Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

B. Zuka disliked gods. 

That was probably one of the most well known facts about him—after, of course, that he used to be Blackrocks legend— and very few knew why. 

In fact, it was likely closer to hate than mere dislike, it wasn’t that he was uninterested or annoyed with them for one useless reason or another, it was a burning fury of his entire being. 

Or— it had been, now…he was too exhausted to bother getting riled up about the slightest mention, besides, he knew better than to bother, cursing things into the world only ever brought them closer in his opinion. 

Of course, with said stance on the deities, this meant that his (adopted) son was never really told any of the usual myths and stories (although he already knew a fair amount from beforehand, he never learned anything new). Rocket didn’t seem to mind at least, he didn’t really have the best experience with them either, but it was just one of those rarely spoken about topics. 

Or it had been. 

Now, mind you, he didn’t blame his son in the slightest, neither of them had known that rocket would then proceed to become best friends with one of said divinity’s child —because Zuka had never seen them in person and rocket didn’t know the tells—, but walking to kid’s house, listening to his son rant about his day, knocking on the door and being met with Venomshank of all people. 

Ya…not they best moment of his life to say the least. 

(He was being sarcastic. It was likely, probably, one of the worst.)

He had full on frozen in place, blood draining from his face as they stared at each other, the outside world rendered mute as they waited for the other to make the first move. 

In the end it was their children, the whole reason they were in this situation, that broke the tension, begging to let them go play games. In a trance like state they had both agreed, neither moving even as the two ran off until the god finally sighed and held open the door a little further to invite him inside. 

He’d been hesitant, sweat dripping down his neck, but he’d forced his body to cooperate and follow the other to the kitchen, sitting down and watching in silence as they began to make tea. 

“Same as before?” He’d barely managed to stifle the urge to jolt at the sudden sound of the deity’s voice, zoning back in and realizing they were waiting for an answer. It was such a stupid question to think that it made his heart beat, discomfort clinging to the edges of his being as he shook his head, earning himself a (what he presumed to be) raised eyebrow. 

“I’ll take coffee. Black.” Venomshank seemed surprised at the words, staring at him with (what he assumed were) wide eyes before nodding slightly and turning back to the cups, a few objects moving back to cabinets and more leaving them without him even lifting a finger. In the matter of seconds he was walking over with two mugs, placing one in front of them and the other himself. 

They sat like that for a few moments, neither moving as the steam curled into the air and was pulled towards an open window, stuck in a competition to see who would fold first. Zuka eyed the cup before him, while he highly doubted the god would poison him (if he really wanted him gone there were much quicker, more effective, or even, painful, ways) he still had been a high ranking (important) soldier during a war, guesses only went so far when your life was on the line. 

A few seconds longer and he acquiesced with a sigh, he was too tired and old for this and if he did end up dying…he hoped rocket wouldn’t find out why. That didn’t mean he didn’t sniff it just in case, habit was a difficult thing to get rid of, especially after being ingrained for decades, but he took a long sip, choosing to ignore the other’s presence for as long as he could. 

He set the cup down with a quiet grumble, why did immortal’s’ always taste so much better when it was the exact same produce? Did they mix in pure power or something? The divinity took a sip as well, even if the ex-soldier had to keep his gaze elsewhere because of the…mask, it wasn’t the first time so at least he didn’t have to feel the divine push to follow an unspoken command. 

“I was unaware you had a…child now. It’s certainly…unexpected.” He snorted at the words, keeping his gaze locked on plant pot in the background (he knew he could probably look back now, he had seen the others face before after all, but that would mean he still held that trust, meant he still cared for the past, and he would rather shoot himself in the head with his gear than do that).

“I could say the same for you.” It was true, especially considering the glimpse he’d seen of the kid, they didn’t share the slightest resemblance (though he couldn’t really be speaking from that aspect).

There was a strained silence in the lull of conversation, both unsure what topics could be considered pleasantries and polite talk and what could actually be spoken of (what needed to be spoken of). He knew he should probably talk first, lay down some ground rules for if their children were going to be around each other often and establish his personal views on their kind and the past, but he…was tired. Unable to bring himself to care enough about their mutual discomfort with the current situation. 

Now, don’t get him wrong, he would definitely still be threatening the god on a basis of his own child, he refused to let anything happen to them, especially if it was even the slightest bit similar to his own circumstance (considering the poor kid had suffered enough in his life and he had barely started it), but that could —probably— wait for later. 

Finally, the itching need to speak, the unsaid words hanging in the air and the bitten back questions were too much for him to bear as he groaned, bringing a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose as he sighed, again. 

“What is it?” The other flinched at the harshness in his voice and he couldn’t stop himself from rolling his eyes, wasn’t he supposed to be the scared and jittery one?

“I- um…ah-…” it was almost funny to listen to a literal god stumble over their words, trying to say what they wanted but also worried it would scare him off. “I- we know you don’t…like us anymore,” that was a very big understatement but sure, they’d could go with that. “but please don’t let it get in the way of Sword’s friendship…it’s hard to find accepting friends…”

Hm, he hadn’t thought of that honestly, but it would certainly make sense, any (normal) kid who grew up with a (normal) childhood would be able to spot and recognize the wings on the kid, even if he tried to hide them, and the presence he gave off was definitely not “normal”. Not to even mention that the moment he bled it would give him away entirely. 

He had his own personal issues and hatred for the deities, but he was just as happy that rocket was finally leaving the house to go spend time with someone his age instead of staying holed up inside working or getting into trouble. It was nice (and it also meant the chance of him accidentally killing his new friend was much harder now!).

It was annoying that the other made a good point but he wasn’t about to argue just for the sake of it, instead nodding and taking another sip of coffee, at least he could take pleasure in that small part. “I’m not a monster that’s going to dictate his life, or who he becomes friends with, but if any of you hurt him…” 

He left the threat unfinished, they knew more than well enough what he was capable of, even if they were immortal, that just meant their physical body couldn’t be destroyed, it said nothing about the rest of them. 

