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#i feel like one of those parents being pulled in three different directions by their child leashes
pacificwaternymph · 11 months
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God trying to get Scott to talk about his emotions is like pulling teeth.
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dark-night-hero · 10 months
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Imagine being Genshin Men's the one that got away part 2 featuring Kaeya, Pantalone and Thoma.
Kaeya Alberich
Cause now I pay the price.
Imagine being used to be very close to Kaeya and Diluc, with your parents being close to their father, Crepus Ragnvindr. You have always been Diluc's friend every since the two of you were a baby. So the arrival of someone new, someone as pretty and cute and Kaeya was something that both of you were happy and excited of, a new member into te family, a new friend to get along to.
Imagine you were their friend, always hangout out with the set of brothers playing around and causing troubles here and there. The three of you were just unseperatable, and you were also slowly being aware of the feelings you were developing for him.
Imagine Diluc has always been a brother, annoying little brother you never had. And Kaeya, kaeya was different. Maybe it was the fact that you knew he wasn't biological a Ragnvindr and he looked a lot different than Diluc whom you had enough seeing his face of already, but he was different. His smiles lit up your mood, your heart races when he laughs, when he messes with your hair. It was different, you never want to see him as a brother or anything close to it.
Imagine things started to took a turn when Diluc joined the knights and you didn't, Kaeya did follow his steps a little later though. You watch side by side how Diluc becomes the youngest ever appointed Captain to be within the ranks of the Knights of Favonious. "He's awesome, isn't he." "Hmmm." This is enough, just being there by his side.
Imagine pursuing to become a merchant. The three of you going on a different paths with the two closely related to. Diluc was already busy enough tk begin with causing you and Kaeya to be hanging out by yourselves. And those nights, those nights were memorable, it was wonderful. The way he laugh, the way he looks at you, the way the two of you were looking at each other. You can feel it. You might be young, people might say both of you were young, but you knew, damn it, you knew what this is.
Imagine it was raining, it was raining when Crepus died and it was raining when two brothers parted ways with each other with you standing in the middle of it. "Stop it! You're both going to end up hurting each other!" "Did you heard what he said?! Are you deaf?! Crazy?! You heard what he said and you're still sticking on his side?!" "I am not picking anyone's side in here! What I'm trying to say it that you calm the fuck down-! Dilu-! Kaeya!" As you tried to interfere midway, you were pull by the back of your neck backwards as a bird like flame of fires came into yours and Kaeya's direction.
Imagine that night, you gain a pretty deep scar on your side, cause by the burn of your best friend as well as the intense icy frost that comes after it. Not only that, not only did you lost your childhood friend, but you also lost him, Kaeya. "I'm sorry." It was pouring hard as he kneel by your side. "I'm sorry." He spoke once again, his fingers slowly slipping away from yours. "Kaey-" "I'm sorry." Then he left.
Imagine, one of the hardest thing Kaeya ever did was to walk away from you that night, knowing what he- what the two of you coulf have been has now down the drain, and will forever remain their frozen in time.
Imagine that same night the two brothers fell out, so does everything connected to them, you. Dilic left without a word. And Kaeya started ignoring you. Maybe it was because out of guilt, maybe it's because of the things he said that night. But if there was one thing for sure is that he won't see you, he won't talk to you. No matter now much you begged, he never did. He was all that you have now, and you're pretty sure that goes the same way for him, so why is he okay? How could he be okay? Fuck it.
"They left." "I know." "I heard they might not come back." "... I know." "You're not going to see them? They're still waiting for you outside." "... No." And so you left.
Imagine, Kaeya has always been aware that there was something going on with the two of you. You were quite different after all, different when it comes to him and Diluc. And it was quite obvious to be honest. So when he started ignoring you after that night, it was strange and funny. How his heart would often ache just by you calling his name.
Imagine when you left, a part of him left with you too. You were... everything after all. It may not be obvious, but you and Diluc were his everything back then. So as years have gone by, things like his were on the back of his mind, long to be forgotten. Just like what he was always hoping to. Or so he thought.
"One glass of wine please!" He utter with a smile, one way of teasing Diluc as the red hair started serving behind the counter when the familiar bell rings indicating an incoming customer "And one beer for me." And there comes the ache again. As the two head turn, one red and one blue. "It's been awhile." They smiled, the same damn smile they always gave them.
Imagine after a long moment of silence, he manage to hold up a smile. "Back in town?" "Oh you bet! It's been so long!" "You should have given us a heads up before you came back." "Oh please, I don't want to hear that coming from you, who left without a word, Diluc." You joked, even giving Kaeya a side eye as you made fun of the other guy, just like the old times but there was something obviously different. The way you look at him...
Imagine it was a joyful yet silent night for the three of you, with Kaeya just smiling, butting in for a few times but just there by the side, it was quite uncharacteristic of him, just casually playing with the wine on his hand before it was time to go. "Well, I got to get going." "Already?" You pout, Diluc scoffing at your reaction but somehow giving Kaeya a look of concern. "Duty calls." He laughs before giving you and Diluc a playful smirk then walking out of the pub.
Imagine as soon as he did, he let out a deep sigh before walking towards the direction of the headquarters. And just like all those years back, his heart ached every steps he take. Then he stops, look back, then look up then down to his feet as he hold a hand on his mouth. The way you look at him right now. "Oh Barbatos." He suddenly laughs. "I'm late, am I?" He added.
"Kaeya!" Unlike before where no matter how much you called after him, he did not turn around. This time, he turn around to face you. "Miss me already?" "Yeah!" You laughs, and oh celestia. How wonderful that laugh sounds. "Let's grab a drink in sometime okay? When you're not so busy!" "Alright, but your treat, okay?" "Aww! Come on now!"
You were a wonderful experience even if you're never mine.
Pantalone
Can all this mora buy me a time machine, no.
Imagine growing up with Regrator on a very poor neighbourhood, basically in the streets. It was pretty much forgotten how the two of you first met but what was important is that the two of you have manage to stick together in tough times. Being young, broke, and basically has no one to take care of the two of you. The two of you only have each other to hold on and lean on into. That was the childhood of the Regrator.
Imagine, now that he is practically the richest man in Teyvat, there was no other things he couldn't buy at the same time. There was nothing that picks his interest. "What do you think, (Your name). It's such a shame that the gift I was planning to give Tsaritsa was stolen within the warehouse, though. I'm quite thankful the things I've bought for you was safe." "..."
Imagine they said that the Regrator was a man of desire, a man greedy for money for some reasons for they do not know where he have come from nor his goals. He was also quite close to the Doctor, someone almost everyone was too scared to talk into. There were a lot of things that came into mind when asked about the Regrator but if there was something obvious that no one talks about was the torn, ragged and almost faded picture on his office table not fiting for its picture frame that probably causes hundreds, no millions if not much higher cause of mora. And no one was allowed to talk about it.
Imagine, life was tough for you and the Regrator. But you manage to make it side by side. You manage to survive though that poor environment. Then he started making money, he starts finding a way to get you out of then damn place. You were there when he started a new goal. When he started pursuing his goal. Life was tough, it was but at least you have each other by your side.
Imagine, Pantalone was wise. He was greedy, but he was wise. You knew that, you knew him more than anyone else. So imagine one day as the two of you gets back to the old worn house, if you could call it a house. You felt a sharp pain on your chest. Causing you to frown and reach out a hand to massage it. "Are you okay?" "Yeah, just a little tired."
"I kept getting flashbacks nowadays." "..." "It was good- good old days, I suppose." He chuckle in contrast to the fake smiles and laughs he was giving other poeple specially in business. "I don't think I will be back anytime now, (Your name). You'll still be here when I came back, no?" "..." "I'll see you later, my treasure."
"Please... please please I'm begging you. Please treat her I- I'll make sure to pay la-" "Get out! I have no plans to treat beggars like you!" "No ple-" "Get lost!" As the door closes for the fifteenth time that night, and by the harsh impact, he ended up taking a step back that ended up with him falling backwards with you in his arms, keeping his arms around you to protect you from the fall as he could feel you burning up in his arms, quite trembling.
"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck... Just a little bit (Your name)... Just a little bit." Why does it has to be this way? Eveything was doing fine. The two of you have finally manage to save up some money to start up a business and it was doing fine. In fact you would be having your profit in days to come even though you two were quite broke right now. Why do you have to be sick right now? No wait no no, he's not blaming you. Just. Fuck. If only he has a vision, if only those so called Gods could help right now, create some miracle. FUCK!
Imagine, as a new recruit fatui member carelessly and mindlessly barge in into the office room of the Regrator. Even foolishly touching things here and there in the room, as soon as he took a lift up a book within the shelf, the shelf moved causing the newbie to gasp nevertheless as curiosity got the best of the her, she followed down the road where it leads into a small cozy room but there was something which causes her jaw to drop.
Imagine, in the corner of the room was a glass like container, which contains a doll, no. It was too realistic to be a doll. It was a person. A person who seems to be sleeping but the newbie knew really well that that was a corpse. Talking a few steps to get a closer look. She noticed that the corpse was well dressed, be it on the silk that made up the clothes, the jewellery that compliments the overall looks of it to the shoes and even the (hair color) hair that seems to the styled by the best hair artist in teyvat. It looks like tons of mora was wasted on such corpse.
"I would have understand if they were alive, in fact it would have been worth the mora if they were only alive. Is it the hobby of the Regrator to dress up such thing? Such a weird hobby." "Are you done?" "Ah sir!" As the newbie was about to turn around, she couldn't, already missing her head. "Ah ah, look at the mess you made, Dottore." "You'll make a bigger mess if you took care of it. See the blood already staining the glass of your beloved?"
Imagine Pantalone rolling his eyes at Dottore who just smirk before leaving the room. He already had enough of the thing that was about to happen, besides he just happened to have a new lab rat he just killed because a certain someone wouldn't leave him alone to make something.
"Pantalone." He felt your hand clenching around his. It was warm. "You're warm" You smile. "I wish we could stay like this forever." "The Doctor is coming... Hold on a little more, okay?" Despite the intense pain you are feeling right now was you tried to hold on into every little bit of consciousness you have left. "Pantalone..." "They're coming okay? Just a wai-" "I'm tired." You snuggle even closer to him. "I want to sleep... Can I sleep?" "No... no no no no no no." "Aww. Why?" You tried to open your eyes. Wanting to see him again for the last time. "I lived a good life." "No, I haven't given you that good life yet. Not yet, please. Please please in a moment the doct-" "Pantalone... I'm going to sleep now. Okay?" As you shut your eyes forever, never once did the doctor came.
"I'm sorry, look at how messy the room has become." He apologizes as he approaches and hold on into the glass were you were being contained and preserved. "Since no one is allowed to enter this room other than Dottore, I would have him clean up the room." He sigh before pressing his forehead on the glass. "He said it woulk take time and money to find a cure for you but don't worry. I would be willing to spend all the money in the world as long as you wake up again, okay?" "..." "I cannot wait for that day to come so for now I apologize but you have no choice but to stay asleep."
I'm sorry for leaving so early, for leaving you all on your own to face the world, I love you.
Thoma
In another life, I would make you stay.
Imagine you were his childhood friend, his best friend, his partner in crime and the list could go on for so long as the two of you basically grew up together. His father being on of the servants within your household and him being allowed to stay whenever he would come to Inazuma after the vacation of his father back in Mondstand. To Thoma, you were someone whom he knows very well. After all, you were his first master to serve before the Lord of the Kamisato in present times.
Imagine you were the heir to one of the prestigious clan within Inazuma. And as the heir comes with responsibility, the training was very harsh and strict, you could never let your guard down even for a child who should only be enjoying wonderful things in life. But you are different, those (hair color) hair and (eye color) iris that your clan seems to worship, the true appearance and characteristics of a heir they say that would only come once per generation. It was nothing but a curse to you.
Imagine growing up in a strict environment. With your younger siblings basically neglected from the parental things that one child needed, you were the one to fill in the role for them. Giving them all your free time, making sure not to let them experience the same treatment that was given to you. Basically the puppet of the elders within the clan. To be honest it was exhausting. You knew your parents loves you at the same time the way they are treating you, saying it was for the greater good was something you hate then for. And to add the neglectful treatment of your siblings, you basically becoming the parental figure to them when you yourself is lacking one. And you hate them, you hate the freedom they have that you have and probably would never got.
Imagine that is where Thoma came into. The shy but kind boy from Mondstand who came with his father one day and started interactin with you. Following you anywhere, watching you do what you're supposed to do such as train and studies. It was strange to be honest, but the more he get to know you and the more you get to know him, the more he influences you. You started smiling, laughing. Started enjoying the little things in life you never really looked into before.
"Will you be back?" You cling into the hem of his shirt as he gives you a toothy grin. "I will, little lord-" "(First name). Call me (First name)." As soon as you said that, his eyes widen, then he giggle. "Alright, (First name)." With your little hands letting go of his shirt, "Wait." "Hmm? What is it?" "What's your name." "..." "I've been playing with you for a month and you don't even know my name?" "..." "It's Thoma." "... Thoma, huh." "Yes! Don't forget that!" Although that did earn him a roll of eyes as you turn your back at him. You never forgot his name.
Imagine the more you two grew close, the more you felt freedom within him. Maybe it's because of the land where he came from, Mondstant was it? The city of Freedom as they called it. At the same time, behind the laughs and smiles you express as he comes by. Was the more hasher and strict the rules for you had become. The more you were focused to the goal of becoming the perfect heir for them, as you should have become. It was slowly ruining you, it was slowly killing you from the inside despite the smiles and freedom you have whenever you are with your sisters, but more specially with Thoma.
Imagine, on your becoming of age. Despite the celebration of the whole village, the whole manor. You're not happy. You're not happy at all. All the unwanted responsibilities, the expectations. The lack of freedom, love. Your sisters and Thoma was all you have. They were all you have left and the music that Thoma have taught you. The music that seems to have set you free. But in order to pursue that dream, you must leave. But how could you leave?
"Are you alright?" He spoke as he stand next to you who was in the middle of the hall. "Why won't I be?" "You really look like you want to leave right now." "... Want to dance?" "Right now?" "Right now. Let's go." You urge him, standing up from your seat as you hold up a hand for him to take. And he did, with a smile on his and your face, you let him guide you in the middle of the hall, causing people to move away as you move, probably confused at the same time because this is far from the custom this country has. And this, a dance was something common to his culture.
"(First name)!" It was only after the dance that you part ways with Thoma and meet up with your sister when the youngest came into you with... a lovestruck look on her face? "Who was that guy?" "Huh?" What is this sudden feeling of uneasy? You have never felt like this before. "The one you danced with! Who is he?!" She asked enthusiastically. "I have never seen him before! Who is he?" "Huh?" This time, your lips unconsciously curl up, the feeling of wanting to laugh and throw up was building up all at the same time. "(First name). Introduced me to him, please?" Huh? "Sure."
Imagine things happened fast. One moment your sister came up to you and the next moment you were introducing her to Thoma who seems to took a liking on her. Making you realise that this was in fact the first time they have meet, your sister has always been in one of the spare houses within the village and not in the main manor. On the heirs stats in their and so does Thoma, who happened to be your best friend and one of your close aide when he was on vacation to Inazuma.
"Your sister is very kind. I think... I think I may have liked her." He laughs and so did you. At the same time something inside you broke. Was it your heart? Maybe? But for the first time in your life, the urge to get away finally kicked in as if you have lost all means of any reason to stay. So that night. That night you left, you left as you have no other reason to stay with so many things waiting for you, your freedom.
