#older sibling angst hurts on a different level

[xnightlynyxx]

I want to talk about a certain parallel between Robin and Griffin. Warning: Major Spoilers Ahead

Following Ramy’s death we see the definite shift in Robin’s morals and the way he views life overall. It’s after this point that he begins to really struggle to see a future for himself. And once he begins craving violent revenge, we see his actions and ideologies begin to mimic Griffin’s closely.

And I’m wondering how Griffin felt about his own future when he was alive. Because it seems like he threw himself completely to the mercy of the cause, and we know that he’s constantly getting hurt, not sleeping, not eating, and I feel like it seems as though he doesn’t see himself as a person that is alive, but rather as a tool for the cause.

So I want to assume that after he fails the silver working exam, and especially after he kills Evie, he stops believing in a future for himself the same way Robin can’t seem to fathom a future without Ramy and Griffin. Because of this, Griffin isn’t afraid of death, and the way he’s living is a subconscious form of self-harm.

Now, I do think Griffin would agree with Ramy, in that dying would be the easy way out and would do no good for the cause, but Griffin also doesn’t seem to actively avoid death. His face-off with Sterling is brutally short, and Griffin was more than willing to sacrifice himself for Robin and Victoire. I’m definitely extrapolating here, as they were cornered, Robin and Victoire were worn from their time in prison, and the confrontation had heavy emotional history behind it, but it was so sudden that I want to believe there was another way out.

If this is true, I wonder how Griffin reacted to finding Robin? If he was living solely for the cause and entirely not for himself, how did he react to finding out he had a brother to look out for? It could’ve played a role in Griffin’s desire to keep Robin at arm’s length, in order to deny himself another person to live for.

TL;DR Griffin probably wanted to die for the cause because he couldn’t imagine a future for himself the same way Robin did.

[teyamskxawng]

What Once Was [I]

Lo'ak Sully x Fem!Omatikaya!Reader

Neteyam Sully x Fem!Omatikaya!Reader

Part II here

The rundown: The once unbreakable bond between you and Lo'ak is tested as a newfound connection develops between you and Neteyam

Warnings: language, love triangle, jealousy, miscommunication, angst (i think?), Lo'ak can't handle change, Lo'ak is emotionally immature, everyone is kind of oblivious, characters are aged up

WC: 5.0k

A/N: love triangle fic bc i was feeling messy but i'm kind of struggling to write this... i have absolutely no idea how it's going to end, but we're sticking with it i guess

For as long as you can remember, you and Lo'ak have always been inseparable. Born just days apart, it's like you were destined to grow up side by side, practically attached at the hip. From your most embarrassing moments to your proudest achievements, there was, and still is, rarely a time when the two of you aren't together. 

Once a wide-eyed, lanky little girl, you've blossomed into a strong and capable young woman. And it's no different for Lo'ak. The wayward and reckless boy from your childhood has matured both physically and emotionally (sort of) into a man. Neither of you are children anymore. You've outgrown those naive days, stepping into the world of adulthood.

It's all still new and bizarre to you—your sudden awareness of the terrifying looming task of finding a mate, the unexpected influx of second glances and prolonged conversations with the other guys in your clan, the near-constant gossip that there's more to your relationship with Lo'ak than meets the eye. But you figure these little sprinklings of oddities are simply part of the ever-changing journey of growing up. 

And throughout all the confusing changes and inexplicable hormones, Lo'ak continues to be your rock. His enormous smile and infectious laughter remain the same; they still possess the power to brighten even your gloomiest days.

To many, he's the olo'eyktan's son; a direct descendant of the esteemed Toruk Makto; the antithesis of his older brother; some four-fingered anomaly to stare at and whisper about. But to you? You've never defined him by any titles or labels. In your eyes, he's simply Lo'ak: the first person you ever called a friend. Stupidly reckless yet fiercely loyal, easily the most annoying person on Pandora yet the one soul you could never live without—you wouldn't have him any other way.

You're forever intertwined through idyllic shared moments: climbing your way up towering trees until your palms were raw with blisters and hurt like hell, egging each other on to reach risky new speeds and daring new heights while soaring through the sky atop your ikran, spending nights wide awake in adjacent hammocks while trying to hold in your childish giggles over idiotic jokes that no one else could possibly understand. The friendship between you and Lo’ak is steadfast and unwavering; nothing can shake the bond you share.

At least, that's what you thought until Neteyam entered the picture.

In all fairness, Neteyam has always been around. He's like a constant presence, just sort of hovering on the periphery of your life. With him being a year older, it used to seem like an entire lifetime separated you during your childhood years. He bore so much responsibility on his shoulders at such a young age yet still held so much respect and admiration from everyone around him. Destined to become the olo'eyktan of your clan and recognized throughout Pandora as an extraordinary hunter, Neteyam grew up as a literal prodigy in every sense of the word.

And despite growing up alongside him and his siblings, Neteyam's awe-inspiring reputation often still makes him seem larger than life—like an ethereal figure rather than someone deeply connected to so many of your childhood memories. 

You and Neteyam have always been on friendly terms, but you never reached the same level of closeness as you did with Lo'ak, Kiri, or even Tuk. Your interactions with him typically consist of simple hellos whenever you pass each other in the Sully tent, aimless lighthearted conversations during your joint training sessions, or joining forces to playfully (not really) gang up on Lo'ak in a mutual spirit of camaraderie. Even though these moments are undoubtedly positive and enjoyable, they're also few and far between compared to your experiences with the other Sully kids. 

Neteyam always has so much shit to do, so many things to train for, so many duties to obey. You'd be lying if you said you didn't feed into Lo'ak's 'perfect little warrior' quip about Neteyam behind his back.

And when Jake decides to send all of the warriors in your training group on paired week-long hunting trips to put your acquired skills to the test, he doesn't even think twice before shooting down your and Lo'ak's mutual request to team up because he's a heartless, cruel old man he has first-hand experience of the way you and Lo'ak seem to revert back to children in each other's presence. 

Lo'ak gets paired with some stony old head who's over twice his age, while you get paired with Neteyam, which actually is alright with you. Neteyam sends you a warm smile when his father points you his way, and you, in turn, shoot a massive grin back at Lo'ak's sad little face.

The hunting trip goes even better than you could've imagined. Throughout the week-long journey, not only do you make a handful of clean kills, but you also manage to break through some of the emotional barriers that Neteyam has always maintained around himself. Behind his protective walls, when he lets his guard down, he's just like any other Na'vi your age—he's witty, charming, and endearing in his own distinctive way. 

He's also objectively nice to look at.

So it's really no one's business if you find yourself mesmerized by the muscles rippling across his back as he draws his bowstring, aiming at a fish you should be helping him track. Or if you're too busy admiring the way his tanhì glow in the moonlight to register that he's called your name three times in a row without receiving your response. You're an adult; you’re allowed to admire other men. Besides, Neteyam seems to be blissfully unaware of the fact that he's a heartthrob. He's kind of introverted and shy, yet arguably one of Pandora's most genuine and kind-hearted souls. And honestly? You feel kind of stupid for not taking the time to peel back each layer of his carefully crafted facade and build a deeper friendship with him sooner. It's an unexpected companionship that blossoms during those days spent side by side with Neteyam in Pandora's mesmerizing beauty, and it'll forever be a treasured part of your shared memories. 

Upon returning from your week-long hunting trip, it's apparent to just about everyone that something has changed between you and Neteyam. Your bond has deepened, and every moment spent together is more meaningful than before. Your laughter booms louder; your conversations last longer; your shared glances become more playful. To say the experience has brought you closer would be the understatement of the century.

Lo'ak quickly picks up on the not-so-subtle changes in your friendship with his brother. 

The shift in dynamics has left him feeling a confusing mix of emotions—anger, hurt, and maybe even (definitely) a tinge of envy. As he watches his brother grow closer to you, he can't help but feel like he's losing the one stable thing in his life—the one person who never mocked him for his avatar blood, never made him feel like an outcast, never picked his brother over him. 

Not until now. 

It's bullshit. It's like Neteyam doesn't have enough blessings already, like he doesn't have his choice of any other person on Pandora. It just had to be you. With each passing day, Lo'ak feels himself becoming more distant from you and his brother, unsure how to navigate those choppy waters. 

Which brings him to today.

The three of you are together, riding your ikran to scout out an uncharted waterfall that you stumbled across while on a solo hunt earlier that week. You practically begged Lo'ak to go back to the waterfall with you, and despite all the emotional commotion clouding Lo'ak's mind, he still decides to join you, hoping that maybe things will return to normal. Just you and him. What he doesn’t know, however, is that you also invited Neteyam to tag along. It’s a surprise Lo'ak discovers only when he arrives at your meeting spot and finds his brother already there, leaning on his ikran and chatting away with you like the two of you are best friends. Neteyam has a stupid smile plastered on his face as he holds your attention, completely oblivious to his brother’s arrival.

He never intended on slipping into this role—the one left behind. But here he is, grappling with feelings he can't totally name or understand; vulnerability mixed with longing, anger chased by guilt.

Childishly, Lo'ak stands there in silence for a good ten seconds before either of you notice his arrival and finally make room for him in your little group.

"Hey," you greet him, a wide grin spreading across your face. But it goes entirely unnoticed by Lo’ak, whose eyes are dead set on his brother. Maybe if he tries hard enough, he can telepathically tell Neteyam to go away. 

"You didn't say he was coming," Lo'ak mutters, finally glancing in your direction. Because you didn't. He doesn’t even need to say his name; it’s obvious. The two of you never include his brother in your outings.

Your enthused expression falters at Lo'ak's noticeable lack of excitement or even a simple 'hello' in response to your greeting. 

"No…" you begin hesitantly, your eyes darting back and forth between the two brothers before settling once more on Lo'ak. "But Jake got called to High Camp and canceled Neteyam's training session, so I figured he could join us instead."

It must be obvious that your words haven't exactly won Lo'ak over because, at his continued silence, you add, "You know he never gets a break."

Lo'ak's jaw clenches as he just stands there, motionless and marinating in his stubborn silence. In his head, he's cussing out his dad and Max and Norm and everyone else in High Camp for ruining his afternoon. Lo'ak frustratedly bites the inside of his cheek to keep the expletives in before calling out to his ikran. As he waits for his ride, he's still silent and brooding and completely ignoring both you and his brother.

The high-pitched shriek of his banshee echoes off the trees as it approaches from a nearby cliff. It swoops down and lands gracefully in front of Lo'ak, and he reaches out to scratch it behind the ear without a word. Only then does he finally lift his gaze to find you and Neteyam staring at him in bewildered silence.

Neteyam's previously wide eyes squint in confusion when Lo'ak locks eyes with him. Struggling to find the right words, Neteyam asks carefully, "Is that okay with you?" His voice is slow and cautious, as if one wrong move might set Lo'ak off.

Lo'ak responds with a deep sigh that echoes through the air, not even bothering to hide his irritation. Reaching over his shoulder for his queue, he connects to and mounts his ikran in a flash of silent, swift movements. After settling on its back and letting the tense silence steep for a few moments, Lo'ak answers his brother's inquiry with an annoyed shrug of his shoulders and an uptight "Sure."

So, to say that Lo'ak was pissed would be an understatement. 

A bubbling cauldron of jealousy and resentment brewed inside him throughout the entire flight to the waterfall. And as all three of you land your ikran onto a nearby patch of grass, his blood continues to seethe with envy. Lo’ak grabs his queue and separates the connection between himself and his ikran. Immediately after doing so, the ikran emits a sharp hiss directly in his face. The creature then abruptly shifts its gaze, evidently fed up about sharing Lo'ak's unnerving emotions through their bond. Lo'ak knows it's immature to be so upset over something so seemingly insignificant, but it still gnaws at him relentlessly. So much so that the prospect of seeing the waterfall doesn't even excite him anymore. The entire outing feels overshadowed by the looming presence of his brother. 

Clearly though, you feel the complete opposite way. You're practically vibrating in anticipation, each beat of your ikran's wings drawing you closer to the ground. As soon as you land, you hurriedly shower your ikran in affection with a few loving pats on its flank before quickly dismounting and happily leading the way toward the waterfall.

Lo'ak and Neteyam have to jog a little to keep up with your enthusiastic pace as you navigate through the dense forest landscape. You're a good ten steps ahead of them, deftly bobbing and weaving beneath low-hanging branches while simultaneously working to untie the armband from around your bicep. Your figure keeps disappearing from Lo'ak's view—vanishing behind veils of cascading leaves one moment and leaping over boulders the next as you determinedly forge ahead. It’s like you’ve never been outside before.

Finally, he catches sight of you, standing triumphantly at the base of a colossal rocky wall. Rising above you is a mind-blowing waterfall that makes Lo'ak pause in his tracks. It stands so tall and roars so loud that he momentarily forgets all about his shitty mood. No amount of grumbling or sarcasm can compete with, or diminish, the raw power of the wonder that lies before him. A thick mist envelops the base where the water comes crashing down, blurring the boundary between the waterfall and the pool below. Beams of daylight pierce through the airborne water droplets, casting vibrant spectrums of color that seem almost alive as they dance across the expanse of the creek.

Using both hands, you gather your braids away from your face and retrieve the armband from its position clenched firmly between your teeth. Your back faces Lo'ak as you drink in the mesmerizing sight before you, and your excitement is practically bubbling over as you shout over the roar of the waterfall, "Isn't it amazing? I told you, I've never seen anything so beautiful." 

The blend of mist, light, and color casts a glowing halo around your figure as you secure your hair with the band, and Lo'ak is momentarily entranced. His breaths are a little shallow as he nods wordlessly at your back, not really processing your words, but fully convinced of them nonetheless. 

Your head tilts back as you crane your neck to further examine the sprawling wall of rock. "It's kind of a climb to get to the top," you warn. Lo'ak can practically see the gears turning in your head as you map out the best route up, the strategic warrior in you taking over. When your focused attention finally returns to Lo'ak and Neteyam, there's a mischievous twinkle in your eyes. "We should race," you challenge them with a grin.

The rugged, nearly vertical incline is intimidating but definitely doable. Lo'ak knows you're a skilled climber; the two of you spent your childhood scaling trees together. He fondly recalls days spent scrambling up trees and challenging each other to reach the highest branches. It felt like the biggest accomplishment in the world when you'd both reach the summit of Hometree. You'd bask in the view of the forest from the canopy until your parents inevitably tracked you down and scolded you for your reckless behavior.

You practically made climbing trees your entire personalities until Lo'ak's dumbass had to go and fall out of one. It left him with a nasty purple bruise that was way too big to hide, and when he went to his grandmother for healing, you were both unceremoniously banned from your cherished little hobby. It wasn't even that high up, but you've never let him live it down—constantly (and only half-jokingly) claiming that the accident is the sole reason he's a little off in the head.

The memory makes Lo'ak's lips twitch into a grin, and he's about to remind you of that nostalgic day when Neteyam speaks up.

"I guess it's good we didn’t invite monkey boy," Neteyam says, entirely serious. He's gazing up at the rocky enclosure in determination, raising a hand to shield his eyes from the harsh daylight before turning back to face you.

Your face scrunches up in confusion as you ask, “Who?”

Neteyam just nods at you before clarifying, “Spider.”

Lo'ak watches as you're silent for a few beats before you break out into a slow, wide grin and let out a loud snort of laughter. 

Lo'ak has to physically restrain himself from rolling his eyes, because nothing that Neteyam said warranted that kind of reaction. The remark wasn't even supposed to be funny; their whole family has been calling Spider by that nickname ever since he was little. But of course, the first time you hear that piece of information, it has to come from none other than Neteyam. And Lo'ak just has to stand there in silence like a third wheel for the umpteenth time that day. 

You’re barely able to string together words through your uncontrollable bubbles of laughter. "My Eywa," you gasp out, your eyes squeezed shut as you shake your head in disbelief. Finally catching your breath, you implore him lightheartedly, "You need to tell jokes more often, Neteyam. I’m serious."

Lo'ak knows that you're probably being a little sarcastic and a little serious at the same time, but either way, it's not like Neteyam knows that. He's just beaming back at you with that same dopey look on his face as he basks in your amusement. 

"I will…?" comes Neteyam's response, almost as if it were a question or a statement requiring some kind of validation. Lo'ak watches as you extend an arm to playfully nudge the back of his brother's head. This time, Lo'ak does roll his eyes as the two of you fall into a cycle of tugging on each other's braids and tails like a pair of five-year-olds. 

And it's been like this more and more often lately: Neteyam showering you with attention, you grinning from ear to ear and laughing at every single word that leaves his lips. It's irritating. And it gets even worse.

You finally manage to sneak out of Neteyam's reach, refocusing your sight on the towering wall ahead. 

"I'll go first," you declare confidently, surveying the wall from top to bottom as you adjust the bow and arrows securely fastened to your back. You locate a small protrusion in the rock's rough surface and firmly position your foot into the crevice, your fingers searching for a higher ledge to grip. Finding one, you propel your entire body upwards with a determined leap.

Lo'ak, unable to suppress his competitive inner child, is soon hot on your heels. From the moment you both mastered your bow and arrow, taking down your prey with clean precision, to the day you tamed and forged a bond with each of your ikran, your combined spirit of friendly competition has fueled a relentless desire to outdo each other. 

And today is no different.

"Bro, wait up!" Lo'ak shouts, his voice cutting through the cool mountain air. "I thought you said we were racing!" He scrambles onto the wall beside you, his eyes locked on your every move. Your quick hands and feet expertly navigate the rough, uneven surface of the rock wall, leading the way up.

"We are," you retort, not even sparing a glance at him as you carefully calculate each handhold and foothold. You keep your focus on the task at hand, stretching your arm out to grab a rock to your far left. 

Lo'ak extends his arm to grip the same rock you just occupied. He's well aware and not at all ashamed of the fact that he's blatantly copying your every move now—anything to keep up with your quick pace. 

"Then why'd you start without us?" he manages to ask, a little bit out of breath.

"So you can watch and learn," you reply confidently, a smug smile playing at the corners of your lips. Your outstretched foot reaches over just enough to give Lo'ak's shoulder a teasing little nudge. 

"Txanfwìngtu," Lo'ak mutters under his breath, but clearly not quiet enough. The unmistakable sound of his brother's disapproving "Lo'ak" reverberates through the air behind him. You whip your head in Lo'ak's direction before half-heartedly hissing at him. Your attempt at intimidation quickly dissolves into barely-contained laughter as you revel in the look of pure irritation on Lo'ak's face. 

You're still laughing as you resume climbing, but as you take your next step, you miscalculate your foot's placement on the rugged surface and momentarily lose your balance, whispering a soft "shit." But before you even have a chance to panic, you quickly catch yourself and regain your footing like it's nothing. Because it isn't. 

But Neteyam, the picture-perfect angel that he is, doesn't hesitate to reach out and steady you from his spot standing right behind you, even though you're barely as high off the ground as Tuk's height and it's obvious you're not going to fall. 

Lo'ak’s brows furrow as he watches your entire body tense up the instant Neteyam's hands wrap around your waist.

Something ugly swirls in Lo'ak's stomach as he notices the way his brother's eyes are practically glued to your waist, his fingers lingering on you for a few beats too long for it to feel friendly anymore. It's not until you turn your head over your shoulder to meet Neteyam's gaze that he actually has the presence of mind to shift his eyes up toward yours and let go of your middle.

"Sorry," he mumbles, so quiet and timid that you'd think he was lying if he told you he was the future leader of the entire clan.

"No, no, it's okay. Thank you," you say with a smile, clearly trying to brush it off and diffuse any lingering awkwardness from the situation. You turn back around and resume your ascent like nothing, but it doesn't escape Lo'ak's notice that he can detect the distinct scent of your arousal in the air, as clear as day. 

It's a natural reaction, something Lo'ak has noticed before in various situations without any cause for concern. He'd usually just tease you about it, and that would be that. But today is different. Seeing his brother so close to you and knowing how easily those kinds of emotions can rise to the surface because of his presence makes something ugly swirl in Lo'ak's stomach. 

Lo'ak has become increasingly agitated by your budding friendship with his brother ever since that week-long hunting trip you shared with him. And now? Now he's just confused. Everything feels so different. He's almost positive that there's something more going on between you and Neteyam—something deeper than just a normal, platonic friendship. The nagging feeling inside him refuses to go away, and he can't understand why it hurts so much.

You and Lo'ak have always been best friends—nothing more and nothing less. He's watched you talk to other men in the clan. There were countless instances where guys would boldly make a pass at you, even with Lo'ak standing right there by your side. But he'd always just laugh it off or poke fun at you. Because deep down, he's confident none of them are truly worthy of you, and nothing serious will ever come out of those flirtations.

But things are different now. Along came Neteyam—the perfect little warrior son who defies each and every one of those odds. Lo'ak can't ignore the fact that his brother is more than good enough for you. In fact, Neteyam is probably one of the few clan members who could actually be considered suitable for someone like you. This harsh truth strikes Lo'ak like a massive weight dropping on his chest.

Because of this, it's increasingly difficult for Lo'ak to shake off the nagging suspicion that something must've happened between the two of you. His mind is practically racing as thoughts of what could have transpired between you and Neteyam play over and over again inside his head like a dissonant, never-ending loop. Because what the fuck was that back at the bottom of the waterfall? Even now, your scent lingers in the air like a constant reminder of how Neteyam put his hands on you, cruelly etched into Lo'ak's memory.

He tries to focus on anything else but that moment: the lush forest surrounding the waterfall, the light filtering through the rustling leaves above, a stingbat hanging from a tree branch. He even tries taking deep breaths to calm himself down, but nothing works. It's like the soundtrack of his thoughts can't be silenced. He's a swirling vortex of anger, confusion, and betrayal, demanding an outlet to release all the pent-up turmoil.

So as soon as the little waterfall outing is all said and done and you all return to Hometree, Lo'ak swiftly grabs Neteyam's arm, pulling him aside. A puzzled expression sweeps across Neteyam's features, which only fuels Lo'ak's rising frustration over the entire situation. But the tense silence hanging in the air is cut short by your concerned voice.

"Is everything okay?" You inquire, your wide eyes dancing back and forth between the two brothers, searching for some kind of explanation.

​​Lo'ak's eyes, previously burning with rage, soften as they shift from his brother to your worried face. You just have that effect on him. 

With a brief nod of his head and a forced grin, Lo'ak tries to casually address your concerns. "Yeah, don't worry about it. I just need to talk to Neteyam about something." Sensing the tension ebbing away, he loosens his previously iron grip on his brother's arm, finally allowing it to drop altogether. "We'll catch up with you later."