Besides, if push came to shove, he would be taking his kid and going as far away as physically possible, he wasn’t about to let either of them get hurt ever again. 

“We know… you left for a reason.” He couldn’t hide the jolt this time, the mention of the past not something he’d been overly excited to revisit on a random Wednesday (then again, Wednesday’s sucked so he shouldn’t be too surprised he supposed). At the very least it confirmed that the others knew why he’d removed himself (he wondered if they knew everything, if dar- they had gloated about what they’d done, how they’d cut him off, how he’d reacted so pitifully, he wondered if they’d cared in the slightest or were as apathetic as their sibling).

“Hm.” He felt tired, this was too much worrying and anxiety for how old he was, if he had it his way he’d never talk to any of them ever again, but it seemed not only that life had other plans, but he also wanted to be there for rocket, which unfortunately —apparently— meant that he had no choice but to at least be on a polite standing with his kid’s bestfriend’s parent-whatever-he-was. 

“So, is there a reason you’re here?” Internally he was praying (not to any god) that they hadn’t followed him, because as self centered and stupid it might sound, the gods were possessive about their…toys and he knew well enough the lengths they would go to to make sure what was theirs stayed theirs. 

(Had seen it once or twice, on accident really, and never about him (at least he was pretty sure…), but it had been brutal to say the least.)

“Ah…well— I wanted to give sword a different childhood compared to— …he’s a good kid, I wanted him to stay one.” He raised an eyebrow at the words but said nothing, most people didn’t enjoy talking of their pasts, deities being no exception, and he, at the very least, could admire their willingness to try and do something right for their child. 

“We— I truly had no idea you were here until…well— now I suppose.” He hummed in lieu of response, that might be true, it might not, most of them were omniscient and were familiar with his essence, but he supposed if it had been a while and you weren’t specifically looking for him it was possible to miss (or merely ignore).

(He chose to pretend he didn’t hear every time they slipped up in who they were talking about, ignorance could occasionally be a better choice.)

They lapsed into silence once more, Zuka’s gaze trailing over to the window as he heard Venomshank sip their tea, it was such a strange situation that he hadn’t thought would ever occur and yet here they were (and if you chose to not pay attention to the faint awkwardness in both of them you could almost say it was going fairly well).

“…We m-missed you, you know?” They seemed to trip over themselves to get the words out, obviously not used to admitting such a thing, especially out loud (why were gods always so emotionally repressed? Was not talking about your feelings a mandatory rule for being a divinity?), and he froze in place as his thoughts raced far too fast for him to keep up. If the other noticed their tenseness they chose to ignore it as they continued. 

“It was…strange after— after you left, not that we blame you in all honesty, but it’s—it’s funny to think that a mere mortal life like your own could strain so many immortal relationships simply by— disappearing.” And wow…this was becoming way too heavy of a conversation for him to be having in the middle of nowhere. His fingers itched for a cigarette, tapping silently against his thigh as he held himself back, even if there was a window open it left a nasty smell he didn’t want any of the kids inhaling, not to mention it would be rude as he was in a guests house. 

And— wait a second. Rewind that real quick. 

What. 

He didn’t know if he should be surprised or not, he’d known well enough he was their sibling’s favorite “toy”, a strong spitfire commander with a legend title attached to his name and the ability to be both obedient (…most of the time) and chaotic when the opportunity arose, someone who wasn’t scared of them (…externally) and treated them almost like companions, cared about them (in his own strange way) and didn’t grovel at their feet or try to get things for free (…except in joking).

For well known divinities, it must have been a blessing. 

(A shame it only turned out to be a curse for him, though they did always say to be careful and not fly too close to the sun, or else you may get burned.)

Still it was…surprising, that he would not only admit the…issues that had appeared but also any vulnerability in the slightest, it was almost funny in some out of this world way. 

Genuinely, what was his life coming to?

“It’s…better now I suppose, at least we can sort of sit in a room together without someone being injured but…we miss you.” He didn’t move, breathing strained as he focused intently on one spot on the wall, this was…this was too much, too much for— for it to come out of complete left field. Why was he telling him? Why did he care?

“And—” Zuka lifted a hand to stop him from continuing (ignoring that fact that that was probably rude (he’d done worse before)) and sighed again (he was going to be left with no air in his lungs by the end of this conversation). He didn’t—…he didn’t want to know. Because if he knew than that would mean…that would mean he would care. And he could never afford to care about them ever again. 

“Don’t. Don’t say…that. I don’t want— I—…” he trailed off, words not working like how they should and internally fighting himself to get the rambling thoughts in his mind to shut up so he could think properly. 

“I’m sorry.” He didn’t respond, even though a god apologizing was an almost unheard of phenomenon (especially to a mortal), he couldn’t bring himself to…to acknowledge it. He didn’t want it. Didn’t want to be forced to accept or deny it. To have that burden on his mind. To know that it gave peace of mind to someone while destroying his own. 

Besides, it wasn’t his or any of their faults, it was theirs. Someone’s he refused to even think the name of, mind reading was always easier if you had a way in (a name (your name)) and he didn’t want anything to do with that bastard. 

“Unless you had something to do with it, which, for both our sakes, I sincerely hope you didn’t, you have nothing to apologize for.” …in this case. There was plenty they had done him wrong with but he had no interest in bringing any of those up currently, enough old wounds had been opened without them. 

They didn’t respond, taking another sip from their —now cooling— tea and staring directly at him. It didn’t matter if he wasn’t looking, he was well tuned in the feeling of a god's gaze boring into him (a sensation he’d been —mostly— happy to live without). 

There were questions he wanted to ask, answers he desperately wanted to know, but he’d learned well enough from the last time he’d dared to ask such questions. It was typically better to live a life wondering than be saddled with the pain and suffering that came with knowing the truth, especially when it was one that was divine (those always tended to hurt more, perhaps it came with the unfiltered power).

