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mothwingwritings · 3 years

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In The Dead Of Night

Fem!ReaderXYujiro Hanma

Well... Here certainly is something.

First and foremost I want to say if you are someone upset by or triggered by stepcest PLEASE do not read this story. Though Yujiro was basically not in your life, he is still considered your step father in this fic and will be a huge creep about it. Also 18+ only p l e a s e. There is no explicit sex, but I still would not want any younger readers to partake in this. So this is your heads up!!!

Warnings: Abuse, gas lighting, humiliation, violence, heavy noncon elements, language, misogyny, stepcest, yandere themes, gross pet names, stalking, use of the term daddy to be an asshole. You know. Just Yujiro being Yujiro. :D

I blame this entirely on binging so many peoples brilliant Baki/reader insert family head canons smh. I also just really wanted to try writing something for Yujiro. He’s such a fucked up, interesting character with so many facets… I hate and love him in equal measure. I hope I at least did a little justice trying to write for him. There is probably quite a bit of OOC elements in this but I always do my best to keep everyone in character while also squeezing you in there and making you the star. :3

I hope you all enjoy~~~

The smile that graced you lips had not left your face all day.

In fact, it only grew as you thought back on how your day played out. The weather was nice, you were off work, and you had spent the entirety of it with friends and family doing some much needed catching up and hanging out after a stressful week. It was particularly nice because the family in question was your younger brother Baki, who you hadn’t been able to spend time with recently due to some life event or another. You were having such an enjoyable time you hadn’t even realized that night switched to the wee hours of the morning.

With how late it had become, Baki had offered to walk you home. You declined, not wanting to impede on his alone time with Kozue (you had been with them literally all day, after all). Your trip home was a pretty straight shot in a nice neighborhood, so you trekked your tired body back to your apartment by your lonesome, fantasizing about the warm embrace of your bed the entire way.

You had no reason to be on alert as you entered you unlit apartment. The entire neighborhood was quiet, it was some ungodly hour, and you lived by yourself, so it was natural to have only the darkness greet you as you slipped inside. Now nestled in the safety of familiar walls, a yawn withdrew from your lips and you stretched a bit, providing your worn body with brief relief. You swung the door closed, bolting it tightly behind you.

“Isn’t it a little late to be slinking back home?”

Previous grogginess out the door, you jerked to attention at the voice wafting from within the bowels of your supposed-to-be-empty home. You tensed as it registered in your brain, goosebumps littering your flesh at the familiarly arrogant tone. All warmth drained from your body, a paralyzing cold taking its place as you clutched your chest. Your heart began pounding so violently you felt holding it was the only way to keep it from bursting out of your ribcage.

What was he doing here?

“How’s my (name) tonight? Or maybe at this point I should say morning.”

Doing your best to quell your rampant nerves, you flipped the light switch. Slowly, you turned your head until your eyes fell upon the massive form of Yujiro Hanma, your estranged step father. He was lounging on your sofa with his feet kicked up on the coffee table before him, arms tucked behind his head. A smug expression was plastered on his face, relaying how completely at ease he felt being an intruder in your modest apartment. Now that the scenery was fully illuminated, you could also see that the sliding door leading out to the back porch was ajar. The locking mechanism (which you noted had been entirely devastated) was kicked over to the side, forgotten beneath a bookshelf. The warm summer air wafting in caused your light pink curtains to sway dramatically behind Yujiro, the delicate fabric seeming to dance in his aura. The idea played in your head that it almost looked like he was wearing some kind of cape, like a superhero who had showed up to save the day.

You internally scoffed. As if the man before you could ever be seen as heroic.

A condescending smile spread across his face as he took you in, eyes flicking up and down the length of your body in a quick once over. You shuddered at the gleam in his eye, ascertaining he was pleased by the stunned reaction you gave to his surprise visit.

A heavy frown engulfed your face as you moved yourself behind the counter that separated the living area from your tiny kitchen. You wanted to keep at least part of yourself somewhat shielded from his hulking form and judging glare, even if it was more a mental thing on your end. You were well aware that no apartment furniture could stand up to this man’s strength if he decided to come at you for any reason, and he wouldn’t hesitate in the slightest destroying something (or someone) if it got him to what he wanted. His eyes shimmered as he watched you relocate, amused expression lighting on his face. He was probably thinking the same thoughts you were.