Lo'ak holds his breath as you narrow your eyes at him, your face a clear mask of suspicion given his not-at-all-reassuring response. Your eyes dart toward Neteyam, who only offers you a shrug and a half-hearted smile. But clearly, he doesn't fully understand what's happening either.

Lo'ak doesn't let out the breath he's holding until you give him a reluctant nod in agreement before walking away.

Lo'ak's eyes are glued to your retreating form as you walk away, pushing past a group of low-hanging vines and disappearing into the distance. He refuses to tear his gaze away until he feels confident that you're far enough from him and his brother. With his heart pounding in his chest, he turns to face Neteyam, his eyes filled with accusation.

Without bothering to offer any preamble or context, he bluntly demands to know: "Did you fuck her?" This question has consumed him for what feels like an eternity—days melting into weeks.

Neteyam just blinks at Lo'ak, caught off-guard by the explosive confrontation. His forehead wrinkles, and his eyes squint towards his younger brother, clearly puzzled by the unexpectedness of the question. As shock gives way to disbelief, all he can muster in response is an incredulous "Are you serious?"

Lo'ak shoots back with a sarcastic huff of laughter, but his expression is anything but amused. "Dead serious, bro," he confirms, punctuating the statement with a firm nod of his head.

Neteyam's hands reach up seemingly unconsciously as they rake through his braids in clear frustration before rubbing at the sides of his temples. His eyes squeeze shut as he takes a moment to process the incredulity of it all before shaking his head and sighing heavily in exasperation.

He finally opens his eyes again and answers with unwavering certainty. "No," he replies with conviction, locking eyes with his brother to drive home the sincerity of his words.

Although Lo'ak finally feels a hint of relief surge through him at Neteyam's denial, the rage he's been harboring toward the entire situation continues to seethe just beneath the surface.

"But you want to, right?" he questions, his voice laced with a touch of hysteria, his frustration boiling over. "You just can't help yourself from taking the one person in my life who actually cares about me? You're that fucking selfish?" Lo'ak's mind races as he rambles on, his heart pounding wildly in his chest. His fists clench tightly at his sides, just itching to find their way to his brother's face.

Neteyam seems genuinely taken aback by Lo'ak's sudden outburst. He actually has the nerve to look like he's in disbelief. "That's not fair, and you know it," Neteyam says, his voice carrying a hint of hurt.

Lo'ak scoffs at Neteyam's defense, shaking his head in frustration. "Not fair? You're so full of shit," Lo'ak fires back. Because Neteyam will never understand. His life is picture-perfect. He doesn't have to carry the burden of being the second-born son—always the second thought, always living in someone else's shadow. He'll never get it.

Neteyam tries to reason with Lo'ak, his voice calm and pleading as if he's carefully picking each word to tread lightly on volatile ground. "Look, Lo'ak," he begins, his words measured like he'd practiced them already. It wouldn't really shock Lo'ak if that was the case.

"Y/n and I appreciate each other's company, but it's never crossed the boundaries of friendship. Still, I don't see why that matters. You told me the two of you are just friends, right?"

Lo'ak's silence hangs heavy in the air, as if the weight of the truth is finally sinking in. Neteyam's words weren't untrue; Lo'ak can't deny them. There were rumors floating around about you and him supposedly courting each other, barely over a year ago. You and he just laughed about it before mutually shutting everything down because you weren't anything more than friends. Aren't anything more than friends. But now the memories of those rumored whispers haunt him, like they're laughing at how stupid and confused he is about everything concerning you all of a sudden.

Lo'ak hesitates for what seems like an eternity, drawing a knowing smile from Neteyam, who then places a firm hand on top of Lo'ak's head like he's a little kid. The gesture only serves to intensify the fire burning within Lo'ak. Neteyam doesn't know anything about his friendship with you. 

Frustration and anger bubble up within Lo'ak as he forcefully wrenches his brother's arm away from him. "Get your hands off me," he mumbles, taking several steps back to put some distance between them. "And keep your hands off y/n," he adds as an afterthought, his voice bitter with resentment.

The air between the two brothers is thick with tension and unresolved emotions. It's like a storm, just waiting to break loose. Their bond has always been iffy, but at this moment, it feels like it could be severed altogether by the thin thread barely keeping them connected. 

It's too much.

Without another word, Lo'ak turns and walks away, each of his footsteps heavy with the weight of his tormenting feelings.

A/N: This feels so dramatic?? Lmfao this is exactly why I don't write angst, but I do have a second part sitting in my drafts 😼

Next part here

[nauseaspecters]

i don't enjoy the fandom depiction of chuuya being the 'second choice' character trope all his life.

unedited rambling under the cut. i'll structure my text posts better when it's not 4am

he's experienced and underwent through a lot of situationd of abandonment and betrayal, with unreciprocated attachments, definitely.

for the sheep, although they were almost like his family, since they were all he knew for 8 years, they viewed him as a weapon and a tool. stormbringer elaborates and adds complexity to this later but as a basis, it was true that they viewed this young teenager (chuuya) as more of an indispensably strong weapon to protect their survival, yet dispensable as a human if chuuya were to 'fall' to the other side. so much so that they jump to the chance to stab him (literally.) it's true chuuya does experience varying levels of not feeling he is doing enough.

however, to dwindle his character trope down to being "the other woman" type trope or the "constant second choice" is a misunderstanding of not only his character, but the characters around him as well. i see this seen most with dazai, mori, kouyou and the sheep.

in the case regarding dazai: chuuya is often labelled as the second choice to oda, and sometimes people use it as a point to pity chuuya in. however, it should be considered that chuuya and oda, and what they meant to dazai, cannot be compared. their relationships and significance to dazai were not in the same realm, and to think of it as "dazai chose oda over chuuya" ignores all the other factors as to what their relationship is built on. also, dazai choosing to leave the pm is not choosing oda over chuuya, it's hardly even related to chuuya, and especially not some decisive battle. it was dazai who was impacted by his dying friend's wishes and words, and he left for many reasons. ugh i will speak forever so i'll make that a different post. TLDR: chuuya is not the second choice to 'oda'

in the case regarding kouyou: i don't see this as commonly and i'm honestly a sucker for chuuya angst, but i don't think it's also right to think of chuuya as a second choice to kyouka in terms of kouyou's affection/care. firstly, kyouka is a young girl, and kouyou identifies herself in kyouka, with a deeper attachment of obsessive protection and instillment of what kouyou experienced. since kouyou was hurt by trying to reach the 'light', and she sees that same self in kyouka, kouyou shields kyouka in an unhealthy manner and isolates her from what she think will ultimately fail her. chuuya is a boy and from what we know, kouyou most likely does not see chuuya in the same style of projection and reflection. she's set to mentor chuuya in a very professional PM standpoint, and most likely does not form that deeper neurotic attachment that she has to kyouka. yes, chuuya calls her ane-san, but that doesn't mean they're necessarily also the closest. so to say that chuuya is the second choice to kyouka is strange, as it's not even a choice. chuuya is not in the picture for the type of internal bond that kouyou feels towards kyouka.

some additional stuff bdcause im rambling:

there's some weird extreme perceptions of kouyou as either someone that doesn't care about chuuya and a very close older-sister like doting on chuuya (the latter being a popular interpretation). i think kouyou cares to some extent, yeah. i think a lot of the pm that interact more extensively cares about each other to some extent. however, we do need to remember this is in the context of the PM. it's an inherently toxic and unstable environment, rooted in , well, Crime and power dynamics. kouyou was probably not the perfect mentor to chuuya, and nor are they some close healthy protective sibling-type dynamic either. the PM is rooted in abuse and a dark environment, it's unrealistic to think that a relationship we barely see much of is sunshine and rainbows.

ps: also sometimes it's not the matter of being a second choice he is just not a choice. as sad as that may sound.

[gojoonsaturn]

pairing: Kento Nanami x fem reader

wc: 3504

a/n: part 4 to this work I want to make Gojo's sister in this story like a future "mother" to jjk students, so i'm starting do it right now in this chapter. And i need to deal with the relationship between Satoru and his sister. It's not yet the end, but they're trying. That's why Ken is just background in this part. Also i lied about not reading manga. I started reading it because i was bored)))))

warnings: sexism, slight swearing, Megumi and Tsumiki, Zen'in clan, little Maki and Mai, toxic Naoya, hurt/comfort, a bit of angst

2007.

After Suguru killed people in a village, and you refused to go with him, everything changed in Gojo’s siblings’ lives. Satoru managed that, and you… you hoped you would deal with it eventually. All your thoughts were about your future in the jujutsu world, but you constantly returned to the day of Haibara’s death, which caused you to shiver. Kento was always beside you, and you felt relieved to be with him. However, you and Satoru spent less time together, and that’s why you were surprised when he came to you with a request.

“You want what?” You sounded shocked but tried to remain calm.

“Don’t pretend you didn’t hear that.” Satoru rolled his eyes and clicked his tongue.

“Ugh, but that’s so… responsible. Are we responsible enough to take care of two children?”

“Together, we are. Besides, you and Kento must train to raise children, so…” You didn’t let him finish his sentence and punched him on the shoulder.

“But why? Is there no one else who could take care of them??”

“Just me. And I’m asking for your help.”

You sighed deeply and sat down in front of Satoru. His eyes were full of confidence, and you rarely saw him like that. Perhaps there was something behind this decision, but you were afraid to ask. Now he wanted you to accompany him to the Zen'in clan to talk to the head about Fushiguro's siblings.

“They hate us. If two Gojos show up at their doorstep, they probably won’t be happy about it.” You still tried to reason with your brother.

“Don’t care. These kids need me.”

“Are you sure about that?”

In the next day, you and he came to a school. You wrinkled your brow at your brother, but he didn't notice it. He bit his lower lip and stared at the exit from the building. When a black-haired boy with long spikes came out, Satoru waved at him. When the boy approached you, you felt a high level of cursed energy inside him. You exchanged glances with your brother and he nodded at you.

“You again.” The boy didn’t seem happy to see the two of you.

“Yep. And this is my sister.” Satoru introduced you to each other.

You softly shook Megumi’s hand and smiled at him. He didn’t look interested in you and your doubts about Satoru’s decision only increased, but Megumi’s cursed energy sparked your curiosity, so you continued to follow Satoru. While they were talking, a girl older than the boy approached and hugged Satoru’s waist. His glance softened instantly, surprising you. It was like your brother had become a different person beside them.

You guided the children home. It was an old building in one of the poorer quarters in Tokyo. An elderly lady met the Fushiguro family and waved to Satoru. He nodded at her and squatted in front of siblings.

“Tomorrow I’ll head to the Zen’in clan.” He said, shifting his look between them.

“So, does that mean, we’ll be living together soon?” Tsumiki asked with excitement.

“Uhm, I hope so too, Miki.” Satoru replied, ruffling her hair.

“Go home, Tsumiki. It’s late.” Megumi said, sounding a bit nervous.

The girl hugged Satoru and you, making you smile. You shook your head, trying not to succumb to the children's energy. As Tsumiki hid behind the door, Megumi asked you:

“Is there any chance that the Zen’in clan would refuse to give us?” This question made you silent.

“Listen, they are assho… Well, Satoru can be very persuasive.” Suddenly, you decided to support your brother.

Megumi looked at you with interest for the first time since you’ve met. You saw a thinking process on his face, and when it ended, he stared at you:

“Will you come with him too?”

“Uhm… If you want…”

“Yeah, please. I’m afraid he could spoil everything.” You giggled as you saw your brother pouted and placed his hand on his chest with an offensive glare.

“I’m here too!” Satoru commented.

You said goodbye to each other and headed to Tokyo Jujutsu High. Satoru and you kept silent the whole time. You thought about Fushiguro, still trying to understand your brother’s motivation. Megumi was talented, without a doubt. Did Satoru want him on his side in the future? If so, you questioned yourself why? He was the strongest and didn’t need anyone. You asked him multiple times to go on missions with him, but he didn’t let you. You blamed yourself for not asking directly, because something had stopped you.

At the Tech, you went to Kento’s room. Remembering that he had been assigned to a mission and probably hadn't returned from it, you entered the room and heard the sound of a shower. Your lips curled into a smile, and you lay down on the bed and stared at the ceiling thinking about Megumi and Tsumiki.

“Oh, Gosh, darling!” Nanami grabbed a towel around his waist, and you rolled your eyes at this gesture.

“It’s like I didn’t see anything there already!” He clicked his tongue and approached you, kissing your forehead.

“How was your day?” Kento placed next to you, his body still warm after the shower.

“Thought provocative.” Your boyfriend raised an eyebrow.

You told him about Satoru’s decision to take care of the Zen’in offspring. First, Nanami heard it, choked and looked at you in astonishment. You nodded at him and continued sharing your doubts.

“I don’t get his motivation.” You mumbled, still thinking.

“That’s Satoru. There is no logic in his actions.” Nanami said, getting your punch on the chest. “But I think, if he insists on your presence at the Zen’ins, you should go.”

“Wow. Unexpected.”

“He needs your support. That’s all.” Kento chuckled, embracing you closer.

In the next morning, you waited for Satoru outside Tech. The sun was hiding behind the clouds, and the air was so cold that you were freezing.

“You are late.” You shivered as your brother gave you his scarf. You smiled at him and got into the car.

As your car approached the Zen’in estate, guardsmen came to you.

“Stay here.”

Satoru said, getting out of the car and nodding to the men who seemed not happy to see you, as you told. A few moments later, he opened the door for you and let you out. The guards led you somewhere, and you hoped it wasn't to your death. You still remembered tales about the fight between your clans.

When you entered the room, there was nothing except an old man with stupidly-looking mustache. You tried to suppress your laughter, but Satoru had become serious.

“I won’t talk to the girl. Only you, Gojo.” He pointed his finger at you.

“She’s also Gojo.” Satoru insisted.

“Nah, she is a woman. Don’t want to deal with women.” The old man grinned at you.

“Ugh, that’s fine, Satoru. I can wait outside.” You nodded at him and saw concern in his eyes. He put on his glasses and let you away.

You didn’t want to waste your time, so you decided to look around the estate. Although the Gojo family had almost the same estate, you knew about each clan's tricks in their homes. You walked through the halls under the guard's gaze, feeling hunted. Behind a door, you heard girlish laughter and couldn't resist entering the room.

There sat two girls who looked alike and they were reading a book. They flipped through the pages and pointed at some pictures, laughing at themselves. Suddenly, one of the girls looked around and saw you. The other girl followed her and smiled at you.

“You are not Zen’in.” The first one said.

“I’m not. I’m Gojo.” You introduced yourself, trying not to scare them.

The girls began whispering and pointing at you. The second one wasn’t afraid, so she came up to you and took your hand. You sat down in front of them and looked at the girls carefully.

“I’m Maki. And this is Mai. We are twins.”

“Nice to meet you. What are you doing here all alone?” You said, still keeping your distance.

“We are not allowed on training, so…” Mai said offensively.

“Why not?”

“Because I can’t see curses, and Mai…” Maki seemed more friendly than her sister.

“I can see them!” Mai placed her little hands on her chest and turned away.

“Mai, don’t be rude. She’s nice.” Maki smiled at you, grabbing her sister by the elbow.

“It’s okay, girls.” Your lips curved into a soft smile.

“Tell us about your Cursed Technique!” Maki requested with interest in her eyes.

“Wow! You know, girls, you shouldn’t discuss your CT with strangers. Besides, I’m young and still learning at Jujutsu Tech, so…” You scratched your head. “But I can show you my halberd.”

“You have a halberd? Sooo cool!” Maki moved closer to you and stared at you with curiosity.

You waved your hand, and your halberd appeared from thin air and landed at your knees. Maki watched your cursed tool with eagerness, while Mai seemed not interested in you at all.

“I want a halberd too!” Maki exclaimed and clapped her hands, as you hid your weapon from them.

“Well, then, you can have one during your training at Jujutsu Techs. There are two in…”

“We won’t go to the Jujutsu Tech.” Mai interrupted you, rolling her amber eyes.

“Why do you think that?”

“Because they are women and have zero cursed energy.” You heard an insolent voice behind you and turned around.

You saw a tall guy with dyed blonde hair. His roots were dark grin like the girls’ hair, so you decided he was one of Zen’in too. He eyed you with a grin, but when you stood up, there was a disgusting desire in his eyes. The Zen’in girls tried to hide behind you, so you gently put your hands on their heads.

“You are Gojo’s sister, I guess. You look hotter than he does.” The guy smirked.

“I’m surprised you think my brother is hot.” Your confident answer made the girls giggle, but they were quiet when they saw his angry look.

“Do you think you’re so smart, yeah?”

“Well, I don’t complain.”

He stared at you, trying to win this unspoken battle between you. When he realized you wouldn’t give up, he snorted.

“I don’t like smart women. You are pretty, but you are Gojo…” He clicked his tongue at you.

“Wow, I bet you don’t like smart women because we are strong enough to take down your arrogance?” You chuckled at him, your back straight and your hands moved to the girls’ shoulders. They pressed closer to you. “No one smart woman would ever like you either, though. Right, girls?” You looked down at them and saw fear in their eyes.

“Go away, Naoya.” Maki suddenly said, looking up from your leg.

“Who talks, brat!” Naoya pulled his hand towards Maki, but you stopped him with your halberd, nearly cutting his hand off.

“Don’t touch her or I will cut your arm off.”

“Then your brother won’t get that Fushiguro brat.” You didn’t take your halberd away, but your heart was racing.

“Just go away, Naoya, and I’ll leave all your fingers.”

You stared at each other, and he stepped back from you. His face remained calm, but his jaw was clenched. You wanted to ignore the lust in his eyes, so you looked away from him

“See you later, Gojo.”

He left the room, leaving the three of you breathing deeply. You’ve heard enough about the Zen’in clan’s position on women, but didn’t think it was true. For half an hour, you were humiliated twice just for being a woman. You looked at the girls; they stared at you in consideration.

“Listen, girls. You are strong and brave. If you want to go to Jujutsu Tech, then you shouldn’t listen to anyone, especially that arroganct bas…” You didn’t finish the sentence, stopping yourself from cursing.

“Even if we can’t see them?” Maki asked, with hope in her eyes.

“That’s the problem, but I promise, I’ll help you.”

“They won’t let you.” Mai said upset.

“We’ll see.”

You embraced the girls and left the room. Something about them made you worried about jujutsu’s future. There weren’t many sorcerers left, and each person had a role in this big battle against curses.

2014.

You didn’t know how, but Satoru proved to be a perfect negotiator. You even joked that he should join you and travel around the world fighting curses. He managed to make a deal with the US government for five offices in the country. They were concerned about the situation in several states, so they gave you all their sorcerers - at least 70 people - who weren't so strong but had the level of skills required to fight curses.

Sometimes Nanami joined you on missions, but you wanted him to avoid overloading himself. So you decided to lead your team from Japan, despite Kento's insistence that you shouldn't settle in Japan for his sake.

“I’ve already lost too much time without you. Besides, I want my brother back. We have a lot to discuss.”

“When will he return from his mission?”

“The day after tomorrow.” Nanami noticed your trembling.

“I miss him so much.”

Since you two saw each other at the airport in Rome, you didn’t have a chance to talk about everything that happened in your lives during those years. You felt awful about the huge distance that had appeared between you. Neither of you wanted to deal with it and chose to ignore your feelings. Satoru was your brother and closest friend who shared all the events in your lives with you.

“But I have one important mission before Satoru comes back.”

You and Kento went to the Zen’in estate. It was like the day you first came here, and you smiled as you remembered Zen'in girls. You promised Maki you would solve her problem, and you did. In your hand, you held a small box containing glasses that helped to see curses. The Greek sorcerer had made them for Maki, and you wanted to finally give them to her.

You didn’t want to enter the estate, so you asked a guard to call Maki Zen’in. Nanami got out of the car and saw the dark-green haired girl hugging you. He smiled and felt his heart race faster in his chest.

“Wow, look how you’ve grown up!” You giggled, ruffling her hair.

“I didn’t think you’ll show up here again!” The girl was so excited to see you, and that warmed your heart.

“How could I? I promised you…” You took out a gift box and gave it to Maki.

She raised a brow and mistrustfully took it. When Zen’in opened it, she put on the glasses and looked around. At first, she didn’t understand the idea, but when she saw a curse next to you, she jumped and hugged you tightly.

“Thank you so much! They are… amazing!”

“Yeah, they will grow up with you, so try not to break them in fights.”

“Ha, you still think I’ll go to Tech. My family won’t allow it.”

“Screw them. You should follow your heart.” You pointed at her little chest and touched her nose.

“Is this your boyfriend?” Maki nodded at Kento.

“Yeah, he is. Want to meet him?” You waved at Nanami, and he approached you both.

“Hello to you, beautiful lady!” He squatted in front of her and smiled gently.

“Don’t get used such treatment.” All of you turned around and saw Naoya.

The guy had become taller and more arrogant. You felt proud of Maki, when she didn’t blink at the sight of her cousin and just clicked her tongue.

“I’ve heard about your super important mission around the world, Gojo. Would you take me with you? I could show you some places in Europe…”

“And I can show you my fist if you don’t shut up.” Maki and you turned your heads to Nanami, your eyes wide open.

“Such a hero!” Naoya lifted his arms protectively, but his gaze was confident.

“You better go or Naoya will say some more nonsense.” Maki said with regret. You saw so much in her eyes and barely held your tears. She put the glasses back into the box and carefully hid them from her cousin. “I hope we’ll see each other again.”

“Yeah, I do too. Maybe you’ll join my team. But first Jujutsu High. Satoru will train you properly.” You hugged her and whispered those words to her.

On your way home, you remained silent. How could such pretty girls like Maki and Mai be born in the clan of jerks? You held your breath as you thought about Mai. You hadn't even asked after her because of Naoya, but you hoped to see them at Jujutsu Tech in the future.

Two days after Satoru returned from his mission, you gave him time to shower and waited outside his door, struggling to knock on it. Suddenly, the door opened, and you met Satoru's blue eyes. You felt how much you had missed those eyes, since he had hidden them after Suguru's departure.

“How long will you be here? Come in.” He laughed at you and let you in.

His room was minimalistic, with just a bed, chair, closet, and table. You connected this with his constant absences. Maybe he didn't need so many pieces of furniture, which was sad. He picked up an iPad from the desk and started typing something, probably a mission report.

“How was your mission?” You asked carefully.

“As always.” He didn’t look at you.

“Uhm… If you are busy, I can come back later.” Your voice cracked, and Satoru noticed it. He put the iPad away and stared at you.

“Did you want something?”

“I did, actually.” You couldn’t feel brave enough to start this conversation. “How are you?”

