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imfinereallyy · 1 year

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Father Figures

pt. 2 here, and full version on ao3 here

The first time James Edward Hopper meets Steve Harrington is when Steve is thirteen years old. It is back when he is still pushing everyone to call him Chief Hopper, or at the very least James to sound more professional. It is mostly a lost cause, as he has just returned to Hawkins after his daughter Sarah's death and most people can't help but call him Jim and Hop in familiarity, in sympathy.

It didn't mean they didn't take him any less seriously though. In fact, his cold, grieving demeanor gave him quite the reputation around town. Made assholes like Lenny Byers and troublemakers like the little twerp Munson turn in the other direction when they see him. So Jim doesn't try to push the professional name too much. He knows people around here respect him.

They respect him enough to follow his word, they respect him enough to turn a blind eye when he takes an extra pill or two.

Jim doesn't think too deeply about his reputation until he meets Steve Harrington for the first time.

He gets a call from Benny. It's directly to his line at the station, instead of a general 911 call. He doesn't think much of it when he answers, most likely it was a non emergency from an old friend from high school. That's the only reason people call him most days.

"Chief Hopper. Make it quick."

"Jimmy." A deep, worried breath comes from the phone.

Jim immediately straightens. "Benny, what's wrong?"

Benny usually only calls for a laugh, or to invite him out for a drink. The guy doesn't care about too much, or ask too many questions. Hearing concern in his voice was alarming, to say the least. "Listen, Hop, there is a kid here. And normally I don't care, cause business is business, but it's two in the morning, Jimmy. And despite the kid wearing the most expensive pair of sneakers I have ever seen, he only has two dollars on him for a meal. He got all skittish when the plate landed too loudly. And I don't know..." Benny takes a deep breath before he continues. "...I just don't want to be at fault if this kid's trouble and some fancy parents come looking for him."

Jim can tell Benny wants to say something else, he doesn't push though. Jim Hopper tries to never ask too many questions.

"Alright Ben, I'll be there in ten."

———

When Jim arrives at the diner, Benny notices him and nods in the direction of the corner booth. And there, sitting with his head low and scarfing down a plate of fries is Steve Harrington.

Jim has never met the kid personally, but he knows his parents. Cold, calculating, and pretty much owns half of Hawkins. Jim is starting to understand why Benny has called him.

Jim slides into the booth across from the young boy. He's prepared to take the kid by the back of his shirt and drag him out of there. He doesn't need these kids to be causing hard-working people any trouble. But when Jim makes a thump in the booth, the Harrington kid's face snaps up in fear, and Jim's plan for an angry monologue just drops.

Because there, on Steve Harrington's jaw, is a bruise the size of Indiana itself. Jim's face remains gruff, but his body language softens. "Hey, kid. What are you doing here so late?"

Steve's posture remains stiff and small. "Sorry sir, I was just hungry and it was the only place open. I wasn't—I wasn't trying to cause trouble."

It's then, for the first time, Jim thinks that his reputation isn't one of respect. Instead, his reputation might something worse. Fear.

"Didn't think you were. Just wondering what a rich kid like you, is doing on this side of town, at this time of night." Jim doesn't say it like a question, just fact. He tries not to take it too personally when Harrington turns his bruised side in on himself.

"Would have uh—gotten something from home but we—I didn't have any food left. And by the time I was able to eat, everything else was closed."

"Able to eat—kid what are you rambling about. Let me call your parents to pick you up." Jim makes his way to stand but Steve grabs his wrist to pull him back.

"No! I mean—" he clears his throat "—not necessary sir. My parents left for a work trip tonight. I uh—don't have a number for you to call them anyway. They call me instead, they never have a solid line to contact. Nothing bad happens in Hawkins anyway, so it isn't something to worry about." The last line sounds practiced, like it is something repeated to Steve religiously enough it's become his own mantra.

Jim is starting to put it together. The waiting all day to eat. The bruise on his jaw. The lack of money for food. God, the kid probably walked six miles to get here.

Jim isn't stupid, he can connect the dots. But Jim also knows when not to push things. When not to rock the boat. When sometimes, even if it pains him, helping someone would be a lost cause. He thinks of Sarah briefly.

It's even worse when that lost cause is just a kid.

Jim decides maybe the best thing he can do for Steve at that moment is to ignore the obvious problem and offer him a bit of kindness. "Well, I can't have ya here this late. Could look bad for Benny. And we don't want to get Benny in trouble do we?"

Steve shakes his head immediately. "No Sir."

"Didn't think so. Why don't I drive you to the station? Don't worry I'm not arresting you. But we got a nice cot there, and you can get some rest. Then I'll drive you back in the morning when I clock out. Cause I'm still on duty and all. Can't be driving you back Loch Nora quite yet." Jim doesn't mention how he can see bags under Steve's eyes. He doesn't mention how it would be quicker to his house than to the station either. Jim maybe, just a little bit, wants to keep an eye on him. Even if it's only for a short time.

"It's okay I can walk—" Jim levels Steve with a look "—actually that sounds great. Thank you, Sir."

Jim nods with finality and starts to stand. "Oh and kid? Enough with that sir crap. I ain't Mr. Harrington." He almost says I'm not your dad. But that felt wrong somehow, giving Harrington senior that title.

"Okay, sir—I mean Hopper. Okay, Hopper."

---

As the years go by, James Edward Hopper keeps an eye out for Steven James Harrington (Yes he looks at his file for his full name. Yes, it makes him feel some sort of way he has his name as his middle name and not his father's. Richard would make a horrible middle name anyway). At first, it's drive-bys to see if anyone's home. Giving the kid a ride if he sees him walking. Swinging by a basketball game or two, to see how he's playing.

Then it turns into busting his ragers. Hauling him in for the night not to arrest him but to sober the kid up. Pulling him over for driving while intoxicated with that dumb Hagan boy.

Jim wants to be mad, he does. He even yells at Steve sometimes. But he can't find in him to be mean to him, not really. Not when he's pretty sure the only thing Steve has consumed in days is alcohol. Not when even though he has gotten much bigger, and the bruises are less visible, Steve never ceases to flinch when Jim grabs him.

So mostly, Jim either just drives him home or brings him in, giving him a sandwich and bed for the night.

Around when Steve is sixteen though, things get worse for Jim. He becomes more frustrated, with Steve, with his job, and with this town. He takes more pills. He neglects his job. He forgets Steve.

Then the Upside Down happens for the first time. Jim tries to better himself for Joyce and the kids. He mainly though does it for El. His second chance, his new reason for trying, his daughter.

Jim knows it's okay to get a little lost in taking care of her. That it's a good thing, and she deserves his full attention.

He does feel a bit of guilt though, after round two of the Upside Down. When Steve Harrington sits in Joyce Byer's living room, looking like he went ten rounds with a semi.

The kids are all over him (including Mike which shocks the hell out of him). Dustin is trying to stop the bleeding on his face, Lucas is holding ice against his head and even El, who Steve met for all of five minutes, is sitting beside him on the couch, holding his shoulder up. There is a look in El's eyes as she stares up at Steve. Like she can see through him, like she knows him. Like she understands him.

Jim feels his heart break a little.

He approaches Steve in a crouched position. "Hey kid, I think we better take you to a hospital. You look like shit." He is sure there is a better way to say it, but Jim Hopper is a blunt man and that was never going to change.

The redhead, Max, snorts. "That's honestly the nicest way to put it."

Steve glares, Jim can't decide if it's at him or the kids. "No. I'm okay."

Dustin shouts, "Steve you are most definitely not okay. Hop's right you look like shit—"

"Language."

Dustin ignores Steve, "—and that's just externally. Who knows what's going on internally."

"C'mon kid, I can drive ya." Jim moves to help him stand.

Steve bursts with anger and pushes Jim away. "I said no. And you're not my dad."

Jim's jaw tightens and he resists the urge to scream back: and thank god for that.

El speaks before he can yell back. "You're hurt." It's soft, it's demanding and it's so very El. Jim watches Steve crumble back into the couch.

His voice is rougher than before, but much more gentle, "No hospitals."

"Okay. At least let Joyce look at ya. She used to be a nurse." Jim puts a hand on his shoulder, careful not to jostle him.

"Okay, Hopper. Okay, Hop."

———

After that, for a little while, Jim tries to look out for Steve again. It's harder this time though. He's more independent and harder to catch sight of. When he does see him, one of the gremlins is around him, and he can't check-in. And Hop has El, and he can't neglect her in favor of Steve. He tries to balance it out, but in the end, Steve isn't his kid.

Jim finds a small loophole though, which is El herself.

He worries about her every she since she ran away and he didn't even notice. And he knows Steve, like him, has a soft spot for the kids. So under the guise of babysitting, Jim gets Steve in his cabin once a week. So someone other than Joyce or Jonathan (or horribly, mike) is spending time with her. Sure, he's not there to keep an eye out for Steve himself, but it's the closest he's going to get.

Besides, biological daughter or not, El is just like Jim. She has a habit of collecting strays. If it's not going to be him looking out for Steve, he can't think of anyone better for the job than his little girl.

———

After Starcourt, somewhere in a Russian prison, Jim thinks of Steve.

Every day, Jim thinks of El. Misses her. Longs to hear her laugh even longs to hear her yell back at him. Every day, Jim thinks of his daughter and mourns what could have been. But Jim knows she's being taken care of. Knows Joyce and the boys will love her, and take care of her. Make sure she knows nothing else but kindness.

He worries though, between those moments, about how there is no one there for Steve.

———

Months later, in Hawkins Memorial, Jim Hopper finds Steve Harrington in a hospital chair next to Eddie Munson's comatose body.

Jim has a lot of questions but doesn't get any of them out because suddenly Steve Harrington is right in front of him, sucking in a harsh "Hop," and then collapsing in Jim’s arms.

Jim holds him close, says nothing, and cries silently with him.

———

During the summer that follows, James Edward Hopper notices a change within Steven James Harrington. Despite the obvious PTSD the boy suffers, and the scars that litter his body, Steve is visibly happier than Jim has ever seen him. He laughs more, he openly cries more, and he loves more.

Steve's now living with Robin in a tiny two-bedroom downtown. He comes to family dinner with the entire party every Sunday. He shares a cup of tea (no more beer for either of them) and a cigarette every Thursday evening on the Byers-Hoppers front porch.

Most noticeably, the biggest difference Jim sees in Steve is Eddie Munson.

Jim once again isn't stupid. And despite being an ex-cop isn't a bigot (he couldn't find himself back at the force, the corruption is too much for him. And he himself, was never very good at his job). So he can easily come to the conclusion that Steve has a massive crush on Eddie Munson.

Dear. God.

It's not that he has a problem with Eddie being a boy, but it's the fact that out of all people he can choose from, Steve had to go and fall for the twerp who used to trip over his laces when running away from Jim for the third time.

Jim feels, after all the years of neglect that Steve faced, he could do so much better.

Steve is happy though for once, and Jim doesn't say anything at first. But it becomes so painful to watch. The lingering touches. The longing gazes. The nicknames (sweetheart, honey, dear god did he just say big boy—).

Nothing ever comes of it though, it's August and neither of them has done anything but pine. And Jim seems to be the only one who notices.

At first, he thinks it's cause everyone is being kind, and giving them room to explore themselves. But with everyone making jokes about Robin and Steve (from the kids) or Steve and Nancy (from Eddie), it seems like no one notices the excruciating flirting between the two.

(Except for maybe Robin, but Jim isn't quite sure Steve and she aren't one organism. He doesn't count her)

Still, Jim ignores it though. He has learned his listen from Mike and El. Getting involved makes everything worse.

That is until, the second week in August right before family dinner, when he finds Steve and Eddie early, sitting on the couch, with Eddie dabbing the blood off of Steve's face.

"What happened?" Jim is over on Steve's other side in an instant.

"Nothing Hop, it's stupid." Steve tries to shrug off, and he looks towards Eddie briefly.

Jim's vision, for a brief brief moment, is filled with unclear rage. It's enough to consume him and makes him impulsive. Jim can't help but think he got it wrong. Maybe the two are together, and Steve had fallen into a bad relationship. He knew that Eddie was trouble, but he didn't think about it being that kind.

And though he is being irrational, and being for once a little stupid, no one can really blame him when he hauls Eddie up by the collar and into his line of vision.

"Munson, did you put your goddamn hands on my kid?"

Jim can hear Joyce, El, and Will (the only other people in the house) all run out into the living room at the sheer volume of Jim's voice.

Steve sits frozen, Joyce and El yell at him to "put him down, oh my god."

And Munson? He starts to ramble.

"No. No! I would never, ever hurt anyone. Haven't we learned this by now? I can barely kill a spider. I have to put them in a cup and put them outside." Eddie chuckles nervously, waving his hands around frantically.

Jim's grip tightens and pulls him closer. He's pretty sure his vibrating at this point.

Suddenly though, Eddie becomes deathly serious. As if he just realizes what Hopper has said.

"Hop, I would lay down my life before I ever hurt Steve. There is no one in this world that deserves kindness more than him. And if I ever do hurt him, whether it be emotionally or physically, I give you full permission to beat me up. Hell, I'll probably throw myself at your fist."

Jim doesn't let go but stays silent as he listens.

"You see, Steve here decided to pull a you when some jerks wouldn't leave me alone at Family Video today. They were throwing around a bunch of slurs. Nothing I haven't heard before. And even though I could handle myself—“ Eddie gives Steve a look “Steve here always has to be the hero and decided to defend my honor. And of course, it just had to turn physical. And Steve decided to take on three guys on his own. Got to say though, he held his own. It was kinda hot honestly—"

Jim hears Steve choke a little beside them, startling him out of his frozen state.

