister is proper fit"

"EXCUSE ME?"

queue regulus whacking barty like he's a dog getting reprimanded while barty shrieks and yells some incoherent excuse like "what? she is???"

how it goes from there depends on which dynamic you have with the black brothers

i see two primary ones:

you were either really close with regulus and thus have a more problematic but still close relationship with sirius

OR you really looked up to sirius, which made regulus distance himself for you for periods of time

(the latter one prompts much more angst in the getting together process, naturally – in a good way)

DYNAMIC 1 (regulus centred)

if you and regulus are really close, you would be brought into the slytherin skittles from the get go and thus would have a friends to lovers arc with barty

after regulus whacked barty for drooling over "my baby sister" (you're like. eleven months younger than him.), he keeps an eye on barty

i think barty frankly would not care at all and would continue flirting with you unabashedly

"when have i ever let reg dictate my love/dating/sex life before?"

though he would be saving the more salacious comments for when regulus isn't around

and trust that he would be pursuing spending time with you when regulus isn't around – once he got hung up on you it's almost like a compulsive tic, he just has to be close to you

you would probably be the only one having any moral qualms about it, wondering how regulus would feel and how things might change

as a black sister, you would likely feel like everything good in your life is a hair width's away from falling apart and live in constant fear of that while trying to remain nonchalant

yet barty's pull towards you is far from one-sided – he gives you that calmness in the chaos and chaos in calmness that you craved

only when you nearly have your first kiss in a hallway and you pull away last second talking "what about regulus?" do i think it might register with barty that he could genuinely be upsetting his best friend

prompt the always direct barty more or less marching into his dorm he shares with regulus and evan, declaring: "regulus arcturus black, i love your sister. you have no right giving out blessings, but would you please get behind this, it's upsetting her."

it would be a ROUGH conversation, but regulus knows both of you well enough to know when you're being serious about something

and barty was being deadly serious

after they've talked it through and regulus has said something along the lines of "as long as you promise it's not just a shag, then sure, be my guest. but i want to hear NONE of it", i think he would make a beeline to gryffindor

to find sirius, of course, for once daring seek out his older brother's advice, because it's for their "better third"

"sirius, i need you to calm yourself and not be mad at them because i genuinely need your advice"

it took a LOT of schooling his face for sirius to not rip his eyeballs out at the mention that barty is interested in you, but he kept calm, for regulus

he could tell that he needed it

they talked it all out

it genuinely made regulus feel better and more secure in it, but the second he left the room, sirius turned around crying to james in the exact same way

queue sirius pulling barty aside the next day to borderline threaten him to not mistreat you

and for YOU to then pull SIRIUS aside and have an angsty sibling confrontation of "is it more important to you to go to him first and be all protective, instead of to me and offer any support or congratulations?"

i think regardless of if you have a troubled relationship for a while, he still sees you as his whole world; something to take care of

so he would nod his head, properly reprimanded and give you the first hug you've shared in a while

barty is by FAR sirius' least favourite in-law and barty adoreeeees that fact, loving to rub it in

you'll have to gently be like "babe, please" to have him calm down and not agitate sirius (and by consequence regulsu) too much

it was chaotic but just right

DYNAMIC 2 (sirius centred)

you grew up always looking up to sirius – he's three years older, so the perfect age for you to think everything he does is so cool

you were still relatively young when everything went down with sirius and walburga, so you had a slightly more coloured image and fuzzy memories surrounding the abuse at home

less resentment, more uncertainty towards your parents while still idolising sirius, at least for a while

i think sirius in any dynamic considers his sister his "baby" to some degree, partly because you were the youngest, partly because of his upbringing presenting women as someone to be taken care of – and largely because you let him baby you, unlike regulus

you saw sirius as more of an authority figure than you ever did regulus and he always felt safer than your parents, so when you had nightmares as a child, sirius was the one who could soothe you the best

when you were anxious, he was the one who could talk you out of it, tether you to the earth

sirius saw you as more innocent and less tainted than him, so you could in return make him feel a bit better, a bit more like he had a purpose

i think this dynamic would make regulus very resentful of the both of you

yet another example of him being the second option, of him not measuring up, etc. -> in regards to both you and sirius

in regulus' mind, you were the better younger sibling and sirius was the better older sibling – regulus was alone

so he isolated himself more and more from the both of you as he grew up in a misguided act of self-protection

to the extent that when you started hogwarts, you were never introduced to his friends

i think they asked about you when you finally started hogwarts, but he brushed it aside so assertively that they dropped it

this is in stark contrast to sirius' marauders who happily brought you along more often than not

you were not really a part of their friend group, more so that you became everyone's honorary little sister while you established yourself your own good friends within your house and year

sirius would meet you at every breakfast, even if only to ruffle your hair and kiss your head while you groaned, embarrassing you in front of your friends

you knew of who regulus' friends were and you saw him around often, but it had been made clear to you not to engage

i think it would be the kind of situation where regulus implied you stay away, which hurt you and made you stay away, which in turn hurt him – the cycle goes on

so you never really got to know them beyond their reputations and sirius' complaints about them

until around your fifth year when you would meet barty in some capacity (same class because you were excelling above your year, same secluded area of hogsmeade, etc.)

you hit it off massively, bantering back and forth in a way that makes barty feel both challenged and seen

his interest is piqued

after which is when he makes the comment to regulus about how he finds you "proper fit"

this time, regulus loses his mind over it not because it's his baby sister, but because of his resentment, jealousy and even fear that you would be taking someone else away from him

he would not be making sense to barty, reverting back to his younger and more hurt self before stalking off

if barty, evan or even dorcas tried to bring it up to regulus afterwards, he would just say "let's not talk about her/them" curtly

he only spoke to pandora about it and she kept quiet to the others, respecting his space and boundaries

in this instance, it would be clear to barty that his interest in you was not okay, but it didn't subside

on the contrary, it only continued blazing and he kept meeting you often, mostly by coincidence – but he stayed on purpose

you think nothing much of it before regulus angirly stalks up to you when he sees you chatting in the hallway, roughly grabs your arm to haul you away and whispers something along the lines of "you have sirius. you got sirius, you can't take barty too"

queue massive sibling fight that barty eventually has to get involved in, ignoring the sound of his breaking heart

while you often ignored each other, the tension that arose between you and regulus was now palpable and uncomfortable

you were hurt regulus viewed you the way he did and always competed with you – why did he care so much for sirius' love and not yours?

regulus was hurt because he felt abandoned yet again – both by barty, but also you because he loved you and missed you

having no idea what to do, i think barty would be forced to do the one thing he had sworn to himself, any god he occasionally spoke to and regulus he would never do:

he willingly went to speak with sirius black

"believe me, i don't want to do this any more than you do, but i don't think they can get over this on their own"

i think barty might be able to articulate how regulus feels like the "odd one out" of the siblings and show sirius that regulus' standoffishness is just years of pain schooled away and not him being an aloof bother

which sirius knows but has never been able to work past regardless, not before it was presented to him like this

and while sirius would still be disturbed by it, i think this might be the only way to make him understand that barty loves you – because there was no other word but love for the pull he felt towards you, the emptiness he felt without you

the two of them would plot and scheme to get you and regulus in the same room at the same time, locking all four of you inside

when they begin to try and start a civil conversation, you and regulus are on the offensive and hostile

it is when you burst out something along the lines of "why do you hate me?" that regulus' face falls

"i could never hate you."

it would be an even rougher talk, but you are able to understand each other's pain at last

"i never meant to take him away from you, i never meant to take anything away from you. i just want to be part of your life again."

