#brother-sister drabble

[redbird-tf]

Wild dog

dean x little sister

synopsis; A vampire hunt goes horribly wrong, leaving you injured in more ways the one, by the person you'd least expect.

inspired by

Word count; 2.6k (officially my longest story, please dont let it flop)

Warning: hurt/comfort, injury, john, violence, language

No no no, this couldnt be happening. You all knew taking on a vampire nest was a dangerous mission, but this mistake should have never happened. Now, here you lay on the cold, hay-covered floor of an old barn. Pain pulses through your body, your mind teetering on the edge of consciousness, and Dean looming over you.

The barn was crawling with those nasty blood-sucking monsters—20, maybe more. You three had been tracking them for weeks and prepared well. Hiding in the bushes, you waited until the nest was deep in slumber before making your move. You had to move quietly. Killing as many in their sleep as possible until one awoke. Its shrill scream shattered the silence, jolting the rest of the nest awake. "Split!" Dean's voice rang out, and in an instant, you all scattered.

Dean skidded to a stop as he faced a dead end. His grip tightened around the machete, turning to face the vamps closing in. “come get it you sick son of a bitch” he growled. He swung in every direction, blood soaking his clothes. When Dean got like this he turned into a killing machine. No thoughts just, swing-hit-kill, swing-hit-kill. A vamp hurled down at him from the ceiling, yet without flinching Dean grabbed it by the throat slamming it against the wall behind him and slicing its head clean off. Only when the head rolled past his feet did he take a breath and allow his shoulder to slump.

The sound of fast footsteps made him whirl around, swinging his machete wildly, his fist connecting with the creature's face, sending it crashing to the ground. “Dean stop!” Sams horrified voice rang pulling Dean from his soilder like state. Deans eyes widened in shock and the machete slipped from his hand. “Oh my god” his voice broke. It was you. You who was running up on him. You who’s side he sliced into. It was you who lay in front of him now.

Dean collapsed to his knees, and his hands came up to cradle your face “Sweetheart, sweetheart can you hear me” he begged with desperation. You let out a painful groan, and Dean let out a heavy sigh of relief. Sam lifted your shirt, inspecting the cut that was pouring blood. His concerned gaze met Dean, “What?” Dean demanded, panic rising in his chest. “We can’t stitch this dean, we need to take her to the hospital now” Sam replied with quick urgency. He pushed Dean aside, scooping you into his arms. You let out another agonizing moan. “Sorry bug” Sam whispered. “And say what?” Dean frantically snapped while darting toward the car. “I don't know Dean, let's worry about that when our sisters insides aren’t visible!” Sam shouted in frustration.

————-

When they reached the hospital, Dean shouted for help, and within seconds doctors surrounded them, lifting your limp body from Sam's arms and onto a bed. Deans eyes never left you as you were wheeled away, only breaking when pushed past white doors. It was then the adrenaline wore off and guilt flooded his body. He stood frozen, Sam’s voice was mumbled trying to convince the nurse it had been a bear or something.

“Sir, sir, SIR” Dean's trance was broken by the nurse's voice. “Does your hand feel alright?” She asked kindly. Dean furrowed his brows in confusion, then looked down at his fist. His knuckles were bruised and the image of his fist connecting with your face made his lip quiver.

Dean and Sam sat in the silence of the waiting room. Dean's head hung low, his thumb rubbing over his bandaged hand. Sams head jerked up at the sound of heavy footsteps, “what the hell” he muttered. Deans eyes widened at the sight of John. They both quickly stood from their seat “Dad what are you-“Sam was cut off. “What the hell happened?” John asked sternly, gazing between the brothers. There was a tense pause before Dean spoke up “It was me… she ran up from behind me. i should have been more careful…” Dean spoke quietly, half to keep the nurses from hearing and half because he couldn’t raise his voice without the risk of breaking down. John sighed heavily “How many goddamn times have i told her not to do that-“John started “It's not her fault” Dean quickly rebutted. John opened his mouth but fell silent at the sight of a nurse approaching. “How is she?” John asked, his body tensed, bracing for the worst. “Shell be alright” the boys shoulders dropped. “Shell have to take it easy for a few months to prevent tearing stitches….” The nurse paused, hesitating to continue “Her injury was very severe, it's a miracle she's still alive” The room fell silent again. “Can we see her?” Sam asked in an urgent tone.

The three of them hurried to your room. Sam and John rushed to your bedside, except for Dean who stood frozen in the doorway, watching you slowly gain consciousness.” what happened?” You asked groggily. Sam spoke softly to you but the Anastasia still weighed heavy, making it hard to understand his words. A shiver ran through your body and your head cocked to the side catching a glimpse of Dean. Dean jumped out of sight, pressing his back against the wall. He swallowed sharply, his heart hammering in his chest. “De…” he heard you call. “Dean” again, and again. A moment later John stepped out, “she's cold. She wants a jacket” he stated firmly. Without a word, Dean shrugged off his jacket and pushed it into John's hand. “Go home. We’ll talk later” he ordered. “Yes sir,” Dean said lowly, his hand dragged down his face, then he turned his heel.

—————-

“What do you remember?” Sam asked, sitting at the edge of your bed. You thought for a moment, your mind capturing bits and pieces. A look of shock came over your face. “I was running to Dean and then…” Your breath hitched and your hand clutched your side “he didn't mean to” you whispered with turned-up brows. Sams brows furrowed in contrast “Of course he didn’t” he reassured you, placing his hand over yours. “Here you go kid” John stepped forward, passing Dean's jacket to you. “Where's Dean?” You asked. “Let's get going before the cops get here” John continued ignoring your question. “He didn't mean to Dad! It's my fault” you blurted out. Johns's gaze sharpened “you were reckless. and he acted like a goddamn wild dog. This is on both of you, i hope you've learned something. Now come on” he snapped coldly, turning his back.

——

The drive back to the motel in John's truck was silent with unbearable tension. When John pulled into the lot you noticed Dean's impala was nowhere in sight. “I'll check into another room. You two go to bed,” John said gruffly, pointing between you and Sam before walking off. Sam carried the bags into the room as you limped in behind him. “Where Dean?” You asked, turning to Sam with a confused look. “He’s probably just grabbing a drink” he explained, while unpacking his bag. “Can we call him, just to make sure” you nervously fidgeted with your fingers, “let's just give him some space right now,” Sam spoke quietly, giving you sympathetic eyes.

You had been tossing and turning for hours. Unable to sleep thanks to the pain meds wearing off. You stared at the ceiling until the glow of headlights flickered into the room. You listened closely to the squeak of brakes, followed by the jingles of keys. You quickly closed your eyes pretending to sleep. Footsteps crept their way into the room, then faded back out. You peeked around the room, seeing nothing changed. Slowly you sat up, cradling your side as you pushed yourself from the bed. Grabbing Dean's jacket from the nightstand, you tiptoed to the door making sure not to wake Sammy while you slipped out.

The wind bit at your cheeks. You quickly draped the jacket over your shoulders, pulling it tight. The Impala was parked in front of you, but no still dean in sight. Your eyes scanned the lot. It wasn't until you squinted your eyes that you spotted a figure in the distance, sitting on a bench, beneath a large oak tree. After a few minutes of limping, and grunting, you finally reached the bench. Dean swung around at the sound. “I got your jacket…” you said awkwardly. “Keep it,” he muttered after giving you a once over and taking a sip of his drink. You slowly took a seat next to him. The rustle of the tree blowing in the wind surrounding you two. “I shouldn’t have run up on you-“ you tried to reason “It's not your fault” Dean cut you off, his voice firm, eyes locked on the ground. “You've told me over and over again not to “ “so i should have known. I shouldn’t have looked before…” his voice strained.

Another silence settled. “I don't blame you Dean” you stated softly. “Well, i do.” He replied sharply, taking another swing of his drink. You watched him for a moment before shifting closer, resting your head on his shoulder. You could feel him relax beneath your touch. “You know when we were younger, I'd come home from school and Dad would be gone, but you'd be there.” You kept your voice steady. “Then Sam left, and i was sure you would to…but you never did. You've always been there for me Dean” you spoke softly. You saw his grip tighten around the bottle. “You know what hurt most of all” your voice barely a whisper. “when i called for you from the bed…and you didn't come” Your voice wavered before you could stop it and you bit down on your lip. Deans body stiffened. For the first time that night, he looked you in the eyes. His green eyes were a storm of emotions. “I'm sorry, kid” his voice painfully sincere. He lifted his hand to cradle the side of your face, his thumb smoothing over the bruise beneath your eye. “Dean i know you won't forgive yourself, but can you make me a promise” Your voice shook terribly, trying to keep your tears at bay. Dean nodded immediately. “promise you'll always come when i call you” you pleaded. Dean's face cringed realizing the pain he caused you, some worse than the physical. “I promise, baby” His voice was firm, unwavering. A gust of wind cut through the air causing you both to shiver violently. “We should go in now” Dean suggested to which you quickly nodded, earning a soft chuckle from him.

As You both stood up, a sharp pain radiated down your side, stopping you in your tracks. Dean turned to you in an instant, hearing you wince. “what's wrong?” He asked concerned. “My side” you breathed out, clutching at your ribs while bent over. Dean crouched down in front of you “How about i give you a ride” Dean recommended. You couldn’t help but smile as you wrapped your arms around his shoulder, allowing him to slowly lift you off the ground. His warmth engulfed you. Your eyes grew heavy, sleep pulling you in as you rested against him. until his voice pulled you back. “You know I'll always protect you too. Even if that means from me sometimes” he said quietly, but his voice laced with a sense of seriousness. You pressed your face into his shoulder, letting yourself relax again before softly murmuring.

“Dean Winchester, my own wild dog”

[moonstruckme]

hi author !!! if it is okay with you i wanna request a fic in the same universe as the Big Brother!Sirius one where in reader gets a (secret) boyfriend and then they break up or whatever u want i just want hurt/comfort 🥹

Thanks for requesting <3

big brother!Sirius + little sister!reader ♡ 996 words

When you hear the door to your dorm open, you assume it’s one of your roommates or Regulus coming to shame you for missing dinner, but then your mattress shifts with the weight of someone else sitting down and a familiar teasing voice says, “If you’re dead under there, everyone’s going to think it was me.” 

You peep your eyes out from under the covers. “How did you get in here?” 

Sirius isn’t even looking at you. He’s making himself comfortable at the end of your bed, both legs crossed under him and hair falling in his face as he unwraps dishes and utensils. 

“Reggie let me in. He seemed to think you might need some company.” 

“He’s such a narc,” you grumble. 

Your brother only snickers. “Sit up, I brought you dinner.” 

You’d much rather stay under the covers, but know Sirius would only wrestle you into an upright position anyway. He always gets his way. 

“Yikes.” He makes a face as you sit up, revealing your bedhead and swollen eyes. “You’re having a rough one, huh?” 

“Shut up.” You glower at him and take the plate. “It’s not that bad.” 

Despite your grumbling, a bit of vulnerability sneaks into your tone. Sirius softens.

“No, it’s not,” he agrees, reaching forward to brush a piece of hair away from your face. “We’re always pretty; it’s in the genes.” 

You can’t help the small smile that fights its way onto your face. This is exactly the sort of thing your older brother would say when Regulus was twelve and sulking over getting his first pimple or when you nearly broke down in tears trying to style your hair. Despite his tomfoolery and general ridiculousness, Sirius’ levity actually provided a voice of reason in your family, reminding his siblings and cousins that things weren’t always so dire. 

“Thanks for bringing dinner,” you say.

“No problem,” Sirius replies softly, as though worried his gentle tone will be overhead and his rapscallion’s repute thusly destroyed. “Is it good enough that you’ll tell me what’s gotten you so upset?”

You blink at him in surprise. “Reg didn’t say?” 

Sirius’ mouth twists, dissatisfied. “He didn’t. I guess I would’ve been more likely to find out if I’d just pretended I already knew, huh?” 

That makes you chuckle. “Probably, yeah.” 

“Well, come on. Now you’ve gotta tell me.” 

You feel your shoulders hunch inwards. “Do I really have to?”

“Yes.” Your brother’s voice is firm, but his eyes are hopeful. 

You want to tell him, you find. You don’t suppose any harm can come from it now. 

You eye him carefully. “I broke up with my boyfriend.” 

Sirius’ eyes pop. He nearly topples your plate leaning forward, like you’re back in your childhood beds trading secrets. “You were dating someone?” 

“I was.” You can’t quite look at him, focussing on cutting your meal into small bites. “Or I thought I was. It doesn’t matter. I’m definitely not now.” 

“Wha—how did I not know about this?” 

“Because obviously I’m not going to talk about my dating life with my brother,” you huff a laugh down into your lap, and you swear you can feel the force of Sirius’ eye roll burning into the top of your head. “No one really knew. He wanted to keep it private.” 

Sirius tilts his head, slotting a piece of his hair behind his ear. “Private in an avoid-the-gossip-mill way or private in a dirty-secret way?” 

You close your eyes, shame curdling in your gut. Even your idiot brother knows enough to be suspicious of something like that. Maybe if you’d told him all those weeks ago, you wouldn’t be where you are now.

“In the second way,” you admit in a whisper. “I, um, sort of assumed it was because of the first, and I liked the idea of keeping things private too, but it turned out he had other reasons.” 

You try to take another bite of food, but it feels soggy and unappetizing in your mouth. You set your plate aside. 

“What happened?” Sirius asks. 

Your face feels miserably hot. “He just didn’t like me as much as I liked him. He didn’t want his friends to know.” Tears burn in your eyes, and when you try to speak again they show up in your voice, too. “I feel really stupid.” 

“Oh, sweetheart.” Sirius sits up on his knees, bending over you to fold you into a hug. His hand presses reassuringly between your shoulder blades, and you let out a little sob. “That doesn’t make you stupid, it only makes him a prat.”

You hug him tightly. “I just feel so silly being upset when he probably doesn’t even care.” 

“You are being silly,” he chastises, but there’s fondness in your brother’s tone. “Of course he cares. He may not be regretting things right now, but I’d bet ten galleons he will be by the end of the month. Trust me, babe, boys are idiots. We don’t know how to act, we almost never know what we want, and we’re ten times more likely to fuck something up if it’s important to us. Just ask Remus.” 

Your laugh is a soggy thing. Sirius rubs your back encouragingly. 

“So, what’s the sod’s name?” 

“Oh, no way.” You laugh even harder, pulling out of the hug to wipe under your eyes. “I’m not telling you.” 

