Tumgik
#Sibling dynamics
theharetic · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Lego Monkie Kid | “You Peach Thief. ”
This is a commissioned piece from @ChopShopT. Please do not repost or reuse this work for anything and support the original artist.
“Stay away from my fruit, Stone Monkey!”
“Well you should learn to share, Bonnie!”
Xī Tiānkōng does not appreciate fruit thieves invading her garden. Sun Wukong thinks she should share.
623 notes · View notes
that-bitch-kat3 · 1 year
Text
sirius: i feel totally useless
regulus: you are not totally useless
sirius, hopefully: yeah?
regulus: you could serve as a bad example
2K notes · View notes
nonymous06 · 2 years
Text
I drew a lil smt for a dtiys
Tumblr media
Also my human designs for the disaster twins cause the brain rot is real
Tumblr media
5K notes · View notes
nekojetto · 23 days
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
I was cleaning my drawings files and I realised I never posted these ones HAHA
Neuvillette is Furinar greatest fan! PLUS my version of baby Neuvillette x)
177 notes · View notes
patg2227 · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media
4K notes · View notes
livrere-green · 9 days
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Fire Hazard Siblings: Zuko & Azula + Tumblr Posts • 1/??
Bonus: what could have been...
Tumblr media
149 notes · View notes
kotoku · 5 days
Note
I really love your post, can I request Sunday and Aventurine with Diona reader?
For Aventurine, I think he will be your close customer in the casino (I don’t know if casino have bar but…meh;) )
For Sunday, I think he will tease you the most, pat head, scratch chin and treat you like a cat… dispite you hiss to stop. (in a tsundere way)
Tumblr media
ꜱᴜɴᴅᴀʏ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀᴠᴇɴᴛᴜʀɪɴᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ ᴅɪᴏɴᴀ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
pairings - sunday & diona! reader / aventurine & diona! reader
content - reader is gender-neutral/ diona! reader/ platonic relationships/ familial relationships/ angst and some fluff
warnings - SPOILERS FOR 2.1 / angst / some characters might be ooc
⋘ ʟᴏᴀᴅɪɴɢ... ⋙
prelude - You are a young bartender working at one of Penacony’s grandest casinos, a bustling place with customers from all corners of the universe. The skills you have when you’re on the other side of the counter are ones you both love and hate. Love, because you took pride in serving customers drinks that are known as the best throughout Penacony, and hate, because alcohol was something your father never ceased to get enough of… 
You built your reputation up from the ground, eventually getting employed as a bartender at the casino where you now work. Despite your age, your skills had convinced the higher-ups and thus you were plunged in front of the crowd of drunken customers, brewing and making concoctions that were outlandish and exotic. The cat ears and tail you had also drew some attention from customers who were enamored with how adorable you were, treating you like some kid (which you were).
After a roll of your eyes and a scolding, you always rolled up your sleeves and got to work. 
Tumblr media
↻ Sunday was not a regular at the bar, but he would pop in here and there to check how business was doing
↻ When word had gotten around that a kid with cat ears and a tail had started working there, his interest got the best of him which led him to a seat at the counter
↻ The mahogany bar counter complimented the lavish environment, filling the atmosphere with a comforting warmth that lured a variety of customers in 
↻ When you had popped up to serve Sunday, he was intrigued at your professionalism and friendliness, finding it easy to engage in a conversation with you as you made him his drink
↺ Sunday rarely intended to get drunk, so he asked for something light and refreshing which you happily obliged to
↻ It didn’t take Sunday long to become somewhat of a regular there, the two of you got along quite well despite his ceaseless teasing 
↺ At first, he’d give you a light pat on the head and buy you things that cats normally like (it was an accident at first but after seeing your distaste for some of the things he got, he started getting them as a joke), then when the two of you were like siblings, he’d scratch under your chin, place a toy mice on the counter before he’d leave the bar, and use a laser to get your attention
↺ He’d chuckle at your fuming self that wiped even harder at a stain on a glass, but he’d know when to stop if it got too far
↻ You know how I mentioned that he’d get you things cats normally liked? Well you’d probably be happy with some of the stuff he got you, like the fish plushies or cat grass which you added to some of the dishes you made
↻ Eventually, Sunday would learn of your father’s alcoholism and how you swore to tear down the alcohol industry, comforting you when your eyes started to water at the thought of your dad
↺ Although Sunday could never understand your exact experiences, he’d do his best to provide you comfort and support whenever you felt down
↺ He wouldn’t meddle in your family’s business or issues, but he’d pray to Xipe for the best of you and your father
↻ Whenever you are upset, Sunday would like to help you come up with new concoctions as he finds the process interesting to watch (it serves as a distraction from whatever is bothering you as you are now focused on potential hits) 
↺ Admittedly, he’d find some of the ingredients you use disgusting, but it wouldn’t hurt to try something new now, would it? (Sunday is utterly surprise at the pleasant taste, feeding into your pride) 
↻ Sunday would support your work, promoting the place to new guests who wanted to try something that seemed like it could only be made in dreams
↻ If Sunday were to ever mistakenly get drunk, you’d happily (and worriedly) take him to Robin or someone he trusted 
-----
“Ugh, Sunday! You drank a little too much this time!” 