Satoru sensed the true reason for your presence in his room that night. He was a bit confused by your question and remained silent for a while.

“Well, I’m fine.” He didn’t find a proper answer.

“Are you sure?” You raised your brow, your eyes full of distrust.

“I am.” He said with confidence on his face. “And you?”

“I’m not.”

Satoru exhaled and looked at you with concern. You moved closer to him, still hiding your eyes from him.

“I’m not fine because I feel like you’re lying to me about your emotional state. And don’t try to reassure me. I feel you.”

The silence fell between you, and neither of you wanted to break it.

“Stop lying to me, please. Remember we shared everything when we were kids? What happened to us?...”

“Ugh, sis… There is no right time…”

“When is the right time? I was absent for four years, you are on missions every time.”

“What do you want to hear? That since Suguru’s left, I don’t feel anything?” You held your breath at these words. “You won’t hear it, because I do feel everything. And it hurts. But I can handle it. Don’t worry.” He tried to sound happy.

“I understand that you don’t want to tell me anything, but I miss you. And I need you, because you've been through a lot in your life. I felt terrible for not having anyone to support me for so many years. Now I have Ken, who is great, but he's not enough. So, I want you by my side, with all your thoughts and worries, with all your feelings.”

“Wow.” Satoru was surprised by your honesty. “Look, I get it. But don’t worry about me. And if you want to talk, you can do it.” He hugged you and stroked your back, playing with your hair.

“No, I will worry about you even if you don’t let me. Because I love you more than anyone else in the world.”

“Heh, even more than Nanami?” He laughed at you.

“You are so stupid. This is another kind of love. You are part of me, you are my family, okay? If you need me…”

“Mhm, got it.” He moved away from you and smiled at you softly. “Wanna stay with me tonight?”

You’ve spoken for almost three hours. You told him about your trips and other sorcerers you worked with. Satoru listened carefully and felt warm just from your voice. Despite the distance, he also missed you. Suguru and you were the only people in his life he trusted. Maybe he was afraid of losing you too, so he didn’t want to let you get closer. That was stupid of him, but when he didn’t see resistance from you, he thought he was right. Instead of having a real conversation, you chose to just live your lives, when they were inseparable.

You felt a bit relieved about Satoru, but you weren’t content that your brother hadn’t opened up to you. However, you hoped he would eventually do so. He just needed some time.

[somereaderinblue]

Today is day 2 of Trigun Fanfiction Appreciation Week & with it, another rec list.

Gen AUs

Geranium Dreams by the_13th_battalion, rated T

Tangled AU where Vash is Rapunzel, WW is Flint & Conrad is Mother Gothel. Oh! And we can't forget the MVP: Kuroneko as Pascal!

promise of an ending by Altered_Karma, rated T

Although it does take elements from Tangled (re: locked in the tower!) it doesn't follow the movie's storyline. Instead, the author adds magical elements that don't involve long hair & another form of conflict. There's even fanart for this on twt.

Daylight (You Got Me Cursing The Daylight) by Sblurg, rated E

A Violet Evergarden AU we never asked for but absolutely needed. Full of angst & hurt/comfort that gives its inspo a run for its money.

Otherworldly by WarriorNun, rated M

Pacific Rim AU with its own dashes of worldbuilding & despite the apocalyptic setting it implies, has its share of comedic & slice-of-life moments.

The Courtship of Nicholas D Wolfwood by @screamingshark, rated M

Another fic I want to absolutely devour. A Modern AU where Plants are Mers. The author does a wonderful job of writing their courting rituals & culture in gen as well as plot twists & cliffhangers that drive you nuts. You can find fanart for it on their acc & some @poibeansart.

And Still Have Wings (with which to fly) by @alpha-hydra, rated E

Shape of Water AU where WW goes from fugitive/con-artist/former assassin to janitor & upon meeting Vash, is willing to go back to being a fugitive again if it means freedom. There's also fanart.

Show the symbol on your chest by @somereaderinblue, rated G

For a tiny bit of self-promotion a Superhero AU, more specifically a Teen Titans AU where Meryl is Robin, Milly is Starfire, WW is Beast Boy, Livio/Razlo is Cyborg & Vash is Raven. No knowledge of TT is necessary.

Tesla fics

cross my heart and hope to die by beelzebby666 & Lightning Rod by @needle-noggins, rated M

Both these fics explore the fact that Tristamp Elendira has Tesla's eye. They were done during Trigun Body Horror Week so heed the tags.

Happy by Plumerias_of_BlueMaroon, rated M

A heartbreaking Tesla POV. We know how this story goes, we know how it ends. We're simply seeing this story through her eyes & it's no less tragic. As someone who's studied child development, having to read this child look at how so many treat her & wonder 'What did I do wrong?' brings another level of hurt.

There Are Differences Between Our Hearts by Marley_Millions, rated T

Another Tesla POV fic where she expresses her frustrations to her sisters, the only ones who always listen to her through it all.

Run Red River (Run Home and Back Again) by PSIDontKnow, rated T

Tesla tears reality asunder for one simple reason: to find a universe where she is loved instead of martyred.

chrysanthemum by schrodingers__cat, rated T

The humans took many things from Tesla. Her autonomy, her body, her freedom, the concept of love, happiness & acceptance that didn't come with hurting. The only thing she wants back is her chance to be an older sister.

the half-extinguished light by reclamation, rated T

I accidentally discovered this fic while checking out their pfp & became intrigued by the Frankenstein concept. After reading it, I can't help but wonder who the true monster is. Is it Tesla/Vash? Is it Nai, who will soon become Millions Knives? Or maybe even Rem & Conrad, who were accomplices.

trouble comes in threes by @corgiss, rated T

TIME FOR SOME TESLA LIVES AUS! Here, we have them being NML's weird desert cryptids disaster siblings. There's also this fanart.

Sun, Moon, and Stars by @wendywhite13, rated T

Another Tesla Lives AU where Rem puts her foot down on day 1, causing a domino effect. This world is kinder, but it's still full of social & political challenges the family has to navigate through together.

Purple Hyacinth AU by @somereaderinblue, rated T & G

My own Age-Reversal + Role Swap AU where Tesla lives because in this world, she was born last while Vash was born first.

VW fics

sex shop/mortician by @sascake, rated E & M

As the title implies, Vash owns a sex shop, WW is a mortician & they have kids. It's always interesting to see Vash with jobs other than a baker or florist in a modern AU.

Eye to Eye by severalspoons, rated T

Reminder that for all his goofiness, Vash is the most perceptive character in-universe. Despite this, he chooses to love someone with a mask just as ironclad as his own.

Tomas Fried Rice by InkedEntropy, rated G

VW cook fried rice together, and then Vash cooks it alone.

My Body's Moving Into Retrograde by Sacramental_Wine, rated E.

Vash never hesitates to give his love & body, WW makes him receive it for once.

The Wall by Dezace, rated T

Canon-divergence wherein Knives captures Vash the Stampede decades before canon, allowing him to meet WW before he became the Punisher.

upon broken wings by maxxstrom, rated E

If I had a nickel for everytime I found a VW fic where they met as EoM captives, I'd have two nickels. Not a lot, but it's happened twice. Unlike the prev fic, this is a world where Vash stayed with Knives, never becoming the Stampede. However, this means he meets a WW who's yet to hit cynicism rock-bottom. Vash becomes WW's saint & he in turn becomes Vash's salvation.

And that's all I have for day 2. Hope you enjoy the fics & leave a kudo/comment for the respective author, have it be on AO3 or Tumblr. I wish all my fellow Trigun fans/artists/writers a good time!

[yeetmeoutthewindowdaddy]

Love is an open wound

Zevlor x Rolan, past Zevlor x Kanon.

Inspired by this post, which I misread. 🤦‍♀️

Warnings: Angst, hurt/comfort, spoilers, mild canon divergence for Act 1, panic attack, nightmares, horror, body horror, semi-graphic depictions of violence, PTSD symptoms, nonconsensual enthrallment, nonconsensual use of the Calm Emotions spell (consent is given after), survivors guilt, (minor) character deaths, canon character deaths (more like Kanon character death).

______________________________________________________________

The Absolute had been defeated and peace, or as much peace that a city such as Baldur's Gate could hope to have, had been restored. Ravenguard had managed to purge the worst of the corruption which had infested the highest reaches of government, and the city had been rebuilt.

The tiefling refugees were thriving in the port-city. Alfira had almost a dozen music students. Dammon's forge had months worth of commissions lined up, with more coming in everyday. Rolan had become the Master of Ramazith's Tower and business was booming at Sorcerers Sundries. He had also recently opened a free public library that anyone was welcome to use— so long as they treated the books and scrolls with due care. Bex and Danis had recently adopted a cat. Zevlor had refound his faith and was a paladin once more.

Zevlor was also in a committed relationship with Rolan. To say he was shocked when the mage had approached him after the elder brain had been defeated and asked him on a date would be an understatement. Zevlor was dubious anent the younger man's desires; why would a powerful, young, handsome man like Rolan want an old, washed up, soldier such as him? But Rolan was nothing if not determined, and after much reassurance Zevlor allowed himself to give into his "selfish" desires, and now (just over a year and a half later) they were living together in Ramazith's Tower.

Zevlor had fretted about how Rolan's protective siblings would react to their brother dating an older man, but Cal and Lia welcomed him with open arms (after giving him a shovel talk). "He's had a crush on you since he hit puberty." Lia had told the old Hellrider, much to Rolan's chagrin.

Zevlor was elated to find that he got on well with the mage's siblings. Cal was delighted to have another level-headed person to diffuse Lia and Rolan's constant bickering. While Lia was eager to train with the old Hellrider. She had even privately thanked Zevlor for being a calming influence on her bristly brother.

"Rolan isn't as pissy now that the stick that was shoved up his ass has been replaced with your great sword."

(Zevlor couldn't look her in the eyes for 2 tendays.)

The commander had also befriended the local population of stray cats. Zevlor was fairly certain that most of them only saw him as a meal ticket, but there were a few who seemed to genuinely enjoy his company.

Life was good and Zevlor was content, most of the time. But sometimes he'd catch a glimpse of Rolan out of the corner of his eye, or he'd see the younger tiefling approaching with the evening sun brightly blazing behind him, and for a split second he'd swear that he'd seen Kanon.

The two young men were very different people, in both their looks and their personalities— but both of them sported shoulder length hair, and their horn structures were almost identical; making them look just similar enough that, in the right light, Zevlor would see brief glimpses of Kanon when he looked at Rolan.

These bittersweet moments made Zevlor's heart ache. Guilt and anxiety made his stomach churn. Zevlor was worried that he was somehow cheating on Rolan in his wistful reminiscing on his prior swain. He worried that he was trying to replace Kanon with Rolan. He worried that his previous feelings for Kanon were preventing him from fully loving Rolan in the way that the man deserved to be loved— wholly and without question.

Compounding his guilt, Zevlor hadn't told Rolan about Kanon— but there wasn't really anything to tell. He hadn't been in a romantic relationship Kanon. In truth they were nothing more than friendly acquaintances... But there was an undeniable mutual attraction between them, and they'd been getting closer. Their relationship had just begun to blossom into something more when Kanon was killed.

Unfathomable remorse filled the old Hellrider. Kanon should have never been on the ramparts with him, but he was because he and Zevlor were flirting. Gods damn it, the man didn't even have any armor on! How could Zevlor have allowed himself to be so negligent in his duties!? If Zevlor was even half the paladin that he thought he was in Elturel, then Kanon wouldn't have died on that wall.

Despite his best efforts, Zevlor often found himself ruminating over his actions on that fateful day.

As soon as Zevlor had spotted the goblins nearing the Grove he yelled out an order to open the gate— he had directed the order to Akra, who had armor on, but Kanon was closer to the windlass— and so he took it upon himself to try to save Aradin's sorry backside from certain demise.

Zevlor saw the goblins nocking their arrows, he should've realized that a man who was a tailor by trade wouldn't have the reaction time of a trained soldier. But instead of diving on top of Kanon to shield him from the incoming volley of arrows, Zevlor had crouched down and covered his own hide because he (incorrectly) assumed that Kanon would also duck for cover.

Helm's unsleeping eyes, he remembered Kanon's death in perfect, agonizing, detail. The horrid sound the young man had made when the first arrow struck him. The sickening squelch as it effortlessly pierced his unarmored flesh.

Kanon may have been able to survive the initial arrow, had the second arrow not struck true by slotting between his ribs and piercing his heart.

The anguished wail that Kanon's sister, Akra, emitted upon seeing her brother's demise haunted Zevlor in his dreams.

Zevlor's night terrors had been intensifying as of late. His nightmares had started to combine the horrors he experienced in Avernus with how he had failed his kinsfolk in the Shadowlands.

In his dreams the refugee tieflings were being slaughtered by demons while he dispassionately stood by, watching as their souls were dammed to perdition in the hells.

The felled tieflings surrounded him, and the only thing louder than their wails of pain and terror were their loathsome screeches of blame and anger. They demanded to know why he had let them die when he had promised to protect them. They castigated him for his cowardice. They lambasted him for his audacity in thinking that he deserved happiness. He didn't.

Other nightmares solely featured Kanon. His bloated and decaying corpse loomed over Zevlor as blood poured from his mouth while he stared accusingly at him with his dead, hate filled eyes. Kanon didn't need to say anything for Zevlor to know that he was angry with him for idlily standing by as his sister was murdered, to know that the young man (correctly) blamed him for their deaths.

And then a familiar sneer would twist Kanon's reddening face until it morphed into Rolan's unmarred visage.

"How long until you cause my death?" Rolan pointedly asked Zevlor as his face began to decay, sloughing off in grotesque chunks as 10,000 tormented voices emanated all at once from Rolan's rotting mouth when he accusingly screamed at Zevlor. "ł'₥ ₲Øł₦₲ ₮Ø ĐłɆ ฿Ɇ₵₳Ʉ₴Ɇ Ø₣ ɎØɄ!"

"NO!" Zevlor yelled as he shot up from bed. He couldn't breath, he couldn't seen anything other than the static that filled his vision. His ears were ringing so loudly that he couldn't hear anything else.

He was dead. He was dead and he was dammed to relive his failures over and over again for the rest of eternity. He had never actually escaped the hells. Tav hadn't rescued him from the mind flayer pod at Moonrise Towers. He was dead. He was-

A gentle wave of calm washed over the old Hellrider. He could suddenly breath again as the ringing in his ears quieted and the world around him came into focus. Rolan was in front of him, saying soothing words to him.

"He looks worried." Zevlor distantly thought.

"Just focus on my voice Zevlor. Good. We're going to breath together now, follow my lead." Rolan instructed him.

"Breath in." Rolan inhaled as Zevlor copied him. "And breath out."

They repeated the breathing exercise several times until Zevlor had fully returned to his body.

The former commander was drenched in sweat, his skin was clammy and cold. Zevlor's whole body was shaking from the aftershocks of his night terror.

It wasn't until Rolan carefully wiped the tears from his face that Zevlor realized he was silently crying.

A sudden, wretched sob erupted from the very depths of Zevlor's soul. Years of repressed emotions spilled forth from, unfettered by shame or pride.

Rolan held him tight. It felt as though his love was the only thing holding Zevlor together as he was soothingly rocked in the mages arms.

Zevlor must have fallen asleep— as an indeterminate amount of time later he was gently roused from his slumber by Rolan, who handed him some water and softly ordered the old soldier "Drink."

Zevlor nodded in both acquiescence and a gesture of gratitude as he silently accepted the cool glass of water from the other man. He hadn't realized how parched he was until he started drinking. It took more restraint than he'd like to admit to swallow the refreshing liquid at a moderate pace instead of desperately chugging it.

When Zevlor was done drinking he handed the glass back to Rolan, who put it on the nightstand.

"You didn't put a coaster under it." He told Rolan.

"What?" Rolan asked.

"The glass," Zevlor said as he pointed to the offending object "you didn't put it on a coaster, it'll leave a mark if you leave it like that."

Rolan's face skewed in... confusion? Incredulity? Bewilderment?

"I know that you don't like water rings on the furniture, that's why I pointed it out." Zevlor lamely added, fearing he had offended his romantic partner.

"Zevlor, dear," Rolan said slowly, as though he was speaking to Minsc someone whose mental faculties were chronically understaffed. "I don't give a cranium rat's ass about potential condensation rings right now, I am worried about you." Rolan replied in baffled, albeit fond, exasperation.

"You are?" Zevlor asked.

"Yes." Rolan answered while looking at Zevlor as though he'd grown another horn. "I woke to you thrashing around in your sleep from terrible night terrors, I tried to wake you but I was unable rouse you. Then you suddenly bolted upright while screaming in a terror-stricken, anguished voice."

Rolan took a deep, steadying breath before he continued.

"You were nonsensical, saying that you were dead and being tormented in the hells or that you were still trapped in a mind flayer pod. Your eyes were open but they weren't seeing." Rolan shakily told him.

"Oh." Was all Zevlor could think to respond.

"I couldn't get though to you, so I used Calm Emotions on you in the hopes that it would free you from wherever your mind had you trapped. I'm sorry I used my magic to to control your emotions, but I didn't know how else to help you." Rolan said.

It was Zevlor's turn to look at Rolan as though he had grown another horn.

"Why are you apologizing?" Zevlor asked, but continued to talk before Rolan could reply.

"You pulled me out of a very unpleasant place. You shouldn't be apologizing, I should be thanking you." He said as he gently thumbed Rolan's bottom lip, stopping him from worrying it between his teeth.

"I..." Rolan started, uncharacteristically hesitant. "I used a spell to control you, to control your emotions, without your consent." He said.

"I was hardly in a place where I could consent Rolan." Zevlor dismissively replied, then, upon seeing guilt fill Rolan's eyes, quickly added "But I am glad that you did! Your spell helped me immensely!"

When Rolan responded it was with carefully chosen words, though whether they were purely for Zevlor's benefit, or if they were a byproduct of Rolan working though his own emotions, was hard to say.

"You've told me some of what happened in the Shadowlands. I was... concerned that my actions may have been similar to, or reminded you of... the time when you were nonconsensually controlled by the elder brain."

Zevlor blinked in surprise, and even as the familiar feelings of guilt and remorse bubbled up from the pit of his stomach, the warmth that filled him from the younger man's tender concern caused Zevlor to softly smile.

"I promise you, the circumstances here are very different from... that instance." Zevlor said, causing a small grimace to flash across both of their faces.

"I don't feel as though you violated my autonomy." Zevlor resolutely told Rolan, as he leaned forward and placed a tender kiss between his pinched brows.

Rolan sighed with palpable relief, his face smoothing.

"Do you want to talk about your night terrors?" Rolan asked.

Zevlor sighed as he responded, "Not particularly, but I probably should."

Rolan kissed the old Hellrider's forehead and then told him "Take all the time you need love." as he intertwined his and Zevlor's tails together.

After a few minutes of gathering his thoughts, and his courage, Zevlor began to tell Rolan about his nightmares. The younger man listened attentively, holding Zevlor's hand all the while.

"Before I continue relaying the contents of my nightmare, there is something you should know. Someone that I haven't told you about yet." Zevlor cautiously said.

After Rolan nodded in acknowledgment, Zevlor began to tell him of his and Kanon's not-quite-relationship.

"You remember Kanon, yes?" Zevlor asked, continuing after Rolan nodded, "Well he and I... We... We weren't together, but..."

Zevlor trailed off, his courage leaving him as his self doubt began to overwhelm him.

"Zevlor, are you trying to tell me about how you and Kanon danced around each other as you both obliviously, and obviously, pined for one another?" Rolan asked with a bit of amusement slipping into his voice despite his efforts to rein it in.

Zevlor's eyes were as wide saucers when he asked "You already knew!?"

Rolan let his smile slip as he answered "Zevlor, everyone knew. It was painfully obvious that you two had alchemy with each other. I'm fairly certain that Mol's gang were running a betting ring on when you two would finally start dating."

Embarrassed, Zevlor indignantly asked "And no one said anything!?"

"No." Rolan shrugged. "There wasn't much entertainment to be had on the road. Of course I didn't partake in such jejune activities. But I knew of your feelings for him, and his for you. I think everyone except you two knew."

Zevlor stared at Rolan as though he had just told him that the sky was lime green.

"You knew that I had romantic feelings for Kanon?" He asked, needing to clarify what he had just heard.

Rolan looked at Zevlor with a mixture of sympathy and tenderness. "Yes Zevlor, I knew."

"It... it doesn't bother you?" Zevlor hesitantly asked.

"No, Zevlor. It doesn't bother me." Rolan reassured him.

The floodgates opened once more as Zevlor began sobbing.

He told Rolan of what had happened that day. How he blamed himself for Kanon's death. How he was worried that he was using Rolan as a replacement. How he sometimes saw Kanon when he looked at Rolan.

Zevlor came clean about everything. His fears, his doubts, his regrets. How he didn't think he deserved to be happy when he was the reason so many had died.

And Rolan listened without judgement. At times he looked shocked, or angry at the circumstances life had put Zevlor in, or sadness for what he had lost— but he was never resentful.

Eventually Zevlor had confessed everything he'd been hiding from Rolan to him. Despite feeling exhausted Zevlor felt lighter than he had in a very long time.

But of course the reprieve from his self-flagellation only lasted for a few moments.

As Zevlor's senses returned to him so too did his shame. He was a commander of the Hellriders, damnit. How could he be so weak?

HIs self-loathing was unceremoniously interrupted when Rolan none-too-gently flicked his forehead.

"Stop that." Rolan firmly told him.

Zevlor did not pout as he snuggled closer, embarrassed at having been called out for his self-denigration— causing the mage to quietly chuckle and kiss Zevlor's forehead in apology.

"I've covered you with my snot and tears." Zevlor pointed out.

Rolan's voice betrayed his disgust, "I am aware."

Zevlor snickered at Rolan's disgruntled tone.

And by the next morning all traces of Zevlor's bodily secretions had been magicked away.

Zevlor woke to the smell of freshly brewed coffee.

"About time you've woken up, you slugabed." Rolan lovingly teased.

Zevlor hid his smile underneath the blanket as he replied "You young people these days, so disrespectful to your elders."

Rolan made a noncommittal noise as he drank his coffee.

"Mmm, I am very disrespectful— so disrespectful that I graciously brought you a fresh cup of coffee to lazily enjoy in bed." he said good naturedly.

The promise of caffeine inspired Zevlor to fully wake up.

Rolan tittered as he handed the now awake Hellrider his coffee.

Their eyes locked as Zevlor accepted the warm cup from him. The adoring look Rolan gave him soothed his soul in a way that words could not.