Imagine how hurt, confused, and lost they all are when you left without a word. Not even a letter. But then again, everyone in your family, sisters aside seems to have moved on easily. But eventually he does too, leaving your family clan into the Kamisato, someone your other sister was once in a relationship with too and work there while being in a relationship with your youngest sister.
Imagine years after you were gone. Came back. As the main family gathered in the estate. With him standing next to your sister, all these years staying strong and engaged. His Lord, Kamisato standing rigt across him with your other sister by his side yet knowing the cold look on his face, he knew his Lord wasn't happy. Your parents currently out the room, greeting you probably who came back after long years of disappearance.
"It's... been so long... everyone." It was a voice he haven't heard for so long. A voice he have long forgotten but knows who it was if he had heard it in the middle of the crowd. And the very moment you emerge into the room. Everything seems to stop, your smile. It was brighter than ever, than those nights the two of you would sneak out to have some fun. This time, he knew you were happy. "Thoma! It's been so long! How are you."
Imagine he don't know how to reply, his heart beating wildly on his chest upon seeing you again. He without thinking, he pull you into a hug, breathing your scent he have missed for so long. Oh Archons, how much he missed you. "Hahahahahaha missed me that much Thoma?" "Oh you little- of course I do! How have you been?! Are you coming back for goo-" Mid sentence were you pulled away from him, a pair of strong arms warped around your waist pulling you away from Thoma. "Too close." Your fiance pout on your shoulder. Huh?
"Darling, behave. Don't embarrass me in front of an old friend." You giggle but doesn't break away from your lover's arms. Huh? "Oh right, Darling. This is Thoma, the one I often told you about in my childhood, the one who taught me how to play instruments? And Thoma, this is my fiance..." he couldn't hear it. But he could hear the a cracking noise from somewhere. Was it his own heart breaking? Why was it breaking? He was in love with your sister. Why is he feeling this way? Should he be feeling this way? Wh- huh?
"What are you doing here?" You spoke as you emerged from behind. It was midnight, and it was right after the banquet that everyone was supposed to sleep when you two happened to see each other from the old stop where the two of you often meet in the past to sneak out. "Can't fall asleep?" You asked and he shook his head. "Don't worry, I'm the same. Probably home sick, I'm glad that my lover was able to fall asleep easily though, probably quite nervous into meeting my family, specially upon confrontation with my parents." You chuckle and sat beside him.
Imagine the comfortable silence, or at least for you as he was drown in thoughts. Thoughts he shouldn't be having but right now, he does. "(First name)." "Yeah?" "Would you leave if I told you to stay?" "Back then? I would probably have." "I see." "But I don't think we would work out." "... What makes you think so?" "My sister was inlove with you, and you were in the process of falling for her. You know back then I would do anything for my sisters" You chuckle, looking from to the sky then on him. "Right?" And then he look away.
"I should get going." "Already?" "Yeah, my lover would be anxious not to see me by their side when they wake up." "You love them alot." "I do." You chuckle. "I do love them alot. I wouldn't come back here if I don't." You shook your head before standing up. "Don't stay up later for so long, you may catch a cold." You spoke then messes with his hair then started to walk outside. "And Thoma?" "... Yeah?" "Thank you for staying by my sister side. It's really good to see you again."
I loved you too early, and you love me too late.
[ⓒdark-night-hero] 2023°
: Fun fact, Thoma and Ayato fell for the same reader. Another fun fact, Thoma and Ayato's idea came from my fictional novel 'She was' (totally not promoting.)
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shakesthewizard · 5 months
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Now I want to know some of your polycule dynamic ideas for the bad kids???
This is a dream come true, okay walk with me
Let's start out with a couple of what I would consider fundamental pairings. In most any configuration of the group you can think of, most if not all of these are gonna be necessary for me to really get invested.
Fabriz. Duh. Need I say more.
Fabadaine. It's my fucking roman empire and I WILL go on about it for another thousand words if you ask
Figadaine. Support women's wrongs! Going shopping! My girlfriend is a rockstar and we make out backstage! My girlfriend is the elven oracle and we make out twice because she has a vision of it happening first!
I've also got some pairings that are nice on their own, but that I don't find like, mandatory if you're gonna sell me on something.
GorgugxFig. She's so loudly angry to hide her fear; he's so quietly scared of his own anger. She made him join her band and he's probably the better musician. They're so nice to each other.
FigxKristen. Fall into temptation. Make out with the devil on your shoulder. She helps you kill your god. She becomes your devoted paladin. The ArchDevil of Rebellion pulls you into a cosmic war against the very divinity you were the Chosen One for.
Now as for larger groupings, things get pretty fun. There are so many to choose from. Like for example:
The Bad Boys. Like as a throuple. Think about it. You're the cool son of a famous pirate; you're already kicking ass at bloodrush; youre hot shit. A metalhead and a briefcase kid latch onto you like barnacles. This is so embarassing. Cut to a month later and you're all on a rooftop sharing a cigarette and looking at the stars. The briefcase kid kisses you, and metalhead is next in line. Briefcase kid is also your best friend, even without the insane new tension and the fact that he can dismantle your coolguy persona with seemingly no effort. He tastes like burnt coffee. Even ignoring how metalhead can crack skulls, but treats you with gentleness and even hesitation, like he's afraid you'll turn him down. As if. His bangs get in the way when he kisses you.
The Bad Girls as a throuple. This one feels almost too obvious for words. Three girls who are all trying so hard and failing to be normal, but from three different directions. Imagine one day seeing the uptight wizard girl with rich parents and girl who tried to convert you to fantasy mormonism on her first day both walk into school one day holding hands with that punk girl who's in a band and who has already turned like six other students gay just by being cool and pretty. Then at lunch, they're all sitting together, and the elf and the cleric both have the bard's lipstick on their lips and cheeks. The cleric looks at you. She winks. You go home confused.
Figaydadaine. Figayda I don't have to sell you on, but you can't tell me Ayda and Adaine aren't so fucking cute together it hurts. They make spells for each other! Adaine has the key to the Wizard's Synod! Adaine killed her dad with Ayda's spell. Come ON, this shit writes itself. Honestly Aydaine is so good by itself
There's also an extended world of qpr among the bad kids - Rizdaine would be a great example of this. I don't think of them as a Couple, but they are SO close and there's so much trust and intimacy there. That's a pair that cuddle while watching movies or doing mystery stuff.
qpr FigGug is another great possibility. Just take all the sweet support and kindness they already have and pry out the romance.
I think if you pitched me another pair/group I could find something interesting about it, but those are my off-the-dome thoughts. Thanks for asking!
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getvalentined · 4 months
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I knew this would come up eventually when I mentioned it elsewhere, so I'm making a post on its own just to make things completely clear: Angeal and Genesis are canonically genetically related through Gillian. We do not know how related they are, but their connection through her is genetic, not "cellular" as it applies to FF7 science.
In English, Hollander says that Gillian's genes were used to produce Genesis, not her cells:
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This is often asserted to be a mistranslation, but it's actually not! The differentiation is consistent between English and the original Japanese:
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The word translated to "cells" is 細胞 (saibou), and this is a direct and accurate translation. This is the word used to refer to Jenova cells, S-cells, and Genesis' cells through the Compilation. What it's not used to refer to is Gillian's contribution to Genesis—that word is 因子 (inshi), meaning "factor."
Which means "gene."
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My take, which I've mentioned several times elsewhere, is that Genesis is a three parent child who was implanted with Gillian's mitochondrial DNA early in development. This gives him a genetic connection to Gillian and, by extension, Angeal.
I'm writing a hobbyist research paper on Cellular Degradation where I cover this, and a lot of people have seen swaths of that over here already, but here's that section anyway:
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Based on the different terminology, we can discern that this method was not repeated for the other two Jenova babies because it resulted in a failed experiment. This is important because differentiating how Genesis was made from how Angeal and Sephiroth were made helps to explain why Genesis is the one that fell apart.
Further, it clarifies that this is totally different from the connection between Cloud and Sephiroth, or even the connection between Genesis or Angeal and all their Copies: those are all the result of implanting cells, not genes. That's a viral infection, not a genetic connection.
I feel like finding out about all this is one of the reasons that Angeal went so far off the deep end so fast. Who wouldn't have a mental breakdown if their first crush turned out to be their semi-sibling due to in utero genetic fuckery performed by their mom?
Project G kids just can't catch a break.
This also isn't me trying to pull a "gotcha!" on G/A shippers, just to be clear. I don't ship it, but my reasons have nothing to do with them being indeterminately related. Nero and Weiss are canon and they're straight up half-siblings and were raised as such! Angeal and Genesis weren't! Luke/Leia shippers persisted and you can too!
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thiccpersonality · 3 months
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What Is A Father?
What is a father? 
This is a question Bruce has been pondering on for awhile now, especially now that Father's Day is coming so quickly. A part of him still feels the stinging pain of loss from all those years ago, yet also Bruce finds his heart warming at the memories he shared with Thomas Wayne...somewhere in his mind echoes the deep rumbling laugh of the doctor. It has been so long since Bruce has felt those strong arms wrap around him, his body trying desperately to recall the smell of medicine and antiseptics that always seemed to cover his father.
Bruce sighs loudly while turning to lie on his back, his nostrils flaring at the sudden scent of Thomas Wayne suddenly in the room. Icy blue eyes shut tightly at the tears that start to form in his eyes, it's been so long...yet that smell is undeniably his late father. There is the smell of the medicine Bruce hated so much mixed with antiseptics and yet something...warm, like a campfire, something very earthy and natural that was so undeniably Thomas.
Hm? With these thoughts, Bruce thinks he'll never get to sleep now.
The man grunts softly as he sits up against the headboard, his back cushioned by his pillows as he looks to the ceiling in thought. Because what is a father to Bruce? A father to him is many things, one of them being something to lose and mourn, but Bruce knows that is his negative side talking...everything in life is something you can lose, so he knows that people aren't too different.
As Bruce is thinking about the question, his eyes fall closed, his body still upright on the bed as an unconscious smile tugs at his lips from the memories playing in his mind...
-A Father Is: Structure-
Bruce was only three, small and innocent to the ways of the world and all the mess it can cause. Oblivious to the lies and gossip of the media and what they say about his family, more specifically, his father and mother. Though he is oblivious and naive, Bruce isn't a stupid kid, he knows that something is bothering his mother by the way her hands reach up to play with the pearls that adorn her neck, can see it in the slight furrow of her brows and the way she keeps tapping her armrest with her manicured nails.
And when his mama is distressed, Bruce is distressed as well. 
The toddler pouts at the hushed conversation that's going on across the room, his toys long forgotten as he watches his mother carefully as she whispers something aggressively to Thomas. Bruce's head tilts in confusion at the calm smile placed on his papa's face, is nothing actually wrong? Why is his mom so upset and his dad so relaxed?
Bruce scoots forward, being able to do so easily as his parents are distracted with their conversation, leaning in closer when he gets close enough to hear what they are whispering to each other about.
"How can you be so calm about this, Thomas!? They have been doing anything to try and ruin your name and reputation, and quite frankly, I don't know why you would invite the same people who talk about you behind your back into your home. I'm just-" Bruce's frown deepens at the anxiousness and exhaustion in Martha's tone-"I'm just so tired of people talking about you and I. I'm afraid that they will one day pull our baby into all this mess and Lord knows I don't want that for him, Tommy."
Bruce doesn't know exactly what his parents mean...but he feels himself getting upset at whoever is hurting his mom and dad. His daddy is good and kind and helps people, does no one else see it?
A gentle hum from Thomas catches Bruce's attention, the small tot freezing in place when he looks up and sees that warm gaze directed towards him. Thomas Wayne smiles gently at his son and holds his hands out for the child, "It seems we have a little guest, Martha. Looks like it's bothering Bruce as well." Martha gnaws at her lip in worry at seeing her little Bruce toddle his way to Thomas, the boy's face looking uncharacteristically worried for him and someone his age. "I'm sorry, my little Brucie. Mommy didn't mean to worry you-no? What do you mean no?"
Thomas and Martha watch as Bruce shakes his little head, "Not mommy. Bad people lie about daddy and mommy...that's not true. You're good, why can't they see it?"
Martha melts in her chair, her fingers stopping their constant tapping as she turns questioning gaze towards Thomas. "I don't know, Bruce. Why can't they see it?" Thomas sighs fondly at the slight aggravation that's still in his wife's tone, his arm tightening around Bruce while he leans over to hold Martha's hand in his own. "Sometimes people are complicated, this is something we know. I cannot say exactly why they can or cannot see what we see, Martha and Bruce, but one thing I do know is that I am happy where I am with you two and no lie or rumor can change that." Martha softens further at the gentle kiss placed on her hand and the kiss her husband plants on Bruce's cheek.
"I also know that I am in charge of how I choose to act. It can be hard to face lies...but I know the truth and that's all that matters to me, now, why don't we go smile and laugh and enjoy our night?"
Bruce relaxes in his father's hold, amazed at how calm Thomas can be despite everything feeling so scary, holding firmly onto the relaxed smile his dad is giving and doing his best to imitate one of his own.
XXX
Bruce sighs softly at the memory, his lips stretching into an imitation of his father's smile as he remembers how assuredly his father was in a moment where himself and his own mother weren't sure. Bruce always remembers Thomas being firm and unwavering in moments where anyone would shake and tremble, there was always a kindness and an understanding to him that Bruce always wondered about...
-A Father Is: Understanding-
Thomas and a four-year-old Bruce walk down the street hand-in-hand, the doctor has a rare day off and miraculously has not been called in for work at all, and because of such a rare thing, the older Wayne decided it would be a great time to go out into the city to bond with his son. Bruce does his best to keep up with his father as they turn the corner to head to their car, the child grunting as he bumps into Thomas's leg from the man abruptly stopping.
"Daddy?" Bruce questions while looking up to the older man for an answer, huffing and stomping his foot lightly at the lack of an answer from him, what could he be looking at?
Bruce looks to where Thomas is looking, the boy's eyes widening at the child standing in front of their car attempting to pull the tires off. Bruce hides behind his dad, his small hands gripping the man's pants leg tightly in fear as to what will happen next, his shoulders relaxing somewhat at the hand that rests gently on his head comfortingly. "Don't be afraid, son. What do you say we go talk to the young man?" 
Thomas chuckles at the look Bruce is giving him, the man choosing to smile kindly and walk forward quietly, trying not to laugh louder at his son attempting to pull him back from the other boy.
When they get close enough, Thomas places his hand on the kid's shoulder and clears his throat, effectively startling the young teen out of his concentration. "May I ask why you are trying to take my tires, young man?" Bruce hides behind Thomas's leg more when the older boy looks down at him for a moment and scoffs suddenly, "I don't hafta explain shit to you...old man. You wouldn't understand." Bruce feels his brows furrow in irritation at the boy's behavior, feeling indignant on his father's behalf at the tone the boy is taking with him.
Before Bruce can say anything in defense of his dad, Thomas just gently squeezes the teens shoulder again with a hum.
"Maybe I wouldn't or maybe I would. You never know unless you tell me everything over a meal, is that alright with you?" Bruce looks up at his dad in confusion, this person was just trying to steal their stuff and he wants to feed the boy? But he is always told that stealing is bad and you face the consequences of stealing, Bruce knows it to be true as when he attempts to steal snacks, he's scolded, put in timeout or popped on his backside depending on it.
Bruce isn't the only one baffled by the question, the teen looks around before staring back up at Thomas cautiously. "This your idea of a joke? I don't need pity or your sympathy, okay? I'm doing just fine on my own."