"—And he only got a cut on his forehead from one of the dickwads class rings. I'm a little worried he has another concussion though. Believe me, Hop when I say, I am just as pissed at those guys as you."

At the end of his speech, Eddie calms down and even holds eye contact with Jim. He still doesn't let go of the twerp, despite being considerably less angry. Well, at least at Eddie.

It's Steve though that finally gets him to let go. "Dad, please put Eddie down."

Steve says it like it's nothing. Steve says it likes its the easiest thing in the world. But to Jim, to Jim it's the best thing he's gotten since El.

Instantaneously, Jim drops Eddie back on the ground and scoops Steve into a bone-crushing hug. "You got to stop scaring me like this kid. Can't lose you again."

Steve's almost his height now, so he tucks Steve's head into his shoulder and lays his head on top of his hair. He hears a muffled, wet "I'm sorry" against him.

Jim chokes back tears as he says, "No, no you got nothing to apologize for. Just be more careful. Okay?"

Steve releases himself from his hold and looks at him. "Okay, Hop. Okay, Dad."

Jim ruffles his hair without jostling his head too much. He thinks he would do anything for his kids. Including pushing along this nightmare of a pining contest.

"And if you like him I like him too."

"Huh?" Steve says confused.

"Eddie here. If you like him, then he's okay by me."

Steve goes to stop Jim, but he's already one step ahead. "But if he hurts you even in the slightest, you're watching me dig the grave I'm going to bury him in. Understand?"

Steve blushes from head to toe and nods frantically, knowing if he protests it will only make the conversation longer. The room is silent until Eddie speaks.

"Don't worry Hop, I'll dig the grave for you." Eddie's voice, despite the threat, is filled with delight, wonder, and hope.

My work here is done Jim thinks as he gives the boys one last nod and leaves the room.

And if later, if Jim sees Steve and Eddie holding hands at the dinner table he doesn't comment on it. And if he sees Eddie give Steve's knuckles a light kiss, and whisper something that almost looks like "I love you", he only smiles at the two boys. Because if one more person loves his boy, it's a win for him.

Because James Edward Hopper, thinks his son Steve deserves that and so much more.

———

okay I spent waaaay too much time on this (as per usual) but I wanted to dive in a little more on Steve and Hoppers relationship (and how it impacts Steve and Eddie). I feel like a lot of fics makes them distant friends (which is canonically correct I guess) or surrogate family with no explanation. And I like the idea of them slowing building a father son relationship. Really leaning into you choose your family. I know people have mixed feelings about Steve calling him Dad (honestly sometimes I too think it’s cringey) but sometimes I love it and that boy deserves a good father figure. Even though steddie doesn’t come in until the end, I think it all really blends together nicely. Also in my head either the boys are both out to each other, is at least it’s heavily implied or is a known safe space they are in. We do not support outing people in the house. It’s probably a one-shot, but maybe I’ll add more snippets later on. For now it felt like a good place to stop.

As always I hope you enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed writing it. I just zoned out for like two hours as I wrote it. It kinda made me emotional I’m not going to lie.

part 2 here and the full version on ao3 here

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miracle-fandom · 1 year

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Look, maybe I am not looking in the right places, but can we talk about how shady the Fenton's "parenting style" must look to everyone else in Amity? Maybe not cannonically, but the fandom really needs to start thinking about it.

We should talk about how easily it is to confuse vigilantism with abuse.

I want Danny with unexplained bruises every other day and the A listers assuming the worst.

I want Mr Lancer seeing Danny start struggling with school for, apparently, no reason and see him sleep on class and realize those are signs of abuse.

I want people to see how protective Sam and Tucker are and realize there's something they are protecting him from.

I need Valerie to see Danny run off at any sign of ghosts and suddenly "oh Fenton doesn't look scared of ghosts" and it clicks in her mind that maybe he's running from his parents.

I want people to see Danny do uncanny things, or have too much pain tolerance, or brush off whatever Dash came up with today and think "huh, that doesn't sound right"

I want the metaphor for child abuse in the show to become a little bit more real in the narrative. Is that too much to ask? I want them hearing the horror stories of the Fenton's cooking and start putting together that "oh, maybe they don't actually... mind experimenting on themselves" and who's to say the same fate didn't happen to Danny or Jazz?

Who's to say where evil scientists stops and child endangerment starts? And if suddenly, Amity Park has started to make Danny's life a little bit easier by making the Fenton's life harder, well, correlation and causation are one hell of a drug.

[ Check reblogs ]

#dp #danny fenton #danny phantom #fenton family #jasmine fenton #mr lancer #valerie gray #A listers danny phantom #dash baxter #implied child abuse #implied child neglect #im just #angst #danny phantom angst #DpMisunderstoodAU

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small-but-mightyy · 2 years

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now i’m suffering, and you couldn’t care less

#my art #tw implied abuse #okay to rb #trauma vent #vent art #actually traumatized #actuallyabused #actually dissociative #actually borderline #childhood trauma #child neglect #complex trauma #mentally ill #traumatic childhood #traumacore #ventcore #chronic exhaustion #cptsd art

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wangxianficrecs · 3 months

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💙 The Men They Became by pinky_b

💙 The Men They Became

by pinky_b

G, 3k, Wangxian & Nielan

Summary: When he looks at A-Yuan, he sees everything he wishes his nephews could have been: happy. Or: Lan Qiren looks back on how he raised his nephews. Kind of a character study. Kay's comments: This story is the epitome of "Lan Qiren tries". Sometimes, just doing what you do is best, is not enough. He thinks things are going well for a while after he had to take in his nephews, but the house of cards collapses at some point, both boys having to deal with severe mental health issues that have been untreated for too long. Still, he tries his best at least until Wei Wuxian enters the mix. Then, he almost loses his nephews for good... This story is just very lovely in its own heartbreaking way and everyone who grew up having complicated relationships with their parents will probably recognize some part of it in this story. Still, there's hope in this too and a happy ending after some much needed communication! I also really like how this mirrored canon. Excerpt: When he looks at A-Yuan, he sees everything he wishes his nephews could have been: happy. As he watches his grand-nephew talk with his friends and smile, laugh, he feels this weight settle in his chest, reminding him of everything he failed to do. He tries to not be too hard on himself, but he knows he failed both his nephews in so many ways it physically hurts him. He tried. He truly honestly tried to do right by them in everything he did. He sees the unrestrained grin that seems to live on Lan Yuan’s face and the crowd of friends around him, and in those things, he sees everything his boys never had. He wants to be able to give himself some grace. He was never an affectionate man, and children were never anything he saw for his future, but he thought he was doing his best with what life gave him. He wants to be able to say that he did them well. Both his nephews are smart, capable, respectable men, but he thinks they became all those things in spite of how they were raised. Sometimes he feels like the boys had to overcome growing up in his home to become the men they are now. They say hindsight is always 20/20 and he can see now that there was too much on Xichen’s young shoulders.

pov lan qiren, modern setting, modern no powers, implied/referenced child abuse, child neglect, implief/referenced self-harm, grief/mourning, parent-child relationship, mental healh issues, panic attacks, musician lan wangji, lan xichen/nie mingjue, nielan, journalist wei wuxian, complicated relationships, coming out, character study

~*~

(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for this hard-working author if you like – or think others might like – this story.)

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aftgficrec · 3 days

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heyy i’m looking for this fic that i haven’t been able to find in forever. i read it in 2020 i think so it’s probably deleted, but it was basically about andrew’s time in foster care and how he ended up in jail, how he met aaron, how he met higgins, all the stuff. it had 2/4 chapters completed or something like that and it was titled something like “the before and the after”. like before he met neil and after. yeah. tyyyy!!

I’ve had a good look around, but I haven’t been able to find a fic that exactly meets your criteria, this one is the closest I could find. Hope it’ll do for now, but maybe our followers have a better idea. You could also search our tags theme: juvie and theme: foster care. This fic is locked, so you need to be logged into an AO3 account to access it. - S

Doe by FoxyAtlas [Rated M, 12068 words, incomplete, last updated Jan 2022, locked]

Andrew Doe wasn't worth a goddamn thing. He did everything he could to make his foster parents want him, but he was a lost cause. He would never have a family, and he would never be wanted. Nothing he could do would change that. Or so he thought. --- The story of Andrew Minyard's life, starting at 6 and going through to the end of the AFTG series. Includes: shitty foster situations, Cass and Drake, meeting Aaron for the first time, juvie, Tilda, working at Sweetie's, hooking up with Roland, getting the offer to join the Ravens, joining the Foxes, becoming Kevin's protector, and having Neil Josten absolutely turn his life upside down.

tw: depression, tw: implied/referenced self harm, tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: child neglect, tw: suicidal thoughts

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lexezombie · 4 months

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So Creek + the Chef Bergen,,, huh,,

yeah I gave em kids cus ofc I did,,

extra notes:

Tbh they were an accident

It was a fling! one night stand! they swear!

Creek n Chef didn't think they could reproduce given,,, ykno,,,

Oops quadruplets!

Chef named them (obviously)

Creeks an awful dad who plays favourites and rewards his kids for out-performing each other

Chef couldn't care if any of them exist or survive

She is kinda fond of Scallion though

Onion + Scallion are treated the best

Garlic does her own thing

Spud is barely noticed by either parent (usually fed by Onion)

Clothes r made from scraps (creek has new pants dw)

Spud is wearing part of a plastic bag yes

Spuds colours are in fact duller cus, like Branch, he's depressed : (

#cw child neglect #cw implied child abuse #trolls #dreamworks trolls #lexart #Creek trolls #Chef Bergen #Chef x Creek #Cref?#Cheek?#lmao idk the ship name #Veggie Kids (oc)#I plan to include them in art later lol

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gaybae1021 · 9 months

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Hey, heads up this is a heavy comic. I think I’ve tagged everything I need to but if you think I missed a tag let me know. The darker themes are implied, but if you’re uncomfortable with anything in the tags feel free to scroll on.

Uh oh, heat wave in Phoenix Drop. You know what that means? Summer outfits! And you know what that means? New scar reveals! And you know what that means? Unpacking childhood trauma!

Panels fused version:

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insanelyadd · 10 months

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Collector and Archivist Family Headcanons

I got one person who said they wanted to see this when I asked, so this is for you. <3

Before I get into describing the relationships of the siblings (Which I think I did a really good job writing and describing), it is important you know a few background details (that are also headcanons). As a little heads up warning, under the cut there will be mentions of: Imprisonment, neglect, abuse, manipulation, toxic family dynamics, child murder (the Titans), murder (also the Titans), abandonment, guilt, PTSD(?). I think that's it. Let me know which of the Archivists are your least favorite, I'm keeping track and so far one of them is ahead by a lot.

As a reminder this is what My Archivists look like, I swear to god tumblr if you tank the image quality when I publish this:

Free headcanon before we transition to under the read more: I gave The Collector and The Archivists "true names" (and in the Archivist's case, specific code names) because I have a HC that the reason we never learn any "normal" names for any of them is that if a mortal knows a Collector's True Name then that mortal (non-Collector) has power over them. Their magic no longer has much, if any, effect, and they can be harmed by the mortal.

They had one parent named Nebula who used xey/xem pronouns. Their parent has been imprisoned for trying to raise xeir children to believe contrary to the extremism of destroying planets when people get mad about their loved ones being kidnapped, which would probably reflect onto the children that their parent cared more about xeir contrarian morality than them, since xey definitely would have known what would happen when/if xey were caught. They have to have had a parent because the large age disparity between the eldest Archivist and the Collector would typically imply a more parental role, so they need to have all shared a parent.

When the other Collectors came to arrest Nebula, xey tried to fight it so xey could stay with xeir children but xey were easily outnumbered and overpowered. After Nebula were apprehended, the other Collectors began to round up the children so they could be brought to new adult(s) to be raised “properly”, but once they noticed Penumbra was roughly adult age, they asked her if she would be willing to become their caretaker, as otherwise the other children may all be separated, because who would want to suddenly accept 5 new children, including an infant. So Penumbra took on all this responsibility herself to prevent them from being separated.

Sketch of the happy family after these events, now with finalized designs.

Next info bit relates to a theory I have about how the room where Phillip found the Collector's disk could not have been made by the Titan ("Ah yeah lemme teleport this into my skull where I have conveniently made a locked door to put it behind") or Titan Trappers (they would have absolutely taken the disk instead), so this room had to have been made by SOMEBODY and the most likely candidate is the Archivists. To expand upon this, I believe they absolutely had access to Titan Blood and the Disk and chose to leave the Collector behind.

They most likely did this because whoever found the disk would very quickly find out they need Titan's blood or a Titan's help to release the Collector, in any case, the last Titan would need to be hatched, and accessible. The Archivists very likely assumed that he would return to them and when that happened they'd go back to the planet to finish what they started (killing the last Titan if they were not already killed to release them, and then possibly microwaving the planet).

They need to stop taking family photos after one of them is imprisoned, now with finalized designs.

NOW FOR THEIR RELATIONSHIPS!

Nebula, the Archivists' parent, loves all of xeir children dearly, and hopes they are all doing well without xem.

Penumbra:

Penumbra had a very good relationship with Nebula, but after xey were imprisoned for raising them "wrong", Penumbra resents xem. Xeir actions led to Penumbra being forced to raise four children all by herself while she, herself, was barely an adult by the standards of Collector society (I'd say 16 but simultaneously I'm assigning numbers for convenience to myself rather than it being a true translation of their ages as I feel many of our concepts of aging and other things are not be truly cross-compatible). Taking care of a teenager (14), two children (8), and a toddler (2), all while trying to continue to do her duties as a Collector (starting at the Collector equivalent of 8 years old they can assist on Collections, so Satellite, Solari, and Crescent all would have been able to help to varying degrees) would have been extremely stressful for her and it strained her relationship with all of her younger siblings.