“What?” Sirius throws up his hands. “But we were doing so well!” 

“I’ve handled it, Sirius. I don’t want you to go and turn his skin green or make him sprout nose hairs down to his chin.” 

A giddy grin. “That’s actually not a bad idea. Does Regulus know who it is?” 

You fix him with your sternest stare. Most other people would soil their pants, but because he’s your older brother, Sirius only raises a brow. “If he did, he wouldn’t tell you.” 

“That’s alright.” He steals a roll off your plate, biting into it insouciantly. “I’ll find out.” 

[tinylilacbun]

Toddler!reader waking up brother!jj cause she thinks she has heard a noise under her bed and comes to jj, asking if he can check in

It's a rare occasion you and JJ sleep at home, for obvious reasons but sometimes there's just no way around it that's how you find yourself in your room, snuggling your Winnie Pooh plushie when a thump noise ripped you out of your slumber.

You sit up, rubbing your eyes tiredly and mumble softly. "Jay?"

There's just silence but you're startled when you hear that thump noise again, your hold tightening on your stuffie. With a whimper you get out from under the covers and carefully slide down the side of your bed, your naked feet hitting the ground.

You quickly toddle over to your door, barely reaching the handle and pull it open, going straight to JJ's room right across from yours.

As you push his door open you see him laying on his stomach with his leg slightly propped up and snoring faintly. Standing beside his bed you reach up to poke his cheek. "Jay..."

When he doesn't move you try it again but this time pat his cheek a few times with your tiny palm, whining a little. "Jayj wake up!"

Finally he starts to stir, peeking one eye open. "Why are you up...it's- damn it's 3 in the morning."

"There's a monster in ma room..." You whisper, glancing at his door before back at him.

"A monster huh? It ate your toes or somethin'?" He asks, his voice heavy with sleep and still laying in the same position you found him in.

"Don' say that! S'not funny." You whimper, trying to climb up his bed and he stops you.

"Didn't say it was. Listen, there are no monsters 'kay? Go back to sleep." He mumbles into his pillow but you don't give up, now pulling at his hand.

"Pwease come check...m'scared." You admit and JJ sighs, sitting up with a yawn.

"Okay. Okay. I'm comin'."

He lets you lead him back to your room, stealing a glance at the living room he sighs seeing his father sprawled out on the ground beside the couch and with no doubt fell out of it in his sleep. That's probably the reason you woke up and it's funny in a sense you think there's a monster considering what kind of a person your father is.

In your room you stand by your closet pointing at your bed. "S'under there."

"A'ight..." He mumbles, going to crouch down to look under it, standing back up after checking. "Nope, no monsters living here."

"You sure?" You ask, your voice muffled from hiding your face behind your Winnie Pooh.

"Mhm, you're safe to go back to sleep." He says, waving you over to him. "C'mon, I'll tuck you in."

You shuffle closer to him, letting him pick you up and lay you back down in your bed. He pulls the covers over your body, ruffling your hair. Before he could leave you grab his hand again. "Can you stay til I asleep?"

He smiles softly, nodding his head. "Course kiddo."

You scoot over a little to make room for him and he slips under the covers, making sure you're comfortable and have your stuffie, chuckling when you snuggle closer to him. "Night-night, jayj..."

"G'night, sweetie."

Taglist

For everything:

@my-river-lilly @pauntedblacknails @fanfictioniseverything @devilslilbabysblog @buckymydarlingangel @hallecarey1 @daybreakwinter @loveshineslikethesky @wandaslittlewhore @vase-of-lilies @white-wolf1940 @simpingbutch @mischiefsemimanaged @alina02 @teddybearsgrr @doozywoozy @angelbabydoll28 @glxwingrxse @lilymurphy03 @veryvaughnny @lokigirlszendaya @youngstarfishdinosaur @little--baby--bear @minideathgoddess @rach2602 @gh0stgurl @flourishandblotts-inc @lovelyy-moonlight @yoruse

@mythixmagic @iris-xoxo-juhu

For JJ:

@chiaraanatra @chimindity @flora-eva

[ttulipwritezz]

King Of My Heart (Body And Soul)~ R. Lupin.

🌷Series Masterlist~

Synopsis: when James and lily died, and your brother was sent to Azkaban, Remus was the only person you had left. Until he left too. What happens when he returns after the events of Sirius's escape, only to find out you have a son? A son that's his. Content Warnings: lots of italics, probably grammatical mistakes, kiss(es), might be ooc idk, child (?), fem reader, italics are flashbacks ( idk), love (ew),mentions of self harm, attempt to suic*de, accidental pregnancy, pregnancy, Established relationship, deals with sensitive topics, angst, use of curse words, slow burn (ish)

Chapter 1- Stranger That I know ( posted 27.02.2024) Chapter 2- Expectations (posted 29.02.2024) Chapter 3 - Helpless (posted 08.03.2024) Chapter 4 - Kings And Queens ( posted 15.05.2024) Chapter 5 (coming soon)

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[six-eyed-samurai]

Thinking about being such a Demon Slayer fan that you literally have every merchandise possible: posters, figurines, plushies, magnets, haori and even the character's accessories. You've even dyed your hair in (character)'s iconic colour scheme and style.

But that wasn't enough for you, so you decided to go to Japan. Hey, the tourism was good, and if you got to buy and explore more of your favourite anime, bonus!

So you arrive and wander the streets gawking in awe with full shopping bags in your hands, humming Gurenge under your breath. You were so lost in your daydreams you slam into someone - sorry, two people.

Cue your apologies as you scramble to your feet, but a melodic voice interrupts you with assurances that it was alright as two pairs of hands help pick up your fallen items. You look up to see a pair of petite sisters with matching blue-tinged hair and smiles.

"That's a nice hairpin!" Was what the elder and taller of the two called out as they continued to walk past you, and you self consciously raise a hand to the Kocho family butterfly pin in your hair.

You continue your walk downtown, strolling past screens with the world famous Tenma Uzui's face plastered on it as he lifted his latest medal and advertised products. At the toy store you had paused to look into, three youngsters rushed out with their newfound prizes in hand.

"Sabito! Give it back!"

"Hey, you already said we'd swap!"

"Until Makomo said she'd give me hers!"

You glance at them out of the corner of your eye and laugh seeing them fight over the colours of the warding masks. An old man with a red face mask stepped out of the shop shortly after and began to shepherd the trio away.

Seeing the Gashapon machines inside the store, you decide to step in too, but before you could the door flew open and a short, purple-haired man tumbled out. Clearly he had been kicked out but he wasn't taking the hint.

Inside the shop an exasperated but still polite voice echoed. "For the last time, Enmu, that toy train is for display only."

"I'll buy it someday!" Enmu declared cheerfully as if this were a regular occurrence and simply brushed himself off and headed to the direction of the nearest station.

You shrug and quit your side eyeing, venturing inside. The red haired shopkeeper looked up from the counter, his formerly poker face transforming into a bright smile that matched the red sun of his hanafuda earrings. "Hi, are you looking for anything? Tourist?"

Sheepishly you replied and casually asked Yoriichi, as he had introduced himself, for any recommendations on where to eat for lunch.

"Oh, you should try the diner down the road! It's family run - Mrs. Iguro is very sweet and they're very famous for their sakura mochi! My wife Uta and I frequent there, so just tell them I sent you."

That sounded good to you, so you thanked him along with your exchange of tokens, then asked for directions.

"It's right on front of where my brother works, Kibutsuji Enterprises. It's a huge office, you can't possibly miss it."

"Kibutsuji Enterprises...? I think I've heard of them, run by Kagaya Ubuyashiki right?"

"Oh, no, don't get confused, they're rival companies actually. The Ubuyashiki company has a wisteria as its logo."

A little confusing, but alright! You thanked him profusely once again and left, making your way through the busy streets to the diner.

You thanked your lucky stars you got there on one piece, for there was a motorbike zooming and booming through the crowds without a care for law or life just now as you were walking. Thankfully you had jumped back just in time before they could mow you down. From what you could see in the racing blur there appeared to be a green-haired young boy dressed in a crimson shirt with a manic smile on his face and a screaming white-haired girl clutching onto him for dear life driving. You hoped the two scarred faced policemen would catch them - no doubt, actually, seeing as they were both already brandishing guns and chasing after the two with furious speed .

"SHABANA, YOU'RE ABOUT TO GET FINED AGAIN!"

"I DON'T GIVE TWO FXXKS, SHINAZUGAWA!"

"Yeah, that's right, Onii-chan!"

You pass a school bus dropping off a bunch of tiny preschoolers, herded and fretted over by their hulking giant of a teacher. His wooden bead necklace matched yours, clacking together as he urged the kids to stay together. How cute... although such a big man being so kindly was a little unnerving.

"Oh? Want to try our signature Eternal Paradise perfume? We guarantee you'll have anyone falling for you with it!'

You ignore the blonde salesman leaning outside his store. He peered over his rainbow tinted sunglasses to catch you rolling your eyes and with a fake gasp of hurt he grabbed his chest. You snort and continue walking.

Mrs. Iguro was just as welcoming as Yoriichi had promised, although you were rather caught off guard by her bright pink and green hair and the fact she was carrying a whole stack of plates and balancing a baby at the same time.

"Hi!!! Welcome, do take a seat, what can I get you? Obanai's special for today is Western food - oh wait, silly me, you're not from around here, are you? I expect you'd want something local! Coming right up!"

You can't help but be buoyed by her bubbly nature, waiting patiently with a contented grin. You look around the diner and while the snake ornament at the counter catches your eye you find yourself studying the other customers instead.

A pair of identical twin boys eat quietly, with a younger boy with rosy cheeks noisily chatting with them; evidently a playdate of some sort.

"Don't forget, Kotetsu, you're paying because you lost the last shoji match."

"Aw, Tokito, you're such a seaweed head. I'm just a beginner!"

"Brother's a seaweed head, not me."

"HEY! WE LOOK THE SAME!"

You chuckle and your gaze strays to the other table, where a family of three ate their ramen. Their son seemed a little paler than normal and you couldn't help but overhear the mother's worrying.

"Darling Rui, don't eat so fast, you might choke and you just recovered!"

Embarrassed at your eavesdropping you duck your head and look at the other table where a group of rowdy students sit and snack.

"YOSHITERU AGATSUMA, HOW DARE YOU BURP LIKE THAT IN PUBLIC!"

"It was an accident, Toko! I can't control it!" Was the whining answer. "KANATA, DEFEND ME! OW! YOU'RE NOT A REAL FRIEND, KAMADO!"

"UMAI!"

Mrs. Iguro - or Mitsuri, as she had insisted you call her - arrived with towering plates and hell lot of topics to converse about. You happily indulged in their famous udon and her delighted talking while her husband glared at you from the window, although the threat was rather marred by the fact he was feeding a toddler at the same time.

You learnt Mitsuri - so cool! Her name was the exact one as the Love Pillar from the series! - had five kids (your head was still spinning over the fact) and that her hair had turned out that way from eating too much sakura mochi, which made you wonder what was happening to you after eating so much (favourite food) over the years.

After your meal you repeatedly thank Mitsuri for her meal and longingly promise to stop by again you leave for the last place on your agenda, Gyokko Art Studio.

The exhibitions mainly displayed brightly painted vases and scupltures; you had a lot of fun taking selfies with the gigantic koi fish statue and the one of a dozen blacksmiths forging swords. The studio also doubled as a pottery school, and when you enter you had immediately spotted the five rowdy teenage boys who were now arguing over a kiln and a broken vase at the back.

"KARAKU, YOU BROKE IT!"

"Hey, Sekido, chill! Zohakuten pushed me!"

"SHUT IT, WHY ARE YOU ALWAYS BLAMING ME? IS IT BECAUSE I'M THE YOUNGEST? AGEIST!

"Guys...quiet down....granddad is sleeping upstairs...."

"Nah, Aizetsu, I wanna see what happens!"

"Enough! All of you just clean that mess up! We have visitors! Your grandfather and I may be friends but I will never know what went wrong when he was raising all of you!"

Out of the back appeared the most flashy man you had ever met, eye catching with his coiffed purple hair and thick makeup, his scale tattoos catching your eye as he shooed the arguing brothers away. Eyes outlined with clashing green and red turned to you and he held out a stained hand. "Managi at your service! I run this humble store and I deeply apologize for the boys. Honestly, the Hantengu brothers are absolute menaces and I speak knowing the Shabana siblings."

Managi gave you a quick private tour of his studio, his arrogant but dramatic way of speech amusing you greatly, especially when he complained about a pair of twins who came in on the weekends, his two workers, children...well, Managi had an opinion on everything.

"Those Tokito whippersnappers have no appreciation for art! The only reason I haven't shooed them out with clay gluing their ill-mannered mouths shut is because their mother is a regular of mine."

"Haganezuka! Absolute concentration in what he does and a prodigy in vase making, but he is absolutely terrible with customer service! I usually leave that to Kanamori but we waste more time preventing Haganezuka from attacking customers than actually selling.

It was definitely a trip you'd like to remember, so you bought a small cup that had caught your eye and waved goodbye to Managi as you left for your final destination, your hotel.

You decide to take the longer way round to enjoy the picturesque walk beneath the sakura trees. Stopping to admire the pink fall you suddenly realize there's a couple beside you taking photos. Embarrassed that you might be unintentionally photo bombing, you move away, but a tap on your shoulder spins you back around.

"Hi, excuse me! Do you mind taking a picture of Hakuji and I? We tried taking a selfie but haha, the shot didn't cover the trees."

You oblige, secretly delighting in observing the young but loving couple interact with each other - especially when the punk-looking, tattoo-covered Hakuji was holding her so gently like that. You take their photo and after their grateful thanks you resumed making your way back.

Upon arriving at the lobby you were annoyed to say the least to find yourself stuck behind an irritatingly loud young man arguing with the poor receptionist. Of course, you couldn't actually see the receptionist's - Nakime, on her name tag, and that sounded rather familiar - face due to her long bangs but anyone would honestly be irritated with how obnoxiously he was talking.

"Sir, I have explained to you already, your booking was cancelled because you were late with your payment-"

"Oh come on, woman, it was just a day late!"

"You too are very late with your excuses."

The tall, tuxedoed man from the sofa had gotten up and was now towering over the younger man after politely excusing himself for getting in your way. "Miss, look for a room registered under Kokushibo. I suspected my fool of a secretary Kaigaku would make yet another mistake."

