Hi everyone! I want to write my first Smurfs fanfiction and well… this is what became of it. I'm on a coffee high, on a Monday at 4:00 a.m., with no sleep whatsoever. So, excuse any typos, misspellings, mistakes, and so on.
So basically, this is a human AU of the Smurfs. And, I'll admit; it's kind of like a Brainy centric; but not COMPLETELY. Some Greedy and Clumsy centric, brotherly fluff (Mainly involving Gutsy, Hefty, and Grouchy cause they're awesome big brothers for hate/love relations because face it; they're a bunch of big tough softies), and plenty of storyline (I hope…).
Smurfette (because everyone in this fandom seems to fracking adore her…) is an adoptive sister. Yes, I probably just turned off some fans. But don't worry, she's still prominent to the story. No love between her and the boys, but I will have some, ahem, plans for her being the only (Teenage) girl out of all the boys. (Wiggles eyebrows) Let's say they're overprotective of her.
These are the name translations for the Smurfs (In oldest to youngest):
Papa Smurf = Peter Sanders (They still call him Papa though; it's too iconic, even for me to drop.)
Gutsy Smurf = George (Georgie; I'm sorry, I just had to!) Sunders
Grouchy Smurf = Grayson [Gray; works well since he's always moody ;)] Sunders
Hefty Smurf = Hector Sunders
Smurfette Smurf = Samantha (Antha; since Sn- I mean Samuel already took Sam. Damn I know this is going to be hard) Sunders
Vanity Smurf =Vitaly Sunders
Greedy Smurf = Gordon Sunders
Clumsy Smurf = Clinton (Clint) Sunders
Brainy Smurf = Brian Sunders
Snappy Smurf = Samuel (Sam) Sunders
Sassette Smurf = Sandra (Sandy) Sunders
Yeah… Papa had a lot of cold winters. 10 kids. Yep, she was a lucky lady. But remember kids, from a stork. And all personalities of the characters a mix of the original cartoons and the movies; so, yeah. Basically, a little world I wanted to make.
Also, Vitaly is gay. You got a problem? Take it to the people that care. I'm a teenager (barley but still) and instead of being on snapchat or whatever app comes out next, I'm writing fanfiction about a cartoon from my mothers' decade. For little kids.
See if I care. (spoiler alert) I don't.
Read on my people.
Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN SMURFS! I ALWAYS WANTED ONE, BUT NEVER GOT ONE FOR CHRISTMAS.
MOM!? WHY DON'T I HAVE MY SMURF YET?! I ASKED FOR THE ONE WITH GLASSES!
"Come out, NOW!" Came the angry yell of Brian. He was a short, underweight boy with thick black rimmed glasses. He had a mop of short black hair and sharp blue eyes; just like every single one of his brothers, with two exceptions. He was 14, and had just entered his Junior year, he had skipped two years back when he was 10 years old. Something he never let his older brothers forget.
Brian was pissed. No, correct that; seriously and utterly annoyed and pissed. His older brother, Vitaly, took forever in the bathroom. Every. Single. Morning.
"Hey, Brian! Why aren't you dressed-", before Clinton could continue as he exited his bedroom and came into the hallway, he was interrupted.
"Brian, I'm busy. Learn to get up early." He was surprisingly calm. Until, this happened.
"MY GOSH BRIAN, YOU ALWAYS MAKE ME MESS UP! NOW, I HAVE TO FIX MY HAIR AGAIN! IT'S RUINED! I'VE GOT TO LOOK PERFECT, YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND- "Brian blocked out the rest. His big brother looked similar to him; black hair and, instead of sharp; beautiful and shining blue eyes. Then again, all his brothers had similar looks. Even their faces were almost similar, except for the unique detail every then and now. Vitaly was just taller. Not tall, tall; just an inch or two more taller than average. Not much. His brother had come out the closet long before, maybe when he was 13 or 14 years old. Now, Vitaly was 16, and today was the first day of school. The typical, drama queen panic, they experienced every year, ever since Vitaly was old enough to dress himself. Scratch that, since he could talk. And they said Brian complained the most.
Seriously, he heard from their Papa that he would scream so loudly, even Papa would have to cover his ears; all if his outfit wasn't perfect when little Vitaly would look in the mirror. Oh yeah.
"Early?! I've been waking up early for YEARS! I'm sick of you hogging the bathroom as soon as it's MY turn to get ready!" Brian yelled. He pounded at the door furiously before groaning and deciding it was over. He'd lost the first battle of the morning's trials. The first, of many; or to be precise, the first of four more. Four.