Thomas listens to the boy complain before nodding softly, "It isn't a joke. Nothing about this situation is funny...and I don't doubt that you are incapable of taking care of yourself, you seem to have some kind of experience on how to. But, you must be stealing my tires for a reason, yes? There is absolutely no shame in needing or asking for help, no one should be alone and struggling, especially a fine young man such as yourself. Now, how about that offer if you'd indulge this old man?" Bruce watches as something in the teen softens, no doubt there is some sort of caution still put up, but the boy looks more confused and in shock that Thomas is being genuine in his request.
"Uh...sure?"
------
"That's pretty much it. Guess your gonna call the police on me now?" The teenager, now known as Caleb, leans back in his seat while pushing his empty plate away. He looks content with the food, but something in his eyes is tired and lost as he asks the question, Bruce hears him asking: "you gonna toss me away too?" And that makes him sad for Caleb and how he thinks he's unwanted or unlikeable.
Thomas shakes his head, "No. I'm not calling the police on you, obviously you know stealing is wrong as you were trying to do it in secret-" he raises his hand to stop the boy from saying anything-"though I understand now where you were coming from. But, I would prefer if you could actually work and make money for yourself and your little sister instead of resorting to stealing." Caleb crosses his arms defensively and looks out the diner window, "Yeah...well, no one wants to hire a street rat like me. Your kind don't like people like us, guess we are too savage and dirty for the likes of them." Thomas looks troubled at hearing that, his tone kind yet firm as he speaks, "Don't say that. I like you very much, and it isn't any fault of yours that you are in the position you're in, so leave that train of thought behind you."
Caleb turns to look at Thomas and physically squirms at the look the older man is giving him...it has been so long since anyone looked at him with love and concern, usually people are too busy looking at him with contempt, as if he's nothing but trash. "You are old enough to work decent hours for your age. Caleb, would you do me the honor of working at one of my wife's orphanages or homeless shelters? I don't want you to be on these streets anymore...and you can work hard for me in payback for attempting to steal my tires."
Caleb feels as if he's in a dream, "I tried to steal from you...and you want me to work for your wife? Y-You are offering me a job, why? What's in it for you, huh?"
Thomas writes down the address and his number on a napkin and slides it over to the teen, "For one: you would be off of the streets and two: you would have a stable enough life, job and living conditions for yourself and your sister. That is exactly what is in it for me...I know this must seem like a lot, and I know you don't trust me right now, but just think about it. There is a door open to you anytime you want to come to one of those addresses and that number will always pick up when you call." Thomas slides out of the booth with Bruce in tow, smiling at Caleb one last time before leaving the restaurant.
Bruce looks back one more time when they are outside to look at the teen, his lips lifting up into a happy smile at how the boy is aggressively wiping his eyes and hugging onto the napkin like it's a lifeline.
A soft ruffle to his hair causes Bruce to look up at his dad, "You never have to be afraid, Bruce. Sometimes...people behave in scary ways or in a way that makes us mad, but you never know what got them to that point." The four-year-old nods and then tilts his head curiously. "He stole though, papa. You always say that is a no-no." Thomas chuckles and picks Bruce up, kissing the boy's nose: "Yes, and stealing is a bad thing. But, I would rather give Caleb an actual chance to get better when he's never gotten one before. I know he'll do well at his job and then he'll learn better things and grow so much. That is how he can pay me back for the attempt at stealing." 
Bruce gasps like he's gotten an epiphany as he's lowered and buckled into his car seat, "Is he serving out his time like in jail?"
Thomas stares for a second before laughing loudly and nodding his head. "Sure thing, kiddo. Sure thing."
XXX
Bruce feels the phantom touches of a strong hand ruffling his hair and lips gently pressing to his nose. He always was amazed at how his father seemed to be able to talk to anyone, all he had to do was speak kindly and offer one of his soft smiles and it seemed no one knew what to do with it. 
Bruce recalls moments when he was a-in his own eyes-a little monster, brat, or just annoying. Yet Thomas always remained patient with him despite any inconveniences...
-A Father Is: Patient and Fun-
Thomas Wayne sighs tiredly as his five-year-old son keeps squirming in his lap, the boy won't settle down no matter what he tries to do. If he lowers the boy to the floor, he screams, and if he holds onto the child, squirming is all that happens. "Bruce, why don't you sit on the floor or go play while I work? Daddy has some things he needs to review and sign." There is a bit of hope in Thomas's voice as he suggests this, maybe Bruce will magically feel like going to find Alfred or pester his mother instead.
Alas, that is not meant to be the case as Bruce whines loudly at the suggestion of being "separated" from his dear father.
"No, play with me." 
Thomas closes his eyes and inhales deeply before exhaling, he loves his son, he really does, but if only the boy could leave him be for just a couple minutes to let him get his work done. "I can't play a game right now, bud. I have work to do that is time-sensitive, and if I don't do it, it will be very bad." Thomas hopes Bruce will quit by mentioning things being bad for him if he doesn't finish work, his son is usually so kind and understanding about those things whenever him or Martha put things that way, but when Bruce decides to be a gremlin about things...he sticks to the roll well and doesn't care.
Bruce pouts and squirms more, " No. It's not more m'portant than me. Play with me?" 
Thomas sighs loudly once again before perking up, "Oh! How about we play hide and seek? I bet you that you can't find me if you're the seeker."
Thomas smiles triumphantly as Bruce's competitive side comes out (he gets it from Martha) and he narrows his eyes challengingly before climbing down his father's lap and turning away while counting. While Bruce is distracted with counting, Thomas quickly snatches his pen and papers into his arms and runs out of the office and into Alfred's bedroom, hiding in the man's closet and slumping in relief at the silence while reading and reviewing what the papers say.
Back with Bruce, the child shouts loudly how "ready or not, here he comes." The boy checking around the office first before exiting the room and standing in the hallway, he's a bright kid so he avoids any places that he can fit into, he can be oblivious and naive, but he knows some of the secret places are too big for Thomas. Let's see...if Bruce didn't want to be found, where would he go? There are a lot of places in his home where he could potentially not be found, but there is only one place no one ever goes: Alfred's room.
Bruce giggles and makes his way to his best friend's room, sniffing the air and feeling happy as the scent of his father gets stronger the closer he gets to Alfred's room.
Thomas holds his breath as the door creaks open, what is with children being able to find their parents no matter what? The older man listens quietly and grows confused as he hears Bruce sniffling, did he make his child mad? Does he think he doesn't care about him anymore because he is trying to work? Before Thomas can reveal his hiding spot, he is interrupted by Bruce knocking on the closet rapidly with a few giggles. "I know you're in here, daddy! I can smell you!"
Thomas opens the closet door to stare at Bruce, smiling softly at the proud look the other wears on his face.
"It looks like you've got me. How about we make a deal? You let me finish my work and then I play with you to your hearts content." Bruce frowns and crosses his arms with a pout, trying to remain stubborn as Thomas pulls him into his arms, "Why don't you wanna play with me? I just want to be with you, papa." Thomas chuckles at the slight dramatics in Bruce's tone, but his heart warms at the soft admittance of his son, hugging the boy close and pressing a kiss to the child's crown. "I want to be with you too, in fact, I love to be with you. But, I also have big people work to do to help provide for this family and that makes me not able to play all the time, but it doesn't mean I don't ever want to."
Thomas tugs Bruce closer to himself until the boy is curled up on his lap, "Do you know how you get tired after playing with Alfred, your mother and I?" Bruce slowly nods. "Well, that happens with my work and when playing with you too, it's very fun, but there is a point and time where you stop to just rest. However, my most important job is making sure you're taken care of, just how your most important things are making your mother and I beautiful paintings to make us happy."
"And Alfred."
Thomas chuckles and nods, "Yes. And Alfred, he adores every picture you make for him, as do we. And do you like being disturbed when making us your art?"
Bruce slumps at the explanation, "I'm sorry. I just wanna play." Thomas quickly peppers the pudgy face in kisses at hearing the sad tone in the boy's voice, "You don't need to apologize to me. I understand what you are going through, I was a kid once too, Bruce. And I'm pretty sure I was worse when I was your age...I went out of my way to sabotage my parents work so they'd pay attention to me."
Bruce makes a weird face at those words and shakes his head, "You are daddy. You can't be my age."
Thomas laughs loudly and stands up with Bruce in his arms, blowing raspberries into the child's neck as he tosses him on Alfred's bed.
XXX
If he focuses hard enough, Bruce can feel the bed shake as if he is bouncing up and down on it, can feel the tingle of raspberries being blown into his neck and can hear Alfred's exasperated sigh at seeing his Masters messing up his bed. He really wants to stop imagining things of the past...but whenever his mind slips and allows those memories to push to the front of his mind, Bruce finds himself desperately grabbing onto those once happy memories like a lifeline.
Bruce knows there are many other things his father was: gentle, forgiving, firm, silly, brave, peaceful and many more things. But the one thing Bruce seems to remember most is the version of him that is lifeless in an alleyway...
-A Father Is: Someone To Mourn-
Bruce is eight-years-old and cold. He doesn't care that the sun is shining down to share its heat, nor does he care for the beautiful blue of the sky...if anything, he hates the colors and the happy chirps of the birds in the trees, despises the fact that nature is so happy when he feels so blue.
Bruce hates looking out the window and seeing his mom's garden in full bloom, the red of her roses mocking him as each petal dances to the sound of the breeze. They're red like two things Bruce can think of firsthand: blood and his mother's favorite lipstick...lipstick she'll never be able to wear ever again. Why do Martha's flowers get to bloom and live another day when the woman herself is gone now? How is it fair to his mother that her garden continues to flourish when she is no longer here to tend to it?
Bruce feels anger and looks away from the too lively garden, his eyes turning to the trees and the birds living in them. His father loved listening to the birds every morning, Bruce recalls watching the sunrise on the balcony with his dad as the man cradled him in his arms and listened to the birds. Bruce remembers his father telling him once that the birds are singing every morning because they are happy. That they are trying to extend their own happiness out to the world with their joyful songs, and Bruce remembers feeling happy when hearing the birds sing...but now it makes him sad.
He desires to tell the birds to shut up, there is nothing to be happy about when his whole world was taken from him a couple days ago, he hates how alive everything is and wishes the sky was grey with clouds. He wishes that the sun would hide and rain would fall in mourning of the people lost to him, he wishes that thunder would rumble and lightning would strike in grief and he wishes that nature would still itself and be quiet, that the birds wouldn't sing a happy tune as there is nothing to be happy about. The once colorful memories of Martha's garden and Thomas's trees are now tinted blue with sadness at memories Bruce can never share with his parents ever again.
Bruce looks up into the bright blue of the sky as a tear falls down his cheek, his chest tightens at the overwhelming feeling of grief in his heart, his knees shakily lowering himself to the ground as the scent of his mother's flowers in the air are now tainted by the smell of gunpowder. 
A sob escapes the child as he wraps his arms around himself in imitation of how his father used to, he doesn't want to feel cold anymore. His body trembles as the sound of the birds chirping is tainted by his father's pained shouts as he collapses to the ground, why is he alone? All alone. Where is-
A firm hand rests on Bruce's shoulder, tugging him into a warm body that smells like lavender and something slightly smokey.
Bruce hadn't even realized he was panicking until hearing the sound of Alfred's sturdy heartbeat, now that he has something to focus on, he focuses on the life beating in the other's chest. His body slowly starts to warm up as Alfred also presses his shaky hand to his chest, the other just simply being a solid presence when Bruce is scared and unsure. "D-Don't leave me...please don't leave me." Bruce whispers into Alfred's suit jacket, something oddly warm spreading through his heart at the bleak looking clothes Alfred is wearing, usually the man has at least a splash of white to add some color...but the man is wearing all black. It's like he's letting Bruce know that he misses them too, that he isn't alone in how mundane he feels and that despite how bright things are, maybe there is still room to mourn and miss someone who is lost.
"I'm here, Bruce. I'm right here."
XXX
Bruce comes to at a firm hand on his shoulder, his hand automatically reaching up to feel the now aged hand of Alfred, breathing in deeply at the man's voice. "Bruce, are you alright?"
Bruce opens his eyes and is shocked to see the sun light coloring the room in its beautiful rays of red and orange. Blinking twice at the wetness he feels on his eyelashes, Bruce finds he doesn't mind the splashes of color as much this time around, he knows he has so many things to grieve and feel saddened over...but he also knows he has plenty to celebrate for. The man standing before him looking down worriedly, that grounding touch gently placed upon his shoulder-
"Father."
Bruce's breath hitches as he looks towards his open bedroom door, his eyes watering at the slightly sleepy look his youngest child still has on his face, he has never seen something or someone so beautiful. Is this how his own father felt long ago when Bruce came to him during mornings or for Father's Day? Bruce opens up his arms and smiles as Damian doesn't complain and climbs into the bed, holding in his laughter at the sound of the boy's other siblings making a ruckus as they flood into his room. Bruce takes a moment to look back at Alfred and finds his heart swelling with love at the man he now calls father...he knows that Alfred will never be Thomas, but the man never expected to be, all he knows is that they both are what is and was needed in his life.
Thomas Wayne taught him many valuable life lessons while he was alive, but Alfred showed him the other aspects of what a father does: step up.
Alfred didn't have to take Bruce on as his own...and yet he took care of him, fed him, clothed him, comforted him, was patient with him, was firm and a solid structure when Bruce himself felt he was about to crumble. But most importantly, he showed him to love unconditionally and without any expectations from the person you care for, the man truly has only wished the best for Bruce in times where he would scream, shout and cry at or to Alfred...and yet the man only ever opened up his arms or offered his hand for the grieving child to take whenever he was ready to.
A small hand on his cheek breaks Bruce out of his thoughts, looking down he sees Damian staring at him worriedly. And when looking up...Bruce sees so many beautiful colors from the people he loves. Finding himself thankful for the proof of life from every single one of them. "I'm...happy?" Someone in the sea of children snorts at how it sounds like a question, but Richard shushes them and tackles Bruce into a hug, the one body slowly turning into a dog pile of giggling children (plus one cousin) as they all shout. "Happy Father's Day, dad!"
Bruce feels more tears fall down his face as he closes his eyes and holds his family close to his heart, finding himself thankful for the memories of his parents as the smell of Martha's roses blows through the room and the sound of Thomas's favorite birds sing loudly for Bruce to hear. And when opening his eyes to see Alfred standing at the side of his bed simply content to watch over them, it is Bruce who offers his hand for the other to take if he wants.
A genuine smile graces Bruce's face at the warm hand wrapping around his own. The man only finding one thing to say to the man who stepped up as a man and a father-
"Happy Father's Day, Alfie."
(I just wanted a fic about Bruce actually thinking about how much he misses his parents, but because it's Father's Day I focused on Thomas a bit more. I hope I wasn't sleepy enough to not have this make some sort of sense? But again, I apologize for the writing this time around. 😭😭😭
I am sorry for the lack of Bruce's children being involved here, but as stated before, I wanted to focus on Bruce actually pondering on how much he does miss his biological father while also being happy at the father he also found in Alfred. I wanted to show a Bruce who is realizing that it's okay to still miss his late father and it's also perfectly fine for him to love Alfred like that as well.
Near the end there is a slight parallel (that probably wasn't noticeable as I didn't exactly write it that way lol) between Alfred and Bruce as father's near the end, because Bruce stepped up and in for all of his children when they were scared, alone and unstable. I also got that idea because I feel I recall one time in a Batman comic that Richard mentioned Bruce stepping in for all of them and all that cute family stuff!