"HEY, LISTEN HERE, OLD MAN-"

"Kaigaku, I really don't have time for this, my wife is going to be back soon from taking the kids to the zoo. Thank you, miss, and excuse us."

"That guy was irritating you, wasn't he?" You remarked, accidentally blurting out your thoughts. "I mean, I wasn't eavesdropping!"

The receptionist smiled faintly. "Don't worry, I'm used to him. Your name?"

And it was only when you flopped down on your hotel bed and stared at the ceiling did it occur to you that a lot of people had seemed very familiar to you today.

Perhaps fiction and reality weren't that far apart after all.

[fbfh]

pleaseeee elaborate more on dilf logan huntzberger being obsessed with reader- bc quite frankly i’m obsessed with him. also thank you so much and i absolutely adore your writing and wish you the best! p.s. please don’t feel like you have to write this and feel free to ignore it!

YES. I COULD GO INTO HEAVY DETAIL. AND I WILL.

god you really are just everything Logan wants. you're so kind and sweet and sexy and full of life, you're intelligent and well spoken without being pretentious or fake, you're authentic, and you have all this figured out in your 20s for god's sake. most of his peers don't have a fraction of your good traits, and they don't seem to care to pick them up. and the craziest part is that it doesn't even feel like much of an age gap to him. you connect on so many intellectual and emotional levels, you just get each other, you like being around each other so much that you don't even notice. you're not a 40 year old and a 20 year old, you're just Logan and you. he's never felt that... at home with someone before. in all fairness though, one benefit to the whole age gap thing is how differently early millenials like Logan and mid gen z like you view stuff like work and adulthood. Logan was lucky to break through into his carreer (among his many other privelages) when working hard actually did pay off, when labor wasn't exploited nearly as much. so when you open up to him about how you don't want to work, you don't want to kill yourself over a shitty job just to make ends meet, you want to go to farmer's markets, and watch clouds and read books, you want to be able to enjoy life slowly, it really hits him what a perfect match you are. you make Logan feel so excited, so understood, so safe, and Logan gets to give you everything he knows you deserve, and knows more than he's known anything that you'll be in the 5% of successful age gap relationships. because it's not a statistic, it's you and Logan.

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

༉‧₊˚. 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐝 𝐝𝐢𝐱𝐨𝐧 || 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐥 𝐝𝐢𝐱𝐨𝐧

― pairing: daryl dixon & little sister!reader (platonic)

― era: season 10

― summary: it had been too long since you've seen your older brother, and if he was going to be honest, he thought you were dead.

― warnings: mentions of death, arguments, fluff, and angst.

― wc: 1041

⋆ a/n: i was mentioned in a post by @morgan-wolf that gave me some prompts that they had come up with, and i figured why not do a platonic fanfic? i had a lot of fun making this and thank you for the mention! :] it's always so refreshing to write something platonic omg.

masterlist | AO3

You had honestly thought you would never see your older brother, Daryl, ever again. It just didn’t seem possible; with the lengths you’d traveled on foot to the people you’ve lost, the idea of him being alive was almost too good to be true.

You guys had been separated from each other ever since you were fifteen. It was your fault really, but the argument you had between Merle & Daryl was considered a big deal at the time, but now that you’re almost twenty-six, it was almost laughable. You had gone out drinking with some friends and hadn’t come home until the next night, and Daryl was almost losing his mind worrying about you.

You were a complete accident, your parents hadn’t cared about you since you were born, and the caretaking was left up to Daryl & Merle, but of course, Merle can’t take responsibility for anything, so Daryl was the one that took care of you most of the time. Of course, with the pressures of teenage hormones and the fact that there was nothing to do in your small town, you would eventually give in to the mischief of your friends. Daryl had dreaded the day you grew up truly, and that night was an eye opener for him, and he had no idea how to take it.

“What the hell were you thinkin’?!” Daryl asked angrily. He stood behind one of the dining room chairs, his hands having a death grip on the back of it. “I was thinkin’ that I wanted to go and hangout with my friends without you on my back!” You replied back in irritation. Merle chimed in from the couch he was sitting on, “Don’t act like we didn’t do that when we were her age, little brother.” He laughed to himself before taking a swig of his beer. 

“Shut up man!” He growled.

“You’re not my fucking dad,” You bit. “So I don’t even know why you fucking care.”

His face morphed into something nasty. “Ya think I wanted to take care of ya?” He began to slowly approach you. “Yer jus’ some fuckin’ burden that I was stuck with..” His finger jabbed into your shoulder. A sickening feeling settled in your stomach as you bit back tears; his words hurt worse than you thought they would, and without thinking you said, “Fuck you, Daryl.” As you shoved him away from you and stormed out of the front door.

Daryl went to move when Merle piped up from the couch once more.

“Let ‘er go. She’ll be back, jus’ needs some time to cool off.”

Daryl wished that he hadn’t listened to him.

For the next ten years, you were on your own, and you had spent the first five holding on to hope that the only family you had managed to survive. Even though you hated Merle, he was blood, at least that’s what he had said - which you since learned was a shitty manipulation tactic. You didn’t mean what you had said to Daryl though, you didn’t have the right to say what you did to him, and maybe both of you were in the wrong; most nights when you were supposed to be sleeping, you’d stare up at the stars, your head swimming with questions.

Now, you’ve stopped wondering, just opting to live and save the people that were alive.

You were wandering back to your camp when you stopped in your tracks, slowly drawing your bow and quiver as you watched a man surveying your makeshift camp in the woods.

“Drop your weapons.” You said lowly. 

You could see his back muscles tense under his angel jacket, your eyes falling on the dog that was waiting for its owner's command. Your eyes softened, you hadn’t seen a dog in so long you’ve almost forgotten what they looked like.

“No one’s gotta get hurt.” You heard him say. “You’re right, so drop your shit,” You pulled tighter on the string. “I won’t ask you again.” He froze for a second before quickly spinning around, his crossbow brought up and ready to shoot.

Your tense body deflated at the sight of Daryl.

“D?” You asked in disbelief. 

Those same tears pricked at the ducts in your eyes caused you to lower your bow, becoming completely defenseless. You threw your arms around him and began to sob, clinging onto him as you could barely say a coherent sentence. Years of grief and loss completely melted from your body, as that hole in your heart had finally begun to heal.

He couldn’t believe you were still alive; all hope had died off with you the night that you disappeared. He had no idea if you had found a safe zone or if you were bitten. He desperately searched for you until Merle forced him to move, where they inevitably found the quarry and its people.

“God,” You say as you pull away from him. “You look like shit, old man.” You attempted to joke to cover up your embarrassment of showing your vulnerability. “Ya don’ look any better, brat.” He grumbled light-heartedly. 

You two had begun to walk together, a couple of giggles escaping your lips as Daryl’s dog danced around your legs once he learned you weren’t a threat.

“So, where have you been?” You asked. He just shrugs, “I’ve been around.” You nodded in understanding. “Same here. I can’t even tell you where I’ve gone.” You snorted in amusement. There was another beat of silence before you spoke again. 

“Where’s Merle?”

He nibbled on the skin of his lower lip nervously.

“He uh- he didn’t make it.” His voice almost sounded sad. “Oh.” You didn’t know how to feel about hearing about the eldests’ death. A part of you was sad, but the other part of you was also in disbelief, almost like you didn’t believe him. “How did he die?” 

“Doin’ somethin’ stupid but kinda… heroic?” 

“I would have never expected that.” 

“Me neither.” He said with his classic scoff.

Despite losing one brother, you were grateful that you had the other, and if you were going to be honest, he was your favorite. Your conversations flowed as if you hadn’t had to pick up where you left off.

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy

[sculptorofcrimson]

My Angel

@kit-williams I take FULL responsibility. Behold, more scary golden boys!

~~~~~

“Je prie les anges et les anges m'ont pris”

Translation from French: I prayed to the angels, and the angels took me. 

~~~~

It's not a pretty feeling, is it, when you are denied even the right to die?

The Aquilan Shields. The desire of any, the saviors of countless. The gilded heroes in gold and crimson, thundering from the skies. 

But they are not heroes.

They are not saviors. They are not angels, they are seraphims bathed in fire and brimstone and choking smoke. They do not chase off death, but rather prolong it, until you can die by their command. 

It is a tradition, they say, a practice that carried over from the First Custodian and into their Order. The First to seal what belonged to him in gold and crimson, the first lifebringer who preserved life in a dead man walking. The outcast dead, preserved beyond an end, beyond life, beyond even adoration itself, until love curdled into obsession.

He was the First of the Custodes, the First to adore so vehemently it was beyond even death itself. 

It is a tradition for them not to love, but to protect, to adore and nurture, to keep. It should be an honor. It should be adoration. Many want to be loved. No one wants to know. Many yearn for that pretty delusion, the warmth of the fire without fearing its heat. You cannot love a heartless man. 

It was hard to imagine Leinth had once wished for the stress of their regard. 

“You seem melancholy today.” He observed. His voice filters through perfect vox lines, yet she could detect no waver beneath it, no human imperfection. It was as if he had been mastered as a machine, without deviation, and without error. 

Leinth offered a wan smile, the girl kicking her thin shins out over the rooftop’s edge. He had found her with ease, as he always had, regardless if she was in the Palace’s grand gardens or had paid a civilian to carry her to the outskirts of Terra. He would always find her, after all. 

Sekhmet Andas of the Aquilan Shield made no noise as he shifted to a resting position besides her, making eerily little sound for one as large as he. For a moment they were silent, watching the setting sun bathe the slums of Terra to red, then crimson.

“I had thought Terra would be beautiful.” she spoke, after a long while. Sekhmet inclined his head. 

“What makes you think it is not?” 

“These.” Leinth gestures with one hand. Her fingers, still unused to the exercises she had been subject to, awkwardly form crude signs in thoughtmark. + These. The ones you never show. + Her voice had yet to be taken away from her in her ascension to a full Sister, but her freedom to roam certainly was. 

“You cannot drape wraiths in raiments and call them beautiful, Leinth. You cannot show the shadow of the sun.” Sekhmet, with surprising tenderness, gently nudges her index finger to the proper form. "Longer, Ley. Thoughtmark is not an unelegant language."

"But are they too not loved?" she bats his hand away. "These wraiths." Leinth couldn’t help but feel irate at the simple use of her endearment. It had once belonged to her brother once. 

"I cannot speak for them." he replied. "Only that they were not graced by His light."

"Like I wasn't?" Leinth chuckles softly, bitterly. "Like I wasn't blessed, for the first decade and half of my life? Worthless, until my gift was seen?" 

“No. You were…exceptional.” Sekhmet’s tone was as level as always, even in the face of Leinth’s capricious wrath. The thin girl was shivering, but seemed unnoticing of the setting sun’s cold. Sekhmet reached out, and wrapped his cloak around her shoulders. Leinth never looked up. 

“Oh, you.” Leinth’s giggle sounded far too jaded, far too cruel for a girl of her age, all of twenty-three and as bitter as a veteran. “You’ve spent so long in the gold, you’ve forgotten how to speak of the bronze.”

Sekhmet did not respond to that. He simply wrapped the cloak around her, and tried to fasten the clasp. Once more, Leinth shakes his hand away. Sekhmet contends with draping the fabric around her. 

When she next spoke, her words were laden with vitriol. “I had a brother once. Down here. We were together.” There was an old rancor here, an ancient ache. Her eyes had become unfocused, her legs swinging out into the void as she gazed upon Terra’s slums from the shelter of the rooftop. 

She sounded almost wistful. 

“We were together when Father died. You wouldn’t know. Of course you wouldn’t. You wouldn’t care how Liaser fed me, clothed me, fought off a gang and ended up losing a third of his index finger from a knifethrust that was meant for me. You never saw the bodies left in the streets to rot, the trashheaps we buried ourselves in to hide from the gangs, how he took in a pariah at the age of twelve and refused to abandon her. You never knew what it felt like to starve, not knowing if you’d live long enough to scavenge from the streets. But he refused. Not even when my gift suffocated him, not even if he hated my soul, but loved me enough even when I drew “visitors”. When my aura drew…others here. Visitors that beat him. Visitors that tortured him. Visitors that hated me, hated my mind. Visitors wanted me.” her eyes had become unfocused, bitterly embroiled in the past. Sekhmet placed a titanic hand on her shoulder. He could feel the Pariah’s pulse from here, beating fast and hard like a dying rabbit’s, her shaven head bobbing from side to side with seemingly no consciousness. She was shaking. His other hand, still clad in gold auramite, rubbed soothing circles next to her spine. 

She regained her voice after a few moments, still trembling. “One of them tried to skin him alive unless I showed myself, were you there to protect me from then?” 

“Ley, you know that-”

“Were you there?” She half screamed. “Were you there when they broke three of his ribs and I robbed a clinic with my gift, when I walked in and the doctor called me a soulless monster and ran? When I left that dingy, rundown place with credits in my bag, knowing they feared me, knowing they looked at me and saw nothing but loathing? Knowing how it felt like not to be unnoticed, but to be utterly hated?”

“The golden do not know hate, dear Ley.” His hand wrapped around her, tightening and dragging her close when she tried to move away. Leinth snorted in derision and annoyance. He continued on. “And they will never step foot nor hide, so long as you’re beneath my gaze, little Sister. Where love is made impossible for you, Pariah, then contend yourself with fear.” With more tenderness than thought possible for a creature so cold, he reached out and gently turned her head towards him, tilting her face up until they were eye to eye. Leinth saw nothing, not even the cold spark of life, behind those eyes. It was like gazing into the eyes of a corpse, a corpse that would hold her, love her, suffocate her, for eternity.

“Contend yourself with fear, little Pariah. Where they cannot love you, they will learn to fear.” 

Leinth pulled away from his grasp. “But I do not want to be feared.” 

She did not ask to become a Sister, she did not want to be plucked from her brother’s arms and paraded like a trophy before golden eyes. She did not ask to be in that alleyway when they came, her thin arms over her head as the blows rained down one by one, still hearing her brother screaming at her to run. Sobbing for her life, pleading to be spared, praying for the angels to come and save her. And she prayed, and the angels came to save her. 

“I do not want to be feared.” she repeated. 

“But you will be.” His grip was like iron. He did not allow her to turn away. Instead, he dragged her close, cold auramite upon her shoulders and her neck. “You will be feared, not loved. Because, after all, who else would love you except for I, little Pariah?”

Who else would love you, when the world itself has turned away in fear and horror? Who else could love her, when even the Emperor’s light could not warm her?

Who else would love her if not for him? 