Besides, he knew he wasn’t the only one itching to ask, he could hear the faint tapping of their nails on the table, impatience bleeding through them as they restrained themself. A worthy try, though in the end, just that, a try. 

“…just say it already, I’m too tired for a game of chicken.” Was indulging him a bad idea? Probably. Did he care? Eh, mildly. Nothing could probably end up worse than it already was, unless he lost his other arm, then it definitely would. 

“Did— are you— …what…did they say..? After— after everything happened…” Zuka blinked, raising an eyebrow and having to internally restrain himself from turning to stare directly at him with the most what the phuck face possible. That was his question? Out of everything, it was that?! Did they truly wish to humiliate him so badly they wanted to hear his own stupidity come directly from his mouth? Had he really fallen for it again?

He was stupid. 

Gods didn’t care. They were cruel and bored and wished for entertainment. 

He should’ve known better. 

He could feel venomshank staring at him again, eyes as sharp as their sword and he wondered if that was a divine order he had to answer to, if his kid would become an orphan once more if he didn’t respond, if he had truly set himself up in a trap once more, a mouse in a cage with no way out. 

He was so undeniably stupid to have believed for even a moment that his opinion mattered in the slightest. 

The god’s eyes narrowed, gaze becoming worried at the sudden silence and heightened heartbeat, he knew it was a sensitive topic, definitely something most people wouldn’t want brought back up (especially since he knew how horribly cruel his brother could be when they wanted (and even when not)) but he had been given permission to ask so he’d assumed it wouldn’t be too bad.

(It seemed they always forgot that their assumptions were always twice what reality typically was.)

Hurriedly he scrambled to rectify the situation, words tripping over themselves as they fell out of his mouth. “They never told anyone! That’s why I wanted to know— They— they refused to tell us more than the bare minimum!” Phucking what. 

You’re telling him, the god of mischief and chaos (and sadism, in his personal opinion and experience), did not spend hours ranting about how they kicked him when he was down and laughed at the way tears had welled up in his eyes as they called him a toy with no real importance?! 

That old urge, one he’d barely managed to stamp down, of wanting to stab his old fri— …the god bubbled back up inside him. Guess they weren’t completely suicidal… or he really just mattered that little that it wasn’t even worth bragging about.

“It— it’s…” it wasn’t fine, not in the slightest, but…what did it really matter? It had been over a decade since it happened and he would rather move on and forget about it than consistently dredge up the painful memories. “It doesn’t matter.” He let out a breath and closed his eyes, calming his heart rate to a normal level before opening them and placing his hand around the lukewarm mug. 

“Why do you want to know?” Sure, he said they never elaborated, but that didn’t mean that was why he really wanted the truth, he likely could’ve used some divine power thing and figured it out like that if he really cared. 

Venomshank’s eyebrows furrowed at how quickly he’d seemingly dismissed what was likely the start of a panic attack (idk if that would count as anxiety or panic but wtv u get the point) but didn’t comment, they were stubborn and he didn’t want to reduce his chances for answers even more. 

“I—… we know of your new…stance on our “kind” and we just wanted to know what made it change so…drastically.” …and so he could maybe have a possibly-verifiable reason to finally challenge his asshole of a sibling to a (not so friendly) phight. Normal reasons…

Drastically was an understatement in all honesty, in the past you would see him (you actually wouldn’t, considering they were typically in hidden alcoves and spaces between existence) constantly chatting or joking (or poking fun) with just about any of the seven, some more than others (cough cough, his totally not boyfriend, cough cough), but in the end he likely spent more time with the deities than he did with any other (mortal) people. 

He’d met windforce’s son, an…interesting occasion, especially considering how close in age they were, but considering how protective they were of their child it was quite the surprise, and even icedagger had brought him along to go ice skating together (something that he’d learned later was beyond shocking as apparently some of even his siblings had never been invited to do so).

But now he scowled every time he heard someone mention anything to do with them while he drove phighters to and fro, the topic had an unspoken unwillingness to be talked on in his household and he kept any (unfortunate) interactions with their kind or messengers as short as possible (except this one he supposed, so much for keeping that promise to himself).

In fact, he wanted to distance himself so badly that he refused to look at the deity before them without their mask on, even if they’d given explicit and subtle permission multiple times that he was allowed. 

“Frankly I’m just…surprised that he didn’t start gloating the moment he got back. Horns knows it’s what I had thought he’d done for as long as it’s been.” Venomshank stared at him confused for a second as he processed the words, for far more than one reason. 

“Sorry— did you just say horns knows? Instead of— SFOTH or—any other variation?” Zuka gave the plant below the window sill the most dead pan expression possible, knowing full well it was blatantly visible to the other, wondering whether the god had somehow gotten stupider after he left. 

“…there's not many options when you refuse to acknowledge any of the divinities you know, I had to get creative and find something everyone understood.” Although it was still a bit hypocritical considering the broken state of one of his own, he chose to not voice his thoughts on that matter. 

“O—oh…that’s…actually sorta smart…” Thanks, that’s why he chose it in the first place. He rolled his eyes good mannerly and let his vision drop to his black coffee (black like his heart—), staring at it for a good few moments before bringing it up and chugging three quarters of it in a matter of seconds, if he wanted to get through this conversation and what was left of this day without threatening to put his gear to his head (again) he’d need as much help as he could get. 

“Anyway. I definitely should’ve expected it, you divinities view us mortals all the same, but my stupid heart decided it wanted to play pretend.” He sighed at the thought, really not wanting to keep talking but aware that he; not only did not have anything else to be doing, but also he didn’t feel like finding out what would happen if he disobeyed (or ruined his kids first real playdate).