She gets along best with Crescent since he was old enough to be almost entirely self-sufficient, though she was still very immature. They would occasionally come to points of contention specifically about how much Crescent should be allowed to do, with both of them having different perspectives on what she can do and what he can't do. Penumbra felt like he should contribute more on Collections and play less with Cosmos (the Collector), while Crescent felt like she should be allowed to help care for and watch Cosmos more since Penumbra assigning herself as sole caretaker of them was very obviously wearing her out. This would ease as Crescent got older, but as Cosmos also got older and less dependent, Penumbra became less stressed which made Crescent press less about caring for him, though she still enjoyed spending time with them (if any of the Archivists were likely to want children it would be Crescent).

Penumbra has a much more tense relationship with Satellite who took Nebula's imprisonment the hardest. Penumbra feels like Satellite resented her for the role she was forced to fill as their new sole caretaker. Satellite became much more quick to anger and was openly hostile when in a bad mood, which is ultimately why Penumbra decided they should be the Cartographer, because it gave them a lot of time by themself, since it seemed so obvious to her that they couldn't stand their own family. Penumbra also has a bitterness towards Satellite for their repeated verbal abuse towards Cosmos. All she wanted was for them to play nice with their baby brother so she could have a moment alone with her thoughts, or to work on projects and sometimes it worked, but it is impossible for her to tell when Satellite is in a bad mood (since they suppress their emotions until they explode) until she hears them screaming and Cosmos crying and has to show up to yell at Satellite and comfort Cosmos.

Penumbra has a horrible relationship with Solari. Unless they are speaking on official matters regarding their jobs, Solari has a tendency to undercut everything with sarcasm and disdain. Solari only ever seems truly happy and genuine when deep in thought categorizing and organizing the Archives, which was something Penumbra picked up on quite quickly, seeing how organized and easy to find everything in their room was, especially compared to the random hordes of assorted trinkets present in Crescent and Satellite's rooms (and her own if she felt like being honest), and assigned her as the Archive’s Curator. Penumbra feels like Solari needs to be preoccupied with other tasks while interacting with anyone because she otherwise expends her excess mental energy to be snide and cold to people, like they want to tell jokes but she's too mean or emotionally distant to bother thinking of ones that aren't cruel. Penumbra also DEEPLY dislikes Solari's tendency to be rough with Cosmos when she sends him off to play with them. He doesn't seem to mind the shooting star game, as long as he isn't thrown into objects or so far away they can't find their way back, but Solari does things that scare Cosmos and piss off Penumbra, like boxing him into small spaces or stomping their foot hard enough for the floor to crack right in front of him, or punching walls and slamming doors when she’s aggravated about them being around. She's never actually hurt them on purpose, with a few accidental times resulting in Solari immediately apologizing, healing him if necessary, and leaving him alone. But if the day ever comes where they do hurt him on purpose Penumbra is fully prepared to wring their neck and lock her in her room for 100 years, impeccable talent for organizing be damned.

Penumbra has a complicated relationship with Cosmos. She is their older sister but also effectively their mother, having been his sole caretaker for a majority of his life, but she’s also exhausted by him. She raised Cosmos from a literal infant into a curious and playful child. Unfortunately the playfulness and curiosity are a non-stop feature and not one that only conveniently exists when she wants a break from her duties or when she's giving him his lessons on their culture, the universe, or their vast Collection. She also gets easily frustrated with them just like the twins do, but she prides herself in being able to easily dismiss those feelings despite her bone deep burnout for childcare. She sends him on tasks in the Archives, uses the cultures of the beings she’s observing at any given time to concoct new games for him to play, or redirects them to any of the other available siblings. She loves them very much but she also desperately wanted a break from him.

Crescent:

Crescent had the worst relationship with Nebula, which isn’t to say it was even bad, but that once she found out that xey were breaking their laws by teaching them all “incorrectly”, he turned xem in. Crescent much prefers the rules as they are Meant To Be, because the way Nebula taught them was much less efficient, which is what she prefers. It wasn’t until the incident with the Titans that he became more openly gleeful about ending the lives of mortals, before then it remained largely just another part of her duties as a Collector. Nobody knows how other Collectors found out about Nebula doing this, and Crescent knows better than to tell his siblings about this.

Crescent feels like an equal to Penumbra, in that they both are the eldest, with only a few “years” apart from each other, and he is given free reign to make executive decisions while performing her duties on planets alone. She still has a slight bitterness about Penumbra refusing to let him help raise Cosmos, because she believes if Penumbra was less stressed she would have lashed out less to Satellite and Solari, and blames her for some of their behavioral issues. For the most part though he doesn’t let these feelings interfere at all with how he interacts with her, because they are The Charmer, and she prides herself on being able to be incredibly charismatic, smoothing over moments of tension between Penumbra and the Twins easily, lying to and manipulating mortals even more easily.

Crescent silently despises Satellite. She would never let it slip how she really feels about them, but inside whenever they are forced to interact she is constantly imagining scenarios in which it may be appropriate to punch them. He HATES their inability to telegraph how they’re feeling more clearly, because she hates not being able to read people. Their emotional constipation means it’s harder for him to get a read on how best to placate or flatter them in any given situation. His frustration about this coupled with Satellite’s extreme hostility at the drop of a hat makes it so Crescent loathes interaction with them.

Crescent outwardly gets along very well with Solari, as they can very very easily figure out the best course of action to take in any given interaction they share. He still doesn’t enjoy her company that much though, as her tendency to “jokingly” insult her pisses her off, especially paired with what Crescent perceives as extreme arrogance when Solari tries to act intimidating and tough to him. Crescent is probably the most physically fit of all of the Archivists (magically it is much harder to decipher who’s on top) and is insulted that the least physically capable of all of them (excluding the actual child) even entertains the idea that she could fight him, especially with her misplaced confidence in these moments that Crescent perceives to be them believing they could even win. At every opportunity that has presented itself Crescent fights her and takes them down VERY quickly, which makes Solari even more passive aggressive and angry at him.

Crescent adored Cosmos. Always enjoying playing with them, telling him stories about the Collections she’s gone on recently, teaching him new magic tricks. Crescent liked that they were easy to read and easy to lead, easily redirecting their energy at tasks and “games” that could easily preoccupy them until they got tired enough to sleep. Still, he believed it was a great idea to send them to the Titan Planet to see how he would do on his first excursion as an Actual Collector, even after the Titans proved to be able to harm Cosmos they weighed the benefits against the risks of leaving them there. Benefits being that he could function as a good distraction while she whipped up a quick plan to wipe the Titans out, risks being the Titans catching on and harming Cosmos or doing so accidentally. Crescent concluded the Titans were far too nice to harm them, and believed himself to be clever enough to quickly mount up an attack on the Titans that would wipe them out before they’d even be able to register what happened.

Satellite:

Satellite loved Nebula more than anyone, even their own twin (but don’t tell Solari that). The feeling of betrayal and abandonment they felt when it was revealed that xey had broken laws which resulted in xeir imprisonment destroyed everything that they knew in their mind.

Satellite is afraid of Penumbra, which used to not be the case, at least, not to the same extent. Satellite never really got along with any of their siblings except Solari on a consistent basis but Penumbra’s idea to make them the Cartographer at first felt fine, even Satellite didn’t fully understand what would set them off and enjoyed the time alone and moments of peace they got exploring space and searching out new places to Collect from. Eventually they realized that they actually hated being alone, they didn’t like how easily Penumbra sent them to do probably the most isolating task any of them could do to maintain their Archive. This strained their relationship quite a bit, but seeing how easily Penumbra was able to cast aside Cosmos after he was sealed in the mirror shook something in them. They thought Penumbra loved Cosmos more than any of the other siblings, a leftover piece of jealousy at him receiving so much attention after Nebula was taken away, but they couldn’t comprehend Penumbra actually even DISLIKING them in any capacity so it simply meant that to Penumbra All of the other Archivists were disposable if she came up with a good enough reason to abandon them.

Satellite is also afraid of Crescent but for reasons that are the same and completely different. The same because Crescent didn’t even argue with Penumbra’s plan to leave the disk on the Titan Planet, and in fact came up with the idea to leave behind folklore and stories about how “The Collector” was so powerful to entice people to want to find him and release him. Different because while Satellite was more apathetic to mortals, the lessons Nebula told them about how mortal life is sacred and should be protected (which is only slightly different from what they were “meant” to be told about how mortal life is sacred and must be protected by collecting unless they resist in which case they should be taken by force and their home and any stragglers left to die as they destroyed their planet) resulted in Satellite being deeply disturbed by Crescent’s total glee upon orchestrating mortals to fight the Titans on his behalf, easily ignoring how many of the Titan Trappers she had trained were killed in the battles against the full grown titans. Wearing the skulls of the babies and children, and encouraging the Trappers and other Archivists to do the same. Satellite knows how good she is at reading people, they aren’t stupid, they see how when Crescent is around fights are resolved easily, how the mortal Trappers were so easily swayed by her words and loyally fought in battle for him to the very last breath. Satellite isn’t as good at reading people but they sense their emotional non-transparency frustrates him which Satellite is just fine with, to a small extent because it can be used to protect them from her but also they worry about it making Crescent angry enough to do something about it one of these days.

Solari is Satellite’s only friend. They confide in her frequently about what they are feeling, and spend much of their time when not exploring space hanging out with them in the Archives while she sorts, categorizes, and organizes things. Solari is almost never on the receiving end of one of their meltdowns, especially since she was the one to be there for them the most after Nebula was gone. They still do get into fights, they are siblings of course, but they are not even remotely on the same level as one of them fighting with Penumbra or Crescent. Satellite has shared their worries about Crescent and Penumbra so easily discarding Cosmos, and how they worry how easily they would get rid of them or her. Solari understands them and they agree quite frequently on things, though their jobs typically keep them far apart.

Satellite did like Cosmos. They have extreme difficulty expressing how they feel and clearly communicating their needs in social situations which very often resulted in Cosmos, being a child and thus even more oblivious to social etiquette than Solari with none of the lifelong bonding Satellite has with her to guide Cosmos through their interactions, getting on their nerves severely. It was about a 50/50 chance for Satellite to be in a relatively good mood to speak with Cosmos, enjoying them chatting about assorted things, especially when they got to lie and teach them the wrong things about space or magic which resulted in Penumbra giving them the stink eye when Cosmos finally got around to asking her about whether black holes get sick and throw up when too much stuff goes in them at once. Satellite did not like yelling at any of their siblings but they also don’t know how else to act when overwhelmed because it’s not like any of them have had the same issues as them. Now that Cosmos is gone, Satellite is very upset at how they treated him. Satellite feels like they should have realized that they were distant and cold, and Solari was distant and cold, and Penumbra was detached, and Crescent was nearly always busy, and they wonder if he felt the way they do, about being so very alone with almost no one to talk to about how they really feel.

Solari:

Solari loved Nebula quite a bit, though they could tell Satellite was always more excited to spend time with xem than her, but they didn’t let that get her down. Seeing their parent taken from them, and how badly it hurt Satellite made them resent Nebula after the fact.

Solari hates Penumbra. Mainly because she was smart enough to, just like Crescent, realize that if she relinquished some control over Cosmos when they were a baby to Crescent, she would have been more present for Satellite, like they desperately needed her to be. As they got older her resentment manifested in cold hostility for all the members of the family that they felt were failing her twin. Penumbra isolates them, Crescent is annoyed he can’t just puppet them to do what she wants, and Cosmos got all the attention. Penumbra’s obvious disdain for Solari just fuels her own disdain for her right back. They frequently get into fights. Solari was HORRIFIED by Penumbra’s suggestion that they leave the Collector’s mirror disk, all that remained of him, on the Titan Planet because what amounted to the corpse (though not dead) of their sibling could be used as a signal to them for when the final titan frees them or is killed so they can finish the job they started and finally destroy the planet.

Solari despises Crescent. The way he is able to so easily turn events in her favor when there is a disagreement, the fact that he is given so much freedom from Penumbra compared to herself or Satellite, the way that Crescent avoids Satellite simply because she does not care to be genuine in conversations with them. Not to mention when instead of arguing that since they had Titan’s blood and the disk, they should release Cosmos immediately, he agreed to Penumbra’s plan and contributed. It deeply disgusted Solari, especially since her and Satellite agreed that Crescent and Cosmos were closer with each other than any of the rest of them were with either. She loves to get under his skin by challenging her authority, even though she knows they will always lose in a hand-to-hand fight, she does it anyway because they can tell it makes him angry to see her self-assured superiority challenged.

Satellite is the only person Solari is really close with, both of them speaking to each other about their concerns regarding their older siblings when they have the chance to. Solari knows Satellite the best out of any of their siblings, which is why her sarcasm and teasing is always intentional and never mean spirited with them. Solari was the one to comfort Satellite the most about Nebula, which shocked and upset her, because they could not understand why neither of the older siblings could tell or seemed to care about how much they were hurting. Together they realized they had been terrible to Cosmos through no fault of his own and they both deeply regret how they treated them. They’ve spoken before about a complete pipe dream they’ve had, where if Cosmos is ever able to return to them, they’d all run away together to keep their older siblings from continuing to use and neglect him.