DC can try to rip good dad Bruce and happy BatFam out of my hands, but I won't allow it. That version of the family is all that should exist UwU, they deserve it all! You darlings are much appreciated for stopping by to read if you did. Don't be afraid to leave a comment if you want, I promise I don't bite! 😂
You darlings please stay safe, happy, healthy and of course lovely as always. And if you can...let your father's (whether bio or not) know how much you appreciate them or love them and know that everything will be alright, you just gotta believe. 💛💛💛💛)
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tgmsunmontue · 5 months
Text
More than movie magic... 18/24
Hangster AU. Explicit (eventually). Jake is a Hollywood actor and Bradley is a stunt coordinator. Jake's about to make a few self-discoveries. So is Bradley.
ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX SEVEN EIGHT NINE TEN ELEVEN TWELVE THIRTEEN FOURTEEN FIFTEEN SIXTEEN SEVENTEEN
Chapter 16 is pretty much the only explicit chapter (so far), so you can skip it if you like, but it's not explicit by my standards, and it's very soft/tender.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
                “Well hey there…” Jake says, and now that he knows Bradley likes his Texan accent he makes no effort to temper it, but Bradley looks annoyed instead of amused or aroused and Jake hopes the annoyance isn’t directed at him. Not already.
                “Hi. Can I talk to you real quick?”
                “Uh, yeah, of course…”
                Of course there are catcalls and Jake rolls his eyes, but his heart is beating fast, thundering in his ears, terrified that this is somehow going to be his shortest lived relationship ever. He doesn’t know what he’s projecting exactly, but Bradley’s reaching for him, lacing their fingers together and pulling him to the side, just out of the way and out of earshot from most people although he notes pretty much every eye in the room is turned their way.
                “Hey. Hey calm down. We’re fine. You’re fine…”
                Bradley has shifted, putting his back to the room, as if he’s protecting Jake from everyone, eyes flicking over his face and his expression is concerned. Fuck.
                “Jake… you with me?”
                “Yeah, sorry. Just… heard those words before and it’s generally not the start of a good conversation.”
                “Sorry. Shit. I’m so sorry. I just need to tell you something, and I feel like I’m going to be apologizing a lot today. Nothing either of us did though, okay?”
                “The photos?”
                “Yeah. Mav’s seen them.”
                “Mav?”
                “Sorry. Pete. He’s on his way here because he called me from the air and he’s incapable of believing I can make my own life decisions.”
                “Okay. That’s okay. I’ve met Pete before.”
                “Yeah. You met professional-Pete, not parent-Pete. Different beast unfortunately. Just… if I could have kept him from meeting your mom until after we were married or something that’s how I would have played it, but, uh…”
                “You’ve thought about us getting married?” Jake blurts out, surprised.
                “Uh. No? Well. Not in detail exactly.”
                All his feelings around Bradley second guessing his decision to be with him have just dissolved, and he knows he had no reason to doubt it, but also knows his brain isn’t a rational place sometimes. Instead he’s watching Bradley blush and look awkward and he’s definitely falling in love with him.
                “I generally don’t start relationships with people I can’t imagine myself spending the rest of my life with? I’m thirty-five, I have a better idea of what I’m looking for. And I can imagine a future with you, so… here we are.”
                “Oh. So why would Pete be worried about that?”
                “God. This is not the place for that conversation. Just. I’ll tell you, but we have fifteen minutes before we’re meant to be on set and I need to tell you something else… He’s bringing Tom. His partner. Um.”
                Jake has to admit he’s confused. Pete having a male partner doesn’t really explain why Bradley seems as worked up as he is.
                “Okay. So it’s a man. You seriously don’t think I’d have a problem with that do you?” Jake asks, staring at him and gesturing between the two of them. Bradley is shaking his head though, like there’s more and Jake waits.
                “Tom as in Tom Kazansky.”
                “What?”
                Okay then. That’s a name and a half. Jake knows who that is of course, but he never met the man, Kazansky being pretty much a recluse since his health scare a decade previous when Jake had only just started making a name for himself. Jake isn’t even sure he’d recognize the man, the photo used in any media one from over twenty years ago.
                “Yeah. They’re… shit.  Thought I’d have time to tell you and prepare you for how weird they are. They have… a complicated relationship. They’re both incredibly stubborn and agree that they love each other, but they also… well. Tom got cancer, so he called it all off, said Pete could find someone better, and that started a whole other fight, but it was the most ridiculous thing, arguing over who loved each other more. They’re both hopeless, but neither of them can see it.”
                “Oookay…” Jake says slowly, his mind racing, because quite frankly he doesn’t care about Pete or Tom, he just wants Bradley to stop freaking out. “Bradley. They aren’t going to scare me off anymore than my family has scared you off.”
                As he’d hoped that makes Bradley laugh and he can’t help his answering grin.
                “I like your family.”
                “Well, that’s good. God. We’ve got to get to set. Marcia is going to have my head.”
                “I need to talk to her too, give her a heads up about Pete,” Bradley says, and he’s glancing over his shoulder then, eyes scanning the room and Jake reaches for his face and gets his attention before kissing him.
                “Go. I’ll see you in the arena shortly. Hope you appreciate that I don’t have to do makeup today!”      
…            …            …
                He’s distracted as he watches Jake walk away, but only a little, because he needs to find Marcia and Arnold, let them know that Pete is coming, but only to visit him and not to be an ass and tread on another turf, despite that totally being Mav’s MO. He knows Mav is getting on and mutters about retiring, but whenever he’s not working Bradley has to deal with more of his bullshit than usual.
                “Bradley, you haven’t eaten anything!” Aunty Kaye calls out, and he startles a little, turning toward her, because she’s not wrong, but he is going to be late to set.
                “Uh, no, haven’t really had time yet. I did grab a protein bar. Thank you for that by the way,” Bradley says, and he hopes he isn’t blushing too badly.
                “Hmm. That’s not proper food.”
                “No, I know. I just had a phone call. My dad is coming to visit. Both of them I guess. They’ll probably be here for lunch actually. Assuming they don’t get lost…”
                “Well I look forward to meeting them. Hmm. Do you know why I like you Bradley?”
                “Um. I thought maybe you liked most people?” Bradley asks, suddenly feeling like he’s smack bang in the center of a minefield with no idea how he got there. And of course he can’t be rude and just run away, he’d much rather incur Marcia’s wrath than Aunty Kaye’s at the end of the day.
                “Oh, I do dear. But I liked you before I’d even met you.”
                “Oh.”
                Now he’s confused.
                “You stand up to him, you wouldn’t let him try anything risky or dangerous and he complained about it bitterly,” she says, laughing. “But you know what I thought?”
                “What?”
                “That that sounded like someone who would keep Jake safe and unharmed. I’m his mom, of course I want him safe. He gets into enough trouble without thinking he can do risky stunts.”
                “Yeah. Of course.”
                “You don’t let him railroad you into things, I admire that too.”
                “Thanks?”
                “Here, on his own turf, watching him do something he was born with in his blood? You trust him to know his limits. He needs that too.”
                Bradley just nods, not sure if he’s even allowed to speak.
                “So. I like you. However if I ever find out you’ve deliberately hurt him, either emotionally,  physically or mentally I want you to know that you won’t see me coming. I will find you. Now, I can’t really threaten you with bodily harm, however I can threaten you with my disappointing looks, which my children assure me are the worst thing they’ve ever experienced. Of course, if Jake screws this up he’ll also be on the receiving end of one of such looks. However, I feel like you’re a man who doesn’t give up easily. Some days you’re going to have to dig-deep, because my baby can get in his own head and think the worst of everything and everyone, but I think if he were easy you wouldn’t be as interested as you seem to be.”
                Bradley gapes like a fish, mouth opening and closing and he has no idea what to even say, where to start with everything she’s just said. All it’s highlighting is that he and Jake really need to have a proper talk. Not just about their relationship, but maybe about potential baggage that they have, because he thought maybe he was the only one. He should have known that wasn’t going to be the case.
                “I’ve already told Jake that I think he’s worth it.”
                “Good. Maybe he’ll believe you.”
NINETEEN
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Something i love to think about when doing things like reinterpreting characters into a different world and franchise is how different it can end up depending on what parts of a character and their lore you adapt.
Like mlp. Some characters are so obviously one type of pony no mater how you look at them or what angle you go from. Some dont have a super strong pull to any.
But then there's the characters who go by what I'm talking about. Like Knuckles. Who can fit just about anything depending on what parts are picked for his adapting (Under the cut cuz i got lots to say)
If you're adapting Knuckles as a character, no thoughts to translating his lore earth pony is PERFECT. He's got a focus on raw strength, he's often depicted as larger and bulkier than the rest of the cast, his most fitting element is earth. It fits so well.
Adding in some vague references to lore and he'd be good as a crystal pony. He'd be in a kingdom that was unknown to the world for thousands or years that has a super powerful crystal artefact. (Plus I will forever adore Knuckles with a crystal vibe)
But Knuckles can also work as a unicorn. One you can use it to reference his hand spikes, (Maybe even give him a horn that splits in two) and he's involved with mystical energy that you can translate to magic.
He could also work as a pegasus. He canonically can glide and he lives on an island in the sky. (plus he is so the type to shield someone with his wings) and the pegasi used to be war like and that would fit the past of the echidna
Playing into the last of his kind, "other" aspect could have him be fitting as a non pony species (maybe even one that doesn't appear in the show but would feel fitting) and some of these can kinda parallel the echidnas story. It's not perfect but they can work if you're just using it as a vague reference as to the echidna story and focusing more on the fact he's a different species to all those around him
Like the griffins were a culture that fell into ruin after an event involving someone attempting to steal a key artefact. He could fit the hippogriffs with their story of being forced below the waves and becoming a lost culture, he could fit the changlings with how they attacked ponies like how the echidna attacked other tribes, Knuckles is actively telling people not to be like his ancestors like how the changlings are trying to be different from their past.
or give him a few traits to make it so he can't really be called any of the main pony species, like he's an ancient and lost type of pony.
But now we get to what happens if you REALLY play into all the Master Emerald lore and i think making him an Alicorn has so much potential.
First of all, he has a direct connection to the thing that's described as the most powerful artefact/source of chaos in the world, (and in mlp we do see a character who's exposed to a immense amount of magic become an alicorn.) Plus his role as guardian would fit with the whole idea of alicorns filling a special role in the world. The m.e can do many things and translating that to magic and focusing more on what he'd be able to do with it REALLY sounds like alicorn stuff and the stuff for him being each pony type can still be brought in cuz alicorns are a mix of all three pony types.
And there's so much fun to be had playing into the idea of 'Is he a naturally born alicorn? did the m.e do this to him? Did the m.e bring him into existence like this?" He can't say, he's sure always been this way, being this way feels natural and there's no clear signs that he was changed into one but if he was born an alicorn, where did he come from? who were his parents? were they alicorns? and the idea that the m.e and create life out of nothing spooks anyone who thinks about it.
But he really doesn't get what all the fuss about him being an alicorn is about, why everyone always stares if he has both his wings and horn showing, even when they are covered ponies seem put off by his size. (This is the perfect place for the feelings of loneliness and otherness being the last echidna give him in the normal canon)
Also the good ol' immortal Knuckles vibe are strong. He doesn't know how long he's been up there, but he can remember places from the surface that he's so sure he shouldn't be able. Maybe he doesn't even know alicorns are immortal until someone tells him. He then spends ages trying to convince himself that he's a young immortal, because the thought of him having a life that he's somehow forgotten is immensely distressing.
Bring in the things from canon of Knuckles not feeling like its his place, or is perhaps even scared to use his power and you've got an alicorn, an immensely powerful being, who's barely tapping into his magic, only doing the basic spells that practically every unicorn uses in their day to day life. he could but he's so worried about what might happen if he does. So he goes for physical fighting moves instead. (And the idea of him tapping into that immense power to protect his friends works so good with him as an alicorn. You do not want an angry protective and powerful alicorn after you.)
And the storyline of finding a lost alicorn on a mysterious floating island has wonderous potential. Gives Eggman all the more reason to manipulate him on sight. Sonic's running along in superform, and then something knocks into him. His eyes focus and there's an alicorn in front of him. No wonder he was able to knock him out if his superform,
(I've also seen a take where Shadow is an alicorn cuz. "Why wouldn't they make the ultimate lifeform an alicorn" and i love that, but i got some extra thoughts. It being very clear he's an artificial alicorn and those working on project shadow not fully understanding that a alicorn is a mix of unicorn, Pegasus AND earth pony and just creating him with the first two. There so many delicious storylines that could come from shadows identity as an alicorn getting a shake up.)
The more i talk about it the more i adore alicorn Knuckles and all the story potential it has. Also, the thought of him looking all regal and mystical and then when you talk to him he's brash, rude, kinda feral, lives outside instead of in some castle and is a dorky sweetheart who pretends he totally doesn't care even though he's often instinctively using his big alicorn wings to shield his friends. (He also has many of his critter friends use his wings as shelter and if you look underneath you'll find a whole pile of the smols)
i am quite likely to talk about this again cuz its so fun
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panderp123 · 10 months
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C3 EP 78
⚠️ SPOILERS CR ⚠️
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The Lost Children
Seeing Bells Hells aftermath of the shard rejection and how Ashton has brought down those walls. The group goes off in different directions to come to terms with Ashton doing a selfish thing.
The moment…of all characters to say this…Delilah tells Laudna
“He’s a child…”
Which sparked Laudna to make one of her quirky dolls and pulled at my heartstrings.
But before this happened Fearne was so upset she had a somewhat childish tantrum about Ashton almost dying. Three of the party members have severe childish tendencies all different but wow!
Fearne doesn’t know how to handle anger because in EXU she got scared of being evil or turning. Which resulted in her having silent storm-offs or unusual lashouts. It’s very Fearne and how much isolation she’s had from being protected by Nana Mori. A being of the Feywild, Fearne is a delight but it’s so heartbreaking when something scary happens she becomes this little girl. Or a difficult decision such as reviving Orym earlier in the campaign.
Once Fearne storms off and as predicted Chetney goes off to console her. Ashton became this small thing and the walls were all gone. Some moments caught me by surprise.
“I…just want my parents.”
“I wanted someone to blame other than myself…”
“I don’t like myself very much…”
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These are important points because I think Ashton…never really left the desert. Their inner child is constantly crying out for their missing parents. This also concluded my point before that the Greymoore home wasn’t as great as it should have been.
To link back to the doll Laudna makes later in this episode, Ashton sees Laudna and apologises. He didn’t betray her. He just did a dumb thing and that triggers Laudna’s childish tendencies. Laudna doesn’t understand the difference between betrayal over doing something dumb in a selfish manner. However, when the doll is handed to Ashton they start to cry.
Holding it and looking at it which a new look at their mistakes. Ashton is just this broken child deep down.
“I’ve never had a doll before…thank you.”
The fact Ashton had never been given a toy shows you how messed up their time must’ve been at the orphanage. Before they plain jump he tucks the Ashton Doll on his person.
Now on to Laudna, the weight of the events pulls her closer to her patron Delilah. As much as we don’t want her to awaken more I’m kind of glad Laudna had her to talk to for this as I feel Imogen would have sugar-coated it too much.
Delilah albeit dark, evil and narcissistic did make an effort to console Laudna. Not only that but Laudna defied her when Delilah suggested she take the shard.
The childish nature of Laudna is due to her traumatic past. So she clings to her inner child Matilda as those memories are not overshadowed by her time in the castle or with the Brairwoods. By all means this isn’t healthy at all! However, it is character growth.
Naming off all the sad things of her friends' pasts or her own Laudna finds a way to mend Ashton’s inner child by making a doll out of graffitied wood, a chipmunk skull & quartz. It’s simple but it made the tough punk cry so it must have worked.