He groaned once more and went to turn down the hallway to his and Clinton's shared room, only to bump into his other older brother, Grayson.
"Stop moaning, you sound like some damn zombie." He complained. He was tall too, maybe an inch or two taller than Vitaly, who was already taller than him. In the end, if he was looking up to Vitaly, he was looking up to every other member in this crazy household; except his only little siblings, Sandy and Sam.
Then again, for any normal height kid, his brothers wouldn't be so tall.
Grayson had sharp blue eyes as well, and the same black hair thing going on. His face was constantly in a scowl, making the twins, or his only little siblings, call him Batman on occasions. He was not muscular, just lean. Same body type as Vitaly. Another thing about Grayson was that his voice was always so gruff and quiet. You'd think he was shy until you were in a conversation with him; then, he was anything but.
"Well then tell, Vitaly in there, to hurry up! I'm going to be late!" Brian's voice came out high pitched and he tried to sound as irritated as possible. But of course, like per usual, if it didn't involve Grayson's own problems or well-being, then Grayson didn't care. The 21 years old still lived in this house, yet he didn't contribute like George did, or helped out like Hector did. He just laid around all grumpy about everything. It made Brian so damn irritated.
"So? Tell it to George." Grayson was only half dressed; aka in sweatpants and shirtless with no socks or, this is what made little Brian shiver; no underwear. He could never be called shy. He scratched his bare chest and yawned before another brother came into the already too crowed hallway.
"Do nae bring me into 'tis lad. Ah've got work taday. Ah'm outta the question." He pointed out in his bold matter. His older brother, George worked as a manager at a Grocery store but double-timed college. He did it to keep his share and with Mom gone, they needed extra money. Their mother kept a smaller income job that took care of the smaller bills of the house whilst their Papa took care of the bigger bills. Their mother had been a stay at home. When she passed, George knew someone had to take the plate for it, and since he was the eldest at 24, he took that exact same plate and planned to score a home run.
His older brother was the only one in the house to have a Scottish accent. And for a good reason too. The story? It's this; long story short, Papa had met their mother in Scotland. They fell in love there and that's where they had George, Grayson, and Hefty. Grayson didn't pick up on the Scottish accent as both their mom and dad had American accents. They just happened to have both been visiting Scotland at the time; their mother to visit family and their father for an old friend. And the only reason George had an accent was because he was extremely attached to their Grandfather who was Scottish native. Born and raised there and since Grandfather raised George and the other two most of the time, George had caught the accent and never let go.
They ended up raising George there in Scotland and half of Grayson and Hefty's childhoods were spent there. By the time George was 7 (already having developed the speaking style and accent), Grayson 4, Hector 1, they moved back to America to continue their family, where Vitaly was born a year later; so on so forth. So, George had been the only one able to build an accent in their time in Scotland. And of course, don't forget all the visits to Scotland and their Grandpa again, which only added to George's accent.
George was damn tall and even Grayson, standing side by side with him, was visibly shorter by maybe three inches. George was muscled well, since he was always a dare devil and bold guy, never one to sit by and let others act. In fact, George was always confident in his actions and choices, always the leader. He also had the red hair from their mother. His red hair was short up top but his sideburns he was so proud of, was connected to his thick 'mutton chops' beard. It was the beard that connected to his sideburns and went along downside his jaw line, but never actually meeting in the middle. He had somewhat rustic blue eyes. Because of his face and everything about George, he always appeared to be much older than he really was. Sometimes, people used to think he was their mom's brother.
"Again? I thought ya worked part-time!" Clinton Exclaimed. He was tall and lankly, no taller than Grayson, but in the middle of Grayson and Vitaly. Clinton had baby blue eyes that were always wide with innocence and purity. He had black, shaggy hair, often reminding Brian of a skater; but this could never be the case. Clinton was extremely clumsy. Always bumping into someone or something, and Brian didn't know if this was because of his height and large feet, or if it was because his brother was simply just accident prone. Clinton was only a year older than Brian at 15, hence making them automatically roommates. The roommate system was based on whoever made their Papa's life easier as it was extremely tough having to raise 10 kids. And because it was obvious there was no incest going on between any of the siblings, there was no fear of anything dangerous, well except for Samantha. She was a teenage girl; she needed her space. But apparently the boys didn't. It made Brian slightly irritated just thinking about it. George and Grayson get their own rooms. Samantha shares with Sandra. Hector shares with Samuel. Vitaly and Gordon share, because it was either Gordon or Clinton. Since leaving the accident-prone brother and the "Not as concerned" about filth brother in the same room wasn't such a good idea, Vitaly got Gordon. He was less prone to knocking down all Vitaly's expensive mirrors and such. Whilst Brian got stuck in a room with Clinton.