Solari has a lot of regrets about Cosmos. She wishes she could have realized that they never did anything wrong, or hurt them (Solari and Satellite) intentionally. They know now that he deserved much better than what he got, this regret typically manifests in her being even more upset at Penumbra and Crescent, how DARE they care more about practicality and their “carefully laid plans” and stupid PROTOCOL than their own brother. Whenever she thinks about her, and Satellite’s own treatment of them, she becomes repulsed with herself. She tries to avoid thinking about it, because it only comes up in her mind when she’s alone sorting the Archives and cataloging new entries, a task they do so effortlessly that the guilt and “what ifs” end up consuming her until she realizes she’s stopped her work entirely and is standing entirely too still with her non-existent stomach turning and her eyes burning, but never fully crying.

The Collector/Cosmos:

Cosmos doesn’t know how to feel about Nebula. On one hand, xey never would have been taken from him and his siblings if xey had simply done what xey were supposed to do, but on the other hand, now that Cosmos is separated from their own siblings, and the culture of other Collectors, he wonders if Nebula would have been proud of them for disagreeing with what he was raised to believe, and managing to escape from the grip it had on them. They’ve heard stories from their older siblings. Penumbra’s stories about xem were typically meant to impress upon him some lesson or to pass on a story that was originally told to Penumbra, as part of the lessons she would teach him, though she avoided speaking about xem in any other context. Crescent’s stories would usually come back to how what xey did was wrong, and how xey put xeir morality above what was actually legal and accepted practice. Satellite loved speaking about Nebula, it was one of the seemingly only guaranteed ways to cheer them up, unless the story was specifically the day xey were arrested, that one was a guaranteed way to make them more upset than anything else he could think of. Solari’s stories were tinged with bitter resentment, though she had good stories about xeir kindness, they would always finish their story with “but xey still choose to break the law and abandon us”. It was all giving mixed messages.

Cosmos had thought that Penumbra was one of their nicest siblings. He loved spending time with her, he enjoyed their lessons, he tried to ignore the slithering feeling of pain he got in his chest whenever he could tell she was annoyed with them. Every time she tiredly redirected them to play with Satellite, Solari, or Crescent when he was there, he pushed down the feeling of agonizing pain in his stomach. He knew Penumbra still loved them, she still was so happy to play with him when she wasn’t busy, to teach him lessons, or read important books to them. That’s what he thought at least. Since they’ve been freed from their prison, he’s had time to reflect on what happened. Even though Satellite was the one that told them about how he was allowed to go play with the Titans, Cosmos knew it was Penumbra who came up with the plan, it was literally her job to direct the rest of them and their missions. She was either the one that came up with the plan to kill all the Titans or at the very least approved of the plan that was otherwise definitely Crescent’s idea. She didn’t bother taking him off the planet after they started. She left them there.

Cosmos loved Crescent very much, the only sibling that never gave them a disappointed look, that never dismissed him, that enjoyed playing games with him, and never yelled at or scared them. Which makes them even more devastated, knowing that she was the one that had all their friends killed. Every baby Titan he befriended died, very likely because of Crescent, either indirectly by the Titan Trappers, or directly by her own hands. It’s very hard for them to hate anyone, but they’ve decided they should hate him. For being so nice, and so kind, only to hurt them in such a hideous way, he knows she, Penumbra, and the twins all were definitely watching him on the planet. They absolutely knew that Papa Titan blamed Cosmos for the missing and dead Titans. They still did nothing to stop him. Eventually he figures out that they all had to have found his disk, and had access to Titan’s blood, and chose not to free him on purpose. The more Cosmos thinks about him, the more upset they get.

Cosmos never had a very good relationship with Satellite. It was confusing, how they seemed to be fine one moment and angry at them the next. It made them feel cautious when Penumbra sent him to play with them, but they were always happy when Satellite was in a good mood to play or talk. They could never tell when they were lying to him about things, but it was always funny when they did because it was never mean or about important things. Cosmos knew Satellite (and Solari) did not get along with Penumbra or Crescent as much as they did, so it makes them wonder if Satellite argued against leaving them on the Titan Planet when they came up with the plan to kill all the Titans, if for no other reason than to just be contrarian to the elder siblings. Cosmos knows that no matter which of their siblings suggested they leave him behind in his disk, it would have to have been approved by the elder two, so ultimately they do not blame the twins for leaving them behind, at least not nearly as much as he blames the others.

Cosmos was even more cautious about Solari than Satellite, being the scariest of their siblings. She could be so mean and they didn’t understand why. When they seemed to be in a good mood she would have him do little tasks for her, going into the Archives to retrieve things for them, which, in hindsight, they now realize she likely could have just magically summoned. But it kept him occupied and taught him about how the Archives were cataloged. She would teach them about each of the creatures and objects that he collected for them. When she was in a bad mood and felt like scaring him was the worst. Sometimes she got so angry that she destroyed things, nothing from the Archive of course, Penumbra would be furious if they did that. But she would smash walls and floors and doors. Sometimes when she broke things, the exploding pieces would hit him. It never really hurt, but she would always immediately apologize and heal them, even if there was never really any damage. Sometimes she would play games with him, her most favorite being the one where they would pick him up with magic and throw them as far into open space as she could, which was mostly fun, though sometimes scary when he was thrown way too far or hit something. It didn’t happen often and he figured a way around both of these issues by counting in their head to a preset number where he would magically stop their flight if he was still going when they reached the number, and they would also use their flight to alter their path to avoid objects. Now that they’re away they wonder if any of their siblings actually loved him.

#the owl house #owl house #toh #toh the archivists #toh the collector #the collector #the archivists #the grand huntsman #toh headcanon #abuse #manipulation #murder #implied child death #toxic family dynamics #child neglect #abandonment #ask to tag #toh spoilers

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razzle-zazzle · 2 months

Text

to the roots

7089 Words; Discolored

TW for discussions of Parental Abandonment and Child Neglect, kidnapping

HAPPY BIRTHDAY @ninja-go-to-therapy!!! 🎂🎉🎉🎉

AO3 ver

“Branch? Sweetie, is that you?”

The voice that cut across the clearing was unfamiliar, a sugary lilt that crawled up Branch’s back and had him turning around. Before him stood two unfamiliar trolls, older than him by a significant margin. They looked like they could be John Dory’s age. Branch had never seen them before in his life.

The Troll on the left had teal fur and dandelion-yellow hair, a curled mustache in a style that Branch was pretty sure was only popular when Peppy was young. Even his felt overalls looked old-fashioned in the style of the cuffs and straps, despite the fabric itself looking relatively new. The Troll to the right had lavender fur and magenta hair, crows feet clinging to her eyes and a soft smile on her face. The handkerchief tying her hair back looked to be the same cut as her dress, soft floral pattern along the hems. Even the basket on her arm had flowers sewn along the handle.

There was something familiar about them. Branch had never seen either of them before. His paws clenched and unclenched around the sticks in his paws, an indiscernible feeling clawing its way up his throat.

Branch scowled. “I’m sorry, who are you?” He didn’t know these people, didn’t know why they had seemingly come looking for him specifically. The lack of knowledge prickled against his spine, harsh and discordant. Branch fought down a growl building in his throat.

The Troll on the left smiled. “C’mon Branchy, it’s Belladonna and Daffodil! Your parents!” He stepped forwards, paws spread wide. “Surely your brothers told you about us?”

Branch froze. Once again, he looked the two Trolls up and down, taking in every detail. He could see the resemblance. Belladonna’s face was blocky like John Dory’s, her lavender fur a near perfect match to Grandma Rosiepuff. Her magenta hair had streaks of gray running through it, and was swept back with a tied handkerchief, but the swooping bangs were unmistakable, and the violet ends splayed out wildly. She smiled, small and soft like Floyd when Branch made him his favorite tea.

Daffodil was altogether more petite, narrow shoulders set just below Belladonna’s, and the teal of his fur didn’t exactly match any of Branch’s brothers. But the yellow of his hair, tinged with green at the roots, was a near-perfect match for Clay’s. He tilted his head—and wow, his eyes were the exact same as Floyd’s. Uncanny.

Branch clenched and unclenched his paws, the bark of the sticks rough against his paw pads. Reassuring. He could see the resemblance. He really could. But—

“Why’d you come back?” The question came out like an accusation, sharp in the air. That wasn’t Branch’s intent, but he couldn’t take back his tone, so it wasn’t worth fretting over.

“Why, to meet you.” Belladonna tittered. “We went back to the old tree a few years ago, and found it completely empty!” She pressed her paws together, tail limp against the ground. “The shock of it all made it clear to us what we missed by leaving for so long.” She sighed, and Daffodil took up the story.

“When we thought that you had died, we were just plain heartbroken.” Daffodil lamented, mustache drooping along with his tail. “What kind of parents were we, that we left you for so long?” He wrung his paws together. “But then we see you and your brothers performing that perfect family harmony on the Mount Rageous big screens, and we realize—”

“—That our baby boy is still alive.” Belladonna finished, eyes soft. She stepped forwards, tentatively reaching out a paw. “When we realized we had been given a second chance, well, we just had to take it.”

Branch stared at her outstretched paw. “Why?” Suspicion wrapped around his chest like an old friend. Something about this wasn’t right. Branch had literally never met his parents before—why would they come back now?

Belladonna’s head tilted. “Why?” She repeated, like the very question made no sense to her.

“Why now?” Branch grumbled, tail lashing behind him. “You never cared before.” It was an accusation spoken softly, yet still barbed and guarded.

Belladonna winced. “I know.” She said. She gestured to the basket hanging on her arm, “Why don’t you join us for a picnic? It’ll be more fun than standing around in some random clearing.” She smiled, hopeful, and suddenly Branch felt like a pinned bug. Did he go with them? Or did he retreat to the safety of what he knew, away from the uncertainty standing before him?

Branch wondered what Poppy would say. Wait, no, scratch that—Branch knew exactly what Poppy would say. He’d been in this same situation barely two weeks ago with his brothers, after all. And if they had come back…

Sighing, Branch stepped forwards. “Fine.” He decided, adjusting his hold on the sticks in his arms. “But no funny business.” As far as he was concerned, the two trolls before him were still strangers.

Belladonna and Daffodil beamed, before turning and making their way towards one of the trees. “C’mon, your father spotted a good spot to set up in the branches.” Belladonna urged, making her way up.

Branch followed his maybe-parents up the tree, reluctantly leaving his bundle of sticks behind in the crook of one of the roots in order to haul himself up with hair and paw. It wasn’t long before they were walking along the branches, Belladonna coming to a stop at a spot that she deemed appropriate.

Branch didn’t like how high up he was. He knew he could use his hair to parachute safely if he fell, but—

The branch they were on was too exposed to the sky, in Branch’s opinion. Weren’t his parents worried about birds? Even a squirrel could become a massive problem if it decided this was a good branch to run along.

But Belladonna was humming softly, the tune unfamiliar to Branch as she laid out the blanket patterned with forget-me-nots, basket open beside her. As she busied herself with setting things up, Daffodil sidled over to Branch, mirth in his eyes.

“I see you’re wearing my old vest.” Daffodil chuckled, eyes crinkling.

Branch stepped back. “I got it from Floyd.” He growled. If these two were only going to tell lies—

“And where do you think our little rosebud got it from?” Belladonna asked, from where she was unloading the basket.

“He—” Branch cut himself off. Even back then, in his fuzzy memories of his brothers all together, Floyd’s vest had been worn, faded slightly—but surely that was just because he had had it for so long, right? It had fit Floyd too well to have been made for someone else.

But Daffodil had the near exact same body type as Floyd, Branch realized.

“It suits you.” Daffodil commented. Branch waited to see if his maybe-father would say anything more, but the older troll seemed content to leave it at that.

Belladonna finished laying out the spread, the small selection of food arranged artfully upon the blanket. There was a small plate of four sandwiches, a pitcher of stoutberry juice, a bowl of fluffleberries—there was even a small selection of sandwich ingredients. As far as picnic spreads went, it was pretty impressive. Belladonna sat down, patting the space beside her, and Daffodil sat down next to her with a wide grin.

Branch clenched and unclenched his paws, and moved to sit on the edge of the blanket opposite his probably-parents. If either of them noticed the apprehension coming off of him in waves, neither commented on it.

“I guess you’ll be wanting an explanation.” Daffodil started, around bites of his sandwich.

Branch nodded, ignoring the sandwich that Belladonna offered him. She shrugged, returning the sandwich to the plate, and took up the story. “There’s not much to tell, really.” She admitted. “When we had little Dory, we weren’t ready to be parents.” She took a bite from her own sandwich, and Daffodil picked up the thread.

“I was only fifteen or so, and Bell here is only a few months older.” He picked up his own sandwich, and tore off a bite. “My mother-in-law was pretty pissed when she found out!” He chuckled, before taking the bite. “Tore me a new one.” He mumbled.

“We did love little Dory,” Belladonna continued, pouring stoutberry juice into two cups. Branch waved off the empty cup she held out to him, and she shrugged before continuing. “Really. But we just…” She sighed, her eyes darting to her bracelet. It was weirdly plain, off-white threads braided together with no charms or color. “And then Spruce came along.” She continued, “Barely two years later. We were relying so heavily on Mom to help handle things.” She shook her head, and nodded to Daffodil.

“By the time Clay’s egg was laid, we weren’t really… around.” He shrugged, taking a drink from his cup. “The stress just got to us, so we left.”

“We didn’t go far, the first time.” Belladonna added. “Just to another part of the tree, a little higher up.” She finished off her sandwich, wiping her paw off on a napkin. “Sweetie, aren’t you going to eat?” She gestured to the spread between them, sugar in her urging.