He knew that they were okay. They'd probably discuss what he'd revealed the night before, but they would be okay.

They were more than okay. They were good.

Life was good, and it was going to get even better.

[kazimakuwabara]

Meet My Dad

Summary: Kuwabara's friends meet his father. His friends are amazing. (angst, shitty!dad, friendship) ((i might turn this into a long fic, or do another series of drabbles. I am thinking about it)

***

It's a lazy sort of day.

It's hot outside, there's no work, no school, no worries. It's the perfect kind of day for Kuwabara and Yusuke to lounge around Kuwabara's living room and play some video games. Kurama reads a book in the chair, idly commenting every so often when Yusuke and Kuwabara get stuck on a level. Hiei is sprawled on the couch forcing Yusuke and Kuwabara to play on the floor. Hiei watches their struggle with their game with one eye open, pretending he's not interested.

It's a damn good day.

The doorbell goes off, and Kuwabara opens his mouth to plead with Shizuru to get it.

"Don't you dare shout!" Shizuru warns as she glides past the living room, "I've a terrible hangover. I've got the door. Don't you fucking breathe a word or make a sound!"

Kuwabara snaps his mouth shut, and Yusuke giggles and elbows Kuwabara. Kurama and Hiei are also making soft snickering sounds, charmed as ever by Shizuru's display of sibling affection.

A few seconds pass, and then they hear a door bang against the wall, and Shizuru's shout of, "Get the hell out of my house!"

Kuwabara freezes as he recognizes that voice, his head snapping to the hallway. Kurama and Hiei are already getting up, Hiei already zipping towards the hall, a hand on his sword. Hiei is brushed past when a thick hand presses itself to Hiei's chest, and shoves him back. Not rough, nor threatening, but strong enough to push an S-class demon aside. Hiei's expression is surprised, but it's not at the touch. It's at the face of the one who moved him aside.

Kuwabara gets on his feet, dread curling in his belly.

He and his dad look so alike, his father may as well be his older self. His dad is aged so well, that they could be siblings. Twins even.

Kahoe Kuwabara pushes his sunglasses up on his head, and snaps at Kuwabara, "Kazuma. Let's go. You've been summoned."

Shizuru slides down the hall, her nostril's flaring and jaw set. She puts a hand on Hiei's shoulder, who now recovered from this older man's appearance, looks like he had been about to draw his sword. Kuwabara wishes Shizuru would let him.

"You're not welcome to come and go as you please-" Shizuru hisses.

"Shizuru, not now," Kahoe says, his eyes on his son, "You've been summoned to the mountain. Let's go."

"He's not going anywhere you fucking asshole!" Shizuru shouts, her low voice pitched high with her anger.

Kuwabara's neck and ears are blazing hot. He's embarrassed for reasons he doesn't even fully register, but he feels Kurama anxiously looking at him, and it's a slap of cold reality. His friends are meeting his father. They are going to know.

"Pops, get outta here. I ain't gonna do anything with you, Granddad, the shrine, or that fucking cursed mountain."

Kahoe slaps him with the back of his hand, and Kuwabara closes his eyes and inhales. It barely hurts. His father's hits stopped hurting when he was eleven; he had outgrown his father's strength then. But Kuwbaara aches with a different kind of hurt, a shame that his sister is always telling him he doesn't need to feel. But he's more than embarrassed, and he's ashamed even if he knows this isn't his fault.

Of course, his friends had to be here to see this.

He opens his eyes, and the ugly feeling that had been curling around the back of his neck fades at the sight.

Hiei has Kahoe Kuwabara backed up against the wall, a blade pressed to his throat. Hiei is not holding back, nor is his threat empty. A line of blood is trailing slowly down his sword, as he keeps his hand steady. Yusuke is up in front of Kahoe, his chest puffed, and his yoki ominously pressing the man back. Kurama has a hand on Yusuke's shoulder, clearly restraining Yusuke, but also himself as he levels Kuwabara's father with the coldest of glares.

Shizuru reaches Kuwabara's side, and curls her arm around her brother's foream, before turning her glare to their father.

"I told you after last time, not to presume you could walk around here and bother us," Shizuru spits acidly. "You can't speak to us, or our friends as if you're just... just part of our lives. You're not."

Kuwabara takes his own steadying breath, "Real charming dad. Great first impression with my friends."

"You're acting childish! You've been summoned. A man does his duty," Kahoe says, his Reiki, an impressive staggering amount, spilling into the room.

It only sets Kuwabara's friends more ill at ease.

Kuwabara's chin trembles, and he feels a thousand different things swirling inside him that he could hurl at his father. But there's so much to say, Kuwabara can't find the words.

"Only a man should lecture Kazuma Kuwabara," Hiei says slowly, "I see you don't fit that description."

"So watch your fucking mouth!" Yusuke hisses.

Kahoe tries to ignore Kuwabara's impressive friends, as he always ignores everyone until he needs them. He stares at Kuwabara, the two at last the same height. Kuwabara doesn't find the man so imposing now that he doesn't have to look up at him.

"You've been summoned. You're strong enough to take care of the mountain. The shrine needs your strength," Kahoe says, voice plain.

"I'm not going. The shrine, the monks, Granddad, and you can all rot in hell. Go catch fire on the mountain. Go die trying to save it," Kuwabara spits.

Shizuru slides her hand into her brothers, and she can feel her pride.

"You're not my family, and neither are they. Get out of here," Kuwabara orders again.

Kahoe levels his son with a stare and he knows his dad is going to attack his conscience.

"And if innocent people die, it's on your head because of your refusal, Kazuma. They'll have all died because of your petty discontent towards your father."

Yusuke palms Kahoe's face and he slams the back of his head into the wall. It is with a real effort he doesn't put the man's head through it. He overpowers Kahoe's Reiki with his own Yoki, a staggering force to be reckoned with. For good measure, he puts his reiki on top of his Yoki so Kahoe can feel just how mighty he is.

"Alright asshole, you're done," Yusuke snaps.

"I-" Kuwabara's father tries, but Yusuke squeezes the man's skull like he could pop his brains out through the top of his head.

"You're not wanted here. And whatever you want Kuwabara to fucking do, he ain't gotta do shit for you if he doesn't want. In fact, I'll be damned if I even let him feel tempted to help you. You're not his family. We're his family, and I don't recognize you!"

"I'll get the door," Kurama says smoothly, breezing down the hallway.

Yusuke drags Kahoe out.

Hiei wipes his sword before he sheathes it, and looks at Kuwabara. He doesn't say anything, he doesn't even have a question in those eyes. Kuwabara shrinks away anyway, sits back on the floor, and picks up the remote control.

"He's gone," Kurama announces when he returns.

Kuwabara can hear his friends gather around him. He holds up Yusuke's controller, "You want to play another round or what?"

When no one responds, Kuwabara resumes the game, "Fine, I'm just gonna kill your guy then."

Kuwabara's vision goes blurry as his character wins on screen. Yusuke drops next to him, his arms slung over Kuwabara's shoulder, and his hand buried in Kuwabara's hair, ruining his pompadour. Kuwabara feels shame when his breath catches, and Yusuke pulls him into a crushing hug.

Yusuke and Kuwabara hug in silence, while Kuwabara's eyes squeeze shut as he fights off a wave of disgust, repulsion, and guilt all aimed at himself. When Kuwabara opens his eyes, Yusuke is still hugging him, Hiei and Kurama are sitting on the coffee table watching them both closely. Shizuru has her arms crossed, and her eyes shine as she looks at the group.

Kuwabara shudders, "So... that was my dad."

"I'm surprised. There is hardly any resemblance," Kurama says, and his words sound so honest Kuwabara laughs, and he has to bat away some more tears.

"Well... there's some resemblance," Kuwabara admits, knowing full well he and his old man look pretty damn similar.

"Not anything where it matters it would seem," Hiei drawls. "Are you attached? I could kill him."

Kuwabara doesn't answer, and Shizuru mutters, "I might take you up on that if he shows back up."

"Kuwabara?" Yusuke says, hand on the back of his best friend's head, "You don't gotta tell us what all that shit was about, but if he tries to bring any sort of trouble, you know you an rely on us, right?"

Kuwabara shudders, and he laughs bitterly. There's a lot about his family he hasn't told his friends, but then again he stopped considering his Dad and those linked to him, his family a long time ago. It was him and Shizuru, just those two against the world. Had been for a while.

Had been sine he was born.

"I know I can rely on you guys... I... I just never wanted you to meet him," Kuwabara's words crack, and he closes his eyes.

The group hug he feels curl around him, breaks him, and he chokes on a sob, as he keeps fighting to keep it all in. He never wanted them to know, and he still doesn't think he can tell them everything.

But God, Kuwabara's friends are great.

[tessa-liam]

Marabelle

Marabelle

🔻 Prologue: 

The Royal Romance, an AU series 

Series premise: An American teenager from New York city is introduced to the world of a small European country and its society of royalty, nobles, and commoners. How will her life story be transformed? Will this new adventure bring her happiness...or regret? 

Main Pairing: Liam Rys x F!OC (Sophia) 

Other Pairing: Maxwell Beaumont x M!OC (Daniel)  

All characters belong to Pixelberry, except Sophia Taylor and Bethany Beaumont. 

Rating: M *Warnings: this series will have NSFW material, crude language. Please excuse all errors.

Category: Alternate Universe/on-going series/angst/fluff 

Words: 874, Read: 4 minutes 

Music Inspiration: Everybody Hurts by Tina Arena 

A/N: My submission for @choicesflashfics Week #17, Prompt # 2 “Does it ever stop hurting?” - “No, you just make room for it.” @choicesficwriterscreations 

A/N2: Bethany Beaumont, Maxwell’s mother, is originally from the US; is Barthelemy Beaumont’s 2nd wife. Annabelle Beaumont (deceased) was Bertrand’s mother. 

A/N3: My submission for Maxwell Beaumont Appreciation Week @maxwell-beaumont-appreciation 

Marabelle 

Prologue: 

Sophie Taylor was excited but also nervous about this new adventure. Stepping out of the airport terminal, she breathed in the warm, fragrant air of her new home. 

She never imagined that she would ever be living in a different country, across the Atlantic Ocean; let alone starting her first year of studies at the University of Cordonia in the Fall. 

Graduating from high school two weeks ago, she was leaving behind everything she ever knew about life.  

But ever since her mother was diagnosed with cancer last Christmas, Sophie knew that her mother would start planning for her to live with her aunt in Cordonia when she passes. It was just a matter of time. 

Her father had died tragically, four years before, while on the job as a firefighter. Having no siblings, or other relatives living in the U.S., she would be all alone if she stayed in her home. 

Interrupting her thoughts, she heard her name being called. Sophie turned to see a familiar face in the crowd gathering at the luggage carousel, waving at her frantically. 

“Sophie!” Maxwell cried out as he ran up to her. 

“Max, it is so good to see you!” She dropped her luggage and allowed her cousin to fiercely hug her as she hugged him back in return. 

Like Sophie, Max would be attending U of C, in the Fall. Even though he was in his fourth year master's program, Sophie welcomed the fact that she would know at least one other person on campus. 

Her cousin Bertrand stepped up next to greet Sophie. Always the nobleman, he lifted her hand to place a kiss. 

“It’s so good to see you. I hope your flight was comfortable.” 

“It’s great to see you again, Bertrand.” 

Her older cousin was the Duke of Ramsford, who in effect had assumed the responsibilities of his father as the patriarch of Duchy Ramsford. Her Uncle Barthelemy was currently in a coma with his health in decline. His doctor forbade his current wife, and his sons, from visiting him at the personal care home in Vallenheim, claiming that it was a directive given to him by Barthelemy himself. 

Inside the town car, travelling through the Cordonian countryside to the Beaumont estate, Sophie and Max were deep in discussion getting re-acquainted after not seeing each other for a couple of years in person. 

“Are you excited about starting classes in the Fall? I know you will love it there...I have so many things to show you!” 

Starting her MBA at the University of Stormholt in the Fall, 17-year-old Sophie was anxious about having to adjust to not only losing her mom, but also navigating a new school environment. 

“I am so grateful that you will be there. I feel like a ‘fish out of water’ in so many ways.” Sophie’s lip quivered and her hands started to tremble. 

“Gosh Soph, I am so, so sorry for rambling on. I cannot even imagine the level of stress you are under.” 

Maxwell wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her in for a hug. 

“What about you, Max? 

Uncle Barthelemy won’t let you visit him in the hospital. That must be so hard to deal with for you and Bertrand. 

Does it ever stop hurting?” Sophie asks.

“Well, no, you just make room for it.” Maxwell sighs. 

“It is what it is, Maxwell. There is no point dwelling on it.” 

Changing the subject, Bertrand asks, 

“Sophia, I know that you love horses. How would you like to adopt a horse for your very own?”  

Bertrand had information on a retired derby racer that needed a new home. House Beaumont had a horse stable and was considering adding more horses. 

“Really? That would be wonderful...but, I do not want to be a bother.” 

“Nonsense! Consider it done!” Bertrand smiled. 

“Welcome to House Beaumont, Sophie!”, Maxwell announced, as the town car slowed to turn down the long drive of the duchy. 

Looking at the beautiful estate owned by her Uncle Barthelemy and Auntie Beth, Sophie appreciated how far away from her hometown of New York City she really was. 

“Yes, welcome home,” Bertrand smiles fondly. 

Tagging tumblrs showing interest for this fic from Sunday Six. Please let me know if you want to be added or removed⚘️@angelasscribbles @kyra75 @mom2000aggie @ao719 @writing-not @busywoman @703cowbarn @princess-geek @kingliam2019 @txemrn @harleybeaumont

[rimunagenius]

Till Death Do Us Part

Pairing: Will 'Ironhead' Miller x f!Mexican!Reader

Rated: E (everyone)

Words: 2.8k

Summary: A June wedding is all she’s ever wanted. So why not do it with her favorite boys, who are the biggest cheerleaders in Will’s and Cassie’s corner. So, the boys get the first look before witnessing the best moment in their bestfriends and brothers lives.

Warnings: extreme fluff!!! slight angst, implications of death (takes place after Brazil and Redflys death which correlates to Wills lowest), Benny being the sappiest teddy bear bestfriend (to reader), VERY self indulgent (so read if you want), use of the names Cassie Reyes instead of Y/N L/N, and finally happiness. NOT PROOF READ!!

Note: I have been insanely obsessed with the TF men recently (mainly Garret [Benny], Charlie [Will], and Pedro [Frankie]) and im also very lonely and i watched Top Gun and i got carried away with Iceman/Tom Kazansky blurbs and ficlets until i stumbled upon a wedding blurb. It was mainly Iceman being a hardass with everyone except his girl and i feel like that that’s definitely something Will, Frankie and Tom would do (except i absolutely hate Tom), but since i’m more on my sons of anarchy deep dive also, i decided on writing this for my baby Will. Enjoy!!

******

Weddings were fun. For the most part. They’re only ever enjoyable when it’s close friends and family, but even then they’ve always been hard to watch. All the happiness and love was always a hard reminder on you about how you wouldn’t find anyone who would actually treat and see you as an equal and not a toy they can entertain themselves with for a week and drop for the latest and prettiest hot wheels.

You were never the biggest fan. Like you always said, they are fun but hard to watch. But you felt differently the minute you saw your soon to be husband, William Miller on his knee, asking you to be his wife. Not some dickless moron who couldn’t get his head far enough out of his ass to see that he was barely doing the bare minimum when it came to treating you like a partner; an equal lover. But with Will it was different.

He would go above and beyond to make you smile. He would so much as trade shoes with you when your feet hurt from being in heels on date nights. Flip pennies that were tails up on the ground for the next person to find because that was a thing that kept you close to your mom ever since she passed when you were just a teenager. He knew every part of you and cherished every waking moment when he was with you, and even more when you were apart.

This man was the man you would be marrying in just a couple hours. The man you will get to spend the rest of your life with. You couldnt be happier.

You looked yourself over in the mirror as your cousin finished your makeup. You didn’t have sisters only an older brother who had passed. He was supposed to walk you down the isle but he got held in deployment for an extra week, but that week passed and he just never came home. Just a folded flag on your mantle. So, Jazlyn was the closest person to a sibling you had left.

“Aye prima, te ves tan hermosa! You’re breathtaking.” Jazlyn said, level with your ear, looking at you through the reflection in the vanity you two were sitting infront of. “Your mom would have loved seeing you now. She would be absolutely proud of the beautiful woman you have become, hermana. Never forget that.” She kissed your cheek, blowing a kiss through the mirror before she packed the last of her makeup away.

“Stop it, Jazz. Me va a llorar!” You bounced in your seat, shouting playfully to Jazz as you fanned your watering eyes. “I love you, and thank you for doing this. Being here with me since my mom can’t.”

Jazz looked at you as if you just insulted her with the most outrageous insult in the book. “I love you, and you know I wouldn’t miss this for the world babe! You are my little sister and I would do everything in my power tenfold just to see you happy like you deserve. You earned it prima! Now I gotta check on the bridesmaids and setup to make sure it’s perfect.” With one last kiss to your cheek, you smiled and sighed.

“Okay I have my first look with the boys right now. See you in an hour for the wedding.” As she exited the room, you walked over to the full length mirror as you flattened out the white lace fabric of your dress, doing a once over on your whole body to make you looked perfect.

Exiting through the main door, you followed the rather empty hallway to two big glass doors leading to a small well, surrounded by beautiful summer flowers. A June wedding always being your ideal and dream timeframe of a wedding, and of course William Miller would do anything for his girl. You could already see the boys facing the well, their backs to you as you followed the small pebbled path to them as your best friend, Camila, kept them in line and facing the right way as she saw you approaching.

“Okay, are you guys ready?” You spoke softly as you fixed the tail of your dress and the two front strands hanging out from your tightly yet neatly put together braided bun.

A stream of “hell yea’s” and whooping came from the men as you took a deep breath and giving them the okay to turn around. Immediately you wanted to cry. The looks on their faces were enough to bring another grown man to tears. Adoration, joy, and shock took on ever inch their faces fairly well.

Immediately after wiping away a tear, cautious enough to not smear mascara or wipe away foundation, you turn to Benny to see him crying and sighing loudly as he wiped away his tears. “Aw, Benny! Stop it! Your gonna make me cry.” You giggled wiping away another tear before being enveloped in a bear hug by your future brother in law.

“I can’t help it, you look absolutely beautiful Cass. God, my brother is one lucky man and you are one beautiful bride.” He pulled away, flattening out your dress once more, scared of wrinkling it do to his hug along with your hair as he brushed back some flyaways before resting his palms against his eyes, ceasing any more stray tears.

“Thank you, Ben. I love you.” Your eyes were watery but not enough to draw anymore tears thank god. As your eyes fell on the other two men, you couldn’t help but notice their bloodshot eyes as the admired you in your dress. In all your deservingly happy-bride glory.

“You look stunning, cariño. Wills gonna fight like hell to not cry over you.”

“Thank you, Frankie. You don’t look too shabby yourself. You clean up very well, brother. I almost don’t recognize you without your oiler hat.” You admired Frankie and his confidence for geling his hair back with the guest appearence of his grays. Salt and pepper looked good on him.

“Yeah right. Will won’t fight it. He’s gonna cry more than we did, plus you combined when he sees you walking down the isle.” Benny added, emphasizing the ‘you’ with a pointed finger in your direction.

“Estás preciosa. Haces una hermosa novia, princesa. I can’t believe this is the same woman I met 6 years ago.” Santiago placed both of his hands on your cheeks, cautious enough to not mess up your makeup, and he kissed your forehead.

“Gracias, mano. I can’t believe that 6 years ago I met the love of my life and lifelong bestfriend-brothers.” Santi wiped a fallen tear before he placed another kiss ok your forehead, Frankie and Benny doing the same.

Benny held out his arm on your right, and Santi on your left. Accepting their embrace, you laced your arms through before smiling at the both of them and then to your bestfriend.

“Okay, I guess i’ll get the back of her dress.” Frankie sighed as he picked up the tail of your dress.

“Let’s go get you married.” Camila said after taking a pictures of the whole reveal affair.

“Let’s go get me married.”

******

“Please stand for the bride.” The priest said, slowly lifting his hand signaling everyone.

Will adjusted his tie, eyes already stained with tears as Benny was in the same shape, placing his hand on his brothers shoulders briefly.

Everyone stood, and that was your cue to start the walk as heartfelt acoustic started to play. Walking down the isle, your arm locked with your father who couldn’t contain his tears as he was about to give his daughter away to the most and only worthy man on this earth, to love his only daughter.

As you were nearing the end of the isle, you watched Will, Benny, Frankie, and Pope wipe away tears as they watched you walk down the isle. Giggling softly at the greatest, most caring, loving men you have been blessed with all those years ago in that rickety bar, you let your dads arm go as you connected your hand with Wills.

“You may be seated.” The priest said to the guests as you found your spot next to your man on the small platform you and the wedding group stood upon. “I take this moment to wish you both immense happiness in your future lives together. We are gathered here today, family and friends, to witness the sacred union of William Miller and Cassie Reyes. We stand here to honor and celebrate the love shared between these two people, as they come together to start their new life together with a solemn vow, surrounded by their closest family and friends.”

You couldn’t fight the urge to not look at the handsome man next to you as the priest spoke. You looked at Will, the thought of spending the spending the rest of your lives together sending a swarm of butterflies through your stomach, and a wide smile to your face. He must’ve felt you staring as he looked down to you and reciprocated the same shining smile.

Tears evident in both your eyes, you continued to smile and turn your gaze back to the priest.

Both of you excited to start the rest of your lives together as husband and wife.

“You both may share the vows you have prepared. William, you may start.” The officiate gestures to Will as you both faced one another. Will reached into the inside pocket of his blazer, grabbing the small vow book, courtesy to the lovely couple, Camila and Benny.

“My sunshine, Cass. You are the most kind-hearted woman I have had the pleasure of meeting. Your strong and your the most beautiful girl I have ever laid my eyes on. I met you at one of the lowest points in my life, you’ve seen the sleepless nights, the scars, the darkest parts of me. Everything.” You squeezed the hand of his you were holding, forgetting about your makeup as you cried looking at the man before you. His eyes met yours and they had the same look in them as they did all those years ago. Awe, love, adoration, and happiness. “You’ve seen all the ugly parts of me and you still choose me. You chose me when you had every reason to leave. The love and care you have given me all these years is more than what i could’ve asked for. The sleepless, ruthless nights won’t even exist because I could sleep forever next to you. I can’t wait for our movie nights, watching movies we’ve both already seen. While your watching the screen, i’ll only be looking at you. While your looking and pointing out all of your flaws i’ll be there to tell you your most sexiest woman in the world,”

Will drew a laugh from everyone, including you. You laughed, hiding the blush rising in your cheeks. “I’ll be there to tell you that in my eyes you are perfect, as you are. When there’s things i have to do, i’ll blow off all those plans for you because you, Cass, are the most important thing to me and everyone can wait in line. I love you Cass, in sickness and in health, for the rest of my life baby, til death do us part.” As Will finished his vows, he wiped tears away from his eyes, the crowd ‘ou’ing and ‘awe’ing. You mouthed an ‘I love you’ as Jazz, your maid of honor, handed you your vow book.