"it's never felt like i deserve a spot in your life, though. like you want me there."

"regulus there is not a day that i don't wish you were sat beside me."

loooooooong awaited hug

barty and sirius would have stepped back as mediators once the first realisation set in between you, watching while leaning on a desk from afar, feeling oddly united for a moment

at last, regulus would murmur: "do you love him"

you looked at barty for a long time before looking back to regulus with a quivering lip, despite knowing the answer

"only if you'll let me. only if you'll be okay with it."

and though a part of him might still be scared and kicking and screaming, he would use all of his big brother love to pull you close, kiss you on the forehead and whisper repeatedly "it's alright, it's alright. i'm sorry, it's alright."

barty held it together well for regulus' sake, but the second he was left alone with you he swept you up in the closest embrace

"i'm so proud of you"

not only are you the most compelling, bewitching, well, witch he had ever met, but you seemed to be the one person capable of piecing his best friend back together

went through hell to be a match made in heaven

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imbadatwrighting · 1 month ago

Text

Dean on the phone with winchester!reader: Oh, hi. Whoa, whoa, whoa, sweetie, hold on. Slow down, you’re talking crazy, honey… Okay, okay, just sit tight. I’m coming over.

Sam: What’s wrong?

Dean: y/n’s having a hard first day at her new school, and she’s gonna dropout.

Sam: Dean, that’s her thing. She goes to a new school and threatens to quit after one day.

Dean: You know what? You’re right. Maybe this time, I should let her figure it out for herself.

Sam: …you’re grabbing your keys, and you’re putting on your jacket.

#source: bob's burgers #cue dean running out of the motel to get you #protective big brother dean 🫶#x reader #platonic #supernatural #sam winchester #dean winchester #supernatural x reader #spn #sam winchester x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x sister!reader #sam winchester x sister!reader #supernatural incorrect quotes #supernatural family

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ak319 · 3 months ago

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I absolutely love your yandere Arthur stuff- though I really have the curiosity to see him suffer. I was wondering how he'd go about if the reader, in a desperate attempt to escape, ended up getting really really hurt (if she survived or not, up to you.. but make it real heart shattering please)

Thank you and keep being awesome!!

(AN: So, I got two asks (TW) relating to suicide and the other two I added cuz I thought they lined perfectly with the plot that came to my mind. So saddle up as this is going to be a tough one, do read the warnings, and also thank you to all the anons for reading and sending the asks!)

Warnings/MDNI: Suicide, angst, forced prostitution, the reader is underage. (15-16), not incest, strictly platonic, abuse// I don't condone such behaviour

It had been almost a week since you’d run, from everything that had suffocated you. An older woman in her 50s, a widow with two married daughters, had found you and decided to give you shelter. You couldn’t have been more grateful to Linda, and you even felt for her, living alone in a small house with only her animals for company. What you hadn’t expected, perhaps in your own naivety and desperation, was that choices made in haste often became someone else’s chance to shape their own life for the better.

You were dusting off a vase when you noticed two men approaching the fence on horseback. Anxiety bubbled in your stomach. Even the faint sound of hooves and the sight of those hats stirred reminders of your brother, of the camp, memories Linda knew well by now.

“Linda, there are people outside,” you said, voice tight with unease. She looked up from her book, her expression unreadable as she rose. With an air of certainty, as if she’d anticipated this, she opened the door without even glancing to see who they were.

“Good mornin’, Miss Linda.”

The men stepped inside, their eyes sweeping over the small room before landing on you, a young girl, untouched as they were told, standing tensely in the corner, cloth in hand.

“Is she the one?”

“Yes. Her name’s (Y/N),” Linda replied without hesitation, her tone strangely casual.

Your eyebrows knitted in confusion. “Um, Miss Linda?” you murmured, hoping for some explanation. But when you looked at her, the warmth she’d shown when she’d found you, empty-handed and alone, was nowhere to be found.

As their conversation continued, realization dawned painfully fast. This wasn’t an innocent meeting. She had sold you, to men who clearly had no good intentions.

“NO!” you shouted, thrashing as one of them seized you, his grip iron-tight. Panic surged through you as you struggled, tears stinging your eyes.

“HOW COULD YOU DO THIS? LINDA!” you screamed, your voice cracking. “You have daughters of your own!” But the other man quickly moved to hold you down, binding your wrists as dread washed over you. No, this can’t be real, you thought, desperately praying for a miracle, for anything.

“I don’t have daughters,” Linda replied flatly, her gaze fixed on the money roll they handed her. “I live alone. You fell right into my trap, girly, this is what I do for a living.” She didn’t even look up as they gagged you, ignoring your cries and pleas as they dragged you from her house, indifferent to your terror.

⋆⋆⋆

It had been three months since they’d dragged you into this unfamiliar place, surrounded by strangers with cold eyes and colder hearts.It was useless no matter how much you begged or how hard you fought. The punishments, the beatings, the days locked away in dank cellars, became too much to bear.

"It's always a fun challenge to tame young ones like you,"

Eventually, the fight drained out of you. Bit by bit, you surrendered. You gave up on freedom, on dignity, on every cherished memory. You tried to convince yourself it wasn’t giving up, that they had taken it from you. But deep down, you knew the people around you would laugh at that. A woman, giving in? As if you’d ever had a choice.

Even if... even if your brother somehow found you, what would he say? If he saw you here, saw all that had happened, would he forgive you for running away? He will, he will because you're the only one he has left. It was a lie you whispered to yourself just to make it through the endless nights.

But still, despite everything, you prayed. Prayed that somehow he’d find you, that he’d come and take you back. That he’d see past the shame, past the bruises and broken pieces, and remember the sister you used to be. You clung to that thin thread of hope, fragile as it was, because it was the only thing left that still felt like yours.

⋆⋆⋆

Arthur hadn’t had a moment’s peace since you disappeared. The guilt and fury festered into a dark cloud over him, filling every waking moment. Every step, every job he took on, only seemed to twist the knife deeper, because how could he even think about anything else while you were out there alone?

He lashed out at everyone. Every misstep or delay was another reminder that they’d failed to keep you safe, to keep you close. It stung him that no one had been there, that Dutch’s assurances and promises meant so little when it came down to it. The camp members bore the brunt of his fury, his paranoia that they might’ve even helped you leave simmering just beneath the surface. And though they knew better than to push back, they held their patience, trying to calm him, even if it was like talking to a wall. How could these people not take care of you? It was the only thing he had asked Dutch for in exchange for giving his all, his best with his every breath.