Branch shook his head. “Not that hungry.” He grunted. How could he eat when his throat was blocked off by a knot of emotions? Anxiety squeezed his gut, hope crept up his tail, and so many questions kept dying in his throat, piling up like crumpled poems in a wastebasket. His appetite was so far nonexistent that the thought of eating made him want to run away and vomit.

“Suit yourself.” Daffodil shrugged. “But you’re always welcome to try anything you like! You’re our son, after all!” He smiled, big and wide, and Branch couldn’t help but be reminded of John Dory’s smile—it had the same bombastic obnoxiousness, he felt.

“Okay, let’s get back on topic.” Branch wanted answers, dammit. “You said you left after Clay hatched?” He had to be—he needed to know, to put the story together and make it make sense if he ever wanted to even consider trying to trust his probably-parents.

Belladonna winced. “We… missed his hatching, actually.” She admitted. “Came back just days after.” She frowned, “We were only gone for a few weeks, too…” She sighed, picking up her cup.

Daffodil put a paw on her shoulder, drawing Belladonna from her reminiscing. “You should’ve seen little Dory and Spruce when we got back!” He offered. “Dory refused to talk to either of us for four days, but Spruce was so excited to show off his new baby brother!” He smiled fondly at the memory, before his face fell. “The story doesn’t get much better after that.” He warned.

Belladonna nodded. “Me and Daffy, we’ve always had a strong sense of wanderlust.” She took a sip from her cup before continuing. “Not even having three children could get us to really settle down. It became a regular thing, leaving for a little bit before coming back.” She finished off her juice, and grabbed the pitcher to refill it. “And our sons seemed fine in Mom’s care, so we didn’t really think about the effect that our running around would really have—”

At that moment, Branch’s Hug Timer went off. He slapped the flower shut, his attention firmly on the story. “Go on.”

Belladonna and Daffodil stared for a moment—a moment during which Branch noticed a lack of Hug Timers on their wrists, just Belladonna’s off-white bracelet—before Daffodil cleared his throat.

“We did try to stick around for Floyd’s egg, though.” Daffodil continued. “Stuck around ‘til our little rosebud finally hatched! When I tell you he was the cutest little thing…” He stroked his mustache, expression fond.

“But our wanderlust just kept coming back.” Belladonna lamented. “Even though we’d seen so much of the tree already, we just kept coming and going.” She popped a fluffleberry from the bowl in the center of the blanket into her mouth.

“Until Brozone,” Daffodil added, a glint in his eyes. “I showed Dory a few lyric writing tricks when he was little, before our own dreams were crushed by the whole parenting thing.” His tail flicked rhythmically. “And I know my sweet Bellady here—” He kissed Belladonna’s cheek, prompting a giggle, “—must have brought up the idea at some point or other.” Fond hunger settled in his eyes, and Branch forced his attention onto his probably-definitely-mother.

“But we never imagined our boys would take that old dream and make it happen!” Belladonna smiled wistfully. “It was the most time we spent actually being parents, just trying to help them schedule shows and encouraging them to go further.” She pressed her paws to her face dreamily, reminiscing. “It was going so wonderfully, the four of them were getting so popular…”

“Then what made you leave?” Branch asked, derisively. From the way it sounded, everything was going great—so why were his okay-definitely-parents-by-blood out of the picture after he came along? Something wasn’t adding up, and Branch didn’t know if he wanted to hear the answer or not.

Belladonna and Daffodil looked at each other, seeming to argue with their eyes before they turned back to Branch. Belladonna frowned. “This…” Her eyes closed as she exhaled sharply. “This is the worst part of the story, sweetie.” Her paw waved dismissively. “We’ve been talking for a while now, let’s take a break.”

“Wh—” Branch fought down a snarl, “You can’t just leave it at that!” He crossed his arms. “You said you’d explain. So explain.” He still needed the story to make sense, he needed to know why his parents never came up in the two years he had with his brothers, he couldn’t just—

But Belladonna and Daffodil were already standing, Daffodil coming around to offer his paw to Branch. “We have been talking for a while,” Daffodil pointed out.

“It’s not a light topic.” Belladonna added. “But we’ll tell you tomorrow, okay?” She offered, already moving to put everything back in the basket. “We’d hate to dump all of our problems on you after just meeting, sweetie.”

Branch stood slowly, ignoring Daffodil’s offered paw. “...fine.” He conceded. “But you better not back out on telling me what happened.” He threatened. He had enough to deal with—his parents keeping secrets was not something he was willing to add to that list. Not now, not ever.

“Of course!” Daffodil chuckled, putting a paw on Branch’s shoulder. Branch brushed the paw off, stepping back to get out of range. Daffodil only smiled at Branch’s actions, head tilting as he examined his son.

“You have your mother’s eyes.” Daffodil said softly. “I…” He huffed, tossing his head back. His expression crumpled, his tail flat against the ground. “We should have come back sooner, Branch. We shouldn’t have let our wanderlust keep us away for so long.”

Belladonna nodded, leaning forwards. “We really shouldn’t have. You’re absolutely perfect.” She fiddled with the bracelet on her wrist as she spoke, eyes locked firmly on Branch.

Something about her statement jolted against Branch’s carefully-cultivated intuition, a niggling doubt digging into his stomach like a worm in an apple. He swallowed, wrenching his gaze to the blanket his mother was folding up, to the light-blue forget-me-nots patterned across the lavender fabric. His tail brushed against the bark of the branch, agitated.

“We’re here now.” Daffodil declared, tail swishing behind him. “And we’re not gonna leave you, okay?” Belladonna came to stand beside her husband, everything neatly packed away into the basket on her arm. They looked like a picture-perfect couple together, like something straight out of an old photo album or painting. They looked like they could get along just fine without their children.

Branch’s tail curled in on itself, tucking against his legs. He took a breath, trying to clear the worries clawing up his throat—his brothers came back for him. He had let John Dory and Bruce and Clay and Floyd back into his life—what were two more family members into the fold?

“Okay.” Branch breathed. The trio began to trek down the branch towards the trunk, and Branch let himself fall into a comfortable silence as he followed his parents down.

When they reached the roots, Branch gathered up his sticks again, regarding his parents one last time. “Tomorrow.” He grunted. If they thought about backing out…

“Tomorrow.” Belladonna agreed, reaching into her dress pocket. She pulled out a bracelet almost—no, exactly like her own, with the same braided off-white threads. “Here,” She offered, holding the bracelet out. “A promise bracelet. So you know we want to make this work.”

Branch regarded the bracelet suspiciously. It was so plain that he couldn’t help but wonder what the catch was… but at the same time, it was so plain that Branch couldn’t think of any conceivable nefarious purpose. His eyes flicked to Belladonna’s bracelet.

Branch groaned, shifting the sticks so he could hold out his paw. Belladonna beamed, and carefully slid the bracelet onto his wrist, just below his Hug Timer. She tugged at it, and it contracted, snug around Branch’s wrist. His eyes widened.

“Pretty special, huh?” Daffodil leaned in. “Promise bracelets are charged with the same kind of energy made by a Pinky Promise.” He explained. “They’re impossible to lose.”

“So that the promises they represent can’t be broken.” Belladonna added softly, clasping Branch’s paw in her own.

Branch swallowed, jaw tightening. He’d have to check the village library for scrapbooks on promise bracelets. He withdrew his paw from Belladonna’s so that he could hold the sticks more comfortably, the bracelet a constant presence against his wrist. But it wasn’t tight enough to hurt, so Branch fought the feeling down.

Belladonna smiled, twirling in place with a giggle. “We’ll see you tomorrow!” She chirped, before she and Daffodil turned to head off to… wherever they were staying, Branch supposed. As he watched them go, a knot of hope and anxiety clung to his fur, his tail flicking behind him.

Ugh, whatever. Branch turned to return to his bunker. The picnic had been unexpected, but surely…

Whatever would come of all of this, Branch didn’t know. But he was going to get some answers, if nothing else, and that was enough to satisfy him. It’d have to be—he couldn’t allow himself to expect anything more.

+=+=+=+=+

“Something on your mind?”

Branch looked up at the sound of Floyd’s voice, clenching and unclenching his paws against the mug clasped in them. His brother was staring at him fondly through sleep-frizzed bangs, mug of tea on the table before him.

Branch glanced over to the other side of the table. John Dory didn’t stay the night every night, but here he was, puttering into the kitchen while humming an old Brozone song under his breath.

“Just thinking.” Branch responded, his gaze returning to his coffee. Thoughts about his parents had been swirling around in his head all night, muddled and mixed up with his usual worries. They claimed to be hoping to reconnect, but something about that picnic the day before just felt… weird.

But Branch’s brothers had come back, hadn’t they? And they were even making an effort to reconnect and keep in touch—Floyd was living in his bunker, after all, and John Dory was sticking around! Clay was busy helping Viva with the Putt-Putt Trolls’ end of the connecting route between the golf course and Trollstopia, and Bruce had his business and family, but they were staying in contact. Surely, if all of Branch’s brothers could come back into his life with no strings attached, then why couldn’t his parents? They’d even given him a promise bracelet—though all the examples Branch found in the library scrapbooks had had more color to them than the one he was wearing.

But… maybe it was the years of isolation. Maybe Branch was being paranoid, letting his fear trickle into his brain and poison his thoughts. But yet… if his parents wanted to reconnect, then why wouldn’t they start with the sons they actually met? Rhonda was difficult to hide—and John Dory wasn’t making any effort to do so, either—and it was well-known throughout the village that the armadillo-bus was where John Dory had taken up residence. Why wouldn’t they go there first?

Maybe they had. Maybe Branch was just getting too caught in his own head. He did that a lot, it felt, worrying over what everyone else was sure was nothing. And more often than not, it felt like it was everyone else who was right.

“Thinkin’ hard over there, Bit—Branch?” John Dory prompted, plate in one paw as he grabbed a chair to pull out.

“What were our parents like?” Branch glanced up at the end of his question. He immediately regretted blurting it out—but he couldn’t take the words back and bury them, no matter how much he wanted to.

It was a long moment before John Dory responded, face harsh and still like a statue, snarl building in the back of his throat.

“Awful.” John Dory grunted, knuckles white from gripping the back of the chair. “The absolute worst.” He set his plate down on the table with more force than necessary, sending a few bits of egg flying onto the table. “Always ducking in and out of our lives whenever it was convenient for them—” John Dory cut off with a snarl, whirling away from the table with savage force. “GAH! They just—I—Oh, I hate them so much!” He threw his paws in the air, tail smacking the table leg as it lashed in agitation. “If they ever show their sorry faces around here, I’ll—AAGH!”

As John Dory stomped off, his breakfast apparently forgotten, Branch released the breath he didn’t realize he was holding. His paws clenched and unclenched around his mug, new worries fluttering around in his head. Floyd took a conspicuously long sip of tea, staring at nothing in particular. His tail was curled around the legs of his chair, discomfort radiating off of him in waves.

Branch wished he’d kept his mouth shut. Familiar panic ebbed in like an old friend, and he had to fight down the hackles his body had raised. Right. So his parents hadn’t gone to John Dory first, then—and for good reason, if the way John Dory had been muttering as he stormed off was any indication.

Branch forced his attention to slide away from the encroaching anxiety and onto Floyd, who was staring resolutely at the table. Branch almost opened his mouth, ready to ask if Floyd had any clarification—he shut his mouth. Nope. He’d already made one brother blow up, there was no way Branch was going to incur a repeat with the others. He’d just sit here, then, in his own little stress-filled bubble, and regret ever opening his stupid mouth.

“Soooo,” Floyd began, cutting through the silence more awkwardly than John Dory at his most bombastic. “Did Poppy make that bracelet for you?” He tried, bringing Branch’s attention back to the white promise bracelet hugging his wrist.

“Sure.” Branch responded, lifting his mug to his mouth and taking a long sip of coffee. He was not about to bring up his parents again—one brother blowing up at him was enough.

Silence reigned for another long moment. Branch half-considered blurting the truth out then and there, and dismissed the thought.

Once again, Floyd was the first to break the silence. “Why’d you ask about…” Floyd cut himself off, reconsidering his words before he started again, “what got you so curious about our parents?” His paws remained clasped around his mug, and his eyes kept darting away from Branch every second.

Branch shrugged, swallowing down any notions of the truth. “Guess seeing Bruce with his kids got me curious.” The lie fell from his mouth easily, his gut turning at the lack of doubt on Floyd’s face. “Sorry.” Branch added. For the question or the lie, he wasn’t sure. “It was a stupid question. I never even met them.” His own tail curled around his legs nervously.

Floyd hummed noncommittally, bringing his mug to his mouth once again. The silence stretched on uncomfortably, Branch’s coffee barely room temperature when he got back to drinking it.

They sat like that, John Dory’s breakfast slowly getting cold as Branch worked his way through his coffee instead of through his thoughts. After a while of sitting in suffocating silence, Branch pushed his chair out and stood.

“I’m gonna head out,” He muttered, grabbing John Dory’s abandoned plate on his way to the sink. “You want anything?” He really hoped Floyd would come with him. He really hoped he could have some time alone. Branch shoved the knot of feelings down and focused on packing away John Dory’s abandoned breakfast in a jar to put in the fridge; John Dory could come back for it later if he wanted.

Floyd hummed noncommittally. “‘M fine.” He mumbled into his mug. “Are you?” There was something oddly pointed to his question, a sharp invitation that made Branch want to tear down his walls just long enough to spill everything—

Branch shut the fridge with more force than was perhaps necessary. “Just peachy.” He grit out, unable to bring himself to turn around to face his brother. “I…” He sighed, heavy and tired. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell. I just…” He fumbled for the words, staring at his closed fridge.