You sighed in growing frustration at the ‘family reunion’ situation you were now faced with. If there was one thing you knew Yujiro loved (hell, maybe it was the ONLY thing he loved) it was reminding people how inferior to him they were. He thrived on flaunting his power, his status, and his stature. You would shut the fuck up around Yujiro and do as you were told, or you were put in your place. He was in control and was to be deferred to always.

You were given no leniency to this, even if you were his ‘daughter’.

“I asked you a question. You should answer your father when he speaks to you.”

You grit your teeth, doing your best to mask your disdain of the man in front of you. You didn’t want to acknowledge Yujiro at all, let alone as a father figure. As far as you were concerned, he just unfortunately happened to be who your mother was romantically linked to when you were still an infant, your actual father fleeing the scene before he could even meet you. As such, your mother dubbed Yujiro your ‘father’, and was adamant through the first years of your life that you treated him as such. However you didn’t share his blood, and in your humble opinion, he sure as hell didn’t raise you. You owed this man nothing. But that did not change the fact that now that he was here interaction was unavoidable. You took a deep breath before speaking to him, hoping to sound much braver then you felt.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

You noticed the slight falter in his smirk and couldn’t help but feel pleased. A small victory, but anything that got under his skin was a victory nonetheless.

“Does a father need a reason to come visit his daughter?” He responded nonchalantly, his head lulling slightly to the side as he spoke.

You huffed, “Don’t ask that like swinging by at 3am unannounced, entering by breaking in through my back door, which by the way is three stories off the ground, and then lounging in complete darkness until I show up is normal ‘father visiting his daughter’ behavior.”

Yujiro snorted, “Would you have rather I tore off your front door, then?”

“I would rather you leave me alone entirely.”

Yujiro shot you a malicious warning glare, causing any further words to die in your constricting throat. You hated him with every fiber of your being, but hated that you always had to concede yourself to him as a self-preservation tactic even more. This man could end your entire existence in less than a blink of an eye, and you didn’t doubt that if you pissed him off or annoyed him enough that he would do just that. Or at the very least, fuck you up so much you were kept alive by machinery in a hospital for the rest of your life.

After all, wasn’t that the fate he gave your mother?

“I suppose this would be the expected outcome,” he spoke, his demeanor reverting to indifference, “It’s been… how many years?”

“Nine years.” You wanted to add ‘of peace and tranquility without you interacting with me’, but thought better of it. It had been even longer since you had had any meaningful interaction with him. Thinking back on it, you mainly only had to deal with his presence at tournaments and fights that Baki or Jack happened to be taking part in, and in that environment, Yujiro was always preoccupied and easy to avoid.

He grunted, “That long, huh? I guess I can see why you are a little pissed.”

You stared at him, unsure of how to handle the comment. Did he think that you had missed him? That you were in some way sad your life had been vacant of him for almost a decade? Or was he actually aware that his appearance was completely unwanted? Regardless, it made you feel even more weirded out then you had felt previously. It was almost as if he was trying to be understanding, or maybe even kind to you.

Yujiro leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. His probing gaze never wavered from your body, which made you grimace. God, you hated when he stared at you like that.

“You’ve grown.”

“Yeah, that happens with the passage of time,” you retorted, fidgeting with a wrapper you had neglected to toss in the trash in your hurry to leave the house this morning. He hummed contemplatively. He must have found your little snip at him entertaining.

“Come closer, I want to get a better look at you.”

Every part of your body screamed no. You wanted to look him right in the eyes, tell him to fuck off, get out of your apartment and never come back… But you disregarded those fleeting rebellious thoughts. Obeying his order, you carefully made your way to where Yujiro sat. You cursed your wobbling legs as you stretched out your arm out, fingers barely grazing the living room wall beside you. You were hopeful that if you did falter you could at least try and steady yourself to some degree instead of falling flat on your ass and having to listen to Yujiro chide you on being so weak you can’t even handle walking normally.

As you approached, you gave yourself a few feet of leeway, wanting to retain some form of personal space between you and the source of your unease. Fighting to stay composed, his eyes continued scouring your form, honing in on every move you were making. It made it that much harder to not to flee from the damn apartment yourself, shaky legs and all. In the few minutes he had been there, he had successfully reduced you to feeling like a piece of meat being appraised by a butcher, the scrutiny of his glare scorching your skin.