Still, he couldn’t rest. Every day he pushed himself, scanning faces in crowded towns, following trails that led nowhere. He’d never admit it, but he was scared, scared of what might’ve happened to you. He wouldn’t be satisfied until he saw you for himself, safe and within the bounds of camp again.

⋆⋆⋆

It was one of those days where Chief, the man who forced you to call him that, as if it somehow dignified his cruelty, had you paraded through saloons to attract new customers. The older, more experienced girls absorbed most of the men’s attention, giving you brief respites where you could linger near the corners, gaze averted, trying not to see or be seen. This was your coping mechanism: be present but remain hidden, fading into the shadows, preserving the last shreds of yourself.

Chief rarely paid attention to your position; he was usually too engrossed in gambling or drinking with his cronies to notice. So long as you didn’t step out of line or attempt an escape, an impossible feat with his guards stationed outside, he didn’t care where you lingered. For these few stolen moments, you could almost feel invisible, protected by the wall at your back and the murmur of unfamiliar voices.

And then, out of the corner of your eye, you saw him.

Charles. Right there, across the room. Your heart thundered, your breath catching in your throat. He was here, and the realization struck you like a blow. You must’ve stared too long because his eyes landed on you, recognition dawning in his gaze. You could see his shock twist into something harder, his face darkening as he took in your presence here.

His eyes were locked onto you, and he rose from his seat, his gaze sharp and unyielding, scanning every inch of you with a dawning recognition. Each step he took made your heart pound harder, a mix of disbelief and terror twisting in your chest. You couldn’t move, couldn’t even breathe, as you pressed yourself further against the wall, as though it might somehow swallow you up.

“(Y/N)...?”

His voice was low, laced with disbelief and something that almost sounded like relief, but there was no mistaking the tremor in it. Your throat tightened, and a thousand unspoken words tangled there, as if your body itself was rejecting the reality of being found.

You opened your mouth, but nothing came out. Your tongue felt heavy, paralyzed by shame and fear. The silence was broken by Chief, who was now at your side oblivious to the storm brewing, chuckled and tightened his hand on your shoulder. "This is Cherry, my newest one. One of the youngest, too," he taunted, a sick grin spreading across his face. "Would you like a taste, sir?"

Charles didn’t hesitate. In an instant, he was on Chief, his fists swinging. You watched as Charles’s rage took over, each blow landing harder than the last, rendering Chief into a bloody, unrecognizable heap. The noise and chaos around you faded, replaced by a surreal, dreamlike silence.

You wanted to move, to say something, anything, but shock held you frozen. The reality was hitting you all at once, Charles had found you. After all this time, your prayers have finally been answered. But along with the relief, dread crept in. Charles was here, yes, but what about Arthur?

Arthur. The thought of facing him filled you with a hollow, bone-deep fear. What would he say? What would he do when he saw you like this?

“Arthur’s been looking for you. Day and night, he’s been looking. And he’s… well, you know how he is.” He paused, his gaze turning serious. “But he needs to see you. Needs to know you’re safe.”

"I--can't....Charles," he was the second after Arthur whom you called a brother, if this was your condition in front of him, you dreaded facing your real one.

"He...will --no, please." No, this wasn't how it was supposed to be, you should have been happy to go.

"The hell I am leaving you here!"

"Charles, no, you don’t understand!" you protested, your voice trembling as you recoiled slightly from his touch. “Arthur… he’ll be furious! He’ll-”

“He’ll be furious if he finds out you’re here, too,” Charles interjected, his tone sharp yet laced with concern. “But I can’t leave you here. You deserve better than this.”

You nodded slowly, still numb, letting him lead you outside, where the guards who usually kept watch were already scattered, backing off after seeing Charles’s wrath. He didn’t let you go, staying close as he guided you through the quiet streets.

With a final glance back at the saloon, you took his hand, feeling a mix of fear and gratitude surge through you. As you climbed onto the horse behind him, the reality of what lay ahead crashed over you like a wave.

⋆⋆⋆

All the guilt and frustration that Arthur had felt at himself and the others had now morphed into a seething fury. He could barely contain the storm brewing inside him as he stood there, fists clenched, watching Charles bring you back to camp. You stood behind him, your head bowed, and he could feel the weight of your shame even from a distance.

When Charles, with his broken and hesitant words, explained where you had been and what you had endured , Arthur felt a rush of bile rise in his throat. Hearing that you had been forced into such a degrading life, turning into a whore, no less in front of the whole camp, set off a wildfire of rage within him. It felt as if every cell in his body was screaming, torn between the desire to protect you and the urge to just shoot you and then himself.

“Why…?” he managed to croak out, his voice barely above a whisper, but the intensity of his gaze was like fire. You could only let out a whimper, too overwhelmed by shame and fear to answer.

“Arthur... it's not (Y/N)'s fault-” Charles began, trying to explain the circumstances, but Arthur cut him off sharply, the anger bubbling over.

“I AM ASKING HER, CHARLES, SO SHUT YOUR MOUTH! I ASKED YOU SOMETHING!” His voice thundered across the camp, startling the others who had gathered to witness the confrontation.

Silence fell over the clearing, all eyes on you as Arthur took a step forward, his expression a mix of pain and fury. You flinched, feeling the heat of his anger radiating off him like a tangible force.

Your heart pounded in your chest, a rabbit caught in the glare of a predator. You could see the way his fists trembled, the way his jaw clenched, and it terrified you. “I---I didn’t mean to,” you stammered, "I am s-sorry...please."

Annabelle, having enough interjected. "Let the child breathe Arthur! You are scaring her for no fucking reason! You should be happy she's been found you dumbass!"

“Stay out of this, Annabelle!” Arthur snapped, the violence in his tone making everyone around him tense. “You don’t know what she’s done. You don’t know how she’s made me suffer!”

Hosea, who had been observing quietly, spoke up as well, attempting to de-escalate the situation. “Arthur, we need to think this through. She’s back now, that’s what matters-”

But before Hosea could finish, Dutch stepped in, his voice commanding. “Enough! This isn’t helping anyone. Arthur, take a breath. We’ll sort this out, but you need to calm down.”

Arthur’s fury seemed to intensify, the frustration boiling over. “Calm down!?” he spat, eyes dark with rage. “She thinks she can run away from me, become a whore and come back like nothing happened? I’m not letting her off that easy!”

With a sudden, swift movement, he seized your arm, dragging you towards a nearby tent. You stumbled, panic rising within you as you felt the grip of his hand, the anger radiating off him like heat from a fire.

“Arthur, please!” you cried, but he didn’t respond, his jaw set in a hard line as he pulled you along, ignoring the protests from Annabelle and Hosea.

"If anyone comes near me, I am gonna gut em' alive!"

“Arthur, think about what you’re doing!” Annabelle called after you, her voice strained with concern. “You can’t just take her away like this-” Dutch silenced her with holding her shoulders. "Don't you dare go near him! He's not in his senses-"

"SO GO AND STOP HIM!"