“..Sorry… I didn’t realize this- *hic* drink would be so.. strong.” 
The scent of alcohol that wafted off Sunday made your ear twitch in annoyance, putting away the glass that you were previously cleaning. “Geez, I didn’t realize that you were such a lightweight.” You huffed, wiping the counter with a damp rag. Sunday gave a breathy chuckle, head leaning on his arms as he closed his eyes. 
Sunday didn’t seem like he was going to sober up anytime soon. 
Sighing, you grabbed the glass that you had put away and filled it with some water before sliding it over to him. You watched him blink open his eyes which stared at the water droplets that dribbled down the side. Slowly, he carefully brought the beverage up to his lips and took a sip, humming in satisfaction at the refreshing taste. 
“...Thank you,” Sunday muttered, slightly more awake than before. 
You nodded at him, starting to dial a phone number that you became familiar with. 
“I’m going to call Robin to come get you, okay?”
“Mmm.. okay.” 
-----
Tumblr media
↻ Ooh boy… you would definitely not get along with Aventurine that easily…
↻ As soon as he walked into the bar you were working at you immediately felt a bad vibe coming from him, and you were right
↺ He was suspiciously friendly when he first started talking to you, your ears lowering in caution (your ears are a dead giveaway to how you are feeling so Aventurine caught on easily)
↻ Despite the initial suspicion and threat Aventurine posed in the beginning, he soon became one of your regulars at the bar, his order already memorized for when he came in
↻ Aventurine was surprised by how a young bartender such as yourself landed a job here, curious as to what your backstory was like (and the fact you had cat ears and a tail)
↺ Of course, it took time to build up to a more detailed answer from you, but when you told him he could understand your ambitions
↻ As the sibling-like relationship progressed between the two of you, the both of you were able to show a more vulnerable side to the other when the bar was close to closing and was devoid of customers
↺ You’d be wiping down a glass as he droned on about something, drunk out of his mind while you nodded along in understanding
↺ Aventurine took into consideration that you were still a kid, despite working in a bar part of a renowned casino, trying to avoid dumping his sad backstory onto you 
↻ You knew of the reputation Aventurine upheld, seeing him walk around as people scathed at his very existence (Whether it’s due to them losing a gamble or something else, you aren’t sure)
↺ Part of you understood other’s anger, but another part of you felt bad for Aventurine as you didn’t know how he was able to walk around with eyes glaring at you from every angle (He shrugged off your concern and said it was no big deal, but you saw the empty look in his eyes)
↻ Aventurine enjoys petting your head, finding the fur of your ears so soft and well-taken care of, he only pets you when it seems that you’re upset and need some sort of comfort 
↺ Because your ears and tail are a dead giveaway to your emotions, he’s able to pick up on them quickly
↻ When you tell Aventurine of your plans to make a new drink, he accompanies you and brings you potential ingredients you could use in your mixture (He’s perplexed and worried for his health when you add the most heinous stuff into a cup and call it a drink) (Surprisingly and fortunately, the drink tastes pretty good with a hint of bitterness, but he’s just thankful he didn’t get food poisoning)
↻ You’re very grateful to Aventurine when he gets you all sorts of ingredients from other planets, and when he tells you of his journeys, you always eagerly listen with your cat ears perked up when mixing a drink
 ↺ He shows you photos that he took while visiting the places he traveled to for business, the vast differences between each place filled you with child-like curiosity
↻ Aventurine, on certain days, can drink more than he can and ends up getting drunk, laying his head on the counter as he mumbles about all sorts of things (You gaze at him pitifully from behind the counter lol)
↺ When he’s too drunk to get back to his hotel room, you can either dial up someone he knows or have to take care of him until he’s sobered up enough (You can’t carry his ass up to his room lol)
-----
So far, it had been an ordinary day at the bar you worked at, constantly serving the rowdy and drunk customers who came in for different occasions. When the sun had finally started to dim and the streets were encased in a blanket of darkness, lamps turning on to light the darkened streets, you had started closing up the bar. There were only a handful of customers left, seated at the counter with half-empty glasses. Despite the calming atmosphere that surrounded the bar, you felt as if something was missing. 
That’s right, where was Aventurine? He had promised you he’d stop by tonight to get his usual order but he had not shown up at all. This made you feel a little upset, ears drooping down as you gazed at the bar’s door. When suddenly, the wide doors had been pulled out with that familiar bell chime which alerted that there was a customer. Ears perking back up in excitement, you happily made your way back to the front counter.
Yet.. it wasn’t Aventurine, but a person who had gray hair and wore an almost monotone attire. You had never seen this person before, so you curiously watched as they approached where you were after looking around confused. 
“Hello, are you.. _____?” They asked, taking a seat at the counter. You nodded in response. 
“That’s me! Is there something that you’d like to order? Here’s our menu that contains all the different kinds of drinks we serve!” You smiled, sliding a pamphlet over for them to view. 
…But they didn’t pick it up, yellow eyes flickering back up to meet yours. Your mood seemed to dampen, sensing a feeling of dread as your fur and skin prickled up. 
“Ah.. no, I’m not here for any drinks.” The person cleared their throat, seemingly trying to figure out what to say. “I’m just here to give you this.” 