Being this close to him after such a long time was starting to take a toll on you. Sweat formed on your brow, your body quivering with anxiety at the heavy silence between you. Even with the space you had graced yourself, this man was far too close for comfort. At this range you could smell that he was wearing cologne, its scent overpowering and masculine. Knowing Yujiro’s insistence of having the finer things in life, you were positive it was also obscenely expensive, one bottle probably equating to one or two months of your rent. You found it a bit odd, your brain pulling up scattered memories from when you were very small that he only reserved cologne for special occasions, not break ins. Then again, for a man like Yujiro, maybe something like this did count as a special occasion. Regardless, it was something he had been wearing for years and you would always remember it, some of your earliest memories and fears being marked indelibly by its musky fragrance. You remembered him mentioning that it was a one of a kind scent made exclusively for him. No one else in the world had anything even close to it.

What an insufferable asshole.

After what felt like a century, Yujiro’s examination concluded. He leaned back on your couch, fishing in his pocket before he withdrew cigarettes and a lighter. You cringed as he carelessly lit up, wrinkling your nose as he puffed out the nicotine cloud with a smirk. You could feel the stench tickling the back of your throat as he spoke.

“The little girl has grown into a woman.”

“Yeah…” You responded absent mindedly, eyes watching as cigarette smoke formed a thin cloud around Yujiro’s head. The smoke started to snake your way, making you cough a bit into your shoulder. You were hoping Yujiro would pick up on the hint that you didn’t want your home smelling like an ashtray, but as several seconds passed and he did little more than quirk an eyebrow quizzically your way, you sighed.

“Can you please put that out,” you asked, hands clenched at your side, “I hate the way it smells.”

He remained still for a moment before he surprisingly squashed the lit end of his cigarette on the bottom of his shoe. He stuffed the rest of it back in its case, blowing the remainder of the smoke off to the side.

“I won’t do it with you around, didn’t know it bothered you.”

Your brows knitted in frustration. There he goes pretending to give a damn again. You sighed to yourself. Was he toying with you? Being around him was enough of a headache without all the mental gymnastics.

Yujiro threw his arm along the back of your couch. His eyes searched your apartment, taking it all in for the first time in good lighting. You watched with pursed lips as he reached over, picking up decorative figurine of a lion you had on your side table. It was a silly thing, not worth much, something you had picked up randomly while out with friends for the sole purpose of looking cute on a shelf. But regardless of its lack of sentimental value, seeing it Yujiro’s hands made you feel agitated. The fact he felt he could break in and handle your personal items as if you were close, as if it were all allowed and you had invited him to do so, made you want to scream.

“Where were you this late at night,” he questioned, turning the lion this way and that in his grasp, “Coming back from a romp at a boyfriends place?”

A blush illuminated your face at the insinuation.

“O-of course not! Why would you even ask that?” You cursed how flustered the question had made you.

Yujiro frowned in a way that you could only describe as ‘disappointed.’ Disappointed over the fact that you were telling the truth, or disappointed because he believed you were lying, you couldn’t say. He tilted his head back, staring down the length of his nose at you before continuing.

“You’re getting awful embarrassed over a simple question,” he murmured, “Not sure I can believe those words when you have such a love struck look on your face. Was he that good?”

Your blush deepened at his crude insinuations, and you were finding it increasingly hard to keep eye contact while he grilled you. Desperate to get off the topic, you weren’t giving much thought to the sentence that tumbled from your lips. “Not that it’s any of your business where I was, but I was at Baki’s-“

You stopped yourself short, breath hitching in your throat as soon as your brother’s name passed your lips. You mentally chastised yourself for going against one of your personal life rules. You had made it a point not to talk about Yujiro with your brothers, and you certainly didn’t want to talk about your brothers with Yujiro.

It was hard to put into words the importance Baki and Jack played in your life. Years ago, when you were still very young, Baki had reached out to you unexpectedly at a time you needed it the most. It had been a few years since the assault on your mother, but you were far from being recovered from it. Left with no immediate family to care for you (and with Yujiro off doing god knows what) you were caught in a cruel cycle of being bounced from foster home to foster home. Some of the homes were better than others, but it was incessantly obvious that with every door you stepped through, every bed you slept on, and every table you sat at, none of these places were your home, and they never would be. You were an outsider who never stayed long enough to truly bond with anyone. Like a ghost, you floated from house to house, lonely, heartbroken, and invisible. Baki’s letter was the first time you had ever received anything in the mail at all, let alone a personal message. His correspondence was what you always considered your first true step in getting better and moving forward.