But he was already inside the tent, and the flap fell shut behind you with a heavy finality. The moment you were alone, he released you, stepping back with a mixture of anger and desperation. “Why would you do this to me? To us?” he demanded, his voice low and intense.

You backed away and fell onto the cot. "Just...just listen and I'll explain-

"Oh really? Did you enjoy your adventures? See, I was right. This is what they fuckin' taught you , what that bitch Anne, taught you. That fuckin' school!" He grabbed you by your jaw to make you face him. That's when you saw the tint of hurt in his eyes.

“You think this is a joke? I’m a joke? You fuckin’ ran our family’s name, my name, into the mud. I can’t even--” He threw you back onto the bed, the impact rattling through your bones. “I can’t even look at you right now.”

“Arthur, I’m still me,” you whispered, through sobs. “I’m still.... your sister."

"IF YOU WERE YOU WOULD HAVE LISTENED TO ME AND STAYED HERE!"

He was right, you should have listened and stayed here, chasing your dreams only led you to more nightmares and even now, it seems there are more to face.

You could barely catch your breath, your heart pounding in your chest as you scrambled to find words that might bridge the chasm between you. Taking a shaky breath, you wiped the tears from your cheeks.

"You should be lucky I haven't shot you yet. If I was the one who found you, God knows what I would have done. Stay in this fucking tent until I say so, and don’t show me your face." His voice was low and dangerous, a growl that reverberated through the air like a thunderclap.

You flinched at his words, the truth of them hitting you like a slap. You had been trying to convince yourself that you were still worthy, still, the same person who had left the camp. But standing in front of him, the reality crashed down. You were not that person anymore, and you didn’t know how to return to her.

⋆⋆⋆

Annabelle and the others came to check on you, their voices a distant murmur as if they were speaking through water. You barely registered their presence, lost in a maze of your thoughts, every path leading back to Arthur’s harsh words. What had you expected from him? A comforting embrace? A gentle reminder that you were still his sister, despite everything?

You couldn't help but wonder if you were truly as heinous as he implied. Were you still his blood even? The questions tormented you, each one sharper than the last. You knew the truth of his overprotectiveness, it stemmed from love, from a desire to shield you from the dangers of the world. Yet here you were, the very thing he had feared, tainted by your stubborn quest for freedom and adventure.

Pushing the flap of his tent aside just enough to peek in, you caught sight of him, his back turned to you, oblivious to your presence. Just like he turned his back today on you. Funny.

With a deep breath, you stepped inside and placed the note in his satchel, the fabric brushing against your fingertips feeling heavier than it should.

You took one last glance at your brother, the weight of your choices pressing down on your heart, then slipped out of the tent, moving stealthily toward the supply wagon

When you retrieved what you needed, you returned to the privacy of your tent, the familiar space feeling more suffocating than ever. You sank onto the cot, the cold metal of the weapon glimmering in the bits of moonlight that managed to seep through the fabric.

Taking your time, you pondered everything that had brought you to this moment. You searched desperately for a glimmer of hope, but all you found were dead ends. Before returning with Charles, you had imagined a future where your brother might forgive you, where he could overlook the darkness of the past and allow you both to move on, forgetting the pain that had laced your life. You were even ready to let go of the past, but that hope had shattered just as quickly as it had formed.

With a final breath, you cocked the revolver, the click echoing in the silence of the night. The weight of it pressed against your skin as you brought it to the side of your forehead. At that moment, the tumult of emotions surged, fear, regret, and an aching desire for peace, threatening to consume you whole, and it did.

⋆⋆⋆

3 hours.

It had been three hours and the camp was thick with an oppressive silence that weighed heavily on everyone. The men came and went into the tent, each trying to mask their sorrow with bravado, yet their eyes betrayed them, glassy, haunted. Annabelle’s wailing filled the air outside, her cries echoing like a banshee’s lament, punctuated by shouts of blame that pierced the quiet. Yet through it all, Arthur couldn’t hear anything; he couldn’t see anything except your limp form cradled in his arms, and the world faded to grey around him.

He was convinced it was just a nightmare, an illusion crafted by his mind to torment him.

“Arthur...” Charles’s voice broke through the haze as he placed his hands on his friend’s shoulders, his grip steady yet heavy with gravity.

“We...gotta bury her. Please.” The weight of those words hung heavy in the air, an inevitability that Arthur couldn’t bear to face.

“No,” he murmured, shaking his head vehemently as if denying the truth would somehow alter the reality before him. “Only dead people are buried. She’s...she's just sleeping.” The fervour in his voice rose, desperation threading through his tone. “Mum had to always snatch the covers from her because she refused to wake up...she'll wake up soon...I know."

His memory of those mornings washed over him, a bittersweet recollection that clashed violently with the present. The warmth of your laughter, the way you would bury your head deeper into your blankets, evading the morning sun, flared in his mind. Arthur’s grip tightened around you, as if holding you closer could somehow anchor him in this cruel moment, could make you open your eyes.

“Arthur, please.” Charles’s voice trembled with a mixture of compassion and urgency. “We have to let her go. We can’t keep holding on.

“No, I said fucking no. Don't you come near, fuck off!" Arthur growled, the denial thick in his throat.

But all Arthur could think was how cruel it felt, how unbearable it was to even entertain the idea of accepting it. You were his baby sister, his blood, the only family he had left, the one he had been given responsibility by his mother, and the thought of your absence left a hollow pit in his stomach, a void that threatened to swallow him whole. He pressed his face against your hair, clutching you close to his chest, inhaling the scent of you, soft, sweet, and achingly familiar. He murmured incoherently, swaying back and forth like a child himself.

“No,” he repeated choked out, tears streaming down his face. “I won’t lose her, not like this. Not ever. GO AWAY!”

It had taken every man in the camp to separate Arthur from cradling your body. His grip was ironclad, his anguish palpable as he held you against him, as if the sheer force of his will could resurrect you from the depths of despair. They had to pry his fingers from your lifeless form, his cries piercing the stillness of the evening like a gunshot.

As they prepared the grave, the earth was turned and the makeshift coffin formed from an old wooden crate. Each shovel of dirt that fell felt like another piece of Arthur’s soul being buried alongside you. The men worked in silence, their hearts heavy with grief, knowing they could do nothing to ease the torment radiating from him. Charles stood to the side, his own heart breaking.

Even Hosea wasn't able to comfort anyone at this moment. He couldn't fathom that a girl like you, who had so much to live for, for whom he silently had promised to be a guardian of at this camp, was gone. Just like that. He will never forget how you cared for him as a daughter would for her father. Making sure he ate his meals, assisting him with chores and sipping morning (coffee/tea) with him as he read the local news alongside you.

Finally, the moment came. Arthur stumbled forward, the weight of your absence pulling him down as he lowered you into the ground. The first clod of dirt landed with a finality that echoed in the silence of the camp. Tears streamed down his cheek, cutting a path through the grime and dust of the world around him. It felt like a betrayal like they were burying not just you but every memory, every dream he had cherished.