“It’s okay.” Floyd’s voice was quiet, “We can talk about it later.” He offered.

Branch grimaced. “Yeah.” He mumbled, tail twisting anxiously. “Later.” Deep down, he knew that if he pushed it off he would never stop—

Branch shook his head. He’d talk about it with Floyd later. He would. He just… his parents had promised the rest of the explanation today, his bracelet snug around his wrist as a reminder, and Branch wanted to hear that, first. Then he’d be able to tell Floyd about them coming back.

Yeah. It would all work out. Branch made his way to the elevator feeling considerably lighter than moments before, a sense of calm starting to finally settle in his chest over the whole situation. His worries remained, of course, but Branch felt more ready to confront them.

He was going to get some answers.

+=+=+=+=+

Belladonna and Daffodil had already set up by the time Branch made it up the tree around lunch time. The spread was similar to last time, with the same pitcher and bowl of fluffleberries—but with a plate of sprinkleberry pie instead of sandwiches. Branch swallowed at the sight of it, his traitorous mind darting to Poppy—why hadn’t he told her about his parents coming back? He’d certainly had enough opportunity, but it had seemingly never come up in the twenty-four or so hours since they had first approached him.

Whatever. Branch shook off the worry and forced himself to sit down on the edge of the blanket, brushing his paw over the promise bracelet. Belladonna nudged the pitcher his way, and Branch poured himself a cup of stoutberry juice. Daffodil cut a slice of pie and offered the plate to Branch, who took it after a moment of hesitation.

For a few moments, none of them said anything, just sitting there on the picnic blanket eating. Branch picked at his slice of pie slowly, unable to eat much past the rising anticipation. The bracelet was a constant reminder around his wrist, always noticeable.

“So.” Branch started, clenching and unclenching his paws around his cup.

“So.” Belladonna jokingly repeated, grabbing a fluffleberry from the bowl.

Branch glared. Belladonna smiled pleasantly, unperturbed by her son’s annoyance.

“You promised an explanation.” Branch continued, setting his cup down. His tail was twitching rapidly behind him, and it was taking all of his energy not to pull out a stick and start whittling. “About why you disappeared after…” He swallowed, the words getting caught in his throat. “After my egg was laid.”

“We did.” Belladonna agreed. She popped another fluffleberry into her mouth and chewed it slowly, seemingly contemplating her words before she swallowed. “We wanted to stay.” Belladonna said. “We were going to.” She sighed.

“We were so excited!” Daffodil continued, setting down his empty plate. “We’d had your egg on one of our… excursions.” He went back to the pie to cut himself another slice.

Belladonna nodded. “And the moment we realized we were with egg, we went right back to Mom’s pod with all the boys.” She clasped her paws together. “You were going to be perfect, we just knew. We showed your egg to little Dory—”

“And that was the beginning of the end,” Daffodil growled. “After everything that we had done for him, for all of them, he just—” He cut himself off with a huff, digging back into his slice of pie.

“You have to understand, sweetie.” Belladonna’s face softened, for a moment looking like the fifty-seven year old that she was. “We didn’t leave because of our wanderlust, we left because Dory cut us out.”

Branch froze, nearly dropping his cup of stoutberry juice. “What?” His voice came out quieter than he intended, in the sudden heaviness of the air. John Dory had… but that didn’t… “What do you mean, cut out?” Why would John Dory ever…

Branch was at a loss. His tail was flat against the ground, his paws gripping the cup tightly, the promise bracelet tight around his wrist. His half-eaten slice of pie remained forgotten in front of him as the world seemed to tilt.

“It was some silly fight,” Belladonna waved off. “I can hardly even remember what it was about! But, eh, Little Dory was always so headstrong…” She wrung her paws together. “Once he had an idea in his head, there was no changing his mind.” She shook her head with a shrug, as if to dismiss the thought.

Branch nodded. He hadn’t gotten the chance to know his older brother for as long as his parents had, but from what he had seen? Yeah, John Dory was stubborn. He lifted his cup back to his mouth for another sip.

“He got it from you, babe.” Daffodil teased, tail flirting back and forth as he leaned in towards Belladonna. “Shame he didn’t get your sweet sense of humor.” He purred, his paw sliding up Belladonna’s arm. “But maybe if we try again…” He pressed a kiss to his wife’s wrist, slowly making his way up her arm with quick smooches while Belladonna giggled.

“Charmer.” Belladonna pushed at Daffodil’s face with her paw, hiding her smile behind the other. She turned back to where Branch was struggling not to inhale the juice he’d managed not to spit back into the cup. “Oh, your face!” She snickered, covering her mouth with both paws.

Branch’s tail thumped the ground in annoyance as he coughed, his near-empty cup back to sitting on the blanket. “What’s wrong with it.” He hated being laughed at. He hated not knowing why. He also hated almost choking on his drink, but that was a given.

“It’s okay to be grossed out by your parents flirting, son.” Daffodil chuckled. “All kids do it.” He stroked his mustache, reminiscing. “Ah, I remember the night when your mom and I were bringing Floyd’s egg into the world… the look on Spruce’ face when he walked in on us… ah, if only Bell here had locked the door instead of the cuffs—”

“Okay okay that’s enough!” Branch held out his paws, horrified. Ew ew ew, he did not need to hear that!

“See?” Daffodil grinned. “Perfectly normal.”

“Back on topic,” Branch urged, desperate to get away from watching his parents try to undress each other with their eyes, “John Dory just… cut you out?” It made a terrible kind of sense, as much as Branch hated the thought.

Belladonna nodded. “Took your egg and gave us the boot.” She confirmed.

“Told us we weren’t welcome around anymore.” Daffodil added, “That he had things ‘handled’.” He picked his plate back up to scrape the remains of the pie into his mouth, and Belladonna spoke next.

“We did try to come back.” She took Branch’s cup and refilled it without asking. Branch didn’t have the energy to make a thing of it, numbly accepting the refilled cup. “But Dory chased us off every time.” There was something almost bitter in her lamentations, some sour chord hidden in her voice.

Daffodil shrugged. “We gave up, after the first few tries.” He added. “Gave into our wanderlust and managed to leave the tree entirely.” He brushed crumbs out of his mustache and sighed.

“We should have come back sooner,” Belladonna lamented. Her mouth spread in a small, tentative smile, her tail flicking behind her. “But… we’re here now,” She affirmed, “And we’re not wasting this chance.”

“Even if John Dory tries to chase you off again?” Branch asked, taking another drink from his cup. His slice of pie was pretty much a lost cause, at this point, with the way his stomach was churning.

Belladonna chuffed. “Oh, no, that won’t be a problem.” She waved off, “Not where we’re going.”

Once again, the world seemed to tilt, the air heavy around Branch as his mother’s words hit him. “But—you said you were sticking around?” No, no, he shouldn’t have gotten his hopes up, he was just going to get left again—

“Of course!” Daffodil assured. “You’ll be sticking with us! It just won’t be here.” His words did not abate Branch’s rising uncertainty in the slightest.

“We can’t tie ourselves down to one place,” Belladonna offered, scooting across the blanket to be closer to Branch. “And I know my Mom is dead…” Her face fell, for a moment, before she recollected herself. “But we want you to come with us, see the world.” She held out her paws invitingly. “We’ve even got songs put together for you to sing onstage.” She sounded so pleased with herself.

“Yes, a family tour!” Daffodil spread his paws invitingly, mustache twitching. “You and us, traveling around, playing songs for the crowd… the perfect way for our little family to bond!” His voice was proud and eager, his tail waving rhythmically behind him.

But something about his explanation caught on Branch’s intuition. “Just me?” He asked, paws clenching and unclenching around his cup. The bracelet was starting to feel like a chain, tight and heavy on his wrist.

“Well, there’s no way Dory would ever agree,” Belladonna waved her paw. “And we came back for you, sweetie.” There was something in her eyes that had Branch bristling ever so slightly, some hunger he couldn’t explain, and didn’t want to think about.

“It’d be a lot less crowded with just three of us, too!” Daffodil chuckled. “And I’m sure your brothers aren’t looking to be performing anytime soon—we saw the events on Mount Rageous, after all.” He nodded, stroking his mustache. “Floyd could use a nice break.”

“Are you joking?” Branch’s voice came out harsher than he wanted. He didn’t care. “I just—they just came back into my life, and you want me to leave?” He stood, itching to throw his cup at the blanket.

“It’d only be for a few months.” Belladonna uttered, gesturing for Branch to sit back down. “We just want to get to know you again, baby.”

But Branch remained standing. “No way.” He said, squeezing the cup in his paws. Clench, unclench. “I’ve got a life here—” He chuckled darkly, catching his lashing tail in one paw. “Not like you’d know.” He added, bitter.

“Branch, please.” Belladonna’s voice was sharp, almost sour; the contrast from her sugary sweetness was a prickle under Branch’s fur. “We wanna make you a star—is it really too much to ask?”

Branch stumbled back, hackles raising. “You—” He didn’t have the words. In what world could his parents possibly think this would go over well? “You said you wanted to connect.” He managed, clutching his cup tightly, eyes darting to his promise bracelet.

“And we do,” Daffodil stood, offering a paw to Belladonna to help her up. “But Branchy, there’s no way we can stick around here—”

“Because John Dory will just chase you off again!” Branch shouted. “That’s it, isn’t it? Why you’re sneaking around and trying to make me come with you on some—some desperate attempt at fame!” He shoulders heaved, and he waved his cup around wildly as he spoke, spilling a bit of juice in the process. He couldn’t believe this. How could he have possibly let himself think that there wouldn’t be strings attached? He should have known when the bracelet first tightened against his wrist—nothing came for free. Not for him.

“Branch, you need to understand,” Daffodil started, “We really do want to know you, but if Dory finds out—”

Branch held up a paw, expression thunderous. “Don’t.” He snarled. “Save your excuses.” If John Dory would really be so belligerent about their parents—and after what happened this morning, Branch didn’t doubt that one bit—there had to be a reason. “You want me to come on tour with you? Then make amends with John Dory first.” He walked over and shoved his cup into Belladonna’s hands, before turning towards the trunk.

Branch turned back one last time, regarding his parents. Anger bubbled up his throat, but resignation kept his mouth shut. Of course there were strings attached, an underlying motive. What else was there to expect? Branch could never be so lucky—not like this.

With a snarl, Branch grasped the bracelet, “And you can keep your tacky brace—”

It wouldn’t come off.

“This stupid—” Branch growled, digging in his claws, but the bracelet didn’t budge. If anything, it almost felt like it got tighter. “Oh, fuck this.” Branch groused. He turned his attention back to his parents. “I have scissors at home, and when I’m done your tacky bracelet is going in the trash!” He shouted. “Just like my trust!”

Oh, that was stupid—why did he say that? Branch shoved down the embarrassment, turning away from his parents. As he started to make his way down the tree, Branch shoved any thoughts about telling his brothers about their parents’ return to the back of his mind. Belladonna and Daffodil could handle that announcement themselves. Either they’d leave and Branch would never hear from them again, or—if they really wanted in on his life—they’d put in the same effort with his brothers. Hopefully without stupid off-white bracelets that refused to come off.

Belladonna watched Branch descend the tree, face pinched in annoyance. Wordlessly, Daffodil took her arm, his tail twining in hers. She sighed, passing off Branch’s cup to Daffodil, freeing her paws to fiddle with the bracelet on her right wrist.

“He’ll come around.” Daffodil said softly, leaning up against his wife.

“I know.” Belladonna sighed. “I just hoped he’d make it easy.” Her expression darkened, before it softened again. She turned back to the blanket.

“Let’s get this cleaned up.”

+=+=+=+=+

Branch groaned as he came to. What had hit him?

His whole body felt heavy, sluggish, his head pounding like he’d been to one of Poppy’s wilder parties. The floor under him rumbled faintly, steady vibrations pounding up his spine into his already-pounding skull.

Branch glanced around, looking for Poppy so he could ask her who spiked the punch and how much he had—

This wasn’t his bunker. This wasn’t Trollstopia, or Pop Village. This was a vaguely-homey space he didn’t recognize, small but cozy and completely unfamiliar. There was a vanity against the wall across from him, two bunks to his right, and when Branch managed to force his aching head to look to his left—

There was a small kitchenette against the wall, but Branch found himself skimming over that as his horror slowly mounted. Just past the kitchenette and small booth was a driver’s seat, familiar in shape and yet so so different from Rhonda’s. And sitting in that seat was none other than Daffodil, cheerily humming as he focused out the windshield before him.

Oh god. It was all coming back now—Branch had never attended any party Poppy had thrown—he’d made it back to his bunker, brushed off Floyd’s questions, and set out again—

He’d never made it back to his bunker.

Branch moved to stand, his chest pounding with a wild fear he hadn’t felt since Poppy had come to his bunker to tell him about the Bergens returning. He needed—

Branch tried to stand again, twisting back when he failed for the second time. The slight pressure around his chest resolved itself as a harness clipped to the wall, the cord too short for Branch to scoot more than a few centimeters forwards. His body threatened to collapse in on itself, his breaths getting quicker as panic wrapped cold hands around his throat. This wasn’t happening. His parents hadn’t just—there was no way—it couldn’t—no no no—

“Shh shh,” A crooning voice, a soft paw carding through his hair. “It’s okay, sweetie,” Belladonna sang sweetly, “It’s okay. Momma’s here.”

Branch tried to pull away, to push her and the encroaching pressure squeezing his chest off, but his limbs were heavy, slow, clumsy. He pawed at the air as Belladonna pressed up against him, an arm around his back pulling him tight against her. She cooed, whispering sickly sweet reassurance into Branch’s hair as he squirmed, like this was fine and normal and not fucked up at all.