Leinth tried to move away, but his auramite grip was unbreakable. He dragged her against him, and this time she didn’t even struggle. Unshed tears had dripped steadily from her lashes, her sobs too proud to be spoken yet too painful to be restrained. Her small frame was shaking, but her voice was bitter, and filled with more vehemence than either of them had known. 

“I prayed that night you saved me, you know. I prayed for you, Sekhmet. I prayed that you would find him and bring him back. But you never even tried, did you?”

The silence was his answer. 

“You never even tried to find him. You left him there. And you took me.”

[timechange]

MCFLY JULY ‘24 — dave’s night off.

DECEMBER 14, 1985, 7:46 PM

“Okay, McFly, focus. You got this.”

Marty’s staring at the pristine living room wall, hands drumming his thighs. The familiar motions help him to think, be calm.

“Nobody knows what happened to the boat that Grandpa Artie gave Mom and Dad,” he begins, like he’s studying for a history test in the garage, “but that doesn’t mean it’s gone, it’s just… in storage… somewhere. Uh… Grandma Sylvia’s crochet blanket is in your room. It smells like her perfume, not popcorn, and that’s okay, ‘cause you miss her anyway and you need to call her soon. Nobody knows what the hell happened to Grandpa Sam’s scratchy plaid couch with the busted up cushions and Grandma Stella’s quilt’s in Mom’s hope chest… she thinks.”

“The weird modern art thing Mom and Dad picked up on… their honeymoon?...” He smacks his forehead, running a hand through his hair. “Dammit, no, not their honeymoon, it was their anniversary, their tenth anniversary. Dad replaces the flowers in the vase with fresh ones every week for Mom. There’s a million throw pillows on the couch so I guess nobody sits there anymore?…”

He rubs the back of his neck.

“Uh… kitchen. Right. We got the good chips and the good cereal, not the store brand, but... only one box ‘cause I’m the only one that still eats that junk. Everybody else has… bran and muesli and shit.”

He sighs.

“Photos…” Marty picks up an immaculate frame. “This is from Dave’s tenth birthday trip to Disneyland but you were five so it’s okay you don’t remember anything.” He stares at the family in the photo; a happy mom, a charming dad, three beautiful kids, the littlest one with a grin that looks like it’s about to break his tiny face in half. He thumbs over the glass. “I’m sorry, kid. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. I hope you’re okay… whenever you are.” He sets the photo back down.

“We’ve been to Knott’s Berry Farm, Florida, New York…” They keep asking him where he wants to go after graduation and he’s beginning to run out of ways to stall.

“At least Long Beach still happened,” Marty continues. “Jen remembers, so do the guys. And you got the album and the poster and the t-shirt to prove it, so—“

“What the hell?”

“Jesus Christ!” Marty jumps, whirling around to meet his older brother’s eyes. “Dave, you scared the shit out of me! What are you doin’ home? It’s Saturday! You’re supposed to be out with the guys from the office!”

He’d had it all planned: Dave was supposed to be out, Linda was working late and then had a date, and his parents were off at the Baxters’ Christmas party. He thought it was safe.

“Oh, I scared the shit out of you?” Dave retaliates. “And yeah, it’s Saturday, but it’s the week before Christmas, genius! Maybe I’m supposed to, I don’t know, hang out with my kid brother!”

“I-I’m sorry, Dave,” Marty sighs, deflating, hanging his head and sticking his hands in his pockets. “I just…”

“You gonna tell me what that was all about?” Dave asks, putting his hands on his shoulders. Even without looking up, Marty can feel his brother’s eyes on him, searching.

There’s a long moment of silence.

“‘At least Long Beach still happened?’” Dave prompts. “Of course it happened! That stupid concert was all you talked about for months!”

Marty manages a smile, before it falls.

“You ever feel like you’re goin’ crazy, Dave?” he ventures. “Or maybe… like the world is? I-I know it doesn’t make sense, but…”

“Of course it makes sense,” Dave cuts him off with a sigh. “I was seventeen too, y’know.”

“Yeah, I remember,” Marty laughs, “you were kinda the worst.”

“Sure I was, I was a pain in the ass,” Dave agrees. He tilts Marty’s head up with his finger like their mom used to and gives him a smile. “You’re not crazy, Marty. I’ll tell you what’s happening. Senior year is makin’ you screwy and I know you haven’t been sleeping.”

“I-I haven’t,” Marty admits.

“So, here’s what we’re gonna do. We’re gonna order pizza, you’re gonna kick my ass at Nintendo while we wait, and then we’re gonna watch a movie. Okay?”

“…Pepperoni with extra cheese?”

“Duh. What am I, a monster?”

“Okay.” Marty smiles as Dave ducks into the kitchen to order. “Hey, Dave…?”

“Yeah?” He sticks his head out, receiver already up to his ear.

“…Thanks.”

Dave winks.

“Anytime, Marty. Anytime.”

DECEMBER 14, 1985, 11:29 PM

Dave turns the volume on the TV down, opting to watch the rest of the VHS on as close to mute as possible. He sets the remote down, turning his attention to his sleeping brother, curled into his side like a little kid. He ruffles his hair, sighing.

Normally, he’d tease Marty when he’d wake up about how he took photos or something stupid like that, or he’d just carry him up to bed, but things hadn’t been normal for months now. Something happened, he didn’t know what, and at least if he was right here he could watch him and make sure he was okay.

The front door opens and he recognizes his sister’s footsteps, the way she slips off her heels and the jingle of her keys and handbag as she sets them on the counter. She walks into the living room, about to say something, but Dave raises his free hand to his lips in a shushing motion.

Linda takes in the scene, then sits down on Dave’s other side. She grabs the remote, starts rewinding White Christmas, then leans her head on Dave’s shoulder as the movie starts to play.

[writer-ann-artist]

Always together; Never apart

Since you could remeber, you and Draco were close. Your mother would often say that you two were made for each other. Draco and Lyra Malfoy, twins by birth. Always together never apart.

✧༺✦✮✦༻∞　 　∞༺✦✮✦༻✧

This was self indugent from a daydream I had when thinking of charters and dialog. I don't think much of this piece. It's not the best I've ever done, but I like the simplicity of this story.

In the first year at Hogwarts, no one questioned how close they were. As they grew, people began to grow uncomfortable with the twins' closeness. Neither twin told the other about the hateful comments each got. While getting ready for their fourth year, some students nearby noticed the twins in the book store.

"Absolutely disgusting." A young girls voice snarled.

"Excuse me?" Lyra asked genuinely.

"I know you're not talking to us Parkinson." Draco snapped back, knowing the cruelty that could come from their fellow classmates. Narssisa - their mother - listened from around the corner.

"You two are praised as perfect wizards, yet you think you can parade around your hideous views." She sauntered around, showing to others how she viewed herself.

"You're not making sense." Lyra's soft voice asked for clarification.

"When does she ever Ly." Draco rolled his eyes, pulling his sister closer.

"I'm talking about you two being lovers." She snarled out her words, showing her teeth.

"Draco, Luna, there you are. Your father is waiting for you outside." The twins' mother spoke - with a practiced elegance - above the hateful child attacking her children.

"You better watch yourself Pansey." Draco threatened as he walked towards his mother's guiding hand.

"Don't bother us ever." Lyra tried to match Draco's anger, but he watery eyes gave away how she felt. Lyra and Draco walk down the stairs as Narssisa continued to threaten Pansey.

"You even think about spreading such horrendous things about my children, I will personally end you and your family." Narssisa tried to keep her composer as she stared down the brat.

✧༺✦✮✦༻∞　 　∞༺✦✮✦༻✧

At school, the teasing never stopped. They ended up going to the Yule Ball together. At the ball, many whispers carried on but were drowned out by the noise and fun everyone was having. At the end of the night, Lyra and Draco head to the astronomy tower, as they do most nights.

"Have you heard the rumors?" Draco whispered into the air.

"Which one's?" Lyra asked in her whimsy voice. Draco stepped closer, tucking loose strands of Lyra's hair out of her face.

"The ones regarding us." He asked without removing his hand from Lyra's side of her face.

"I try not to, but most only do it to tease us. They are not all serious." She shrugs her shoulders, bringing her hand to hold onto the wrist Draco used to hold her face.

"I know Ly, I know. But I do have a confession." Lyra looks at Draco silently telling him to tell her. Draco licked his lips before continuing.

"I'm scared, Lyra, of myself. For you, I'm scared I'll hurt you." Lyra quickly holds on tighter to Draco.

"How could you ever? I know you would never hurt me, not intentionally." Lyra now faced Draco, face to face, chest to chest.

"There it is, my Lyra." He caresses her face as they stand there.

"I hate myself, Lyra. I hate the way I feel. No matter how hard I try, it won't stop." His voice cracked.

"What is it, Draco? Let me help, I can't see you like this. It hurts me." Lyra pulls Draco closer to herself, wanting him close for comfort.

"I love you, Lyra, more than I should." Her eyes widen.

"Draco, I-I." Draco quickly grabs Lyra's face and kisses her. Knowing how wrong it should be, Lyra wanted to stop. Her body didn't listen. She kissed back. They separate to breathe.

"We can't, i-its wrong." Lyra feared the trouble they could get into. Draco kisses her again.

"I love you."

"They'll kill us." He voice squeaked as her brother kisses her again.

"I love you."

"They'll send us away." He kisses her again.

"I love you."

"I love you too." They both dive into each other. Holding each other tightly. Draco ends up going further than Lyra expected, but she never stopped him.

✧༺✦✮✦༻∞　 　∞༺✦✮✦༻✧

[moonstruckme]

Oooo darling!! Your latest TASM fic sparked and idea!

(Before that, hello lovely 🩷 i hope you're having the best spooky season!)

Big brother!Sirius coming to save some poor sod that upset his slytherin!sister (Regulus' twin). So you have the charming & fun Sirius; quiet & regal Regulus; loyal & volatile reader. And i imagine Sirius calls them his twin stars (because hes deffinately a huge sap).

Where wolfstar is in 7th year and has a great relationship with the twins (maybe theyre trying to become their legal guardians behind the scenes). He and Remus are in their dorm before Peter bursts in, breathless, only saying "y/n" before Sirius is off. He has no doubt to why you were put in 🐍, and god forbid someone actually hurt his baby sister.

On reader's side, someone made a snide comment about Remmy being a halfblood or ruining the Black legacy or something and reader gets pissed because shes actually quite fond of him.

Then whatever you decide love; maybe reader gets hurt; maybe she does the hurting; maybe Remus saves the day with his long legs; or Sirius might show people what growing up in the 'Noble house of Black' does to someone. And idk what Reggie is doing, i imagine he was making out with James and they come in at the last minute ("😱 james!! What have you done!? Youve DEFILED one of my precious stars!!! Let go of him!!!! NO, dont touch him, get away.")

Anyway bub, as always; dont feel pressured and take all the creative liberties youd like!! Love you lots darling x

Hi my lovely, thanks for requesting! I really need to get more creative than bloody noses but ugh they're just so classic

cw: blood

big brother!sirius + (as opposed to x, I guess?) little sister!reader ♡ 861 words

“You weren’t there!” you insist as Sirius stalks back and forth across the room, tapping his wand against his leg in a quick, restless beat. “He said—he—” You look at Remus, the boy’s eyebrows drawn together in concentration and concern as he presses a cloth under your nose, trying to stop the blood that’s already crusted down your chin. You decide to keep your mouth shut. 

Remus smiles wryly, and you know he suspects why you’ve chosen to go quiet. “It doesn’t matter what they said, love. I don’t need you getting in fights for me.”

“Who was it?” Sirius demands, for probably the fourth or fifth time. You’re losing count. 

“It’s already been hand—ah!” Remus murmurs an episky while you’re distracted, and you flinch, hands flying to your face as your septum snaps back into its proper place. “Fuck, could’a given me some warning.” 

“Sorry,” Remus says, and he looks like he means it, tilting your chin up to continue cleaning your face as you look at him with teary eyes. “Thought it might hurt less if you weren’t expecting it.” 

“How do you figure?” you ask him, somewhat miffed. 

“Back. On. Task.” Sirius claps his hands with each word, coming to a stop in front of you. “Who did this? Remus is my boyfriend, I have twice as much a right to defend his honor as you do, you—you fucking—squirt.” 

You sneer at the childish name, but you know your brother means to rile you. “I told you, I handled it. He won’t do it again.” 

“And he’s never going to touch you again either,” Sirius promises menacingly, squatting in front of you to look you in the eyes, “if you just tell me the fucker’s name.” 

“Alright, that’s enough,” Remus says, taking his boyfriend’s shoulder in a spindly hand, the touch both soothing and controlling as he pushes Sirius back from you. “Let’s just let her rest for a minute, yeah?” Sirius sputters in protest, but Remus moves in front of him, pressing his face into his boyfriends’ dark locks. You roll your eyes at the display, though a tiny part of you loves that your brother has someone who loves him this well. Once he quiets, Remus speaks in a low, soothing voice. “I know, I know, you won’t be deterred from your vengeance, but there’s time for that later. Let’s just calm down for now.” 

It’s a lovely prospect, but at that moment, the door opens to reveal Regulus and James, both looking somewhat ruffled. James stops short at seeing you all gathered in his dorm (Remus and Sirius, of course, have every right to be here, but you’d bet he and Reg were hoping for some privacy) and stands there blinking for a moment. Your twin’s blasé facade slips the moment he sees you with blood still crusted to your nostrils and tear tracks down your face. 

“What happened?” he asks, pushing past James and into the dorm. 

“She got into a fight,” Sirius says, outrage instantly rekindled, and Remus sighs in exasperated resignation, his work undone. “Someone said something about Moony, but she won’t tell who.” 

Now James looks upset too, eyes darting to Remus concernedly. “About Moony? When?” 

“Just now!” Sirius throws up his hands. “Ten minutes ago! Did either of you see anything?” 

James shakes his head, and despite Regulus’ blank expression, you catch the embarrassed shifting of his stance. “No,” James says, “we were, uh…we didn’t see anything.” 

“I bet I know who it was though,” Regulus offers, that traitorous scum. He’s just throwing you under the bus to take the heat off himself. 

It works; Sirius perks up. “Yeah? Who?”

“It doesn’t matter who,” you say, but Sirius cuts you off, facing your twin. 

“Who?” he asks. 

“It was the guy you were arguing with yesterday too, right?” Reg glances at you for confirmation, and you glare at him. Don’t you dare, your look says, but he nods and turns back to Sirius. “He’s your year, the one you guys call Sni—”

“Reg and James were coming in here to have sex!” you blurt. 