The men finished covering you and when it was done, they stepped back, leaving Arthur alone with his sorrow. He sank to his knees, a hollow shell, fingers digging into the earth as he pressed his forehead against the freshly turned soil. It was all he had left of you.

Dutch approached cautiously, his heart heavy as he watched Arthur, the man he had come to rely on, the strongest in his camp, unravelling before him. “Arthur, my son.." he said softly, “we need to get back to camp. You can’t stay here like this.”

Arthur didn’t budge, his body rigid, his eyes fixed on the grave. “I’m not going anywhere,” he muttered, voice low and filled with pain.

“Please,” Dutch urged softly, “it’s time to go. You can honor her memory at camp. We’ll make sure she’s remembered.”

But Arthur only tightened his grip on the soil. “I don’t care. I’m staying here. I won’t leave her. I can’t…she's alone here.” The darkness of the night and you being alone made his body tremble. With that, he lowered his forehead to the cool earth, the pain a constant pulse in his heart, echoing with every breath he took. At that moment, he felt as though he had buried a part of himself alongside you.

"Just...be sure to come back, son."

With a heavy heart, Dutch turned away, leaving Arthur to mourn. And as the stars began to twinkle in the night sky, Arthur remained there, kneeling by the grave. For God knows how long.

That was the last time since Dutch saw him. Arthur went away from the camp, at least for the whole 4 months. Wandering and coping. Even after he came back, nothing was the same anymore. Pearson's stew tasted worse than ever, its blandness a stark reminder of the joy you used to bring to their meals.

Annabelle had left shortly after your passing, her heart broken beyond repair. She broke things off with Dutch, her fury spilling over. Blaming him, blaming Arthur. This time, Arthur didn’t disagree with her. There were moments when he caught glimpses of hate and blame in Hosea’s eyes too due to that night, moments that cut deeper than any bullet.

That night he had shrouded his fear with his rage because he didn't have the heart to hear any further, anything of what you had endured because he knew he couldn't bear it. Due to this utter selfishness of his, he forgot about your pain, denied to offer his shoulder to you.

Hey Arthur,

I know I’m leaving, and I wish I could tell you that everything will be okay, but I need you to understand something important, none of this is your fault. Please don’t let yourself carry that burden. You’ve always tried to protect me, and it breaks my heart to think that you might blame yourself for my choices. I don’t want you to live with regret, feeling like you didn’t fulfil some promise to Mum. That’s not what she would have wanted for either of us. Neither Dad.

As I write this, I want you to remember the better, more joyful moments we shared when we were young. The laughter that rang through our home, the endless promises of going on adventures we dreamed of as we rode in town with Dad.

You always looked out for me, and always kept me safe, and I will forever be grateful for your protection. You did more than any brother could. But you must know that the path I chose was mine alone. I was foolish to step outside when you even said not to and I got lost along the way. It’s not a reflection of you or your love for me. I don’t want you to carry the weight of my choices as if they were yours to bear.

I want you to live your life without the chains of guilt holding you down. Don’t let this tragedy rob you of your future. Pursue your dreams, even in this hard life of an outlaw and embrace the adventure that awaits you because I have seen how much you enjoy doing what you do even if I was not in favour of it. Find joy in the little things, just as we did when we were young and remember that we are forever connected by the love we share as siblings.

If you find it within you, forgive yourself. I hope that one day, you can look back on our memories with a smile instead of sorrow. I’ll always be a part of you, a part that encourages you to keep going, to live fiercely and fully.

Take care of yourself, okay?

With love,

(Y/N)

Arthur’s fingers lingered over the page of the letter, the ink slightly smudged from his own tears. Each word felt like a dagger in his chest, a reminder of the weight he carried, the weight of his past actions, of his failures as your guardian. He carefully placed the letter beside the photo of you both, sitting together, a snapshot of somewhat happier times, a month after he and you arrived in camp. The Morgans, written at the bottom, as Dutch had called you both. Your eyes were not smiling, they were empty of the mischief and the liveliness which you always held. It clearly showed how unhappy you were being separated from the home you held dear to your heart. He dragged you into this life when you barely had the chance to enjoy your childhood. And he failed to see this at the time, blinded by only his promise to keep you at his side.

I’m still.... your sister.

That plea of yours haunts him to this very day. With a heavy heart, Arthur rose from where he sat, the sun casting long shadows over the camp. He made his way to your grave, each step a reminder of the distance between them now, a chasm he had never imagined would grow so vast.

He knelt down, pulling a few wildflowers from the ground nearby, bright yellow blooms that reminded him of your bubbly laughter. They were vibrant, like the memories he held close to his heart. As he laid them gently atop the grave, a swell of guilt washed over him, choking him with the realization that you had taken the blame upon yourself.

You had written about not wanting him to live with regret, but how could he not? The dark and violent tendencies that had seeped into his life had cast a shadow over everything, over the once innocent and wholesome relationship, filled with just laughter, jokes, care and bickering, and now they had taken you away from him. Arthur thought of the times he had let his anger consume him, the threats he’d made in fits of rage, the moments he failed to protect you in the way a brother should.

"This is on me," he murmured, his voice cracking under the weight of his emotions. "You didn’t deserve this... none of it."

He brushed his fingers over the grave, feeling the cool earth beneath, as if trying to connect with you one last time. He wished he could tell you that he’d change, that he’d find a way to channel his fury into something constructive rather than destructive. But the truth was, that change seemed too far away, and the regret felt too real.

The flowers seemed to wilt under the weight of his sorrow, and he fought the urge to crumble right there beside you like he did every day when he visited you. Maybe, just maybe a simple word of sympathy from him that night could have prevented this, "I’m so sorry, (Y/N)," he choked out, his heart heavy with guilt. "I’m so damn sorry, m-my little Chumchum."

The sun dipped lower in the sky, casting a golden hue over the camp, but for Arthur. He stayed there, kneeling at your grave, wishing he could turn back time, wishing he could have been the brother you needed, wishing he could have saved you from the darkness that ultimately claimed your light. Even after killing and gutting alive the ones involved, from Linda to those men, nothing could calm his heart.

It might take a lifetime to heal from your death, but it would take a thousand more to forgive himself.

(AN: Did you cry? I sure did. PS. This was the first time I wrote on this topic so just wanted to say that if you know someone who is going thru smth or even if not, just be kind to others around you and value each other's presence. And if you are goin thru smth be sure to know that this life is a gift and also a test and there is always someone out there who is waiting for you and loves you with all their might, every cell in ur body works for YOU. Thanks for reading, stay hydrated and peace ‎♡‧₊˚)

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erabu-san · 2 months ago

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I love Tighnari and Cyno's relationship sooo much man. They clearly care about each other so much and love each other. I love them just. Being them. I honestly find friendships to be so much more compelling than romantic ones. Not that I don't like romantic relationships- but the platonic ones just...hit different.

