#family angst
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IV ! Mom, am I still young? Can I dream for a few months more?
✎ Synopsis ! You've been thrusted to carry the burden of the eldest after his passing. ( First | Second | Third | Fourth | Fifth )
Content & warning Jake sully x Daughter!Reader, Sully kids x Sister!Reader Neytiri x Daughter!Reader. Mentions of death and violence! (wc; 4070)
Song: Class of 2013, Mitski.
A mother’s love is of all things.
“You start from here,” Her gentle hands moved across the cloth as she showed you how to make the first stitch, her voice encouraging as she patiently talked you through every step. You listened to her instructions, your tiny fingers following every gesture, but your mind drifted off to somewhere and Neytiri was well aware of that.
"Mama, how much longer will this take?" You whined, your lips pursed in a pout as you discarded the rag. It was taking far too long for your liking and you were more than ready to be finished, but your mother's stern gaze was enough to stay put.
“Until you finally get it.” She sighed, knowing well that you wanted nothing but to run to your father and Neteyam. Neytiri could see clearly that you wanted nothing more than to train with them, learning all that Jake had to teach, and while she was relieved that you were so eager, she couldn't help but feel a little left behind.
You furrowed your brow as you looked down at the mangled fabric in front of you, feeling frustration coursing through your veins. "I don't like sewing," You sighed quietly to yourself, trying to undo the mess of stitches and start again from scratch.
A mother’s love could be quite petulant. Neytiri could feel the insecurity settling at the pits of her stomach, thinking about how his mate was doing a much better job at parenting. She was never able to keep you in one place, always wriggling uneasily on your chair and asking for the time so you can go, so she was often left with no other choice than to give into your demands and watch as you ran away from her.
It was silly, you were just a child– what child wouldn't want to be outside where the world was theirs to explore?
With another sigh, Neytiri placed a hand to your shoulder in understandment. She gave you a gentle squeeze, “You know where your father is, go on.”
A mother’s love could be fiery– burning brightly like a wildfire in her heart. It was a force that drove her to do anything she could to ensure the wellbeing of her children, even if it meant making difficult decisions that brought pain to herself.
When you once came home, battered and bruised, of course she did not relent.
“What was the only thing I asked?” She carefully tended to your wounds, despite the frustrated tears streaming down your face. With a sigh of exhaustion, she reminded you in a rough whisper, “To be careful!”
“I don’t let you run off with your father and Neteyam for you to carelessly train yourself,” She continued to scold you, “Now look at you, do you know how long these bruises will heal?” you hung your head low in shame, not wanting to meet her angry gaze. You felt guilty for making her worry and were immediately overcome with remorse.
“For this, you are not allowed to train for two weeks,” She said sternly, “Not until these heal, you understand?”
“But mama,” You tried to change her mind, but the look she gave was enough to let you know that she wasn’t going to tolerate any argument on the matter. You begrudgingly nodded your head in agreement with a frown.
“I love you, ma’ite,” When you didn’t reply, her heart sank a little. She knew you would resent her for this while the duration of your punishment stretches on, but she was only looking out for you– besides, there was no way she was going to let you train all sore. You’d understand when you’re older.
Neytiri would do anything if it means everyone would be safe.
A mother’s love is of all things, but above all, the love she had rooted from no other else but her own children.
When you once came forward with a present, she was curious. It wasn’t like you didn’t lend any gifts at all, if anything, you were the most thoughtful with giving; always coming home with trinkets from your training, colorful beads from a lazy stroll, or even rocks with the weirdest of shapes. But you were most excited with this one, a smile growing every second as you waited for Neytiri to grab the wrapped box.
“What is this?” She had her eyebrow quirked up high in curiosity, a tiny smile fighting to stay suppressed.
“Open it, come on!” You squealed, trying hard not to open it yourself.
“You made this?” She said, looking at the well-made shawl– actually, it was messy. The stitches weren’t as straight and there were holes larger than the others, a few smaller, but the ornaments sewn between the threads were no doubt from you. To her, it was the most beautiful thing ever; it was from you.
“I did!” You beamed, chest puffing out proudly, “Well.. maybe I cheated a little. Grandmother helped me, but all the beads there are from me! See those?” You excitedly gestured to each and every trinket, going with great detail into how and where you got them. She asked questions along the way, marveling at how eager you were to tell her of your adventures.
While you were keen on your work, her eyes were only on you, listening intently.
“So.. do you like it?”
Neytiri burst into a fit of giggles as she embraced you tightly, her head resting against the little space on your neck. “I love it, Ma’ite– I love you.” she whispered softly.
You returned the hug, “Does this mean I’m done with sewing?”
“Don’t push it.”
It didn’t matter whether you were with Jake most of the time– she wanted to tell him how wrong he was to tell her you were a daddy’s girl. Neytiri received a shawl from you– a shawl. It’s safe to say that maybe you loved her a bit more than Jake.
While her love was indescribable, there were no exact words for her anguish too. When Neteyam died, it was nothing but loss. No mother should have to bury their child. It weighed heavily on her– so heavy, a piece of her died along with him. Neytiri felt it in every pore of her being, a dull ache that could never be filled no matter how much time passed.
Neteyam, her first born and first loss.
The same anguish was apparent on you too and she wasn’t blind to that fact.
You were carefully tending to the different herbs on the corner of your pod. You placed them in the mortar, crushing it with a pestle between your fingers and frowning with concentration. You had asked Neytiri if you could stay behind and help with chores and while she did need an extra pair of hands, it was also an excuse to get out from training for the day.
Neytiri knelt beside you, her grip on your hand preventing you from mashing the already mashed ingredients in the bowl. She looked into your eyes with genuine concern, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “What’s troubling you, ma’ite?” She asked softly. You sighed heavily in response while setting the bowl down slowly.
When you didn't answer, she asked again. “Neteyam?” Your breathing hitched and that was all the answer she needed.
“It’s been over a month already,” You started, unable to look at her, “I don’t wanna mourn anymore. I don’t wanna cry– Tuk, she,”
“I know. I heard.” You were struck with a wave of embarrassment as you abruptly turn to face her, realizing now that you weren't as silent as you had wished that night. You shook your head, trying to push down the shame.
“I’m the eldest now and she’s tougher than me, it’s really a slap on the face.”
Neytiri sits in front of you, taking both your hands in her own. She looks at you steadily with a piercing and gentle gaze, “Have you ever thought that maybe the reason why it isn’t letting you rest is because you haven’t mourned him properly?” Unable to process her words, you look up to her with a confused expression, beckoning her to continue. “All you have ever done is cry– blame yourself for what has happened. That is not mourning, you are simply wallowing in self-pity.”
“It’s not easy,” You quickly interject, shaking your head with a hint of frustration.
“And it’s not supposed to, but you’re here trying to stop yourself from feeling.” She soothes the skin of your hands with gentle rubs, trying to calm you down. “Have you ever visited him after what had happened?”
She was met with only silence and again, it was all the answer she needed. With a heavy sigh, Neytiri gently pulls you closer to her, “Ma’ite, maybe it’s time you talk to him. You aren’t letting his soul rest either,” She whispers, “You’re making him wait.”
“I’m sorry.” You murmur, burying your head into your mother's arms. Despite feeling a little embarrassed by the sudden display of emotion, you can't deny the comfort it brings. Neytiri holds onto you tightly, as if she too needed this moment just as much as you did.
After a few more minutes, she nudges you softly, “I’m going to get more herbs,” With another kiss to your temple, she squeezed your shoulders and stood up.
Neytiri’s words hit you hard– she was right. You have never put an effort to visit your brother, let alone talk to him. The realization was like a punch in the gut; while you were trying so hard to put as much space between you, Neteyam remained waiting.
You had to talk to him, had to tell him everything before your heart could hold no more. It didn’t matter if he was angry anymore, nor if he would have blamed you for what had happened. You missed your brother– missed him like a little kid.
You stood up, taking your woven satchel– but before you could take another step out the door, Jake enters with a disheveled Lo’ak behind; it was clear that he got into a fight, the bruises on his face and body was enough to tell. “What was the one thing I asked?” Jake asks, scanning the area to check if anyone had followed them, “The one thing!”
“Look, dad. Ao’nung was picking on Kiri,” Lo’ak defends himself, his shoulders slumped in defeat. “They called her a freak.”
“And you! Where were you? Weren’t you supposed to be training?” His tone is harsh and demanding, cutting off any chance to interject. Jake turns to you, livid, “I catch you over here slacking off while this knucklehead is giving them a passage to kick us off the island– Jesus Christ, you’re the eldest now!”
“I’m sorry, sir, this is my fault.” You replied, unable to meet his gaze. “I should’ve been keeping an eye on everyone.”
“Damn right. I catch a break for one second– one second!” He continued to berate and you could only hang your head low. “You’re supposed to be like Neteyam, but ever since we got here, all you’ve done is disappoint me. You disappoint me, __.”
“But I wasn’t just slacking, I was helping with–”
“I don’t wanna hear it.” He immediately turns back to Lo'ak. He badly wanted to come to your defense, but something about Jake's steely gaze made him think twice. His lips quiver as he struggles against the urge to speak, feeling frustrated. “Go apologize to Ao’nung.”
“It’s not fair, dad! They were–”
He quickly dismisses him like he did with you, “Go make peace. I don’t know how, just go.”
Lo’ak was the first to move, his footsteps heavy as he walked out. Before you followed, you glanced one last time at Jake, trying to look for any trace of remorse in his eyes. All you found was the same stoic expression. With a sigh, you trudged behind your brother.
Once you both were far enough from your Marui, you quickly grabbed Lo’ak’s wrist, stopping him from walking further. “Stay here,”
He gave you a perplexed look as you firmly held him, “I’m supposed to be making amends.”
“I’ll do it myself so for once, stay here and just do nothing.” Your mind was clouded, absolutely heavy from your father’s words. With another frustrated sigh, you let go of him. “What were you thinking?”
“What do you mean?” His tone was laced with a mixture of guilt and defiance, shoulders tense.
“You know damn well, Lo’ak.” The laugh that erupted from your mouth is menacing– mean. You grabbed his shoulders and spun him, forcing him to look at you. “You didn’t have to do that.”
He quickly shrugs your grasp away, his gaze downcast. Lo’ak couldn’t bear to even glance at you, not when you’re looking at him like that. It was so unlike you to be angry, usually you were the most patient– understanding. Right now, your eyes held nothing but exhaustion and it was like you were a different person yourself, morphing into someone he terribly misses.
God, he misses his brother. Now that he’s gone, things are a lot worse– he didn’t even know that it was possible to feel more alone. There was no one who’d put on an effort to cheer him up despite him royally fucking up, no one to mess with his hair, or to stand up for him. With Neteyam, he was sure he understood him so well– with Neteyam, he was still a child. Lo’ak swears he also died that night, heart buried along his back at home. His younger self has not stopped crying ever since, shouting at him, asking, “It’s our fault again, is it?”
“You would have done the same,” He tries to reply with the same fierceness, but his voice is breaking. “Maybe if you were there, you would have even thrown in a punch too–”
You spun him again irritatedly, “But I’m not like you. It’s different here, you understand?” Your voice was getting louder– growing absolutely desperate with every word. “You aren’t thinking!” That stunned the both of you and you couldn’t help but feel a nauseating deja-vu the moment it left your mouth. It was familiar, oh so familiar it hurt.
“What has gotten into you?” Before he could wait for a reply, you had already stormed off, leaving him right in the open.
It wasn’t hard to find Ao’nung, being the olo’eyktan’s son made him stand out easily. They were at the shore and unlike Lo’ak, you could see how they’ve gotten the end of the punches more badly. You tried not to visibly wince at the huge deep-purple bruise forming on his face and the others littered all over his body– yikes.
You knew he deserved this. Ao’nung wasn’t the kindest ever since you had seeked uturu so you couldn’t help but feel a sense of satisfaction. Despite this, he didn’t relent.
“I’ll forgive you once you are able to ride an Ilu,” he said, and his friends snickered from behind, “But you still can’t, right? What would father do if he hears that none of the Sullys’ had gone out to apologize.”
You clench your fists, digging your nails into your palms as they continue to ridicule you; you wanted to retaliate with the same harshness Lo’ak had, but you knew you had to keep composure. Oh Great Mother, the urge was strong. “All I have to do is ride an Ilu?”
“Don’t bother,.” He scoffed, harshly jabbing his fingers into your chest, “You’re funny if you think that I’ll ever save you again– it would be one less freak from the clan.” Everyone broke out into a fit of loud laughter, taking turns in mocking you.
“Consider us forgiven then.” You said firmly, pushing past them and marching towards the sea.
He called for you to stay back, but you couldn’t just stop now– not when you have already mounted your ilu. The salty ocean air filled your lungs as you surveyed the horizon, the waves crashed on the rocks and it was evident that the water was fiercer. It should’ve been enough sign for you to pocket your pride and relent.
As you made the bond, you embraced the creature, trying to steady your breathing. “Just this once, please? Please, please. Save me from embarrassment.”
It was a foolish decision to act out of spite, especially after you had been trying for well over a month with no success. You knew there was little chance that this time would be any different, but the impulse drove you forward and you just couldn't let go. As the ilu surged ahead with reckless abandon, you held on more desperately than before.
You were struggling to keep the creature in check. The strong waves made it even more challenging to stay on top of the situation, but you pushed ahead determinedly with an iron grip that was sure to leave your hands sore. Suddenly, your hard work seemed to pay off as the ilu started slowing down under your control, enough that you could relax a little.
As you emerged from the water, you couldn’t help the shout escaping your throat as the other’s stood ready near their own ilus. Whether the smirk from Ao’nung’s face was of disbelief or if he had been genuinely impressed didn’t matter to you, all you could feel was a surge of pride burning through your skin. You flipped him off, peppering your ilu with much deserved kisses.
“Come on, let’s go further,” You talked to her, encouraging her to keep moving forward, where she replied with an eager yip.
You were absolutely thrilled– it had been a grueling month and the anticipation was nearly too much to bear. The thought of finally riding an ilu was almost too exciting for words. Although you preferred the forest, you’d be a big fat liar if you denied the beauty of Awa’atlu. You’ve been dying to explore– you felt like a kid again.
As you continued to ride forward, with not a thought in mind, you would not have expected to be found so easily.
It was almost night time and everyone was getting ready for dinner inside. Jake waited at the entrance of the Marui, sharpening his dagger as he waited for you. He glanced around impatiently as he tried to ignore the spiraling uneasiness in his stomach.
“It’s getting cold, ma Jake.” Neytiri called for him, rubbing his back soothingly. “Wait for her inside, she’s probably on her way home.” She had noticed how anxious he was growing as the sun started to set and the dark night began to creep closer. It was even more obvious when he hadn't moved from his spot in front for hours already, frown deepening.
“I failed as a father, Neytiri,” His voice emerged from his throat, strained and raw. He had done all he could, but it seemed that his luck had truly run out. Now that he faced the truth of his failures, he was filled with bitter regret and a deep sadness for what could have been– of what he had to lose. “I look at them and I feel like I’ve already lost everyone.”
Neytiri kneeled beside him, curling her arms around him in a comforting embrace. “You only did what you thought was best,” she whispered softly.
“And yet, I managed to make things worse.”
“Just talk to them, ma Jake,” She gave him a stern look, squeezing his shoulders, “It hasn’t been easy for them either.”
“I know that, but–” The crackling of the line made Jake wince, but he could make out his daughter's voice beneath the static from the other line, and the urgency in your voice made his body jolt– a familiar dread that brought him back to that fateful night when you desperately called out for Neteyam.
“Can someone hear me?”
The searing heat was unbearable, even when you were surrounded by nothing but water, it scorched your skin the same. The village was rising from the ashes of an unforgiving fire, the island surrounded by familiar ships. Your eyes mirrored the flames that engulfed the area and you were unable to look away— unable to move.
Your fingers frantically felt for the device tucked on your ear, pressing on its button, hoping someone would answer– pride be damned, you even hope that it would be your father.
He stood up, instinctively grabbing the gun from his side, “__? What’s wrong, baby girl? Talk to me.”
“Dad, Sir, a village!” Your voice nearly drowned out, inaudible from the deafening sound of waves thrashing towards you and your ilu. You were holding onto her for dear life as the salty water stung at your eyes, blurring your vision, “A village is on fire!”
“What? Where are you?”
Neytiri stood sharply beside him, her eyes wide with fear as she desperately tried to hear your voice from the intercom. “Jake, what’s happening? Where is she?”
“I don’t know– I don’t know! I rode my Ilu too far. Dad, there are ships! Sky-people ships, plenty!” You spoke rapidly, your words tumbling out of your mouth faster and faster as the panic built up inside of you. You were becoming increasingly anxious, with every passing second more fearful than the last. “They’re here sir, they found us.”
Jake’s heart plummeted there and then.
“They’re hurting them– they have them at gunpoint, what do I do?” You continued to hurriedly talk, explaining the severity of the situation. It was nauseatingly terrifying, a sickening sensation that had taken root in his stomach and clouded his mind with nothing but overwhelming fear. “I– I have to do something, anything! Please, tell me what to do.”
“Listen to me, listen to Sempu alright?” His voice is gravelly, like he hasn't been able to catch a breath in what feels like days. Jake was desperate as he wanted to tell you this wasn’t about you proving yourself anymore, acting on behalf of your brother’s loss. This was solely about him wanting his sweet daughter back, safe and sound. “Don’t look at them, for the love of– please, get out of there now.”
“But dad, I–”
“I need you back here, please baby girl, please.”
However, you and him did not stand on the same ground, hearts paced on different pages. All you saw were the people; their safety and well-being had to come first and foremost. You had to save them, had to do something to avert the danger. They were innocent and above all, helpless.
To Jake, all he could think was of you, his sweet daughter, caught in a wildfire.
“This is an order, __. Turn back now,” It was the only thing he could do, instill authority in hopes it would make you deter. “I’ll alert Tonowari of the situation. It’s not a good idea to barge into face-first and vulnerable, you hear me? What are you gonna do with all their guns and people? Turn back. Now.”
And it worked. Only now were you able to let out the breath you kept for so long, finally averting your gaze and looking down in shame. “I hear you, sir, I’m,” With one last look, you gulped. “I’m heading back.”
“Good. Don’t let them see you.”
As you reconnected with the Ilu, you pleaded it to take the lead and guide them both back home. You could feel her emotions racing through your veins, her fear undeniable as she witnessed others of her kind slaughtered mercilessly by the shoreline. The bond between you was overwhelming and unsteady, so much that it almost took all your energy just to keep yourself from dissociating from her.
Before you could submerge below the safety of the waters again, your ilu begins to bellow loudly in distress. Its body thrashes around, making it hard for you to hold on. “Mawey, mawey!”
More static could be heard from Jake’s intercom, the noise turning more and more deafening. He tried to make out anything from the sound, but all he could hear was white noise. You called out for him one last time, before the pager turned off.
“Jake, please, where’s my daughter?”
When Neytiri lost her eldest, she didn’t think she’d lose another one so soon.
☆ mauve here! this was such a pain in the ass to finish, so hopefully i did this chapter justice !!!! i would love to interact w everyone here, so please don't hesitate to drop by my asks! i also accept requests <3 i would very much appreciate it. lots of love!
Tags: @eywas-heir @aonungsmate @cappsikle @dearstell @minkyungseokie @wwwellacom @aleracrovn @fangzyz @bobojojoba69 @alohastitch0626 @gcldtom @dumb-fawkin-bitch @navs-bhat @jo1818 @ladylovegood-69 @kahlowy @neteyamforlife @mochiivqi @heart-an0n @strnqer @abbersreads @historygeekqueen
© avatarkv, do not repost.
#mauve writes ☆#family angst#sully family x sister!reader#jake sully x daughter!reader#neytiri x daughter!reader#neteyam x sister!reader#lo'ak x sister!reader#kiri x sister!reader#tuk x sister!reader#angst#avatar#avatar 2009#avatar the way of water#neteyam brainrot#neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan#jake sully#reader!sully
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Heyo! Anyone want some Lin Fanart? :D
Here you go!
I'd like to think this is right after Suyin hurt her and Lin may or may be blinded 👀💧
I'm not exactly good with expressions but I wanted to show Lin in both pain but also the anger and hate in her eyes.
All art belongs to me. If reposted plz credit!
Accidentally written a little one shot that's horrible. I meant to take a nap but just sat in my living room typing this and munching on food!