It’s a wonder Sirius doesn’t get whiplash from how fast he turns around. “What?” 

You nod, unable to feel guilty as Regulus gives you an appalled look from behind your older brother. “Mhm,” you say. “Their hair is all messed up, and look—their lips are swollen. Plus, they were surprised we were in here.” 

You do feel a tiny bit bad for James, whose dark skin blanches when Sirius turns on him. “James Potter, did you come in here to defile my brother?” 

James looks to Remus for help, but his friend only turns his palms up like Sorry, what can you do?. After a second, Regulus steps closer to him.

“Sirius, we—”

“Don’t touch him,” Sirius practically retches. He shakes his head, grabbing Regulus by the arm and all but dragging him from the room. “Alright, listen. You are going to tell me who was talking shit about Remus, and then we’re going to have an entirely separate conversation about boundaries.” He casts a noxious look back at James. “And I’ll deal with you later!” 

[tinylilacbun]

Teenagereader! Can you do like JJ picked us up from a party and were drunk so he takes care of us?

The moment you called JJ he immediately got into action, catching the keys from the Twinkie that John B tossed to him when he heard you slurring on the other line, clearly drunk and at some party based on the loud music blaring in the background.

He isn't mad, not at all, you're just a teenager testing your limits and having fun in life, there's no harm in that it's only natural, he did much worse when he was your age.

JJ is actually quite amused and a little touched that you called him to come pick you up and not your dad in a drunk haze, thank god.

He's still worried of course, knowing all kinds of stuff that can happen while being intoxicated, having experienced a lot of them himself.

You'll always be his little sister, and he'll make sure nothing bad ever happens to you, he vowed that to himself.

That's why he didn't hesitate to make his way towards the party you barely managed to tell him over the phone, telling you to stay put and to not go with anyone that isn't specifically him.

A good 10 minutes drive away he pulls up to the beach where a keg party is in full swing, stepping out of the Twinkie as he scans the area for you.

Eventually he spots you leaning heavily against one of your friends while laughing loudly, shaking his head with a chuckle as he makes his way towards you.

"Jayj!" You beam, throwing yourself into your big brother's arms, giggling drunkenly against his chest.

"Seems like you had a lotta fun, huh?" He snickers, trying to keep you upright as your body sways. "C'mon, let's get you home."

You only nod, letting him lead you towards the van, barely managing to keep your footing as JJ helps you into the passenger seat, putting on the seatbelt for you.

When he lifts his head you grin at him with heavy eyelids, hiccuping one time. "I love you jay."

He chuckles, already prepared for the emotional drunk talk you'll probably pour out now, ruffling your hair. "Love ya too, cupcake."

He shuts the door before rounding the Twinkie to get into the driver's seat, starting the engine and wheeling onto the road.

Soon you arrive at the Chateau, the others ask if you're okay but JJ just gives them a thumbs up as he practically carries you inside.

He lets you flop onto the pullout couch with a huff, making sure you're laying comfortable and have one leg dangling over the edge, momentarily leaving you to get a bucket in case you don't make it to bathroom in time.

"You'll have one hell of a hangover tomorrow but lucky for you, your big bro knows all the tricks." He chuckles as he sets the bucket next to the couch, grabbing a blanket to drape it over you, smoothing some of your hair from your face. "Sleep tight, sis."

"Wait..." You mumble out, taking hold of his wrist before he could leave. "Stay 'til m'sleeping?"

His expression softens even more at the quiet plea, nodding his head and sitting down by the edge next to you, waiting patiently for you to fall asleep.

He'll definitely tease you to no end when you wake up tomorrow.

[ttulipwritezz]

King Of My Heart (Body And Soul)~ R. Lupin.

Chapter 4 - Kings And Queens 

Ootp! Remus Lupin x Sirius's sister!Reader

Synopsis: When James and Lily died, and your brother was sent to Azkaban, Remus was the only person you had left. Until he left too. What happens when he returns after the events of Sirius's escape, only to find out you have a son? A son that's his.

WC: 2k

 Warnings: lots of italics, probably grammatical mistakes, kiss(es), might be ooc idk, child (?), fem reader, italics are flashbacks ( idk), love (ew), Sirius is back, mentions of torture, abuse, walburga black, abandonment, mentions Of attempts to suicide, mental health issues, young parents.

A/n: So.....I'm updating after two months... nice. anyway, thanks sm for all the love and support y'all gave on this series, i promise i'll update sooner now lol. I put in lotta effort into this chapter, so i hope you enjoy. If you like this, please reblog and comment! <3 (p.s. the series isn't over lol it has a few more to go.)

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A gasp echoes through the empty corridor.

Not yours…

Regulus's.

"He is my father?"

The words escape him with such hatred 

"Dove i-"

Remus's eyes widened at the endearment. 

"Professor Lupin is my father? Why didn't you ever tell me!?"

You can hear the anger in his voice. It makes you question yourself again. 

Why does everyone think it’s your fault?

Regulus glances between you and Remus. You’re certain you see tears prick in the corners of his eyes. His face is red, much like his fathers.

While you collect your thoughts, he takes a deep breath. Closing his eyes abruptly, he repeats.

“Why didn’t you-” 

His voice seems to choke up towards the end.

 "I didn't deem it necessary Reg-"

Attempting to keep a level head you tried to explain yourself before your son cut you off.

"YOU SHOULD HAVE TOLD ME!" 

Now he’s done it.

"Regulus! You will not raise your voice at your mother!" 

Your eyes go wide, you say the words with a booming voice. 

The whole house seems to quake. You couldn't help the parts of your mother, walburga, that seeped into you. You were her daughter after all. 

Regulus let out a sound close to a scoff and seemed to seethe with fury as he made his way up the stairs, his door made a creaking sound as if pushed by enormous force, pausing before lightly closing with click, as though he had stopped it before the slam came.

Realising that Remus was still in the room, you sighed before lifting your gaze up to meet his.

You open your mouth a couple times but no words seem to come out. You drop your gaze again.

Luckily for you, your name tumbles out of Remus's mouth before he asks a question.

“He…he doesn’t know?” 

His voice was filled with hesitation. You could see his hand lift up towards you in your peripherals. He hesitated. Of course he did.

“I didn’t tell him. I couldn’t.”

Ironic huh? Your husband returns after fourteen years and all you’ve done today is try to explain yourself.

It’s all too overwhelming. You need to get away.

Before Remus could respond to you, your feet seemed to lead you back to the stairs. 

You turn around once you hear your name again. He calls you that a lot…

“I could…talk to him, you know?”

His eyebrows are raised in what you can guess as hope, and his voice sounds scratchy.

Contemplating for a moment, you respond.

“Do what you please Lupin, I don’t care.”

A shake of your accompanies the words.

You tried to make yourself seem stern. But you aren’t.

And he knows that. He knows you better than you know yourself.

You feel a tug on your arm. Looking down at him from the stairs, a wave of nostalgia hits you. His hand feels warm on your arm. You can hear the wind blowing outside. 

It feels…the same.

You walk in the great hall and make your way towards your friends. not before sparing a glance and smile towards the marauders, mainly remus.

Remus's mouth quirks up at the corner as he gives you a lopsided grin, his crooked teeth showing through.

This doesn't go unnoticed by Sirius, his brows furrow and he lets out a noise somewhat similar to a scoff

"My sister moony? really?" he drawls, turning his eyes to his plate, attention still on Remus, who startles and looks back to deny his proclamations.

"what? I just gave her a smile." His confusion makes the other two marauders burst out in laughter. Their boisterous laugh echoes through the great hall, drawing your attention.

 With a glance shared with Remus, you let them be.

"I see how you look at her, it's obvious mate" Sirius grabs his attention again and begins to prepare to leave for his class.

"I don't know what you're talking about"

"you very well do" A bored expression adorns Sirius's face.

Remus furrows his brows before your retreating figure catches his attention.

Noticing his distraction, Sirius rolls his eyes and turns around to leave.

“Talk to her.” He mutters to Remus before he’s gone.

Much to Peter and James’s surprise Remus does indeed listen.

He follows you out of the Great hall, looks right and left before spotting you towards the stairs.

Taking long strides he makes his way over to you.

You hear your name once. It’s Remus.

His eyebrows are raised in what you can guess as hope.

You feel a tug on your arm. Your eyes meet his, that look right behind you at something.

Before you can form a word, he pulls you hard towards his chest.

A group of third years pass by, hitting your shoulder as they pass by, no doubt in a hurry to reach their first class.

Your face is hidden in Remus's chest long after you can no longer hear them.

As he opens his mouth to say something, a smile breaks out on your face, easing his nerves.

That was the best laugh you two had had all week.

Remus wordlessly pulls you into his chest.

Your arms automatically go to wrap around his middle. No matter how much you hate him right now, you can’t deny the comfort his warmth brings you.

You’ll worry later. That night you cry in his chest, for the first time in fourteen years.

Three knocks on Regulus’s door pulled him out of his trance, as he was busy Staring at the ceiling.

He glanced over at the door in anticipation.

“Can I come in?” Remus's voice echoes through the mostly empty room.

Most of regulus's belongings seemed to have not made their way into this house. Remus understands why.

With hesitation, Regulus nods His head once and Remus lets himself in.

“Can we talk…?”  Remus was unsure, that much was evident.

Regulus nodded once more and moved his gaze across the room. Avoiding his fathers eyes Like the plague.

Remus cleared his throat before sitting down on the bed.

His throat bobbed up and down, As did the mattress. It made a squeaking noise, Filling in the silence that enveloped the room.

“We need to talk…” Uncertainty lingered in his voice.

With silence as Regulus’s only response, He continued.

“I-” 

a sigh followed his pause 

“I- uh- when you were little…welp- Not born yet. Heck I had no clue you were going to be born. I-” 

Remus's throat felt dry, he was stammering, his words were jumbled. He had no idea what to say. 

He only just got to know the kid.

So he started with the obvious.

“I…am your father-”

That earned him a snort of laughter from Regulus.

“Yeah, no shit.”

At Least He was making progress…?

“But I made a mistake, I left your mother when we were both at our worst, I can never forgive myself for that. And I don't expect her to either.”

Remus paused again. His Brows furrowed and eyes squinted as if he was choosing His next words carefully.

Regulus's feet tapped on the floor, impatience, Remus recognised that trait, must've gotten it from his mother.

Taking this as a sign to go on, he continued.

"I love her, kid....she's my everything "....

"Then why'd you leave her?" 

Regulus spoke very little, but when he did, it was hard to miss.

"I didn't know she had you, my boy...if i'd known i wouldn't leave-" 

"no.”

Remus's words halted, his brows furrowed in obvious confusion.

No?

“ I asked why you left her... not me. Merlin! You say you love her but left her alone. Didn't You?"

Oh

"i was scared and foolish a-and young-"

Remus tried to explain himself, to justify himself.

With each word he spoke, Regulus's blood seemed to boil.

"Do you have any idea how much pain you've caused her!? Mum wanted to kill herself, professor. She didn't want to live."

There was an urgency in Regulus's voice, like Remus would disappear again the moment he stopped talking.

You'd remember that night like it was yesterday. The stars were gleaming, the moon was full. 

It made you want to give up. You were on the ledge when a small voice inside your head called out "stop, he needs you. regulus needs you" so you got down, and took a step back, your heart racing and thumping against your chest.

You remember, the bigger voice that screamed at you to let go "Godric! you coward. You coward. Do it. Just. Do. It." It said.

You backed off and fell to your knees, sobbing when the reality of it came crashing down. 

You were twenty eight. Regulus was six. Only six.

And he was standing behind the balcony door, scared, nervous and relieved at the same time. He didn't want you gone, but he didn't want you to suffer.

He was just a boy. And he was hurt. 

He was torn and you didn't know.

"I saw her, she wanted to give up. A part of me wanted her to give up, be free, I thought. Hell, I was just a kid. I didn't know anything"

Hot tears escaped Regulus's eyes, his hands going up to frantically wipe them away. When he failed, he just pressed his palms into them to try and stop the flood of oncoming tears.

Both shocked and ashamed by Regulus's words, Remus's first instinct was to cradle his son, comfort him, but Regulus Pushed his hands away and looked straight at him through red eyes.

"I hope you're better now...and I'll not hesitate to say this- she deserves better." 

A few tears gathered on Remus's lash line, he blinked them away.

He had gotten good at that huh?

His mouth opened yet no words came out.

“You should go…” 

Regulus said, at last, sensing Remus's speechlessness.

The bed creaked as he got up, taking slow and unsteady steps towards The door.

The doorknob felt cold in his hands, he thought.

"Hey, professor..." 

Remus looked back.

"take care of mum...she's been through a lot"

With a nod, Remus exited the room. Leaving Regulus to go back to staring at his ceiling.

As he enters the hallway, his eyes fall onto a vase.

A vase with a singular flower in it, no doubt enchanted to stay fresh.

It looked familiar....too familiar.

Sitting on a picnic blanket, at a time you're certain is past your curfew, is less than ideal on a cold winter night.

But laying here with remus makes it all, so, very worth it.

Your attention from the stars is taken away for a moment as you feel a tug on your fingers.

Remus takes your hand into his, intertwines your fingers and gently places it above his chest, the place where you'd think his heart is.

"You know... you're the queen of my heart"

You just about melt into a puddle at the way he says it.

“And my body...and my soul" he adds. 

You let out an airy chuckle before responding.

"You cheeky poet."

"Tortured poet." Remus attempts to correct you with faux irritation.

"Alright" 

This is accompanied by another snicker. 

"I'm serious!" Remus says, though he does mirror your smile.

You feign confusion as you reply.

“but you're Remus."

Remus just about whines at your pathetic joke with your brother's name as he leans back pushing one leg up and resting his free hand on it, before kissing the back of your intertwined fingers. 

You stare up at him as he watches the sun set. 

As you tighten your grip and lay your head on his shoulder, you think...

‘You too are the king of my heart, body, and soul.’

And that night you remember till today.

You picked that flower that night, he remembers.

And if you still have the flower, then he has hope.

He'll make it up to you, he thinks.

No matter how long it takes.

He knows he will.