Right right ?! There is this authentic friendship when you can trust each other. Also the comfort of knowing there is someone on your back, always here for you,,, of course, you also find this in romance trope.

But it is also a common trope in friendship that we tend to forget. What true friends are ! A choosen home, a found family. With who you can spend hours without noticing time passing, with who you don't talk for months but you know it doesn't shutter your friendship and when you meet again, it becomes an euphoric moment. There is something more deep between Tighnari and Cyno than just "romance"

Tbh I see in them my dynamic with my friends or with my brothers, and I love my friends so much <3 when everything was difficult, and I didn't trust myself enough to save me, I trust my friends. And I was right to trust them ! And that's it, if one them start to doubt themself, they can trust their friend. That's how authentic and meaningful their friendship are !! And.. the found family trope is make it more important too

I already talk about how family is important for Cyno (did I?? I don't remember if I talk about this in public), morever than his family are not related by blood (Cyrus, Lisa... Tighnari is as much as important for Cyno). Maybe it is because I have brothers and lucky of us we are united, but I believe that for man, having a brother is as deepful as a romance story (not saying that romance is bad i'm sorry !! I love romance) (maybe I'm also biased because I am in aromantic spectrum <//3) (and maybe not only for men ??)

Anyway !! I feel like we tend to prioritized romance than friendship, as a pyramidical system. But for me, their intensity in love are similar, it is just a different kind of love. It is like.. two differents pillars than a pyramide !

#conclusion : i love platonic tighnari&cyno #wish their romance wouldn't make me so uncomfortable so I can enjoy all fanart... <<//3 #i am so glad to met platonic tighnari cyno enjoyer 😭😭#that's also why I love collei being seens as a sister #parents kinda have this hierarchy place in family #tighnari is already a teacher for collei ; so a authority figure #but if you consider them as brother #it is not abt hierarchy ; it is just sillies siblings moments #you can tell something to your bro that you can't tell to your parents #i project a lot since I am also the 3rd child in my family - so i have 2 big bros #reply #hERE I AM YAPPING AGAIN #sorry for my english again... 😭😭😭

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clairewritesjjkxreader · 2 years ago

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Sukuna's Wife and Yuuji's Onee-chan (Sukuna x Reincarnated!Y/N) Part 2

Part 1

Several hundred years ago…

You adored autumn more than any other season. Leaves drying, flowers falling to the ground–you felt most alive surrounded by death.

“The leaves remind me of your hair,” you said to him, holding up a red maple leaf.

“You did not just compare me to a dead leaf.” He watched with crossed arms as you fiddled with the leaf before letting go.

“It’s a compliment. Though…I guess the maple is prettier,” you teased him. The rubiness of autumn maple was rich and with a charm incomparable to any flower.

He huffed.

You laughed a bit, though your giggles were covered up with coughing.

He strolled closer, wrapping a scarf around your neck, his large hands careful not to pull on your hair. “You love autumn but can barely stand the cold.”

You snuggled closer to his side, placing your ear close to his heart. “Then it’s a good thing I married you.”

***

Present day.

Yuuji was the single most precious person to you. He and old man Wasuke were more your family than the actual people who made you. When the toddler first grasped your finger, tightly and warmly, you swore that nothing else mattered in the world.

As the days passed and that little crybaby grew up into a taller crybaby, your sentiments only got stronger.

No one cared, no one mattered, not even yourself.

If anyone deserved to live a long, happy life, it was your sweet, salt of the earth Yuuji.

That’s why, after the man called Gojo explained everything: from curses and cursed energy to Yuuji’s fate after eating one of Ryomen Sukuna’s fingers, you found yourself getting down on both knees and laying your nose on the ground.

“Please,” you begged, “please spare Yuuji. If you need another host, then transfer Sukuna inside me and take me instead, but leave my brother alone.”

All three men were stunned.

Fushiguro reluctantly opened his mouth, “H-hey–”

“Nee-chan, get up.” Yuuji went to grab your shoulders, but he was taken aback when Gojo knelt down in front of you.

He hummed, before asking, “You sure are a good sister. You realize that you’re basically asking us to kill you?”

You said nothing as you kept your forehead on the ground.

“So that’s your answer.” Gojo crossed his arms and pretended to think.

“Darling.” Sukuna appeared on Yuuji’s cheek. He growled, “Get up. You shouldn’t be prostrating yourself in front of these scum.”

Gojo snapped his fingers. “Leave it to me, Y/N-chan!”

“Hey!” “Oy!”

Fushiguro and Sukuna chorused, “You’re not really dragging her into this, are you?” “You damn sorcerer, don’t you dare call her so intimately. Only I can–”

“Raise your head, Y/N-chan.” Gojo chuckled. “I’ll take care of you and Yuuji.”

Despite everything, Gojo needed to be sure of Itadori’s potential as a vessel, so he knocked the boy out and did the same to you before you could try to hit him.

“You’re not really thinking of using that woman as a vessel, right?” Megumi watched as his teacher held you in his arms. “And how do you even plan on transferring Sukuna into her?”

“Tell me, Megumi, do you want Itadori-kun to live?”

“Of course, I do.”

“How about his darling nee-chan?”

“Yes, but–”

“Sukuna cannot be trusted, but if he really does care for this girl then we can use that to our advantage, don’t you agree?”

Megumi couldn’t protest. He didn’t like the idea of getting civilians involved, but if he had to choose between two people and the rest of the world, then the answer was obvious.

The day Old Man Wasuke was hospitalized, you already took a leave of absence from college. Quitting your part time jobs and packing up your belongings took less than a day, and cutting ties with the rest of the world you knew was easy. You had no warmth for your colleagues, or your classmates, or the lonely old house you grew up in.

Sukuna was surprisingly quiet the whole ride to the high school, but when Satoru Gojo started flirting with you, an eye and mouth would open up on Yuuji’s cheek and demand he stay away from you.

“How dare you lay your filthy hand on my beloved–”

“You mad? What’re you gonna do from waaaay over there?” (You seriously started to worry about your brother’s safety while being protected by this moron.)

Yuuji was placed next to Megumi Fushiguro (a polite but reserved boy, you noted) while you were put in the girl’s dormitory, which was practically empty. Sukuna was vocal about “being left behind,” but Gojo was adamant about separating the boys from the girls like the rules state.

Lies, Megumi thought to himself. He just wants to piss off Sukuna. That and it was for your own safety. Though the King of Curses seemed attached to you, he was still a curse, and his attitude could’ve been a mask.

You were used to being alone so living without a roommate or “friends” in a large building was no big deal. Once you were settled in, you returned to Yuuji’s dormitory, but when you found him unconscious and tied to a chair by talismans, you threw a shoe at Gojo without thinking.

“Why are you so violent?” Gojo complained as your shoe bounced off his infinity.

“You said you would protect him!”

“Calm down,” Fushiguro said from behind you. “Please, Gojo-sensei may look and act like that–”

“–oi, what do you mean by ‘that’–”

“–but I promise you, he’s doing this for everybody’s benefit.”