The god’s gaze hardened as he spoke, teeth grit faintly as he listened, his brother had better have a damned good explanation for why their favorite mortal was currently low-key confessing to having loved them even though they knew it would end badly and they had decided to (apparently) make it worse. On purpose. 

“Y’all are too possessive for your own good, ya know that right? Makes you think you deserve to have whatever or whoever you want like we’re dolls just because you have the power to remove us from existence with a glance. It’s no wonder most people fear you rather than revere and don’t want to get involved.” While on one hand, it was nice to have someone always watching your back to make sure you never ended up “damaged”, it was just as annoying to always have to watch what you said or did and it was common to get left out of things with others because they didn’t want to think of the consequences if something happened. 

People were selfish creatures, the gods even more so, and they —mainly— only ever cared about themselves. 

“It’s like a dollhouse and you’re the child. We’re simply puppets for your enjoyment and the moment something breaks or gets destroyed you throw it away and replace it.” He huffed in annoyance, this was bringing out too many surprised emotions and he wasn’t sure how well this would end for either of them (mainly himself) if they chose this moment to explode. “We’re just toys for you to play with and discard when no longer of use or interest. You never care.”

He stared at his dark reflection without another word, knowing full well divinities weren’t used to having their faults exposed and on full view like that and there was a chance they were still reeling form the previous revelation but hey, why not make it worse. 

The god across from him stayed silent for a good few minutes that Zuka was briefly wondering just dipping and either taking his kid with him or coming back later to pick him up, but in the end he didn’t move from his seat. He was sure they could read between the lines and understand what he was saying, it was practically spelled out right in front of him (just without him actually having to say it out loud). 

He could feel a rise in power the longer the silence stretched on, the sudden realization he may either be turned into a zombie or stabbed if he wasn’t careful was not a fun one, but, whatever, it generally wasn’t anyway. 

“…they said you were their toy, didn’t they? And…” he trailed off, as though the words were stuck in his throat and he couldn’t care to get them out. In all honesty he was sincerely hoping the existing anger was not aimed at him but also if it wasn’t it likely meant they would come for karma so…he was fucked either way he supposed. 

“Well, it's what you all thought of me, wasn’t it?” That seemed to make him pause, like he hadn’t even considered such a possibility, hadn’t even realized he was as much part of the problem as he was against it. It was ironic, and sadly, very true. Perhaps it was because they were all their only company most of the time, which meant they copied each others traits (good and bad) or maybe it was simple ignorance to how they treated anyone other than their family. 

It didn’t matter in the end. It had already happened and it couldn’t be changed. So why bother fretting. 

“That’s not…that’s not true…right?” Venomshank’s voice cracked, like his own disbelief could alter the truth, like it could prove that wasn’t reality. Zuka sighed, gaze dropping to the floor in his own unwillingness to go through this right now. Whatever, he had started it, it meant he had to end it. 

…Unfortunately. 

“You are all so blinded by your own existence and beliefs that you forget everyone and everything else.” Perhaps it was cruel or perhaps it was honest, it didn’t matter. “Next time you think one of you deserves what they're getting, take a second and think about whether you do too.” 

At that moment both rocket and sword came running down the stairs excitedly, practically falling over themselves as they entered the room, rockets eyes covered by his hands and sword leading him forward. 

“Dad! Dad! Guess what?!” He was sure they had matching expressions at that moment, though perhaps the other had a slightly more fond one considering it could actually be seen by the chidlren. 

“Oh— and don’t worry! I made sure he can’t see in case you had your mask off!” Hmm, he hadn’t expected the kid to think ahead like that, though perhaps it was merely one of those things that had been ingrained into him since he was born, he wouldn’t be surprised. 

“Ah, thank you sword. Now, do tell…” Zuka zoned out as he told them story, instead focusing on the faint sound of his own son giggling softly and trying his hardest not to laugh. That was never good news…

He turned around so he was facing them, staring directly at rocket who had the most mischievous smile plastered across his face. Phuck. 

“I swear to— Rocket.” The boy froze in place, turning to face him with what could only be the guiltiest look he had quite literally ever seen. 

“For phucks sake…” he got up and, with his teeth grit so hard they could probably crack, he bowed his head in apology, dragging his son to his side in a similar position. “I apologize to thee Venomshank SFOTH for my son seeing that which he shouldn’t.” Said god blinked in confusion a few times before a look of understanding crossed his face, a somber air surrounding them as Sword looked between them nervously. 

“I ask that you find it in your heart to forgive him for such an act of impudence. And, should he be punished, I may take it in his steed.” Hatred dripped from his words, barely veiled with regret for his child’s ignorant actions. While there wasn’t a high chance something horrible may happen in response (especially after their conversation), seeing the deity unmasked (on accident) was not a simple thing. 

Although he mainly wore it to not have any accidents occur, namely when he went…“feral”, it was also a level of trust as what was underneath was…not the prettiest sight to say the least. 

“…I shall forgive you on one condition.” …Oh how much he hated divinities and their “conditions”. At this point if it was something along the lines of any type of interaction with the others he would rather be smited then and there or skewered or whatever you wanted to call it. 

“Hav—” he’d barely said the first word and Zuka was already shaking his head in negation, cutting him off with an emotionless “No.”

Silence followed, the kids staring at him jaw dropped and Venomshank…well he wasn’t quite sure as he refused to look him in the face. 

“So sure when I haven’t even given my “godly decree”?” He rolled his eyes, trying to take the high ground with him of all people was a flat out stupid move. One they both knew he knew wouldn’t work in the slightest, he’d only asked for forgiveness because it was practically mandatory. 

“You were going to make me go with you or some variation and talk with…them. You highly overestimate my will to live compared to my refusal to speak with them ever again.” Rocket’s eyes widened at the words, looking up at him with the most terrified look he’d seen since he first found him. 