Enjoy- tho I doubt it'll be good 💀
Suyin would undoubtedly be upset she hurt her sister, but wouldn't be prepared to see this expression. An expression she's never seen on Lin before and is possibly ingrained in her mind forever.
Suyin would go to help Lin but Lin would refuse to let Suyin any closer and literally build a wall preventing Suyin from getting close.
Toph shows up and asking what happened, comforts Suyin upon feeling the little ones erratic heart beating all before Suyin tells her mother she's sorry and that Lin's hurt.
Toph goes to see what happens and all she hears is Lin barking at the healer to just do what they can and a slam of a door closing. Toph could sense something is wrong with Lin and can tell she'd faint at any moment if she don't step in only for Lin to hold her hand up at her mother and tells her, "Not now."
Before Toph could say anything Lin tosses her metal coils down on the ground and telling Toph that they'd need to be upgraded and that it's best for everyone in the facility to get them reworked.
Lin's face begins to swell up, the blood is trickling onto the ground and the healer helplessly following Lin around as she's barking orders but is starting to sway and almost faint.
Toph ends up freezing Lin in her place with her metal armor just to help the poor healer out and demands Lin to tell her what happened.
Lin straining too much and only just begins to fall to her knees as she can't fight against her mother in the state she's in, her heart aches, her face feels in agony and she feels ready to fall asleep.
The next thing she knows, she wakes up in a dimly lit room. She could smell the incense and the sandal wood and the light smell of spring in the air. She could hear yelling down the hallway between her aunt and mother, Suyin screaming that it was Lin's fault and of course the numbing pain on Lin's face.
She knew what happened and knew how bad the wound was. She didn't need a healer to tell her how bad the wound was because she felt it, could already sense her other senses strengthening.
With a sigh the metalbender slowly turned her head which made the blood in her head pump and practically caused her brain to ache as she tried to look out the window.
It took too long for Lin to focus and could see the sun had set a bit ago. She'd sit up and leave if she could but just the thought of it hurt Lin's head and she didn't want to go through that pain.
"We don't arrest family!!"
"And look what happened! Agni Toph, Lin got hurt and Suyin's in shambles! I'm not asking you to arrest Suyin I'm just asking you to help her. Ground her! She needs a mother Toph, not an absent one!"
"If I need any advice from you I'd ask! It's just a scratch, Beifong's don't get hurt!-"
"Mom?-"
"-And what do you know about raising kids Sugar Queen? Your two oldest couldn't wait to leave you and where are they now?!"
"-Aunt Katara?-"
"-That's not fair and you know it! They're grown up! Let them do as they and ex- you know what? Forget it! Since you're blind to see what's in front of you I'll tell you! Lin hates you and you don't know why! You're so concerned about your job, about your name, about your position, about metalbending that you forgot what's important!"
"And what's so important huh?!"
"That Lin is important too!"
The silence is what stung Lin the most. Maybe it was the hesitance or maybe the fact that her mother took a whole 10 seconds to finally respond. It was enough for Lin to realize her mother never saw Lin on any level of importance in a very long time.
"So what. She's a big girl, she doesn't need me. She didn't need me when she started tying her shoes, she don't need me now."
Lin sighed felt tears prickle in her eye before quietly crawling out of bed and out the window. She made her way down to the beach and sat down mauling over her aunt and mother's words.
Maybe her mother was right. Maybe Lin was the first to start pushing everyone away. Maybe she forgot what family was. It would make sense why her mother and younger sister were close and how she wasn't. Maybe Lin stopped being apart of the family once she realized she was nowhere near the same as them. When she was the one ruining their fun and becoming a "party pooper."
And even if that was true, even if it were very much apparent, it didn't hurt any less. People used to tell her how much her mother and her were alike. Nicknaming her Little Toph or Tiny Beifong. That she was going to be just like her mother and become a great metalbender.
She thought that since she looked like her mother, became an officer like her mother, bent the same stones as her mother, that she and her would share a bond. A bond that no one would understand but them.
It hurt her once Suyin was born, it was like Toph and her clicked right away and suddenly Lin wasn't Little Toph anymore. She became Miss cranky pants or miss you're-not-Suyin's-mom. She was no longer little Chief but an annoyance to her and her mother. A nag that ruined the fun.
The more people saw Suyin and Toph together the more they said Suyin was exactly like her. Rough, abrasive, strong, stubborn and a powerful metalbender.
A metalbender. Lin just realized why her mother favored Suyin over her. It was because Suyin was a great metalbender. Maybe that's why she loved Suyin more than her.
Lin ran her fingers through the coarse sand and stared up at the moon. Was she always this different? Was she ever in the spotlight to begin with? Lin didn't know but she knew she'd have to accept that she'll never be good enough. Even as she thought these things, Toph was probably taking care of Suyin because she was upset.
Maybe one day Lin would be a true Beifong and everything will be fixed. One day where she was just liked her mother and sister and they could be happy. One day where she didn't become a buzz kill.
Maybe one day she'll be a great metalbender that was worth her mother's time. She just hoped it was soon rather than later. She didn't want to be the only one left behind.
#nerds#art#lin beifong#queer artist#lok#chief beifong#fanart#nerdycanible#lok fanart#suyin beifong#toph beifong#family angst#lin beifong tlok#lin beifong the legend of korra#suyin beifong tlok#suyin beifong the legend of korra#toph beifong tlok#toph beifong the legend of korra#lins scars#lin gets her scars#kind of a fic#maybe a one shot?#idk#lin beifong angst#lin beifong one shot#pain
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alejandro knows his parents do not love him.
still, he thought -
he hoped -
that they would still pick him up after total drama. even if he is a failure, he is still their son, still their responsibility -
don't even talk to us. you are a disgrace.
well. alejandro is almost an adult, but almost is not enough.
his parents have abandoned him, he lost the money, he trashed his reputation on international TV for nothing, he... he...
he kissed noah last night.
that was nice. but he cannot crash at his maybe-boyfriend's place indefinitely when things are still so new, still so fragile.
so he is back to where he started. waiting for someone who will never come.
he hasn't told anyone else that. why would he? why would he admit that his parents have finally cut him loose, finally made it explicit how much they do not care, finally crushed his foolish hope that one day, they will love him -
to anyone, let alone a bunch of people who hate him?
to noah, to prove that he is ultimately unlovable to the one person who might actually stay, who saw through him but still saw someone worth pursuing?
it was a pipe dream, thinking that winning a reality show could trick his parents into loving him. but total drama had accepted him over jose.
for once, for once, he had been better than jose.
none of that matters, now.
families - not his family, never his family - turn up for his fellow contestants in droves.
some are awkward -
heather scowling at her parents' faux cheer -
cody being ignored by arguing parents -
some are not.
he sees noah whisked away by a loving mother and sisters. he doesn't go over.
a part of alejandro wants to, but they only kissed last night. it is too soon, too much.
still, his heart aches.
the day wears thin, the sun setting over the horizon.
alejandro has some money. he will figure something out.
he will.
now, if only he can get the water out of his eyes.
but then -
then -
someone does come for him.
someone he has not seen in years.
carlos.
carlos smiles at him. his hair long, his shirt untucked.
alejandro rushes forward and hugs him, closing his eyes.
thank god.
#rambles#alejandro burromuerto#total drama#angst#family angst#background#alenoah#my writing#canon divergence#carlos burromuerto#BROTHERLY FEELS
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The little one needs a role model and none of the others can even give him that :(
#alan becker#ava the second coming#ava the dark lord#ava the chosen one#ava victim#angst#family angst#animator vs animation
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Anybody order some Jefferson and Aaron angst😁😁😁 CUS I AM DELIVERING IT HOT AND FRESH 🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️
Also give me Aaron and Jefferson background or give me death!
_______________________________
Aaron sat on his motorcycle in the private alley behind his and Jefferson’s new studio apartment since they've moved operations from Harlem to Brooklyn. Snowflakes whisk around in the swift chilly breeze, its just start to stick to the ground as sleet. Aaron's Prowler gear is hidden under his bomber jacket as he checked his messages, refreshing over and over again but the top one still remained that same.
JD: 210, grabbin beer rn. Game should be on channel 12.
Code for: Urgent, meet me at 9pm at the base.
Aaron glances at the glaring 8:57 at the top of his blackberry. Sighing as he fully parks and cloaks his bike before using the fire escape to make his way up. There he finds his older brother pacing nervously, four black and milds burned to the plastic nub, he anxiously shakes a blue can of spary-paint and some jagged design that Aaron can only describe as panic personified is on the far wall that conceals some gear.
"JD! What the hell man? Had me buggin', Cottonmouth give you some BS or something?" Aaron asks, coming over and clapping a hand on his brother's shoulder. Jefferson blows his current cloud of tobacco high out of Aaron's face before squashing the tip out and adding some flawless circles to the piece.
"I…Ri…we gotta get outta this shit bro." Jefferson bumbles for a moment and Aaron frowns a look of confusion.
"What? Fuck is you talking bout ? What about Rio?" Aaron asks and Jefferson groans and flops to the floor, letting the can roll away. He gives no care to his white hoodie as he sags against the wall of wet paint. Aaron feels creeped out by how young and dumb his brother looks at the moment. Like he's 15 and not 25. He doesn't like it at all.
Aaron squats down next to him and tries to pat out the glassy look in Jeff's eyes. His brother starts to breathe heavily, panic bubbling.
"Rio is pregnant! Like with my baby and I…."
"Damn." Aaron slides to fully sit and Jeff slumps forward and rests his head in his hands, forcing his own head between his knees and thring to steady his breathing. One of those recenter-ing tactics that Rio showed him probably.
"Jeff, if y'all need money fo-"
"She's pregnant wit my kid and Cottonmouth just had us stalk out and scare that one lady who was pregnant and what if that was Rio and-and that fucked her up. We've busted houses and collected in places with kids before what-wh- STOP!" Aaron shakes Jefferson's shoulder hard and the broader of the two of them sits up ramroad straight.
"Calm down nigga, you doin' that spiraling shit that Rio was talking about JD!" Aaron tells him loudly. He gets up and digs around in one of the drawers at the kitchen counter before pulling out a blunt then grabbing a forty of Olde English. He dumps the self medication in his brother's lap and Jeff just huffs and looks at it.
"So, Rio is pregnant. Is she too far out or something for the clinic? You know all we gotta do is call Bunky and she'd find a hanger lady for her."
"Fuck no! I'd never endanger Rio like that, fuck you nigga!" Jefferson curses as he pops the bottle and swings back the first quarter of it. Aaron holds his hands up to disengage him.
"Don't shoot the messenger for the truth bru. With the way you've been sloppy with Cottonmouth's and that new dude King's menace missions lately. I'd hate to have a vulnerability like that. We're getting to a new level in the game bro, that ain't just jacking bank trucks and doing snow drops anymore. A baby will fuck it up. And Rio will not be for this shit. Hell, she might even snitch you out when she finds out that your money from "Security" work ain't so clean."
"Rio would never snitch on me." Jeff glares and Aaron laugh around a puff of the blunt then passes it over.
"Yo girl not mine. All my pussy know what kinda life we live. Live the life we live. Work how we work. You the one who went over to the Heights and got a PR princess that's smarter than you in two languages. Rio's gonna learn the truth if y'all go through with a baby." Aaron tells him and Jeff continues a hard stare to the floor.
"... and just what should I tell her, Master Splinter, since you're so damn wise." Jefferson chuckles darkly with another deep drink. Aaron rolls his eyes.
"She's 23 and just graduated nursing school. She shouldn't fuck her life up with a baby and a bum nigga."
"I'm notta fucking bum!"
"Pretend Jefferson! Either give her the cash to get rid of it and y'all continue on. Or drive her off. She doesn't know the shit we do and we both know what it's like to be raised in the game. Hell, Cottonmouth knowing we brothers is already a slippery slope. You havin' too many folks you care about, known about? Will end up with them dead, we know this. It's why sissy stays down in Jacksonville and mind her own business. Prowler and Lurk have nothing to do with Lady Blue. Shit like that, keeps all of us alive." Aaron reminds him. Jeff growls out in frustration and drives a fist into the plaster of the wall. The blue target he painted earlier crushed within it.
"Fuck!"
"Jeff, what th-"
"What if I don't wanna do this no more."
Both brothers go quiet at the slurred confession. Jefferson gets up and finishes the bottle, Aaron sighs as Jeff rolls the wide bottle between his hands.
"JD le-"
"I don't wanna do this no more. It isn't helping anyone. It's not good for us. I-I keep seeing… keep seeing the eyes of those kids scared outta they minds because I have they daddy or mama's head bashed into the kitchen title. I'd never hurt a kid but… do they know that? What if, they saw me just on the street taking Rio out somewhere or just in the Bodega.."
"That's why we wear a mask, Jeff. Calm the fuck down."
Jeff let's the bottle roll to the floor. He goes to his closet and throws his black and red costume to the floor. The mask isn't much really. A dark red base with three horizontal black lines over his brows, nose, and mouth. Red circle lens adjusted to his prescription over the eyes.
This mask is the face of Lurk. Where Prowler dragged claws behind him to make up for his lean from. Lurk's knuckles were studded, they would beat and beat and beat fear into whoever was his assignment.
He hasn't killed anyone yet. Just destroyed lives. Scarred people. All for money.
Jeff didn't want Lurk's face over his anymore. Not when he saw the most beautiful thing in the world in the form of a gray blob on a sonogram.
"I feel like the baby is a boy, mi vida! I know we have to wait a few more months to know but…I just know!" Rio teases as Jeff snuggles her belly while they rest in her bedroom. Her belly barely has a pudge past her usual shape. She's only a month and half along in the pregnancy at this point.
A person that is half of him and half of the angel who landed in his life three years ago. Who already had a big head for 9 weeks and Jeff's heart in their hand.
"He's going to be a smart baby! I used to like reading, you know, if I had the time, then maybe. But lately, I can't seem to keep a book out of my hands, I crave them like Maduros! Isn't that funny Jeff?"
His son. Does Jeff really want to be part of a world that is already so cruel? A world made scary because of guys like him and Aaron? Is Jeff even a real man to have Rio bring his son into a life like that, just like his father had done for Jeff and his siblings.
"You're too pussy to wear this mask JD. Too weak to be Prowler. Look at your baby brother, Aaron does what needs to be done for real success. He's a real man, he can pick up the claws but you? A waste of muscle, you're gonna be a goonie all your life. At least your sister is a business woman. What the fuck are you?"
"She's 4 months along." Jeff whispers and Aaron shoots up at that.
"What! Why did you wait so long to tell me?"
"You were on a long mission. I didn't want to mess you up when you were on such a touchy mission."
"Jefferson! Be fucking forreal bro!"
"I am! Gotdamit, I am! I'm….I'm done Aaron. Rio had an appointment today and I was staring at that grainy ass black and white picture and… my son, he's beautiful already. Not even here yet I… I can't have him in this life… Miles deserve better. I deserve better… even you and Brynn. Dad was so fucking wrong for putting us into this shit. We deserve better! We need to j-"
Jeff is cut off from his ramble by Aaron punching him in the face. Jeff quickly takes him down right back, the two physically fight. Knocking into the walls, into the coffee table then to the floor. Jefferson pins Aaron under him, one of his knees painfully drives one of Aaron's shoulders to the floor while Jeff struggles to peel Aaron hand from around his throat.
"Why you always gotta prove dad right! You're fuckin weak, you ain't no damn man. You ain't logical!"
"At least I ain't playing dress up in my daddy's damn clothes! I'm tired of this goon shit!" Jeff yells before wrenching Aaron's hand off and twisting it away. He jolts when Aaron cries out as a sickening pop echoes through the room. He scrambles back at that, hands shaking, whatever highs they had somehow chased crashed in an instant.
He just hurt his brother. His damn baby brother.
"Aaron… Ronnie baby… I-"
Aaron lets it go with a strong exhale. He breathes in again and holds his wince as Jefferson carefully brings him to a sit, then leans him against the wall. Its plaster crumbles even further around them, probably asbestos.
"Just shut up Jeff. Just shut the fuck up!" Aaron yells out as he tries to breath through the pain of a shoulder twisted out of socket. He breathed deep, real deep, pulling at the sense of numbness their father had taught him how to do on his first kill missin. To stop him from shaking with pity for a human being (sympathy, empathy, he didn't want to fucking do it but his dad had never shown so much pride). Pity halts a clean kill and a big payday.
Jeff takes Aaron's swift punch to the chest, right above his heart. It winds him up a little. He lets Aaron do it again.
And again.
And-
"Dad gave us this. We're legends to the crime world."
"We are their favorite goons and that's it."
"Fuck you, Jefferson. Put my shit back in place and get out then."
"..."
Jefferson does as such. With a swift and practiced tenderness he puts Aaron's shoulder back into place. Slips it into a brace and hands his baby brother painkillers and anti-inflammatories custom from Doc Ock. Aaron drinks it down with half of the last forty in the fridge.
As Aaron simmers on the couch, Jefferson rolls up Lurk's costume and studded knuckle dusters in a bulky bundle. He sets the keys to his motorcycle on the kitchen counter along with his business only burner phone. He gets to the door and looks back at Aaron who stares coldly ahead at the 10 o'clock Breaking News broadcast. Some big name witness that would have broken a cartel case has been found dead. Thoats gouged out, nearly decapitated with clawed slashes.
"Your cut is in the trunk." Aaron says, his voice all soft, deep, and robotic. Jeff closes the door, he numbly makes it down stairs. He floats as he gets into his Cadillac and drives across Brooklyn to Jamaica Bay.
He burns Lurk to ash, the mask and embers impression in the fire before he buries it in the sand. Jeff lumbers back to the car and opens the trunk. Sure enough, there in a black duffle bag is Jeff's cut of, 75,000$. A one-third of the mission price him and Aaron did a joint job on. That was always the deal with the Davis siblings. Everyone gets one-third. Even Brynn taps a PO box twice a month with profit from her blow and information business. They send her their one-third back to her laundered through jewelry.
Jefferson throws up behind the car. Flashes of blood, crushed in faces, broken limbs, slurred pleas through broken teeth, a screaming child crying for the parent Jeff was crushing in his hands, dance through his mind at each retch.
He leans against it after a few minutes of that then rests his forehead to the cold metal of his car. Praying it cures his fever of alcohol and emotions. He can't believe how warm and flushed he feels. The snowflakes melted instantly and join the sweat on his forehead and neck.
"¡Ay bendito! Jeff! You've got to learn how to regulate yourself better, papá!" Rio would chide him for being so worked up this late at night. Or this early in the morning. It was nearly 1 am.
He closes the trunk on the money. He knows he'll need it. He got an apartment to buy, a home to stock and a nursery to make now.
Aaron wakes up sore, and aching. The TV watching him and the world is white and bright through the window. The weather lady drones about last night's blizzard. He goes through the motions of resting up, thanking God Jeff pulled all that foolishness during his down period after the mission of the night before last. He pads into the bathroom and takes the hottest shower possible, careful to clean his face and hands of dried blood.
He cringes in the mirror but applies a bandage to the cut over his cheek and rubs cooling salave over the bruises. He pauses at the grainy black and white photo of something with a big ass head tucked in the corner of the bathroom mirror.
In Rio's loopy handwriting with a white maker she's made a text bubble in the empty space next to the baby's head.
"Hey Tio' Aaron :D! I'm Miles!"
Aaron huffs, lips twitching up before he washes his face and head back to the couch to have the rest of his beer for breakfast. As he dips his head back he ponders that grainy photo, ponders a childhood of being raised to follow their fathers footstep into the legacy of mercenary work. Jeff is too fucking soft, their father handed them the skills of success on a freaking platter and he's letting a Spanish Mamí and a baby stop that?
When nephew' gets here, I'm just gonna drop some stuff off to Jeff for congratulations and then I'm bouncing to Philly for a bit. Yeah, forget New York for a while. Forget Jefferson and what he swears I deserve.
#miles morales#1610 miles morales#spiderman across the spiderverse#spiderman into the spiderverse#spiderman across the verse#jeff morales#uncle aaron#aaron davis#miles morales angst#aaron davis headcanon#Aaron Davis angst#jefferson davis#Jefferson Davis angst#family angst
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Like the old times — Scaramouche .
📏 really light angst , big brother!Scaramouche + little sibling!reader ; platonic
Notes ; reader is 12 while Scaramouche is 15 in here.