Series taglist: @twilightlover2007 @idli-dosa @lovesanimals0000 @deathbyramennoodles @deadgirlsrunning @lovelyypythoness @corvinalitbitina @joeytribbiani18 @mayusaatma @csifandom @kissmeunicornbaobei @takem3tothelakes @loser-with-wifi @roraxruw @empress-simps @callsignwidow @geeksareunique @0strawberrysorbet0 @deamus-liv General taglist: @desikudisworld @iamgayforyourmom1510

[donutenthusiast]

Heads up, there is kny/ demon slayer spoilers ahead as this oc does very little to affect the main storyline.

It is also messy as I was just writing about how she would interact with sanemi at first but it turned out to be how she would play in the story in total lol.

I have a hashira oc who was supposed to be there and stop the demon in sanemi and genyas town (pretty sure it was actually muzan) but was late and blames herself for the boys losing their family, so she kinda took them in and acts as a maternal figure for them, teaching them basic sword fighting and feeding them, and giving warm beds to sleep in, and just pampering them in total.

she obviously didn't like how sanemi treats genya, so from time to time, she'll hear about something he did and bonk him on the head with the sheath of her katana.

"Leave your brother alone!" As she casually slaps him on the back of the head, and he won't do anything about it because he kinda has a bit of respect/gratitude towards/for her.

Likewise, you'd imagine how scared shitless genya was to go back to the estate after the final selection where he pulled one of the ubuyashiki girls hair, he was on high alert until Hikari inevitably caught him and practically beat him into the ground cause she taught him better than that. Gyomei had helped her, apologising through tears to genya as it all went down.

She used to be a mentor for shinobu and Kane, giving shinobu the shoes with the built in blades, and teaching her how to brew basic medicine.

Her and Kane would often times talk about sanemi.

Mitsuri is like a younger sister to her, giving kanroji an older sister she never had, the 3 girls (formerly 4) would have little sleepovers in Hikari's estate.

Obanai and Hikari do not like eachother, he views her as an "obstacle" for mitsuri's attention, and Hikari doesn't trust his intentions with kanroji.

Rengoku often visits for food and occasionally can be found in Hikari 's kitchen eating her leftovers. She was completely distraught when she heard of his death but still leaves a special plate out for him.

Gyomei and Hikari are best buddies, top two hashira that the ubuyashiki family can trust. They joined around the same time and can be found talking about genya and his accomplishments.

Muichiro is also like a son to Hikari, though he never remembers her. she feels bad for what he's gone through.

Tengen used to brag to Hikari about his 3 wives, in which she would look at him like how tanjiro looked at zenitsu in the field when they first met, he eventually learned to shut up about it. Now is always super extra with respect because he now feels kinda embarrassed just by that look, what he doesn't know, was that it wasn't because of his 3 wives, but because he just genuinely stank every time, i doubt he has showers.

Giyuu would crash at her place sometimes, letting her take care of him a bit. She'd make sure he eats a proper meal and make him some sleep medicine so he can rest properly, and of course, sanemi wouldn't like this, being the little chihuahua he is.

Hikari wasn't fond of the fact that nezuko was turned into a demon at such a young age, but was willing to slay her with minimal pain should ubuyashiki ask her to. At first. then she got to know nezuko, and tanjiro, and the whole gang, then nezuko reminded her of herself when she was younger and lived in the mountains alone.

Hikari is an expert at producing poisons and often drinks a few of them to gain immunity. It freaked the hell out of everyone at first, lol.

When she found out saneni had tried to blind genya, she looked at him coldly and hit him with the classic "I'm not mad, just dissapointed" he didn't like that one bit.

While falling through the infinity castle, she yelled for her boys to stay safe and fight hard, to make their mama proud, they're real mama, not her, cause she knows she isn't their mom, and could never replace someone so dear and precious to them.

She would go on to fight kokushibo with genya, losing a leg, and crawling over to her boy, holding him close as sanemi and gyomei finished uppermoon 1, saying how she'll be right behind him so he won't be alone.

"You did so well, my genya, you're family would be so proud of who you've become" her voice would crack as she brushed the hair out of his face, sanemi would come kneel beside them, genya starts telling aniki about how great and kind he was to him, as sanemi would try hold onto his fading brother. he'll cry onto Hikari's lap as she pats his head, combing her fingers through his white hair.

"Dearest Nemi, we did our best, now, you must continue to fight, and live a happy, healthy, long life, okay?" She'd say softly, and it's not until her cold hand stops that he realizes shes dead, her body still sitting upright, a soft smile on her face as her last tears fall from her closed eyes, hand still resting on his head as he looks up with pain filled eyes.

In short, I can't live without angst, I originally made Hikari to take care of the hashira and spread the love and care that I felt they all needed, but since energy can't dissappear, and needs to go somewhere, I used her as a way to absorb some of that negative energy and lessen the pain for them all, but I guess they all still get hurt in the end by her death, except obanai lol.

Anywho, if you guys want to know more about her just let me know lol

[colleybri]

Andor Drabbles (episode 1)

Kerri

“Kassa is my brother. And my mummy and daddy. And my friend.

He is always there. He listens when I sing. Sometimes he sings to me. 

But sometimes, he wants to be with the big boys and girls. And I get sad then, and play with the toy he went back and found for me. The one I once woke to find him crying over.

Sometimes he’s happy. When we sing together. 

He’s excited now, playing hunting with the big girls and boys.

He says he’ll come back soon, so I wait, but I’m sad because I miss him already.”

https://archiveofourown.org/works/56476306?view_full_work=true

[unwillingwriter]

Unserious [Drake & Josh]

Pairing (Technically): Drake & Josh (Platonic)

Ages: 18

Summary: Drake Parker is a very unserious person, whether it’s by choice or coincidence which makes people like Josh or Megan want to strangle him. Here are some occurrences of him being such.

A/N: Originally Posted on A03, I do not own Drake and Josh. Rightful owner to the characters and sitcom is Dan Creepy Schneider and Nickelodeon productions.

———

Drake Parker is an unserious person, an unserious person who downplays a lot of things. Whether it’s school and his grades, getting grounded, not remembering a girl of the week name, or importantly her eye color for some reason: seriously what’s so important about remembering such a small thing? Okay, maybe remembering a name isn’t such a small thing… but still! Eye color shouldn’t be that big of a deal in his opinion besides, he did remember Michelle’s eye color! Or was her name Sydney?… no no it was Cassie!

Anyway! Drake's point is!! He did remember her eye color. They were a deep sea blue with small hints of swamp green surrounding the pupil, melting into the blue like oil and water— see he could be poetic— and remember a simple eye color, so he didn’t understand why a cup of soda was dumped onto his head, for!.

“You’re wrong,” Josh says after making a buzzer sound that mocks one from a game show when the contestant says the incorrect answer. He sounded eerily close to one that Drake thought he had a buzzer under the counter that he was wiping down with a rag.

Drake squints at his brother as he picks apart his sticky hair, wincing when he seems to rip apart a knot that somehow formed, streaks of dried orange crush coloring his face.

“How am I wrong?” Drake asked, wiping his face with a damp paper towel Josh kindly gave him with his signature half smirk he gets when something happens to Drake. Only small things, of course, Josh isn’t a sadist. Aside from the doom buggy accident— but he wasn’t happy about the fact that he got hurt he was happy and excited about the endless possibility of Drake getting in trouble with Audrey and Walter. But of course that blew up in his face and had to take care of Drake for two weeks.

“First of all, her name isn’t any of those. Her name was Rochelle and second of all her eyes were green” Josh replies as he stacks the candy in an orderly fashion.

“Yeah, that’s what I said,” Drake says in a Duh tone, finishing up with cleaning his face and looking at the orange stain that seeped into the paper towel.

Josh stops stacking, looking towards his brother with a raised brow.

“What?” Drake questions.

“Do I still have soda streaks on my face?” he continues, touching his face in search of a sticky substance. Josh shakes his head at Drake, in both disappointment and amusement.

Drake never fails to amaze him.

“No, you still got stupid all over your face though,” He says with a shrug.

“Oh okay,” Drake smiles, then frowns.

“Hey!” He squeaks out, voice cracking.

Josh laughs, getting a damp paper towel thrown at him, the material smacking him in the nose and falling to the floor.

“Ew, I don’t want your Drake cooties!” Josh grimaces as he leans down in his station, picking up the discarded piece of tissue between his index and thumb fingers. Throwing it into the small waste bin under the corn dog machine. Josh’s personal touch, beat going around the counter every time.

It was Drake's turn to laugh.

“Cat-like reflexes my butt” He snickers, trying to run his fingers through his hair. Flinching when he feels small bits getting ripped out his skull saying a string of ow’s and owies.

Josh rolls his eyes at Drake.

“Where did you get that kind of eye color from anyway?” Josh asks, genuine curiosity peaking.

“I don’t recall any of your past girlfriends having those”.

Drake shrugs his shoulders, both not knowing or caring.

“Beats me, hey wanna watch a movie with me? It’s terrible movie Tuesday” Drake says with a small grin on his face, eyes sparkly. As if he didn’t just get soda dumped on his head just three minutes ago and had a huge dark stain on his brown shirt, hair sticky with the smell of orange crush soda.

Josh gave his brother a face.

“What?.”

“I’m working,” Josh says, his tone screaming ‘duh isn’t that obvious?’.

For Drake Parker?, Nah.

“When do you go on break?”

“In ten minutes but-”

“And how long is your break?” Drake cuts in.

“An hour, but Drake-”

“Perfect, then you get to start your break early. Ain’t that awesome?” Drake asks with a smile on his face as he hops over the counter grabs Josh by the bicep and drags him to Theater One where DragonBall Evolution is playing.

“Drake if Helen finds out”

“She isn’t gonna, she never finds out that Gavin sleeps on the roof and he still works here. Crazy Steve is crazy and still works here. You work the hardest out of them both without having something mentally wrong with you, so if she fires you it’s her loss man— you put out 110% all the time and that’s way too much for a simple position.” Drake practically rants, while he drags his stepbrother through the double doors ignoring the blonde employee whose name he doesn’t care about remembering. If you work at the Premiere and you’re not Josh he’s not remembering your name.

Josh smiles at his brother, a soft somber secret smile that he only shares with Drake if the teen happens to say something that ruffled his feathers in a good way.

“Wow Drake, that's a pretty nice thing to say…”

“Besides, if she fires you, no more free tickets for me. So I’m hoping she doesn’t find out.” Drake adds, snorting through his nose.

Aaaaand moment ruined.

Josh could feel a familiar throbbing in the side of his head. Eye twitching. He thumps Drake in the back of his head with his free hand, not too hard but hard enough. Drake lets go of Josh's arm when they reach aisle three, rubbing the back of his head.

“Ow!” He groans glaring at his brother.

“What was that for?!”

“For being you,” Josh says bitterly, Drake thumps him on the back of his head in return making Josh cry out, rubbing the back of his head. He huffs.

“Headaches!, you give me headaches!” Josh shouts as he points at his temple, a big frown on his face. Drake keeps the glare.

They stare at each other for a while till they scream in sync and collide with one another, the shadows of their bodies big on the walls of the theater as the commercials on the giant TV play, illuminating a gentle white then blue light. Drake knocks a few hits in Josh’s head till his brother picks him up and practically body slams him on the floor, Drake swears he sees stars. A blossoming warmth of pain took over the back of his head, sinking through his brain and shooting out to the front of his forehead. He’s pretty sure his head connected with the arm of one of the theater chairs before he hit the ground while he and Josh are having a slap fight on the floor.

If Josh wanted, he could’ve been a wrestler. Screw the fancy science shit and math and some other smart stuff Drake has no idea about and doesn’t care for.

After some time Josh tries to help Drake get his head out from the chair he manages to get his big head stuck in between, trying to unclip the backboard of the chair. Drake lets out a strangled sound.

“Got it yet?” The teen wheezes out.

As he says it, Josh loses his grip and its normal weight squishes Drake's neck making the boy sputter out air.

“Ack!— Josh!”

“Shit— Sorry— why did you try squeezing through there?!” Josh hisses out, loud explosion sounds echoing through the empty theater while two teens looked like absolute buffoons. Josh hooks his finger around a piece of metal on both sides of the seat, pressing his thumbs against the metal button that’s used to change the height of the seat.

“I’m skinny!” Drake throws out there as if it changes anything and it doesn’t make his grand idea any stupider.

“Yeah, Skinny, not small. You’re not five Drake” Josh bites back. His legs are on both sides of Drake's body as he pulls on the backrest, digging his finger into the metal ball ignoring the burning pain that printed into his skin— turning red.

“You scared me okay! you hit my rib”

“Because you kicked me in my nuts!”

“Well excuse me for saving the world from tiny Joshies” the Guitarist wheezes, his face turning red while trying to pull his head out. Seriously though, what was he thinking?

“Think I’d be returning the world a favor if I leave you stuck here?” Josh asks in a calm voice, threatening, evidence somewhere within’ his voice but his continued action on getting the backrest off his brother's neck meant something else.

Drake keeps his mouth shut.

After successfully getting Drake unstuck after about fifteen odd minutes (with the help of Crazy Steve— if Drake claims that he didn’t pee a little on himself out of fear, he didn’t) the boys managed to finish the rest of the movie after an hour, after that hour Josh went back to work and after two more hours Drake waited for Josh to finish up work so he could drive him home.

Silence filled the car, while they cruised down the road passing streetlights and freeways. After a bit, Drake starts to snicker to himself as he pulls up to a red light drumming his fingers against the wheel. Josh cranes his neck to look over at his stepbrother. His brows drew together with a small smile creeping onto his face, the corners of his eyes crinkling a bit.

“What’s so funny?” He asks his voice light and joyful.

“Oh, nothing it’s just that, my head being stuck in between the seats reminded me of something,” Drake says, talking under his breath like he’s embarrassed, which is news to Josh— Drake doesn’t get flustered much, he makes it his mission to make others flushed.

“What did it remind you of?” His brother questions, seeing the way his head tilts a bit in his preveal vision. The street light casts a soft glow on his face.

“Don’t hit me.”

“I’m not gonna.”

“You don’t know that”

Josh snorts through his nose.

“Just tell me.”

“Well… it kinda reminded me of this porno where this smoking hot mom gets stuck in the dryer and her stepson or was it son in law?… anyway he supposably tries to help her get unstuck but of course, it’s a porno so the plot doesn’t make sense, and she could obviously get out by herself and him fucking her doesn’t make sense with how it’s supposed to help her predicament but— anyway I’m getting sidetracked— my point is—.”

“You have a point?.”