An envelope that was adorned with a familiar stamp design of a chip was placed into your hands, carefully flipping it to look it over. When you looked back up to the person who delivered this to you, they were gone, the door never alerting you of their departure. So with an uneasy sigh, you opened the letter to view its contents, a sense of comfort filling you as you knew who this was from.
‘ Dear _____,
I wanted to take this final opportunity to say ‘goodbye’ as I won’t be visiting any time soon. I am sorry that I had to leave you on a cliffhanger, but with this letter, I hope you can forgive me, I do not have much time before the grand finale happens here in Penacony. 
Meeting you was a fortuitous encounter and I am glad we became friends, I rarely come across those these days. Thank you for the comfort and safe haven you have provided during my stay here, I am greatly indebted to you. I sincerely hope that you succeed in your ambitions and that despite any hardships you come across, you pull through with an impenetrable determination. 
As I don’t have a lot of time before my departure, I wanted to keep this letter brief and simple. I am not sure when I will be back, but I am hoping that this bar with your presence will serve as a safe harbor for me to return to. 
I bid my final adieu to you, my friend. 
Your dearest friend, Kakavasha ‘
When you had finished reading the letter, you had quickly raced outside to find whoever had delivered this letter to you. But as you ran up and down the streets of Golden Hour, you could find no one in sight, the only company being the occasional passing vehicle. 
With a sob, you plopped down on a bench, not bothering to care about your job at the moment. Where had he gone? What did he mean by ‘grand finale’? These questions endlessly swarmed your thoughts as you tried to wipe away the tears that continuously fell from your eyes. There was no doubt about it, that in some way Aventurine or Kakavasha had departed from this world. This realization had overwhelmed you with emotions of both anger and sadness, balling yourself up with your tail wrapping around you as you cried.
Yet through the tears and grief you felt in the moment, you felt an unrelenting drive to do your best at the bar. You will wait for your friend to come back and when he does, he’ll have a lot of explaining to do. 
-----
⋘ ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇ! ⋙
146 notes · View notes
leodehurlvant · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Atsushi went from 0 to 4 siblings by the sheer power of association
238 notes · View notes
glassesfreekjr · 11 months
Text
Can we analyse Tulin for a bit?
Apart from being the keet birb boy, perhaps what makes his character so enthralling is how it so brilliantly reflects and offers commentary on the influences that have shaped him.
Whether that be Revali, his father Teba, and ESPECIALLY Link. Hell, it's no wonder that Link & Tulin have garnered such a sibling dynamic. Tulin essentially IS Link, from a time before the burden of responsibility and pain caused Link to cave in on himself pre-Breath of the Wild.
Right down to the veteran warrior father figure (Link's father was captain of the guard) and their acceptance of a newfound legacy out of forthright integrity. Tulin, at this point in his life, has yet to give himself away until there's nothing of him left to give, and let's pray he never needs to.
But Tulin would do that in a heartbeat, if called upon. He is very much his father's son.
You can see it in how archtypical childish spunk is tempered, like steel, by Teba's down-to-earth bluntness and sheer work ethic.
(BTW I wonder if Link sees his own father in Teba? That'd check out.)
But what caught me most pleasantly off-guard is Tulin's skepticism, which has become one of his most compelling traits for me. It's not something you would expect.
He did not believe that the Stormwind Ark existed, and while ultimately proven wrong, it frankly wasn't an illogical assumption to make. Tulin clearly thought through that opinion. He'd also grown frustrated that the Rito placed their faith on a songbook miracle — a eucatastrophe, if you will — instead of something more concrete like personal skill or, say, Link's whole-ass existence.
The second Link arrived and offered his aid, Tulin accepted his help without hesitation. He turned his skepticism inward to reevaluate his own tenets. And it's as a duo that they brought about said eucatastrophe through no one's strength but their own. They are siblings, Your Honor. Aryll 2.0
(If Revali had been blessed with a support network saying "it's okay to accept help. no man is an island," doubtless he still would have perished in Vah Medoh. But there would be less of an ego to shatter. He would have faced death with less blind panic and more dignity. And most importantly, he'd have other people to bolster the wind beneath his wings during his short life. (At the very least, Revali would not have as big an ass not be as big an ass, just as Tulin would be a different person without his family.)
dammit quaquaval you have RUINED me
Also, one thing that everyone seems to miss is just how deceptively intelligent Tulin turns out to be. This kid fuckin' knows his stuff. His mastery of aerodynamics beyond the instinctual is almost on par with Revali at such a young age. And how many precision headshots has his avatar saved your ass with, don't lie.
He somehow managed to follow his father back through time. Tulin can see Koroks.
It's not the same kind of passion-fuelled intellect as, say, Zelda has. More of an unyeilding conviction to learn all he can and put it into practice. About as understated a quality as Yunobo's inexplicable business acumen and economic sense.
As his mother Saki put it, for Tulin to develop as an individual, he needs to experience more of reality and its hardships. Shooting bullseyes and improving one's flying prowess / wind magic can't contend with genuine combat. True to her word, Tulin had to experience mistakes firsthand, and critically examine his own naïve ways of thinking in order to take those necessary steps.
...
So then, uh, is it wrong for me to wish something horrible upon him, if only to witness the positive character growth that springs from it? Tulin isn't the sort who'll shatter under pressure, like Revali did at the end of his life, or like Link did under the weight of expectation. Buckle, yes — but not break. Tulin's steadfast conviction, inherited from his father and guided by the people he loves, would assuredly see him through.