⎙﹒Rules | masterlist
Scaramouche felt a piece of crumbled paper got thrown to him — it had been like this for a good one minute and it's starting to annoy him so he decided to pick on of the papers and read it.
‘is your sibling alright? I heard they're in the hospital. -Heizou’ Scaramouche reads the paper and he scoffed when he finally finished reading.He doesn't like it when someone asks about his family.He quickly wrote back for Heizou.
‘Mind your own business.They're definitely alright at the hospital.’ in reality,he isn't even sure if his sibling is really okay or not.But that letter will definitely convinced Heizou they're alright.
The bell soon rings loudly throughout the school and the students immediately pack out their stuffs.Scaramouche on the other hand were also packing his stuffs quickly to visit his sibling — he didn't want to make them wait for too long.
━━━
Scaramouche knocked on the door softly before he opened the door to see his sibling,(name) peacefully sleeping on the hospital bed.The monitor is luckily still beeping normally.He sat on one of the chairs that's provided for visitors and he kept on staring at (name)'s unconscious body.
If only he wasn't that careless and ignorant,things like this will definitely not going to happen — it hurts him to know that he's the reason why (name) is laying on the hospital bed when they should've went to school to study and make more friends.
He's the one who had been treating them so badly to the point where they wanted to run away from him.Now,this shit happened and he couldn't do anything to reverse this incident.
He missed the old times where both of them would always play and study together."Please recover soon..." He whispered with a sad look on his face.He truly do miss his sibling.
Kinda changed the way I designed my posts idk if I'll keep this or change it.Also,I know it's short but I'm not going to stare at my phone screen just to try and figure out what to write lolol
#genshin fanfic#genshin imagines#genshin impact#genshin x reader#genshin x you#genshin angst#light angst#angst#platonic#genshin platonic#gn reader#family angst#sibling reader#scaramouche#wanderer#heizou
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Steve Harrington's siblings were a marvel. They were almost a myth because although he mentioned them, they were never seen, and he couldn’t give many details on the matter.
So yeah, hypothetically, Steve had siblings but… Who could know for sure?
Apparently Robin, because she had accidentally become romantically involved with his older sister, Marianne. Steve liked Marianne, mainly because she paid attention to him unlike most of his other siblings. He had 6, and he was the youngest. Marianne was only 3 years older than him, making her four years older than Robin, but the two girls were both in college so the age gap wasn’t that big of a deal.
And even though Robin had met Marianne and knew she was Steve’s sister, she still didn’t really believe him, especially after he’d let it slip that his first name was in fact, not Steve, but rather Eli, and Steve wasn’t even part of his name. It was a derivative from Stefano.
Stefano! She couldn’t believe her ears, but she’d seen his driver's license and everything, and even heard it confirmed by Marianne who called him Eli. She decided to keep the fact to herself, Steve didn’t want the kids, or Eddie, teasing him, especially Eddie, because Steve knew he’d have a field day with it. Though, he could always fire back with the utterance of Eddison, Eddie’s full name.
Robin really didn’t feel like being the cause of that argument.
Until Marianne showed up at their parents house for a visit. And her timing was impeccable because she showed up right as Hellfire’s campaign was finishing up, and everyone happened to be there. Hell, even Joyce and Hopper were there, for some reason Steve couldn’t tell you. And she really threw them all for a loop because when Steve swung the front door open and the rest heard her cheers of “Eli!” They had thought Steve’s girlfriend was at the door, which caused an issue, because Steve and Eddie were quite openly dating, around family, that is.
There was an uproar of questions before he could even close the door behind her.
“Steve, who is this?”
“What the hell, Steve.”
“Is that Marianne?”
“Who’s that?”
They were all speaking at once, tripping over themselves and working up conspiracies about the random lady that just showed up at Steve's house and started calling him “Eli.” And hugging and kissing him on the cheek, and just really causing problems. Unintentionally of course, she knew about him and Eddie, what she didn’t know, though, is the notion that none of them had believed Steve when he said he had siblings. They just outright denied it, but it was hard to do that now that one of these foretold siblings was standing there before them. And the chaos only really tamped down when Robin scampered in, running into Marianne’s arms and planting a kiss on her lips.
Now that, that got them to shut up.
So Steve took his chance, “Everyone, this is Marianne. My older sister, and well. Robin’s girlfriend.” He sighed, moving over to Eddie, with a reassuring look and an arm around his waist. He felt Eddie’s shoulders slump in relief, and as much as he enjoyed it, he didn’t comment on it.
“Wait. You have siblings?” Dustin piped, which earned him an exasperated look from Marianne.
“Eli,” She scolded, and that raised some eyebrows, “Eli?” Eddie said, whipping his head around to face him. “Why didn’t you tell them this?” She asked.
He scoffed, eyes blown wide, “I did! They didn’t believe me!” He spluttered. And that caused another argument.
“No!”
“You never told us that!”
“No way, Steve!”
Jumbling over themselves once again. Until Robin piped up with, “Actually, dingus is right this time. You guys didn't listen to him.” There was a collective scoff, but they finally gave up on the argument.
“Guys. I have 6 siblings. Six. And I’m the youngest.”
There was an absolute agreement that Steve was in fact the youngest, he had a case of youngest sibling syndrome sometimes. It was an undeniable fact.
After the details were all squared away, the group was clambering over Marianne, asking her to share embarrassing tails of young cringey Steve, and she did not hold back. Telling them about the time he’d eaten too many chocolate chips and threw up all over the carpet. That had gotten a few laughs, one especially hard from Robin who told them that he’d done that same thing once again just last week.
Their makeshift party dwindled down to a close, and one by one the kids and their respective people left, leaving just the Harrington siblings and their partners.
“It was really nice to see you, Eli. It’s been too long.” Steve shrugged forlornly. “Well, I don’t blame you. The house isn't the easiest to live in. Marianne flashed him a sympathetic look. “I know Eli… It wasn’t fair of us to leave you… But we had to get out y’know? And you were still so young.” Steve shook his head. “I was ten Mariannne, you could’ve figured it-” He cuts himself off with a wave of his hand. “It’s okay. I mean- It’s not but, I understand. Lets just… Not talk about that, okay?” Marianne nodded sadly, eyes avoiding the non Harringtons in the room, who’s eyes were doing the exact opposite. Both Eddie and Robin’s eyes were boring into Steve’s head, he silently thought that if they stared any harder his head would explode. He shared a quiet laugh at that. He knew they’d have questions, hell, he had questions.
He’d wrestled with the fact that his siblings left him there for years, and he really didn’t want to open that can of worms again, especially not since he’d found a little mess of a family here in Hawkins. He knew Marianne felt guilt about it, even though it was really George’s fault. He was the oldest, he organized the whole plan to leave. He left Steve out. On purpose.
The topic was switched quickly after that and didn’t resurface until him and Eddie were curled up together in his bed, surrounded by that horrible plaid wallpaper. How his siblings assumed he was the favorite when their parents had given him that wallpaper was beyond him, but that’s besides the point.
He could almost see the gears turning in Eddie’s head, watching him work himself up to ask the question. Steve sighed, “Eds. It’s really a whole mess. Are you sure you want to know?” Eddie nodded, reaching a hand up to brush a loose hair off of Steve’s forehead. “I want to know everything about you,” He whispered. And that sentence almost killed Steve in it of itself. So he launched into the story.
Starting with the highly catholic Harrignton couple who believe life begins at conception, and any type of condom or anything was against the word of god. So they ended up with seven children they really did not want. Starting with George, followed all but 10 months later by Harrison, about a year later, out popped Louise and Lonnie, the twins. They were quite indifferent towards Steve, for a reason he could never really figure out. Only 11 months later Eugene was born, and following soon after was Marianne. There was a stretch of time there were Mrs. and Mr. Harrington were not on speaking terms, however Mr. Harrignton and his secretary were quite comfortable with each other. In fact, too comfortable because 3 years 5 months and two days after Marianne was born, Steve popped out. Last name Harrington, mom… Nowhere to be found. Mrs. Harrignton was kind enough to raise him as their own, but with the rocky relationship between her and his dad, the truth came out, used as ammunition in one of their many arguments. These arguments weren’t common at first, but they got more frequent, and louder and… Closer. Until Mr. Harrington finally laid hands on Mrs. Harrignton. Steve guesses that’s when George started planning to leave. He was 17, and fed up, so he took off and brought his “real” siblings with him, leaving Steve, or Eli, in the middle of the wreckage. It was hard. For a few years his dad was pretty physical towards him and Mrs. Harrington was less than fond of him. Then his dad got a promotion when he started highschool, and was suddenly never home. Steve found that he liked that better than having them there with him. Mrs. Harrington went with him, she didn’t trust him after their little “break.” And so the physical side of things stopped, but then the loneliness set in, and so did the anger. King Steve was born soon after, no parents, no siblings, access to his dads liquor cabinet. It was the perfect combination for a killer party house. It was also the perfect combination for a lonely, aggressive, teenager.
So yeah, he doesn’t talk about his siblings much, but they are real, and he does love them, even if they can't bring themselves to love him back. Sure, Marianne loves him, but he has this feeling deep down that she just sees him as a friend, and not. Well, not, family. It stings but he can't really blame her.
And Steve says all this to Eddie, voice only cracking a few times thank you very much, and it feels good to get it off his chest. To unload everything he’d been holding onto for the majority of his life.
“I’m sorry you went through that, Stevie. You have family with me and Wayne, I hope you know that,” And the dam broke in Steve’s eyes, and all Eddie could think to do was hold him as he sobbed. “Shhh, Stevie, it’s all over. You’re not alone, baby. You’ve got me and Robin, and Joyce and Hopper, and those kids adore you. So much that they’d probably skip college if it meant staying close to you.” Steve let out a wet laugh at that, sniffling and breathing out a shuddering sigh. “Thank you, Eddie,” He murmured, placing a gentle kiss on his lips.
He fell asleep to the sound of Eddie’s deep, slow, breathing, and the thought that he has a family now. He may have had to build it from the ground up, but it’s there now, and it’s not falling down anytime soon.
#steve harrington#stranger things#robin buckley#eddie munson#best friend robin#established steddie#soft steddie#steve x eddie#steve harrington/eddie munson#steddie#steve's family#found family#family angst#steve harringtons parents#eddie x steve#eddie stranger things#steddie fic
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Your kid hurt himself (Ushijima Wakatoshi x Reader)
Synopsis: Ushijima and Y/N have an 8-year-old son who's scratching and punching himself because of his frustration. You can't stop your son and called your husband because you're scared to look at your son.
Characters: Dad!Ushijima Wakatoshi x Mom!Reader
TW: Self-harm, angst, fluff, comfort, family fluff, Ushijima is a great dad
Word Count: 750
©noonajoe (Published on 2 April 2023 - 23:15 Bangkok Time) this story is not going to be sold, modified, or translated in any manner.
“T-Toshi”
“Yes, honey, what’s wrong?” Toshi asked.
“Takio, he’s..” you’re trembling staring behind Takio’s room door.
“What’s happening? I heard Kio’’s screaming in your background sound” he stood up from his seat, and quickly sign his driver to prepare his car for him.
“He… he hurt himself Toshi…, like I did when I was little, I don’t know now how to make him stop. He unintentionally scratched my arm when I tried to stop him…” you sat on the table, searching for a medkit to wrap the scratch.
“I’m in the car right now. Is the scratch bad? Do you need an ambulance?”
“No, I’m okay but mentally not because I can’t stop him, Toshi…”
“Okay, wait, I’m on my way home, 15 minutes, wait for me, okay honey?”
“Y-yes, thank you, Toshi” you closed his call.
He arrives, quickly enters the entrance door, and found you treating your hand
“Toshi” you look at him.
He quickly grabs your hand, and takes a good look at your wounds, “let me see”
“Okay, it looks not serious, thankfully” he sighed, glad that his wife was okay.
“Is he in his room?”
You nodded
“Okay, don’t stress yourself, let me take care of him” he patted your head.
He enters the room and looks at Takio. His son’s hair is messy, his dark eyebags are visible, and his eyes are swollen because of screaming and crying.
“Takio,” he said, with a firm tone.
“D-dad..” Takio was startled, staring at his father walking towards him.
Your kid is pretty scared of Toshi because of his cold gaze
“I’m sorry dad, I-I think I hurt mom a little bit back then, I-I’ll apologize to mommy later”
He just stares at him and takes a deep sigh. He sits on your son’s bed, straightly staring at his son who’s sitting on a chair.
“Mom is fine. But I’m not here to talk about that. Why did you hurt yourself?”
The moment he heard that his tear slowly began to flow.
“If Kio had something in mind, or even disappointed Kio, just cry it out. Did I and mom ever angry when you cried? No, right? We never taught you to hurt yourself”
“I don’t know dad, I’m so dumb at school. Mrs. X always said that I will never be as successful as you or mom”
Toshi’s eyes widen, and with his flat expression, he tried to calm himself down.
“Okay, so, Mrs. X told you that?”
“Yes, dad…”
“How long had she been saying that?”
“Uh… I don’t remember when… But she always said that when I finish my volleyball extracurricular, I and other teammates somehow met her by coincidence when we want to go home. When we got to the school’s entrance gate, she always mock me with those words…. I was embarrassed because my teammates heard that out loud”
“Okay, so, all of your teammates heard what Mrs. X said?”
“Yes, dad…”
“Okay, tomorrow, I want you to give me the list of all of your teammates as an evidence, I will report this to the principal”
“No! Dad, but, she’s going to bully me more…”
“Then I will take this case to the law firm as an irresponsible action from a school. She hurt my son, it’s a serious matter.“
“... O-okay dad”
“Okay, do you need some psychological therapy for this matter? Your mom and I maybe not a people that can solve some of your mental needs, especially if you’re hurting yourself. I can sign up at the nearest hospital if you want. As long as Takio feels better, we will always support Takio’s needs no matter what”
“I think, I will tone down my overthinking, Dad. I’ll try to fix this self-hurt by myself first… But thank you for offering, dad”
He stared at your 8-year-old kid, and can’t imagine if his self-hurt got worsened. He pulls his son’s chair closer so he can see him closer, “From now on, tell me and your mom if you experiencing bad things, okay? And don’t hurt yourself. I may be not as lovely and feely as your mom but we love you so much and it hurts us so much if you hurt yourself like this.” he grabbed your son’s hand.
“Okay, dad… I’m sorry for hurting myself…and I will always love you both…”
“Well, why don’t we go outside and see mommy? She’s extremely worried about you, Kio”
“Okay, dad”
The night ended with you hugging your son tightly, giving him multiple words of comfort. You’re glad your husband can help your son through his hardship.
While you're hugging your son until he's asleep, Toshi looked at you and comforts you by saying "he's going to be okay"
#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu#haikyuu imagines#haikyuu scenarios#hq x reader#haikyuu fluff#ushijima x reader#ushijima wakatoshi#ushijima wakatoshi x reader#hq imagines#hq!!#haikyuu!!#ushijima angst#ushijima x y/n#ushijima fic#dad! ushijima#family angst#family fluff#hurt comfort
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More than a Monster
Lloyd shows up on Garmadon's doorstep covered in injuries and with nowhere else to go.
Unable to turn the boy away, Garmadon decides to take care of him.
But there are demons and memories to face when your fractured soul can't love your own son.
(3.6k word fanfiction.)
Garmadon had gotten used to his new reality. A reality where he could be nothing more than a monster.
In fact, it was the reality that he had spent most of his life being a monster, an evil being with no redeemable qualities.
It was no different from any of those other times, but sometimes he couldn’t help but mourn what he had once been.
In the very back of his mind, he could see the memories. A happy old man with a child, a young man enjoying the company of his wife…
But it was like looking through a window. He wasn’t that man anymore. He didn’t even feel attachment to those people the way he once had.
In fact, he’d almost killed them multiple times.
But he had gotten away from them. He lived in New Ninjago City, far away from Wu’s monastery and his ninja.
He didn’t have to deal with Lloyd’s judgemental glare and words anymore. The boy would never understand everything that he had been through, and he didn’t expect him to.
How could he? The boy was young, naive, and weak.
Garmadon looked at the TV, then at the leftover pizza from dinner. A part of him knew that this shouldn’t be the life he was living, that he should be up and around, not sitting around and being lazy.
Whatever thoughts he had going through his mind were interrupted by the sound of knocking on the door.
He groaned in annoyance, then stood up. If he was lucky, it would be someone that he could easily scare off. If it wasn’t… Well, he probably shouldn’t threaten people…
Garmadon opened the door, then froze in shock at what he saw.
In front of him was Lloyd. His face covered in bruises and blood, his body barely being able to support itself as he leaned against a wall.
“I’m sorry,” Lloyd whispered as he wiped at his nose, blood staining his dirty green gi. “I.. I didn’t know who else to go to.”
Garmadon swallowed. He knew how to do first aid, but he hadn’t been expecting to see the Green Ninja so beat up.
Before he could decide to slam the door in Lloyd’s face, Garmadon grabbed him by the arm and gently led him inside.
Not that it made any sense to do so. He didn’t care about the boy.
Deep down he knew he should. Lloyd was his son, his heir. Any trip down memory lane would show that he was supposed to love him more than life itself. He was supposed to give up oaths of peace for the boy, decide to follow him to Chen’s island to protect him…
And yet, it was like watching a movie he didn’t like. He knew that he should love the boy unconditionally, but he couldn’t.
“What happened?” Garmadon asked him as Lloyd sat down on the sofa.
Lloyd looked up at him, his green glowing eyes glazed over. “I dunno,” he said. “I was on my way home, and…”
Garmadon sighed. It wasn’t surprising that he didn’t know what had happened to him, but it was inconvenient.
“Where all are you hurt?” he asked.
Lloyd tried to shrug, but winced before his arm was all the way up.
“Alright then,” Garmadon said. “Don’t move. I’m going to get the first aid kit.”
As he walked towards the bathroom, Garmadon found himself once again traveling down memory lane.
This time though, his mind settled on one memory.
Garmadon was only a little older than Wu’s ninja.
He had been meditating. On what he can’t remember anymore, but that wasn’t the important part.
The important part was the cry that brought him out of his meditative state. The way it had sent his heart into a frenzied panic as he stood up and ran to what had made the sound.
“Lloyd? Are you alright?” he had asked as he picked up his son and wiped the tears from his eyes.
Lloyd buried his face in his shoulder, his soft, duckling blond hair rubbing against Garmadon’s neck and jaw.
He pressed a gentle kiss to the side of Lloyd’s head. “It’s okay,” he had said. “I’ve got you. You’re okay, Little One.”
The memory was one that had been completely forgotten over the years. It was nothing that Garmadon truly needed to remember.
There was no lesson there, there was nothing important that had happened. Lloyd had tripped over his own feet and started crying.
The boy had always been clumsy. Perhaps he should have tried to train it out of him when he was a child instead of coddling him.
It didn’t matter anymore though. That time was gone, and this version of him was no father.
He grabbed the first aid kit from the bathroom, but he caught himself looking at his reflection in the mirror.
What had happened to the man who had been here before him? The eldest son of the First Spinjitzu Master, the dark-haired man who had won the heart of Misako Montgomery?
When he looked in the mirror, he saw nothing but a shell.
He shook his head. None of that mattered right now. What mattered was that Lloyd didn’t bleed out on his couch.
Not because he cared about the boy, but because he really didn’t want to have to figure out how to wash all of that blood out of his couch.
“You had better not be sleeping,” Garmadon warned Lloyd when he walked in.
The boy’s dull eyes fluttered open and he lazily shook his head. “Not sleeping…”
Before he could even try to counter the boy’s words, he found himself plagued by another memory.
Garmadon scooped Lloyd’s tiny body into his arms.
“And just what, exactly, are you still doing awake, young man?” He asked as he began to tickle the young child in his arms.
Lloyd squealed as he squirmed away from his touch. “Mama said I could wait up for you!” he said, though his eyes were foggy with exhaustion.
Garmadon raised an eyebrow. “Did she now?” he asked.
Lloyd hesitated for a second, then smiled. The smile was one that Garmadon recognized as the smile of a troublemaker. Someone who had been caught in a lie. “Uhhh…”
In that moment, Garmadon had known that he should have scolded the boy for staying up so late, but he didn’t. Instead, he laughed.
“Are you tired now?” he asked. “It is quite late for you, my little one.”
Lloyd nodded, his blond hair falling in front of his eyes. It was time for another haircut. “Will you tell me a bedtime story?” he asked. “One about ninjas?”