You’ll never forget the moment your care giver handed you the small and crumpled envelope, a child’s hectic chicken scratch so barely discernable you were shocked the postman was able to decipher it to begin with. Emotions flooded you as your eyes trailed the words Baki had written, feeling for the first time since your mother had been hospitalized that you were not alone. You now had someone you could call your little brother, a family member who cared enough to seek you out and say ‘I’m sorry’ for what had happened to you. You had never previously received any form of apology for Yujiro’s actions. It was unfortunate that it had to come from one of his other, younger than you, children and not the man himself.

From that moment forward you and Baki were as thick as thieves.

You met Jack years later after you had established your strong bond with Baki. You had been interested in other potential siblings after Baki messaged you, but everyone you were able to hunt down either quickly declined your chance at a relationship, or didn’t respond at all. You had heard Baki mention Jack here and there and figured if you had a chance getting to close to anyone else in the family, it would be him.

Your relationship with Jack definitely did not start off as warm and inviting as it had with Baki. When you first saw the man, you instantly understood Baki’s reluctance at having you meet him. Jack was massive, intimidating, and not overly keen on people who could be linked in any manner to Yujiro. But he gave you a chance, and for that you were thankful. With time and patience your bond with Jack had blossomed into something incredibly strong. He would check in with you frequently, and was always open to vent or gush about whatever was going on in your life, no matter how inconsequential it may seem.

You loved them fiercely, and they returned that love. They protected you, and though you couldn’t compete in terms of strength, you made a vow to protect them in any way you could, even if that did just boil down to not spilling dirt about their personal affairs to the Ogre.

“Baki’s huh,” Yujiro responded, “If I recall correctly, you do usually come to watch his fights. I guess I should be happy you two are close.”

You frowned, “I don’t want to talk about Baki.”

Yujiro sighed, “Fine by me. I didn’t come here to talk about him anyway.”

You let out a relieved breath, happy he didn’t push the matter further. But with the growing concern that Yujiro may be using you to gain insight into your brother’s lives now out the window, it left an even bigger mystery in its wake.

“Why did you come here?”

Yujiro frowned, “Are you an idiot? I already told you I came here to see you. I wanted to check in.”

You scoffed at his reply. Again with the ‘duh this is totally natural’ mindset.

“Yeah well, I’m here and I am alive. Is that good enough for you? It’s late, I am tired, and I wasn’t prepared to play hostess right now.”

“I can tell. You’re doing a piss poor job of it,” he leered, “What kind of woman doesn’t offer the man in her presence some kind of drink or food when he comes into her home? A little hospitality can go a long way, sweetheart.”

You cringed at his flippant comment, taking a moment to collect yourself before responding. He was trying to rile you up, this was fun to him. You had to keep yourself in check.

“Fine,” you were doing your best to not sound overly agitated, hopeful that if you played along, you could get him out of your home that much quicker. “Can I get you something to drink? I have to warn you, I don’t have anything fancy or alcoholic.”

“Just bring me whatever’s cold.”

With a small groan, you went to your fridge and grabbed the closest cold drink you could find, some kind of juice you had gotten on a clearance sale.

“Do you want ice?” You asked over your shoulder.

Yujiro smirked, “There we go. Now you are getting the hang of how to treat guests.”

You gripped the juice tighter, biting your lip to hold back your frustrations. You scowled as he chuckled at your reaction.

“And no ice, just toss it here.”

You did as you were told, fighting the urge to lop the bottle as hard as you could at his face.

You made your way back towards him as he proceeded to drain the beverage. You parked yourself uneasily in front of him, shifting your weight between your legs, not entirely sure how to proceed. You were at the point of exhaustion, but also hyper aware of every move Yujiro was making. Your mind raced with scenarios of anything and everything that could happen in the time he was in your presence. How should you react if he approaches you? What should you do if he refuses to leave? It’s not like you can call the police.

“Sit,” he commanded, drawing you from your thoughts. You saw him shift his body, making it evident he expected you to plop down next to him.

“I’m fine standing.” You replied curtly.

He shrugged, “Guess you aren’t all that tired then. Suit yourself.”

More time passed in silence. Seconds dragged to minutes and you were desperate for any good excuse to get this man out of your home. Would he go if you told him you had an important meeting tomorrow? That you promised you would help a friend? You had an early doctor’s appointment? You exhaled in defeat, knowing he either wouldn’t care, or all those options would just be opening up more routes of uncomfortable questioning.