I’m glad the ice was broken before they took respite in the Feywilds. Despite being homesick Fearne didn’t want to be selfish like Ashton in asking could they go. Given that the group are not mentally stable to face Ruidius they all agreed a needed R&R is needed due to lack of communication.
I like how Matt added Birdie & Ollie at Nana’s because the whole group needs a loving parent unite to help.
Things I’d like to see upcoming:
• Chetney is the Grandpa of wisdom of the group & there’s no BS so more of that. (Be funny if he hit on Alura more just for a laugh xD)
• Laudna & Ashton connect on a wholesome level with childish joys (toys or puppetry)
• Ashton & Fearne reconcile more. No romance but more fixing the foundations before anything happens
• Birdie has a secret 👀
• Allura becomes a more Mother like figure for Imogen in regards to her power.
• Orym gives Ashton a stern talk (Liam was AFK so it be good to see what happens there.)
• Nani Mori knows what to do with the shard 🔥
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Hey!
A reader asked for a Draco x Dione one-shot fic years ago. They wanted to see how Draco and Skyrah's sister got together after Voldie's death. I'm slow at writing. You know me. But it's here and it's too long to be considered a one-shot, so it'll be a three-chaptered story plus its epilogue.
Here are the links to the story:
AO3
FFN (this site says the story can't be found; I think it's a bug and in a few hours the issue should be solved. If you prefer FFN over AO3, you'll have to wait, I'm afraid).
Though this is a Drione fic, the Snapes (including Harry Potter-Snape) will be present throughout the story. As will the Malfoys and a special character (though the latter won't make an appearance just yet).
Under the cut, there's the last Drione scene after the war is over, in case you have forgotten this adorable Slytherpuff couple. The new update takes place right after this scene.
Enjoy!
Spoilers ahead if you haven't read "It's Not That Simple" (AO3, FFN):
He kissed the top of her head, resulting in her giving him a watery smile.
"We should pick Corbin up," she whispered.
Severus nodded and craned his neck, scanning what was left of the Great Hall. Harry was still with his friends. Dione, however, was out of sight. Without them, the Snapes wouldn't leave the place.
"Where's your sister?"
After a quick glance-over, Skyrah mumbled, "Over there."
Following the direction she was pointing to with his gaze, he spotted not Dione but the Malfoys, near the Slytherin table. Narcissa and Lucius stood arm in arm in an attempt to feel less judged under the wary looks they were being thrown. Their scruffy appearance, though uncharacteristic of them, didn't surprise him, not as much as Narcissa's squinting eyes and Lucius's agape mouth.
Stiff as a board, Draco stood at a short distance from his parents. Dione was pressing her cheek against his, chin resting on his shoulder, arms tight around his form. His self-restraint vanished along with his embarrassment when she whispered something in his ear, if his face now buried in her unkempt curls and his arms drawing her closer were of any indication.
Severus walked towards them, pulling Skyrah with him. No longer out of earshot, they were able to follow the conversation between the teenagers.
"We're no longer enemies," said Dione, eyes gleaming in anticipation.
Draco, enchanted by her until then, took a sudden step back, breaking the embrace. The sneer back on his face hardened his already sharp features.
"Haven't you seen the way they're looking at me? At my family? You better get away from me. I should have never allowed myself to–"
"To what? To get close to me?" She blew out a noisy breath. "I'd be gone if you hadn't."
"I'm dark. I'll end up hurting you."
"The only thing you seem to do is help me, even when we're on different sides. And you still have the nerve to tell me you'd hurt me?"
"Everybody would gossip and wonder why you'd be with someone like me, and they'd be right," he finished in a bitter tone.
"They don't know you like I do. Why do you care about other people's opinion, anyway?"
"Why don't you? If we were together and I or my parents were sent to Azkaban, you'd–"
Dione flung her arms round him, and the world stopped.
"What the…" started Severus, unable to finish the sentence.
He recovered soon from the shock of witnessing Dione silencing Draco with a smacking kiss. Granted, he had caught many students engaged in snogging sessions and other acts of intimacy, but the fact his sister-in-law was involved made all the difference. He glimpsed at Skyrah, concerned about her reaction. To his surprise, she was grinning lopsidedly. He uncovered the reason as soon as he realized she was staring at the Malfoys. Oh, quite the comical sight, they were. Lucius's eyes were virtually bulging out of his face. Narcissa, on the other hand, looked more curious than shocked, occasionally shooting hostile glares at those who dared whisper about her son.
Dione smiled into the kiss, putting an end to it, and Draco, try as he might, couldn't look anywhere but her mouth. Even if he felt the prying eyes of his parents and professors on him, probably waiting for an explanation, he couldn't bring himself to offer one. He cared only about the girl who kept her hands around his neck.
"You shouldn't be seen with me, let alone kiss–"
"Don't worry about the future now. We'll figure everything out."
That argument wasn't convincing enough for him. Draco detangled himself from her, ignoring his shattering heart.
"I can't do this."
Dione swallowed hard, having noticed his dark tone. "W-what do you mean?"
"We can't be together."
He hung his head to avoid seeing the pain on her face. The pain in her voice, however, was perfectly palpable.
"We finally can. You just don't want to. Have I done something wrong? Do you believe I can't make you happy? Is that why you're so against us?"
"N-no. Even my patronus…" he trailed off, passing a hand through his hair.
She became aware of her heartbeat at the realization the only reason he would have mentioned his spirit guardian was that she was part of his chosen memory.
"Wouldn't you like to be friends at least?"
"You should aspire for more than someone who could end in prison, a death eater."
She was about to protest when Severus called Draco's name.
"You won't go to Azkaban. Nor will your family if I can do something about it. I owe you."
Draco startled, realizing his parents and the Snapes were close enough not only to see but to hear them.
"You don't, sir. You helped me even when I didn't want to be helped. We're even."
"My sister-in-law would be dead without you. My wife. You were brave enough to change sides. Trust me. I've been there. I know it isn't easy, and I won't let you go to Azkaban. I already talked to an auror. He won't arrest you today, and even though a trial is bound to happen, I'm willing to advocate for you."
Draco unstiffened, feeling much lighter and hopeful having his support, even if still uncertain about his future.
"Thank you, sir, but I wouldn't have been able to reach you if Skyrah hadn't believed in me to begin with. You healed her. I…" He eyed Skyrah. "You believed I could invoke a patronus. I would have never done it without you."
"Don't take the merit away from you. I told you that you'd succeed one day. And you aren't a bad person, much less a death eater."
"I don't think many people share your opinion."
"Just because you've got the Dark Mark–" interrupted Dione, but Skyrah cleared her throat, letting her know she needed to talk to Draco alone. Resigned, the girl joined Severus.
To avoid being overheard, Skyrah tottered towards Draco and spoke in whispers.
"The only opinion that should matter to you is your own. You saved so many lives when you gave your wand to Harry. Mine and my sister's, too. A loyal death eater would've never done that. I can only thank you."
"For being selfish?" he scoffed. "When I gave the wand to Harry, I wasn't thinking about others. I was thinking that would be the only way to have a slim chance to avoid Azkaban."
"You wanted Harry to win; otherwise, you wouldn't have risked your life." She grinned ruefully at his sudden incapability of looking her in the eye. "I used to be like you, pushed everybody away for fear I'd hurt them. It took me years to be brave enough to have a friend, and I never opened up to him completely, not even when I was about to marry him. I believed I was protecting him, the same way you think you're protecting my sister."
"I am protecting her."
"No, you aren't, because she clearly wants to be with you, and your refusal is hurting her like I kept hurting Daniel."
"She'll find somebody better."
"Better than the person who jumped in front of a killing curse for her?" At his silence, she asked, "If you believed you weren't dark, would you like to be with Dione?"
"That doesn't matter. I'm bad for her."
"If you were, you wouldn't care if she got hurt. I told her to keep her distance from you years ago, but after everything that's happened, there's no doubt in my mind you can make her happy, and I want her to be happy."
As did he, by his wishful expression. He had fantasized about a future with Dione for too many sleepless nights. Having the real thing would elate him, but not at the expense of her reputation. It wasn't just the gossip that bothered him but his parents'. None of their potential reactions were reassuring. He was convinced the only reason they hadn't shown their discontentment yet was they wouldn't cause a scene in public.
"I need to think about this," he murmured finally.
Skyrah was about to reply Dione wouldn't have demanded anything else of him today when Lucius told him they had to go. Draco nodded at him absentmindedly, studying Dione, who kept staring at her dirty shoes, leaning against Severus for comfort. He wished she'd look at him before taking leave, if only to let her know there was no reason to feel so hopeless yet.
"I'll tell her that you need time," offered Skyrah. "You should go with your parents."
So he did, his head bowed.
"I expect you to tell us what exactly is going on with Skyrah's sister when we get some privacy," Narcissa said, keeping a straight face.
To his relief, she sounded intrigued rather than disappointed. He didn't dare look at Lucius, though. Before the Malfoys disappeared amongst the crowd, the Snapes made sure to thank them for their help one last time.
"My, my, little one," Skyrah said in a sing-song voice, now next to her family. "You do know how to leave your future in-laws with a lasting impression."
At the sight of her flustered sister, Skyrah had to cover her mouth to keep from tittering. So red her face grew, her blue eyes stood out and appeared bigger.
"In-laws? Draco doesn't even want to be my friend!"
Despite the crack in her voice, Skyrah's playful attitude prevailed, in fact, she clucked her tongue.
"Of course he doesn't. He's interested in more than friendship." Dione was torn between snorting and looking at her sister with hopeful eyes. "Trust me, he'll ask you out eventually."
It was only when Dione asked how she could be so sure that Skyrah's grin turned rather sad.
"I couldn't stay away from Daniel, even if it took me a while to accept him in my life."
"And you're okay with that? With me and Draco possibly dating?"
"I approve of him. It's clear you both care deeply for each other."
Dione visibly relaxed despite sensing a 'but' her sister wasn't mentioning. Skyrah looked serious all of a sudden, debating whether she should say what was on her mind or not.
"What's the matter?"
Skyrah sighed. "I thought you kept your distance from him at school. You said you'd be careful. That didn't look like a first kiss."
"I-it wasn't," she admitted, fiddling a curl. "But we've never been together! We both knew what was at stake! We kissed just once last year and didn't kiss again until the battle began."
More hurt than angry, Skyrah asked, "Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because you'd have worried about me and, honestly, You-Know-Who and the war and Harry being away and the Carrows… Everything was too much already."
"Dione…" she whispered, her face softening at the realization her little sister had just meant to protect her.
"Please, say you forgive me. Mum's already going to disown me if she ever finds out I fancy a Malfoy."
Skyrah chuckled despite herself and put a hand on her freckled cheek, noticing just mentioning her mother turned those blue eyes slightly glassy.
"Oh, don't worry. I'll defend you when you tell her. It can be in a few minutes."
Dione tilted her head in confusion. "A few minutes? The aurors still need to look for her."
"Not anymore. Whom do you think has been babysitting Corbin all this time?"
Dione looked at Severus, in search of clues Skyrah wasn't kidding even if deep down she knew her sister wouldn't joke about that. When Severus gave her a nod, she could barely breathe.
"Mum's with Corbin? Free?"
Skyrah hummed. "In Ireland."
Dione controlled the urge to jump at her and throw her arms around her lest she'd hurt her sister. Instead, she hugged her gently, resting her chin on top of Skyrah's shoulder. Though the girl managed to blink back tears, she sniffled soundly.
"Mum's okay, little one," crooned Skyrah, planting a kiss on the top of her head. Fatigued, she allowed herself to close her eyes. "She wouldn't disown you even if you decided to date a troll, although she'd undoubtedly question your sanity and your taste in boyfriend material."
Dione chuckled, finally releasing a few tears. 
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juneyjubilation · 2 years
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Headcanons and Drafting for a Liu Woods x NB!Reader Fanfic
A/N: Hello! I have been writing on tumblr for near a decade now and am starting a new account to clear up my feed for everyone! I’m going to be revamping my writings from my previous account and reposting them on here as well.  This is to keep myself accountable, and also for y’all to see details on future fanfics :))
_ _ _
+ Grew up in a strict religious household, who’s mother reigned with an iron first and father was negligent. They were manipulative– the parents were rich and would love bomb on the boys if they grew distant or too cold towards them. There was a constant push and pull in the household.
+ If Liu or Jeff committed what his mom considered sins she would not refrain from corporal punishment, or cruel and unusual methods.
+ Liu would try and take the brunt of most of it to protect Jeff
+ Liu is the older brother, I will not change my mind on that. Simply cannot. 
+ Liu suffers from DID, having three tangible alters. Liu himself is the host, Sully the persecutor, Dara the Internal Self-Helper(Gate Keeper), Orpheus the protector.  + Liu’s Bio: Liu used to be a very outgoing person. He was defined as an extrovert, and was very popular in his group of peers. He wouldn’t hesitate to stand up for others outside of his household. He also cared for Jeff deeply, and wanted to protect him all he could. With how his parents were, all he could really do was take the blame off his little brother, and redirect their fury. However, after the incident, he’s more of just a shell of his former self. He’s quiet and aloof, standing back to observe more than to go right on in. Similar to Sully, he is very slow to trust. It is possible to get close to him though, and only then would aspects of his old self shine through. Once he is comfortable though he is physically affectionate, adoring touching people even if it’s just standing shoulder to shoulder. He has to feel very safe though in order to do so. He is a goofball with bad old man puns and an aloof sense of humor. He collects cool rocks he sees even if it’s from the rocks that are surrounding shrubbery outside of businesses. He himself has a fondness for sweets, usually candies defined as “old people candy,” but that’s partially due to the fond memories he had of his grandparents. Liu wears graphic tees, like the ones that say “MILF - man i love frogs” and shit like that. He wears a tattered canvas type jacket over top and fingerless gloves, he prefers pants with a bit of leg room like puffy ones that tuck well into his boots. He does steal Sully’s jewelry though. His bracelet is a forest green, gray, and black.
+ Sullys Bio: Sully is the trauma holder, carrying the weight of everything that was done to Liu. He carries that anger and brandishes it like a weapon. He is vindictive, aggressive, and very deeply hurt. He is stubborn and refuses to let people close to him, because in his eyes anyone who’s ever gotten close to him has used it to either hurt him or for their own personal gain. He likes spicy food, like noodle bowls and salt and vinegar chips. He wears intense layers, like a long sleeve with a button up and a coat with tattered arm socks and a bunch of necklaces. Eclectic fashion in muted tones. Has the psychobiological difference that he is allergic to pollen and has severe allergies. His friendship tie is a deep red, bright red, and black. He was developed as a direct cause of what happened with Jeff Sully formed when he was attacked by Jeff.
+ Daras Bio: Dara is in his own eyes a healer, he is able to calm down even the most intense moods and guide Liu through all stages of life. He is calm and rational, and very protective of the few people who are in the system, and has the most empathy for those outside of it. He acts as a second brother for Liu, being more like how Liu himself used to act for Jeff. He loves fruit, but is not a candy person. Loves blueberry pie and lemon flavored baked goods. He is a hobbyist who loves to bounce between sewing projects.HE MADE THEIR SCARF He dresses very academically in sweater vests and corduroy pants, and takes pride in dainty jewelry. He has made tie friendship bracelets in different colors so it is easy to identify who is in control at that time. His is a soft blue white and gray. He was developed at a young age, technically a fracture of Liu when he was a child He was a source of comfort when Liu was being abused by his parents.