“No! Don’t you dare touch my dad! I don’t care who you are! I won’t let anything happen!” He’d rushed in front of him, arms spread in a makeshift barrier between the two and stared at the god head on, challenging him to even try. 

“Kid—!” He tried to stop him but before he got the chance he was cut off, a determined and almost tearful expression staring back at him. “No! It was my fault! You shouldn’t have to take the blame every— every time I do something stupid!” It was honestly disheartening to hear a child his age say something like that, like he believed he should be the one punished for being at fault. 

(Which ya, in the real world that was true, but right now? When he wasn’t even a teenager? He deserved to be protected. Especially after everything that he’d suffered through so early in life.)

“W—wait!” Sword butt in, shaking his best friend worriedly, “I can’t lose you! We finally got to hang out!” Rocket looked at him pitifully and all Zuka could think was that this entire situation was phucking stupid. 

“All of you calm down!” Venomshank groaned, bringing a hand up to rub at his temples and— he had low-key forgotten they were there…. Oops. “Nothing is happening to anyone. SFOTH…I know damned well Windforce didn’t have to deal with shit like this with their child…” he said the last part to himself, sighing in annoyance before standing up and walking towards them, Zuka barely averting his gaze in time as he crouched in front of the two kids. 

“Actually— it was worse…” he muttered, arms crossed and decidedly ignoring the snort he earned from the joke (it wasn’t actually, the amount of times someone had gotten accidentally banned while banhammer was a child was far too many, the stories had been as funny as they were vaguely horrifying). 

“Anyway.” He continued, focusing back on the two between them, “even if your father…refuses, I won’t kill him, I’d get in so much trouble, we’ll just figure out something else in agreement. Alright?” Rocket watched him skeptically but nodded slowly after a moment, sword matching the action with more enthusiasm, brimming with newfound energy. 

“Since— since he’s seen your face, does that mean we can hang out more often?!” Ah, of course that’s what their first thought was. Fair enough, at least they were acting like children again, and them having each other was for the best. 

“Sure kid. Now run along so us grown ups can discuss boring things.” His kid glared once more, just for good measure, before running after his friend, leaving the two adults in a vaguely strained and awkward silence. One broken first once more by the deity across form him. 

“You know you can look too right?” He simply hummed in response, going to sit back down in his previous seat, holding back a wince of disgust at the cold coffee running down his throat as he drank. Blegh.

“That would imply that I trust that you trust me, and I don’t want any of your trust.” They raised an eyebrow but didn’t retort, taking up their seat as well and settling down with a content sigh once more. 

“Your words can be so cruel when you want them to be. I wonder where you learned them.” He had to physically grab the table to restrain himself from either glaring deadpanly or stabbing him. Either would work. Probably. Eh…maybe. 

“…we both know you’ll lose that fight so don’t bother.” And now he was acting like an asshole cause he had the upper hand. Phucking bastard. 

“I already stated what I would not do. Be my guest to come up with something else.” The deity rolled their eyes, placing their finished glass in the dishwasher and returning back in the blink of an eye. 

“And you did not hear what I was going to say the first time. So, why don’t you listen to that and we can go from there.” Ugh, he hated when they acted all ‘haha I’m better than you’. Bitch. 

“As I was saying, have dinner with me and the others.” Before he could object and point out how that was no different than what he already said no to, Venomshank continued, “Without them.”

He raised an eyebrow at that, while he most certainly had no interest in doing so, he also cared about his child and…no. He refused to say that… that he missed them. Because he didn’t. (…Not anymore.)

(…(🤨))

“And how do you expect to keep them from joining? They hardly follow instructions or rules as is, they'll only be more suspicious to find you all missing.” They both knew he was only telling the truth but the fact, in the god’s mind, that he was asking for more clarification, meant he was considering it. 

(Although he made a good point, Venomshank had an even better idea to get around it.)

“I have a feeling he won’t be very willing to get up at all when the time comes.” And ya… that was definitely a threat (though it wasn’t directed at him for once), better to not get involved. 

Though that begged the question, was he actually considering it?

He wanted to say no, both to spite him (show that the stubbornness they’d all loved and hated was still there) and to try and keep the (now dwindling) faith in his promise to never get involved with them again. 

He could already feel himself regretting it and he hadn’t even agreed yet. 

Phuck him honestly (I’m sure they would be more than glad to lmao).

“…I hate you so much sometimes.” He paused, reconsidering one final time before he sealed the deal on his fate, he was about to walk into a lion's mouth willingly. “Alright. I’ll see you on Friday.” The other was excited, for about a split second before he registered his words and suddenly started sputtering. 

“W—wait! How am I supposed to get them to come on such short notice?!” He raised an eyebrow as he stood up, “Well, I believe you should’ve thought of that beforehand no?” With that he began to make his way up the stairs, calling for the two kids and leaving the god to flounder over inadvertently being told “figure it out”.

Chapter Text

Most of the SFOTH did not have phones or, if they did, they rarely used them. This, of course, meant that trying to contact the others was…difficult. Especially while trying to not attract the attention of a certain someone. 

It, unfortunately, meant that Venomshank had to use more…direct forms of communication. I.e. appearing on their doorstep or already in their literal house. 

It had actually been fairly funny to see some of them jump twenty feet in the air in surprise or shriek loud enough to break the glass in a nearby window (did they really not see each other that much that an abrupt visit was so shocking? …that was, actually sorta sad…).

He’d gotten the majority of them to agree with little fuss (if you ignored him having to literally chase one or two down…) and now he was at the difficult part, find a way to make sure darkheart didn’t come (🤨) or find out. 

Now. The problem lay in the fact that, while he would personally love to beat the shit out of his sibling for revenge by all means, he also didn’t necessarily have time and explaining why he did that (semi) randomly would vaguely defeat the whole purpose. 

So. 

His current dilemma. 

He tapped a finger on his kitchen table mindlessly, loosely remembering the similar scene from barely a day ago that got him into this situation in the first place. 