“(Name),” His voice snapped you to attention, your eyes meeting his.

“Yes?”

“You are an adult woman now. You may not have my blood, but you share my name,” He gave you an appraising once over, sending a shiver down your spine, “and you are beautiful. You’ve filled out nicely in the all right places. You are bound to have caught someone’s attentions, and you reactions earlier when I brought a man up weren’t subtle. So who is it?”

A moment passed while you considered his words. Why was he stuck on this? Does he really care, of all things, if you are dating someone?

“Are you… Are you seriously asking me if I am seeing someone, romantically?”

He nodded, piercing eyes holding your gaze in a vice grip. “Why would I ask if I didn’t care about the answer?”

You frowned, “I really don’t see how that is any of your concern.”

Yujiro’s expression instantly soured, his body radiating distaste at your defiance. “Oh? It seems to me like you are trying to hide something. You know, coming back from Baki’s house sure would be a convenient excuse to try and mask a late night rendezvous. That is unless Baki is the one you were getting off with?”

You winced, disgusted at the implication, “Why would you even say that?”

Regardless of his vulgarities, Yujiro’s expression remained neutral, “Brother is just what you call him, but you aren’t actually related. If you were truly at his place so late, what else would you lead me to believe?”

“I don’t really care what you believe,” you muttered softly, “I wouldn’t do anything like that with Baki, regardless of what you think. But I also shouldn’t have to explain myself to you. I am a self-sufficient adult. My life and who I spend it with is my own business.”

“You will answer my question,” his voice grew deeper, an edge to it now that unnerved you. Maybe your back talk had finally gone from an amusement to an irritant? You steeled yourself before continuing.

“I’m done talking about this. If you came here just to drill me about personal things, you can leave. I have nothing to say to you.”

You barely had a chance to finish when Yujiro slammed the empty juice bottle on the small table before him, the sudden crash causing your body to jolt. Yujiro’s relaxed posture had grown rigid, serious. His aura was always overpowering, but it was snaking around you so thickly now you were beginning to have trouble breathing.

“Who you are fucking IS my business,” he growled, “Like it or not, you became a part of the Hanma family and will one day produce an offspring. Any child you end up bearing will reflect on me, so I’ll be damned if some whiny piece of shit knocks you up with a useless brat. I’m not going to have a goddamn nobody ruin my name.”

Your jaw went slack, stunned by the words that came from his mouth. It took you a moment for it all to sink in, and as it did, a white hot anger began to overtake you. Childhood memories you locked away in the farthest reaches of your brain avalanched through, and you began recalling vividly the moment you walked in on your mother crumpled on the floor. You’ll never forget the stark contrast of the blood on her skin as it seeped from her open mouth, Yujiro above her wild in his fury. Her eyes were blank and glossy, and you couldn’t tell if she was alive or dead. So caught up in his brutality, he only became aware of your presence when a scream tore from your throat, begging him to stop. How could you ever forget how he looked as he stalked towards you, his eyes red and animalistic as they bore down on your tiny quaking body?

When you finally could control your limbs enough to flee, you made the attempt to run and get help. Yujiro was exponentially faster, slamming his fist into you with a ferocity you never hope to encounter again. It was so intense it knocked you out on contact, which was probably for the best, as the impact of your body hitting the far wall shattered your arm and broke a few ribs. When you came to hours later you were by yourself in a hospital bed, body littered with bruises and a thick cast engulfing your battered limb. A doctor came in not much later to give you the news on your mother. It was hard for you to understand with how young you were, but that didn’t stop his nasally voice droning on that she was alive, but in a coma with no brain activity.

The doctor left after he had said his piece, and it was at that moment that you realized how truly alone you were. The only other family you knew at the time was your step father, but he… he was the man who did this to begin with. Yujiro, the person you feared the most. The beast of a man who flitted in and out of your life in such irregular intervals it was shocking you even knew who he was at all, let alone considered him any manner of family. Yes, the ‘father’ you barely knew, yet in some sick twisted way still craved love and acceptance from. He was the one who had shattered your life.

He never explained himself, never apologized, and never visited. Why did mom constantly tell you that you were supposed to care for him? Why was it that you had to love him? What was the point of his acceptance?

If you had loved him, would he still have done this?