Garmadon smiled. “Of course,” he said. “Anything for you, my son.”
Garmadon swallowed nervously as he looked at the boy in front of him. As much as he didn’t care about him, he knew that if he fell asleep, he might not wake back up.
“You need to stay awake,” he told Lloyd. “No falling asleep yet.”
Lloyd looked straight at him, but Garmadon wasn’t sure that he was taking in any of the words that he was saying.
He sighed, then opened up the first aid kit. “Where are you the most injured?”
Those words seemed to click because Lloyd actually answered. “I think I have a couple busted ribs. Um… there’s a cut on my arm,” he said. “My face really hurts, and I think I hit my head.”
Garmadon nodded. He wasn’t the least bit surprised that the boy had a head injury. In fact, all of the symptoms were there.
He reached out and felt the back of Lloyd’s head.
As soon as he did, another memory popped up.
“Misako, he’s perfect.”
Garmadon looked down at the tiny baby in his arms. His heart bleeding with pride and joy as he took in every little feature of his young son.
The baby’s eyes were shut peacefully, too tired and young to keep them open for more than a few moments at a time.
His pink skin was so soft and ever so slightly fuzzy.
He was swaddled tightly so that he didn’t startle, but Garmadon had caught a quick glance of his fingers and toes. They were so small, so precious.
“What do you want to name him?”
Garmadon cupped the back of his son’s head, the blond hair was so soft under his hand.
For this one moment in his life, he had never been happier.
He was a father. A father to the most precious boy in all of the sixteen realms.
“Lloyd,” he said. “Lloyd Montgomery Garmadon.”
Unsurprisingly, there was a lump on the back of Lloyd’s head. A clear and obvious sign that the boy was most likely concussed.
He probably needed a hospital. Or at least someone with more equipment than a simple first aid kit.
However, Lloyd had come to him. And he wasn’t about to call an ambulance to come pick the boy up at his own home.
He didn’t want to end up in prison again.
“You have a concussion,” he told Lloyd.
Lloyd nodded. “Makes sense,” he whispered.
Garmadon sighed, then picked up one of the alcohol wipes and began cleaning the cut above Lloyd’s left eye.
“You know, for being the Green Ninja, they really did a number on you,” Garmadon remarked.
Lloyd winced, and Garmadon wasn’t sure if it was because of what he said or if it was because of the stinging from the alcohol.
For a second, Garmadon wanted to stop what he was doing and make sure that he wasn’t hurting him.
But then he remembered what he was doing. He was patching up the kid’s wounds. It was going to hurt and there was nothing that he could do to fix it.
Besides, he didn’t care about Lloyd.
Right?
“That boy makes you weak,” the Overlord rasped in his ear. “All it would take is one blade to end him, and you could become the strongest being in all of Ninjago.”
Garmadon’s heart pounded in his ears. In the back of his mind, the venom agreed with him. There were so many ways to do it too.
It would be so easy. Hide the blade in his hand, then hug his son. As soon as his arms were wrapped about the boy, he could slide the knife into Lloyd’s side.
No… NO.
What was he thinking???
That was his son. The only thing in all of Ninjago worth protecting.
Lloyd was his sunshine, his starlight, his entire galaxy.
How could he even consider such an idea?
“Lloyd is not the problem,” he told the Overlord. “It is those pesky ninja. They are the ones that we need to get rid of.”
He couldn’t care about Lloyd. Not in this state. He wasn’t the man he had been before and he could never be that man again…
He couldn’t care about Lloyd and he didn’t care about Lloyd.
“Does it need stitches?” Lloyd asked.
Garmadon shook his head. “I do not believe so,” he said. “However, I don’t recommend doing whatever caused this cut again.”
The boy let out a soft chuckle, though it was weak as well. “Believe me, I don’t plan on it.”
Garmadon reached down and grabbed the wet washcloth that he had gotten when he was in the bathroom. With it, he began to clean Lloyd’s bloodied nose.
“You sure have a knack for finding trouble, don’t you?”
As soon as he said those words, Lloyd froze.
Garmadon frowned. The words didn’t have any hidden meaning, he wasn’t being unnecessarily cruel… But Lloyd’s reaction was unusual.
“What?” he asked.
Lloyd looked at him for a second, his dulled green eyes searching his own. For a second, Garmadon felt like the young boy was peering into his soul.
“You’ve said that to me before,” he said. “Well, not you, but…”
He was older now, much older.
And so was his son.
Lloyd sat on the edge of the vehicle they had taken from the Samurai X’s cave.
Garmadon pressed a wet washcloth to his son’s broken lip. The boy didn’t look at him as they sat there in silence.
“You sure have a knack for finding trouble,” he said, breaking the quiet between them.
It had been a nindroid who had found them. One who had immediately responded by attacking Lloyd.
By the time Garmadon had gotten over there to stop it from overtaking the boy, it had already landed quite a good punch against his son’s mouth.
“I know,” Lloyd said, though he still didn’t look his father in the eye. “That’s why destiny chose me.”
Garmadon had tried to figure out a good response to that, but he couldn’t. It was true. Lloyd was quite the mangent to trouble…
Some things never changed apparently.
“I guess I did…” Garmadon said. “And I still stand by it.”
Lloyd bowed his head.
“What?” Garmadon asked again.
“Nothing…” he whispered.
Of course the child would try that. He would look all sad and miserable and then say that nothing was wrong.
It was all a tactic to get him to care, to pretend to be something that he wasn’t. He couldn’t make himself care about Lloyd, and he wouldn’t pretend that he did either.
“Fine,” Garmadon said, then began to clean the cut on Lloyd’s arm. This one probably did need stitches, but he wasn’t even remotely qualified to do that.
His precious ninja team could stitch him up after he sent him back to them. If they really cared that much, they shouldn’t have left him out alone to get mugged in the first place.
“Do you remember everything?” Lloyd asked.
Garmadon gritted his teeth, then nodded. “I do,” he said.
He remembered everything. From playing with Wu at the lake to this very moment. He remembered all of the moments with Lloyd, he remembered flirting with Misako, he remembered succumbing to the evil of the venom.
But it was like he was looking in on them. They didn’t feel like they were his. Instead, when he thought back on them, he felt nothing.
It didn’t matter how much he tried to bring himself to care about Lloyd, he couldn’t.
The boy was his son, his own flesh and blood.
But that meant nothing to him.
Garmadon looked at his son. The boy had grown so much, and he was so proud of the man he was becoming.
However, he knew that he wouldn’t be able to see any more of his son’s growth.
This was the end.
“I yearned to make the world in my image. I never realized I already had, in you,” he told Lloyd.
Lloyd’s green eyes sparkled with tears, and Garmadon tried so hard to memorize the face he knew he would never see again.
No matter what happened next, he would always love his son.
Except… That part of him had been wrong.
Garmadon looked at the boy in front of him, the boy that was his son.
And he felt nothing.
That pride that he knew he had once felt, that love…
It was gone.
“I’m going to go call your mother,” he said as he stood up. Suddenly, he couldn’t stand to be around the boy any longer.
The boy he wanted to love, but couldn’t.
Damn Harumi…
The girl might have brought him back, but not the him that he wanted to be.
He made his way to where the wired phone was hanging up, then hesitated.
He had a chance to try to change, to try to find some form of love in his heart to give to Lloyd.
But he knew that it would only lead to more heartbreak. It didn’t matter what he tried. He could never be the perfect father, even his past self had failed at that.
He waited as the phone rang, and another memory came to mind.
Garmadon stood over Lloyd’s crib, the tiny child sleeping peacefully as the night went on.
In the back of his mind, he could hear the golden weapons whispering to him, begging to be taken and used to create his own version of Ninjago.
A version where there were no evil overlords, no hateful fathers, no perfect brothers who ruined everything… A perfect world for him and his son.
He reached down and stroked the tiny child’s hair. Selfishly, he hoped that his son’s blond curls would one day turn dark brown like his.
“I’ll make the world a better place for you, my son,” he said. “I’ll make a world worth living in. One where you can never be judged for your past. You’ll be a prince, royalty amongst men.”
He didn’t know if it was the words he had spoken or if it was because of the soothing touch, but Lloyd leaned against his hand.
“I’ll be back, Little One,” he said. “And the world will be a better place.”
Then he left to go find the Golden Weapons of Spinjitzu.
He didn’t realize that nothing would ever be the same again.
Finally, someone picked up the phone.
“Hello?”
“Misako,” Garmadon said.
“Why are you calling us?” she demanded. “What is going on?”
“Trust me when I say I’d rather not be calling this number at all,” he told her. “Your son showed up on my doorstep. He’d been jumped and needed someone to bandage his wounds. No idea why he came to me of all people, but he is patched up and ready for one of you to come get him.”
“We’ll be right over.”
Garmadon hung up the phone, then walked back into the living room.
Lloyd was laying on the couch, looking smaller than ever before. His eyes were shut and Garmadon couldn’t help but guess that the boy was probably sleeping.
So he sat down in the armchair and watched the boy he really couldn’t care less about.
He didn’t care about him, right?
He wasn’t able to love.
First it had been from the venom of the Great Devourer, and now it was from the Oni blood that coursed within him.
Destiny had torn his family apart time and time again. There was nothing he could do about that. It was a fact of life, a cruel part of a game he wanted to be done with.
“Dad..?”
The soft voice caught Garmadon’s attention the way it had so many times in the past.
“What is it, Lloyd?” he asked. It was harsh, but none of the words he had used in the past seemed to fit.
He couldn’t love the boy, no matter how hard he tried.
No matter how hard he wanted to.
Lloyd didn’t say anything for a long moment, instead he just looked into the distance.
“Just making sure you’re still there…”
Garmadon swallowed. He could say something to bridge the gap, to cling onto some fake idea of love and what it meant.
But he wouldn’t do that to Lloyd. He couldn’t lie to him.
Not after everything else he had done to him.
He wished life was easier. He wished that he could just pull Lloyd into his arms and tell him that everything would be okay, and that he loved him.
But it wasn’t true.
And it could never be true.
He didn’t know how to love. He was incapable of loving.
Garmadon looked at the boy in front of him and his heart broke. Not because he loved him, but because he wanted to.
He had all of the memories, he knew all of the right words, he could pretend to play the part of a loving father.
But it would never be real.
He didn’t feel anything like what he remembered feeling when he looked at the boy in front of him.
His fractured soul meant that Lloyd couldn’t be a part of his life the same way he had been in the past.
He couldn’t pick him up and twirl him around. He couldn’t look at his son with pride and boast about him to everyone. He couldn’t follow the boy around on missions. He couldn’t teach Lloyd the things that Wu didn’t.
Because he was a monster, an abomination.
He should have stayed dead. Death was a kinder fate than this one.
Garmadon wiped the tears out of his eyes. He wasn’t crying, it was just too late for him to still be up.
He wasn’t sure how long he watched Lloyd for before the car pulled up in front of the building and he heard a knock on his door.
Garmadon stood, then walked over to Lloyd and gently shook his shoulder.
When Lloyd woke up, he startled. “What’s going on?” he asked.
“Your team is here to pick you up,” he said. “They’re at the door.”
Lloyd nodded, then stood up. Slowly, he limped and stumbled to the door.
Unsurprisingly, it was the red ninja who was at the door.
Instantly, the boy in red was checking him over and making sure that he was okay.
They left without saying a word.
Garmadon knew that he should go to bed, but instead, he found himself drawn to the window.
He watched as the two of them got into the car, and Lloyd walked out of his life once again. For a moment, there was a lump in his throat.
But what did it matter?
He didn’t care.
Garmadon was an Oni, a fractured soul of a man who should be dead…
How could he love when he was nothing more than a monster?
#ninjago#lloyd garmadon#ninjago garmadon#lord garmadon#flashback#memories#angst#hurt/comfort#emotional hurt/no comfort#whump#family#family angst#father and son#injuries#fanfic#ninjago fanfiction#my fanfiction
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Took Too Much- Prologue
Remember when I said no more AU's? Well I lied.
Synopsis: A different take on my Birds of A Feather Universe featuring Emily Bradshaw (Bradley's little sister) dating Jake Seresin during and after the mission. Bradley and Mav, now working on their own issues and trying to reconnect with Emily as well, have a LOT of opinions on the young woman's choice of partner.
And like the foolish men they are, they think they have the right to sabotage it.
It started out funny, watching the collective horror on Bradley and Mav's faces when Emily arrived at the post mission party at the Hard Deck and Jake welcomed her with the desperate kiss of a man who wasn't sure he was coming home. The bar quieted, everyone staring, but the shock was pointless, they had always been inevitable. Emily had known Jake for a decade, been in love with him for almost as long, and if it weren't for deployments and her own quest to rise in the medical world there would be a ring on her finger already and maybe a child or two at her side.
They met when Jake went to Top Gun the first time, all young and cocky and flying like he didn't have anything to lose; because he didn't. No name on his emergency contact list besides whatever CO he was currently serving under, no home to go back to for holidays or leave. Jake ran into Emily a few times around North Island, a pretty girl with a smile that never met her eyes, a pain and loneliness that Jake never thought he would see in anyone else but himself. They flirted, they hooked up, but the blonde pilot expected it to run its course by the time he graduated.
And then family week came.
Emily never got a chance to meet her father but she grew up hearing stories. She heard about his time at Top Gun, how that was the moment her father and Uncle Mav ended up meeting so many of the men who would become staples to her growing up. It was where her father met her Uncle Ice, the only person she had left of them all, though he was off trying to make Admiral and wasn't around as often. But before that, before Emily was lost to the collateral damage of a fight between her brother and the man who tried to raise them, Emily got to learn about one of the best times in her dad's life. Top Gun seemed like the greatest place in the world; the hi-jinxes that they shared, the competitiveness, the singing at the bar and wooing women for Mav; it all sounded so fun! Imagine her surprise when Bradley of all people told her how their father's time at Top Gun ended. How it was during Family week of all moments, with his son and wife in town and waiting for him, when Nick Bradshaw hit the canopy and broke his neck before he landed face down in the Pacific.
So Emily hated Family Week.
As all the pilots on base took their parents, lovers, and children to the nicer restaurants off the water, Emily found the crappiest dive bar she could and drank her sorrows away. She grieved, like she did every Top Gun cycle, for the children like her who wouldn't grow up with a complete home thanks to the Navy, for women and men like her mother who would lose the love of their lives tragically young, and for herself, for staying here in this town, in the shroud of cruel non-memories, thinking that it made her closer to a ghost that never knew her.
But then Jake arrived.
Jake, who grieved his own loneliness just like her. Who had no one but himself for so long he didn't even know how to let anyone else in. Jake, who took one look at the woman at the bar that he had already been falling for, the woman who never seemed willing to let him all the way in, and he decided to take a chance. Jake joined Emily that evening and together they learned that isolation was not their punishment, they were allowed to find someone. Two souls so broken and yet so similar, and suddenly everything felt easy.
They've never talked about the future during the rest of Jake's time in North Island; Emily's own hesitancy of following in her mother's footsteps and losing a love so young and Jake's inability to allow himself to have love and companionship on that type of level making them the poster children for lack of communication, but somehow they didn't need to. When Jake graduated, top of his class of course, Emily knew their time was up. It was bittersweet but expected and yet very quickly letters began to arrive for her, Jake's penmanship printing out her address neatly, a letter of his newest posting inside. She would write back and suddenly it seemed their connection didn't need to end. They didn't define what they were to each other: Jake never asked if she was seeing anyone, nor would he seem mad if she were. Emily never hinted to see if he found someone else at a new port or assumed that he didn't let loose on the women in whatever town he was stationed . Instead they became what each other needed: Emily insisted on being Jake's emergency contact. Jake began to come back to North Island on his holidays and leave to make sure Emily wasn't alone all the time. It was love but by their own definition, and it was the most stable relationship either of them ever had.
Now, reunited once again and after the threat of losing what could have been, Emily and Jake were ready to make this real, Bradley and Maverick be damned. Emily knew she had no obligation to explain herself to either of them, not after they left her 15 years ago, and she took a bit of pleasure when they both seemed to huff in indignation at the implications that Hangman of all people was who she was seeing. She expected some pushback, especially with Maverick being Jake's CO, but she never assumed the look shared between her brother and pseudo father would mean so much, would take so much.
How two people who claimed to love her could destroy so much.
Here's the original moodboard from the Birds of A Feather story but please note Jake and Emily are not married in this version!
#top gun maverick#jake hangman seresin#bradley rooster bradshaw#pete maverick mitchell#pete mitchell#emily nicole bradshaw#bradshaw family#top gun#top gun hangman#jake seresin#top gun: maverick#dagger squad#new au#the bradshaw family#family angst#estranged family
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I ! Feels like we had matching wounds, but mine's still black and bruised (and yours is perfectly fine now.)
✎ Synopsis ! You've been thrusted to carry the burden of the eldest after his passing.
Content & warning: Jake sully x Daughter!Reader, Sully kids x Sister!Reader Neytiri x Daughter!Reader. Mentions of death and violence! Purely angst, at least for this chapter. Neteyam dies in the forest (the scene were quaritch first holds everyone hostage) I will not be following his storyline, because that's for you to take 🫵🫵🫵 buckle up.
Song: The Exit, Conan Gray.
You stay with the ikrans.
Neteyam stepped forward without hesitation, stomach in knots with anxiety. “Father, I’m a warrior. I’m supposed to fight.”
“I need you here,” he cut through his attempt to follow, nostrils flaring and jaw locked. There was no room for negotiation with the authority that laced his tone. “I need you to listen when I say you stay here.” he jabbed his finger on his chest, sealing him stiffly on the spot. The seconds seemed to hang in the air like lead weights, and any moment lost was an opportunity for danger to strike– he could only thin his lips and sharply nod.
“I mean it, Neteyam.”
Such a simple ask of his father could have spared him from the rage of war, but how could you not expect the eldest to fight when his very siblings were in danger? Jake should have known better than to trust the empty ‘yes sir’ off his son’s lips– a warrior born out of his own teachings. You couldn’t blame him for following suit the second his parents were out of sight and into the wild.
How did it get to this? Jake’s thoughts would drift every painful step he took further. He knew it was in Lo’ak’s nature to be so reckless, hell, he took after his father himself– but before him, Kiri, or Tuk, it was just you and Neteyam.
He remembered feeling ecstasy tremble down his whole body when he first cradled Neteyam. The moment the olo’eyktan had presented him to the clan, carrying him for everyone to see, he couldn’t see his son himself with the unshed tears blurring his vision. A part of him was relieved that he took after his mother, thinking it would have been a handful dealing with another Jake– but perhaps it was just a ploy; a first born’s excellence that they soon yearned for another.
Then you came, another splitting image of Neytiri. The people often mistook you and Neteyam for twins and she’d reveled in the praises you both would get. You were her first daughter— right from the ear-splitting cries you let out the moment you were out of your mother’s womb to the battle cries you had worked on earlier in years, mimicked from Neytiri herself, she always swelled in pride. Unlike the eldest’s reserved composure, you were the opposite; curious and buoyant, yet still as shy and collected.
It was different with Jake; he was new to this— absolutely clueless and terrified. After you came, the jolt wasn’t similar to Neteyam’s; you were also his first babygirl. He wondered if he held you correctly, if the natural strictness he had with his son was fitting for you– oh Eywa, he definitely had to relearn weaving with Neytiri. The profound hesitation when it came to you was nerve-wracking, but the way your little hand would make its way around your father’s finger every time would ease the tight crease between his eyebrows, almost like you knew his very troubles.
You were the kindest, most sweetest child– a daddy’s girl, much to Neytiri’s complaints.
“Neteyam, scooch!” You yelled in a whisper, trying to desperately hide yourself in thick leaves and bushes. He couldn’t stifle his little giggles either, hearts pumping wildly in anticipation of your father. “Once he comes, remember to run left, alright?”
He nodded sharply. His face coated in mud in the guise of war paint that you drew yourself. Yours were drawn lousily, the strokes shaky and a mess.
Fee-fi-fo-fum, he chanted thickly, growing deeper and louder every stomp! The children could see him between the gaps— hands clawed and raised, stance menacing. You can run but you can’t hide!
Both of you shrunk in suspense, eager to best your father in playtime.
Then it was silent. Too silent. Your ears lifted curiously, eyes scanning the area only to be greeted by your father parting the leaves and surprising you both. You squealed a run and bolted to the right. Not even a second later, you heard the own panting of your twin beside you. You stared at him incredulously, legs faltering a bit, “Neteyam, I told you to go left!”