+ Orpheus Bio: Orpheus is the sole reason Liu is alive, especially with the reckless shit that Sully pulls. He is cunning and resourceful, he is like a quiet but gentle giant. He keeps track of their belongings so they dont get lost between switches, he is stern like a grumpy but doting father. Very paternal, but also ominous and threatening. He wears casual t shirts with flannels and distressed jeans. He loves to cook, and seriously thrives in a kitchen. His favorite foods are savory like steak and potato stew.  He is honestly the only reason these mfers eat. His colors on the wristband are violet, indigo, and magenta. Orpheus was forming in the jail cell for self preservation, but only fully stabilized and showed himself when Sully killed the nurse watching over them.
+ Liu and Sully would be attempting to hunt down Jeff. Dara is desperately trying to keep peace in the headspace, and Orpheus is living purely off of survival instincts. Individually they all are working towards separate goals, though. + Liu wants to find his brother, and save him. He believes if he fixes his brother, miraculously things may work out
+ Sully wants nothing more than to kill Jeff, and anyone who gets in his way will meet the same fate.
+ Dara wants to live. He simply wants to be happy. He wants a normal life, in a small apartment with a cat. He wants to work in a library and spend the rest of his days reading. 
+ Orpheus is tied to stopping Sully or cleaning up the aftermath so that Liu can get away easily. But he wants to live similarly to Dara, he wants a spouse and a child to care for and dote on. He wants a career and a normal life as well.
+ Suffice to say that he is constantly dealing with inner turmoil.
+ Reader in this fic is a server at a shitty bar and grill. They live in a one bedroom apartment with shitty landlords and a cat smuggled into it. The cat is a black cat named Ricky. They named it that for the fact that when they lecture the naughty cat they wanted it to be a human name.
+ I am sick and tired of having the protagonist be squeamish and super empathetic. I want an adhd character whose head is going a million miles an hour, and is whimsical yet deadpan. I want a character who looks at graphic shit and goes “huh.. Thats fucking gross. Ig?” and stores that shit away. They don’t know how to talk to people but they also have no filter so when some of the sweetest most poetic shit you’ve heard in your life comes from them you’re shocked because a few minutes prior they were pondering how difficult it would be to beat a karen to death with a spoon.
+ I want to write a character who lacks judgment in those around them because they firmly believe that there is so much wrong with them that they have no room to judge others.
+ The reader is the concerned parental friend.
Events I want to happen but in no particular order: + Reader actively falling asleep in bed, whilst Liu lays on the floor next to the bed staring directly at the ceiling. Upon sleepily noticing this they drop their hand down off the edge of the bed, taking his hand into theirs and giving a kind squeeze. Liu’s heart is like pounding out of his chest but he keeps holding it, hes holding it gradually tighter and tighter and can feel tears in his eyes, but composes and loosens up and falls asleep. 
+ The reader not having to ask liu if he has DID, they’re not clueless. They look up his symptoms and learns about it, waiting til he’s comfortable telling them. 
+ The reader looking up grounding methods and using their own techniques to help him come down from rage, mania, and anxiety.
+ Sully enraged because the reader has been seriously injured and going fucking ballistic.
+ Orpheus joining you to cook in the kitchen, humming quietly as you dance through the small kitchen nook.
+ Dara comforting the reader after a long day at work where they’re nonverbal and exasperated to the point of tears.
+ The reader comforts Dara and tells him it’s okay to feel things and process emotions for himself and not just help other people through theirs. 
+ Sneeze shifts
_ _ _  A/N: Thank you so much for stopping by you guys! This is in the works currently and will be a multi chapter fanfic that I will be cross posting on AO3! :))
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nerdygaymormon · 1 year
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I'm scared that being queer is going to drag me away from the church, because every queer person I know in the church has absolute bare minimum faith, and they always contemplate leaving, and I have heard in polls about the sheer amount of queer people leaving the church because of the bigots who refuse to accept and live in equality and harmony with the LGBTQ+ community.
Why can't the straights and Christians just get along with the LGBTQ people and vice versa? It's like a small thing like being queer is enough to have both sides hissing and clawing at each other, and being in all three communities feels like I'm being pulled in two different directions: one half of me who believes in the Church doctrine and wants to be that good, faithful girl who goes to heaven, and the other half who wants me to embrace who I am.
I absolutely hate the fact that queer people have to be closeted in this Church, and I hate the fact that being queer makes me feel wrong, because of the bigots and prejudicial people who can't just let people live their lives regardless of gender or sexual orientation or whatever.
I also hate that part of me can see the patriarchal format of the church and even as a kid questioned why, but currently I am so desperate to keep my faith, to hold onto the one thing I know is true in this world, that I'm wondering whether I should just stay closeted for the rest of my life and live as a cishet and then no one has to know and I can just avoid being disowned and I can avoid having my closest friends turn on me and I can avoid being ostracised for something as trivial as not aligning to the gender binary.
I'm also terrified for my next temple recommend interview because I don't want to lie when the bishop asks if I believe in anything that goes against church doctrine because I might but I don't want to say yes since that might prompt further questions, and I don't want to lie to the bishop and say no.
I can't even ask my parents because they're both homophobic, transphobic and very actively hateful towards anti-LGBTQ people, and I feel like I have no one to talk to, since I don't know any irl friends outside the church and all my other friends believe in being relatively anti-LGBTQ as well.
I feel at my lowest point right now and I hate this because it's piling onto pre-existing family drama and I just want it to end.
Why can't I live my dream of being a proud queer mormon with a husband and kids like I've always wanted without this crippling crisis adding itself onto the gender dysphoria I have from my mother pressuring me to dress and act femininely?
I hate this feeling so much and I hate putting on a smiling mask for people and pretending like it's okay because I can't get into how I'm feeling and the closest I can get is writing an anonymous ask on a queer mormon tumblr blog in the hopes that someone can hear me and talk to me from an understanding point of view.
Sorry for the rant, I had to get it out somewhere...!
This is heavy. I'm glad you wrote.
You're observant. Most queer individuals do leave the church. It indicates that church isn't a good place for most queer people and needs to make some changes.
The church used to define how I viewed myself and my queerness, but over time, my queerness has changed how I view the church. I can't change and not be queer, it's not a choice, and no matter how much I wanted to it just isn't something I have the power to change. Since this is how God made me, then it makes me question why my church would say it's wrong or bad.
For me, I had to learn that this church isn't perfect, the prophets sometimes get things wrong. Lots of things have changed and will continue to change.
Fortunately, Jesus taught us the 2 great commandments and then said all the laws and prophets hang on those 2 commandments. It helps me when I think about teachings at church to think "does this fit with the 2 great commandments, to love God and to love myself & my neighbor?" If it's not loving of myself or my neighbor, then it doesn't fit with what Jesus taught. It helps me identify things I can set aside and the things I can hold tight to.
I'm not saying that now is the right time, but one day you will step out of the closet. Almost every queer person takes that step and it's a brave thing to do. Everything starts changing at that moment because then you can speak up for yourself.
There is a temple recommend question that asks "Do you support or promote any teachings, practices, or doctrine contrary to those of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints?" Feel free to ask your bishop if he could explain this a bit more. For example, I support gay marriage and Elder Christofferson has said that members can support gay marriage and still have a recommend, but if two women marry each other then they can't have a recommend anymore. The way I think of this question is the way I live my life is the biggest testament I can give. Even if I want things to change or I disagree on some things or even reject some statements by the prophet, I still live my life in a way that complies, that is a stronger statement than anything else.
We have a queerstake discord that I think you'd enjoy. You'll meet many current and former members who are queer. Even though some are former members, it's not a place to bash church members. Send me a DM and I'll send you a link
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Can I ask you to write (if you feel like it and have free time, I don't want to sound imperative/demanding) a ficlet/next chapter of Blood Brother about the meeting of children with Lyle and Zdog, which you mentioned a few posts earlier?
I love the original story with all my heart but there is something special about this one shot, I totally can't stop thinking about it since I read it. I think the best thing here is Spider's quite rebellious (idk what to call it) character and how he protects his brother. The whole basement scene made me feel close to tears. I really admire your skills and creativity, and i hope you have a nice day/night 💕
Thank you so much! I really appreciate it. I was super proud of the basement scene when I wrote it so I'm really happy it's been so well received.
And yes I will gladly write about the boys meeting Uncle Lyle and Auntie Z 💞
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     Miles and Hunter were laying on the living room floor engrossed in their homework, their father sitting over them supervising, when rustling noises and the faint sound of chatting alerted the family. Miles immediately jumped to his feet and looked to his father for direction. The man waved him off. “It’s nothin’ Junior. Just your uncle and auntie comin’ up for a visit.”
    “Our what now?” As far as Miles knew neither of his parents had siblings. Or at least siblings that they kept in contact with.
    “They’re some of my old squad mates. My right hand man Lyle Wainfleet and your mama’s best friend Savin Zdinarsik. Z-dog for short. They’re coming up to see how we're doing. Bring us supplies and all of that.”
     “Like what Pa,” Hunter asked, sitting up to innocently stare at him.
      The father had to chuckle. His soon to be thirteen year old thought he was being so casual with his question but the anticipation was written all over his face. “Wouldn’t you like to know.” Hunter pouted over that answer. His Pa bent over and playfully ruffled the boy's hair. Hunter glared at him with all the ferocity of a kitten, incredibly annoyed, but too cute for his Pa to take seriously.
     Still laughing at his youngest Miles Sr stood up, motioning for his son’s to follow. “Come on boys. Let’s go say hi.” 
     They stood outside for only a few moments before two figures came strolling out of the foliage, one a broad bald man, the other an incredibly fit woman with a mohawk. They both broke out into wide grins at the sight of the family. “Holy shit,” Lyle exclaimed as he quickened his step towards the house, “would you look at you boys! It’s only been two months but you both already changed so much!”
      Hunter cocked his head to the side, “you’ve seen us before?”
      Lyle’s expression became awkward, “yeah, but y’a know the circumstances were a little different,” he laughed nervously, “I’m not surprised you don’t remember. You were both kinda…asleep.”
      “Were you the one who rescued me?” Hunter asked, putting the pieces together.”
       Lyle’s nerves melted away at the word “rescued” instead of “kidnapped”. His smile returned even wider than before, “yeah kid I was.”
     “Oh, thank you,” Hunter exclaimed, bouncing a little in place.
       “You’re welcome kiddo,” Lyle turned his attention to the eldest brother. “Look at you! You actually look like a boy now without those pussy braids,” Lyle roughly ruffled Miles' hair. The teen took the teasing in good stride, rolling his eyes, but with a faint smile pulling at the corners of his lips.
       “Alright, alright. My turn already,” Auntie Z said, pushing Lyle out of the way. She paused in front of them drinking in their image. There was something so sad and tender in her eyes yet happy at the same time. She turned to the boys’ father, “god they look like her don’t they.” 
       All three members of the family felt their hearts swell. Miles Sr proudly pat both of his sons on the shoulder, “they sure do. They sure as shit didn’t get this good lookin’ from me.” The adults all laughed while the boys smiled awkwardly. “How ‘bout we head inside. I’m sure you two want to rest, grab a bite, unpack…”
      “We do” said Lyle. He had a wry grin on his face that instantly told the family he was up to no good, “but we have a surprise first.”
       The boys’ eyes lit up, “a surprise?” “Like what? “Where is it?” “Is it in your backpack?” “Show us!” “What is it!”
       “Boys! Stop talkin’ over each other.” Their father fixed them with a stern look, instantly quieting his sons, then turned his attention to his comrades, “I’m sure whatever it is it can wait for a couple more days.” Miles Sr gave a subtle glance to the soon to be birthday boy. Hunter didn’t notice, too focused on his aunt and uncle.
       “No can do boss,” said Z, “this isn’t exactly the type of thing you can keep waiting for long.”
       The Colonel was instantly suspicious, “what did you two do?”
        Z and Lyle’s confidence never wavered, “follow me.” Z beckoned them forward. Miles and Hunter rushed ahead eager to see what they had been brought. Their father trailed behind annoyed. They only had to walk a few feet into the tree line when they saw it. The brothers gasps, racing forward, sinking to their knees to pet the excited border collie puppy that was leashed to a tree. 
      Their aunt and uncle beamed down at them as they watched the kids play with the pup. She jumped into their laps, licked their faces, rolled over so the boys could rub her belly. The boys were shrieking with joy. “She’s so cute!” “How old is she?” “Does she have a name?” “Did you really get her for us?” “Do we really get to keep her?”
     “Boys what did I just tell y’a about talkin’ over each other.” All the attention turned to Miles Sr. At the look of exasperation on their fathers face, the boys sobered from their excitement.
      “Papa….” Hunter called, making sure he looked as wide eyed and pitiful as possible.
       His father sighed, “Hunter don’t you start…”
      “Papa please…” said Miles every bit as pleading as his little brother. 
      “Miles not you too…”
       “Please Papa.” “Look at her, how can you say no to this face.” “We promise we’ll take good care of her.” “Yeah! We’ll take her on walks…” “…and feed her…” “….and give her baths…” “…and pick up her shit…”
      “Alright alright, quit your begging already.”
       The woods became quiet as they all waited for the fathers decision. Z was the first to break the silence. “We thought it’d be good for the boys to have a little extra company.”
       “Yeah!” Lyle said, “a friend..”
        The Colonel scoffed, “what do they need a friend for. There’s two of ‘em!” The brothers both shrank inward, bracing for the inevitable no. Their father noticed and lost some of his fire. “God, do you two have to look so absolutely pathetic? You’re killin’ me here! Or maybe I’m just goin’ soft. Keep the damn dog I don’t care…” His son’s where wrapped around him in an instant 
      “Thank you, thank you, thank you Papa!” Hunter's face was buried in his father’s torso, muffling his shouts of joy.
      “Thank you so much Pa,” Miles said, tucked under his father’s chin.
       Miles Sr squeezed his sons tight, “anything for you boys.”
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shebeafancyflapjack · 8 months
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Not gonna tag this but those that know will know what it's about. Fuming rant under the cut.
I fucking hate the take of "those who hate the found family splitting up trope are young people who are scared of change and being apart from their parents/siblings" - shut up! It is so god damn patronising.
I am a 34 year old childfree-by-choice neurodivergent lesbian who moved out on her own three years ago. It was the happiest day of my life because my family is toxic as shit and I wouldn't go back to living with them for anything. I do not fit this image you have made up.
Why do I hate the trope? Because I've lost contact with enough straight friends in my life who have got married and had kids and moved away and it fucking hurts, do I resent them for it? Of course not! Am I happy for them? Yes! Do we keep in touch when we can? Yes but it still hurts. Especially when those of my friends who have kids or boyfriends are more likely to stay in touch and you feel like you don't fit in, or people judge you and say you're not a "grown up" simply because you're a woman who doesn't want children. So whenever I see the "the couple has a child so they have to grow up now and will inevitably let their friendships be pushed aside" happen it leaves a bad taste in my mouth.
I watch TV shows and read books for ESCAPISM. Most of the shows I'm into are fantasy or have some supernatural elements, so everything else is allowed to go in completely crazy directions, with the writers jumping through all sorts of loops to make things happen, but friends who are like family being separated or losing touch as soon as someone gets married or has a kid HAS to happen because it's "realistic"? Giving us the fantasy of witches and superheroes and ghost families is fine but the idea of found families not being separated forever / most of the time is going too far? Like there's no magical or plot twist you can pull so they can still stay close, they have to part ways because "lol thats just life!" It reminds me so much of the days where Bury Your Gays was everywhere, when it was like "yes you get representation but not a happy ending" - and given found families are usually queer coded or go against the heteronormative narrative it feels connected.