In any event, his Hero's Journey isn't close to over. I'd be curious to see Tulin at its conclusion.
tl;dr I wanna Emesis Blue his bitch-ass, AITA?
761 notes · View notes
icequeenlila · 7 months
Text
The youngest sibling when they realize they are about to lose the sibling play fight:
Tumblr media
359 notes · View notes
justaturtleindisguise · 11 months
Text
BANDAID DUO !!!
Tumblr media
my little trans kids, why are u so clumsy and silly
516 notes · View notes
xdacted · 6 months
Text
The art of sibling hood
Paring: sister!Reader & Charles Leclerc
Warnings: angst, fluff, hurt/comfort
Word Count: 3,815
Status: Complete
***Request made by reader***
Summer break offers us a sliver of peace. 
No teams are calling, no coaches screaming, no clients to take care of - there is nothing but family. For a few weeks out of the year, all we have is each other. I can’t ask for anything better. 
We all gather at our mother’s house, hiding away there with her. It’s nice, to all be under the same roof again, we haven’t been since Lorenzo first moved out. It only worsened when I decided to take my training to France. 16 years of living under one roof was gone in an instant. We had lived together our entire lives until that point. 
It was like losing a piece of myself. 
But then, after the sadness rolled away, I was filled with so much joy. To know that both Charles and Arthur were chasing their dream, to see them every weekend battling it out on the track. Though my mother refused to watch, I always did. 
But there is always more I want to know, more I want to see. I can’t help myself from asking questions. The countries they see, the people they meet - it’s a world I’ll never know. I almost got involved, my father put me in karting as a child, but it was never my passion. Not the way it was with Arthur and Charles. I found my calling in school. 
At six, I was sitting among my classmates in the gymnasium, watching as our instructor introduced the sport of fencing. He was trying to start a club, with a school as small as ours, it wasn’t very likely to happen. 
He brandished the swords, explaining the rules. My friend, Anies, had fallen asleep on my shoulder, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away. I was transfixed, hooked. That day, I ran home, with the club papers in my hand and begged my parents.
At first, Papa was hesitant, telling me that this sport was a fighting spot - I wasn’t a ‘fighting girl’. But I pleaded, hooking my arms around his neck and staring up at him. This was my dream. Fencing was racing to me. Fencing was everything. 
What I didn’t understand was that fencing was also incredibly expensive. With two children karting and one in fencing, I remember the night I caught Mum and Papa talking it over, they couldn’t afford it. 
I was lucky enough to be given a scholarship by a fencing club, I would have the funding to chase my dream. Arthur, however, was not so lucky. I remember how he cried, screaming and howling into his pillow. He mourned the loss of his sport, but he was never angry. Just sad. 
I shake off the memories when Charles calls my name. 
“What?”
He looks at me, staring at me from his seat on the floor, arms holding his knees close to him. He and Arthur are playing some card game they explained more than once - but I have never cared to learn. Arthur glares at the cards below him, flipping them over in his hand.
He laughs, “I asked how training was going?”
“Good,” I burrow further into the couch, pulling a blanket across my shoulders, “When I go back, I have a tournament in Italy.”
“Well,” Arthur huffs, still fixed on the game, “You’re already a World Champion - Ugh! Charles, you’re cheating! This is why I hate playing with you!”
Charles throws his hands up, turning to Arthur with an indignant expression, “I am not a cheater. I am a man of honor, you just suck.”
With a curse, Arthur throws his cards down. 
He stands, “You’re a cheat and you know it.”
“You just don’t know how to lose.”
Arthur throws himself beside me, moving the pillows so he can lean against them, crossing his arms in front of him. I don’t have to hide my laughter, I let it slip from me. The laughter is easy, the tension from yesterday gone. Charles had still been insistent on apologizing, even when I told him to just drop it. 
My brother is one of the kindest people in the world. 
“What about you?” I dare to ask, offering Arthur some of my blanket, “How’s Ferrari treating you?”
I don’t need to ask because I already know. Even from across the world, every Sunday, I watch him. Every Sunday, I watch my brother get into that car and put his life on the line. And every Sunday I watch Ferrari screw him over. My teammates were getting far too tired of my outbursts. 
Charles clears his throat, looking down at the cards scattered across the floor. He sweeps them together, shuffling them, “Fine.”
“Fine?”
I’m stepping on thin ice. My brothers like to assume that when it came to racing they knew everything, but I had grown up around this. My father was a racer and now my brothers were racers - it was in my blood. I had just chosen not to pursue it. 
“Yes, fine.” He pushes himself up, standing and walking to the edge of the couch. 
“If you say so, brother,” Charles opens his mouth to speak, but the sound of the doorbell cuts him off. 
He practically leaps over the couches, nearly tripping over the carpet, to throw the door open. My mother hardly has time to scold him as she steps inside her room because cheery voices are ringing out through the house. 
“Hello!”
Lorenzo comes bounding from upstairs and Arthur rolls off the couch, kicking the blanket away from him. The three women who step inside the house bring the light of the shining sun with them. 
“Girls!” I cry, it has been so long since I’ve last seen them. 