Sword was eating his sandwich while talking nonstop about something he’d done with rocket earlier, half of what he was saying indecipherable due to mouthfuls of food blocking the words from coming out properly. 

“Chew with your mouth closed for SFOTH’s sake, I can’t understand anything you’re saying…” he pouted but did so anyway, swallowing a large mouthful with a bit of struggle before continuing. 

“Anyway— apparently rocket’s dad is gonna be gone tomorrow night so we wanted to do a sleepover!” Venomshank raised an eyebrow at that, a…sleepover? His son stared at him with the biggest puppy eyes he had ever seen and he was suddenly reminded of a certain soldier asking for the same thing with the same face over a decade and a half ago, breath hitching at the thought before he pushed it away. 

“Please please please please? We’ll be super good and go to bed on time! And the day after is a Saturday!” Well, it would be his kids first ever sleepover, something he most certainly didn’t want to restrict him from having, but there was a small issue…

He wasn’t exactly going to be here either.

He really didn’t want to tell him no, not when he looked so excited and hopeful, but he wasn’t leaving them alone in a house when both him and Zuka wouldn’t be anywhere near to help in case something happened. 

Not to mention he didn’t trust normal babysitters—

…

Oh. My. SFOTH. 

He just had the perfect idea. 

Revenge and happy children all in one!

“How about…you two have a sleepover here, you can even stay up a little if you want—but not too long!—and one of my sibling’s chaperone you?” It was frankly a horrible idea for this specific family member to chaperone anything, but if the little he’d seen of rocket was how he was like 24/7, having them watch over two balls of chaos bouncing up and down across four dimensions should (hopefully) be annoying (and fun) enough to keep them sufficiently distracted. 

Sword looked like he was about to flat out explode from happiness, eyes wide and more childish hope in those eyes than he’d seen in anyone’s (said a lot about the people he talked to…).

“Who is it gonna be?” Venomshank sighed momentarily before shaking his head, “You’ll see!” And opened up a portal to beneath the bridge he knew his sibling typically resided. 

“Be back soon! Don’t get into any trouble while I’m gone!” He blew a mock kiss before turning his attention back to the task at hand, glancing around as he slipped through for the tell-tale sign of the glowing neon green that adorned them at all times (at this point he was fairly sure the acid color was entirely their choice because their sword had absolutely zero color aside from black and all their powers had nothing to do with it either).

“Darkheart— are you there?” He spotted the god leaning forwards toward the water, fishing rod in hand and the faint glow of their smile visible beneath the hat, the other looking up expectantly as he got closer and— yep…still had a punchable face (now more so than ever with the new information he’d received).

“Are you busy tomorrow night?” They raised (what he knew was) a curious eyebrow, likely trying to discern what he wanted without having to actually ask (wow, maybe Zuka was right, they seriously had emotional comprehension issues…), glancing him up and down for any clues and deflating slightly when they saw none. 

“…we aren’t. Aside from perhaps more fishing, we had no plans.” They chuckled at the way Venomshank lit up in…’excitement’ at that, their smile stretching wider across their cheeks. “I suppose we cannot say the same for you?”

He nodded, making his way over and sparing a glance at the half full bucket to their side, whistling lowly at the contents. He was mad at them still, sure, that definitely wasn’t going to change, but he didn’t want to raise suspicion on accident that something was up. 

(And he wouldn’t admit that…he missed them the slightest bit, he hadn’t been lying when he said all their relationships had become strained after the ‘incident’. Especially with Darkheart. Most of them had turned more…recluse afterwards, this being the first time he saw them in almost half a year more than example enough.)

“Nice catch.” They hummed lowly, moving to pull the fishing rod back up, it wouldn’t do to have anything happen while he was distracted (he didn’t feel like trying to get it back if it fell in the water (again)), and set it down on the stand, turning fully now to face their sibling. 

“Was there something you needed? I can’t imagine you came merely to say hello or join me.” Venomshank really hoped the other didn’t see the way they cringed at that, ya…that made this whole situation a bit more awkward…

He sighed and sat down next to them, watching the river of the universe flow by in front of him and blatantly obviously ignoring the way they were now staring at him expectedly.

“Do you think…could you perhaps watch my son and his friend tomorrow night? They want to have a sleepover but…” he trailed off, not really having to explain the last part considering the reason he was asking wasn’t difficult to discern. 

“…And not to sound— rude,” they likely very much did, darkheart did not care whatsoever about what other people thought of them, “but you are choosing….us? Last I remember, you were not so…keen on letting me anywhere near your…child.” He tensed at the mention but forced himself to relax, he needed this to work for plenty of reasons, which meant he couldn’t afford to let the other get away with pissing him off so early on. 

Instead, he took a raggedy breath, thought of Sword’s hopeful and excited face (and Zuka’s reluctant agreeance to not only tell him (vaguely) what happened, but also to a meal with him and the others) and let out a small breath, pinning his focus to the —now—rushing water, dark and enrapturing like the endless void, and spoke once more. 

“I…I want him to know all his family, and— you know…he’s getting older, I hope this can— can maybe even help our relationship as—as siblings.” He almost felt bad saying all of this when he saw the way their eyes (probably) widened in surprise and they almost seemed…excited (it was true he wasn’t really included in family things anywhere near as often as before (which already hadn’t been much considering his penchant for chaos and mischief), but in this case it truly was of his own making). 

They looked him up and down once, silently spoke with their sword (something that wasn’t nearly as strange after seeing it happen so many times) before grinning. “Sure, we’d love to see our nephew.” Venomshank let out a silent breath of relief and offered them a grateful smile, probably the sincerest he’d given them in a long time. 

“Thanks, I’ll see you tomorrow at 6?” They nodded, waving quietly as he stepped through the portal and vaguely wondering what they had just signed up for. …eh, can’t be that bad, it’s just two kids and venom’s’ is venom’s, it’ll probably be a lot easier than if he’d been asked to babysit banhammer (not like Windforce would ever ask that of him but…you get the point).