No of course people don't have to live together 24/7 to still be family or best friends but they can live near to each other, or they can go exploring but return to the same home town, they can see each other more than just at Christmas and the odd celebration, they can help be there to raise the inevitable child - like seriously why are we pushing this "two parents have to just focus on their kid together", the closest person I'm to in my family is my sister in law and she LOVED having so many aunts around to help be there for my nieces and loved having time to be something other than a mom now and then! One of my friends who became a mum but I stayed close to loves the moments where we can hang out and, even though I say her kids are always welcome at my place, she likes coming on her own so that she can just enjoy our time together.
Also wanna point out that if you compare found family to nuclear family, and that leaving them is "no different than moving out of your parents house" then you really don't get the found family trope or why people from backgrounds like mine get so attached to it.
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risebto · 2 years
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Blood is Thicker than Ooze | Chapter Six
Word Count: 3524 Warnings: Bad Parent Draxum, Hurt Donatello, Unreliable narrator, Psychological abuse, Separated Donnie AU Description: Purple is the son of Draxum, a great warrior alchemist. With his help, Draxum will eradicate the prophesied human threat, and restore yōkai to the surface. Purple doesn’t understand why these three turtles are trying to stop them.
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Leo rolled his arm in its socket, trying to will away the pain he felt in his arm. It wasn’t broken or sprained, which was good. It was sore from being kept at a weird angle when caught by that Draxum guy's cocoon trap. 
Dad was still watching TV, just as he was when they had left. He wondered if the old rat had even noticed their absence before shaking his head. He sometimes thought so little of his father, despite what he gave up to raise them… It’s not like Splinter chose to become a rat, nor did he decide to raise three baby turtles all on his own in New York’s sewers.
He knew he was probably his least favorite. Mikey couldn’t be disliked by default; he was the youngest and sweetest. Raph was kind and strong. There was nothing to suggest that Dad didn’t like him or that he might like the other two. Leo could never shake that feeling of inferiority. 
“Leo, your arm okay?” His older brother’s voice pulled him from his thoughts. The large turtle mutant had a worried expression on his face; one Leo was familiar with. Raph worried too much, in his opinion. But he knew Raph didn’t think Leo was concerned enough. 
Leo gave him a thumbs up with the sore arm, ignoring the discomfort it caused him. “All good, big bro! Just a little stiff, is all. What about you and Mike’n’ike?”
“I’ve got no wounds,” Raph answered but looked worryingly at Mikey, who sat crisscrossed with an old iPad in his lap, either drawing or playing a game. “I’m worried that Mikey got hurt, though.”
“‘Wounds,’” Leo repeated with a chuckle before directing his attention towards the youngest of the three. Mikey was capable of many things, and Leo was painfully aware of his abilities. But he would always be his little brother, and he understood why Raph thought him so fragile. Not only was he the youngest, but he was also the smallest. Raph was always a little rougher when they were younger and had accidents when it came to playing with Mikey if he wasn’t careful enough. 
“Mikey,” Leo called, causing the younger turtle to look up at him. “You got any ‘wounds,’ as Raph would say?” Leo could practically hear Raph roll his eyes.
“Nope!” Mikey said with an enormous smile, returning to what he was doing. Leo saw that Mikey was holding a pencil and figured he was probably drawing. It was Mikey’s thing- other than cooking. Despite being named after artists, Leo and Raph never took up drawing as a real passion. But Mikey always had a niche for it. 
“His birthday’s coming up,” Leo said quietly to Raph. The older turtle nodded, glancing at the youngest for a moment before returning his gaze to Leo. “Maybe we could get him some of those markers he likes?”
“Copic?” Raph asked, clearly hesitant. “We got the pack he currently has at a discount from April’s old job- and even that was kinda pricey.”
“We can just buy a few colors,” The middle turtle suggested with a shrug. “We could ask him what colors he needs more of- or if he's run out of ink with some. I think they sell individual Copic markers at the Micheals near April’s apartment.” 
Raph nodded and patted him on the shoulder before yawning. “I’m gonna hit the rack. You should, too.” 
“Will do,” Leo assured him and watched his big brother disappear into his room. Leo was admittedly tired, but he knew that sleep often evaded him. There was no difference between being out and about while awake and being in bed, staring at the ceiling, and being awake. He made his way towards Mikey, observing his newest drawing.
It wasn’t incredibly realistic, which wasn’t a problem for Leo. Mikey had a very original style, and no matter what any pish posh artist said, it was his favorite art style in the world. 
Mikey had a sketched turtle that looked like Leo but… different. “You testing out a new style?” He asked, sitting next to him on the floor to watch him draw. 
Mikey shook his head. “I’m drawing the turtle we saw today.”
Leo stiffed unintentionally before forcing himself to relax. Was this a coping mechanism? “Don’t worry, buddy,” He said, bumping his shoulder softly with his own. “He’s not gonna hurt you.”
Mikey laughed at that. “I’m not scared of him!” The orange turtle said earnestly before slumping a bit. “Do you think we could be related? He looked like a turtle. He looked a bit like you, honestly.”
Leo hesitated for a moment, biting his lip at the comparison. “I don’t think he was a turtle. I mean- the thing on his back was more like a backpack than a shell. Plus, he didn’t look anything like me! I’m way more handsome.”
Mikey chuckled, and Leo smiled because his little brother was, too. “Yeah, you’re probably right. Dad would’ve told us if we had some crazy long-lost brother.” 
“Yeah,” Leo hummed before nudging the younger turtle softly before getting up. “You should head to bed soon, ‘kay?” Mikey nodded but had a reluctant look on his face, causing Leo to pause. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s a little stupid, but….” Mikey fidgeted with the pencil between his fingers but sighed and continued despite his apparent anxiety. “I’m still shaken up from earlier. Not about the not-turtle cyborg guy- just the goat man.”
Leo’s expression softened in understanding. “Wanna do a pile like old times? We could all sleep in Raph’s bed- I’m sure there’s enough room.” 
Mikey stood up, his iPad held against his chest, as he followed Leo toward their older brother’s room. Leo knew Raph would say yes. When they were younger, they often slept in a pile due to the childish fear of being alone. As they got older, they requested their own room and space. But, every now and then, one of them would get a nightmare. In that case, they all would go to Raph’s room for a sleepover pile. 
Leo might razz on them, but they all knew he would tear the Earth apart if it meant making sure his brothers were safe. And he knew that they would do the same for him. They were brothers, after all.
Purple hated his “brothers.” They didn’t even deserve that title. They were strangers at best and enemies at worst. They had forgotten him as a child and left him to die the previous day. They didn’t care about him then and had proven that they didn’t care about him now. 
The small flame of hope he had for their familial ties was snuffed out and buried when they attacked Father and him.
Father hadn’t spoken to him today, certainly disappointed in Purle’s catastrophic failure. It was well-deserved on Purple’s part, but knowing that didn’t stop the shame that prickled underneath his skin. 
He’d been avoiding his father’s judgemental gaze by staying in his room. It was a cowardly move, but it saved him from the embarrassment that would ensue if he had to confront his father and try to explain why the device they’d worked so hard on was now slit in two and all over the laboratory deck. 
“Are you still thinking about your brothers?” Shelldon questioned, to which Purple nodded. The turtle sighed, sitting with his knees pressed against his plastron. 
“I thought… we’re supposed to be family,” Purple murmured. He didn’t want to speak right now, his mouth feeling stuck and the words so hard to form. But he pushed himself anyways, knowing that he couldn’t remain silent. No, that was weird. He had to talk. “Why’d they leave?”
“To be fair, Draxum was trying to capture them. And you were helping him. In their eyes, you were being an aggressor. To help you would possibly mean getting themselves hurt,” Shelldon reasoned. It made sense, and Purple hated that it made sense. He didn’t want there to be a reasonable explanation for why they’d left him.
“I hate them,” Purple decided. “I hate them.”
“Fine with me,” Shelldon said nonchalantly, which Purple found odd. The tone, the way he spoke… It was all off. He turned to Shelldon and was surprised to see him connected to the spare computer he’d brought out for him the other day. He was playing Minecraft- but he wasn’t speedrunning it like he’d seen him do before. No, instead, Shelldon was building a house. Like, an actual house that looked nice and wasn’t entirely for practical reasons.
“What?” Shelldon asked, confused by his sudden silence and shocked expression. “It’s not that bad, is it?”
“You’re playing Minecraft,” Purple said dumbly, watching Shelldon continue to place bricks down. You didn’t need bricks to complete the game or make a practical house. “You’re not… trying to beat it?”
“Nah,” Shelldon shook his body as a sort of ‘no,’ which surprised Purple even more. “I wanted to build a house I found on Google Maps.” 
“You’re sentient,” Purple realized, at last, not caring for the house Shelldon immediately backed up from to show him a comparison. “You’re… Alive.”
“Well, duh,” Shelldon rolled his eyes. Purple didn’t know he’d programmed him to be able to do that. 
“When did you start….” Purple waved his hand in the air, searching for the words. “Having Yōkai-like intelligence?” 
“Rude,” Shelldon grumbled, his eyes narrowing in offense. “But I believe it had something to do with some of that mutagen getting into my circuitry yesterday when the lab exploded.”
“Oh,” Purple murmured. He didn’t know how that made sense. The mutagen was supposed to combine human and animal DNA to mutate them into yōkai-like beings. Robots weren’t supposed to be in that equation. “Interesting… I wonder if maybe you combined with my DNA? Since that would be the most recent organic lifeform, you came in contact with.”
“FUCK,” Shelldon said, causing Purple to whip around in worry. But he noticed that Shelldon had been blown up by a creeper and was on the death screen. “That MOTHERFUCKER blew up my house.”
“...Dude, just rebuild it,” Purple said, not understanding why the robot was so upset. It was weird to think that he could be upset at all. Guess that's a thing now. Sentient robots and crab men.
“I’m running all your data through a complex algorithm,” Shelldon said, and his eyes turned to 1’s and 0’s, a sign that he was genuinely computing something. “My algorithm has concluded that you are a bitch.”
“I don’t know if I prefer your sentient or not,” Purple deadpanned, but the smile on his face betrayed any lie he might’ve said. But a thought lingered in his mind, causing him to sigh and return to the previous topic of conversation. “I thought they would at least… care for me. In some regard. You can’t deny the resemblance.”
“If they had offered to take you with them, would you have gone?” Shelldon asked. 
Purple played with his fingers in his lap. “No,” he admitted quietly. “I couldn’t leave Father. I couldn’t survive without him.”
Shelldon didn’t respond to that and just returned to his game. Purple didn’t understand what Shelldon was feeling. “Are you mad at me?” 
“No?” Shelldon responded, confused by the question. “Why would I be mad at you?” 
“Oh,” Purple murmured, feeling embarrassed. “...Sorry. I’m bad at reading people, and… you’re not so easy to read, either.”
“What would help you understand what I’m feeling?” Shelldon asked, exiting the game to focus purely on Purple. It made the young turtle feel odd to have someone’s attention solely on him. It made him realize he didn’t want to talk about himself or his issues. It was uncomfortable.
“You don’t have to do anything,” Purple said honestly. “I need to work on that myself. Not everyone’s gonna be as accommodating as you are.”
“Alright,” Shelldon said. If he had shoulders, Purple was sure he’d be shrugging. He returned back to his game.
Purple sighed, burying his head in his knees. He pressed his kneecaps against his eyelids, watching the colors swirl in his vision. He knew the lights were an illusion created by the pressure that activated cells in his retina the same way natural light did. But it was nice to close his eyes and see patterns and shapes in his eyelids. He imagined that they were animals dancing across his vision.
-
He was seven. Training with Father had started when he was five, and he’d gotten progressively stronger through the years. He’d been clumsy and slow at first, but his balance had improved. Father had even brought him his wooden bō and bought a training dummy just for him.
“Again,” His father called as he backed away from the dummy, already tired and strained from the twenty-minute training session. 
He wanted to stop. He wanted to sit down and get drenched in cold water to cool off. But he knew it would only be ten more minutes until they were done, so he continued. 
The dummy was mystical in nature. It was able to replicate a real foe, and its settings could be adjusted to fit the trainee. It was a gift for his fifth birthday and something he cherished. It currently held the form of a human. 
He charged the dummy once again. The mechanical figure had arms that reacted and attacked, but Purple made sure to counter each blow. He was on the second to the lowest setting, which was frankly embarrassing for his age.
When the dummy went to rebalance itself, Purple swung his bō against its stomach, causing it to fall back onto the ground. It got back up, but Purple was able to use this moment of recuperation against it as he swung at its legs. 
The human kicked him back, and the soft-shelled turtle landed on his back. He cried out in pain, looking towards his father for help. But his father shook his head and pointed at the pseudo-attacker. Purple forced himself up despite his aching joints and knocked the opponent’s fists away from him just as it tried to punch him. He moved around the training dummy, shaking slightly. He moved forward and struck a blow to the dummy’s side, who recoiled and hesitated. Purple leaped into the air and used his bō to directly smack against its neck. When he landed on his side just feet away from the mystic fighting dummy, he watched it return to its standard stance when not in active training.
Purple fought to catch his breath, his lungs feeling as though they were burning. He began to cough, clutching his side. His face was hot with tears that hadn’t been given permission to fall. 
He felt a hand begin to rub his bare shell, the soft touch comforting to him. “Are you okay? Purple, is something wrong?” Father asked, his voice full of concern. “Are you hurt?”
He shook his head numbly, unable to get words to form. He tried to stand up but turned and hurled his lunch onto the mat next to him. Tears mixed with the disgusting bile on the carpet as he cried from the pain that shot through his throat. 
Father shushed him soothingly, still rubbing his back. “It’s okay, Purple,” he said softly before reaching for the tiny turtle. Purple didn’t complain and clung to his father, his small body shaking. 
He buried his head into his father’s shoulder, tears staining the shoulder pads. But Father didn’t care, more concerned with his son’s health than the awful vomit. 
“Huginn will clean that up,” Father said. “Let’s get you some water.”
Purple nodded and looked up at his father with wide eyes. “I’m sorry,” he murmured softly. “I didn’t wanna throw up.”
“I know,” Father said, petting his head. “It happens. As you train more, that’ll happen less. But just because you threw up doesn’t mean you can skip the last eight minutes of training. We’ll just add that time onto tomorrow.”
Purple didn’t protest and instead felt himself sinking more into Father’s touch and comforting presence. The training was a necessity; he knew that. Father only did it to make him stronger and improve him. Really, he was fortunate that his father had the materials and means to train him. Not many others had this luxury. He had to take advantage of the situation he was blessed to be in.
-
Purple sat idly in the training room. He didn’t have his bō on him, nor his battle shell. His back was bare as he stood there just observing the room. Weapons clattered on the floor when his “brothers” trudged into and stole the mystic weapons Father had paid a fortune to acquire.
Long ago, Father had shown him the wall of weapons. He told him that he’d be given the glowing purple scythe that hung on the wall once he was ready. The weapons next to it were reserved for his brothers when he was strong enough to save them and bring them back home.
But now they were gone. Both his brothers and the weapons on the wall save the scythe reserved for Purple. It was oddly fitting, in a way. They’d even left behind the powerful weapon, just like they’d left him. 
He wasn’t sure if he’d ever be ready for the scythe. Both in skill and sentiment. His bō represented him on a fundamental level he wasn’t sure anyone but him would understand. He made his bō from scraps and pieces forgotten in a junkyard and used those chunks to create something beautiful. 
He reached for the scythe on the wall, feeling the spark of mystic energy tickle his hand. But it felt wrong, so he pulled away. He wasn’t deserving of it- not yet. Maybe he never would be ready.
But he was willing to try. Purple may never use the weapon his father had gotten for him, but it wasn’t about the weapon. It was about himself and his ability to yield it. He needed to become more mature- more of a warrior. More of what his father aspired for him to be. More of what he wanted to be.