Carla sees me first, throwing her hands in the air. She pushes past Arthur to sweep me into a hug. The position is awkward, as her body curves over the couch and I attempt to reach up to her, but I can feel her laughter vibrate within her chest. 
“Did you get in today?” Her eyes are shining and the glasses perched atop her head threaten to fall, “Why didn’t you text me?”
“I wanted to surprise you, of course!” When we pull away, Charlotte and Alexandria are right beside us. 
“We need to get breakfast while you’re here,” Charlotte says, pressing her hands together. It isn’t so much a request as it is a plan in motion. 
I just nod along. I look around, my brother’s waiting behind them with crossed arms and a less-than-pleased expression. 
“What?”
“They’re supposed to be here to see us.”
“No,” Charlotte says, wrapping her arms around me, “We’re here for her and of course - Pascale.”
“Hello, dear,” Mum says, Carla placing welcoming kisses on her cheeks. 
I turn to my left, Alex having taken a seat in the open space that Arthur left. 
“Hey,” I whisper, pulling her close. 
“Hi,” She whispers back. 
There’s something different. I can tell when she hugs me, pressing a kiss on my cheek. When we pull away, there’s a glow to her skin and a twinkle in her eyes. 
“Is there -?” 
Charles is draped across her in a second, gentle hands on her shoulders, “She is my girlfriend. Please, do not be selfish.”
Alex only rolls her eyes and I can’t help but follow. 
What a drama queen. 
__________
I watch Charles and Alex as Mum bustles around the kitchen. It’s little, but something is different. I can feel it. Something about the way Charles has an arm curled around her waist or the way she clings to his arm. They keep eyeing the rest of us, Alex turning around to whisper in his ear. 
Hm. How strange. 
Alex was quite shy, this much became evident when I first met her, but she was by no means afraid of the family. Just a few weeks earlier she had come to visit me in France, we spent the day together and had been texting each other constantly. 
What could it be?
I met her eyes and she sharply turned away from me. 
A secret then. 
Papa liked to say that I inherited Mum’s gift for reading people, especially my brothers. Even when we’re separated by seas, I know when something’s bothering them. I know when something is wrong. 
But this - this was different. 
I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. 
But, my mind can help but wonder, what if - no. Could it be?
“Arthur.”
He hardly looks up from his phone, “Hm?”
“Wanna make a bet?”
“What kind of bet?” He asks, still scrolling. 
I lean in closer, “I think Alex is pregnant.”
Arthur nearly drops his phone. He whips his head over to look at me, mouth agape, “What?!”
“Sh!” I smack his arm, he is going to give us away, “You’re so loud…”
“Why do you think she’s pregnant?” He whisper-shouts, “That’s crazy. Charles would’ve told us.”
“Maybe he’s going to tell us tonight,” I shrug, pulling away from him. 
“Are you in or out?” I crossed my legs, my gut feelings were always strong. I’d guessed many things over the years and felt a change within the people around me before they told me. I’d known Charles got signed to Ferrari before he told us, or that Arthur was going to be moved to F2, or that Lorenzo had met someone new - all of these things, I’d felt. All of these things I guessed. 
Maybe I was a bit psychic. 
“You’re on,” He stuck his hand out, “€10?”
I scoffed, “That’s nothing - €100.”
“You could be wrong.”
“I could be right,” I looked down at his waiting hand. 
“€50?”
I slapped my hand in his, “€50 it is!”
“You’re going down,” He whispered, squeezing my hand. I kick at his shin.
“Ow!”
“That’s what you get, dumbass.”
“LANGUAGE!”
__________
Dinner is an easy affair. The time ticks by slowly, but none of us mind. Warm and laughter fill the house, everyone staying at the table after the food has long been eaten. Stories are tossed around and jokes float about, it's peaceful. 
A peace that’s so very addicting. 
Here, I can forget that I have to leave in only a few days. I can tell that the boys forget too, throwing themselves over Mum and the table. Arthur laughs so hard that he snorts and Lorenzo’s jokes have Charles reduced to tears - it’s all so nostalgic. 
As we eat, I can see Charles and Alex glance at each other, watching as he scoops her hand in his. She whispers something in his ear and he nods. 
Before I know it, they are both standing. 
“I,” He clears his throat, “I have something to say - well, we do, actually...”
“Well,” Alex begins, a bright smile pulling over her face, “Charles and I are expecting a - a child.”
The table erupts into cheers and exclamations. Mum drops her head into her hands, and before we can rush over, she looks up with tears in her eyes and a dazzling smile on her lips. We stand to offer them hugs and kisses, pats, and words of encouragement. 
“I told you!” I cry. 
Arthur lets out a loud groan, pushing his face into his hands, “Why?”
Confusion is written across their face and I can only laugh
I hold out a waiting hand.
With another groan and a roll of his eyes, he shoves his hand into his pockets, pulling out the €50 I’m owed. The bill is crunched and he drops it into my palm with little fanfare. 
“This is so unfair,” Arthur throws his arms around my shoulders, “How could you have possibly known?”
“I just do,” I shrug, looking up at him with a smile, “I’m just that good.”
“I knew it,” Carla giggles, “You are a psychic.”
I lock eyes with Mum over the table, she flashes me a smile.
“Of course,” I say, “I learned from the very best.”