“This is left!”
“No, I’m right—! This is right, you skxawng!”
Amidst your silly bickering, Jake cunningly captured Neteyam, grabbing him from the armpits and hoisting him up high into the air. You could hear your brother’s laughter growing louder as Jake blew raspberries on his stomach, pretend-eating him with loud munches– his toothless bites making the younger’s giddiness double in size. You shrieked and sprinted faster, making a beeline to a different direction. This monster’s more unmerciful than you thought! With a determined look, you stopped behind a tree. I have to save Neteyam!
“One down and another to go!” You heard your father roar again, your brother giggling as he trailed along his heavy steps.
You threw a rock as hard as you can, shifting Jake’s attention to the noise, and before he knew it, you came running towards him, thick long vine in your hands as you lousily tied it around your father’s ankles. Neteyam shouts in victory, trying to tighten the bind. Jake could only stifle a laugh at the scene, trying not to soil the satisfaction that was evident in your smug smile. He dropped to the floor, “Oh no! You got me!”
“Toruk Makto my ass!” You got on top of him, slapping his chest down with your little hands. Jake shouts a ‘hey’ at your language, which you only sheepishly giggled in return. Neteyam parrots from behind, still holding onto his legs.
“We’re Toruk Makto now!”
The memory would have easily put a smile on his face– ease his heart even a little bit, but the severity of the situation pulled him back and immediately, he was back in marine-mode, hands gripping onto the gun tightly. The moment they saw distress among the group with the green gas enveloping where his children were, they made a move.
The dreamwalkers felt a searing burn in their nostrils as the dense gas engulfed the area, the pain shooting up their visions. Your captor had a vice-like grip on you, dragging your body with him as you watched the others scramble in distress. He tugged painfully on your hair, forcing you to hiss and jab your nails into any exposed skin you could claw on. A headache throbbed at the back of your skull like an incessant drumbeat; you needed to think fast. With a sprained ankle, you knew you couldn’t get far.
Before you could even muster enough breath to scream for help, an arrow hit the avatar straight in the nape and dropped to the ground dead. You limped backwards, seeking an escape route, when suddenly someone grabbed your shoulders and pushed you against the rough tree bark. You body trembled, hitting whoever it was on their chest in an attempt to break free. But all efforts were futile as they held onto you tightly, shaking you vigorously.
“Sis, it’s me– you’re safe,” His hands traveled around your body to check for any serious wounds. The sound of his voice brought a sense of relief over you; your brother's caring demeanor enough to make you feel at ease and secure. Your face softens, “Are you hurt anywhere?” Neteyam anxiously asked, trying to get a hold of you.
“Ankle,” You exhaled, feeling the sharp pain shoot up again, “I sprained my ankle.”
He looked around, making out a path to safety. When he manages to form a plan inside his mind, he carries you like a princess, arms securely around your waist and under your legs. Neteyam ran face-first into the battlefield, making sharp turns whenever necessary to evade any incoming bullets. With no bows or means of retaliation, you were both defenseless. You could only grab tighter as your heart hammered tightly on your throat.
“Na’vi!” Neteyam stops dead in his tracks, an expression akin to a deer caught in headlights.
“Please, we just want to go home” Neteyam begged, his voice barely higher than a whisper. The light of the eclipse illuminated his features, and he instinctively pulled you closer to him as he took a few steps back. You could feel his exhaustion both physically and emotionally; a weariness that seemed so out of place on such a young soul. Everywhere around you was utter stillness- you couldn’t breathe, the tension in the air heavy and stifling.
“I’m sorry,” And before your brother could grab the dagger tucked to his loincloth, the avatar fired her gun towards you both as Neteyam thrashed in panic, throwing your beaten body to the side as he rolled off somewhere. The dreamwalker quickly towers over you and you could only close your eyes shut, waiting for cruel death. In a blink of an eye, her body drops dead and Lo’ak immediately rushes to your aid.
Only then did you feel the searing pain in your leg, the sensation of a bullet wound as hot blood slowly oozed out. It was nauseating, the smell of iron and the redness of it. Your eyes widened in realization as you clung to your younger brother, “Neteyam! Did you find Neteyam?”
Lo'ak hurriedly hoisted you up and with sheer adrenaline, you limped to the other side, searching for your brother. Your eyes darted to his body, stiffly lying on the grass and breathing shallowly. You couldn't bear to look at the blood that stained his abdomen; it was a sight you wish to never see, ever.
“Oh, Neteyam,” You shakily put pressure on the bullet wound, only for him to violently grab both of your wrists and desperately claw at it. You could only scream aloud as the blood spilled out more and more as he writhed and struggled. “I know, I know, I know, I know– please, please just stay still.” Your words came out as a disgusting croaking slur, tears unable to keep themselves at bay.
“__, I don’t want to die yet.” He cried out as you tried to keep your hold firm, “Father—father had asked me to stay, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t stay there and wait. I.. I don’t want to see his face when he realizes I didn’t listen-- that I failed him again. __ save me, please.”
He said hurriedly, breathing heavily every word. Save Neteyam, save Neteyam.
His jaw clenched violently, spit bubbling the corners of his mouth as he grabbed onto you tightly. The noises he let out had tugged on your every heart string, snapping it over and over. He struggled in your arms, pupils blown wide and teary. “Please great mother, not my brother, not like this– Lo’ak help me!” Your head sharply turned to his unmoving figure, eyes darted to you and Neteyam. You cradled him close, not minding the crimson cot coating your own body.
You were unable to think and you had your own wounds that needed to be tended to, but you couldn’t be bothered to put him down– to accept his already fleeting breath would soon be none. You kissed his temple, rocking his body. “I’m here, I’m here Neteyam.”
“I don’t want to die,” his eyes averted to the incoming figure behind you and he drew a harsher inhale. your father had pushed you aside to aid Neteyam, immediately checking for an exit wound. He was met with a loud cry, squirming uncontrollably from Jake’s sharp movements. When he saw blood gushing out the same on the back, his shoulders slumped in defeat as he let out a sob.
Jake put pressure on it nonetheless. “It’s okay, it’s okay.”
“Sir, I’m sorry,” His words slurred together desperately, reducing to nothing but whimpers. Your lungs deny you of any more air as you watched him struggle— even in the brink of death, he had the need to apologize. Apologize for things that wasn’t even his fault, for things that was beyond his control. You kneeled just behind your father, gaze moving between Neteyam’s body and your bloodied palms. “I’m s-sorry, please don’t be mad.”
How he addressed Jake had only weakened his already beaten heart. “Save your breath, son, please.”
Everything seems to remain still for a minute, then came the shriek of your mother. You stayed there, almost lifeless yourself. You didn’t wanna see; didn’t wanna see how Neteyam’s body is limp under your father’s hold— how his eyes falls crestfallen and void of any emotion. Your siblings watch as Neytiri litters her first born with kisses, how she embraces every skin she can touch closer to her. “Not my son, eywa please.”
Eywa had granted him rest in its worst kind.
–
When he died, the same bullets went through you and it remained situated there, gnawing your insides and pounding it to mush, eating everything it can and rotting your entirety to an ugly void of a shell. It was getting heavier; his body soundly resting above the delicately woven cloth, carried by his mourning family. You could feel your feet sinking down the very soil you stepped on and you visibly faltered every move.
His cold hand gripping tightly around your wrist, his blood drawn between the lines of your palms— your soul was left to relive that night in a loop, scream bellowing until nothing was let out but breathy weeps of what was left of you.
It was bound to happen; death loomed and you dare played with it nonetheless. You should have known better than to let Lo'ak wander, let alone join him.
You stopped walking, changing everyone's solemn looks to a confused one. “Father, I can’t do it.” You whispered.
He remained tight-lipped, staring at you solidly that you could hardly decipher his expression. Jake was never one for emotions; it was as if he was programmed to tuck everything that made him feel under a gun's trigger– it was the soldier in him, finding it easier to be calm with a weapon nearby, but right now he was absolutely defenseless; stripped bare and vulnerable and he hated every moment of it; resented the fact that he failed protecting everyone, not just as clan leader, but as a father too. The latter weighed more than anything else. It dulled him to dysfunction and he could barely breathe– could barely recognize his daughter in front of him.
You took his stare differently, a cold-shoulder. Before Neytiri could approach your figure, you ran; away from the voices and guilt, away from him. Neteyam’s blood burns brightly on your very hands and you’ve swallowed down the blame, forever residing within you.
You buried something so alive and you feared it would never let you rest.
☆ mauve here! i now introduce a new series of mine that i am so excited to work on. (i know i said i'd be inactive, but i couldn't help but finish this one draft) neteyam's dying scene is heavily inspired by the game, the last of us! this feels rushed, but i needed an opening to start the series so rest assured, there would be lengthier pieces after. criticisms are welcome. feel free to point out any mistakes. mauve out >:]
Tags: @aonungsmate ♡
© avatarkv, do not repost.
#mauve writes ☆#the exit#jake sully x daughter!reader#neytiri x daughter!reader#neteyam x sister!reader#lo'ak x sister!reader#kiri x sister!reader#tuk x sister!reader#family angst#angst#avatar#avatar the way of water
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threadfic miya twins character study / sakuatsu 6.7k
miya twins angst, hurt/comfort, loneliness, learning about self worth, skts but mostly a miya twin focus
There’s this thing in most SakuAtsu fics that always gets me, but I never feel like it’s gone into enough, and it’s when there’s a fight/miscommunication between the Miya twins. There’s always some angst and then they get into a fist fight and all is well. But 9 times out of 10 what happens is, it seems like Tsumu is being a whiny brat over something small, he brings it up, they fight, and they settle it like ‘Yep, Tsumu’s just dramatic’, and it always feels like the whole thing boils down to Tsumu being unable to move on, Samu being more mature, and Tsumu ends up kind of being comedic relief for getting so worked up. (Also, half the time, it’s Tsumu being worked up because Samu tells everyone something or whatever, and in the end Suna and Samu are like ‘You’re being a brat lol’ and that’s that). And, without fail, it drives me CRAZY bc it always feels like it never addresses the root issue, so it never feels resolved to me.
PSA: I’m not saying this as like, "These are real people- how dare you ignore their feelings!!" but more like, "You're setting up this character with really valid emotions and reactions, and then failing to carry them through and it falls flat. So, here are my thoughts:
The reason Tsumu gets so worked up when it comes to Samu is because Samu is his Most Important Person. Nothing & no one has ever been, or will ever be, more important to him, and he is fully shameless about it.
It's so obvious, even when they bicker. But Samu, from an outside perspective, but also from people who know him, sees Tsumu as his twin, his brother, but not necessarily his Most Important Person or Thing.
Maybe he was when they were younger, but as they grew up, he sort of moved on. Found other things more important and whatever. This is usually where the issue happens: many fics will see the moving on as part of maturing and "resolve" the issue by implying that the solution is that Atsumu needs to move on, and then Omi comes in, etc., etc., everything's good! But that never seems right to me.
I need Samu to be confronted about the fact that Tsumu has always loved him before anything, has always put him first, and yet he, time after time, doesn't do the same.
He tells Suna about quitting volleyball first, he sees Suna more than he sees Tsumu, he doesn't tell him they're dating. And he and Suna- who's known them for a long, long time, who knows how Tsumu is- will regularly poke fun at Tsumu for being dramatic, whiny, overly sensitive, and it hurts Tsumu to know that the two people he's known the longest- including the one person who's supposed to be his other half, who's supposed to always be by his side and always have his back- never try to understand him.
They never seem to care about him as much as they care about each other. And worse than that, they make him feel like something's wrong with him for caring about them the way he does. Like he's too much, too immature, too clingy, and they tease and mock and belittle, knowing exactly where Atsumu's most vulnerable. Crossing all the lines of ‘too far’ and then, instead of apologizing, they laugh it off and tell him to grow up.
And everyone seems to agree.
Just once, JUST ONCE, I want Atsumu to have enough.
I want him to realize that he doesn't deserve that. That nothing's wrong with the way he loves, and the way he needs love.
I want an Atsumu who realizes he's giving himself up over and over just to be ridiculed.
And sure, Samu checks on him when he's sick, and Suna invites him to drink after they play against each other, and eventually they even ask Tsumu to officiate their wedding so they don't have to fight over him, but that's not what Tsumu wanted.
Tsumu wanted to be Samu's best man, the way they'd always planned since they first found out what marriage was. And if, or when, Tsumu ever got married, he'd ask Samu to be his. But it was supposed to go both ways. And Samu was supposed to call when good things happened too (like Suna asking him on a first date, or the loan for the restaurant being approved), or even bad things, not just out of a sense of obligation to make sure Tsumu was okay. And Suna was supposed to invite Tsumu out whenever he was nearby, the way Tsumu did, not just drop a time and place as their teams lined up to shake hands.
Tsumu is always treated like the Least Important Person, and eventually he has to recognize it's not good, it's not fair or healthy or right, and he owes it to himself to stop, because losing his Most Important Person is less painful than what he has right now (at least he hopes). So he starts treating Samu and Suna the way they treat him.
He answers calls (most of the time) but rarely calls first.
He doesn't send pictures of things that remind him of them anymore.
He doesn't send "I miss you" or "Love you" anymore, because they always laugh and brush him off.
He visits the restaurant if the team is in town, but he stops taking the train over on weekends just to say hi
When something big happens, he goes home alone and puts his head between his knees and breathes, because he ‘won't call Samu.’ He won't. Because Samu wouldn't. And it's hard. God, it's so, so hard, and it hurts more than he'd thought. They'd say he was being dramatic, they'd tell him to grow up, get over it. But the way neither of them even seem to notice makes him realize it was the right thing to do.
It's also hard because now Tsumu struggles a bit (a lot) to let people in. Maybe it's not that deep, maybe it's not that big a deal, but if his twin thought he was too much, didn't even care all that much about him in the end, despite the fact that Tsumu would do anything in the world for him, then who the hell would do otherwise? His twin brother and their oldest friend didn't stick around, so Tsumu doesn't really believe anyone actually will.
He becomes closer with his teammates, slowly: Bokuto loves a lot like him- giving all of himself to everyone he cares for- and even with a boyfriend, he still makes so much time for Atsumu, still meets him where he's at, treats him how Tsumu always wanted someone to. Shoyo and Omi become good friends too, through trial and error. Shouyou is easier: Tsumu knows not to expect the same kind of attentiveness from him- he's kind of flighty and distractible, which isn't bad at all. He's so genuine and good regardless.
Omi takes longer, given their sort of warring personalities, but in the end he sees Atsumu as he is, and never asks him to change. He never asks more (or less) from him. Never makes Tsumu feel like he's wrong. In his own ways, Omi pours himself into their friendship wholeheartedly, and the same way he recognizes Atsumu's ways of showing it, Tsumu sees that Omi is doing the same. For once, Tsumu doesn't feel like his care is unwanted.
But even so, new friends (or maybe more?) can only do so much. It's harder and harder to admit it now that he's proven to himself that he wasn't the one in the wrong, but he misses his brother, misses his oldest friend, and he knows they don't miss him. And it's embarrassing, it's shameful, to know that, despite everything, he would still do anything for them because that's just who he is, who he's always been. No matter what, Samu will still be his Most Important Person, and Tsumu can't do anything about it.
They still see each other, sometimes, and Tsumu breathes in each moment like he's been starved for air. He tries not to let it show, just how much he misses them, how happy he is to see them, even if it's not the same. Hell, they're probably happier to see him now than ever before, mentioning how much he's grown up lately, how much better he's doing now that he's not so dependent on them, on Samu. And it hurts infinitely more to hear, to know that they prefer this censored version of him to the real one. The one who was unashamed of how much he loved them, how much they meant to him.
It takes a while for him to heal from that, actually. His new friends help. Omi helps a lot. Bo helps the most- he's the first person Tsumu ever tells about it all, and he's the only one who he trusts to understand. Even then, there's no one who can really share the feeling. Even Bokuto can only speak about friends, his two sisters much older. It's different from a twin, and he knows that. So, to an extent, he has to go it alone.
That's the worst part. Tsumu always believed that being born a twin meant you were never supposed to be alone, not truly. How could you be born part of a perfect matching set only to end up on your own? It felt wrong, it always had. That was why Samu had always been the world to him. For Tsumu, being Samu's brother was as intrinsically part of him as his hands, his eyes, his legs; there was no way to remove that part of himself, not without far too much pain. So he remained Samu's brother, even if it was only in his heart, buried deep so it couldn't be used against him. It was a secret treasure just for him, one that hurt to hold onto, but would hurt much more to lose.
Everything kind of goes to shit eventually, when after a year or two, Omi proposes after they win the Olympics. It was on international television. It made headlines. The sports channel and gossip rags were talking about the same thing for once.
And then Osamu called.
Tsumu almost didn't answer.
He was so happy and he wanted to share it with Samu, but he wanted to hoard it to himself more. But Omi left him alone with a look that said 'answer it,' so he did.
It was silent on the line when he answered, and Tsumu didn't say anything to break it. It was Samu who spoke first.
"Yer gettin' married?"
It took a moment to respond. Samu's voice took him by surprise, how quiet and shaky it was. "Yeah," he said. "Eventually."
"I didn't know the two of ya were together."
Tsumu could've laughed at the irony of it if it didn't sting to hear.
"Never came up, I guess."
"I- Yeah. Guess not. Not much does, these days, it seems."
Atsumu pressed a hand to his mouth and stared at the door Omi had left through, pushing down the urge to scream or maybe cry. It had been two or so years since he'd left, and Samu had never even noticed the difference until now.
"What happened?" Samu asked, voice shaking that way it did when he refused to cry. "What happened to us, Tsumu?"
Atsumu took a deep breath, letting it out with a sigh. "Samu, if you don't know, it's not gonna matter."
He wasn't trying to be obtuse. He didn't want to guilt Samu into anything. But if Samu couldn't tell that he'd caused this, that he'd always been the one to push that distance further and further... If he couldn't see that much, Tsumu didn't know if he could fix it.
He couldn't do it on his own. He couldn't put himself through that again, not after he'd put this much work in to help himself.
"I don't- I don't know. I don't know why ya wouldn't tell me. I thought we told each other things like this."
Tsumu's laugh was harsh. "Ya can't be serious."
"What’d'ya mean? I'm dead serious, Tsumu."
"After Suna? Ya think ya have any right to say that?"
"What-I- that was different, Tsum. Ya found out eventually, and not because I got proposed to on live television."
"'Cause it was so much better walkin' in on the two of ya fuckin' after ya told me ya couldn't come visit 'cause ya got caught up at work!"
"And I told ya I was sorry! I didn't think ya were gonna come over, ya lived two cities away!"
"And I wanted to see ya!" Atsumu yelled. "I wanted to see my brother, was that so bad?!"
Of course that wouldn't have occurred to Samu, Tsumu thought, because he wouldn't have done the same. Samu only came when Tsumu invited him. At the very least he'd call ahead. He never surprised him. He didn't go out of his way because he wanted to see Tsumu.
"It doesn't matter," Atsumu said, sucking in a deep breath. "I already told ya. Look I- I don't wanna do this. At all. Right now. I just- I just got engaged, Samu. I just won the Olympics. You've had forever to do this, why'd'ya hafta do it now?"
Samu was silent for a long time. "Is it so bad? Did I do somethin' so bad to ya?"
"Samu, please, not- not now."
"Ya can't even tell me? I'm your brother, Tsumu, we can't just-"
"Brothers?” Atsumu laughed. It came out like a sob. "Samu, when was the last time you acted like a brother to me?"
"I- what?"
"Samu, when- God, I don't wanna do this right now. Fuck." He wished he could go back just five minutes and not answer the call. Hold onto Omi instead.
"Do ya even know when I realized ya were tearin' me apart?" Atsumu asked, throwing an arm over his face. "It's been two years now, and ya just now noticed. You and Rin just- the two of ya- ya don't even know how much ya hurt me. Ya didn't even care."
"H-hurt ya? Tsumu, what're ya talkin' about? What's Rin gotta do with this?"
"Look, I don't- I just- do we hafta do this now?"
"Yes we hafta do it now!" Samu spit. "What the hell are you talkin' about?"