1. Zuka had a lot of regrets. And currently, agreeing to have dinner with six gods he hadn’t seen in over a decade (the abrupt acquaintance with Venomshank not included) and had left off with a not so great note, was number two on his list. 

(Number one was ever falling for them. For believing their lies and thinking the trust and “friend”ship they had was anything more than a pastime.)

He’d come a good twenty minutes early, partially to warn the people that worked at the restaurant so they wouldn’t pass out on the spot (or get the wrong idea), and partially because he (totally didn’t) need-ed to hype himself up —he swore to whatever that wasn’t the SFOTH that if the other had been lying (or worse, failed) and they showed up, he was going on a rampage and either killing all of them (himself included) or he would die trying (almost—again)— before he faced one of the worst decisions of his (literally) goddamned life. 

Slingshot was standing behind the bar, watching him curiously as he was slumped against the table top, obviously wishing he was anywhere but here. 

“Listen, not that I’m not—er, happy to see you after a while but uh, why are you here?” Zuka groaned, this was going to be such pain to explain (briefly he considered ditching the whole thing and just going home, but then he remembered his child was at Venomshank’s house, Venomshank knew where he lived, and he did not feel like finding out what would happen if you broke a —serious— promise with a god).

“Trust me, I don’t wanna be here either kid...” slingshot raised an eyebrow at that but didn’t respond, silently pushing him to continue and get on with it already (he ignored the nickname, the other called everyone that —though considering he was one of the oldest mortal inphernals that was still alive…he supposed almost everyone was much younger to him— and he was beyond used it to it by now).

“…you might wanna either call vinestaff ‘n’ shuriken or just…make everyone else leave. Within the next…” he trailed off, glancing at a clock to his left and feeling just a bit more blood drain from his face at the time, “twenty or so minutes.”

Slingshot stared at him skeptically, typically when the other said to do something it was for good reason, he did know better most of the time after all, but to essentially kick everyone out or disrupt his roommate’s’ works for something was…not promising to say the least. 

They remained in a stalemate —a rather one-sided one honestly, since Zuka looked like he was on death row and waiting for his execution and he was internally debating the fatal importance of whatever the other was dreading so much— before he sighed and pulled out his phone, typing in both of his friend’s numbers and bringing it up to his ear. 

“This better be worth it…” he groaned, glaring momentarily at the —likely— disassociating inphernal before him before perking up slightly at the sound of the call being picked up, shuriken and vinestaff’s confused and annoyed voices filtering through the speaker. 

“Sling? Someth’ wrong?” And “This better be important slingshot…” came through, the restaurant owner cringing slightly in response, he took a deep breath and, sparing a glance at the cause of this debatable situation, placed the phone between his ear and shoulder, turning around to make another drink (because he had a feeling they would all be needing it soon).

“I need you both to come down to the cafe. Like— right now.” He heard a startled sound from both at his words, and ya, makes sense, that was pretty worrying in itself, not to mention the fact that it wasn’t a particularly easy task to complete. “Or—like, before the next twenty minutes. Please.”

He heard their protests and, against his good will, hung up (he was so getting in trouble for that later, he just knew it). With that taken care of he turned back to Zuka, sliding his glass across with perfect precision and watching —partly in awe and partly in horror— as he took it and downed the whole thing in a split second (he couldn’t figure out if that was just a skill he’d learned back in his “legend” days, or if it was because he was —probably— an alcoholic…).

(It also probably said something about Zuka himself considering he didn’t even check if the drink was poisoned —totally not because he may or may not have been hoping it was if only to get him out of his impending doom— and full on chugged it like he was doing shots back in his army days.)

“…Are you going to tell me what’s going to happen or will I have to guess as well?” He sighed, blinking away the faint fuzziness in his vision and staring straight into Slingshot's soul as he spoke. 

“I need you to promise this won’t change how you see me.” Ya…totally comforting… he nodded anyway, curiosity now one of his biggest motivators to understand as the other glanced at the clock again. 

“…I made a deal.” Alright, that alone was not promising. Especially since the shopkeeper almost never made deals (or at least not ones that were obviously of such high worth). He preferred to help others for free, something he, apparently, found was a nice contrast to his past job, and disliked most things to do with being indebted to someone. 

“With Venomshank.” Like—the god, Venomshank?! Like— one of the gods that he had very specifically stated he held possibly the biggest dislike for out of anyone slingshot had ever met or heard about? 

…He suddenly felt very unsafe with the way this situation was heading.

“To have dinner with him and five of the other SFOTH.” . . .

Are you kidding him right now.

He wasn’t sure if he wanted to throw the other out the window for doing something that clearly went against his ideals (in the back of his mind he wondered what could have possibly pushed the old man to agree to such a thing) or because this meant he had to serve six of the seven SFOTH in his restaurant in the next fifteen minutes. 

“…Maybe we should empty the restaurant.” Ya, to say the Phucking least. 

(He wanted to keep his license to own a restaurant, and his customers, and his restaurant in general. If the nervous look gracing the other’s face was anything to go off of right now, this was very very likely to not end well in the slightest. Phucking great.)

“Mm.” Slingshot sighed, there was no way they’d be able to get everyone out without telling them the real reason or not offending them, they’d just have to suck it up and pray (apparently not to any of the deities) that nothing —too bad— would happen. 

..His Phucking cafe dude…

“And why did you choose here of all places? Or, I don’t know, at least let us or me know more than fifteen minutes in advance?!” Zuka didn’t respond, eyes glued on the entrance with a startling amount of focus (he was a high ranking soldier though, slingshot supposed) and the tips of his —now— grayed horns glowing a soft blue ever so slightly (and from the looks of it, not on purpose).