“Awe man! How am I supposed to compete with that?” You sniffled, earning a couple of laughs, as you cleared your throat to start your vows. Opening your mouth, you already started to get choked up, barely getting the word ‘my’ out before a small sob escaped your mouth. Jazz and Camila patted your back, and Will squeezed your hand.

Will have you a small wink, and mouthed ‘You got this, baby’ before smiling at you.

“My dearest Will,” Again your voice cracked, the tears and chokedness evident in your voice, but you continued. “I don’t know where to begin to express the love and gratitude I have for you. You are the first man to ever love me like how a woman is supposed to be loved. You showed me what it’s like to be someone’s first choice, all the time, and no matter the place. Your kind, caring, compassionate, and although you would never admit this to your friends, you are gentle. I’ve always loved that about you. I knew you were the one for me when you were walking me home from the coffee shop around the corner from my house, when you noticed a penny on the sidewalk infront us. It was heads down, and you flipped it over and kept walking. When i asked you why you had done it, you said “So the next person to find it has good luck.” That’s when I knew i’d love you forever. Your selfless, and you always remember the little things, like when I told you me and my mom loved flipping heads down pennie’s for other people when I was a kid.” You wiped tears that were rapidly falling, Will doing the same across from you.

“I will never try to change you. I will always want the same you. Scars, sleepless nights and all. I want that because I want you, forever. All of you. I swear on everything I pray to, that I won’t break your heart. When you can’t fight, i’ll fight. When you get lonely, i’ll be there to hold you. I’ll keep all the secrets that you’ve told me. Your love is all you owe me. I promise to love you til my lungs give out, for sickness and in health. Forever and always, my love. Til death do us part.” You and Will shared a big smile and the same look. Love. You couldn’t be happier and neither could he. You two were about to be officially married and all you could think about was how happy you both were.

“Do you William Miller, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife, to live together in matrimony, to love her, comfort her, honor and keep her, in sickness and in health, in sorrow and in joy, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for as long as you both shall live?” The priest watched will waiting for his answer. All he saw was the way Will was looking at you, a smile on his face. The priest had already knew the answer.

“Hell yes, I do.”

“Do you Cassie Reyes, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, to live together in matrimony, to love him, comfort him, honor and keep him, in sickness and in health, in sorrow and in joy, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for as long as you both shall live?”

“Fuck yea, I do.” At this point you didn’t even care about the language you had both been using. All you could care about at the moment was marrying the man you loved and wanting to kiss him for the first time as his wife.

The priest laughed, along with most of the venue as he continued his speech. “By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife, you may now kiss the bride.” He couldnt for finish his sentence before Will grabbed your cheeks and kiss you passionately. Cheers and hollers were heard among the venues courtyard as you and Will shared your first kiss as husband and wife.

Will pulled away, and smiled. “Hey.” He whispered against your lips.

“Hey, Mr. Miller.” You whispered back.

“Im gonna kiss you again. You okay with that, Mrs. Miller?” Will smiled at the sound of his last name used in reference to you. He could definitely get used to that.

“Absolutely.”

******

AAAAHH!! that was my very first TF blurb! i really hope you enjoyed it, and if you have some requests for any more triple frontier and the walking dead characters LMK!!!

[hexedrosel-arts]

Too many thoughts head full, time to ramble and say things

- Hall monitor being older brother to the kindergarten kids(Thought about him getting second job to save for college; and also to get the kids ice-cream if they behave; he mostly saves it though)

- Carla and Buggs friendship

- Ozzy and Buggs friendship

- Buggs dynamics with other ppl in general

- Penny X Carla X Monty (wanna write but have more important stuff than this rn :,])

- Kidd, just a lot of ideas about Kidd

- Ozzy, he plagues me daily

- Ozzy and Felix, but what if enemies to friends to lovers mutual pining and angst

- My OCs; specially the one who has her arms replaces with ribbons and she has a tank of poison inserted into her spine, she also now has a gun that shoots said poison and she refuses to die.(Also the angry spirit that follows her around and has knives in that surround him in the form of angel wings and halo)

- Kidd with ram horns(Kidd w/ sacrificial lamb imagery is something weirdly on my mind)

And surprising the one time my English teacher saw an image of Buggs I drew and called him a she(now thinking of butch fem Buggs)

Big thought below where I can't explain it in bullet point form

Honestly, I can't really bring myself to hate any of the Kg and Kg2 characters that aren't the adults. It sounds stupid but I just can't.

The reason is rather simple, they're five year olds. They don’t truly understand what they're doing, like at all. They may be the smartest 5 year olds ever, but they're still 5.

They can kill, harm, and just be the worst ppl ever. But they're glorified toddlers who barely understand that they're hurting each other. A sibling of mine visited our grandfather when he was dying and that stuff slipped over their head, and they were 4. Heck the stuff didn't make sense to myself and I was 7ish.

Felix may want his brother dead, but he might not understand that when his brother dies, he's not coming back. His father knows why he wants this to happen, but Felix may not know in the slightest, or at least not to the extent of that his father does. It's not an exact excuse for Felix’s actions, but I can understand why he has no empathy or care about what he is doing.

I'm using Felix as an example because I did hate Felix before. I hated that he wanted to kill his brother, that he was cruel, he was well Felix. I talked with my sibling about the game(it's been an obsession for a while), when my mom overheard me talking about Felix. She pointed out the exact reason why Felix is innocent in his crime to a degree, he's 5. He doesn't grasp murder or death or what an assassin is. He's smart for a 5 year old, but he still understands the world in the way a child does.

This doesn't just apply to Felix. But to all the kids and all of their little crimes. They don’t understand what they're doing, at least not on the level we do. Cindy and Buggs might understand that bullying is bad, but they don't know how badly they're affecting Lily and Nugget. Jerome doesn't understand that Lily didn't kill his father, he's only correlating that Lily hated his father, Billy went missing, and Billy was found when his father died.

More about Jerome. He's a smart kid yes, but I can't blame him for acting the way he does in Kg2, he's emotional because he found his father's body parts, and Lily found her brother around the same time. He wants revenge because he didn't know what we do. He just wants closure for what he believes was the death of a good man, his father even. Kg2 also takes place the day *after* his father's death, so we take an a child who is still *grieving*, who found his dad's dead body, and has moved to a different school, that's too much for a child to handle. Of course the child is emotional.

Jerome understands death more than the other kids because he experienced in the games first hand. We see the result, he knows his dad isn't coming back, he's upset, and he's not thinking straight. He's in smart class for a reason, but clearly he should have time to process his father's passing. In things that go boom(? Carla's misson), he acts irrationally upon seeing Lily because that's how a 5 year old would react, he found his father's supposed murderer and wants revenge.

When he finds the truth you know what happens? He cries harder, he apologizes to Lily and Kidd in that misson as well. He accepts that father was bad, which is a lot more than mature than he should be at that age, and moves on. He perfectly shows how these kids, while much smarter than regular 5 year olds, they still act like kids and behave.

(Note: I found it weird that a lot of the older wattpad fics charactized Jerome as always hating Lily even when they got older. But I can't blame them, we see Jerome as clearly being in the wrong, but we don't think to look at this in Jerome's perceptive)

In the end they're kids, glorified toddlers even. Death doesn't phase them because they don't understand it. They know things at a basic level, yes they are uber smart for 5 year olds, but they are still 5 year olds. I can't be mad at these kids for being- well kids. Yes they're mean and cruel to each other, but they're still kids. They don't understand that killing each other means they won't come back, to them maybe death means they won't see that person for a while.

[darkleysgarden]

A Shadow of Him

Originally posted July 24th 2022 (Now November 11th)

Warnings: Night Terror/Memory in sleep

(Platonic) Pairing: Satan and Mammon

Type: Angst | Hurt/Comfort

Words: 4847

Summary: Satan wakes up feeling terrible about always standing in Lucifer's shadow. Things don't improve when the two of them get into a fight, and he gets dreams concerning Lucifer's past. Mammon does his best to comfort his younger brother. He realizes his brothers care more than he ever knew.

As he woke up he could already noticed how awful he felt. He didn't feel like he could get out of bed. It wasn't as if he was physically sick. He just felt heavy. He felt weighted down by all of the emotions that he had successfully pushed down for years.

Satan didn't move an inch. Only staring up at the ceiling in the exact same position as when he woke up. It didn't feel worth it to move.

As he lay there his thoughts spiraled. Images of Lucifer making a constant appearance.

Was he only a copy of Lucifer? Nobody thought of him as more.

There were always people in the halls talking about his worth, comparing him to his older brother. Saying he was nothing.

Why did he suddenly care what they thought?

There was always gossip at RAD and his family had the misfortune of being a common interest. People say anything they think without knowing anything at all.

Satan never wanted to be like Lucifer. He tries his hardest every day to suppress himself. He can't allow himself to be like Lucifer. It would only prove them right.

Satan was a mask he wore, one that was different from Lucifer. But then why do people still say Satan is just the same as his elder.

He's different, there are loads of differences!

But none come to mind, only similarities.

Ones he failed to mask.

People considered them to be the same type of demon.

Maddi always went on about how both of them were her type. Why was he the same type as Lucifer?

He felt the sting of tears, but tried desperately not to let them fall. He couldn't do this. He had school today.

As if on que with his thoughts, a loud knock pounded on his door, undoubtedly having to do with him sleeping in, "Oi Satan! Are ya gonna wake up?"

Oh great, Mammon was here.

He would've let out a sigh, but decided it wasn't worth the energy. He was too tired. Couldn't Mammon just mind his own business and leave him alone?

Deep down he knew Mammon was there for a reason. He needed to get up for school. He couldn't wreck his perfect attendance. He already falls so behind on Lucifer's achievements. He doesn't want to sit any further behind then his already bad second place.

Lucifer was so highly regarded and he was practically a nobody in comparison. Satan doing good in school is the only thing that holds him together. Proving he can at least do something right

He can't be Diavolo's right hand man. Can't be looked up to by younger siblings expectantly. Can't have trust put into him at the same level. Can't be the eldest. Can't be Lucifer.

If he is so similar to Lucifer then why can't he be anything? Why can't he live up to the high standards set by Lucifer.

He was only a faulty copy of an already perfect being.

Mammon stopped knocking on the door.

In a slightly concerned voice he said, "Hey 'Tan I'm comin' in alright? Ya better not be naked or somethin'."

Mammon slowly opened the door and walked in, making sure to close it behind him.

Satan was still laying in his same position, glazed over eyes staring at the ceiling.

He had bags under his eyes that made it seem as if he hadn't slept in weeks. He wore one of his favorite baggy sweaters, though the blanket was pulled up to the point that only the sleeves were visible. His arms were laying above the blanket, fingers slightly curled in due to frustration.

Mammon cautiously walked over to the bed, "Are ya feelin' alright?"

Satan pressed his lips together, glancing at Mammon with half-lidded eyes. He worked up enough energy to ever so slightly shake his head.

His older brother became worried at that, quickly putting his hand on the younger forehead to check his temperature, "Ya don't seem ta have a fevah."

He looked slightly as if he was going to question Satan's honesty. Only then realizing that this was Satan they were talking about. He doesn't skip school for no reason.

"Ok.....I'll let Luci know," Mammon looked at him with pity before leaving the room.

Once Mammon left, he allowed Satan to return to his thoughts.

Maybe he should just get up right now, say he was a little extra tired before to give a proper answer. That he stayed up all night trying to finish a good book.

But he could hardly move his head right now, how could he move around all day while keeping up his multitude of facades.

He had to impress Lucifer and keep up his perfect brother act. At the same time he couldn't act too much like Lucifer, they weren't the same. He couldn't forget acting happy around his siblings, teachers, and other students as if he didn't feel pure rage burning inside him almost constantly.

His mind stayed blank for awhile, he didn't know how long. Even though to him, it felt like forever, he guessed it had been no more than 10 minutes.

This was because there was a small knock on his door before Lucifer entered seconds later. He probably came up here after hearing Mammon's news on the 4th born's condition.

He walked in, eyebrows furrowed, in a cold voice he demanded, "I'd like you to inform me why you think it is alright to skip school when you have no fever, not to mention breakfast."

Satan saw red in that moment.

Why did he care about what he did?

Mammon skipped school all the time, as well as his other brothers.

Sure Lucifer would scold them, but he didn't put a stop to it, not like this.

Why did he always pick Satan as the one that needs to be perfect all the time.

He doesn't expect the same from any of the rest of them.

Yet Satan has to make sure that he got A's on every test.

He had to make sure he didn't stain his perfect attendance.

Lucifer forced him not to fall behind in the slightest even when Satan was panting and his legs were buckling, struggling to even stand, he had to keep running.

He couldn't catch up, but he had to.

It's what was expected of him.

Even if he had to stay up all night studying material that made no sense, he wouldn't allow himself to be anything less then perfect.

He could still remember the day when him and his brother's handed Lucifer their report cards and him skimming by them expecting nothing more than the C's with hardly any effort put into them.

He had stopped on Satan's, noticing his A- in Math.

It wasn't as if Satan was terrible at Math. It's just a very hard class, and he swears his teacher that year was praying on his downfall.

Lucifer glanced at him with a look of disappointment Satan would never forget, but didn't comment on it, just moving on to the next card.

Later that night he was left crying, he knew it didn’t matter in the long run. But, he couldn't shake the feeling of his heart sinking when he saw the look on Lucifer's face.

Asmodeus tried to comfort him that night. Words such as, "Don't worry about it, I get mostly B's and that's just pretty average." Didn't do much to help.

Satan sat up and looked Lucifer dead in the eye, noticing how his expression had yet to change. Rage fueling his ability to move.

Hardly able to keep his voice from shaking in his rage he said barely above a whisper, "Why is it always me?"

Lucifer's glare worsened, "I'm sorry."

Satan now almost yelled, "Why do I always have to be the perfect one!? You never expect this of Mammon or Belphie or Levi or anyone else! Why is it always me!?"

Lucifer glanced away, obviously annoyed at his outburst, "You know I expect a lot from you, don't be overdramatic about it."

Overdramatic.

He thought he was just being overdramatic about it.

Satan felt his wrath bubbling up inside of him. He muttered, "Get out."

Lucifer glared at him, "What did you just say?"

"GET OUT"

Lucifer stared at him a moment longer before turning around and leaving the room. Not caring to waste time on his younger brother. Time he could spend working or doing something actually important.

He felt like a ticking time bomb, like even the slightest thing could send him off into a fit of rage.

He wanted to throw a tantrum like a small child, destroy his room, ripping up every book he owned until there was nothing but shreds.

Maybe Lucifer was right and he was just being 'overdramatic' but he didn't care right now.

His fists were curled so tight that his knuckles turned white, teeth barred as well.

Why couldn't Lucifer just let him live? Why couldn't he just live?

Satan only then regretted that thought, remembering back to when Lucifer ignored him entirely.

When he was young and he would run up to Lucifer hoping to get some sort of affection only for Lucifer to turn his back on him. Satan's smile would fade. He would try again tomorrow to see if Lucifer cared about him then.

Mammon would grab him back and tell him not to bother their older brother. A sad look on his face. Clearly upset at the distance the eldest put between him and his brother's, especially their newest member, who only brought Lucifer shame.

Satan knew why, he wasn't stupid.

But, every time Lucifer ignored Satan, his own creation, he felt his heart shatter.

Sometimes Satan wondered why he was even part of this family.

Mammon decided to keep him.

Lucifer told Mammon it would be better to rid of him the moment he was created.

But Mammon stayed by his side and helped him no matter the situation. He taught him how to speak more than a few basic words. He helped him adjust to his title as Avatar of Wrath.

He helped him fit in.

His brother's were all fallen angels. He was born a demon.

He didn't fit in with his brothers. Heck they weren't even really his brothers. Levi would always joke about him pretty much being Lucifer's son. And he was right.

He was created off a set of Lucifer's wings and his wrath

Lucifer didn't choose to take care of him like he did Mammon. Nor was he gifted to him by Lucifer's Father.

No matter how much Mammon tried to help him fit in, he didn't. No matter how much time he spent with Asmo gossiping, shopping, or getting their nails done. No matter how many pranks he pulled with Belphie.

He wasn't the same.

Satan pushed his covers off of him, not caring when they fell onto the floor.

His room was already messy enough that it wasn't going to make a difference.

He walked over to his closet, carefully tip-toeing around the piles of books taller than he was.

He opened the door, eyes going to the full length mirror hanging on the inside of the door.

On the corners as well as the rim of the mirror there were cat stickers scattered about. There was even a few magnets, some cats, others characters or objects from his favorite books.

Around the mirror there were pictures of him, his brothers, official arts from books he read, photos of past pet cats, as well as photo's of exes or Lucifer that have previously been crossed out or drawn on in one of his fits of rage.

There were also two containers stuck on the door. One with pens, page markers, and highlighters used for annotations. The other had book marks stuffed to the brim as he frequently got them as gifts or picked them up from the library free pile.

He looked into the mirror, taking his features into account.

People were quick to say they looked a lot alike.

But, Satan has spent hours in front of the mirror closely analyzing his face, noticing any small details that were different.

His cheeks were fuller, his eyebrows thinner, and his hair was more thick and rough while Lucifer's was thin and smooth.

He analyzed down to the slightest curl of his mouth or point of his nose. There were tiny freckles under his eyes that Lucifer didn't have.

His eyes were wider then Lucifer's, hands and body smaller and thinner.

There were so many differences that he couldn't understand why everyone compared their appearances so much.

He noticed a different similarity.

Lilith had full cheeks. She had tiny freckles and thin eyebrows. Her hair was thick and rough.

Lucifer's anger was over Lilith's death after all.

He looked down at his bare feet, noticing how the nails were painted green thanks to Asmodeus.

By the closet door was a copy of TSL him and Levi got signed together after meeting up with Simeon.

On his bedside table was a box of red apple pie bars Beel got him and resisted the urge to eat after seeing them at the market.

The sweater he was wearing Mammon had bought for him on a shopping spree.

One of the blankets he had previously pushed off his bed, fluffy and green, was a gift from Belphie.

There was evidence of all of them caring for him, even Lucifer.

He picked up a book that was settled on his reading chair. One that Lucifer bought him for his birthday a couple months ago after Satan had only mentioned it coming out once.

He sat down on the edge of his bed, thinking.

They all seemed to care and consider him to be their brother. Then why does Satan push them all away?

Shoving Asmo when he tried to hug him, telling Mammon he is not a child anymore and he shouldn't be dotting on him, refusing to go to Levi even when he loved to confide in him, and countless other things he had been rejecting.

He laid down, arm over his eyes, not even bothering to grab his blankets off the floor.

Soon drifting into sleep.

○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○

In front of Father was a young girl floating in her sleep.

Her expression was calm unlike how humans were when they took their first breath.

She had a circle of light around her, indicating that she had yet to be accepted into The Celestial Realm. Still waiting for the final stages to be completed.

She looked to be about 2 years human-wise. Though, unlike human 2 year olds, her hair was long, reaching her elbows.

Her beautiful blonde hair floated around her, the fronts pulled back in a way that perfectly framed her face.

A flowy white dress reached her ankles, flowing in the same way as her hair.

The dress had poofy sleeves with ruffles to end them off. The dress was scrunched up with elastics on the torso. A white ribbon tied around her waist, bow in the back. A layered petticoat beneath that made the dress poof out beautifully. Feet bare.

Her dress was bound to change with age as all angel outfits did. Shoes were up to her. Not every angel decided to wear them.

He was kneeled in front of the girl, awaiting Father's orders.

His eyes stayed trained down, but he still kept some focus on the girl.

Father spoke, voice echoing powerful and gracefully, "Her name will be Lilith. I assure that you will be able to handle her."

He stood carefully, still bowing his head, "Of course, Father. I've been handling the twins and the other's rather well."

Father chuckled softly, "I expected no less."

***

He noticed Simeon carrying a basket of apples, walking across the fields.

Simeon stopped at the sight of him, quickly greeting his arrival, "Simeon have you seen Lilith anywhere? I have a task for her, but I've looked everywhere and can't seem to find her."

Simeon smiled kindly, "I believe her and the twins have snuck down to the human realm again. Such troublemakers aren't they?"

Simeon then giggled at the antics of the younger angels.

***

Belphie and Beel had cheeky looks on their faces as they dragged in a nervous Lilith.

He looked up at them, confusion evident on his face, "Lilith is there something the matter?"

Belphie smiled widely, "She has something she'd like to tell you."

Her eyes focused on the floor, "I've fallen in love..... with a human."

***

He followed Lilith to the human world that day in hopes of meeting her new boyfriend.

Said boyfriend was unaware of their roles as angels.

She led him to a small house stationed on a hill.

As they entered a young man stood from his chair, making his way over to the two, already aware that the elder would be present that day.

Lilith moved to stand next to him as he held out a hand.

They shook and exchanged pleasantries as well as small talk.

Near the end of their visit he demanded, "You best make sure that you treat my sister with the utmost respect."

He chuckled kindly, "Wouldn't dream of anything less."

***

His sister had been neglecting her duties all day, and he was tasked with finding her.

He searched practically everywhere, unable to locate her.

Then he decided it may be best to search outside of the gates.

He walked up to his younger brother who guarded the gates, "Beelzebub, have you seen Lilith around here?"

He nodded, face sad, "She exited the gates earlier, asking me not to bother her. I'm sorry but I doubt she'd like to see you right now."

He looked down, shaking his head, "I'll have to go against her requests then."

He left the gates, entering the forest.

For a moment he looked around in a meaningless fashion. Only then to remember the tree Belphie liked to sleep in when he was too tired to attend his duties.

That's where he found her. She was sitting at the base of the tree, knees pulled into her arms, hugging herself.

She was silently crying.

He frowned at that, "Lilith, dear, is something the matter?"

He looked up at him shocked, only now having noticed him, "He's sick. He's sick and I don't know what to do."