With the hallway so crowded with Brian, Grayson, George, and Clinton; it was causing the others in the home to awake.
Samantha came out first. She was their adoptive-sister. You see, their parents really wanted a girl back in Scotland. Before Sandy came around, they figured they were never going to get a baby girl; so that's when they relied on adopting a baby from the orphanage. Apparently, Samantha had just arrived, so she never had to go through the foster home system or anything. And in a way, she was twins with Vitaly. When they had just adopted their baby girl, they found out their mom was pregnant with Vitaly.
Samantha had blonde hair. Not the overly bright blonde, but a nice golden wheat one. Shining blue eyes filled with love for every living being and she often wore pretty dresses and sun dresses around. But the boys knew not to let it fool them; she was a scary, scary woman to piss off. They nicknamed her "Antha" considering there was no other nickname available since Samuel took Sam and it'd be too confusing to try and use "Uel" or something else. Antha was easier.
"Antha! I need you to talk to Samuel!" Came a strong and independent voice. That was Sandra or Sandy. She had red hair in a rough French braid, though it was so messy you couldn't tell, and her blue eyes were always full of determination. She was a tomboy by nature as was expected when growing up surrounded by brothers. She wore pink overalls over a white t-shirt and was already dressed. She was only 9 years old but was very independent and headstrong. She often liked being a part of rough housing and "boyish" things because she always just wanted to be considered as "one of the boys". She was the twin of-
"She's lying! A big liar!" Came a voice, extremely similar to Grayson's. It was Samuel. He was the other twin. He reminded Brian of another Grayson. He was always scowling and snapping at people. Always angry or down about something and always was rude. He had red hair that came to his ears and blue eyes that were always full of fire. Both the demonic and the spirit meanings of saying, "Someone has a lot of fire". Because when that kid wanted something, oh he was going to get it. No matter what. At the same time, the elder siblings of the family often referred to him as The Devil itself. Either that, or Thing Two as Sandy was Thing One. He had on a slightly oversized white t-shirt and a pair of jeans. He dressed very simply.
And so, trial two of four had begun. The twins. When they started arguing, it took Hector putting the two of them under his arms to get them to stop. And if they kept trying, it would end up as George holding one and Hector taking the other. They were feral.
Eventually, Brian knew he had to get ready. He pushed past the morning ritual.
He had it all calculated in his mind, step by step.
First, The Things get into a face to face showdown.
Second, Samantha tries to stop it peacefully but fails.
Third, Grayson and Clinton know where this is going and flees to wherever they flee. Vitaly would stay hidden away in the bathroom and turn the showers on so he could say that was why he didn't hear them calling him.
Fourth, George would get in the middle of the two nine years old. Hector would get ready to intervene whilst Samantha would back away and just head downstairs to check up on Papa and Gordon and anyone else that happened to escape downstairs.
Fifth, Twins get feral and Both take either kid to a different room and grounds them.
Sixth, the continuing of keeping them punished.
It was a long morning for everyone. Normally.
Finally, he hears Gordon calling him and his siblings and father to the table for food. Now was his third trial of four. Breakfast.
Enough said. Gordon was greedy and tended to eat all the food and with nine siblings eating and then their father? It was a blessing to even find a single pop tart in the cupboards.
Knowing he'd be instantly overpowered, he didn't even try. He just continued getting dressed.
He heard someone yelling at Gordon for something and rolled his eyes. Gordon was a big guy, not dangerously overweight to the point his health was in danger, but just a round guy and a round face and the sorts. He had blue eyes (again, the whole family had them) and his hair was black and the longest out of all the brothers. Sometimes, Gordon got lazy. Gordon was lazy. He didn't get haircuts because he said that it eventually started suiting him. AKA, getting out of a haircut trip with their father, which Brian could understand.