"God, I just- fuck, Samu, I couldn't stand it anymore! You know I love ya more than anythin'. Do you know how it was for me? Always 'Tsumu's too much', 'Tsumu's being dramatic', 'Tsumu's too clingy'. I just cared about ya! But it was too much for ya. Both of ya. I thought, for so long, that somethin' was wrong with me. I thought 'even my own brother thinks it's too much, the way I love people'. Do you know how long it took for me to realize it was okay? That there wasn't somethin' wrong with me?
"Everythin' I did, everythin' I am was too much for ya. Too much for Rin. And ya couldn't even just- just pretend, or even tolerate it. Ya made- ya made me feel so bad. All the time. And ya never once- never made me feel like ya gave a shit about me.
"Yer my twin, that- to me, that means everythin', Samu. It means everythin' to me. You mean everythin' to me, and it- it hurts so bad, knowin' ya don't care, knowing I'm not the person you wanna tell things to, the person that ya rely on. God, to you I'm just- what? A burden? Just the person ya ended up stuck with? Did ya ever want me around or was I just there?
"‘Cause I always wanted you around. I wanna tell ya everythin', good or bad, big or small. Yer the one I've always- always relied on. I always told ya everythin'. And ya know what you did? Ya went and told Rin. Anythin' I told ya, secret or not, ya went and told Rin. And when you had somethin' to share, who did ya go to? Rin. Always Rin, never me. "Ya never cared that some things I only wanted you to know. Ya never cared that I wanted to be there to cheer you on or support ya. Ya never- I was never important to ya, not like you are to me. And that's- there's nothin' I can do about that, but I couldn't keep puttin' myself through it. So ya don't get to call after all this time and say I owe ya anythin' because we're 'brothers’. Ya lost that right, Samu."
Tsumu broke off, only vaguely realizing he'd ended up yelling. He was breathing heavy, eyes stinging, throat tight. This wasn't how he'd wanted his night to go. He should've been spending time with Omi, thinking about a ring since Omi had proposed with a medal.
He could hear Samu breathing over the phone, ragged and uneven, hitching with nearly silent sobs.
"D'ya see, Samu?" Atsumu whispered. "It's not- I can't fix this. I spent- I spent so long chasin' you. So long pretendin'. I won't do that to myself again, Samu. It hurt too much."
"I didn't-" Samu sounded broken. "I didn't know. I didn't mean to-"
"I know," Tsumu interrupted. "I know ya didn't, but that doesn't mean anythin' to me. I never wanted ya to treat me one way out of pity or guilt. I wanted it because yer my brother, and if ya- if ya cared about me like how I care about you, it wouldn't... It doesn't matter now.
"Look, Samu... I'm not mad at ya. Not anymore. And I still love ya more than anythin', that'll never change. But I got engaged tonight. I won the Olympics. And I don't wanna hurt right now. I just wanna be happy for a night, Samu. Can I have that much from ya, at least?"
Tsumu waited until Samu choked out a fragile ‘yes’, and then hung up and tossed his phone away. That was not what he'd envisioned for tonight. He felt simultaneously drained and like he might burst at the seams.
It took a while for Omi to come back, but when he did, he found Tsumu with his head between his knees, breathless and shaking as he cried.
Omi didn't ask him about anything, he just wrapped him up in his arms and told him he'd done well, and he was proud of him. It didn't ease the pain, but it helped some.
It helped because, even after everything, it was hard for Tsumu to not feel like he'd overreacted.
In his mind, Samu was talking with Suna right now, complaining about how Tsumu always did this, blew up for no reason just to make a fuss. Even after all this time, Atsumu wondered if he was the one in the wrong, the one making a big deal out of nothing, causing Samu problems again.
But Omi was there, holding him, reminding him with his words and his presence that it wasn't Atsumu's fault. That he hadn't done anything wrong by setting his boundaries, by recognizing what his love was worth.
They didn't celebrate that night, or even the next, but eventually they did, and Atsumu was happy even if he'd always pictured that his brother would be there for a moment like this.
Omi asked at one point when Tsumu would want the wedding, but Atsumu just fell silent and Omi understood. Nothing was going to happen yet. Tsumu has given up enough, but he couldn't... he couldn't give that up too. He may not have been Samu's best man, but he still wanted Samu to be his. and that couldn't happen right now, so he couldn't even begin to think about the rest of it. But Omi understood, and he was patient.
Time passed, as it was wont to do, and Tsumu settled again— or at least he would have, but Samu and Suna were acting... weird. It wasn't really anything obvious at first, especially since neither of them ever brought up the phone call, but...
First was Tsumu's mom, who mentioned on their weekly call that Samu had been bothering her like crazy, asking about their high school days and what she remembered about the three of them. Then Kita texted saying ‘Do you know if Osamu is in therapy? it may be a good idea.’ Which in Kita speak meant ‘Your brother's acting weird as fuck, tell him to leave me alone and bother someone who's paid to put up with him.’ Then Samu texted, saying he was going to be in town for a weekend. He'd be really busy, so he was getting a hotel room so he wouldn't disturb Tsumu with his comings and goings, but he had a potential opportunity to open up a new branch and he had to check things out.
“Could we meet?” he'd asked, and Tsumu stared at his phone for a long time, because they'd never been the kind of people who had to ask about things like that. “‘course,” he'd texted, biting his lip. “Lmk when you have time, we'll go out to eat.”
Then Suna called out of the blue after a game that Tsumu had watched on the TV in the living room. "Rin?" Tsumu answered, turning the volume down even though he liked watching post-game commentary. "Ya okay?"
"Did ya watch the game?" Suna asked, no greeting or anything.
"Yeah, just had it on. T'was good."
"It was ratshit," Suna grunted. "They got through half my blocks no problem, and shut me out more than not." Atsumu blinked at the TV screen, playing highlight reels of the game. The game Suna had just called him out of the blue to talk about.
"Wasn't yer best," he admitted slowly, Suna could be a bit prickly about his abilities when he didn't do well. "But ya knew goin' in yer usual tricks wouldn't be the most effective with them. An ace like that is hard to stop, and he happens to be built like a tank. Ya had a lot of good receives in the back row, kept yer team goin'."
Suna hummed, and Tsumu could hear the weary disappointment. "I guess. I just wanted to do better."
"I know ya did." Because Suna always did. Tsumu wondered if maybe Suna had meant to call Samu instead? "But what's done is done, no use workin' yerself up about it. Practice harder, so they can't shut ya out next time."
"I know. I know, yer right, I'm just..."
"I know. You should have Samu make ya some hirata buns. Ya always liked those when we lost."
Suna was quiet for a moment. "Yers are better than yer brother's," he finally grumbled, and Tsumu's cheeks flushed at the unexpected praise. "But yeah. Thanks, Tsum. I gotta go, coach wants to debrief. Thanks for pickin' up.”
Atsumu stared at his phone for a long time after the call ended.
Weird things like that kept happening. Tsumu came home to Omi unboxing a package of individually wrapped onigiri from Samu's shop that he'd found waiting by the door when he got home. Suna kept sending him pictures of the stray cat that kept showing up behind their apartment. Kita texted again asking ‘How have you been, Atsumu?', which made Atsumu's lip start wobbling and Omi called him a crybaby. Even Bo asked him at practice if something had happened with Samu, because apparently Akaashi had gone in to eat and kept having to text Bo questions because Samu kept hounding him about Tsumu; how he was? Was he doing well in practice? Did he have good friends on the team? Was Omi good to him?
Eventually, Samu was in town, and they met up to eat at a Chinese hot pot place between Tsumu's home and Samu's hotel. It was their first time seeing each other in person since before the phone call, and Tsumu was nervous. He'd thought about inviting Omi with him, but Omi had straight up refused. "Call me if you need me," he'd said, with a voice that said he'd be there in a heartbeat, but he told Atsumu this was something he probably had to do on his own. And Samu hadn't brought Suna, which was rare even when Suna was in season, so Tsumu agreed to return the courtesy. Just them, then. Tsumu and Samu, Samu and Tsumu. What a ridiculous thing to be scared of.
In the end, though it was just the two of them, they got enough food for four. it was almost distracting enough to drown out the inescapable awkwardness between them. Almost.
Atsumu didn't want to bring anything up, not when they were having an almost normal meal again, so he let Samu guide the conversation.
Samu told him about the property he'd gone to visit here in the city, a small restaurant that had been a ramen shop before it shut down. Tsumu looked at the pictures he was shown and agreed that it looked like a good place, though Samu would need a refrigerated display. Samu told him that their ma was trying to grow radishes in her window boxes, and Tsumu laughed and pretended that was the first he'd heard of it. Samu explained, staring fixedly at the vegetables floating in the spicy broth, that Suna thought it was best he didn't come this time, so it didn't feel like the two of them were ganging up on Tsumu again when they apologized, and Tsumu-
Tsumu blinked.
"If we came to ya, both of us at once, wouldn't it still feel like it was us versus you?" Samu asked quietly. "I didn't- I didn't tell him everythin' you told me, I swear, but he's always been smarter than us, he put it together since... with everythin' you said the last time, I didn't wanna seem like we were just apologizin' to get over it, ya know? And we thought, maybe, showin' up together might not be the best way to show we heard ya and everythin'."
Tsumu blinked at Samu, who blinked at the sweet potato that bobbed to the surface of the boiling soup.
"Look, Tsumu," Samu said, "I don't know when... when I started treatin' ya so bad. I don't know, and I don't know how I never noticed, or how I never saw when you… when you had enough of it. I never wanted to push ya like that. I never wanted to hurt ya. I know it's too late to say stuff like that, and I know it doesn't really matter, not when it can't change anythin', but it's true. And I'm sorry we made it impossible for you to talk to us. I know you tried to, and we just- just laughed it off. That was... fuck. I'm sorry, Tsumu. I really, really am. And ya don't hafta forgive me for it, not now, or- or ever, if ya don't want to. What we did, what I did- it wasn't fair to you. And more than that, I never should've... yer my brother, Tsumu. I should've been there for ya, I should've been the one you could come to when ya felt like shit or wanted to cry about somethin'. I should've been the person you could tell about yer first day in the big leagues, or yer new friends, or, or gettin' engaged. And- and ya still told me about so much of it, even when I-" he broke off with a frustrated sound. Samu had never been good at talking.
"I betrayed yer trust in me," Samu forced out. "And did it over and over, even when ya kept givin' me more chances." Samu took a deep breath, and he finally looked up to meet Tsumu's eyes. "I'm sorry I didn't keep yer secrets. I'm sorry I didn't listen when you needed me to. I'm sorry I ever made ya feel like you were wrong for trustin' me, for believin' that you deserved someone to be there for ya. You do, Tsumu. You always did, and I'm sorry it wasn't me.
“Most of all," he took a deep breath and started again. "Most of all, I'm sorry I made ya feel like you weren't a brother to me.
"We've always been more different that people think, but I still should've met ya halfway instead of makin' you cover the distance alone every time. I should've known how you are and what you need, the way you always have for me. And Rin- I'm not gonna apologize for him, he'll do that himself, but you always took care of him too. The three of us... we should've all looked out for each other, but you took care of all of us, and Rin and I just- we just looked out for ourselves. I'm sorry, Tsumu. And ya don't hafta let me, but I wanna make it up to ya. I wanna be- I wanna be brothers again, how we used to be. And i'll do the work, i'll go the whole distance, i'll do whatever ya need. You won't be alone in it anymore, I promise ya.
"I just want my big brother back, Tsumu. I miss ya, and I can't do all this without ya."
Atsumu met Samu's gaze, shell shocked at the sudden apology, and neither of them spoke for a long moment. Then suddenly, they both sniffed and tore their eyes away-the kind of in sync move that used to get them "There it is! Twin telepathy!" when they were young.
"Fuck, now I'm cryin' into the soup," Samu grumbled under his breath, wiping at his face roughly with the back of his wrist. "Why'd we hafta do this right now?"
"Hah?! Yer the one who brought it up, what do you mean we?!" Tsumu cried out, wiping his own face with a handful of paper napkins. "This is yer fault, not mine!"
"It's not my fault I had to apologize!" Samu retorted on instinct, and both of them paused. Tsumu sent him a thoroughly unimpressed glare- as much of a glare as he could manage when his eyes wouldn't stop watering.
"Say that again, slowly," Tsumu invited. "Yeah, yeah, I heard it as soon as I said it," Samu grunted, face pink. "Are we gonna keep talkin' about it or can we eat?"
"Well for one, I don't think yer in a place to be makin' demands right now," Tsumu said with as haughty a sniffle as he could manage. “And for two, I get hungry when I cry so food now, talk later."
"I know ya do, that's why I asked in the first place," Samu grumbled, but he swiped a piece of Tsumu's lamb and swished it around in the mala broth, just how Tsumu liked it, before reaching across the table and dropping it in Tsumu's dipping sauce.
It was hardly anything really, but Tsumu stared at it for a while. there were some things, he supposed, that Samu had noticed about him. Had remembered through the years. It didn't absolve him of his wrongs, it didn't fix things, but... it was nice to know, anyway. Tsumu wondered if Samu thought of him when he went out to eat with Suna, the way Tsumu always did; scanning the menu briefly to figure out what his brother would order if he was there.
Did Samu think about him when the first fireflies of the season began to appear, the ones they used to chase around with a glass jar in late summer?
Did he think of him, like Tsumu did, when that song came on the radio- the one their ma would sing out loud while she cleaned the kitchen, Tsumu and Samu watching cartoons in the next room?
Did he think of him, sometimes, when he woke up and there wasn't someone there? A matching set that had climbed under the covers with him when the thunder got too loud?
Even after all this time, so much of Tsumu's world was built by Samu. the smell of fireworks and takoyaki during matsuris, the sailor moon theme song they performed for their grandparents when they were six, the scar on his big toe where Samu nearly bit it off as a baby.
It was impossible to go a day without thinking about him, even if he tried. Samu was ingrained in his very being, always had been. Was he the same to him, tattooed on his soul from start to finish?
They ate in relative silence: Samu bracing himself for what would come next, Tsumu trying. his best to just make sense of things. A long time ago he'd posted on one of those advice forums, hurt and confused and searching for answers. They had come, mostly in the form of "Family or not, a relationship like that is more harm than good. Cut ties, put yourself first!", and some half dozen variations just like it. Tsumu had gotten sick thinking about it. He hadn't deleted the post because it was against the forum rules to delete once people had answered, but he made sure to reply to everyone. ‘You don't know what you're talking about. He's my twin brother.’
Dinner was long, though not as long as it could have been if they'd talked, but Tsumu still didn't really know what to say as they left. He wanted to say something like "It's alright, I forgive you, let's go back to how we were before" but he honestly couldn't really remember- couldn't remember when "before" was. It was hard, actually, to remember the last time Samu hadn't... hadn't scared him, at least a little.
When Tsumu went running up to him with something to say, or when he found himself crying after a bad game, or when he wanted attention just because- he couldn't remember the last time he hadn't gone expecting a weary sigh, an eye roll, a derisive laugh.
So he couldn't say it was okay. But he had a chance to have his brother back, and even if it was a bad decision, even if it meant he was the vulnerable one once again... for Samu, he would do it. He would do it again, with his trust and his hope on full display.
But this time- this time, Samu needed to do it too. Belly up and helpless, knowing the costs of failure. Tsumu wouldn't be the only one, not this time.
"I'll let ya," he finally said, the two of them frozen under some streetlight, hands shoved in their pockets to protect them from showing too much. "You and Rin, if he wants to. I'll let ya make it up to me. I want ya to, Samu, and I mean that. I don't want- this isn't some power play, alright? I'm not tryin' to guilt trip you into doin' whatever I want until I decide yer forgiven. you know I'd do anythin' for ya, even now. So, don't do this ‘cause ya want somethin' from me. I want ya to do this because you miss me too. I want-" it was hard to ask for what he wanted. "I want ya to treat me well, Samu. I want ya to treat me like someone ya want to be around, someone ya actually- actually love. Not someone ya just got stuck with.”
He took a deep breath. "We've always been brothers because that's how we were born. But I choose to be yer brother every day, Samu. I don't regret it, and I'll do it every day until I die. But you have to make that choice now. You have to prove ya want this, that it- that we, that I, am worth that effort for ya. Got it? Because I've had enough of bein' an afterthought, and I- I know now that I deserve more. So I don't really want yer apologies, to be honest, though I appreciate it nonetheless. If ya wanna make it up to me, I want ya to show up for me. I want ya to care about the things I love, to listen to me when I talk, even if ya think it's just a nod along if I'm mad! I want to know that I can go to ya about anythin'. That ya won't judge me, won't laugh at me or put me down, and I'm not- I'm not askin' ya to treat me like a princess or anythin'. I can take a joke, but ya need to know where the line is. And it won't work if I hafta point it out to ya every time. You need to pay attention. You need to care enough that I don't hafta worry about whether or not I'm linin' up to be laughed at. Understand?"
The worry that he was asking too much, making a fuss over nothing, was still incessant in the back of his mind. But he thought about his friends, about Omi, about the way he'd always shown up for Samu and Suna. If it wasn't too much for them, why would it be too much for him?
It still felt dramatic, a bit excessive, but- Samu was nodding fiercely, a determined frown pulling at his lips. "I'll do it," he said, so sure of himself. "You've always done it for us, haven't ya? If you can do it, I can do it."
Tsumu blinked. Scowled. "This isn't a competition, ya scrub! Take it seriously!"
"I'm dead serious!" Samu huffed. "Besides, what have we ever taken more seriously than a competition? All I'm sayin' is, genetically or whatever, there's no reason you should be all good at something that I can't do. So, if you can do it, I can do it. I will. I'm serious, Tsumu. Not to get anythin', not to prove anythin', just- just because, alright? You deserve it, and I miss ya, and I wanna be- I wanna be someone you trust again. I wanna be good to ya."
And it was just words- it was just promises that might or might not be kept, but it was more than Atsumu had ever expected. He was terrified, sure, but this... this meant the world to him, and he was willing to take the risk.
"Alright, alright. Then, that's it then, yeah? We've aired our grievances-"
"You aired your grievances."
"All that's left is puttin' yer money where yer mouth is. And if this is a competition-"
"It is, at least a little bit."
"Then ya should know the stakes."
Atsumu leveled Samu with a steady look. "It better end in a tie. ‘Cause if I come out on top again, I'm not risking a third chance. If I'm the one giving everything again, I'm not going to give any more.”
"Loud and clear," Samu agreed with a nod.
"And if I win, ya never get to bring up me quittin' volleyball around ma ever again.'' It was such a stupid bet, but Tsumu knew better. Samu put the odds in his favor- everything he did would be for Tsumu's benefit, not his own. If he won, all he would gain was Atsumu.
The way he looked at him now, eyes still a little pink around the edges, shoulders tight in that way they got before a fight... that was enough. Atsumu, for once, would be enough.
"Deal," Tsumu finally said, offering an outstretched pinky. Samu locked it with his own, pressed their thumbs together. "Deal."
Things weren't fixed yet, not by a long shot, but for once, Atsumu felt like things might be okay. Maybe in a year, he could plan a wedding. Have his brother as his best man, and his best friend could wipe his ma's tears when she started crying too hard.
It was far away still, but if there was one thing Tsumu knew better than anything, it was his brother, and the look in Samu's eyes said I'll do whatever it takes. Tsumu knew that look because he wore it the same.
To be brothers again, I'll do whatever it takes.
For the first time in his life, Atsumu entered a competition hoping he would lose.
#bakubajific#haikyuu!!#threadfic#long post#miya twins#post timeskip#sunaosa#sakuatsu#hurt/comfort#loneliness#insecurity#fix it fic#sort of#family angst#setting boundaries and making amends#this is not an osamu and suna loving fic#but i do love them dearly#slaps fic: you can fit so many feelings in this bad boy#but most of them are sad
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Therapy Fit for a God Chapter 30
Loki/OFC Rated E: Trigger Warnings: Smut, Sex, Oral Sex, Angst, talk of suicide, therapy, unhealthy family dynamics, mention of torture and mind control, touch starved, drinking, memory loss.
Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14, Chapter 15, Chapter 16, Chapter 17, Chapter 18, Chapter 19, Chapter 20, Chapter 21, Chapter 22, Chapter 23, Chapter 24, Chapter 25, Chapter 26, Chapter 27, Chapter 28, Chapter 29
Loki’s plans to conquer and rule Midgard have come to a disastrous end. After being captured by the Avengers, he is being held on Earth. Odin has refused to interfere, and the outlook for the God of Mischief appear bleak. His only hope may lie in one mortal woman, a Psychiatric expert brought in to interrogate him.