Her voice wavered as she spoke, only making him more worried, "I'm sorry, but not much can be done.... Human's have very fragile health."

***

"Do you know why I've called you here today?"

He kept his eyes at the floor, kneeling as he always did, a form of respect, "No Father, may you inform me?"

Father let out a small sigh, "One of the children placed into your care has broken a key rule."

Instantly he was confused. Who would have done something so wrong? Even Mammon who caused a ton of trouble surely wouldn't have stepped that far out of line. Far enough for him to be called here.

Father very rarely requested to see anyone. Usually only for the birth of a new angel. Or a very bad punishment.

He voiced his confusion, "I'm sorry Father, I have failed to catch anyone in a wrong act. Who has stepped out of line?"

Father shook his head, "Lilith has stolen a sacred fruit, using it to elongate a human's life span. Do you see the issue here?"

He felt his blood run cold. He knew what punishment would come from her crime. But he didn't want to accept it. It was far to harsh for a girl like her. Yet, there was only one punishment that got issued.

Obliteration

***

He went against Father.

The Celestial War had started.

His siblings were scared and injured.

At least Lilith was still alive.....right?

***

Belphie screaming in horror got his attention.

He turned to see Beelzebub holding back Belphegor who was thrashing and screaming in his hold.

Lilith was shot through her heart.

Lilith was shot through her heart.

There was an arrow piercing through both sides of her, no sound escaped her lips.

She began to fall.

***

He held her bloody wounded body desperately.

She couldn't die. Not like this.

He prayed to the Father he had betrayed to spare her.

He knew there was no hope as she weakly smiled, letting out her last breath.

Body limp in his arms.

A hand was placed on his shoulder.

○●○●○●○●○●○●○

Satan shot up in bed, "Lilith!"

He breathed heavy, heart aching for his dead sister.

He missed her so much. Why did she die like that? So young and full of life.

Wait....

He never knew Lilith. She died the morning of his birth.

He was dreaming of Lucifer's memories again.

He tried to calm his breaths to no avail.

He had felt Lucifer's emotions. How he felt when their sister had died.

Briefly Satan wondered why he was even born in the first place.

It wasn't fair to any of his brother's. They knew Lilith. They didn't know him.

Why did he come as a replacement for her. Blonde hair and green eyes, matching features.

A reminder of that day. October 20th the day their beloved sister died and was replaced with a faulty copy of Lucifer that wasn't even made right.

He couldn't keep up the acts Lucifer could. Today being clear evidence of that.

He pulled his knees up to himself, much like Lilith had in his dream, and began to cry.

Unlike Lilith however, he didn't stay silent in his cries. Too upset at his overwhelming emotions to care.

That was the biggest problem with his sin, Wrath. All of his emotions were prone to going haywire at the slightest inconvenience.

He stopped for a moment, realizing he would be embarrassed if anyone else heard him.

He checked that clock which read 1:53. School would get out at 2:00.

Before thinking about who he had to worry about he thought about who he didn't.

Yesterday Asmodeus was talking about getting a date with someone in his Devildom Law class about an hour after school. He said he would drop by Solomon's so he could help him get ready in a quick manor. Satan found this silently funny as he was sure the two of the them have been pinning after eachother for centuries.

Today was a Thursday and he knew that Beelzebub had Fangol practice on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Belphie would always go along to watch, inevitably falling asleep on the bleachers.

Lucifer went to the Demon Lord's castle after school for work. Though in Satan's opinion he believed he just liked spending time with Diavolo. He would show up just in time for dinner or earlier if it was his turn to make it. Afterwards he would return to his his office to do even more paperwork.

Once Leviathan gets home he makes a beeline for his room, only coming out for dinner. He believed Levi would never leave his room if it wasn't for Lucifer's orders of school and family meals. He'd even had a hand at online school many times before.

That only left Mammon. Mammon was annoying and loud but very kind. After his display this morning in front of the second born he knew he would be coming back.

He sighed, preparing himself. Hoping that Mammon decided to go out to a casino loosing thousands of grimms. Mammon's debt would end up an inconvenience for Lucifer, making Satan break a small smile.

It's not like he hated his oldest brother. He just believes he could be a lot nicer to them, maybe even pretend to care. Lucifer was too prideful for his own good. Sure Pride was his sin, but he could try to suppress it a little bit.

He goes on about how Lord Diavolo and his image are more important then his siblings. Not caring when they get hurt or sick, just about Lord Diavolo.

Satan hated the relationship between Lucifer and Lord Diavolo. They treated eachother as if they were secret lovers or something and Satan hated it.

Maybe if he took some time out of his day to spend with Satan like he did with Asmo or Mammon then he wouldn't have the same view. Maybe if Lucifer ever praised him for his hardwork instead of just saying that's what was expected from him.

Maybe if Lucifer ever said that he loved him.

He wasn't a fool, he and everyone else knew Mammon was his favorite brother. He also knew Mammon had troubles in school.

It wasn't a big shock to see Lucifer praise Mammon for even a low C. Or say he loved him or anything else.

But, it still hurt to see. He had heard him praise or tell his love to all of his brothers.

Satan couldn't remember a single time he had been addressed individually about his accomplishments.

Sure there were times where he would say something like, 'I'm proud of all of you.' 'You all did well.' Or even, 'I love you guys."

Though it was never individual for him.

He wasn't even aware that his tears had stopped the first time until they started again. Ugly sobs shaking his form.

The tears wouldn't stop and he was having trouble sucking in air. Sobs replacing any inhales. He wipes his nose to stop the snot from running. Not even bothering to try wiping his eyes as there was no break between tears.

He distantly hears his bedroom door click open. His body stiffened as he quickly rubbed his sleeves at his eyes aggressively. The panic helped him stop crying but he was still sniffling.

His mattress creaks as someone sat down near the end. Their hands were gently placed onto his own, guiding his arms away from his face.

Mammon sat there looking worried, "Satan are ya okay? Who am I kiddin' ya aren't. Wha's wrong?"

A few stray tears escaped as he stared into Mammon's concerned eyes.

"I-.." He couldn't let anything out, tears beginning again at the same speed as they had been before.

Mammon's hands floated around Satan's form, unsure, "Is it okay if I hug ya?"

Satan nodded eagerly, hoping desperately for the contact he had been rejecting.

The second born pulled him into his arms, running his hand through the younger's hair.

He returned the hug, probably squeezing Mammon a bit too tightly. He sobbed into Mammon's shoulder, happy that he was allowing him to cry like this without forcing answers out of him.

Mammon pushed him back just enough that they were looking into eachother's eyes, "How 'bout we find somethin' ta do fer the time bein' an' once Asmo gets back ya guy's can talk 'bout his date. Or when Belph gets back ya can play a prank on Luci or whatever.

Satan smiled and nodded, "What sort of thing do you wanna do?"

Mammon smiled too when he noticed Satan was cheering up, "Chess?"

He held in laughter, "You lose every time!"

Mammon giggled and put a finger to his chin, faking a thinking face. He then waved his finger around when he thought of something, "I can read ya a book."

Satan let out a small laugh, "You're dyslexic."

He pulled a thinking face again, "Yer right. Bad idea. Hmmmm, how 'bout we watch TSL?"

He started to laugh harder at Mammon, who was purposely acting stupid to cheer Satan up. Even though Satan could tell, he still appreciated it.

"Well...I do prefer the book over the movie, so I don't know..."

Mammon started laughing too, "Okay, okay, we'll figure somethin' out later. How 'bout now we get some food in ya."

Satan nodded knowing that he hadn't eaten all day so it was probably wise to do so.

They both went down to the kitchen to prepare a pre-dinner snack.

Satan sat down on the counter as he watched Mammon grab ingredients from the fridge.

Mammon stopped in the middle of a movement, "Hold on, what am I even makin'?"

Satan started to laugh at Mammon's antics, the latter quickly joining in.

He stopped laughing and just looked up at his older brother, the one who singlehandedly raised him. Noticing how much Mammon had changed over the years. Hell, how much Satan had changed over the years, their relationship as well!

They had become much more distance in the past couple centuries. And Satan really wishes they never let themselves move apart like that.

Mammon stopped laughing too after noticing that Satan had stopped, "Ya okay?"

Satan nodded, "Yeah, just thinking."

As Mammon smiled at him again, he realized how lucky he was to have a brother like Mammon. He was the one who gave him the chance to become closer to Asmo, Levi, and Belphie. Mammon was the reason he was still here today.

He was happy that Mammon had kept him all those years ago. He muttered a quiet, "Thank you."

[griffintail]

Okay so I'm on an angst kick tonight so here's a fic about how Little bee feels about all her new siblings.

Old news

Bee was hitting her breaking point, ANOTHER new sibling? As if Michael wasn't enough now she had to complete with the literal angel that was Boo. Her step fathers new adopted child. How could her dad do this to her? Bringing in this new 'family' as if their real family wasn't God knows where alone. She missed her cousin and uncle dearly, Little (F/L) was practically her sister at this point and sometimes Tommy was more of a father to her then her own dad. It drove the teen up the wall how quickly her father discarded them.

Now she's supposed to consider these strangers her family? No way in nether.

If anyone wants to expand on this feel free too, I wanted to write an argument but I can't think of good dialog for it.-🦊

Hahaha. Angst that I feel on a personal level. I didn’t add Little boo because I try to keep the characters separate when I write for the Lost Ones kids but there’s most certainly Michael! I really wanted to write this....NON-CANON TO LOST ONES

Old News

Pairing: Parental! Tubbo x F! Teenage! Reader

Part 2

Warnings: Angst, Misread Situations, Feelings of Neglect

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

         She sat alone at the docks, looking back to see her father playing with Michael in the upper story window. She huffed angrily as she looked back to the freezing water.

         …They were supposed to go fishing today. But Michael was sad.

         They were supposed to go last week but Ranboo wanted a day together with no kids. So, she had to watch the stupid zombie piglin…

         God, she never thought she’d miss the days when Uncle Tommy would drag her and Tubbo off on dangerous adventures. She never thought she’d miss all his yelling…she never thought she’d miss L’Manberg…With all the good memories that it held inside…

         At this rate, she’d start missing how her father and Tommy fought Dream all the time!

         “Hey.” She jumped, looking up to see Foolish. “You’re shaking kid, you should get inside.”

         Her jacket had long since felt cold. She just didn’t want to go inside and listen to dad talk to Michael though. Not when he hadn’t properly talked to her in months. She looked at the house before looking at Foolish.

         “Is the mansion warm?”

         “Uh, kind of. There should be a few rooms, come on.”

         She got up and followed Foolish inside. She’d go to her actual room later…for now, she just wanted to sit and watch the trees sway without thinking about everything she missed…

         …

         She stirred her mushroom soup as she sat at the dining table inside their home after night fell. Ranboo was out, thank god, but Tubbo was upstairs with Michael again and she had to make and eat dinner for one…

         “Hey, I need to talk to Foolish before he leaves. Watch Michael for a few minutes alright?” Tubbo asked her as he jumped down from the ladder.

         “Ok.” She muttered.

         “Thanks.” He smiled before rushing out.

         She rolled her eyes and kept eating her warm soup. The kid wouldn’t die, he was old enough to be fine. There was no need to make her eat cold soup to watch the stupid zombie piglin. After a few bites though, she heard a loud thud upstairs and she face-palmed before going up the ladder.

         The little zombie piglin was sniffling as a little bit of blood trickled from his forehead.

         “What happened?” She sighed, going over and sitting in front of the zombie piglin, wiping the blood away with her sleeve.

         Michael pointed to the bed and the floor and she shook her head.

         “You jump off the bed?” And he nodded. “Yeah, that hurts like hell. I fell off a lot of crap, mostly because Uncle Tommy dared me but I digress.”

         Michael gave a snort and she gave a small glare with no actual heat behind it.

         “You think that’s funny little shit?” She asked and Michael shrank but she smiled. “I’m just joking. But hey, watch out, I’ve been taught by a lawyer, I’ll sue you next time.”

         She didn’t hate Michael; she just didn’t like how he and Ranboo got all of her father’s attention. Michael was a funny kid and smart when given the chance. She just wanted to avoid him though so she didn’t have to think about what he gets that she can’t.

         “Alright, come on, I think there’s some of those special potions for you downstairs.” She said, standing up.

         The teenager was about to pick him up when Tubbo came into the room.

         “Hey, how—What happened?!” Tubbo exclaimed, rushing to Michael, not a second glance to (Y/N).

         “Oh, he just fell a bit.” (Y/N) said.

         “He fell?! How? Weren’t you watching him?” Tubbo asked her with even looking at her as he carefully looked at the minor cut on Michael’s head.

         “Dad, he’s fine. It’s just a little cut from a fall.” She wasn’t watching him but she also wasn’t going to tell on Michael that he just jumped off the bed.

         “You call this fine?!” He motioned to Michael as he finally looked at her.

         “Yeah, I had a lot worse going on adventures with you and Uncle Tommy.”

         “Yeah! But he’s not you!” Tubbo huffed looking away.

         (Y/N) was taken aback by that. He wasn’t her…No, no Michael wasn’t her. He was better than her, just look. Michael always has her father’s attention. What was she? Just…just a disappointment.

         Tubbo canceled plans with her, Tubbo rarely spoke to her as much, Tubbo barely spared her a glance some days. He had a better family now…

         “You’re right.” She whispered, Michael giving little snorts seeing the tears in the older girl’s eyes. “I’m going to go.”

         “I think that will be best,” Tubbo said, once more not looking at her as he picked Michael up.

         Her lip quivered before nodding as she rushed downstairs. Tears poured down her cheeks as she grabbed a bag and threw her clothes in. Nothing else.

         She left the house, hearing nothing from her father as she walked away from Snowchester.

         It was better for everyone…They could be happy without her bothering them now…

         The darkness surrounded her as she clutched her bag as she crossed the path back towards Dream SMP land. As she got across, she looked up at the well-lit hotel her uncle had finally won back. Without much thought, she dashed up the path to the building. As she got to the door, she hesitated.

         Would it be better for her uncle if she didn’t bother him? Would he be happier?

         “(Y/N)?” She heard behind her and she once more jumped as she looked to see Tommy walking past the gates to the hotel.

         He stopped seeing her red eyes and the tears staining her cheeks, along with the bag by her side. He then rushed over, taking her arms.

         “What happened? Who hurt you? Who the fuck is going to die?”

         At his words, she sobbed. She hadn’t felt this cared about in months…

         Tommy was startled before hugging her tightly. “Hey, it’s ok, kid. I’ll fuck up their shit for you. No need for the waterworks. Let’s get inside.”

         He brought her inside as she cried harder and he didn’t get much of an explanation once she calmed down as she didn’t want to talk about it but he set her up with a room and told her they’d talk about it tomorrow when she got some rest. Yes, Tommy was worried but he knew that he couldn’t just force the kid to tell him everything when she looked exhausted.

         “I don’t know how Tubbo fucked this up, but I’ll fuck up his shit later,” Tommy told her, ruffling her hair. “After I beat the ass of who hurt you. Get some rest.”

         He left the room after that as she held back the tears this time. If only he knew, and lord did it feel so good to feel like someone cared…She had missed Uncle Tommy…

         …

         Tubbo came to (Y/N)’s door later after putting Michael to sleep. Tubbo felt guilty about getting so snippy with his daughter. She was right, kids get hurt. He remembered the clumsy little girl that would fall down all the time or who he’d have to catch after Tommy dared her to jump from various places. It made him feel guiltier when Michael tried to stick up for her, trying to take all the blame.

         He hadn’t been angry; he was just scared. He had fucked up in some areas with (Y/N), he couldn’t fuck up again. Michael wasn’t the same as her, he was more fragile, a different creature entirely, which meant he had to be extra careful. It was better she went to her room though, so he didn’t say something he’d regret. He felt regret though for being so loud with his words.

         “(Y/N).” He knocked on her door.

         She didn’t answer and he sighed.

         “I’m sorry for yelling. I didn’t mean it. I was just scared because Michael isn’t like you or me. He gets hurt a lot easier. And…shit. I forgot about fishing, didn’t I? I’m making a lot of mistakes today. I’m so sorry little lamb. I…I’ll leave Michael with Foolish tomorrow and we’ll have a day all to ourselves, no matter what. We’ll have your favorite breakfast and do whatever you want, ok? Just you and me my special little bee.”

         There was still no answer and he let out another as he nodded.

         “I’m going to stick to it! I promise (Y/N). I love you so much. Good night.”

         And he left without opening the door to see what he’d find out tomorrow…

[one-sad-human]

•Pinky Promises• Steven Adler

Pairing: Steven Adler x Reader, Axl Rose x Sibling! Reader

Requested? Yup! By an anon

Theme: Angst(?) to fluff

Warnings: Language, sexual references but nothing explicit

Word Count: 1.8k

A/N: Fic 1 of 2! Hope you enjoy! Also, the makeout near the end gets sorta hot and it was pretty fun to write? Like I’m considering exploring into writing smutter pieces. I didn’t want to originally because I thought I’d cringe all the way through and hate the result but I might try it out in the near future. Nothing too crazy but it’s something for me to think about.

     You step off of the large bus, your combat boots hitting the ground as you adjust the bag slung over your shoulder. It's stuffed to the brim with whatever you threw in, you're surprised the zipper did burst.

     You take a deep breath of the LA air. It's hot and humid and despite the thick air pollution, you can breath easier than you did in Indiana.

     You grew up in Lafayette, Indiana with your older half-brother William. You were raised in the hellish house with your shared father, which you finally managed to escape.

     William left right at eighteen. He tried taking you with him, but you didn't want him to be charged with kidnapping and have the cops on his ass. Now, two years and your father's stolen wallet later, you're finally in the city of dreams.

     "Will!" You yell out, spotting your redheaded other half.

     "Y/N!" He mocks, catching your figure in a crushing hug. He's taller than you, so you have to stand on your tippy toes during the embrace. "Thank God you're alright."

     "I'm fine, I'm happy to finally see you again," you say, a huge grin on your face. "How's the band? Everything going well?"

     "Well enough," he says with a shrug, grabbing your heavy bag and slinging it around his shoulder. "Come on, I'll introduce you to the guys. You already know Izzy of course, but the rest of them."

     The walk to the 'hell house' as Will had called it is filled with catching up. He made sure to keep in contact with you, but the phone calls were always short. It felt nice to have a full length conversation in person with your brother again.

     "Welcome home," Will says, leading you into the house. You grimace when you catch a whiff of stale beer and weed.

     "You seriously live here? This place should be condemned," you say with disgust.

     "And then where would we live?" The oh-so familiar voice of Will's best friend meets your ears. You whip around and fly into his arms.

     "Jeffery! I missed you so much! You really should've tried calling, you ass!" You exclaim. Izzy rolls his eyes but smiles nonetheless, patting your back during the hug.

     "Who's this?" Another man enters the living room— if that's what it should even be called. He's blonde, taller than you but shorter than the other two men in the room. He has kind eyes and the smile he has on his handsome face leaves you speechless.

     "U-uh, hi. I'm Y/N," you say after a moment of shameless gawking. If he noticed, he doesn't mention it.

     "Oh that's right! Axl talks a lot about you! I'm Steven," he says and bounds up to you, catching your hand in a shake. You don't question who the hell 'Axl' is, but you smile stupidly at him and bite your lip with a blush staining your face.

     "No," Will says, glaring at the cute blonde you've taking an immediate liking to. "Absolutely not."

     "William!" You squeak out, pinching his shoulder harsher. He yelps and swats your hand away. Will glares further at you as he ushers you up the creaky stairs to your room. "Nothing happened! And who the fuck is 'Axl'?"

     "I saw how you were looking at him! I'm not naive, Y/N. You were giving him the 'fuck me' eyes! And me, everyone calls me Axl here." You give him a look. "Except you, of course. You can call me Will."

     You don't give him another word as he leads you to your bedroom. He was the one who didn't have a roommate before, and he'd have to share with Slash now but he was determined to give you your privacy.

     "This is the only room with a working lock, use it. Especially when your changing! Three horny men in a house with one you isn't a good combo." You make a face and shake your head, but you can't really tell if he's being overprotective or if his band mates really are pigs.

     "Are you not including Izzy?"

     "Please, he's the only smart one besides me. He knows I'll rip him a new one." You laugh and give Will another hug.

     "I've really missed hanging out with you like this, and thank you for letting me stay here." He nods and rubs your back.

     "No problem, we have each other's backs, always." You nod and release your bother from the hug. "One rule though: no hooking up with the guys. One time thing or not, you don't know them like I do, I won't let you get hurt. So don't even try anything with Steven!"

     "Even if it's nothing sex?" Will levels you with a look that would make you sweat if you were anyone else. You sigh and roll your eyes. "Fine! I promise."

     "Pinky promise?" He asks, holding out his pinky finger. You shake your head but comply anyway, hooking your pinky on his.

     "Wow, bringing out the big guns, pinky promises," you tease.

     "Bitch," he mumbles. You gasp sarcastically.

     "Asshole!" You reply. William takes his leave with another slew of insults under his breath but none to be taken seriously and all with a smile. You shut your door after him and lay on your bed, content with how things are finally beginning to look up.

If you knew where you would be in just a few months of living with your brother and his band, you never would've agreed to the naive promise Will had forced on you. You think back to the day with a frown.

"Whatcha thinkin' about?" Steven asks, pecking your bare shoulder as he lays behind you on your bed. You both lay naked and damp with sweat, glowing from the moonlight streaming in the room.

"William," you say with a sigh.

"We just had sex and your thinking of your brother? Should I be worried about you?" Steven asks teasingly. You fight the smile growing on your face and lightly pinch the his arm tightly wrapped around you. He never fails to make you laugh.

"I just feel bad keeping this a secret from him." You turn around to be face to face with Steven. "It's been months of sneaking around. I'm always nervous we'll get caught together or I'll blurt it out to him."

"Then why don't we just tell him?"

"Do you want to die! Steven, honestly, do you have a death wish?"

"No, but—"

"Then we can't tell my brother we're together. He'll murder you, and then probably me one he finds out how long I've been lying to him," you say and move your head in the crook of Steven's neck.

"Then we can be together in the afterlife!" Steven folds his arms around you even tighter. "Seriously though, we can't lie to him forever. We've been together for six months already, surely he'll see how much we care about each other and not want to kill us."

"Yeah, maybe," you say halfheartedly and close your eyes, finally letting yourself fall asleep.

The next night, Guns has a gig at the Whiskey A-Go Go. The ritual goes like it has been, they play the gig, you wait for Will to get drunk, and you and Steven sneak out to the back of the club to make out and maybe get felt up a bit before returning like nothing happened.