“Doncha worry, Sprout!” Daffodil called out cheerily from the driver’s seat. “You’ll thank us for this!”

Branch would not be thanking his parents for—for trollnapping him! In what world—

“Shhhhhh,” Belladonna took Branch’s paw in hers, drawing his attention to the bracelet she had given him earlier—and to the missing Hug Timer. It was the same plain off-white as before, but with faint strands of sky blue and dusky gray running through it now. Branch couldn’t fathom what it was possibly for. That his Hug Timer was missing was more worrying.

The critter-bus hit a bump in whatever road it was traveling. Branch jolted, panic rising anew like the bile climbing his throat. This wasn’t—this wasn’t real, he was just having the world’s most stressful fever dream—

“It’s okay, Guppy.” Belladonna whispered, holding Branch tightly through his panic. “Momma’s here, it’s alright, you’re okay.” She smiled sweetly, her weight pinning Branch in place in a way that was only vaguely comforting. “Momma’s here,” She repeated, voice sickly sweet.

“And she’s gonna make you a star.”

#zaz writes #dreamworks trolls #discolored #branch trolls #floyd trolls #john dory trolls #belladonna & daffodil #parental abandonment #implied child neglect #kidnapping #okay damage fans you know what this is >:]#look i love the ''the bros' parents were eaten by bergens'' hc and in general that's the one i ascribe to #but for the purposes of discolored: what if they weren't. and what if they sucked #there's a lot of backstory that bella & daffy are NOT saying or simply. downplaying #take their words with a grain of salt fr fr

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imfinereallyy · 1 year

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Father Figures, pt. 2

I swear it was a one-shot. But then my hand slipped and "oh oops there's Wayne". You can access part 1 here. This is rated m btw. The full version will be available on ao3 (my first time posting on there...) which is linked here. Anyway, enjoy :)

The first time Wayne Allen Munson meets Steve Harrington is in a hospital room. Sure, he has seen and heard about the kid in passing. It was hard not to in a town like Hawkins. With the kind of money his old man has and the pretty face his mother parades around, the Harringtons become a sort of household name. Especially in Wayne's household.

See, Wayne may not be much of a talker, but his nephew sure is. Especially when he gets angry about something. And boy did Steve Harrington make his Eddie mad. During Eddie's first time around with Senior Year, Steve's name comes out of that boy's mouth so often that if not for that tone of his, he would have thought the kid had a crush on him.

Actually, Wayne regretfully asks at one point if he does have a crush. Wayne finds out pretty quickly that Eddie doesn't, which isn't the problem nor why he regrets asking. The problem is apparently at that very moment in time, Eddie hasn't exactly come out to Wayne. The boy shakes so much that Wayne is afraid that Eddie might cause an earthquake. Wayne has to calm Eddie down and explain very carefully he doesn't care, he's his kid no matter what. Eddie cries, and asks "Dad, what made you think to just casually bring that up?"

Wayne shrugs and simply says "Didn't think it was a secret."

Eddie lets out a wet laugh. Wayne doesn't mention how it's the first time since Eddie showed up on his doorstep that he calls him Dad.

His heart swells.

So, with absolutely no crush in sight god Wayne he's an asshole, Steve's name is brought up quite often.

"Steve Harrington just parades himself around like he's a king."

"Steve Harrington just stands there while Tommy continues to be a piece of shit. Worse, he acts like he's bored."

"Girls just hang off of Harrington, he's even got Nancy Wheeler on his arm now. What a prick, thought she was smarter than that."

"Looks like Harrington got the shit kicked out of him by Byer's. You gotta love Karma sometimes."

Wayne watches Eddie frown at the last one before saying, "Kinda gotta back Steve up on the pictures though. That was creepy."

Eddie shakes his head then continues to rant "But smashing his camera? Dick move. Doesn't understand what it's like to be poor."

Wayne is still not completely convinced it's not a crush.

Wayne Allen Munson seems to know all about Steve Harrington before he actually has the chance to meet him. None of which he has learned makes Steve seem all that good.

Imagine Wayne's surprise when he finds the Harrington boy next to his son's hospital bed.

"What're you doin' here?" Wayne asks, startling Steve from his chair. Wayne watches as he hops up from the ground, straightening himself out.

"Sorry sir, I was just uh, keeping him company. The kid's families won't let them out of their sight and Dustin wanted him to have a familiar face with him if, sorry when he wakes up. Because we weren't sure we were allowed to grab you yet. So I volunteered to stay with him, seeing as I don't have a job anymore, and well I sort of feel responsible for Eddie now. And, god I am hanging out with Robin too much because I am rambling. Sorry, Sir. "

Wayne raises an eyebrow at him. He has seen Steve around town before, hard not to in a small place like Hawkins. Eddie points him out once, scoffing at his perfect hair and holier-than-thou attitude. Wayne originally is prepared to yell at him. The sight of a boy who looks very much like the very ones who hunted his Eddie down just a few days ago ignites something protective within him. Hearing this boy ramble though, flustered and making himself hopelessly small in front of Wayne, makes him hesitate.

"Boy, I don't know half-em names you're sayin' right now. I do recognize that kid Dustin though, ya know him?"

Steve nods his head up and down, "He's like my brother sir. Our brother." He looks down towards Eddie's bed.

Wayne avoids looking at his boy and chooses to look directly at Steve. "Well, he's a good kid. Came to me when Ed was missing, at the school. Told me he was a hero, and that he'll be missed. Guess now it was probably cause he wasn't sure if he was gonna make it and didn't want to get my hopes up. Don't know what made him change his mind either when he found me again today, told me they had him here."

Steve's face softens as Wayne talks about Dustin. Wayne pushes on, "If that kid trusts you, I don't got a reason not to trust you either. Well, until Eds here wakes up at least. He can tell me otherwise."

"Okay, Sir." Steve makes his way to move around Wayne and leave. Wayne grabs him by the wrist to stop him, and Steve flinches. Wayne decides to file that away for later and lets him go.

"No need to leave kid. And stop calling me sir. I'm not your old man. "

Steve's lips lift a little bit like Wayne just brought up an inside joke he isn't a part of. "Okay, sir—I mean Wayne. Okay, Wayne."

Steve and Wayne sit side by side next to Eddie. It's then Wayne finally looks down at his kid. He can't help but the rush of tears that come up at the sight of him. He is paler than usual, curls flat and dirty, tubes coming out of every part of him.

"My boy." He chokes.

Steve thankfully stays silent as Wayne weeps. They sit for a while in silence before Wayne asks, "You gonna tell me what happened?"

Steve, who Wayne doesn't point out has bloodshot eyes, says "You going to believe me?"

Wayne simply returns "I'm willing to try."

So Steve tells him. Tells him everything that has happened over the last week. Tells him of monsters and other worlds. How it isn't the first time, how it is hopefully the last. How scary it is for them. How Eddie is stupid but incredibly brave. How Eddie barely makes it. How Steve will be the first to yell at him when he wakes up.

Wayne listens carefully through the whole thing and can't help but think of how fond Steve sounds when Eddie's name comes up. This isn't the boy Eddie once spoke of. Albeit, it has been a long time since Eddie's spoken his name. Wayne isn't used to tigers changing their stripes though. It's a pleasant surprise he doesn't comment on.

Wayne rubs his thumb across Eddie's hand. "How did he get out? If he was practically dead?"

"Oh, I carried him Sir."

Wayne's head snaps to Steve. "What?"

Steve shrinks a bit, "Sorry I mean Wayne. Sorry I didn't mean to disrepe—"

Wayne cuts him off, "Dammit kid, I'm not mad at that. I'm not mad at all. It's just—you saved him. You carried him out of what I can only understand is what I think hell is, and you didn't think to mention that when I first saw you?" Wayne looks at Steve for a moment. Really looks at him. He's in clean jeans and a polo, but that's where his old persona ends. When Wayne looks at him closely, he can see the dark bags under his eyes, the purple bruising all over his body, and the angry red scar around his neck. Steve looks exhausted, physically and emotionally. Steve looks like a boy, desperately trying to be a man. He looks like a soldier after war.

"It's not a big deal. I did what anyone else would do."

Wayne shakes his head. "Steve. That's just the thing, I'm pretty sure no one else woulda done that. And even if they would, it doesn't make what you did any less important. So, thank you."

Steve's eyes mist a bit when Wayne says "it doesn't make what you did any less important." He looks away from Wayne and just nods.

"Okay?"

"Okay, Sir. Okay, Wayne."

---

When Eddie wakes a few days later, after a night of breathing on his own without the tubes, he interrupts Steve and Wayne's conversation on the Chicago Cubs, and says "Dad?"

Wayne is up in an instant, crowding his boy's face. "Oh, Eds. I am so glad yer alright. You scared me."

"Mmm sorry," Eddie mumbles nuzzling Wayne's chest. He then looks up towards Steve, who is watching the interaction between the two men. "Harrington?"

Steve leans forward on his elbows, and chokes out "I told you not to be cute."

Eddie giggles, his tears reflecting Steve's "Sorry big boy, can't help what you're born with."

Steve looks up at the ceiling with a wet laugh. It eventually turns into a deep sob. The only other time Wayne witnesses Steve break like this over the past few days is when he's reunited with Hopper. "You shithead, you're not allowed to be funny right now. Don't. Don't do that again. Okay? You really scared us." Wayne can hear Steve's unspoken you really scared me.

Eddie's tears are rushing down his face now. "I'm sorry Steve. I'm so sorry."

"You didn't do anything wrong. Just—next time, don't let there be a next time. Okay?" Steve's not making much sense to Wayne as he leans his head on Eddie's bed face down.

Eddie seems to get it though. He hesitantly strokes Steve's head with his fingers. "Okay, Stevie. I promise. Now, get some sleep. It's your turn, I've had enough."

Steve's shoulders sag as he gives in. Wayne shares a look with Eddie, and Wayne knows right there they have the same thought.

They've collected another stray.

———

When Eddie is home, Steve becomes a regular occurrence in their newly acquired government-funded house. He helps a lot the first month especially. Takes Eddie and the Mayfield girl to and from physical therapy. Cooks dinner on the nights Wayne works (which is most nights) and makes sure to have leftovers specifically labeled for Wayne. Keeps both Wayne and Eddie company when one of their stress becomes too much for the other. Steve's even there on the nights the nightmares get bad. Spends his time on the couch until Eddie wakes up screaming, and calms him back to sleep so Wayne doesn't worry about him at work. Or so Wayne can get a full night when he's off.

Steve's there so often enough, that when one night he isn't, Wayne's concerned.

"You're going to pace a hole into the floor boy." Wayne looks at Eddie in their living room from the couch. Wayne doesn't tell Eddie he's concerned too. Doesn't think it would help much.

"I'm sure he's just held up, or got plans Eds. Not like he was plannin' on coming here tonight."

Eddie stops and faces Wayne, biting his thumbnail instead. "Sure we didn't have plans. But Steve's been here every day for the past month Wayne. And when he hasn't he's called. I haven't heard from him in like 22 hours—" Wayne doesn't point out that Eddie did the actual math "—and that's weird. He doesn't do that. We don't do that."

Eddie's anxiety starts to seep into Wayne's. He can't help but think of the worst-case scenario. Car accident. A run-in with that Andy kid. His mind even jumps to when Eddie was in the hospital, and his stomach sinks. Wayne can't help it, he has grown attached to Steve.

"Why don't we call some of yer friends, yeah? Maybe they've seen your boy."

Eddie is so incredibly distressed and doesn't even rebuke Wayne calling Steve his like he usually does. "Yeah okay, good idea."

As Eddie reaches for the phone though, there is a light knock on the door. Eddie rushes to answer it.

"Steve thank god I was wondering—Oh my god sweetheart what happened?" Eddie drags Steve in and places him on the couch. It's then that Wayne sees him.

There on Steve's jaw, is a bruise the size of Indiana. Steve's eye is swollen, and he is breathing heavily while clutching his ribs. Wayne remains frozen and Eddie frets over Steve.

"Stevie, who did this? Where does it hurt? What can I do?"

"Eds I'm fine."

Eddie looks like he's about to yell but restrains himself. "You are most certainly not fine. Do not give me that look Harrington—"

"Oh I'm Harrington now."

"—Yes you are Harrington right now because only a Harrington would be this stubborn and ridiculous. Now tell me what happened and tell me what hurts."

Steve's resolve loosens slightly, and his head falls onto Eddie's shoulder. He lets out a painful whine, "My stomach. It—fuck—it hurts so bad Eds."

Eddie brushes his fingers through his hair and whispers to him gently. "It's okay baby, I got you."

Wayne realizes three things at once.

One, Wayne isn't sure Eddie has called Steve that before. He calls him names across the board. But baby isn't one of them. Wayne knows for a fact the two aren't together yet. They have been dancing along the line for a few weeks now. Wayne thinks about pushing the timeline along, but the boys don't seem to be there quite yet. This seems like a step in the right direction.

Two, in the past month and a half Wayne has gotten to know Steve, he realizes that the boy doesn't do well around older men. He flinches at every sudden movement Wayne makes, and won't even let him give him a pat on the back let alone a hug. Also in that time, Steve has barely gone home. Knows his parents didn't visit him at the hospital, but did come home two weeks later to make sure nothing is damaged from the earthquake. Assholes.

And three, Steve avoids the question as to what happened. Eddie seems to let it slide. Wayne doesn't give the same courtesy.

"Who did this?" Wayne says abruptly, startling Steve who seems to realize Wayne's presence only now.

"Wh-what?" Steve shakes.