No, you decided there was no point. There was absolutely no reason as to why you were alone in this room, scared and in pain. There was no reason why your mother’s life had to be cut short, spending the rest of her days a shell of herself dwindling away in a secluded hospital room. What had she said to set him off? Had she mentioned she wished he would come around more? Did she bring up that she wished he played a more active role in her daughter’s life? Tears fell freely from your eyes, staining the thin hospital grown you wore. To receive this fate over something so little, it was all so fucking pointless.

In the days following the assault, police stopped by the hospital to question what had happed and gather info over who had done this to the two of you. With you being the only lucid survivor, all interviews fell on you. Each time they asked the answer was always the same. It was Yujiro Hanma. It was Yujiro Hanma. It was Yujiro fucking Hanma. Yes you were sure, no you were not mistaken. You knew the person who hurt your mom, you knew the person who hurt YOU! It was YUJIRO HANMA, couldn’t they hear you?!

It didn’t take long for the police to stop coming by. You had learned later since you were a child at the time and obviously deeply disturbed over what had happened to you, none of what you were saying was permissible in court. Whether that was the whole truth, or just some bullshit excuse they pulled out of their asses to avoid having to go after Yujiro, didn’t fully matter to you. No justice would ever be served, and Yujiro would just keep doing whatever the hell he wanted.

With this understanding, it was then that you truly learned the depths of your hatred.

“I’m not fucking breeding stock for your fucked up bloodline,” you seethed, “You break into my house unannounced at some obscene hour in the morning, lounge on my fucking sofa like you own the place, and then regardless of the fact that it’s been nearly a decade since we interacted, you start interrogating me over who I’m sleeping with?”

You took a step forward, anger clouding your judgement, “And family? You have the nerve to bring up FAMILY? Well since you are suddenly so interested, how about you ask about my mom? You remember her, right? The one you left to rot in a hospital bed after beating the shit out of her? Or what about Jack, or Baki, or god knows how many other fucking spawn you have brought to this earth and abandoned? Maybe if you had an ounce of human compassion within you, you could focus some fatherly attention on the children you’ve already fucked over and work to be a better person for them before complaining about some hypothetical baby that doesn’t exist!”

An uneasy silence fell over the room as you concluded you tirade, making you to instantly regret the outburst. You averted your eyes to avoid his irate expression, his entire presence now thrumming with intense agitation. You wanted to trick your mind anyway you could to make it feel as if he wasn’t pinning your body down with his gaze, the weight of his displeasure slowly crushing you. You breathed deeply as the adrenaline from your speech started to seep away, leaving you feeling hollow and frightened.

Moments passed, and Yujiro released his breath. Your body tensed when you heard him shift, your attentions turning his way once more.

“Is that what you want,” Yujiro’s voice was menacingly calm as he pulled himself up to his full height, towering before you in all his glory. “Attention?”

You froze to the spot, fear ravaging you as your wide eyes drank in the man before you. The air had become heavy, toxic, suffocating. It took every ounce of courage you had left to still be standing before him, let alone staring into his savage eyes. You could feel yourself trembling, your body jolting back a step with one he took forward. For as terrified as you were, you were also disappointed in yourself. Where had your previous vibrato gone? Such big words, and you couldn’t even stand your ground right now?

“N-no,” your voice wavered, “I won’t say it again, I want you to leave. Please.”’

Yujiro laughed, but there was no joy behind the noise.

“You think you can speak that way to me and get away with it by cowering behind a fucking please?”

He was on you in an instant, his thick, calloused hand constricting your neck as he slammed you into the wall beside you. The air was knocked out of you upon collision, your vision darkening as you frantically thrashed in his hold, desperate to get away. You gasped as he reared back, smacking you once more into the wall, effectively halting your struggle. You dangled limply in his hand, body pulsing in pain, fighting to breathe. The sound of glass shattering drew your attention to the floor. Glancing down you noted the force of your body hitting the wall caused some hanging portraits to fall, littering the area in splintered frames and jagged glass. Your mothers smiling face stared up at you through the wreckage, baby you nestled in her loving embrace. A tear slipped down your cheek when Yurjiro moved his foot, crushing the image entirely beneath his foot.

What a cruel thing to see in what you were sure would be the final moments of your life.

“You better cut the shit with me little girl,” his voice boomed down at you, reminiscent of a wrathful god you had pissed off, “If you won’t answer one easy question, I’ll figure out the answer myself.”