Dr. Caroline Thorpe is intrigued by Loki and thinks that more lies beneath his actions than is commonly known. Can she find out the truth before he is shipped off to die for crimes against the Earth? And can Loki bring himself to care?
@yespolkadotkitty @just-the-hiddles @hopelessromanticspoonie @wine-and-whines @arch-venus25 @caffiend-queen @devilish–doll @enchantedbyhiddles @hiddlesholic @i-do-not-fangirl-i-fanwoman @kellatron55 @ladyoftheteaandblood @latent-thoughts @yespolkadotkitty@maryxglz @myoxisbroken @nuggsmum @nildespirandum @pedeka @redfoxwritesstuff @sinfully-lustful-darling @vodka-and-some-sass @wrathkitty @kingtwhiddleston @wolfsmom1 @poetic-fiasco @shiningloki @dangertoozmanykids101 @bookworm-christina @amwolowicz @delightfulheartdream @frostbitten-written @what-a-flammable-heart @tom-hlover @nonsensicalobsessions @myraiswack @loki-yoursaviourishere @ghostypau @ms-cellanies @colorfulfreakstudentpizza @mareebird @colorfulfreakstudentpizza @szycha22 @chokemedaddyloki @queenofallhobos @just-the-hiddles-reads @alwida10 @justjoanne242 @chantsdemarins @lovelysizzlingbluebird @lokiprompts @evieplease @unlucky-number-13 @bitchassbecky691 @georges-left-ear @mischief2sarawr @thedistractedagglomeration
Everything in the world seemed big. He was scared. Cold. Could not bring his mind to form words to fit to his thoughts.
Ice and rock surrounded him, looming up from the ground and down from the ceiling like monster fangs ready to devour him. The dark haired woman who had cooed to him, who had looked at him with a soft, gentle gaze, was no longer within his range of vision. He was alone. It was terrifying.
Yet as terrifying as it was to be alone, the giant who burst into the space was infinitely worse. He was huge and wild, covered in blood like some beast. One hand gripped a brutal looking axe, and a gauged hole was all that remained of one eye.
"Odin," the voice in his mind breathed. He was not alone then, not completely.
As Loki shrunk back onto the slab of stone the woman had carefully placed him on, the giant turned and pierced him with his one good eye.
"What have we here?"
His voice was little more than a growl. Loki could feel the animosity in it. Rough hands reached down to pick him up and carry him closer to a bristly beard and mustache surrounding a pair of pursed lips. There was no warmth, no kindness for him in that look. Instinctively, wanting to calm the fire of the creature's dislike, Loki tried to figure out why this man might loathe him so. He must look like a monster to the monster, he reasoned. Hoping to mollify the man, he thought of the woman who had held him before, the one other face he could remember. Bringing all the concentration he could muster, Loki willed himself to appear more like her.
He must have done something right, because the huge man looked intrigued now, rather than repulsed. Still, he kept Loki clutched in his oversized hands.
"Odin," the dark-haired woman's voice was not as it was when she had spoken so sweetly to Loki. It seemed as cold as the room around them.
The giant spun, and Loki was able to just make out once more the woman. She was slumped on the floor, fatigue stamped onto a beautiful face. Loki could feel waves of love around her and wished that it was she who held him now.
"Volla!"
He feared for a moment that the man would drop him and let out a startled little wail. The hands instead closed tighter around him, and he found that this was almost as bad.
"Where have you been? We have been frantic in our search for you!"
"I have been here, at least of late," her voice held humor, but a touch of pain as well.
"You sister is mad with worry. You disappeared without so much as a by your leave!"
"Perhaps because I tired of living by your leave, Odin Allfather. I wanted to live for myself, to find out what the worlds had to offer."
"Had to offer? I had secured you an offer of mariage that would have made you a Queen of Alfheim!"
"Yes, but I never really cared for Elves. Too much musty, esoteric poetry. And Freyr is such a bore. We would never have suited."
"You could have said as much," his voice was angry, and Loki began fussing in his grasp.
"I would have helped you, Volla. I would have given you the life you desired. I only wanted to protect you," the voice in Loki's mind sounded sad.
"You expect the Goddess of Secrets to share her inner thoughts?" Volla asked, again with a mischievous curl of her lips. "No, you know you would not have approved of what I wanted for myself."
"And what was that?"
"Adventure! To live a full and tumultuous life."
"And I suppose this creature here is the result of that? He is yours I take it?"
"He is," Loki heard pride in her voice, and a warmth spread through him despite the cold. "My little Loki."
"My little Loki! How could I not have known?"
"And where is the father then, who left you here to suffer the trial of delivery alone? Does he have so little respect for a Goddess?"
"He could not be with me," she said with a frown. "Some bellicose berserker of a King came rampaging in with an army, forcing him to go to war."
"Then I was right. It is the child of one of those cursed brutes."
"It is the child of ME!" she corrected, struggling to rise up as much as she could. "The son of a Goddess and of a King!"
"No!" Odin gasped, holding Loki further from his chest, bringing back the fear of plummeting to the stone floor. "Even you, wild and capricious as you are, would not be so brazen!"
"You hold in your hands the first-born son of Laufey, King of Jotunheim," her words echoed about them.
"Laufey's heir!"
"Perhaps," her voice lost some of its assurance.
"What do you mean? If this is his son..."
"Not if Odin. It is his son. But while Laufey would love the babe, there would be some trouble with his subjects. As you well know, I am not his wife. And Hyrrokkin is a jealous bride. She would attempt to set him aside so that her brood, if she can ever tempt Laufey to her bed long enough to sire one, would rule."
"And yet you lowered yourself to birth his bastard," Odin's voice dripped with disappointment.
"I wanted a child. A strong, clever child. Laufey gave one to me. It is an unexpected misfortune that I will not be around to guide him to his birthright."
"What do you mean?"
"Use your eyes, Odin. Or eye, I should say. I am dying. My time came early, and as you so kindly pointed out, there was no one to assist in the birthing. I fear my little Loki will have to make do without me."
"Volla, no!"
"Oh, my darling girl." Loki wished he could comfort the lady who's voice he heard, so bereft did she sound.
Odin knelt down beside her in a movement so sudden that Loki cried out in fear. He could smell her now, though. Even though her scent was mixed with sweat and an odd metallic tang it still comforted him to be near her.
"I fear it is so," she said simply, reaching out to tenderly brush Loki's face.
"I will not lose you. Frigga loves you too well, and you have been all but a child to us both. A willful, stubborn child, but no less dear for all for all of that."
"Even you cannot stop death, Odin. But while I may not be able to return with you, I leave you a happy replacement."
"You cannot mean for me to take the child?"
Loki realized on some level that they were talking of him now, and anxious noises began to bubble up from inside him.
"I cannot raise him, and in my absence Hyrrokkin will seek to do him harm. Bring him to Frigga. Let him help heal the hurt my death will cause her."
"Nothing will do that. This will destroy her. The babe that killed you will be no substitute."
"My sister is stronger than you think. And Loki did not kill me! That was but chance and my own will to do as I please. Promise me, Odin Bor's Son. Swear to me now an oath over my death's blood that you will take my child to raise as a Prince of the Nine Realms."
"She knows me better than you do, old man."
There was a long moment where only Loki's own soft cries broke the silence. At last, the giant holding him bowed his head in acquiescence.
"I so swear. Loki son of Volla shall have a place in my hall and at my table, to be cared for as befits his birth and station as child of a Goddess."
"Thank you."
It was as though all the energy she had put forth to extract the promise from him had been the only thing holding her upright. With her words, she sank back against the wall, limp and spent. Odin took her slim pale had in his and brought it to his face in an oddly gentle gesture. Loki was surprised to see a fat tear fall from his intact eye.
"Ancestors," Odin intoned, words sound ripped from somewhere deep inside him, "Volla, Goddess of Secrets comes to you now. Know how much she was loved in life and grant her a seat in your halls among the glorious dead."
Another tear fell down, splashing onto Loki's face and causing his own eyes to close and for him to begin to cry as well. The tears mixed together, and in the swirl of saltwater his mind began to blur again.
He wanted to stay. He desperately wanted to stay with this dark-haired woman who named him and loved him. But the other woman, the one who had kept watch over him and helped to steer his course through all of these swirling memories was weeping. He could do nothing for the one but perhaps, if he could find her again, he could be of aid to the other.
"Come back to me, my Loki, my nephew and my son. Come back to yourself. Be whole and be happy."
***
"Odin, Son of Bor! We need to have a conversation. Now."
Caroline winced involuntarily as the door to the room slammed behind Frigga. In her brief time on Asgard, Loki's adopted mother had been kind, understanding, regal, everything one would expect and hope for her to be. While Caroline had been a bit intimidated by her, it had never occurred to her to outright fear Frigga.
That ended now as she stormed up to her husband, eyes blazing with anger. While not as bulky as her husband, Frigga stood nearly as tall as him, and the way her hand fingered the dagger on her hip spoke of more than a passing familiarity with a blade. Against her natural inclination Caroline could almost feel a reluctant sympathy for Odin.
"Frigga, you look upset," Odin stated the obvious. Is something bothering you? Perhaps we should go someplace private to discuss it."
Frigga's eyes narrowed to slits as she glared at her husband.
"We will speak right here and now," she proclaimed, voice commanding the room. "Is there anything you wish to tell me, my husband? Think long and hard."
"Asgard could not wish for a better Queen than you." Odin tried.
So fast that for a moment she thought she had imagined it, Caroline saw Frigga's hand shoot out and strike Odin squarely across his face hard enough that his whiskered head snapped to one side.
"Try again," his Queen instructed.
"Mother, what has come over you?" Thor's voice rang with concern.
"I wondered," Frigga's eyes did not move from her husband's face, "why it was that you were so opposed to Loki regaining his memories. After all, the secret had been let out. Our son might not remember his true origins, but enough others did that it hardly mattered beyond a personal level. The tale of Odin Allfather adopting the son of his mortal enemies and raising him for reasons benevolent or nefarious depending on the teller's inclinations was loose in the world."
"I wanted to spare you and our son grief," Odin tried to explain.
"Silence!" Much to Caroline's surprise Odin's jaw snapped shut. "As I was saying, there was no reason to keep secret the truth of Loki's Jotun blood. What then, would it be that you feared from the procedure?"
"Could I not simply worry about my younger son?"
"You could," Frigga snarled. "But you didn't. You feared something else. Tell me, Odin Allfather, Son of Bor. The story of how you found our son, a newborn babe, left all alone to freeze to death on an altar to some unknown God. That wasn't quite the way it happened, was it?"
"Frigga - "
"Mother, what are you saying?" Thor was blinking with confusion.
"You said it was a temple, didn't you?" Frigga asked in a tone of clamped down anger.
"I did, and it was."
"What sort of temple?" Frigga demanded.
"I don't see why -"
"WHAT SORT OF TEMPLE?"
"A Valor temple," Odin muttered.
"A Valor temple. On Jotunheim. That didn't strike you as strange?"
"Of course it did," Odin sounded like a truculant child. "That is why I was investigating in the first place."
"I see. And this temple, was it to any particular Valar God?"
"If you have something to say, just say it, Frigga," Odin snapped, changing tactics as his face turned red, obscuring the mark of his wife's handprint.
"Volla." Frigga hissed. "It was a temple to Volla."
"It may have been."
"May have been," Frigga mimicked harshly. "You think that in any universe I would not recognize a temple to my own sister?"
Caroline was uncertain what was happening under the words spoken by the Asgardian royal couple, but the air vibrated with tension and hostility. A quick glance to Thor was enough to show her that he was almost as lost as she was.
"My love -"
"You saw her!" Frigga wailed. "You spoke with her. My sister, the child I had all but raised after our parents left us for the ancestors' halls. I was nigh mad with grief and worry, scouring the universe for her. You found her and you hid that knowledge from me. You let me go on searching for her for decades, when you had witnessed her passing yourself."
"Father is this true?"
"Stay out of this, Thor," Odin shouted at his first born.
"Do not take out your guilt on our son!" Frigga stepped between Odin and Thor. "Answer me, husband. You saw my sister in her last moments."
"I did," Odin admitted reluctantly after a pregnant pause.
Once more, the sound of Frigga's slap echoed through the room.
"She had disgraced herself!" Odin said, clearly in pain but ignoring it. "We had thought she might have been abducted or have been on some secret quest on behalf of her devotees. Any of a dozen explanations had been bandied about as a reason for her disappearance, and any of them would have been more admirable than the truth that. I wanted to spare you the knowledge that your sister had left us of her own free will to become whore to the enemy."
He was clearly expecting the third slap, as he grabbed her wrist mid-swing. He was not, however, expecting the quick knee up that followed it. Odin staggered backwards, releasing Frigga as he doubled over in pain.
"My sister was a Princess of Valor and the Goddess of Secrets," Frigga's voice was ice cold. "She was no whore. She was a free spirit who chose to give herself to a King as his Consort. There is no shame in this. She gave birth to a son, the firstborn son of a King and a Goddess, a God in his own right. Her only mistake was in trusting you to care for him."
"I did care for him!" Odin's voice was rough with pain. "I brought him to you!"
"Yes, you brought him to me. You gave me the great joy of a second child to love and take pride in. You watched as we formed a bond of great depth, forged in no small part by our shared attributes. And did it never once occur to you to tell me he was my nephew? I had a living connection to my sister in the form of her only child and you kept that knowledge from me! How could you?"
"The people would not have understood her liaison to the leader of our enemies. That would have tainted their love of you. I wanted to protect your name!"
"You wanted to protect yourself! I don't give a damn about my name, and you know that. Let the people come to me if they have concerns. I have never once done anything to give them reason to doubt my devotion to the realm."
"The people love mother," Thor said quietly, daring his father's anger once more. "Of all of us, she is most beloved, and with reason."
"Thank you, Thor," Frigga's tone softened as she looked at her son.
"What does all this mean, mother?" Thor asked, struggling to make sense of it all.
Caroline couldn't blame him. The accusations had flown fast and viciously. She herself felt like an uncouth interloper in the middle of a family drama. Still, she felt the need to bear witness for Loki's sake, that she could let him know the level of devotion his mother showed him and, it seemed, his mother.
"It means that Loki was not just a random foundling," Frigga explained gently. "Nor just the cast-off son of King Laufey. Loki is more than your brother of the heart, Thor. He is your cousin, by my blood through his mother. My baby sister Volla, Goddess of Secrets. Who I loved more dear than any until I gave birth to you."
"More than your husband?"
Caroline would give Odin this, he was no coward. The question hung in the air as his queen squared her shoulders and turned to regard him with contempt. Slowly, she took a deep breath through her nose and let it out through her mouth, finding a calm Caroline could only envy.
"Despite my best instincts I do have love for you," the Allmother said at last. "If you wish for that to continue, I suggest finding something to do off realm for the foreseeable future. Perhaps absence will dull the killing anger that assails me when I look at you."
As she watched from the outside of the family triangle, Caroline held her breath, waiting to see how the all-powerful God would take being so dismissed. Thor's eyes comically flickered from his mother's steely stare to his father's glowering indecision. Caroline completely sympathized with him.
"I believe that there is some business on Nidavillere that could use my attention. I will leave in the morning."
"You will leave at once," Frigga's voice left no room for debate. "And you will take your time sorting out this business."
"I will leave at once" Odin growled in defeat. "Thor, you are Regent until my return."
"Yes, Father," Thor said in hushed voice full of amazement.
Odin spun and strode to the door. Only at the last did he stop, turning back to face his wife.
"Tell my son that I am glad that he is well. I do love Loki."
"In your way," Frigga qualified.
"I am what I am, Frigga. You knew that when we wed."
"Go, before I change my mind."
"Farewell, my love."
As Odin swept out of the room, it was as though tide of anger and tension left with him. The moment the door closed behind him it was as though the taut chord that had been keeping Frigga standing was snapped, and the tall, powerful Allmother who had brought low her husband crumpled to the floor, shaking with the tears she had kept unshed all through the confrontation.
***
"Take it slow, Princeling. Your mind is still settling."
The words were said in the dry, confident voice he had known all of his life.
Loki blinked his eyes into focus and saw Eir sitting across the room, legs crossed neatly and a small smile of accomplishment on her face.
"How does it feel to be whole again?" she asked.
"I will let you know," he said, rising carefully to a sitting position. "Was it real? Everything I saw and heard?"
"As real as any memory," she replied. "They lie, of course, from time to time, and are colored by our own perspectives, but for the most part what you saw is what happened."
"I am part Jotun."
It was not quite the first thing that came to his mind, but it was the first he felt comfortable saying in front of the healer. He did not think she would care to discuss how much he longed to go find Caroline and recreate their one blissful night together. If he thought his legs would hold him he would already be out the door.
"You are. Welcome to the family."
"That's right," he looked closer at the woman. "You have Jotun blood as well."
"I do," she said, as though confirming that she had blue eyes. "It was not always as uncommon as it is now."
"You told me that on purpose yesterday, didn't you?" he was still putting things together.
"It occurred to me that you might need someone to talk to who did not share our culture's prejudices. Someone who could share some of the more positive aspects of Jotunheim. I did not realize..."
Loki watched as the Eir drew a breath, clearly working out some internal conflict. It was strange. She had always seemed so unflappable. It was as if she herself was one of the frozen peaks of Jutonheim, cold, immovable, and unforgiving. Perhaps like that realm there was more to her than first glance suggested.
"Your mortal," she said at last. "Caroline. I understand now."
"Understand?" he asked, uncertain what she alluded to.
"I did not see why she should matter to you," Eir explained, if a bit reluctantly. "Mortals have such a short lifespan. They always struck me as shallow, fleeting things. What could they possibly do or say that would be of weight in the grand scope of our lives? Your Caroline though, she is something different. She saw the need in you, as clearly as any healer would, and found a way to help make it whole. She is a remarkable woman."
"She is indeed," Loki smiled, thinking of his tenacious little love building a Jotun bonfire in the woods. "I do not deserve her."
"Few of us get what we deserve. Don't let that stop you."
"Oh, I don't plan to," his grin widened, thinking that nothing would stop him from having her.
"Odin will not like it," Eir warned.
"Imagine how little I care," he replied.
Thinking of his father, Loki was suddenly transported to the memory of Odin confronting the dark haired woman in his memories.
"She was your mother," his expression must have given away his thoughts, as she easily tracked them. "The woman at the end."
"Volla," he said, feeling out the name.
"I knew her a little," Eir told him. "She was young, for a Goddess. Willful, daring. Frigga doted on her and, to my mind, overindulged her. Odin wanted to marry her to Frey, I think in an attempt to steady her. Anyone who knew them could see it would not suit."
"And so she ran away," he filled in the blanks. "And she ended up on Jotunheim."
"It would have intrigued her, I think. Volla loved secrets, finding them, keeping them. A forbidden world would have delighted her."
"I can understand that," Loki said, thinking that he might have more than one part of his legacy to explore in the not too distant future.
"I thought you might," Eir said with a laugh.
"The last part of my memories," he said, thought suddenly coming to him. "Or, should I say, the first. That was not during the period of my lost time."
"It was not."
"Yet you had me relive it anyway. Why?"
"Odin is a strong King of Asgard," Eir said carefully. "But he is not without his flaws. His manner when he returned with you always seemed off to me."
"You were there?" He asked. "You were privy to the secret?"
"I was," she nodded. "They knew, of course, of my heritage, and so they could trust me not to be horrified by a Frost Giant in our midst. I also would understand the prejudices the riled the realm in the wake of the war. I was sworn to secrecy, and then brought in to examine you, to make sure you were not ill, and that you would not suddenly return to your blue color, I am sure. Frigga was too caught up in the joy of a new babe to love, but it seemed to me that Odin was hiding something. It has bothered me all of these many centuries. I have tried to bring it up with Frigga, but..."
"She would not hear a word against her husband," Loki sighed, knowing all too well the wall that went up when Odin was maligned to his wife.
"Indeed. I'm afraid, with you mind laying open like a book before me, I could not resist flipping to the pages where the truth was written and bringing your mother with me. I am not sorry that I did so; Frigga needed to know, as did you. But I acknowledge that I broke my word to you not to dip into your other thoughts. I therefore apologize and will accept your condemnation."
"Given that your suspicions were proven more than right, I accept your apology without condemnation." Loki's face split into a wide, wicked grin. "After all, you were already witness to other memories of a far more personal nature."