__________
The ocean calls our name, the lull of the tides and the crashing of the waves. Such a beautiful song and we can do nothing but dance to it. With the sun shining down on our backs, we pile into Charles’s boat, clinging to the railing as we push away from the dock. The salt of the air tangles in my hair, and gentle winds give us a beautiful day. The weather was perfect, the sea was calm. What more could we ever ask for?
We spend the day lounging about the boat, pushing and shoving each other in the water. I manage to convince Charles to let me take the smaller boat out for a spin, with Carla clinging to the seats, and Charolette cheering us on from the deck above. I can’t help but dissolve into laughter at his face, twisted with worry. 
The water is cool against our heated skin, it invites us in for more. The longer we stay, the more we forget about the world that surrounds us. It is nearly enough to make me forget about my flight in only a few days. I will have to leave and this will all become a memory. 
But what a beautiful memory it will be. 
I can’t dwell on my thoughts, because Charlotte demands that we all jump. There is little fanfare for Charles and Lorenzo as they practically wrestle to the sea below. Arthur grips my hand as we jump, throwing ourselves into the Moncao air, caught by the arms of the sea. 
It is perfect. It is home. 
When the sun begins to dip in the sky, my mother draws herself up from the couch and claims that dinner will not ready itself. The others agree and begin to shuffle off but Carla and I are the last to get back from the boat. Though Charles has always held the title of ‘captain’, I have always maintained that the sea is but a little requirement for boating. We stayed behind to just lounge about in the sun, only coming back to the house when she got a frantic call from Arthur, telling her to come back. 
“What’s…” The words die in our throats when we see Alex huddled in the corner, sobbing into her hands. Charlotte stands over her, rubbing a reassuring hand over her back, whispering something into her ear. 
Before we can say another word, Arthur and Lorenzo interrupt us. He pulls us into a corner of the house, wiping his hands on his shorts. His eyes dart around the room, lip caught between his teeth. 
“What happened?” Carla demands. 
“It - it was the press,” Arthur manages, “They got pictures from earlier, on the boat.”
I need to hear little else. I dig my phone from my bag.
Finding the photo doesn’t take much work. It’s there as soon as I open Twitter, Alexandria and Charles standing on the balcony of the boat. Her hands on her stomach, nothing there to show - not yet - but the implication is enough for the media to run with. 
I can hardly breathe. 
Anger coils tight within me. 
Fucking vultures. 
Carla gasps from beside me, pressing a hand to her mouth. The headlines make my stomach turn. Far too atrocious to look at, I shove my phone back into my bag. Carla is quick to slip from beside me, rushing over to the couch, and dropping to her knees beside Alex. 
Haven’t they gone through enough? Have people not thrown Alex into the fire already? Had they not already ripped her apart? I remember the articles and the tweets when their relationship went public, the look of sadness on her face. People hated her simply because she loved Charles. How they got together and why they got together was no one’s business but their own. 
“Where -” I cut myself off, dropping my voice lower, “Where’s Charles?”
For a moment, Lorenzo doesn’t answer me, phone in hand. I can’t tell who’s calling, but the grave look on his face is all I need to know. He shakes his head, dragging a hand through his hair. 
“He’s outside,” He whispers, sparing a look over at Alex, “He stormed out and won’t come back in.”
“Of course! He’s upset!” I hiss, this was private. This was personal. The media has taken that away from him. 
Lorenzo holds his hands up, “I’m not saying he shouldn’t be - I’m not saying that I’m not,” He sighs, “But this is more - this is more than just…”
He looks away, rubbing a hand over his face, “He can’t run from this now.” 
I turn away from Lorenzo and the tears begin to gather in my eyes before I can gather the courage to force them back. I wrap my arms around myself, afraid that I might throw something across the room. 
This wasn’t right. 
Summer is our time. 
There is never any anger, never any sadness. That’s the world that waits beyond the walls of our home, that is the world we leave behind. We shut it all out because summer break is just us. I don’t realize that I’ve begun to dig my fingers into the flesh of my arm until Arthur yanks my hands away. 
He doesn’t say anything, just squeezing my hands in his. I can’t look at him, but I feel his gaze on me. When he releases me, my hands drop back down to my sides. I suck in a large gulp of air, trying to calm the pounding of my heartbeat. 
Before I can make my way to Alex, Charlotte stops me. She holds her hand up, a sad smile on her face. 
‘We’ve got it,’ She mouths, ‘Go.’
Her eyes flicker to the terrace, doors closed tightly. I can see, in the shadows of the darkness, Charles. 
“I’ll be back,” I whisper, reaching out to squeeze Arthur’s shoulder before I walk towards the doors. 
I gently push them open, waiting for Charles to scream out that he wasn’t privacy, that he needs space, but he never does
I step through. 
Charles stands out on the balcony, hands clutching onto the terrace railing. He stares into the swaying trees of our backyard, the melting sun casting a glow around the shadow of the house. Though the wind blows, there is no twinkle of windchimes. There is no echo of laughter or memory of youth, there is nothing. The light from the entry room spills across his back, but he doesn’t turn. 
The silence is thick, sitting heavily atop the both of us. With his back turned to me, I can’t see his face. There’s a selfish part of me that never wants to. I never want to see the pain and anger on my brother’s face. I never want to watch his heart fall apart before me. He is my family, an extension of myself. 