It isn't different this time. Steven's hands leave your skin ablaze as he lets them wander down your sides and up your thighs. His lips don't leave yours, even as he squeezes your ass and you let out a moan. He grins on your mouth and presses his pelvis up to your stomach.

His mouth leaves yours to press feather light kisses to your cheek before trailing down your jaw and onto your neck, where he sucks nips at. You have to press a hand to your mouth to stay quiet.

"Don't leave marks," you remind him through batted breath.

"I won't," he reassures and silences you with a chaste kiss to your swollen lips before returning his attack on your neck.

You hear footsteps fast approaching, but as quickly as you hear them, Steven is ripped away from you. He's slammed into the brick wall next to you harshly and groans. You jump away and gasp.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" William asks, his voice lower than usual. His green eyes dark and downright scary.

"Will! Let him go, come on. Stop fucking around, you didn't have to slam him into a wall," you say, but your shaky voice falls on deaf ears as Will doesn't move. Your hands grasp at his arm and try to yank him away from Steven, but he's stronger and taller than you and doesn't budge, he just keeps his eyes focused on Steven.

"Nothing!" He squeaks out. Even in the dark, his kiss bruised lips and flushed red face is obvious.

"'Nothing?' That's why you were ten seconds away from fucking Y/N?" Will asks.

"William stop it! You're scaring me! Leave him alone!" You push him again and this time, he relents. Will paces and runs his hand through his red locks while you rush to make sure Steven is ok.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," Steven mutters and presses a kiss to your brow to comfort you, sending you a smile when he pulls away. He keeps his hands on your arms and rubs circles with his thumbs.

"How long has this been going on?" Will asks, crossing his arms as he finally stops his pacing.

"Six months..." Steven says nervously. William scoffs and shakes his head. "But it isn't just fucking around! I love them, Ax. Really."

You smile bashfully, biting your lip to try and contain it. You knew you felt strongly for Steven and that he returned the feelings, but you haven't outright said you loved each other— until know of course.

Will stays silent for a few beats, staring contemplative at Steven. He finally sighs, bring a hand up to rub his temples like he has a building headache.

"Yeah? And you love him, Y/N?" He asks. You nod, reaching out to grab Steven's hand. Steven lets a grin creep on to his face. "Then I guess I can't stop you. But if you ever break their heart, I'll fucking gut you, Adler."

If Will makes Steven nervous, he doesn't show it. He gives him a salute with his puppy dog like smile before sticking out his pinky.

"I promise I'll never hurt Y/N purposely, ever." Will rolls his eyes, the irony makes him nearly groan aloud. He sucks it up anyway when he sees your hopeful expression, hooking his pinky onto Steven's.

"Don't make me regret this, Steven," Will grumbles before leaving and walking back into the crowded club. Steven lets out an exhilarated laugh and kisses you, hard.

"Told you he wouldn't kill me!" Steven exclaims, making you laugh out of surprise.

"And we don't have to sneak around anymore!" Steven kisses you again, and again and again until you're breathless.

"I'm so in love with you," he mumbles between his attack on your lips. You smile, tangling your hands in his aqua-net filled hair.

"As I am with you."

[starshipsofstarlord]

Jim and Jody - Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary; it was one of the biggest decisions of your life, but will you change your mind before your future is sealed?

Warnings; angst, mentions of abortion (everyone is permitted to do what they want with their body, in this imagine the reader wants to keep the baby, but pro choice, as everyone deserves control over their bodies and all 🤍), brief mention of sex and threats

Masterlist Link

To see him so relaxed, so completely and utterly himself was a paradise all on its own. There was a heaviness aboard your shoulders, but as you watched him goof tirelessly about, you had no other concerns, not even as you subconsciously raised your hand over your stomach. You shook your head at the sentiment, the two of you had already made the decision to abort this child, it was unknown how the poor fellow would turn out to be; with the combination of your powers and his super everything, it was sure to be quite the complication, and not one that you supposed was to be an easy course.

A smile pried at your face, simply from viewing him with the pack of children, the wind from the docks swept your hair into your face, and in turn, you swept the locks out and away from your vision, so that you had further access to watch the man that you loved in his absolute element. Through the years, past and recent, he had lost so much, and this child was just to be another mantle on the wall of memorial in his mind, it was sad really. If the two of you were normal, with average and lives that had perceptions with no regards of being heroic, there’d be no query about it, you’d keep the baby.

That life though, to your grave misfortune, did not exist, it was merely a fantasy living painfully inside of your mind, haunting you whenever you closed your eyes, with the flashing images of a resolution and end to the errors in your lifestyle. There’d be a big house, yet nothing to prissy, just enough room for the pair of you and few children of your own, a grand garden with a swing set and sand pit, where the infants could grow up and play in once they were older. Then there’d also be a shed for Bucky to work on small projects, such as attaining some love and care to his motor bike, as well as storing the supplies that he’d need to do so.

All that is a universe away, muffled from possibility by the stars expediting through the gorgeous veil of the galaxy, corrupting the possibilities of ever gaining access to such... peace. That was the one thing that the pair of you wanted, however catching a break was rather rare within your predicament. A stifled laugh reeled from the conjunction of your lips as you simply and endearingly surveyed how the boys, specifically Sam’s nephews hung from the vibranium branch of his arm. It was all your attention was focused on, until an extra person took a seat on the picnic table beside you, his sweet yet musky scent detailing whom it was. “If your not going to eat that, I’m sure Barnes Junior might want an opinion on that.”

The underlining of the words caused an abstract grimace to forlorn your features, as you stared not at the speaker of whom you were close with, but instead the slather of cake that was planted on a paper plate before you, the icing beginning to become slightly sick from the beating of the viable son. “You’re glowing, you know? Motherhood is a good look on you y/n/n, I wouldn’t be so soon to let that go.” Your fingers pried at the dismantled crumbs off your section of desert as you looked to your new captain, a resonating conformation fo bridled suffering and hopelessness clouding your view of his attempt at making you atone before you made a sin that you’d forever regret.

He, like many others, knew that the family life was what you wanted; you wanted to be your child’s hero, tending to their each necessary (and unnecessary) need, them being your main focus and project and life. Instead, you had been handed your options on a short stick, and thus, your decision, albeit somewhat of a sensible one, didn’t make it hurt any less. “Sam.” You spoke his name, observing from the corner of your eye how Bucky paraded around the dock with Jim and Jody. It’d be nice to give him a slice of this kinda life, he was thriving as an adult around children, you could only imagine him in the case of this one being birthed into the world. “It’s not that easy.”

“No one said it was going to be easy.” Sam responded quickly, affirming your fears to your nerve wrecked face. “I get it, I do. People will be after this kid, and that is no way to live, but you two aren’t alone in any of this, nor will you be in that. You have me, along with many other old friends of ours, hell even the Wakandan’s. Do you really want to sacrifice this one life so you can continue living this one? You and Bucky have both lost so much, you don’t have to force yourself to willingly give away something else. The decision can be changed the last minute, it’s a lot to take in, I get that, but I see the way Buck is with my nephews, and how you watch them when you think nobody’s looking over at you. With your state pardon, you two can retire, and go far away, and abandon everything for this one little guy or gal, because I know that if you do, no matter what, they’ll be worth it.”

Bucky wailed a warrior’s shout as Jim and Jody playfully struck him down, his unsheathed metal hand grasping at the cloth that was tightly aboard his addictive chest. He rolled on the ground as the children ran to retrieve their toy lightsabers, leaving him to be expendable against their weapons. There was a giddy and fitting smile smouldering his usual stoic expression. It was no wander why he found calm in visiting Sam and his sister’s small, and accepting family. The kids brought out another side of him, which he had been tortured to refrain from showing, but you had seen, and were contemplating many things within your mind. You were lapping up the image, as though you were dehydrated and the sight of him appeased by the company of young ones was a source of water.

Sam was right, he always was and had been. “The decision was on both of our parts, you don’t think Buck’ll change his mind, or do you?” You were invested in getting a responsive answer, yet the man spluttered a laugh at your confused expense. He heaved for a moment, bracing his hands on his knees as he caught his breath. There was nothing stopping him from gaining it back, unlike Bucky whom had grabbed a saber of his own and lightly began to paddle against the one that was directed against him, other than another round of hysterics that abandoned him. A reasonable smile resonated a comfortable position upon the former falcon’s face, as he tentatively patted your knee, watching as you broke off a small rupture of cake and popped it in your mouth, feeding not only yourself but the inmate within your womb.

“There isn’t really much for me to say, it’s easy, look at him. He will be fine with whatever decision that the pair of you succumb to, after all, it’s your body, but it will pain him like nothing else ever has if you go through with the abortion, and if not, then trust me, we’ve both seen how hard he fights; think of that but ten times the mass in consideration of this baby, because I am certain that he’d do anything for them. He lost his entire family when he awoke from his mode of hydra assassin, this could be him getting it back. Different members, but a family all the same.” He stole a little of your cake, making you lightly elbow him as a smirk rendered a beauty upon his face.

“What’s that going to make you, the patriotic uncle who just can’t keep himself from flashing his shield?” Now it was his turn to retaliate, he lightly scuffed your ankle with a feather light tap of the toe of his shoe, causing you to promiscuously roll your eyes. “I’m joking, that was Steve’s aesthetic, this new version of cap is your baby, I have great faith in you to make this world a better and safer place. The funny thing is, when you finally accepted that shield was yours, that’s when my mind shifted to the possibility of keeping this kid. It was and has always been a sign of hope and protection to Bucky, maybe it could be the same for our little one. It was just a thought, I’m not meaning to put pressure on your or anything bu-“

“I get it, and I’m honoured. And if that is how it seems, then I want you to know that I’ll be there to protect them too. The main bump in the road for now is for you to talk to that grumpy ass boyfriend of yours and figure this sperm plus egg equation out, send Jim and Jody over here, I got somethin’ to show those two anyway.” With a nod and a grateful pat upon your friend’s head, you slowly plodded over to where Bucky was being cornered against the side of the truck by the boys. His blue orbs danced around their small and imaginative beings, until they landed on you, it was as though his pupils were calling out for help, begging for you to spare some mercy upon him.

“Jim, Jody, your uncle Sammy has something for you two to see.” They groaned lightly, having been pulled away from the narrative of their play time, but nevertheless their faces were clean slates as they expressed hyper smiles, and bolted their route towards their mother’s sibling, carrying their lightsaber replicas along with them. “Two kids beat an infamous, deadly badass with a metal arm. I think you might be getting too old for these kinda battles Buck, you were losing, and quite terribly if I say so myself.” Crossing your arms, as he came to an upright stand, hoisting himself off the ground, so that he could be more level with you.

“Yeah, yeah, rub it in. Thought you were supposed to be supportive of me and all that, as you said to Zemo, you’d quite happily cut his dick off if he compared me to the shadow that I used to be.” His brow raised, as he reminisced on the thought of you threatening Zemo; it was hot, and certainly had gotten him going, which had shortly left you in this predicament, trying to save the world and execute the one last thing that exhumed hope to either one of you. The baby. It was almost a certain and solid fact that the little one inside of you had been procreated on the Baron’s private jet, more specifically, the small and clean bathroom that had became dirty with your primal sins.

“And I still regret not doing that, he’d have had much less leverage in any sense of the word of phallic if he had it sectioned off.” Silence emitted between the two of you, although a humoured smirk tantalised upon Bucky’s graceful face. For a change, he was not prompting the expression of a grumpy cat that was refused its nip, no, instead he could be compared to a future - actually, he already was a father to the bean held in the shield of your body, having been an ample ingredient in bringing the small person into being. “So, you having fun with Sarah’s kids, sure looks like you were quite in your element before I cut in.”

“I’m always in my element when you’re around doll.” He smiled, wrapping his uncoordinated hands around the oval of your waist, and tugging you sentimentally closer, your hips bumped with his, as your eyes ogled infatuatedly up at him. “They’re great kids, makes me realise exactly what we’re gonna be missing out on.” Bucky gulped, sparks of emotion taunted the behind of his eyes, like saucers of resentful fire. “You’d be the perfect mother, you know that right? After all you’ve done for me, you’ve nurtured me close to the man that I once was, the only difference is that I want to settle, but I don’t know how to go about dropping everything. This kid is killing me, he’s making me question everything.”

“That’s what kids are supposed to do, unborn, or very much avidly attacking grown men with false lightsabers.” Bucky deeply into your frustrated and corresponding eyes, your hands reaching up to play defiantly with the smooth dip in his chin that could be seen through the shading of his light stubble. “What if we did have a Jim and Jody of our own some day? We could keep him or her, they’d be our greatest concern, we don’t have to go down this painful and longing, rusted road. We could bring something good into this world, protect them against all forces that threaten to disrupt their life, I want this with you Bucky. We could move far far away, or go somewhere close to home.”

“Brooklyn.” He stated, causing a line to crease gently in the plain of his forehead. “I want to call them Brooklyn, if I am to fight the rest of my life for something, I want it to be my home. Last time I had to leave there, but it’s my amends to never leave this child of ours, if we’re going to do this, we need to put them in front of everything, and I mean everything.” He spoke, in reference to the other avengers and other aliases that you had stood by for so long. Bleakly you nodded, grasping his jaw down for an amorous kiss, humming against the palette of his lips, as your hands entwined behind his neck, pulling his face closer to your own, prompting his tongue to travel deeper within the realm of your mouth.

“Brooklyn is a nice name. How about Brooklyn Margaret Barnes? I think that has quite the ring to it.” You offered, and he hardly reacted, instead quickly appraising a pleasant smile onto the canvas of his work of art face, as he ducked his head down, conjoining the pair of you into a passionate and meaningful collide of your lips. Sam smiled as he watched the pair of you, pointing at you two from afar, as his nephews from afar. He was giving them a man to men talk, offering them advice that they would have valuable usage of in the future.

“Now that is love. You don’t give up for the one thing that connects you, and those two, well Bucky and y/n have been through a hell of a lot. They deserve this, and when you meet a woman when you’re older, and your mum is watching on towards the two of you, I want you to make her proud by treating your girl like a princess, willing to sacrifice everything simply to create the future that she wishes for you.” He emotionally wiped his eyes, rushing to stand before he grasped a lightsaber, leaving the other to spare for one of them. “Now Jim and Jody, which one of you will be my padawan?”

[writingtoforgetreality]

Forever & Always An Outsider (Cordell Walker x Daughter!Reader)

[Walker-Masterlist]

Summary: Your dad came back. Finally. But what would he do if he found out how you had been treated? That his family failed to accept your rightful place with them. Your life needed change before you were too far gone.

Words: 2,495

Warnings: language, angst, feels, suffering in silence, losing yourself, most of the Walkers are assholes (I love the actors & their characters, this is just fiction!), I’m incredibly proud of this one (pls tell me what y’all think - requests for Walker & more are open!), (Y/A) = your age, (Y/E/C) = your eye color

If you like my work & wanna support me: a coffee would be highly appreciated ❤

You were (Y/N) Walker. Through & through. Worthy of that last name. Emily not being your biological mother should not matter, right? It was her who raised you with Cordell. It was her who tucked you in at night. It was her who was there when you woke up in the middle of the night, screaming, because nightmares invaded your peaceful slumber. It was her who you called mom. So why the hell were you different? Why were you not treated the same way Stella & Augie were?

It was not your decision to be the child of one of Cordell’s one night stands. Neither was it your decision to be abandoned by the same woman who had carried you inside of her body for nine months. And it sure as hell was not your decision to be laid at the front porch of the Walker property. A note the only explanation who you were & why you were brought here in the middle of the night. A paternity test later & it was confirmed. You were Cordell’s daughter. Not even once did Emily think any less of you. The same thing for Cordell. Because you were their daughter. Fully. You were their child, as much as Stella & August were. You cried when you received the news of your mother’s passing. Just as much as the rest of the family. Cordell’s decision to leave was just as hard for you as it was for everyone else.

Daily calls had been left unanswered. Who could you possibly talk to if not your dad? Who would listen to your complaints, your pain, your grief, if not him? The years growing up had never been easy for you, there was no denying that. Yet, the second you were left alone with Cordell’s parents & your siblings, your life turned into living hell for you. It had never been kept secret that you were not Emily’s biological child. From early on, the both of them tried to explain your situation to you so you did not feel like they were keeping important information from you. Acceptance was what you needed. But it also was what you did not get. As a kid, of course you would never mention being treated differently. After all, it was your normal. It was something you got used to. Your parents seemed oblivious to the dirty glances that your grandparents threw your way. They did not notice that they spent more time with your siblings. Growing up in such a household, where support was only partly given, changed you as you got older. You were (Y/A) years old now. Old enough that the realization had kicked in. The reason why they treated you like an outsider was simple. Because you were one. An outsider.

You could not hide the disappointment you felt towards your dad when he returned. He left you. During a time where it felt like your head was underwater. Where you felt like you were drowning. And everybody watching you did not lift a finger to help you out of the dark & endless water surrounding your weak & broken body. No. They were busy dealing with everything on their own. Leaving you out entirely. Your dad was back. Finally. And as much as you hated him for leaving, your relief was bigger than the negativity that had been eating inside of you. Again, a person you connected to on a deeper level was with you. The only soul who accepted you. As you were. No friendships ever ended working out. The relationship with the rest of your family did not need any more discussing.

All those months of you keeping to yourself did not change a single thing. Your voice had only been used when someone had explicitly directed their words at you. Why bother talking to them? The only thing you had ever received was weird look after weird look. Hell, you had months alone to grieve. The hours you had spent crying in your room, all alone in the middle of the night, had not helped dealing with your loss. It was true, you were not the only one in this family who had lost someone. The difference was that you were the only one who had been left alone. Because the moment Cordell left, your support system went with him. The one thing you had never learned was being alone & staying alive.

An unnatural feeling was inside your home the day your dad arrived here. If you took a sharp knife, you could cut the tension precisely. But Cordell tried. His efforts did not go unnoticed by you. A small smile, a simple touch. Your way of acknowledging his attempts. The change in your family was noticeable. Connecting with his parents, with Stella & Augie, was not easy. Not at all. You, on the other hand, you were a changed person entirely. Not the funny, joyful girl you had once been. More like a closed book, encrypted with a lock. The key long gone, getting rusty at the bottom of a deep, lurid river.

Conversations over dinner were held briefly. Your dad being the only one to start them by things he remembered you guys liked. The burning need inside of you to talk to him was pushed down further. The looks you would receive were not really what you anticipated. But nobody knew. The silent battle you had been fighting for the last months had been ignored. Had your dad been here, he would have noticed something was off. Right away. A look in your (Y/E/C) eyes was all it took. But that was the past. This person had died a long time ago. Worrying was all that could be done for the time being. If you were to talk, you would come to him yourself. No need for him to force you into a situation you were highly uncomfortable in.

The bags under your eyes were present. The light in your eyes completely gone. Like the last ounce of strength had been sucked out of your body. Your clothes did not fit the way they used to. Loose hoodies, even looser pants. Your form slowly disappearing. Not only feeling like you were unseen, but actually becoming invisible. There was not a single moment of the day where you were fully awake. You had not been sleeping much. Something your dad could relate to. Most nights, he spent in company with a bottle of whiskey. The only friend to numb the pain for a little while. Alcohol was not your solution. Did not mean that yours was any healthier.

It had become a routine for you. Waiting until the house was sound asleep. Your mind the only one being awake. Your thoughts the only ones running miles & miles per hour. Eventually, you always found yourself seated outside, on top of the roof. Being a bit closer to the stars aligning the night sky. Being a bit closer to her. Others might find it silly. You talking into the night, waiting for some echo of the past. Waiting for a sign that she heard you. Your complaints. Your pain. Your grief. Your love. Spending hours crying. Begging for her to make it stop. Begging for them to love you the way she used to.

The cold breeze hit your exposed skin. A sign that your body still reacted to certain things. Texas nights were chilly. A nice contrary to the heat that dragged itself through most days. A hoodie would do. Some sweatpants. But you needed the goosebumps. Needed them to remind you that you were still here. Still breathing. You owed it to your mom. To keep fighting. Because she did not have the chance to anymore. Tears were threatening to escape your glossy eyes. You would not let them fall. Deep down, you knew she would want you to be strong. Not to cry over her. Because of her. But it was so hard. Each day, the weight got heavier. Each day, you lost yourself a bit more. There was only so much a single person could take. To you, it felt like the limit was almost reached. Soon, you would overflow. Who knew what would happen if you let it get that far?

“Your mom used to love that place.” a soft but deep voice interrupted the peaceful silence that encircled your body. Looking over your shoulder to find your dad standing only mere feet away from you.

“Really?” the pain could be heard through your small voice. Broad shoulders touched yours.

“She was up here when she needed time to think.” elbows propped up on his knees. You could brush him off. Pretending to be fine. Explaining that fresh air was all you needed. That you would head inside in a minute. Truthfully, you did not want to do any of this. The fight had been going on for too long. You were close to losing it. This was a sign that, maybe, you were not yet at the end. That, maybe, there was still enough time to get up & start anew. Talking alone felt like too much effort. It required too much strength. Strength that you did not have. Not anymore.

“Something happened to you while I was gone.” the statement left a tension between you. “I feel like I don’t even know you anymore.” his eyes took in your side profile. You did not dare to look at him. It meant risking to break into tears. The tears you had been holding in for so long.

“I don’t even know myself anymore.” as a father, hearing your child say such words, it broke his heart. Into a million pieces. The universe did not give him a break. First Emily. Now you. Yes, you were alive. But watching you disappear right in front of his eyes hurt just as much.

“Talk to me.” his words were not an order. If you wanted to, you could up & leave. Right this instant. Something told you to stay. He was here, after all. Your dad. And he cared enough to look out for you. More than the others had done these past few months.

“I always wondered if mom & you noticed.” your eyes were focused on a branch that wavered in the far distance. The leaves pushed from one side to the other, controlled by the wind. There was no interruption. If you needed to get something off your chest, then the most Cordell could do was listen. Making you feel as if you were not alone. As if he was not leaving you. Not again. Because he was not.

“Grandma & grandpa have never looked at me the way they look at Stella. At Augie. To them, I was never their grandchild. I was just there. I was never an equal. And I was fine with it, you know? Because I had mom. I had you. And that was all the support I needed. Then mom died. And you left. And suddenly, it felt like there was nobody I could talk to. Nobody who could hug me to make me feel at least a tiny bit better. They were this tight-knit group. And I was alone.” the steadiness, the monotony in your voice was scary. To you, it had been your normal for the longest time. Cordell knew that it was partly his fault. Leaving you during one of the hardest times in your life was plainly wrong. No apology could ever bring back the time you had lost.