“Shut up— anyway— my point is that me getting stuck like that just gave me that image, the only difference is that you actually helped, not saying that you wouldn’t have but— I mean— I’m gonna stop talking” Drake finished with a huff feeling as if he’s digging a grave for himself the more he talks, eyes still on the road, feeling the burning gaze of his brother on the side of his face.

Silence fills the car again, Drake could feel his cheek start to color. When is this light gonna turn green for crying out loud?

“Drake… you are the most unserious person I know…” Josh says, voice soft and quiet. Soft out of disappointment or amusement? Drake doesn’t know. He can’t really tell sometimes.

Drake side-eyes Josh. Josh is looking dead at him.

When the light finally turns green, Drake doesn’t hesitate to start driving again. After some time when the boys reached the curb of their house, Drake noticed that Josh's eyes were deep sea blue with specks of swamp green around his pupils.

He doesn’t bother to think about why he confused Rochelle’s eyes for Josh’s.

Drake Parker is an unserious person, so when Josh tells Drake that he’s gonna start working out again. Drake couldn’t help but laugh from the top of his loft, looking down at his brother who was wearing his old gym clothes with dumbbells by his black sneakers. Josh's jaw slack eyes squinted searching for the secret joke Drake seems to only be aware of.

“What’s so funny?” Josh questions, his eyes squinting more to the point Drake couldn’t make out the color anymore.

“You wanna work out,” Drake says, still laughing a bit, his cheeks heating up from how hard he was smiling. His hand gripping the neck of his guitar, one leg kicked over the other like a weird-looking P.

“Yeah… Why is that so funny?”

“I just don’t see why you would want to, you fucked up your foot last time. It looked like an angry grape that disliked being attached to you” Drake laughs, imagining Josh's messed up foot from two years ago.

“The only reason why my foot got messed up was because you shot me with your potato launcher!” Josh explains, flailing his arms in a wide motion trying to make Drake see the bigger picture.

“Which you gave to Megan, thanks a lot by the way” Drake replies sarcastically.

“I didn’t trust you with it” Josh huffs as he begins to bend over to grab the dumbbells readying himself as the instructor on the TV speaks.

“And yet you trust our evil prankster little sister with it instead, Ah yes ‘cause that makes perfect sense Josh” Drake scoffs not understanding Josh's logic sometimes, he was supposed to be the smart one out of them.

“Why are you working out anyway? you look perfectly fine to me” Drake shares, facing his attention back down on his guitar as he messes with some of the strings, trying to find a new tune. Singing a few words in his head as he strums along like there’s no issue.

“Because I’m getting big again” Josh lifts the barbell on the count of three holding the object above his chest and holding his breath.

Drake snorts “Yeah, sure, and I’m malnourished— Breathe Josh”.

Josh gasps, taking a deep breath. Soon dropping the barbell, without crushing his foot this time taking lines of air through his nose and out his mouth.

“You know what malnourished means— actually scratch that, you know the word malnourished?” Josh asked, sounding genuinely shocked. Which makes Drake roll his eyes in subtle annoyance and irritation.

He knows those words probably mean the same thing but he doesn’t care much about that little fact.

Yes, he does.

He knows his grades are shit but Jesus Christ a little faith would be nice.

“Ha ha you’re so funny,” he says giving Josh a sarcastic smile as he looks up from his guitar, flashing all his white teeth. It was Josh’s turn to roll his eyes.

“Anyway as I was saying, you look fine to me, sure you’re getting chubby around the face but so what? You look fine man so if someone is giving you a hard…” Drake slowly stops talking when it hits him, he starts to squint at Josh who seems to think the floor under them is interesting now.

“Josh”

“Hm?”

“Is someone… making fun of you dude?” Drake asks as he stares at his friend, tilting his head.

Josh looks up to meet Drake's eyes, opening and closing his mouth trying to get words to come out only air leaving his lips as he sputters.

“Who?” Drake asks.

“No one I just wanted to—.”

“You’re not big Josh, you just got a bit wider that’s all,” Drake says his brows drawing close to each other, he lays the guitar on his bed, leaning forward making the box spring squeak from the shifting weight. “So I’ll ask again, who’s making fun of you?” Drake says with more authority.

“No one.”

“Ah yes ‘cause I’m supposed to believe that after three years of building confidence and wanting to lose weight on your own accord and reaching that said goal someone didn’t manage to Wiggle their way into that large head of yours after you gained the slightest bit of weight from eating— which by the I don’t see at all, so I don’t know what they're seeing” Drake speaks. It didn’t make sense to him, Josh looked fine, he was just getting fat in his cheeks, and that was mostly because Josh started to eat unhealthy for the last week.

After Mindy broke up with him, again.

And Drake asked Megan to ship her to Australia, again. Josh didn’t need to know that of course.

“Drake” Josh sighs, eyes closed while he rubs his temple.

“Come on man— don’t look at me like that— Josh— hey! don’t walk away from me!” Drake calls after as he hops down from his loft chasing his brother out of their room.

It took three weeks, including some help from his devious little sister. But Drake found who was making his brother feel shit about himself, like yes okay. When Drake first became brothers with Josh he thought he was a geek— a nerd sure and he would make fun of him for it but he never once made fun of Josh for his weight, he understood how self-conscious he was about it even when he would seem confident with it. How he would walk the halls with that big goofy smile that Drake came far to adore, smiling himself when he would see it. It was an innocent sweet smile, it was better than Drake’s and his mischievous smile along with his charming one, he won’t tell that to Josh out loud of course— he still has a reputation to uphold.

What was saying?

Oh, right!

Drake never made fun of Josh for his weight, and he found out who was the jack-off who had been making fun of Josh’s newly gained weight— which again, wasn’t bad! He’s only a little wider! And has chubby cheeks again! he’s a fucking semi teddy bear!.

Clark Housewhite was the asshole's name, he was a senior with no brain— which leads to his first question, who the hell has a last name like Housewhite? What was his ancestor’s thinking? Drake stood by his locker looking for the tall brunette, Drake had Chemistry right now but couldn’t bring himself to care for which he knew he’s gonna get an earful from Josh and their teacher for later. Clark usually went to the bathroom around this time and that was the perfect time to strike.

Drake was in the middle of clipping his nails when he heard the sound of heavy boots hitting the floor, making Drake's head shoot up, flicking his head to the side to move his bangs out of his face. He’s taller than Drake gave him credit for but hey, fuck it.

Drake clears his throat when Clark nearly passes him. Clark stops in his tracks and slowly turns towards Drake, Drake’s still leaning against his locker as he watches the jock's eyes meet his. The guitarist gave the larger gentleman a smooth smile.

“Clark, can I talk to you for a second?” Drake requests, holding onto the strap of his backpack as he pushes himself off from the lockers not breaking eye contact.

“Um… sure? Whatcha need dude?”.

When Josh got home he instantly rushed upstairs to tell Drake something, shouting a quick hi to his parents over his shoulder as he stormed up the stairs greeting Megan who was in the middle of exiting her room, screaming when Josh nearly ran her over, calling him a boob. Josh wasn't phased, he was more attentive in telling Drake the news not being able to do so sooner since Drake disappeared from school around chemistry. Josh throws open their room door with a giant grin on his face.

“Drake you won't believe what happened, some moron thought it was clever to start a fight with Clark Whitehouse— which by the way is a weird last name but hey, anyway, he had the meanest black eye ever. No one has ever once landed a hit on him, whoever did has a mean fist—.” Josh said excitedly while he was setting his book bag down on his bed taking out his textbooks and assignments that were due in a week, stopping mid-sentence when he looked up toward his brother's bed dropping a textbook on his mattress when he took in Drake's current appearance. Drake's back was pressed against the wall of his bed, arm in a sling and cast, face battered and bruised a split lip— his left eye swollen shut, the right almost unscratched but also closed. Did he fall asleep like that?

Josh slowly walks over to Drake’s bed climbing the ladder. He was careful to not make too much noise if his brother was sleeping.

“Drake,” he says softly, Drake doesn't react. Josh places a hand on Drake's ankle, softly shaking him.

“Drake?” he says, keeping his voice gentle. Drake groans in response, slowly opening his eyes— well eye… his good eye.

“Wha?…” he asked, his voice groggy and filled with exhaustion.

“You were the wise guy who got into a fight with Clark?…”

“…No”

Josh smiles, that knowing smile that has Drake avoiding eye contact. Which makes him grimace in pain.

“Thank you, Drake” he smiles warmly.

“I have no idea what you're talking about,” the teen said in a monotone voice, not looking at Josh still, ignoring that kind smile he knows he doesn't deserve half of the time. His heart drummed in his ears.

Josh shakes his head climbing up the rest of the ladder to help Drake lay back on the bed. It was the least he could do for the guy after getting his butt kicked by a guy who was twice his size. Drake grumbled a thank you, hissing when he twisted incorrectly.

Josh doesn't question how Drake knew it was Clark, but later when he brings up a can of doctor fizz for Drake and sees Megan sitting on the bed near her brother brushing his bangs from his face in a gentle manner, it helps with his hypothesis on how Drake found out. A smile creeps on his face when he hears Megan say something about shipping Clark to Ohio by tomorrow morning, watching Drake give the young girl a lazy smile, shoulders shaking in weak laughter while he says something to Megan that he can't quite hear but judging by Megan's pout. Drake said no. Megan lifts Drake's hand slowly and carefully— his good hand and presses a soft kiss on his red knuckles, blowing air on them.

If Josh's memory serves him correctly, he remembers Drake telling him a story about how when Megan and himself were kids– when Megan still loved him he claimed— when Megan would get hurt and cry and run to her big brother for comfort, Drake would kiss her booboos then blow on them, and gift her with a huge smile and ask ‘Pain Gone Meg Meg?’ and she would nod and hug him tight. Seeing the way Drake's eyes get glossy, he could tell the motion brought back those memories.

Josh silently backs away from the room leaving the Parker siblings alone, it was always nice to see the two get along. Maybe not when they're messing with Josh.

Drake is an unserious person, just not with Josh’s weight apparently.

Drake is an unserious person so when Megan ends up telling Drake about some dude named Jacob Reff who broke up with her— seriously what's with dudes and having weird names?

He busted out laughing, one hand on his stomach and the other on his knee. Wheezing, tears in his eyes as his laughter continues— lungs burning from his joy. Almost cackling. Megan stares at Drake, still sitting on the couch of their living room, her puffy red eyes squinted at him, watching the way her brother seems to lose it over her pain. She guesses it's deserved.

Drake coughs and hacks a couple of times, Megan raises a brow while he does. Drake wipes a tear from his eye, seeming to get himself under control. Clearing his throat as he pats his chest.

“I’m sorry, I'm sorry,” he says trying to keep a straight face but snickers nonetheless, shoulders shaking as he breathes heavily from his nose.

“You done?” Megan asked, her tone annoyed.

“Nope,” Drake answers truthfully as he resumes laughing all over again. Megan huffs as she wipes her tear-stained face.

“Did he finally find out that you're a she-demon in disguise of a thirteen-year-old?” Drake questions, taking deep breaths. Shit his side hurt from laughing so hard. Megan glares at him, a strangled sound making itself known in the back of her throat as she stands from the couch, walks up to her brother, and kicks him in the knee hard replacing Drake's laughter with a grunt.

“You are such a boob” she bites out, masking her hurt with anger as she brushes past Drake and towards the stairs to hide away in her room.

“Hey, it's not my fault you decided to date some idiot with a stupid name. He didn't deserve you anyway!” Drake calls after her, but his words fall on deaf ears, Megan is too mad to hear her brother's stupid words. He's a jerk. He never takes anything seriously.

The next day at school Megan walks towards her locker to get her books for homeroom after she collects her items she readies herself to start heading to homeroom stopping dead in her tracks when she hears rattling from around the intersection of lockers, on normal days Megan would mind her business but for some reason this time she wanted to see what the commotion was. Megan walks towards the corner peeking her head around the corner, eyes landing on Jacob who was struggling with getting his locker open. Megan wanted to duck back behind the corner of the lockers and carry on with her day, seeing Jacob filled her with unwanted pain and resentment, an old saying from Drake floating in her head.

"We're Parkers, we don't get our hearts broken. We break them instead” That was after a girl Drake liked— someone he actually saw a future with broke his heart. Amelia Tomson. Megan hated her. And still hates her, she feels she's the thing that set a change in her big brother's personality, not just their father who walked out on them.

Megan didn't like this feeling, this angry twisting feeling in her chest, continuing to watch Jacob struggle with his locker, the preteen sighed about to walk away but gasped at what happened next. It all happened within a second but for Megan? That shit was in slow motion.

When Jacob finally managed to get his locker open, his jet-black hair was suddenly covered in deep red liquid spreading out from the impact, painting the area around him, from the inside of his locker to the floor to a bit of the ceiling. Other students stopped and gawked at Jacob. Megan's jaw was unhinged, deep brown eyes wide as she stared. She looked past his profile looking at the note that was taped on the inside of his locker door, seeing a small handmade gadget that even a five-year-old could make. Megan read the note.

“I heard that you like red”.

Megan looks at the floor noticing a sharp pencil discarded on it, catching a red glimmer on the tip, a purple rubber band loosely wrapped around the metal part of the eraser— wait— her brain stops for a second, a rubber band, a makeshift gadget that looks like a slingshot, a sharp pencil preferably sharpened to a shorter length, odd liquid… all that was missing was… Megan looks up towards the ceiling above Jacob's locker. And yep there it is!, a ripped blue balloon that was securely taped by three layers of tape on the mouthpiece. There was only one person she knew who would pull such a thing, who taught her that prank when she was only four and it had her laughing for days that she advanced into her own with a paintball machine.

Drake.

Wait… if Drake did this doesn't that mean that he…

Jacob screams in disgust. “Raw fish!!” the boy yells as he runs down the hall taking chunks of meat out of his hair and racing to the bathroom. His face was stained with droplets of liquid, the smell of raw seafood following the boy. Megan scrunched her nose laughing to herself, if Megan was guessing the right fish that her brother picked, Jacob wasn't gonna get that smell out of his hair or off him anytime soon.

Since the show was sadly over, Megan starts to head to homeroom, slowly stopping when she remembers what Drake said last night, what she blocked out when she was aggravated at him for being an ass.

‘He didn't deserve you anyway!’ Drake's voice echoes in her head, bringing a small smile to her face.