“Why can’t they just leave us alone?” 
His voice is hardly above a whisper, nearly consumed by the distant sounds of the city, but I hear. It cuts through the silence, piercing it with ease. There is sadness in his voice and I can feel the tears burn once more. His shoulders slump forward, a heavy sigh leaving his lips. For a movement, I fear that he might collapse. 
I take a tentative step forward. 
My brother is many things. Charles is competitive and rash, he is hard-working and self-deprecating. But he is also kind and forgiving, with a smile like the sun and a laugh like the sea. He is good. Our Papa used to say that Lorenzo and I got all the anger and bite, as it never seemed that Charles could hate, to be spiteful. 
Always the first to take the blame, always the first to vouch, always the first to arrive, always the last to go. 
My brother is good. 
And the world is cruel. 
“Charles,” I whisper, he doesn’t turn.
I reach for him, my fingertips barely grazing the fabric of his shirt, “Charles.”
He finally turns, biting his lip, tears in his eyes. The words die in my throat. There is nothing I can say to fix his pain, nothing I can do to take his unhappiness away. It kills me. They may be my older brothers, but I have always been fiercely protective of them. To hurt them was to hurt me - and to hurt them was unforgivable. 
And Charles. 
Charles, who flew through the night to catch my competitions. Charles, who cheered me on, even if he knew nothing about fencing. Charles, who always had an extra Paddock Pass for me. Charles, who always let me have his last cookie or pastry. Charles, who held me when I wailed for weeks after Papa’s passing. Charles put the money he earned in Formula 1 into getting Arthur back into carting. Charles, who always called to scream ‘Happy Birthday’ in my ear. 
That Charles. 
My brother Charles, would forgive. He will see it as a mistake, he will blame himself. In only a few hours, he will make a statement and tell the truth - because that’s just who he is. 
I throw my arms open and catch him as he falls into them. 
He doesn’t cry, not at first, just clinging onto me. But then, the moment that Alex’s cries drift onto the open terrace, he begins to weep. He sobbed into my shoulder, pressing his wet face into the fabric of my shirt. He clutches my hand, and I can do nothing but hold him. 
I hold him and let him fall apart. 
From over Charle’s shoulder, I see Arthur peeking out at us. He wrings his hands, twisting his fingers around. He can’t sit still, pacing around the room, brushing Carla away when she tries to calm him. 
I gesture for him to come and he does. 
Before I can say a word, he’s wrapping his arms around Charles, burying his face into his back. 
“We’ll fix this,” He mumbles, “I - I don’t know how, but we will.”
Charles doesn’t speak, he just searches for Arthur’s hand blindly in the pile of libs and holds on. It’s all we can do. I feel like I am 15 years old, losing our father again. It feels just as it did then, unbearable. But we do just what we did then, we hold each other. Clinging onto the only people that we have known since before we knew them, the only people that will love us even when no one else does. 
The only person -
Lorenzo is there, strong arms trying to tuck us all into him. I can feel his warmth against my back and push my face into his chest. 
“We’ve got you, Charlie,” He says, “We’ve got you.”
We do. 
We always will. 
_________________________
A/N:This work has been cross-posted on Wattpad and AO3. All are under the name XDACTED. Thank you for reading and feel free to request fics about any of the drivers <3
190 notes · View notes
the-bar-sinister · 17 days
Text
I'm going to be brutally, bluntly honest and vulnerable for a moment.
I don't have any positive familial connections. I don't have any mothers or fathers, or sisters or brothers or aunts or uncles or cousins who were supportive, or caring, or loving, open or gently teasing to me.
That's why I don't understand at all what people are feeling when they say "I can't ship them, they're like siblings!" or "he's like a father to her" etc.
I can't look at a relationship between two characters-- who are not blood related-- who are supportive, caring, loving, dependable, open or gently teasing and see a relationship that somehow feels romantically taboo.
I look at a relationship that is caring, loving, open, teasing, comfortable, etc and I see romance.
I genuinely don't have a yardstick to evaluate what people are seeing when they see a relationship like that and it makes them uncomfortable to ship because it reminds them of their family. I don't know what that feels like.
And that's why I ship so many things that people call "sibling coded" or "found family" etc. Because I don't look at them and see family.
I look at them and I see the people who saved me from my family.
101 notes · View notes
nonymous06 · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media
they do be napping tho
Also an extra doodle I did;
Tumblr media
It’s just the twins being idiots ft my design headcannons for Donnie
3K notes · View notes
Text
You know Dick is the oldest child by being cursed with siblings that outgrow you
72 notes · View notes
rlqfpdl · 2 months
Text
How not to lose a brother, no glue no borax
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Hermes!fem!reader x Hermes cabin
Summary: luke betrays camp and you don’t know what to do or how to feel anymore. Luckily your siblings seem to be there for you.
Contains: pure angst!!, hermes sibling dynamics, SPOILERS for last Olympian, takes place during the titans curse/battle of the labyrinth. Not really a happy ending? Character death.
A/N: hi guys this is my first ff on tumblr hope you like it. Slightly (or mostly) inspired by the ‘no glue no borax trend’ on tik tok.