Kids made fun of him sometimes, but the minute they did, one of their older brothers (or even sometimes their older sister) would have that person knocked on their back, never daring to utter a word Gordon's way again. It was similar when kids made fun of Clinton's clumsiness or Vitaly's sex choice. Even when, on those rare times, Brian's brothers would find out about a bully, they'd come down and take care of it. Even Vitaly, Gordon, and Antha, the most peaceful besides Clinton, would get angered by someone bullying him, or Clinton, or the twins. Then again, Brian has gotten angry before once for his little siblings. Once, a kid around his age said something about Sandy, saying that his sister would probably turn out lesbo like his brother turned out gay. Long story turned short, Brian for once, made someone afraid of him that day.
It was probably an older brother thing.
After slinging his black Jan sport backpack over his white, short sleeve button up, he looked in the mirror. He had to frown. He was small and wimpy, even to himself. He wore shorts that one person in school so "nicely" pointed out, made him look like a UPS delivery guy, with his tucked in, short sleeve button ups and knee length shorts. In all honesty, he wasn't as arrogant and confident as he acted or how his brothers saw him. He just acted that way to make sure they didn't take advantage of him or hurt him. He looked at how skinny his body was, not the slightest bit manly. Internally he was berating himself when he heard the infamous yell of, "We're leaving NOW! If you're not in the car when I'm leaving, you're not in the car! Simple!". That was the yell he heard every morning from his older brother, Hector.
Hector was the athlete of the family. He broke so many records in elementary school, middle school, and now in high school; it was crazy. He was the typical, popular jock. But he was also not the smartest around. Now, he was 18 and this was the start of his final year. This is a secret Brian's taking to the grave, but he's going to miss his older brother. Hector was the armor for them. Whenever Brian or anybody was near Hector, they were safe. Hector, unlike other jocks, didn't tolerate bullying. Unless it was him bullying Brian like he always did, but then again, Brian understood it for what it was; Brotherly signs of affection. Right?
The continuous beeping of the car from Hector keeping his hand pressed directly into the car's horn is what got Brian moving. This was the fourth trial of four; the trip in the car. Yes, this was considered a trial.
They owned a minivan with two seats in the front, three (well, they could make it work for four, right? – pretty much what Brian's betting his parents were thinking before they decided to birth tall and strong sons first. Why?) in the 'back' seat, and then three more in the trunk as it was the seats you could push down and pull out and up ("make it work for four, right?"). With ten kids to eight seats, ten when you count squishing each and everybody each and every which way; they ended up with only one parent could be in the car, two of them having to squish in the front passenger seat, four squishing into the original back seats, and four having to squeeze into the truck backseats; this was Brian's childhood. Thankfully, with all his siblings learning to drive, they worry no more.
George had his own small car, the same with Grayson, and Hector and Samantha shared one. But because they all had their own/shared cars, each car was cheap and horrible in their own way, aka hand me downs from relatives or really close family friends.
But still, it was like going through war each and every day for a good spot in the van.
It often worked like this, Hector usually drove Brian and his siblings to school. Because Brian knew from a young, young age that his brothers will never let him have the front, he knows he's squeezed into the corner because he was the runt… sigh.
Normally, Vitaly would take the front, Clinton and Gordon and Samantha would take the back seat, and the twins and Brian are shoved into the trunk seats. But still, the fact of getting everyone into the actual van was a different story all together.
Brian nearly missed a step and fell down the staircase with how fast he'd been getting himself down those stairs. He raced past the kitchen, ignoring Gordon and Clinton both shoving things into their backpacks hurriedly.
Brian thankfully packed all his stuff the day before; he mentally applauded himself.
After racing downstairs and grabbing and thanking George for his share of money for lunch, he ran his skinny arse into that van because they all knew Hector; if you weren't in that automobile, you were walking to school. The only exception was the kids and Antha.
He bum rushed himself out the door and grabbed the door to the back seat, seeing the twins waiting in the back seats and Samantha standing outside the car waiting for him to climb in so she could get in as well. He pushed the back of the seat forward and flexed himself into the back.
After everyone was in, the van began moving. And of course, the arguments began. The twins started fighting (of course Brian was required to sit in the middle each drive to help prevent this) and Brian was blamed and scolded when he couldn't stop Sam from hitting Sandy. Gordon and Clinton were chatting loudly and Antha joining in to be nice. He could make out through the mirror that Vitaly was checking his face vigorously. And poor, poor Hector was preventing a headache similar to Brian's by plugging his headphones into his phone to blast his rock music.
Just your average day with nine siblings.
A/N:
Sooo, how'd I do? R&R Please! Reviews is writer candy! And motivation to continue!