“...You’re lying.”

Fushiguro’s blood froze as you gazed into his eyes. He has never felt such intense blood lust from a single human before.

“You’re not doing this for my baby’s sake… you’re lying… you’re tricking us…” Your voice dripped with ice, your stare glazed over.

Fushiguro was speechless. Something told him you weren’t talking about just Yuuji right now.

“Give him back to me.” You gripped Fushiguro’s arms. “GIVE MY CHILD BACK!”

Fushiguro was at a loss, though your nails dug into him, he couldn’t bring himself to summon his familiars or push you away. You were a bit violent, but he saw Tsumiki in you.

Wait, did she just say child?

@laurcad123 @aidanstan @deepinballs

Part 3

A/N:

I'm getting way too lazy to write full fledged prose.

Anyway, I love soft sukuna.

Also, med school is murder T.T

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iwritenarrativesandstuff · 1 year ago

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hate that I have to clarify whenever I think of two characters as having a powerful and purely platonic bond as "just friends". like I have to say that but they are not "just" anything.

did you hear me. I said they are friends. not brothers or siblings or maternal or paternal or any other familially-defined relationship. they are friends!!! do you know how powerful that is??? they! are! friends!!! they are FRIENDS

#storyrambles #random #how i feel about leorio and kurapika towards gon tbh #also odasaku and dazai... i'm more apt to accept the idea of romantic feelings than i am 'brothers' or 'fatherly' - it's just not them #but usually i prefer it platonic #even kyouka and atsushi are like this to me #i don't really see them as big brother younger sister tbh #they're friends :)#also killua and gon definitely have quite a bit of romantic hinting going on there (i personally am willing to bat for it being intentional #but at this stage their friendship is the most important thing!!! and i honestly believe it will remain the most important thing!#do you think any kind of lasting romance isn't founded on strong friendship??????

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ericityyy · 1 year ago

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Hey hello hi hey!

I would like to request a Young Sheldon fluff with Sheldon & Y/N. Strictly platonic cuz Y/N is a lot older lawl, with the trope being cool big sis (though not related)

The setting is mostly in the collage library, Sheldon and Y/N meeting there and bonding over shared interests, kinda like he and Tam.

Thanks! Love your works!

𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫

𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: 𝘚𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘥𝘰𝘯 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘶𝘱 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘴 “𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳”

𝙏𝙧𝙤𝙥𝙚: 𝘊𝘰𝘰𝘭 𝘉𝘪𝘨 𝘚𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳

𝙏𝙮𝙥𝙚: 𝘗𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘰𝘯𝘪𝘤 𝘍𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧

𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝘾𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩: 988

𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜: 𝘓𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘝𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦

𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

It is not uncommon for people to underestimate my abilities because of my age and height. Sheldon reminisces back when a few jocks were making fun of him and then putting him inside an open locker. They always think that they can steal my class standing. I can't help it if I'm smarter than them; maybe that's why they try to bring down my spirit.

The little boy called out for anyone to let him out before letting out a sigh, deciding to wait instead of wasting his breath. He's lucky enough that he's locked in his own locker, not others who know what they put in their own space. Sheldon shuddered at the thought.

When the footsteps came closer, he called out for help again by knocking on the metal door twice. "Hello? Excuse me, could you please open up my locker for me?"

The person outside jumped slightly from the sudden noise, gasping before she rushed to the locker door and opened it as quickly as possible, "Sheldon? How? Why are you inside the locker?"

"Oh, hi Y/N, some jocks were threatened by my intelligence, so they tried to put me out of the picture by not letting me get into my classes." Sheldon fixed his shirt and ensured his hair was placed correctly.

The girl raised an eyebrow at that information, her jaw clenching together, smiling at Sheldon's direction in a sickly sweet way, "Hey Shelly, can you point those 'jocks' to me now?"

"Why?" Sheldon asked suspiciously; he knows that despite being intelligent and having high grades, the girl tends to make some trouble occasionally. Giving her a free field trip to the Principal's office every time.

The teenage girl twirled a piece of her hair with her finger as she crossed her arms together, a smirk playing against her lips as a playful tune came out of her mouth, "Oh nothing, I just want to seek out the enemy is all, you know what they say. Keep your friends close, but keep your enemies chained to you."

Sheldon furrowed his eyebrows, "That's not how the saying goes."

The girl cut him off with a wave, "That's how I say it, so you're going to tell me who they are, or I'll do it myself? I could use the help of someone smart, but I guess there's no one, aye?" Y/N turned her back, smirking as she counted silently.

3… 2…

"Wait!"

Y/N laughed a little, turning to look at the boy with a fake, confused look on her face, "Yes, Shelly?"

"I'll tell you who they were."

"Well, isn't that just wonderful?"

・‥...━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━...‥・

"Hey!" the guys who locked Sheldon stopped their banter and turned to the voice of a smiling Y/N, "Sorry to bother this… shindig of yours. I just had some tiny question, if that's fine with y'all?"

The guy at the center sauntered towards the girl, who had her hands behind her back. "What is it, baby? Want to know my number?"

"As a matter of fact, yes," Y/N dropped her smile as her eyes stared coldly at the taller guy before her, "Specifically your locker number." She then suddenly kicked the shins of the guy and made him crouch and yelp in pain before the girl grabbed a handful of his hair and punched his jaw, her rings adding to the pain on his face.

Y/N then asked the other guys, "Where is his locker?" The guys pointed at the bottom door beside her. The girl opened it with a bang and dragged the injured guy inside his own locker, where she slammed the door shut despite him not being able to fit inside.

She crouched down and whispered to him calmly, "You don't mess with my Shelly, am I understood?" The boy whimpered slightly, "I said, am I understood?" He nodded his head rapidly.

"Yes, ma'am, never again."

"Good." Y/N stood back up just in time for the Principal to come, strutting in the halls.

"Ms. L/N!"

“Ah, Principal Petersen! Wonderful to see you this time of day!"

・‥...━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━...‥・

"And then what happened?" Tam asked, intrigued, eating his lunch with Sheldon and Y/N in the Library.

Y/N read a book while eating her own food, "Well, he let me off with a year's detention. It's either that or suspension."

"Suspension?! What made you get out of suspension?! What did you do to ONLY get detention?" Sheldon intensely looked at the unbothered girl, reading her book while eating lunch.

・‥...━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━...‥・

"Ms. L/N, with your record, you could have been suspended or expelled by now." Mr. Petersen looked thoughtfully at the girl in front of him, without an inkling of guilt or fear in her eyes, "That's bullying and assault. Ms. L/N, please take this seriously."

Y/N looked the Principal in the eyes. It made him nervous, to say the least. "You wouldn't suspend me, Sir. Despite my… troublesome record, I contribute to this school just as much as Sheldon Cooper does." The girl then traced every inch of the office with her eyes, "You wouldn't be in this nice office of yours if not for the funds you receive because of me and, of course, my little brother." She laughed a little, tapping her fingers on the desk separating her from the Principal, "Should I mention the bullying cases that have been ignored in this school to the public when I get suspended?"