Word count: 1.2K
Tumblr media
You would think that a cabin like cabin 11 always felt alive and full of people, yet you couldn't help but feel like the loneliest girl in that there. The dull brown walls felt suffocating, but the thought of leaving them seemed even more terrifying.
 “Come on sis you’ve got to leave your bed someday,” said Connor, carrying a tray of food. He sat on the footer of the bed and looked up at the girl. Being the closest in age–just one year apart– Connor was your rock and your partner in crime. 
You slowly sat up and grabbed the small bowl of strawberries from the tray. “Maybe Hypnos is my dad,” you said sarcastically while wrapping a blanket around yourself. Maybe Connor was right. It was time to touch the grass and wash up a bit. 
“That would be a shame, I can't afford to lose another–'' he cut himself off before messing up big time. You shifted in your seat uncomfortably, eyes getting watery with the thought of him again. The old Hermes cabin counselor. 
You were there that day when the iris message arrived in camp. Luke, your older brother, confessing to poisoning Thalia's tree and betraying camp. It wasn't as if the news only affected you; every single one of your half-siblings couldn't believe it. It had explained why he didn't arrive at camp that year or why Chris wasn't there to annoy you like always. Oh wait, that meant Chris also left. You were never the same again.
you were merely 10 years old when you first arrived, being claimed by your father as soon as you stepped foot into camp. Connecting with your other siblings in an instant, especially with Luke. You looked up to him; he was the older brother you never had growing up as an only child. He taught you how to use a sword and how to utilize your abilities to their full potential. It was fun to steal the camp store with your siblings, a weird bonding experience for sure.  Being a year-rounder also meant spending more time at camp, which also meant getting to know Luke better than most of your other siblings. 
Truly, nothing prepared you for such a harsh reality check. You blame yourself for not seeing the signs after his quest; the constant waking up in the middle of the night screaming in fear. the sudden harshness towards others, slowly disconnecting from camp. Sadly, you started to blame your father for everything–how he treated Luke, how he treated you, and how he seemed to not care for the pain you felt. 
“Y/N Travis told me not to tell you but they found Chris, He's alive.” Your eyes widened with shock, you knew Chris wasn't dead, but the thought that he was no longer with Luke made you worry even more. At least if he was with the enemy, he was still with his brother. 
“Where is he?” you said, getting up, ready to travel to the depths of Tartarus just to see him again. 
“Wooh, hold your horses, he was brought back to camp but, he's not in the condition you want to see him in,” Connor said, a slight shakiness to his words as if he had seen Chris, as if he was hiding something. 
“What do you mean by that? I don't care about that I just want to see him again” You were starting to get angry. You weren't the same immature 10-year-old from before. You could handle this, or at least you wanted to believe you could. 
Connor got annoyed. He knew better than to go against his brother's wishes, but he thought this news could bring a smile to your face, a smile long forgotten. “Travis was right; I shouldn't have told you,” He said, getting up from your bed, about to leave the cabin. He couldn't afford to dwell on these things. He now had to be head counselor, thinking about the course of action the camp would take.
 But you ran, catching up to him, grabbing his arm. You felt compelled to know this information; he was your brother. “You and Travis can't keep hiding things from me. I am not a child anymore. Don't you think it hurts me every day how I lost my brothers or how I might lose more in war " Tears were threatening to spill out your eyes, your legs felt weak from not walking in such a long time and your emotions could no longer be contained.
"See Y/N, that's the thing. You're so blinded by your pain. Don't you see the rest of us grieving? Don't you see how Julia and Alice have stopped with their pranks? How me and Travis have to be in charge of this damn cabin with no guidance.” you had never seen Connor actually get angry before, He was the camp clown he played pranks on people, he made people laugh, he didn't make them cry. 
“You're not the only one hurting, Y/N, Understand that '' he finished off pulling his arm away from your grip. The tears you held on to finally started to spill, It was true you could be selfish at times, but you couldn't afford to fight with your siblings; it was the only thing left in your life. Alexa, one of your sisters was the one to bring you food that night, not seeing Connor until after the campfire, very clearly annoyed and avoiding you after your little spat. 
You knew tension was high in the cabin but you didn't stop to think it was this bad. You were so caught up in your own agenda that you didn't see how you could all fight at a time like this. You had to have each other's backs. Everybody a camp loved Luke; that was a fact, but nobody felt the true betrayal of a sibling like you guys did.
It had been a year now, and you and your siblings found yourselves on Mount Olympus embracing each other and sobbing as you saw your poor brother die. “He died a hero,'' they said but that still didn't stop the pain. It was enough to see him betray camp, witness so many demigods die in battle, see Chris go mad from his days in the labyrinth, see camp slowly dying. Now there was a dagger still inside of Luke. 
You missed the times you played poker in cabin 11 or made chocolate chip cookies (his and your favorite), sword fighting, everything. You've only met your father a few times; you couldn't help but blame him for so much. Yet here he was with you guys equally as sad, Travis swore he saw the old man shed a tear or two. It made you laugh slightly when he told you that, not that it was something to laugh at,  just the thought of a god showing emotions seemed foreign. 
It was funny how grief brought you all together, more united than before. But still, that didn't mean you could look past Luke's actions and the pain you felt. Maybe someday in the future, you would understand where he was coming from, but for now, you couldn't help but cry those feelings and thoughts away. 
84 notes · View notes