Loki was delighted to see Eir's face tinge to scarlet as the memories he referred to crossed her mind.
"As I said," she mumbled, discomposed for perhaps the first time he had ever seen, "I might have underestimated your mortal. She is truly remarkable."
"That she is," he agreed whole heartedly. "In fact, now that the circulation seems to have returned to my legs..."
"And other places," Eir's eyes darted to that part of Loki that always seemed to know when Caroline was being discussed. "Go. Your champion deserves to see you well and whole."
"Thank you, Eir," he said, surprising them both by pulling her into an embrace. "I will never forget what you have done for me."
#Loki#Loki fanfic#Loki/OFC#Odin#Frigga#Thor#Post Avengers#Loki backstory#Therapy#Romance#Loki needs a hug#Loki finds out the truth#Odin gets what's coming to him#Go Frigga!#Eir#Family dynamics#family angst#family drama#finally#truth coming out
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Wolffe & Ahsoka
A little sneak peek!
Ahsoka laid her head on her older brother's shoulder. He trembled. She knew that he liked being alone and was uncomfortable in company with his emotions even screaming from within him. But she wasn't going to leave… she wanted to be one of those who stayed.
Wolffe took a moment before, resting his head on hers.
“Don't leave me,” he whispered, then clenched his teeth to keep the emotion from leaving him.
She respected that. She would let him scream in private when they all left the room. Ahsoka knew that he would find his own way to cope with the loss. Each of them would eventually learn to cope with death… though neither of them would ever be indifferent. They will be soldiers with bleeding hearts… because the war won't let them forget.
“I won't leave you. I will never leave you…” she whispered back.
#commander wolffe#ahsoka tano#ahsoka and wolffe#wolfpack#plo koon and ahsoka tano#plo and wolfpack#family angst#ao3 author#the clone wars#sneak peek#star wars
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All your life, you have wondered what it would feel like to be loved and wanted and now that you are here, you cannot deny that it is a overwhelming feeling.
Thinking about this line and I just wanna know: how would Ahlf feel if he knew that MC didn't feel loved, like genuinely thought that they were an unwanted child and that Ahlf was only taking care of them out of obligation?
I always have to reread these things twice because I forget about writing it 😅
Ahlf would have felt immensely guilty that he made the MC feel unwanted and would blame himself for his bad relationship with the MC. A part of Ahlf would want to fix the relationship and another part would be too afraid to try because he'd worry that he would only make it worse.
Deep down, Ahlf never wanted to take care of the MC, not in Cyre at least. Like the MC can feel, he would have wondered why Salyra didn't just take them to Vinia where they could have had a better life than they did with Ahlf. His reaction would have been his trademark, gruff indifference because he wouldn't know where to start with apologising to the MC for the father he was.
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Keaton x Corrin Commission
(Kana and Velouria get kidnapped, and it’s up to the beast parents to bring them back!!)
Velouria and Kana were both tender pups, only five and three years old respectively. Kana had already shown signs of having an affiinity for the dragonic, while your daughter had transformed into a Wolfskin not once, but twice in the last six months.
Keaton said it could start young, but you weren’t expecting it THAT young. Regardless, the four of you were happy.
The children were safe in their Outrealm, a manor tucked snugly away in the middle of a thick forest, and a place you could not visit often enough. They were growing up so very fast, and you didn’t want to miss a second of it.
You never thought that your time with them could be ripped away from you.
“Whew!!” Keaton emerged from the master bedroom with a long stretch and a satisfied yawn, his arms fell around your waist and pulled you close.
“Good nap?”
“It definitely was! There’s nothing like clean forest air to soothe the senses…when we win the war, we’ll get to move into a big forest house like this one, right?”
“Well…I’m a royal, dear. I don’t think we’ll be able to live anywhere other than the castle.”
“Boo.” Keaton huffed, burying his face in your neck. “Can we at least buy a forest villa or something, for vacations? Like a grotto, or something!”
“We certainly can discuss it. I’m sure Xander won’t have an issue with us wanting a little independence. It’s not like I’m high on the succession list.”
“Then I’ll start asking around for potential forest havens right away!” Keaton grinned, relaxing his hold on you and enjoying the gentle quiet. “...Hmm…where are the kids? It’s awfully peaceful for our typical late afternoon.”
“They’re out playing; but they’re not far off. You should be able to hear them.”
Keaton pricked his ears, searching for the sounds of children laughing or for the lighthearted bickering that often accompanied playtime. It could go either way with those two…which just meant they were quite close.
Sure enough, he could hear them frolicking about in the woods, the crunch of leaves under their feet loud and clear.
His tail swished pleasantly, “Sounds like they’re having loads of fun out there.”
“I’m jealous. Dragon ears can only hear so much, unless I want to transform. I feel like I can’t hide anything from you three.”
“Aww, don’t be jealous. These things are sensitive to just about everything; if you suddenly grew a pair of wolfskin ears, you’d get some serious headaches just trying to suss out all the noises you’d hear! It takes a lot of training to get used to, even when you’re born with them.”
“That’s why Velouria was so fussy as a baby.” You remembered, smiling softly. “She would be so sweet, but if it got too noisy in the house, she wouldn’t hesitate to let us-”
“Wait.”
Keaton’s body was suddenly rigid.
You turned in his arms, which had frozen in place. His eyes were trained out the window, ears standing taller and fidgeting more than before. You knew that look; it filled you with dread.
“...What’s wrong?”
“The children. There’s someone else there.” Keaton said, grabbing your hand and making a break for the door. “Someone we don’t know!”
Just like that, the peace was shattered.
Keaton transformed into his beast form, and you into your dragonf rame.The two of you raced through the woods, frantically chasing the sounds.
Your hearing was able to pick up what Keaton had hundreds of meters back. There were adult voices, followed by the sounds of crashing and fighting. It didn’t take long for your eyes to fall on something, too.
Three men surrounded your children, grabbing them as they tried to get away.
A blast of magic ripped from your mouth, and Keaton was close behind.
But neither of the attacks connected.
A magic barrier shot up, stopping the attacks short and nearly throwing Keaton to the dirt when he collided with it.
“NO!” His distorted voice roared, grabbing the attention of your children.
“Papa!!” Velouria cried out, reaching out for you. Kana, hearing his sister cal out for his father, looked up and saw you both.
“Papa, Mam-!” He was stopped by a hand clapping over his mouth, just before the men broke into a run and put more distance between you.
“Find the edges of the barrier!! I’ll try to break through!!” You shouted to Keaton, before going full force against the barrier. You rammed against it, vollying shot after shot in a panic to break through and get to your children.
Children you could no longer see; and your ability to hear them was fading, too.
“Keaton-”
“I found it!!” He bellowed, and was barreling through the forest with a whole new wave of adrenaline.
He was closing the gap again, and he wasn't going to hesitate.
He could hear the muffled crying of his children’s voices, the commands of the men in a foreign language; it sounded Vallite.
His heart skipped a beat. If they were Vallite…this was worse than he thought.
And he couldn’t let them get away with taking his children.
“YOU!” Keaton saw them, leaping into the clearing. Two of them stopped, swiveling to face Keaton. Each of them had a baby.
Keaton’s eyes flickerd to the pups; but there was a man missing.
Suddenly Keaton was blown off his feetm a gale of Arcwind striking him from behind.
The third man.
“Papa!!” Velouria waile,d watching her magic sensitive father struggle back to his feet.
More Vallieshouts, more frantic. Then the sounds of a spell being cast.
Keaton shrank from his beast form, reaching for the knife he kept in his boot with trembling hands. He struggled for breaht, whipping his eyes up.
A portal had appeared; and they were stepping through it with his babies.
“No,” He choked out, drawing his arm back, “STOP!!”
The blade hurtled through the air.
It reached the magic caster of the group, just before he stepped through. The portal closed as suddenly s it appeared. The knife sunk intoa tree beyond the remnants of the structure.
But none of that mattered.
Keaton had not moved, rooted to the spot with the realization that someon ehad just stolen his children.
His Velouria…his Kana…
They were gone.
“KEATON!!” Your voice echoed through the trees, the dragon quick to catch up to him.
You reverted to your hman form as soon as you got to him, grasping his shoulder. “Where are the children??”
“They got away,” He huffed, struggling to form a coherent thought.
“No…no, we have to go after them, now!! We can’t waste a second!!”
“Go to the Castle Outrealm- tell everyone what happened, and get a party organized quickly!!” Keaton said, gathering hismelf long enough to give an order.
“What will you do? They teleported out of here, there’s nothing else to find!!”
“No…” Keaton shook his head, the smell of blood attacking his senses. It wasn’t his or yours that he was smelling, either. “No, they’re not here anymore. But we can track them from the Castle. We can use magic to enhance our senses- and I can reach out to the Wolfskin for help.”
“What?”
Keaton grabbed your hand and the two of you were running, already summoning the portal back to the Castle.
And when everyone caught wind of what happened…the entire army was on high alert.
Everyone was working, as vivacious as possible, wasting no time in conjuring tracking spells and helping Keaton with enhancing his own senses, as well as reaching out to the Wolfskin. The kitsune were contacted as well, and you were paired up with Rhajat and Nyx in an attempt to find Kana’s dragonstone resonance.
He would always complain about having to lug around that heavy stone, but you were beyond relieved that you had made sure he wore it.
Assuming you could reach out to him in time…it would be just another method to track him down.
But before you could rush to their location, you had to wait.
It was 14 hours, late into the night, after the kidnapping had occurred. You were no closer to finding the children.
Keaton was surrounded by anxious Wolfskin, but would step aside after midnight when he realized you were alone.
Everyone was working beyond hard, and you both knew they wouldn’t stop until you found the answer.
He had been keeping an eye on you the entire time, or rather, an ear.
What compelled him to go to you was when he heard you struggling to hold back your tears. Keaton took your hand as you started to walk away to collect yourself, instead taking you to your quarters.
The moment the door shut, you were in his arms, wrapped up in as tight a hug he could give you. When your dam broke, he knew he wouldn’t be far behind.
“Corrin.”
“I-I…they took our babies.”
“I know.”
“They were there, they were playing, and then…Keaton, what if we don’t find them in time?”
“We will.” He promised, though you both knew it was uncertain, and one he would not be capable of guaranteeing.
Your arms looped around his waist, holding him tight.
“I’m sorry. I know you’re just as scared as I am, it’s just…it’s the thought of them being scared…”
“Yeah. I know, trust me.” He sighed shakily, burying his face in your hair. The scent that normally soothed him was missing among the fear filling his system. “But we gotta be strong.”
You nodded, nuzzling into his chest. “I know…I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be crying up here, when they need me.”
“Don’t mistake crying for weakness,” He corrected himself urgently, pulling back to look at you. His eyes were red, the tear tracks still wet down his cheeks.
You cupped his face, fingers trembling, realizing how deeply he was worried, too.
“We just needed a second to collect ourselves,” You murmured, taking a slow breath and willing yourself to calm. Keaton nodded quietly, pushing away the rest of the droplets that threatened to fall. His other hand remained firm on your shoulder, squeezing softly.
“Each other,” He added with a soft sniff, “Okay. I think we should head back.”
“Are you feeling okay?”
“No, but…I hear a lot of noise,” His ear pricked, tilting towards the door. “I think they got something.”
The two of you hurried back out, and sure enough, he was right.
Leo made it to you first, informing you of his findings; they were able to lock in on a location in an Outrealm that was hostile, but sparse.
It wouldn’t be too difficult to get in with a small team and get the children out. It would take a little time to prepare, but what mattered was you were on your way.
They just had to hold on a little longer. The army was gathered and was ready to go after the bastards who kidnapped the young prince and princess.
Keaton would not leave his beast form until the children were found. There was a tall, angry dragon that would behave similarly, right beside him.
-------------------------
It was an Outrealm that was storming and dark. Sheets of rain drenched you all, but it was completely irrelevant to you. The army would tread carefully but went as quickly as they possibly could.
It wouldn’t take long for Hayato to confirm the location, an old citadel south of the portal.
Keaton was galloping through the mud, pouring on speed as his enhanced sense of smell picked up on the unmistakable scent of his children.
They were close. So very close.
The enemy was shockingly the ones who struck first. It was likely because you were charging straight ahead and making a head-on push to assault the tower.
But their volleys of magic and the arrows that were flying weren’t going to do anything. They never once touched Keaton, and the lucky few that connected with you bounced off your armor.
So long as the two of you led the charge, everyone else would be safe. You were the battering rams.
As soon as you were in range, it was all one. Keaton leapt in front of you with a mighty roar, slamming into the sealed gates. He ripped into the wood, and metal, tearing everything to pieces and ripping an opening apart for everyone else to follow through.
The hunt was on.
Any Vallites who stood in your way or even tried to raise a weapon towards the army were dispatched and detained. As much as you would’ve liked to tear into them, you knew that getting answers from them was much more important.
To prevent this from ever happening again to anyone.
“We’ll cover the west wing!!” Ryoma shouted, his retainers close behind. “Prince Xander, you-!”
“No!!” Keaton bellowed, “They’re this way!!”
“Keaton, they have to cover the flanks- we can get to the children!!” You reminded your husband, “We don’t need the full army to rescue them! We need the building secured!!”
“But-” Keaton looked to you, the urgency clear. “But the sooner we clear the path to the children, the sooner we get to them!!”
“We cannot rescue them and then try to escape with them on an active battlefield!!” You shouted back, “We’ll go!! The army can handle the rest! Let’s go get our children!!”
He was upset, but he knew full well that you were right. And he was done wasting time. The two of you poured on speed and broke away from the army, letting them split into the necessary teams to get to their enemies.
And from there, you were on your way. The soldiers that tried to stand in your way were challenged, and it didn’t take much to defeat them. Keaton would lead the way with a barreling smash, and you would folow up with a blast of magic or a massive burst of water from your mighty roar.
Within no time, Keaton’s tracking had brought the two of you to the top of the tower. He scaled the steps six at a time, his breath heaving like that of a wild animal.
You followed swiftly behind, covering his flanks. He was charging straight for those babies, and he wasn’t going to stop even to fight someone else.
Closer. He veered around the corner, zeroing in on the end of the corridor.
Closer…he could barely breathe, eyes wide as he reached the final door. The smell was overwhelming. That was hisdaughter. His son. They were in that room.
He took a final leap, throwing his whole Wolfskin body into the door and shattering it into pieces.
The first thing he heard was his children’s cries.
The explosion of the door had startled them, but the giant beasts that were charging into the room were no easier to process.
When your eyes locked with your children, it made your heart skip a beat.
“Children-!!”
“Ma…Mama?” Velouria’s little voice cracked,, ,calling out to the dragon that was quickly transforming. But more importantly than that, was the gigantic wolf that was currently shrinking down in front of them.
“Oh…oh, Vel!! Kana!!” Keaton’s voice no longer distorted, he closed the remaining distance between them. He made a mental note of the shackles around his children’s ankles.
There would be hells to pay for that.
But right now, Keaton was reverting back into his human form, though his claws were last to turn back so that he could rip the chains off their legs.
“PAPA!!” Kana wailed, and was immediately launching into his father’s arms. Keaton engulfed his son and daughter into his chest, clutching onto them with all his strength.
“Oh gods…oh- thank the gods, you’re both here!!” He squeezed them tight, letting them both sob into his shirt as he cradled their little heads with shaking hands.
“Velouria, Kana!” You dissolved back into your human form not long after, meeting Keaton on your knees next to him.
Your daughter managed to get one good look at you and she was practically jumping into your embrace, the waterworks starting all over again.
“Mama…!! Mama, w-we were…we w-were so…!!” She couldn’t fit in a sentence between her breaths. You rocked her gently, managing to free your breastplate so that you could feel her warmth and she could hear your heartbeat even louder.
“We’re here.” You shushed her in a soft voice, “We’re both right here. We weren’t going to let them get away with you.”
Kana’s voice was little more than a warble, trying and failing to reach out for you without removing his hands from his father (which he physically refused to do).
Keaton brought his arm around you, drawing his two girls into the fold.
“It’s all right now, pups.” He promised, kissing the tops of their heads. “It’s okay. We’ve got you now, okay? And that’s not gonna change ever again.”
“We’ve got to get them out of here.” You murmured to him, realizing that your children were littered with cuts and bruises all over their skin. A good number of them looked defensive; which suggested they put up a fight.
As if you weren’t already proud of the pair.
“We have to wait for the signal, right?” Keaton recalled, “Somebody’ll come get us.”
“I’ll take first watch.” You cupped his cheek, “Stay with the children, keep them safe until we get the all clear.”
“If it’s not over in an hour, I’ll trade with you.” He nodded, and you were able to (barely) peel Velouria off of you and return her solely to Keaton.
He transformed back into his beast form, taking each of them up in a massive paw and huddling htem into the back corner. If anyone was going to try and get to them, they’d have to go through him, first.
You nodded to your husband, gave your children one last reassuring smile, and then you were transforming into a big, angry mother dragon once more.
Mercifully, the battle did not last much longer. The corridor was long cleared, and none had attempted to assist after you and Keaton had blasted through the first time.
The soldiers were more concerned with not losing their lives and protecting the citadel than the children they’d taken.
Likely because you’d already taken care of the people who were in charge of the children at all. If they didn’t have their “babysitters” with them, then the rest weren’t concerned.
By the time you reached the east wing, it was nearly emptied. And the west wing was…well, it was in the middle of ending.
You were able to get a few good hits in before your brothers caught up to you, both high princes looking quite stressed but satisfied with the job completed.
“Did you find them?” Xander asked urgently, “Are the little prince and princess safe?”
“Yes,” You said breathlessly, reverting back one last time. “Keaton’s with Velouria and Kana, waiting for the all clear. They’ll need some medical help, but it’s nothing serious.”
“What a relief.” Ryoma sighed as he sheathed his blade. “Sakura, Elise, go with Corrin to take care of the children. They’ll probably want to see more familiar faces.”
It was a hurried sprint back up the steps and the end of the corridor. Sure enough, your husband was there, a warning growl rattling deep in his chest when he heard multiple footsteps.
When you appeared, though, he quickly relaxed.
“It’s over. The tower’s clear.” You informed him, “Are they okay?”
Keaton reverted as well, revealing two trembling children clinging to his legs. He gave them a reassuring smile, “Yeah. We’re all okay.”
“Aunt Sakura and Aunt Elise are going to get you two patched up, okay? Then we’ll head right home.” You told them both, giving Keaton a quick hug before you were swarmed by little hands.
Kana ended up in your lap while Keaton held onto Velouria, each of them getting their healing salves and mending spells cast to fix the damage done.
The four of you returned home with your arms full, your little ones far too frightened to settle down just because you were there.
No, it would take a nice, slow walk through the forest, cradled in their parents’ arms, surrounded by sweet family members and friends making silly faces and telling light stories, until they were able to slowly fall asleep…utterly exhausted by the harrowing rescue.
Eventually, though, you all returned home. Keaton took your hand, helping you into your bedroom at the Castle.
You both moved to tuck the children in, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to let them go. You hesitated, cradling Kana to your chest.
“Keaton…I don’t want to leave them alone.” You whispered, looking at your daughter who slept peacefully on her father.
He nodded quietly, “I don’t either. Let’s…let’s stay with them until they wake up. Then they won’t wake up without us.”
“An excellent idea.” You concurred, and very carefully, the two of you maneuvered onto the bed, taking great care not to jostle the babies sleeping soundly with you.
The two of them were asleep long into the night, and did not wake until nearly the mid morning.
But when they woke up, snuggled up between their parents, it nearly started up an entirely fresh bout of tears.
But there was no need to fear. You kissed away the droplets, beaming at your children.
They were home, safe and sound. And they’d be staying with their mother and father always…and most importantly, everyone would be together happily.
No fears of capture would be tolerated; because aside from their parents going totally feral at the mere thought of their kids being snagged, Keaton taught Velouria all sorts of new techniques for activating her Wolfskin form, and how to fight even as a pup.
And Kana enjoyed plenty of quality time with his mother, learning how to turn into a dragon and back dozens of times (while squealing excitedly for his dad to watch when he did).
Your family was safe, and together again. It was all that mattered.
#keaton#corrin#fe 14#fire emblem fates#keaton x corrin#kana#velouria#fe-fictions#fe fictions#angst#commission#hurt and comfort#family angst#kidnapping prompt#this one was really fun to work on#feral keaton and feral corrin are not to be messed with#keaton was one of my sleeper crushes#he is so cute
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