SULLY'S MUSICAL GRIAN ONESHOTS!! ✨

All You Wanna Do

we're back

yay?

idk why this guys been neglected ( it hasn't- i-)

ALSO I LEARNED GALACTIC!

:D

~

All you wanna do, all you wanna do baby..

I think we can all agree, I'm the ten amongst these threes..

It was Group Therapy Day! Yay!

...

Probably!

Either way, it was Grian's turn, and he felt like he should. He was ready to do this.

" ever since I was a child... I'd make people go wild."

The reactions to this were mixed, with confusion being more prominent.

" Take my father, something-charles.... I was young, it's true, but even then I knew.."

Grian looked down at the ground.

" Broad, dark, psychical Charles.. He taught me all about dynamics. He was fucking 40, and I was 7- basically 18."

There was some shuffling.

" I'd spend hours perfecting my act; when to speak and when to stop. He liked plucking my strings, trying to win justification... minor scuffles went to major quite quickly."

Grian still remembers it, he still does, he swears. It's not some fabricated lie.

" Sir, please, what do you want? What do I have to do?"

" SHUT THE FUCKUP, BOY."

A glass bottle crashed near him. The maid moved quickly to clean up the glass.

Tears welled in Grian's soft, innocent blue eyes.

" we could have chemistry; like I get you & you get me!"

Grian stepped closer to the couch his father was lounging on. He'd been like this since the divorce started.

It was Grian's fault. His father cared,  he truly did, but Grian needed to know when it was his fault and when he was being a fool.

Yeah!

His father was just teaching him, just teaching him-

" i TOLD YOU TO SHUT. THE. FUCK. UP, BOY."

He's off the couch now. He's heading near Grian. Fuck, fuck- no, fuck is a bad word.

Oops. Oh no. I'm sorry.

Grian could scream & beg and plead, but it wouldn't matter.

All you wanna do, all you wanna do baby..

Grian was slammed against the wall. His wings coiled tight against his back, safe, protected. Always protected.

Why couldn't he be protected?

The glass shattered above him now. It's sharp, shameful shards scattered, digging into his skull. Blood, red as the dawn (red as the winter, someone whispers) flows down his face. It's fine. It's all fine.

He's dropped, now. His little, useless wings flare to try & catch him, save him. His father is crouching down, holding his head in his hands. He reaches forward, he touches the wound.

" oh, oh no, my little one.. god, what have i done? i-im a pyschopath...."

Grian's eyes widen at the words, the only apology he'd ever get.