“I’m sorry.” it was not much. Definitely not enough. Definitely not what you deserved. Yet, it was all that could be given to you in this moment. A strong, muscular arm wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you closer to his warm body. The heat of his form immediately transferring to your skin. His embrace was a safe haven. His cologne so familiar. You had missed him. So much. Only when he touched you were you overwhelmed by every single emotion you had ignored for the last couple of months. Silent tears made their way down your cheeks, leaving a salty taste at the corners of your mouth.

“It’s fine.” one thing had not changed. Always making sure that others would not worry about you. People knew you for your fierce & strong personality. It was not too late to get the old you back. With much work, much love & support, you could change for the better again.

“It’s not.” Cordell knew you were one to carry everything on your own. That trait was given to you from him. He recalled how Emily had mentioned it when you were a small child. The one thing you always did was putting others first, forgetting about yourself in the process. That was something the both of you had to work on. Something the both of you needed to improve. The start would make him talking to the rest of the family. Now that he knew about your daily struggles, he made it his job to do everything to change it. For your sake. Because that was what Emily would have wanted. It was what he wanted for you. All of your years, you had been nothing but kind & loving towards his parents, Stella & August. The kindness you shared with them was not necessary. You had been treated wrongly for years & Cordell blamed himself for being too blind to see clearly.

Again, silence enveloped you & neither of you talked. It was comforting. Him being back. Him wanting to help. He hugged you close to him. Squeezing your shoulders every now & then. A simple sign of letting you know that he was still here. With you.

“I’ll talk to them.” if it were not for the night to be so calm, you would have missed his words entirely. “I’ll make this right.” this was a silent promise. A promise that he would stay. A promise that you no longer had to keep your grief locked inside. A promise that your family would be just that. A family. A family who treated each other equally. Loved each other endlessly. Supported each other whenever it was possible. Maybe it was the scene you found yourself in. The almost black night sky, illuminated by the moon, by thousands of little stars. Showing you that there were a million small reasons for a light in a mass of darkness. Bits & pieces of hope. Maybe this was your sign. The sign you had waited for every night. The sign from your mom. Telling you that it was worth fighting for. Worth fighting for the little things. Because each of those were beautiful in their own way. Each of those deserved appreciation. Each of those could brighten up the dark life you found yourself in. And light was all you needed right now.

Published (03/26/2021) by Cathy

Tags: @fofisstilinski, @geekgirl007, @spnwoman, @acklessnackles, @the-soul-witch, @multifandomlover121, @missmaam123, @delicatecelebritiesarthairdo (thanks for your support <3/sorry if I mistakenly tagged you, please let me know if I did)

[moral-turpitudes]

Burnt Toast:

Trigger Warnings: Swearing, Angst.

Word Count: 4,226

Characters: Polly Gray + The Shelby Siblings x Shelby!Sister Reader

Requested: Yes

Requested by: @atjafshelby​, I hope you like it love!

Summary: After seeing her family turn to a life of crime, one incident causes Y/N to finally leave Small Heath in a desperate attempt to rid herself of the Shelby name. But when the family makes a sudden appearance after years of no contact, she soon realizes she’s not the only one with news to bear.

“Kids! Breakfast is ready!” Shouted Y/N from the kitchen, the smell of toast and crackling bacon snaking it’s way through the two story town house in the middle of suburban Manhattan. The sight of the meal reminding her of home when she’d help cook, practicing her craft until she rarely made burnt toast. The voice of her aunt telling her how long to toast it so it would be perfect, even if the family eating it was far from so.

As she prepared the table, the scurrying of little feet pattering away on the floorboards filled the room as they sprinted down the lavish hall. Giggles erupting as two bright eyed girls climbed into their seats.

“Now girls, you both have to get ready quickly today alright? I have some errands to run.” Y/N said, placing a mug of coffee in front of herself. Heavy footsteps came trotting down the stairs as her husband, a man of status in the banking industry, waltzed into the room.

“Morning love. I have to go in early today. Are you sure you and the girls are okay?” He asked, adjusting his tie.

“Yes, I’m going to take them with me. I have some...personal matters to attend to.” She said, her tone dropping slightly as the girls played with their food.

“I know plenty of children back home who’d love to eat what you’re playing with, now stop it...” She said sternly, memories of her mother swatting her hand when she’d go to eat with her fingers instead of the silverware.

“Is it your family again?” He asked, brushing a stray hair from her face as he sat down next to her.

“Yes.” She said, taking a sip of her coffee as her hands shook, the anxiety of ever seeing them again gnawing at her brain.

It seemed like only yesterday that it happened. Her younger brothers running out of the old shop in Small Heath to go on a another mission after their fathers business had been left on their shoulders after the war. The sight later that night making her swear off violence all-together.

Her younger brothers had a knack for messing with the wrong people, even before the war changed them. John was the feisty one, always rough-housing with the boys and bullies on the streets, always pestering her and Ada as they chased rats through town. “I’m trying to help you defend yourself sis! Don’t be such a baby!” He’d say after tackling her to the ground where she’d cry and hesitate to fight back, Ada always punching him in the shoulder to stop as their aunt Polly would come running out of the house with the Devil in her eyes.

“You’re too sweet for your own good, Y/N. Too sweet to be a Shelby.” Polly would say while bandaging any cuts or scrapes.

“You sure as hell didn’t get it from your father...” She’d say, looking at the oldest Shelby girl with a mixture of awe and pity. Y/N resembled her mother more often than not, her temper only shining through in certain situations. But she never thought she’d lose it like she did that night.

It was the night of her first real date, Polly helping brush her hair as she flipped through an old book she’d found in their house.

"That Tommy’s?” Polly would ask, looking at the cover to see a horse running wild in a field.

“Yeah.” She’d say, wishing she could be free like the horse.

“Where are you meeting this young man, Y/N?” Polly asked after a moment of silence.

“The pub down the road.” She said shortly. She remembered Polly’s grip on her hair tightening at the mention of it.

“Ow! What is it?” She asked yanking herself free and turning to look at her aunt.

“D-don’t go. Please don’t.” She said, a fearful look in her eyes.

“Why? Arthur, Tommy, and John get to go anywhere in town and I can’t?!” She said, angrily putting her hair up herself and adjusting her dress.

“It’s not safe...” Polly said, walking down the hall.

“Right...so you want to lecture me on what’s safe because I’m so nice aye? What do you fucking see in me anyway?” She asked loudly. She never really raised her voice to Polly, fearing her to a slight degree. But as her younger brothers went out on business more often, she was practically shoved away, only being able to see Ada and Finn even though she was the oldest.

Polly’s eyes welled up with tears as she spoke.

“I see hope for this god-forsaken family. You have more control over yourself than I care to admit and I can’t bare to see you squander it all away by becoming one of them. You should live for yourself, at least then one of us in this family would be doing something good for a change.” She said, sauntering off into the kitchen.

“Tommy’s planning something isn’t he? That’s why you don’t want me to go on the date.” She said, following her into the kitchen with tears in her eyes. Even if she was older than Arthur by two years, he and the rest of them never stopped being over-protective.

“Yes.” Was all Polly said before Y/N ran out the door. If she wanted her to live for herself then she was going to do as she pleased. She was tired of being seen as some family secret, some mystery sibling that was different. She never liked the violence she grew up in but was that such a crime? To know how to not hurt people? To be able to know when to call it quits? These were thoughts she still struggled with as she looked at her two little girls getting up from the table and racing up the stairs. Their hair wild and smiles a mile long. Carefree like she always dreamed of being, and like most of her aunts family always claimed to be.

“I want you girls ready in 10 minutes!” Y/N yelled as the girls moved about upstairs, her husbands voice breaking her from her thoughts.

“Well I’m off love. I’ll see you all at my lunch break.” He said, kissing her goodbye and heading off to his ordinary job. Despite him being successful and full of money himself, she couldn’t shake the fact that they led very different lives before they met. He’d go off to college while she stayed and helped Polly with Finn, and Ada occasionally staying to help as she was always wanting to be out and about. While he grew up with a silver spoon, she grew up with rusted broken ones. She couldn’t for the life her know why he chose her, maybe it was luck? But nevertheless they worked out together and she was grateful no matter how many times her past haunted her.

As she cleaned up the kitchen, she fell back onto the memories from years ago. Her heart still aching like it was yesterday.

Remembering herself sprinting towards the pub where her new date had agreed to meet her, seeing a rowdy group of men near the entrance. The sharp sound of bottles breaking and slurs being spewed as she warily made her way over. Her eyes landed on her date and her stomach dropped. Arthur was holding him by the neck as Tommy pulled off his cap, slashing the mans face open in one fell swoop.

Y/N’s screams soon pierced the air as she saw him fall limp to the ground, Tommy finishing him off with a harsh twist of his neck.

The blinders all looked up to see their older sister just mere feet away from their mess. Without thinking, she ran over to the man she had grown to know, his face almost unrecognizable after what they’d done to him. As she cradled him, her eyes blurred with tears as her brothers stood in silence, the rain washing the mans blood off Tommy and Arthur’s hands as they waited for her to speak.

“Tommy...” She said, seeing red as she started at the man she once knew, lying dead on the cold pavement.

Her brother walked over, a tired look in his eyes as he crouched down to her level and put his cap back on.

“We had to do it Y/N...” He said, trying to reach for her hand.

Without warning she slapped him across the face with all the strength she could muster. Her hand stinging with the impact.

Polly came running in the distance, stopping near John who’d been holding his rifle as he sat against the wall of the pub.

As she got up, she wiped the blood on her clothes as she stared down her brother. A red handprint forming on his cheek as she neared him. With one hand she took his arm and with the other she grabbed Arthur’s hand, leading them near Polly and John.

“I knew him you know. How was he so bad that you had to kill him? Why was this part of your fucking plan?!” She yelled as they all looked at her with sorry expressions.

“He was working with Kimber’s men. Remember him?” John asked.

She got closer to John as she spoke, her arms folded in frustration.

“No John. I don’t remember. I wasn’t part of the family meetings...remember that?” She asked, knowing they always kept her, Ada, and little Finn in the dark ‘for their safety.’

“He was bad Y/N...” Tommy said, sticking a cigarette in his mouth.

“Like you all are any better. You didn’t even know him!” She shouted.

“Y/N love, please calm down. We had leads on him. He was trying to get with ya in order to get to us.” Arthur said.

“No...he wouldn’t.” She said, shaking her head as her tears fell.

“He did. Not everyone has a good heart like yours alright?” Tommy said, lighting a cigarette.

“You know what? Fuck the lot of you!” She yelled, her eyes boring into Tommy’s specifically.

“I can’t even look at you all anymore. You took away my one shot at meeting someone that wasn’t associated with this family and you all ruined it. You all ruined everything I’ve ever tried to do and here I am, the oldest fucking Shelby and I can’t even leave me own house.” She said, giving a side eye to Polly. As she spoke she remembered her aunts words, her eyes tearing up as she spat out her frantic goodbyes.

“You know what? I’m listening to what you said Pol. I’m going to go live for myself and I don’t want any of you to come for me. I can’t stand to be around any of ya. Goodbye.” She said, walking through the familiar dark streets for what felt like the last time.

“Mum? We’re ready!” She heard her oldest yell from the front door, ripping her from her thoughts.

“Alright, c’mere you.” She said, swooping her youngest up in her arms and walking out the door. As she walked with her oldest hand in hand they noticed the rain falling slightly as the city life bustled around them.

“I wish daddy didn’t take the car. He’ll be at his lunch break before we get there.” The oldest girl said, her white dress flowing in the wind.

“We’re going right up to the bank. He’ll be there. I promise.” She said, her nerves getting to her as they entered the tall building.

“I got a call about a check being sent from Polly Gray?” She asked the teller.

“Ah yes! Here you are. She also left a note.” She said, handing her the envelope.

Y/N’s eyes widened at the figures on the check, having to clutch the desk for support.

“Jesus fucking christ.” She said quietly.

“Jesus fuckin cwist!” Her youngest mumbled excitedly.

“Hey! We don’t say that.” She said smirking down at the little girl.

“Darling! Didn’t expect you to be here so early!” Her husband said as he stepped out of his office.

“This was uh...one of the errands. Can we go outside for a moment?” She asked.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, looking at her with concern.

“Oh um...it seems me aunt gave us a check for...$100,000.” She said.

“My god...you’re kidding. How did they get that kind of money?�� He asked, even though they were well-off in New York it was still a shock, especially since the shop back home was far from successful all those years ago.

“Oh...you don’t want to know.” She said, her eyes scanning over the letter.

“Dear Y/N,

I know you don’t want to hear from any of us especially after so long, but we wanted to let you know we’re planning a visit to New York. We have some business to take care of and Tommy saw it best to come there personally. We’d love to meet up upon our arrival if you’d like. We have some unfortunate matters we’d like to discuss. In the meantime though, I wanted to gift you this check, seeing as we’ve come into more than enough good fortune over the years.

With love,

Aunt Pol”

“I have to get to a phone. Watch the girls please? I’ll be back.” She said, running inside the bank.

“What’s mummy doing?” Their oldest asked.

“Calling her family.” He said, holding her hand.

“She has a family? Like us but somewhere else?” She asked.

“Yeah...” He said, not knowing much about them as well. She’d kept that part of her life a secret for a while, but she’d let a few things slip every now and then, and she always got a check from Polly despite her refusing her help, but they never got one for this much before.

“Shelby Company Limited.” The woman said over the phone.

“Yes, this is Y/N...Y/N Johnson-I mean...Shelby. Y/N Shelby....is Polly there?”

“I’m sorry miss. The family has left for America, they’re expected in New York at noon.” She said.

“Alright, thank you.” She said, her watch ticked towards noon at a fast pace, knowing they’d be arriving soon.

“Girls were taking a trip. We uh...have to meet some of my family.” She said rushing out of the bank, scooping their youngest up in her arms with the others following.

“We need to get to customs, now.” She said, hurrying towards her husbands car.

Within the next 30 minutes they’d scrambled to get there, seeing the passengers get off the ship in groups. Her heart sped up as she saw her family, more dressed up now than before, but still the same tired features give or take Finn growing up before her eyes.

“Stay here you three. It’s going to be a moment.” She said, taking a shaky breath as she walked towards them.

“Y/N? Is that you?” She heard Polly call out. She stood frozen as they walked to her, her eyes brimming with tears.

“Hello Polly.” She said with a small smile, her tears plummeting to the ground as she gave her a warm hug.

“Oi! Is that really you?! Look at ya!” Arthur said with a smile.

“Yeah it’s me. Same old Y/N.” She said, wiping her tears as her brother Tommy stared at her.

“Cat got your tongue brother?” She asked, he gave her a hug but it was half-hearted at best.

“Right...so what are you lot doing here aye? Why’d you send us all that money?” She asked looking at them, Tommy’s eyes were more dead than all those years ago. She couldn’t shake the feeling something had happened as Polly spoke.

“Can we talk about this somewhere private at least? We just got here love...” Polly said.

Y/N sighed as she turned to her little family, the ring on her finger glinting in the sun as she nodded.

“Of course...follow me. I uh, have some people I want you to meet.” She said.

“Y/N...” Polly said in a shocked whisper as she saw the two girls and her husband standing there looking at them with smiles on their faces.

“This is my husband. His name is Charles Johnson, he’s a banker in Manhattan. And these are our girls. Jane is 7, Polly is 3.” She said, picking the little girl up as she giggled and waved at them.

“You...you never told us you’d met someone. Never told us you’d gotten married...Never told us you had children...” Polly said, waving at the girls.

“Well the street goes both ways. Didn’t know you got married aye Tom...” She said nodding to him, he lit a cigarette as they walked ahead. The tension growing in the air as she nervously took her husbands hand.

“It’s complicated, but yes I did.” He said shortly, the smoke wafting through the air.

“No smoking...please.” She said, her girls looking curiously at the man with piercing blue eyes.

“You serious?” He asked.

“Yes, the girls don’t like it. You’re such a grump though love. You’ve turned into an old man, older than Arthur even. Jesus.” She said, none the wiser to what they’d all been through over the years. Tommy just nodded with a slight smirk, knowing his past couple years would’ve destroyed her.

As the Shelby’s made small talk with the little girls, Charles got them a ride to their house, the bustling city taking them a little bit by surprise.

“I don’t know how you live here. It’s hectic.” Polly said, sitting in a small armchair in their living room.

“Well you wanted me to live my life for me Pol. I came here and I loved it. Never saw a reason to move.” She said, pouring her a glass of wine.

“Anyone want a drink?” She asked as her worse-for-wear brothers sat around.

“Now there’s our sister. You got whiskey?” Arthur asked.

“Did you think I left all of Birmingham behind? Of course I do.” She said, pouring out a couple glasses and handing them out. Her husband taking one and giving her a small peck on the cheek, Tommy staring him down for a moment before she came to him with a glass.

“What kind?” Tommy asked before drinking it.

“Irish...what else would it be? You taught me that.” She said with a smirk.

“Right...” He said, fixing his golden glasses.

“So tell me, what’s life been like here? It seems...grand.” Polly said looking around the place as the girls ran around giggling.

“Jane! Polly! No running in the house...go out to the courtyard.” She said, taking a sip of her whiskey.

“You named the little one Polly? I’m touched.” She said, sipping her wine.

Y/N sighed before she spoke, her husband sitting near her on the large sofa, holding her hand as he knew she had some things to get off her chest.

“Look...I was....angry. I was angry at the world when I left and...I’ve held onto that for so long it’s eaten me up. I know you all don’t care for me now, hell I wasn’t invited to anything anyways, but I did the same. I did this for me. And I’m happy here. I’m happy with my children. I named her Polly because even though we wanted to rip each other’s throats out some days, you were the one that helped me realize who I wanted to be. You helped raise me and I couldn’t not name her after someone I loved dearly.” She said, the room falling silent.

“You want us to forgive you?” Tommy asked.

“No. Honestly Tommy I’m still trying to forgive you. It was because of you all that I watched you kill him. I moved here so you’d never take people away from me again, but no I’m not looking for forgiveness or anything, I just want it behind us.” She said finishing off her whiskey.

“That was for your protection, love. You can understand that now at least, since you have your own children now.” Polly said, clasping her hand over hers.

“I can. But I wouldn’t kill someone. That’s how we’re different. I’ve told Charles about it, because I’ve always been the nice one. He may think otherwise though.” She said smirking at her husband.

“But, I’ve tried to move on. I just want you all to know I’m happy and I’m honestly not that hurt by it anymore. I’m just plagued with the memories that’s all.” She said.

“What about back home? How’s Ada? I’m assuming she’s with her kid...Karl right?” She asked, trying to change the subject.

“Yes. She has another on the way as well. Different father. Deceased though.”

“That’s too bad, I know she’s probably torn up, the poor thing. Give her a hug for me will ya? God I haven’t seen her in so long.” She said and Polly nodded.

“What about John? Where’s the cheeky bastard at anyway?” She asked. Polly teared up as Tommy held her hand, which he never did unless it was something important.

“He....he got shot. One of the mafias with a vendetta against us got him...it was recent enough that we figured we’d come to tell you.” He said.

“No.” She said, getting up quickly.

“No...no I-I said the most hateful things the last time I saw him. He can’t be...” She said as tears poured down her face.

“Hey....shh it’s alright darling.” Her husband said attempting to comfort her as she clung to him, her tears staining his expensive suit as Arthur and the rest looked away, their hearts growing heavy after re-hashing the news.

“I’m sorry we didn’t tell you sooner. We couldn’t get to you in time for the funeral though, love.” Polly said, walking over.

“I have to sit down.” She said, her face paling as she sat on the sofa.

Her hands shook as she wiped her tears away. Polly kissed her forehead as she walked outside, observing the little girls as they played in the garden to keep from breaking down as well.

As Y/N settled down, she took another shot of whiskey, wincing at the burn of it going down. Since having her kids and working, she didn’t have as much time to drink, at least not like they did back home.

“I should’ve came back sooner...I-I should’ve written you all more often.” She said.

“Y/N that wouldn’t have changed much. We’re just happy you’re happy alright love?” Arthur said, patting her on the back.

“Yeah...” She said.

“Say...I know you all are tired. Would you all care to stay? We have enough room...” Charles asked as Polly walked in with the girls.

“Mum! Who that?” Little Polly asked in her sweet voice.

“Hello! Oh you silly girls! I hope you loved meeting Polly! These are your uncles, Arthur, Tommy, and Finn.” She said wiping her tears away as they came in, letting them walk over to them. Tommy smiled at them and put on his best kind expression, knowing how impressionable kids were.

“So uhm...Tommy do you have kids?” Y/N asked, circling back to the ring on his finger and trying to lighten the conversation.

“Yeah. I have a boy name Charlie, and a girl named Ruby. Charlie’s mum was uh...shot...by the mafia, Lizzie is well, she’s working at the office and helping with little Ruby.” He said.

“Shot! Jesus fuckin cwist!” Little Polly squealed out.

Y/N’s mouth dropped as she picked her up. Arthur and eventually everyone erupted in laughter.

“We do not say that Polly! Don’t repeat bad words!” Y/N scolded her, trying to hold back her own laugh in the process.

“I’m sorry about your first wife Tom...I’m also sorry little Polly over here has the mouth of a sailor.” She said playfully eyeing her daughter and giving her brother a pat on the shoulder.

“It’s alright love. Things happen aye?” He said, his heart still hurting after the loss, but warming at the sight of his little happy and not so nicely-mouthed nieces.

“Maybe we can visit the rest of the family sometime? I’m sure we can arrange that.” She asked looking at her husband.

“Of course! We’d um...we’d like that. Very much.” Polly said a genuine smile on her face as she watched her niece with her children.

“I’m so glad you’re doing well for yourself dear. Truly. We all are, and if we haven’t said it yet, welcome to the family Charles.” Polly said, shaking his hand.

“My offer still stands though by the way...” Charles said after a moment.

“What’s that aye?” Tommy asked, finally loosening up a bit.

“You all can stay here. You all aren’t the only ones with big houses you know. You’re family after all.” Y/N said.

“Well it’s not like we have anywhere else to go. What to do you say?” Polly asked, looking at Tommy. He smirked a bit before answering, Y/N could see the conditions he’d have with their stay floating around in his head.

“Alright...As long as we get to have the toast you always made. I’ve hired many a housemaid and none of them could make it like you do, they always burn it up.” He said.

She chuckled at the memory, always making a bunch of it in the mornings before they’d all go running off in the streets.

“Deal.” She said, giving him a small smile, knowing that even after all the years and all the losses, she knew she could never fully be away from family.