・‥...━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━...‥・

Y/N briefly looked at their waiting eyes, "Oh, you know, just a couple of convincing is all."

Sheldon and Tam raised an eyebrow at her, who avoided their curious eyes. They then continued eating, not wanting to question it anymore. After all the time that Y/N spent at the Principal's office, no one would dare mess with Sheldon anymore. That's one of the perks of having a big sister who's exactly like him... kind of.

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑’𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄

look who’s back!!! this has been long requested. i am so sorry for taking this long to write it. like i said in my page, it’s the end of the semester and my schedule’s been hectic these past few weeks.

but i appreciate those who waited and kept supporting my works!! please do request more from this fandom and other fandoms. i might add more masterlists depending on my interests! and ofc yours (but i’m not making any promises that i will entertain it all)

#x reader #young sheldon #platonic #little brother #big sister #tw #trigger warning #sheldon cooper #sheldon #reader #imagine #imagines #one shot

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dwobbitfromtheshire · 2 months ago

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Max felt like shit and she wanted nothing more than to reach out to El for comfort, who was currently being hugged by Joyce. They were going through the same thing after all. . .except that Hopper hadn't been complicated in the way that Billy had been. Max was sure that El also hadn't wished that something would happen to Hopper, not like Max had with Billy. All the parents had shown up for their kids, not her mom, though, or Neill. She was a little grateful for that, but she also wished that things were different between them.

Max's eyes landed on Steve, talking to Robin across the parking lot. He's the big brother that Billy should have been. Steve had looked out for her, protected her in ways that Billy could only ever do once. He never once hurt her, not like Billy always did. She remembered the way that Steve had thrown himself in front of the demogorgon, the way that he made sure Billy was the one hitting him and not the kids. He had stood up to Billy, which is something that Max had never been able to do until Max was finally able to do it herself that night. Maybe she wished she had a female role model in her life, but right now, it wasn't so bad that she had a guy in her life to look up to. Max found herself moving across the parking lot, and suddenly, she was standing in front of Steve.

"Steve," Max called out.

"Oh, hey, Max, how are you holding up? That's a nasty looking bruise, but I'm sure it will heal soon. You're a tough kid," Steve said, and he wasn't being sarcastic or menacing at all.

Embarrassingly, Max burst into tears and threw herself into Steve’s arms. She hugged him tightly.

"I wanted him to stop so badly! I didn't want him to be so angry all the time and take it out on me! Nothing I ever did was good enough, and I wished that something would happen to make him stop!" Max said.

"Hey, hey, this isn't your fault," Steve said softly as he wrapped his arms around her. "There's no way this is your fault."

"How do you know?" She asked.

"Are you the Mind Flayer?" He asked.

"No."

"Did you possess Billy or experiment on a bunch of children to open a gate to hell?" Steve asked.

"No."

"Then it's not your fault. Billy chose to sacrifice himself, but he also chose to let his anger control him rather than choose to be your brother. He chose to take his anger out on you, but I know you, Max, and I know you didn't actually want him dead, despite all the things he did to you," Steve said.

"I don't want to be like him," Max cried.

"You're nothing like him. When you get angry, do you hit people?" Steve asked.

"No, I mean, not like Billy did," she said.

"Do you break people's things because they chose not to listen to you?" He asked.

"Well, no, I just call them an idiot," she said, sniffling.

"And you do it wonderfully," Steve replied, and she snorted. "Do you throw people into walls because they're different than you?"

"No. Definitely not," she said. "I also don't threaten to run kids over to get someone to agree with me."

"Jesus, Hargrove did that?" Robin asked.

Max sighed, her tears coming to a stop. She didn't pull away from the warmth of Steve’s embrace, though.

"Yeah," she said. "You make very valid points."

"You shouldn't stop yourself from feeling angry just because you're afraid of turning into him," Steve said. "Even at your worst, you're nothing like him, and he put you through the same situation that he went through."

"Thanks," Max said softly.

"He had so many opportunities to do the right thing, and it really sucks that you don't get the chance to find out if he changed or not, if he'd really show you how sorry he is," Steve said. "You deserve better than that."

"I wish he had been more like you," she said. "You're my brother, and I'm glad you're okay."

"You're going to be okay, Max," Steve whispered, and she smiled when he kissed the top of her head.

"This is absolutely the cutest thing that I've ever witnessed, and I once witnessed a deer adopt a baby rabbit," Robin said, her voice thick.

"He's okay for a guy," Max said and pulled away.

"I concur," Robin said.

"You could do worse," Max said, wiping her eyes and then caught sight of Robin's shoes. "Uh, for a friend."

"I thought you were going somewhere else with that," Robin said in amusement.

"Wrong parts," Max blurted out and put a hand to her mouth. "Sorry."

Robin burst into laughter with Steve. She patted Max's shoulder.

"I totally forgot I had drawn on them, and you're right, I'm all about the boobs," Robin said.

The three of them collapsed on a nearby unused stretcher as they continued to talk. Max laughed when Robin suggested they team up to affectionately bully Steve. It was Max's right as a sister. Steve gently nudged Max.

"You know, I've never had a little sister before," he said. "Especially one who's such a talented skateboarder."

It was hard to believe that he meant that. There was no threat that followed up to that, no menacing glare, and no hard grip on her arm telling her to listen to him or else. This was what having a brother was supposed to feel like.

"Have you ever skated?" She asked.

"Nope."

"I'd teach you, both of you," Max said.

"You might need an ambulance on standby for me," Robin said.

"For Steve, too, it looks like," Max said, and they laughed.

Suddenly, Steve’s eyes caught something ahead, and Max followed his line of sight. He was looking at Nancy and Jonathan sitting in the back of an ambulance.

"Uh, I have to go and check on something right quick," Steve said. "You okay?"

"Yeah, Robin and I are going to sit here and talk shit about you," Max said.

"Sounds good," Steve said and walked off.

"What's that about?" Max asked Robin.

"Who knows?" Robin said.

Max sat on the stretcher with Robin as Steve moved to flirt with. . .Nancy and Jonathan? She quickly started talking to Robin about Steve and the time he almost sacrificed himself to a pack of demodogs. The talk with Steve and the hug had helped a lot, but the guilt was still there, eating away at her. All she wanted to do was curl up inside of her self, to protect herself and the others from any fallout. She hoped that one day, she would be able to trust herself, trust others, and more specifically trust men. She glanced at Steve and then at Lucas. Yeah, she'll get there eventually, and maybe with their help, she'll get there a lot faster. Still, there was something ticking inside of her, whispering to her not to trust them. . .she shook it off.

#stranger things #max mayfield #max mayfield appreciation #anti billy hargrove #billy stans dni #women of stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington is max's brother #big brother steve harrington #steve & max #robin buckley #platonic stobin #robin & steve #robin is also max's sister #max deserves better #stranger things fanfiction #rueleigh writes #rueleigh's thoughts

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