"I'm not mad boy. But I'm not stupid. I know this ain't a what but a who. And I think we can both conclude who. But I'm going to ask you anyway. Who. Did. This?"

The last of Steve's resolve crumbles as Wayne puts a gentle hand on his shoulder. It is as if he hadn't known a gentle touch from a father before. Maybe he hasn't.

"My dad. He uh, we got into a fight last night. Found out how much time I was spending here, with Eddie, with the kids. He started saying how I was spending time with the wrong people. I tried to just nod and go upstairs because it was just easier to ignore him than fight him sometimes. Like what's he going to do right? He's only here a couple of days a year. But then he mentioned Robin and he called her a slur, and that said her kind was an abomination. And oh god I don't even know how he found that out Robs is going to be pissed she's been so careful—"

"Babe." Eddie squeezes Steve's hand.

"Right sorry, he just was going off about Robin. And it just set me off, I just lost it on him. How dare he talk about her that way? And I just told him that if he's got a problem with her, then he's got a problem with me too. And God Wayne, the silence that came after. It was like all the words had been sucked out of the room. Next thing I know he's grabbing me by the jaw and throwing me on the floor. And he just starts kicking me, screaming about how I am no son of his. I didn't know what to do. My mom just watched it all. I just laid there... I should have fought back—I—" Steve trails off trying to collect himself.

"When he was done he sent me to my room and told me to think about what I'm doing to this family. I just laid there all night and all day, just waiting for them to leave. I had to wait til they left for dinner tonight to get out. I can't—I can't go back there. Me and Robs were planning on moving in together next week, we made a deposit on this two-bedroom downtown, but I don't think I can spend another week there, and oh god, all my stuff is there. What have I done." Steve puts his head in his hands.

Eddie is crying with Steve by the end of it. Neither he nor Wayne comments on how Steve just came out to the both of them. It doesn't seem important at that moment. Wayne crouches down to eye level with Steve.

"You did nothing wrong. There is nothing wrong with you. You did what you had to do to survive, and even if you didn't it still wouldn't be your fault."

Wayne stands back to his full height. "Now, you can stay here until you and the bird girl have your place. Do not fight me on it. Anyway Steve, I know it's difficult right now. But I'm going to need you to let me know what you need from your house."

"What, why?"

Wayne just sighs, "I know you ain't stupid. Just tell me."

Steve seems hesitant but tells Wayne anyway.

He nods at both his boys when he speaks next. "You two stay put. I'll be back soon."

Steve and Eddie both look like they want to fight Wayne on it. Steve wants to stop him from leaving at all, and Eddie probably wants to stop him from going without him. They both smartly stay silent.

"Okay, Uncle Wayne."

"Okay, Wayne."

———

Later, Wayne comes back with three duffle bags and bruised knuckles.

Steve hugs him without a second thought.

———-

A few days pass and the three of them are in the kitchen when Eddie asks. "Did ya tell hop?"

Steve snorts in his coffee. "Hell no."

Wayne can't help his curiosity as he watches the both of them across the table.

"Steve, you have to tell Hop. He's going to find out anyway." Eddie pushes as he puts an ungodly amount of sugar in his coffee.

"No I don't. He'll just flip out, there is no good reason to tell him."

Eddie puts his hands on his hips. It reminds Wayne of Steve the past couple of times he's seen him around the kids. "I can think of one good reason. He's practically your dad. And I'm pretty sure your Dad would want to know what your old man did to ya."

Wayne can't help but hum in agreement. He knows if Eddie's old man comes around, he wants to be the first to find out.

Steve looks at Wayne briefly before saying, "No he's not. He's just like that with everyone."

"No, he's not. With El? Yea, that's his daughter. Maybe even Will. But not with anyone else. Except you. Why do you think I'm afraid of him?"

Steve gives him a look, "Cause he's an ex-cop Eds."

"Please that doesn't scare me. Didn't scare me when he was an actual cop either."

Wayne isn't sure that's entirely true. He remembers a very specific incident of Eddie tripping over his laces to get away from Jim.

Eddie carries on, "No, he scares me 'cause he's your dad, and I know he'll hang me by my toenails if I so much as make you cry. So yea, I think you should let him know. Besides, we both know he's going to be way more pissed when he finds out from literally anyone else. And we both know he will because you told Robin, who definitely told Nancy, who probably told Joyce, and you can see where I am heading with this."

Steve throws his head back and groans. "He's going to full government name me when he finds out."

Eddie lets out a manic giggle, "Ooo, you never told me what your full name is. Now you gotta tell me, Stevie."

Steve gives Eddie an exasperated look, "It's Steven James Harrington."

It's now Eddie's turn to groan. "Of course, you have his name. Well, I guess it's better than Richard. Hop must love that. Was kinda hoping you had my name or something."

Wayne makes a mental note to talk to Jim himself. Knows Steve will avoid it. But Wayne's got to make sure someone is looking after Steve when he can't. Wayne's been meaning to thank the man anyway. For all his done for Eddie. And now, for all he's done for Steve.

"Want me to make you feel better Eds?" Steve says with a smirk.

"Please. I'm not sure if I can go on any further with the torture of knowledge that contains your middle name."

"Hopper's middle name is Edward."

The scream of joy Eddie lets out nearly punctures what's left of Wayne's hearing.

———

By midsummer, the boys are an item. They haven't said anything to Wayne but he can tell. One day, the boys come back from their friend's weekly dinner holding hands. So they didn't have to tell Wayne. Not really.

It is just that, Wayne has gotten to know Steve Harrington over the past few months. He has gotten to know him as "Friend Steve" and "Brother Steve", and even after one intense game night, "King Steve". Wayne has a feeling though that "Boyfriend Steve" is different. As much as he likes the boy, his kid comes first. Wayne feels he needs to give Steve a talk.

The problem is he can't really give him a talk if neither of them has really told him. He has made that mistake once with Eddie, assuming, he won't be making it again.

So Wayne waits. And waits. And waits. And just as he is thinking he might never get the verbal confirmation from the two, he gets the image clear as day of what the two are on a Tuesday when he gets to go home early from work.

It's just not in the way he expects or wants.

Wayne can't really blame the boys. They didn't know Wayne would be coming home early, it was a surprise to Wayne himself. So they probably didn't think that anyone would be coming around the Munson household on Tuesday at midnight.

That doesn't make the situation any less scarring.

See, Wayne Allen Munson wasn't a god-fearing man. He can't be with what his Eddie had been through. But he can't help but think this is some sort of cosmic punishment when he gets home and hears moaning.

Wayne stands there in the foyer as a loud, "Yes baby just like that" and "Oh god, harder" and even the unfortunate "You're so tight, it's like you were made for me."

Wayne thinks god might be laughing at him. Wayne can't really go upstairs and stop them. They are both adults and he feels that having an image of what they are doing would be substantially worse than the noises.

Wayne decides to put some earplugs in (which thankfully cut off the noise, since his age made him half deaf anyway), sat in his armchair, and waits it out.

About an hour later (jesus an hour later) Steve comes downstairs to the kitchen in only his boxers. He doesn't seem to notice Wayne. His head is in the freezer when Wayne decides to clear his throat loudly.

Steve slams his head in fright and whips around with an icepack in his hand. "Oh shit."

"Oh shit is right."

All the color drains from Steve's face. "How much did you hear?"

Wayne appreciates that Steve cuts right to the chase. "Enough." He knows he can explain to the boy that he didn't really hear that much, and the earplugs are firmly in his hands as evidence, but he decides to torture Steve.

Just a little bit, can't have him too comfortable.

"I'm so sorry Mr. Munson, I—"

Wayne cuts him off. "No need to apologize, just as long as you boys are being safe that's all I care about. No that ain't what I want to talk to you about."

Steve visibly swallows as he sits across the counter from Wayne. "What about then?"

"Look, I'm awfully happy for the two of you. It's about time you boys got your shit together—"

Steve lets out a small laugh at the comment. Wayne continues. "—but I need to make things clear with you Steve. You hurt my kid, I hurt you. Eds has been through a lot. Not just with the whole spring break situation. I mean his whole life. He bounced around from place to place until he landed on my doorstep. He's used to giving his all, and not getting much in return. Eddie loves with his whole chest, and he doesn't know how to do it any other way. You better make sure you're worthy of it because I am not sure anyone is...including me. You're pretty damn close though, I know it. I can see it. You're a good person. But that boy is my whole world. I know where to hide a body if need be."

Wayne expects Steve to cower in fear, but instead, he smiles softly at him. "Don't worry. I'll dig the grave myself. I'll try my best not to hurt him, sir. I can't promise much, but I can promise I'll love him every day without fail."

"You tell him that yet kid?"

Steve shakes his head, "No. I think soon though sir."

Wayne nods feeling satisfied. "Good, and enough of this sir crap I thought we've been over this."

"Okay, Wayne."

"Better. Now, who's the ice pack for? You or him, because I don't want to have to grab the shovel outta the shed tonight."

Steve's blush spreads from his cheeks all the way down to his chest. "Uuuh, for me sir. I mean Wayne."

"Good. Go grab my son for me now will ya?"

Steve stutters, "Wh-what? Why?"

"Just go grab 'em."

Steve runs upstairs and brings down a smug-looking Eddie. Wayne's sure Steve gave him the rundown of what he heard, and Eddie doesn't appear to be ashamed like Steve had the smarts to do.

Little shit.

"Sorry Wayne didn't know you were home. Was that what you wanted to talk about?"

Wayne looks from Steve to Eddie, before narrowing his eyes at the latter. "Nope. It's your turn."

"My turn?" Eddie's confident face turns confused while Steve's flashes surprise.

"Yea kid your turn." Wayne contemplates for a second what to say, but knows in the end that Eddie will get the message loud and clear from one sentence alone.

"You hurt him—" Wayne turns to point at Steve, before facing Eddie again "—I hurt you. Got it?"

All the color drains from Eddie's face. That's the reaction he is looking for.

"Got it." Eddie grabs Steve's hand to make his way back upstairs. Before they are completely out of sight, Steve catches Wayne's eye. The boy looks softer than he did before. He looks like he wants to say something but settles on,

"Goodnight Wayne."

"Goodnight Steve."

———

Steve doesn't ask Wayne about that night until months later in October. Wayne is on the couch with a beer when Steve walks in (he has the key Eddie gave him in September). "Eddie's not here right now. Think he's running late with band practice."

"Oh I'm sorry. I can come back later." Steve stands awkwardly in the doorway.

"Don't be silly come sit. I'm just watching the game. It's no cubs considering they didn't make it far, but it's still a good game."

Steve nods and makes himself comfortable on the couch. Since spring break, Wayne and Steve have built a friendship of sorts. Steve still shows signs of apprehension in the first few seconds, but the conversation becomes an easy flow after a while. They usually talk about sports, cars, or cooking. All stuff Wayne enjoys but Eds won't show the slightest interest in. It's nice, to have someone to share this stuff with.

Today they mostly talk about the game on tv and Eddie's habit of running late. It's after a particularly funny joke about Eddie being late to his own birth that Steve asks, "Hey Wayne, can I ask you something?"

"Ya just did kid."

"God, you sound like Eddie."

Wayne chuckles, "Sure Steve. Shoot."

"Why did you talk to Eddie too? About the whole, hurting each other stuff? I mean Eddie's your kid, and I'm just the guy who gets to spend time with him." Steve waves his hands around, it reminds Wayne of Ed.

"Well, I love ya both," Wayne says easily while he takes a sip of his beer, like it isn't hard to say. And it isn't really. It was quite simple to Wayne. Just like Eddie, Steve might not be his kid by blood but he is close as he can come.

"Oh." Steve takes a deep breath, as if he is holding back tears, and says "Thanks, Wayne. I love you too."

Wayne almost mistakes the pain as Steve's voice as reluctance. The happiness that shines in his eyes says something else. Says he doesn't hear that from fathers very often. Says he hopes Wayne means it.

He does mean it.

Eddie walks in the doorway to find the two men silently staring at each other, and Steve close to tears. "Well hello there my lovely family how are—Wayne what did you do to Steve? Did you yell at him? I promise the bruise on my face was from dropping a wrench while trying to fix the van. Nothing else." Eddie pulls Steve up and squishes his face between his hands. "What did he say to you, baby?"

Steve shakes his head and laughs lightly at Eddie's antics. "Nothing bad. Promise. Happy tears."

"Happy tears?"

"Happy tears."

Eddie stares at him for long moment before deciding he believes him. "Okay. Okay. I relent." He grabs Steve's hand and throws a wave at Wayne. "Let's go upstairs though, I have to tell you about practice and how Gareth brought a boy with him! And you'll never believe what boy it was! It was our little baby Byers himself..."

Wayne hears Steve's gasp and Eddie's giggle as he continues on up the stairs. Wayne can't help the warmth that settles in his chest.

Because Wayne Allen Munson is lucky to have two wonderful boys. And he is even luckier that his two boys love each other. Because they deserve that and so much more.

———

Okay, it’s a lot I know. I just couldn’t resist. I wanted to write Steve and Wayne too. I think this one is less sad and more funny but I think that kind of speaks for the kind of relationship the two of them would have. Also it contains much more steddie than the last one. I’m thinking about maybe writing a part 3 with Steve’s relationship with the kids and how he’s their father figure? But for now it ends here. Also this took me like two days to write? I’m sorry for any mistakes or rushed parts. I am one woman show. Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed :)

Also I have finally posted on ao3!!! Can’t believe it, I’ve been so nervous about it especially because I am still without a beta. But this felt long enough to put there and I wanted to be able to share with more people.

access part. 1 here and ao3 here

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