When Megan returns home and walks down the hallway towards her room, she stops and turns on her heels heading towards Drake and Josh’s room, she enters the room unannounced, Josh is doing his homework on his bed and Drake is sitting on the couch messing with his guitar like he usually does on Friday afternoons. He seemed to be playing something somber at the moment, it's a blurry memory but she believes their dad used to play that tune. Megan silently walks up from behind towards her brother, wrapping her arms loosely around his shoulders, pressing her cheek against the top of Drake's head, tightening her arms just a bit around him, and pressing a kiss on top of his head after. His hair tickling her nose, smelled a bit like lavender, he must borrow Josh's bath soap.

Drake presses a hand on Megan's arm, softly rubbing it as if this isn't something new for them.

“You alright Megan?” he questions cautiously, like something was gonna happen like Megan was planning something and it was gonna happen after his baby sister either let him go or didn't. The thought made Megan laugh a bit, smiling.

“Yeah, I just love you,” she says in a soft voice, one Drake and Josh aren't used to. It makes Drake uneasy but that doesn't stop Drake from… comforting his sister?.

Megan gives him one last squeeze before she releases him, messing with his hair, and walks out of the room without another word.

Megan wasn't too far, she could still hear her boobish brothers talking.

“Is she sick?” was the first thing Josh asked

“I don't know… is a piece of my hair missing?” Drake followed up which made Megan snicker, of course, Drake would worry about his hair.

“I feel like I just got the touch of death… if I die bury me with my guitar,” Drake says, sounding a little freaked out.

Megan rolled her eyes fondly at her idiot brother, but in her own way, she loved and adored him. Josh as well but you get what she means.

Her amazing, unserious brother. Who can get pretty serious when he wants to.

Drake Parker is an unserious person. And it bites him in the ass. But truthfully, he feels like this time it's not even his fault.

Drake rubs his eyes tiredly from beneath his glasses—don't laugh at him— his head hurts and so does his body, his brain feels like it was on a stove in a pot filled with boiling water. It felt too stuffy for him. Drake Parker, musician and singer a teen who could write nearly a hundred songs within a day couldn't write a simple fucking essay on what gives his life meaning and what brings him peace and warmth when he feels like he's gonna sink into the depth of darkness that creeps in the back of his mind like a toxic ex that would visit him in the debts of night, that would attack him on the day a certain deadbeat left his and Megans life forever, shit the giraffe on his back burned from thinking about him.

A lot of people would say and claim that Drake was a free spirit, he gets through life with his charm and good looks alone. But he knows the hidden message behind those words. He's nothing special and no one special, so what if he can sing and play the guitar, even the drums? That's not gonna help him in the near future…

What if his dream doesn't work out… it's not like he had a backup plan, he wasn't like Josh or that creature that wears a skirt, Mindy.

School wasn't made for Drake, so what would make him believe that he could survive college?

Ugh, when did he get so depressed? Jesus.

What was he doing? The blurriness begins to clear up after he blinks a couple of times meeting with the blank page of his paper, oh, right, his essay…

Something that makes him happy… Something that gives him meaning and that warm feeling. He could always write about music but that feels like an obvious statement that would land him a big fat F anyway with Ms. Hayfer and her booger-infested nose. Truthfully it doesn't matter what he writes, he’ll get an F either way since the old bat just fucking hates him that much, even when he does get the answers right. It's amazing that for the past four years, none of the teachers ever noticed that he was practically failing at a class not because he was simply bad at it but because a sad pathetic woman who needs to get the attitude screwed out of her or something hates his guts for no real reason.

The next thing he knew his notebook was flying across the room from his bed toward the door, which for some reason Josh decided to walk in at the worst moment ever, the black school notebook hit Josh right in the bridge of his nose making Josh face switch from that happy go

lucky look to a look of pain, groaning as he held his face, Drake flinched when it hit Josh, grimacing at the sound of impact.

“Ow, dude what was that for?” Josh questions, pain in his tone and irritation ringing somewhere in there. His eyes are hard as they stare at Drake then ease up when he watches the expression on his face. Drake's eyes were red and puffy, bitterness swimming in those dark brown eyes, cheeks red, the vein in the center of his head bulging out.

Josh leans forward picking up the abandoned book, striding across the room towards Drake’s bed.

“Sorry, why was your face where my book was going?” was the first thing Drake said when Josh reached the ladder, rubbing his eyes beneath his glasses again, and letting out an uneasy breath. His head was throbbing.

Josh ignores the comment, more concerned about why his brother looks like he is on the verge of crying, Drake wasn't one to cry. Hiding his more troubling emotions with charm and charisma, bad puns, and childish games.

“Wanna talk about it?” Josh questions, handing Drake back his notebook, the musician gratefully taking it from his hold mumbling a thank you as he tosses the book somewhere on his bed. Running his fingers through his hair pushing his bangs back.

“No, it doesn't matter man”

“You assaulted me with a notebook and my nose hurts”

“How was I supposed to know you were gonna open the door as soon as I threw the book?”

And they were bickering. It only lasted three minutes due to Josh climbing up the ladder and pressing his hand over Drake's mouth to shut him up.

Drake's eyebrows go up to his hairline, squinting at Josh after.

Josh removes his hand slowly, not breaking eye contact, eyes laser-focused.

“Gonna ask again, what's up?”

“This stupid essay man, it's half of my grade and I have no idea what the hell to write. It's not like it matters regardless since Ms. Hayfer makes it her life goal to make mine a living hell— failing me every chance she gets. Might as well not write anything at all” he says, his face going through the motion of every emotion he's feeling at that exact moment— Josh watches with an unchanging expression.

“Drake…”

“No! It doesn't matter, Josh. No matter what I write I'm gonna get an F and fail and go to summer school then fail summer school and repeat the twelfth grade as you are at some big shot college like Stanford or Yale or Harvard or whatever smart college for brainy yacks like yourself and that creature along with Craig and Eric and not be my manager anymore ‘cause you'd be busy doing something better for yourself and forget all about me as I'm some loser who couldn't graduate on time because I didn't take school seriously and some sad teacher has it out for me!” he blurts out as he shoots up from his bed-hopping off the side of the large platform, landing gracefully on the floor with a thud. Heading towards the door slamming it behind him when he exits.

What… What just happened?

Josh was left stunned.

Drake Parker is an unserious person, so when he receives his diploma from Ms. Hayfer herself he has the biggest shit-eating grin on his face, his burgundy cap snug on his head, the tassel tickling his ear. Hand on the other side of the diploma, that his teacher seems to be having a hard time giving him, a small game of tug a war happening between them, Drake manages to rip it out of her hold with one last firm tug, his smile never changing. Ms. Hayfer gave him a bitter forced smile, making Drake wanna double over in laughter, enjoying the struggle the witch was going through watching him graduate on time— which is mostly thanks to Josh who made sure he didn't give up after his little break down a month ago.

“Say it,” he says, a smile still present on his face.

Ms. Hayfer lets out an annoyed sigh, her face souring.

“Congratulations” she mumbles

Drake cups the back of his ear leaning to her a bit mocking an innocent look.

“I'm sorry I didn't quite catch that, mind repeating that?” Drake asks, puckering his lips the way Josh does when he knows he's being a little shit. He could hear his peers behind him snicker at his silly comment.

“Congratulations for graduating Drake Parker,” she says, sounding like she was choking on the words as she said them.

Drake's arms shoot up in the arm as he does his battle cry reaching pitches no other normal human could reach. Cheering.

“WOOHOO! I MADE IT BABY!!” He cheers happily making everyone laugh, bowing to the audience, the laughter growing.

Right as Drake is about to step off the stage, he hears it before he sees it. A high-pitched whistle then a wet splat, his jaw drops when an orange paintball hits Ms. Hayfer right in the side of her face, making her cry out, small drops landing on her black blazer that had gold stripes. Drake couldn't hold it in, he let out a high-pitched laugh pointing at the woman with his diploma, the auditorium filled with laughter from students and families. He runs off the stage before she can even grab him, laughing the whole way down the steps, circling the stage cheering, family, educators, and students joining in his cheer as he races to his assigned seat, high-fiving Trevor who sits next to him. Drake notices Josh a few rows down smirking, following Josh's view he notices Megan who wears the same smirk down in the audience, holding something small and silver in her manicured hands.

Oh, oh he loves them.

After the ceremony, students are standing with their families outside of the school hugging one another and cheering. Drake was just finishing up hugging Audrey and Walter— squeezing his little sister for the first time since forever— she let him— pressing a firm kiss on the crown of her head, earning himself a soft punch to his rib, making him laugh.

He hears him before he sees him.

“Hug me brotha!!” Josh says in that weird goofy voice he does like he's making an announcement. Drake curled his head so fast that he could feel the muscle in his neck sprain. Eyes wide and bright racing to Josh in max speed practically jumping in his arms and hugging the other tight, as Josh held him up in the air hugging him just as tight, like when they were fourteen and first became brothers and instead of screaming out of fear, Drake screams out of excitement and pure joy. Josh proudly held Drake up in the air, Drake for once not caring if anyone saw them, this moment was one that he will forever remember. And he had no issue with that.

“We made it dude!”

The sound of a camera going off happens, but neither one could care less. Just happy. Giant smiles on their faces.

March 8th, 2015, Drake Parker is twenty-four and is still a very unserious person. Not by choice, he came to realize that on his own. Maybe a little .

Drake was currently sitting in a leather seat, elbow resting on the arm of the chair, mouth kissing his knuckles, attention fully on the stage before him. He could feel his heart jackhammering against his chest plate, threatening to break through and let itself known to the world like some scene out of a horror flick. Now he wants to watch a horror movie when he goes home. Nice.

Drake counts back from ten all the way to one, practicing his breathing exercise that his therapist taught him after his car accident back in 2008. Drake takes a couple of deep breaths, flinching— nearly jumping out his skin when he feels a gentle hand rub his arm in a soothing manner.

Drake opens his eyes again looking towards his left where his little sister was sitting, Megan was looking at him with a gentle expression. Smiling at him in a way that reminds him of their mother— which he’s thankful for— kind tender eyes on her newly mature features, it feels like it was only yesterday that she was nine and tormenting him and Josh. Drake looked past Megan to see their parents talking in hushed tones but they seemed happy enough, unaware of how nervous their son seemed to be. Drake closes his eyes for a moment again, exhaling and opening his eyes again. He nods towards his sister, she returns the gesture removing her hand folding them together on her lap, her posture remaining straight. Smoothing out her white dress after a bit, checking herself out in her compact mirror checking if she had any loose strands of hair in her high ponytail. Putting it away when she doesn’t find any. It almost makes Drake laugh.

And she says he’s obsessed with his hair, little brat.

Drake shakes his head, paying attention to the stage again. Listening for who won a Grammy from each category of music.

That’s right you heard him. Drake Parker is sitting in a chair at the Grammys in Hollywood. When Josh got the call and told Drake, Drake couldn’t believe it. He still can’t.

He never thought he would officially meet the queen herself, Beyoncé!. And don’t get him started on the Princess of Pop Britney Spears. When she first spoke to him on the red carpet Drake felt as if he was on cloud nine, and when she hugged him, it was all over— Drake thought he was gonna pass out, if Josh was with him he knew his stepbrother would’ve laughed at him. Especially if he got to witness how red he turned when Beyoncé told him he was so handsome.

If anyone was to ask Drake if he was a Yoncè and Britney fan instead of just rock and roll— the blues, a bit of jazz and classical music, the last one thanks to Josh. He will deny it till the day he dies and just say he respects them and their craft.

Drake clicks back into focus when he sees Bruno Mars walk up to the podium after Selena Gomez performance, clapping along with the crowd, even though he has not a single clue what she sang.

“Thank you Selena for that wonderful performance” Bruno Mars says, with his charming smile clapping with the audience, his tan skin somewhat red from the beating lights.

“And now with great honor I would like to announce the Grammy winner for best selling song for rock, number one best seller, top of the charts on build boards!” Everyone holds their breaths, Drake tenses up in his seat watching as Bruno opens up the golden envelope, his smile never changing.

“And the Grammy goes to… rising star Drake Parker I Found A Way!!” Bruno announces with a cheer, Drake jaw drops as everyone else around him cheers, clapping the starting intro of the song starts playing. Drake looked around, his mind not keeping up, Megan was shaking his arm in excitement telling him to go. Drake stands cleaning his throat as he fixes his black suit and navy blue tie adjusting his circular glasses that framed his face perfectly— Megan’s personal touch. The navy tie, Josh’s idea. The shiny dress shoes his mother helped with.

Drake hugs Megan who pats his back, pressing a soft kiss against his mothers cheek and shakes Walters hand with a big grin on his face pulling away as he walks out his row and down the aisle towards the stage fixing his side bangs as he walks up the steps of the stage walking towards Bruno, accepting the Grammy in one hand shaking Bruno’s hand in the other side hugging him stepping up to the mic. Looking at the hundreds rows of celebrities, staring up at him and smiling at him in encouragement.

“I… heh” Drake clears his throat, a watery smile climbing his face.

“Shit I honestly don’t know what to say it’s just that— I didn’t think I would win y’know? I didn’t think I would make it, thought I would have to wax surfboards and probably work at a run down diner that no one really knows about but has the best pie” Drake says, laughing a bit, causing the rest to laugh with him.

“I.. listen I downplay a lot of things and I take a lot of things unseriously but this? This moment right here? Is the most serious thing that has ever happened to me, besides becoming a big brother, becoming a brother to someone else and having to share my room for five years with that person. Actually making it through high school and graduating on time”

Drake wipes his eyes from under his glasses.

“Stupid tears”. That earns another chorus of laughs.

“Sorry sorry, anyway this Grammy doesn’t just count as my achievement and success. This Grammy counts as an achievement for the best manager and step brother in the whole entire world. Josh Nichols who sadly can’t share this moment with me tonight since he had a highly important test today— get that degree bro. I wouldn’t have made it up till now without you brother thank you! I love you!” Drake holds the Grammy up with a giant smile, tears running down his cheeks freely, voice cracking.

“To all the people that didn’t in believe me, fuck you I made it you hating ass bitches, special shout out to my English teacher Ms. Hayfer and the creature that wears a skirt and claims she’s a girl Mindy Crenshaw. Much love to my biggest haters couldn’t have done this without ya either” He chuckles, everyone claps and cheers.

“And Josh if you happen to be watching, I would say I’m sorry but come on… we both know I’d be lying. Thank you Hollywood and my family goodnight!” He finishes off, walking off the stage as his song plays again as he holds up his Grammy while the people laughed and cheered making his way back to his seat.

Was Drake Parker still an unserious person?, yes. Was he still petty after a couple of years?. Yes.