There was so much more he could do. 
The purple-marked turtle stood outside his father’s room. He wanted to knock, to let his father know what he’d been thinking. But he was afraid of his father’s disappointment and scorn. 
He sucked in a breath and knocked.
“Come in,” his father’s muffled voice came from behind the door after a moment. Purple pushed the door open, ignoring how his legs shook from anxiety. 
His father was sitting on his bed, his armor removed. Purple rarely saw him like this, exposed and vulnerable. It reminded him that they were similar in many ways. The horns on Father’s helmet were fake and not his own. He was a bovine yōkai with no horns in the same vein as Purple, a turtle mutant with no shell.
He had to remind himself that Father may push him, but Purple shouldn’t be ungrateful for his actions. Father did what he did out of love and a need to protect him. Because he knew what it was like to not have one of the most excellent defenses of your adjacent species.
“Purple,” Father said, his gaze holding a disappointment that only made Purple’s anxieties worse. 
“I’m sorry about yesterday,” Purple said, awkwardly standing in the middle of the bedroom. He shuffled his feet and glanced around the room as he thought about what to say next. “I… I should’ve told you about the intruders. I should’ve fought better. I should’ve defended the lab better….” 
Father sat on the couch in his room, his legs crossed as he observed his son. “I love you, Purple,” he said slowly, “but I don’t want you to be sorry. I just want you to do things right. So, do what you can to ensure this… misstep isn’t repeated, okay?”
Purple nodded solemnly, guilt pooling in his chest. “I promise it won’t. I want to be more involved- I want to help more. I… I held back because I couldn’t… I thought of them as my brothers, not my enemy. I won’t make that mistake again.”
“Oh, Purple….” Father sighed, motioning for Purple to come closer. The turtle did as instructed and was embraced by the older yōkai. “One day, maybe they will come around, and we can all be a family together. I know what it’s like to be backstabbed by your siblings- my own sister tried to kill me as I slept, and we were forced to live separately. It is sad, but your brothers will never be for you when it really matters. But I will always be here for you, Purple. I will never let you go.”
The turtle found comfort in his father’s words and found the embrace they shared warm and protective. Father was like the sun; warm, essential, and generous. Father shared his light and warmth with Purple. The least he could do was share his light.
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wooshofficial · 2 years
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hi woosh. hope i'm getting this right, here, new to tumblr. askgame: can you tell me about clayton legume new new york millennials. i like this guy, i have many a thought, but i want to see what your many a thought are too
HI KITE!!! You’re doing this right!!! And oooooo Clayton Legume Okok
23 and a blend of a bajillion different European ethnicities, but mainly Irish and Dutch
he/him but in a very Not Cis way. The only cis person on the mills is Jana and she gets away with it by being both the mean bisexual and the even meaner lesbian at the same time, Clayton is trans. He’s very casual about it.
Grew up on the Upper West Side, around 70th-95th street, where the money is aplenty and everyone sucks! This includes his parents, who saw the Shelled One as a beneficiary and a supporter of those of Higher Class, and thought the mills were a threat to their financial standing.
His parents are cult founders, basically, but because this sentiment was shared among other collateral across the immaterial plane, there’s multiple branches of this cult that have varying reasons for forming. This includes the LAi branch, who thinks that Peenit was meant to put LA back together. This branch is headed by Clayton’s aunt, who’s daughter is Piper Legume, but we’ll get to that later.
Anyways Clayton despises his fucking family. He hates how his family makes everything about money and looks down on the people just trying to survive and the kids who are learning about and rising against the hardships in the world (which he slowly becomes as he 1. figures out he’s trans 2. realizes he’s not going to be accepted by the world and 3. gets really upset about it). The minute he can he bolts outta there and doesn’t look back.
He goes to FIT on a partial scholarship and partly on money he yanked from his fund that his parents set up for him. He loves design and fashion and especially drag. He visits Lucky Changs frequently and meets people who push him towards the Villages, specifically the West Village (where there are a metric ton of gay bars) and keeps walking east from there because he can feel something pulling at his curiosity coming that from direction. He wants to explore what he was so sheltered from growing up so he follows what almost sounds like a voice
Fucking surprise it’s Loner Shelley. She’s been in the static and between universes for decades now and she wants out so badly because she refuses to let Blaseball take her life away from her, but doesn’t mind the fact that it gave her some weird connection to the different factions of the immaterial plane. So like she’s watching people fall and is getting frustrated and then suddenly she’s in proximity enough to someone who absolutely reeks of Peanut and Rebellion. And she sets a plan into motion.
Back to Clayton. He’s on a bit of a walk on the east side near Stuy Town when he comes across this apartment building. It’s a quaint little thing with ivy crawling up the worn down brick and warm light coming from a couple of the windows. Most of all it exudes this feeling of belonging and love that nothing else has given him before.
Surprise it’s the fucking Apartment. But actually it’s Loner Shelley working in tandem with the Apartment who is in on the plan because WHY NOT
Anyways Clayton is drawn to the place but is like “is this breaking and entering” when the door fucking swings open. The lobby is empty but still feels lived in and appreciated so he goes up the single elevator at the end of it
All the while he’s like “is this weird Blaseball shit. Is this the Shelled One finally coming to kill me for betraying my family what the fuck what the fuck”
So the elevator leads to another warm and lived in hallway with gray doors lining the walls, except for the door three spots down, which is painted a vibrant baby blue
By now Clayton has basically accepted whatever fate that awaits him because he’s too far in now. Doesn’t mean he’s not freaked out. In fact he was gonna see one of his friends perform at a club later that night and now he’s worried that this will stop him from seeing it. Yes his priorities are with his friends. He’s a sap have I mentioned he’s a sap and that the Apartment went along with the plan because he exuded such familial longing that it decided to adopt him on the spot
So he walks towards the door, hears some chattering from behind it, says “what the hell” and opens it.
Four things happen at once:
He walks in on a massive argument between Jana, Benny, Jon, Stan and Duffy over what happens now that they don’t have enough players on the roster to count as a full team
Asuka Guacamole crawls out of the living room TV for the first time
A cat with a piece of paper stuck to its face jumps through the window that was closed several seconds ago
Loner Shelley uses all her power and some from the Apartment to jump into Clayton’s body, promptly making him pass out
It doesn’t entirely work. Clayton still has 90% control of his body, Shelley only has the other 10%, and can only fully gain control of it if he allows her to. Clayton is currently thoroughly freaked out and sort of pissed about the universal plan that only happened because he can’t be rid of his family so he vetos that idea and now she’s just kinda living in his head
Clayton plural momence
Benny realizes, as the guy who keeps up with the team admin shit the most, that Clayton, Asuka, Malin (who showed up earlier) and Alejandro (the cat) are now part of the mills roster, to which all four go im sorry???
But dems da rules man and Benny shows them to the four rooms that the Apartment just made. Play begins a couple weeks later, so Clayton has time to get to know people and also the perpetually tired reporter living in his head and making him lethargic.
The thing about Clayton and Shelley’s like. Situation is that their personalities end up sort of merging and reflecting off each other. Shelley’s monotone speaking and general apathy towards everything morphs into Clayton’s body developing narcolepsy. But on the other hand, Clayton’s passion and drive mixed with Shelley’s athleticism makes him a pretty decent Blaseball player. They balance each other out and end up kinda getting along. They’re not the best of friends but they stopped arguing every 20 minutes!
So that’s how things are until word reaches LAi about a player on the mills with the last name Legume, but that’s going in a reblog because this is long enough already
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iamvegorott · 1 year
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Happy Family Pt. 4 of 8
Unexpected Custody
“We should send out a reminder text to the parents when the buses will be here,” Bing said as he worked on going through the cubbies and ensuring everyone’s backpacks were closed. He also checked that the water bottles got sealed and inside the side pocket properly. Most of them were pretty good, but Bing didn’t want to risk the kids spilling water all over themselves on their first day of kindergarten. The older kids knew the drill but got checked in case a kid needed a reminder. The first day of school always threw everyone off.  
“Should we make a separate text just for the parents of the kindergartners or just send it to the mass one, and those who aren’t affected can just ignore it?” Bim asked, rocking back and forth with one of the infants in his arms, the others having fallen asleep for their early morning nap. 
“Might be easier to use the mass text since we already have that all setup. If we get complaints, we’ll change it for next year.” Bing suggested, pulling out Etta’s lunch box from her backpack and setting a note inside of it that Google had written that morning but had forgotten to put into the box. They both knew Etta was nervous about her first day of class, having said that being in a new place was ‘weird’ and had asked several times if she could stay at the daycare with Bing instead. Google hoped seeing a little note and doodle from him would help her get through the mid-day slump. Bing even added his own doodle on the back that he knew would make Etta giggle when she saw it. 
“I can work on that since this little one finally fell asleep,” Bim said, looking down at the dozing infant in his arms. “Here’s hoping they stay down until after we get the other kids on the buses.” 
“Go knock on some wood before you jinx us,” Bing said with a chuckle, putting Etta’s lunch box back and closing the backpack. 
“On it, on it,” Bim said with a wave of a now free hand and headed for the infant’s room to put the baby down. 
“Perfect timing,” Bing said as Anti came out of the same room Bim entered. He often napped after Dark dropped him off. It never mattered if they were there early, on time, or even late, which was an extreme rarity. Anti always took a quick nap and, as if by magic, knew the best time to wake up. “How are we feeling this morning, Ant?” 
“Good.” Anti gave a little nod and, continuing his usual routine, went over to the children’s bathroom and closed the door. Bing got a little chuckle, knowing that Anti’s routine-sticking personality came from his father. Dark had basically everything written down to the minute, even his bathroom breaks, or at least Bing assumed he did.  He would not be shocked if that got confirmed. 
By the time Bing was done with the cubbies and was doing a lap to check on the kids to see how they were, most were either playing with blocks or coloring. Anti finished with the bathroom, the running water proving he washed his hands and came out. Bing watched as he went straight to JJ and Robbie and joined their tower-making. It was always fascinating how Anti could just play with them and immediately know the plan. He didn’t need any directions or explanation. Bing guessed that those three played a lot with each other since their fathers were very close. The three were practically brothers. While Anti liked his routines, he was still a chaotic kid, and being with the much calmer JJ and Robbie seemed to help him stay calm as well. That was until a different kid tried to mess with Robbie and JJ. Anti then would become the angriest five-year-old anyone had ever seen. Shocking that he’s protective. Dark’s known to be level-headed until someone he sees as his is being bothered. Then all that goes right out the window. 
The same could be said of Etta and Google. 
Bing was pulled from his thoughts when he heard crying from two different sources. He told the other kids everything was fine before heading over to the daycare’s parent entrance, catching that the crying was coming from behind that door. Before he could open it, Yandere, the teenage sister of JJ and Robbie, came in with Penny in her arms, the young girl crying her heart out. 
“Hey, Mr. B.” Yandere greeted as she walked in, Chase following her with Lucas in his arms, the young boy crying like his sibling. 
“What’s going on?” Bing asked. 
“Sorry, sorry, I’ll explain as soon as I can calm them down,” Chase said, setting Lucas down as Yandere did the same with Penny. “Come on, kiddos, do you want to go play? It looks like Henrik’s playing doctor. You can join him.” The twins only continued to cry as if not hearing their father at all. 
“Is everything okay out here?” Bim came into the room. “Are they okay?” 
“They’re not hurt. They’re upset. Like I said earlier, I’ll explain as soon as they’re fine.” Chase said. 
“How about we get you two some juice? I have some apple juice in the fridge you two can help yourselves to. How does that sound?” Bim went over to the twins and held out his hands. At the offer of their favorite drink, the twins, while still crying, took Bim’s hands and let him walk them away to the kitchen. “Fill me in later,” Bim added over his shoulder as they went. 
“Sorry, I tried to get down here as fast as possible. Wilford texted me that Yandere helped carry Penny in?” Google spoke as he walked into the room from the entrance. “Shouldn’t you be at school?” He added to Yandere.
“My first period is study hall, so Dad’s letting me go in late to help get the boys on the bus if needed,” Yandere explained, popping her gum at the end of her sentence and pulling out her phone. “Speaking of Dad. He says to hit him up if you need him. I’m going to go play with the little ones.” She tucked her phone away and went over to where JJ, Robbie, and Anti were, sitting down on the ground with them. 
“I don’t think that last part was on that text,” Bing said, trying to lighten the mood a little before looking at Chase. “Need to talk? We can go to the office. Yan knows to knock if she needs us, and Bim has your kids and the infants.” 
“Yeah…I have some things to fill you in on.” Chase spoke softly. “You can come too.” He added to Google. “I know Bing will tell you anyway.” That comment had a little chuckle to it.
“Follow me.” Bing gestured with his head, leading the other two into the office and closing the door when they were all in the room. “So…what’s up?” He sat on the edge of the desk while Google sat on the other edge. Chase was going to sit in the chair but found himself pacing instead. 
“You know how me and Stacy separated a long-ass time ago?” Chase started, not pausing to let Bing or Google answer. “With that separation, we decided to have shared custody. It was perfect. It got split evenly. We each have enough belongings for both kids, so they don’t have to pack a lot when they come over. We live in the same school zone, and everything was fine, but today she-” He stopped pacing. “She said she didn’t want them anymore.”  Chase rubbed at his face. “It’d be one thing if I picked them up, and she asked for a moment and told me that she needed some help and wanted me to have them more. I get it. Life gets shitty, and sometimes you need time to focus on yourself, but she…she told the kids before I got there that they would not be living with her anymore. That she, and I quote ‘doesn’t want them here’.” 
“She said that to the kids?” Google asked, his voice harsh while Bing was in stunned silence. 
“I don’t understand where this came from, she was fine with everything, and now, out of nowhere, she does this? I tried to ask her, but she wouldn’t talk to me.” 
“She’ll talk to me. Bing, do you still have that bat-” Google got off the desk, and his search for the bat was stopped short by Bing catching his shirt sleeve.
“Don’t.” Bing kept his hold on Google and looked at Chase. “She didn’t tell you anything? Nothing about why she doesn’t want them anymore?”
“No. Nothing. Stacy said she would go to the courthouse and set it up, so I have custody, and she’d pay child support.” Chase felt like his chest was tightening as he spoke. 
“You’re going to let her?”
“I can’t force her to take them if she doesn’t want them. It’ll be worse to have them feel unwanted in their own home. I might as well let her do what she wants and focus on them, but-but I-” That tightening was getting worse and was making it harder and harder to breathe. “I don’t know how-how to take-how to take care of them on my own like this.” Chase was stammering, almost wheezing and coughing like it was becoming almost impossible to get air. 
“Hey, hey, hey.” Bing noticed Chase struggling. He went over and placed his hands on Chase’s shoulders. “Breathe, okay? You’re an amazing father, and you’ll also do amazing at caring for them.” He kept his hold on Chase, guiding him to take some deep breaths with him until the door got knocked on. Bim opened it and peeked his head in.
“Sorry, but we need to start getting the kids ready to get on the bus, and the parents are on their way,” Bim said. “Penny and Lucas are calmer now if you want to get them ready.” He added to Chase. 
“Sounds perfect.” Chase smiled, pushing any emotion of worry away so his children wouldn’t see it. “Thank you.” He added to Bing before stepping out of the room. 
“Everything okay?” Bim asked after Chase walked past him.
“Later,” Bing said with a nod. “Let’s go get the kiddos ready.” He then looked to Google, who looked pissed about what they got told. “Are you going to be okay?”
“Yeah. Let’s go get the kids ready for their first day.” Google sighed. 
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