(Jeez, what could he possibly have gone through that the mere notion of specific presences got him instinctually summoning his gear that, from what he’d told once more, hadn’t been touched in years. (Like, how Phucking bad was the divorce dude???))

“…well not like I was ‘bouta let ‘em choose. ‘Sides,” he actually glanced at sling this time, an unsettling feeling spreading through the restaurant owner at the expression on their face, “you wouldn’t’ve ‘lieved me, would’ya?”

…No, he wouldn’t have. 

Ugh, this whole thing was a complete mess. 

As he was about to respond the door burst open, effectively scaring the shit out of everyone in the cafe but specifically, the two at the bar. And, ironically, for the exact same reason and yet completely different forms of expressing it. 

Zuka, for all his training and better consciousness, had frozen on the spot and frankly looked like he’d been on the verge of passing out. Slingshot, on the other hand, had honest to—well, not any of the SFOTH he supposed considering the situation, been half a second from either shooting whoever it was with his gear or ducking beneath the bar to hide. 

Luckily, or not, in sling’s case, it was only his roommates, both shuriken and vinestaff standing there, panting and out of breath with a manic look in their eyes. In the blink of an eye they were already behind the bar and slingshot almost thought dying to the gods about to enter his establishment in less than five minutes was a better fate than being at his friend’s’ hands. 

“You have thirty seconds to explain before you get to experience being shot from your own gear.” And yep…that was a threat. And definitely one they were going to make good on. Yay. 

“It-it’s important! Zuka agreed to a—um, to a deal with…” he trailed off momentarily, unsure whether saying it out loud would cement the fate into reality or if it would simply be better to get them cause of this whole thing to tell then instead, before he saw their unamused glares and quickly continued on. “W-with Venomshank and uh—” he was cut off as Zuka finally spoke, all three of their gazes snapping to look at him and yeesh, he really didn’t look good.

“And now six out of seven of the SFOTH are coming to have dinner.” It was said emotionlessly, like all the fears and nerves had overloaded and he’d switched to a state of pure apathy to cope with what likely would end up being his impending doom. 

He glanced at the clock, the object now feeling more like a cursed timer of their fates than something to tell the time, “In four minutes.” …his roommates were going to literally kill him. 

They stayed like that in partially shocked silence and partially dreaded reluctance before vinestaff dropped him, his back hitting the floor and eliciting a soft oof, and instead turned to stare at the ex-soldier in disbelief. 

“You had better tip real Phucking well for the trouble we’re about to go through.” Surprisingly, it was actually Shuriken that threatened him, though Zuka seemed to barely register it, nodding in agreement with a shrug before turning back to stare at done nothing point on the doors. 

The two turned back to face slingshot, raising an accusing eyebrow before dragging him with them as they —quite literally— ran to prepare as much as possible. 

Luckily, thank anyone and anything, the “Private” room they had, because you’d be surprised how many inphernals came to their restaurant for “important business”, was free and they didn’t have to inexplicably kick someone important out.

Sling was never going to hear the end of their complaints…

Venomshank was very, very uncomfortable. Which was incredibly funny considering; he was a god and had lived over a hundred years. And yet he was (totally not) twitching as he led his siblings into the chosen restaurant (Zuka’s pick, because he’d refused to go anywhere he wasn’t sure wouldn’t be a trap) and silently prayed (to who bro? YOU r the one people pray to) none of them would notice how strange he was acting. 

Though considering the suspicious looks he was currently being given by illumina and the —not so— subtly raised eyebrow of ghostwalker, he wasn’t doing a very good job. 

You see, he, may or may not, have eh, how do you say it, not…told them…who they were meeting, or, that…they were meeting anyone, at all. 

…It’ll be fine… (…probably…)

The place Zuka had chosen was actually pretty nice from what he could tell as they made their way closer, he was actually fairly sure Sword had mentioned this place in passing if he was remembering correctly, and he low-key hoped they had a private section because he actually sort of wanted to eat for once. 

(Idly he wondered if this meant the other would look at him without his mask once more or if that was still off the table…)

“Honestly Venomshank, I haven’t seen you this insistent since you said you were going to move to raise sword.” Windforce teased and he really hoped this didn’t mean that would go into a tangent about their own child, even if it meant the topic started on him and how probably weird he was being. 

Thankfully, icedagger —surprisingly— stepped in, rolling his eyes as he spoke, “Can you not?” Although that might actually just have started another argument, he really wished firebrand was here to diffuse the situation because this was absolutely not his job and he was definitely not good at it either!

“So,” Illumina said as he walked next to him, interest clear on his face as they made their way to the restaurant, “why are we here again?” He sighed, he’d already had to explain this multiple times because none of them had been willing to listen. 

“Because, I have an important surprise, and you’ll see what it is when we get there!” Which was fairly ironic to say considering they were literally standing in front of the cafe’s front doors, windforce being the one to open them considering most of them physically couldn’t —without any accidents— and Venomshank wanted to be there first one in to make sure there were no issues. 

Sure enough, with a vaguely gaping jaw, an inphernal was waiting, staring at them in—hm, he couldn’t quite tell what the emotion was actually, too many mixed too much he supposed. 

“P-please come this way s-SFOTH…” poor mortal looked equally terrified, traumatized and three seconds away from slapping someone, the three t’s always made a perfect mix!

They followed the teal colored person in, breath hitching in the zombie god’s throat momentarily, hands shaking at his side before he pushed it down and gripped the metal of the door knob, opening it up as quickly as possible and stepping in to greet the only other person in the room with a wave. 

Surprisingly, he was beaten as the other spoke first, that tired and done-with-life look on his face as they all filed into the room. “Hello Venomshank.” And…yep, the others had finally noticed who was there. 

“Thank you for keeping your side of the deal Zuka.” Said inphernal merely grunted, nodding in agreement and watching as the other four gods lost their shit (it was actually fairly entertaining to be honest, not that he’d ever tell them though).