Before you could even question what that meant, his free hand latched on to the front of your shirt. With a forceful tug he ripped it from your body, leaving a torn mass of fabric dangling from his fist. Horrified, you made an attempt to cover yourself, shuddering when your exposed flesh brushed against your captor. Yujiro’s discarded the remnants of your shirt and seized your arm, dragging it back down to your side as he gave your neck a warning squeeze.

“If you aren’t a whore then you have nothing to hide,” he snarled, “Now take your pants off or I’ll do it for you.”

He released you, but made no move to step back. You felt insignificant as he glowered down at your hunched over form, his body so close you could feel the heat radiating from his skin. Hot tears of indignation threatened to spill down your face, your whole body burning in shame as you hesitantly followed his command.

As soon as your pants had flooded to the floor around your feet, Yujiro made a grunt of approval. He finally took a step back, giving you some semblance of personal space. A deep shuddering breath wracked your body. You wanted desperately to cover yourself, but his oppressive presence pinned you to the spot. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, see what kind of expression he wore on his face as he sized you up, half naked and trembling before him.

“Stop cowering like that,” he barked at you, “At least have the backbone to look at me. It’s your damn fault you are in this mess to begin with. If you would have just answered my question like a good girl, I wouldn’t have had to get rough.”

He sighed, irritation his voice, “Besides this isn’t anything I haven’t seen before.”

Your head snapped his way, deeply unsettled by the knowing smile you saw playing on his lips.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” You asked, drawing yourself up.

“You leave your widow wide open when you change,” he responded, devilish smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, “Maybe you should be more careful of that in the future. I have never seen that lingerie set you have on before, though. Seems overly sexy for something you’d wear to a sibling’s house.”

“You’ve been watching me in my apartment?”

“And you should thank me for that. I’m a busy man, it’s an honor that I would check in with someone as pathetic as you at all,” he laughed, domineering and loud, “but I suppose that’s a father’s duty, to watch over his baby girl, right?”

An intense wave of embarrassment hit you as his words registered. For god knows how long, Yujiro knew where you lived. He could have come in and done anything he wanted, at any time. And on top of that he had been watching you in your most private moments and you were none the wiser. Just how much had he seen?

Yujiro took a step towards you. Seizing your arm, he began to spin you around. The motion caught you off guard as he turned you this way and that, his movements so erratic and forceful it was hard to keep balance. He bent down as he did so, eyes roaming you in your entirety as you struggled to gain some manner of control back over your own body. Your legs did their best to keep up with your disordered twirling, and you felt as if you were part of a sick dance, a show you were forced to put on exclusively for Yujiro’s enjoyment. Just as you were about to vocalize your displeasure, he dropped you, causing your body to lurch forward without his support.

He moved to grip your chin, holding it steady in a tight pinch. Forcing your eyes to bore into his own, he hummed as he moved your head side to side slowly, gaze shifting to your exposed neck.

“What the fuck are you doing,” You mumbled through clenched teeth, “Let me go.”

“Shut up,” he snarled, fierce eyes shooting you a cautionary glare, “You open your mouth again and you’ll regret it.”

He resumed his examination. Pulling you closer, you placed your hands on his chest in an attempt to stop him from closing the gap. Yujiro frowned at the act of resistance, batting your arms away as if they were pesky insects. “Quit moving or I’ll knock you out,” he threatened, jerking you to accentuate his words, “Maybe I just should have done that from the get go, would have made this a lot less annoying.”

“Just stop it,” You finally spat, tears now freely snaking down your cheeks, “You won, OK? You’ve already hurt me, belittled me, embarrassed me, and controlled me, what else is there to do? I have no idea why you are here or what the point of any of this is, but right now I don’t care. If you hate me so much then just leave me alone! I don’t have to be a part of your life and I never wanted you as a part of mine. I’ll never bother you again, so-”

Your words were cut short as Yujiro’s lips crashed into you. Upon feeling your skin connect, your mind started whirring with confusion. You were grasping at straws trying to make sense of what was going on as he moved, dragging your body in so that it was flush against his own. Your wide blown eyes locked on his and a shudder passed through you as you felt his hand wrap around the nape of your neck, firmly pressing against you so that your lips remained planted to his with no chance of escape. His half lidded gaze burned into you, something smoldering in it that you didn’t want to dwell on. When you made no move to shove him off, Yujiro smiled against you. In your haze you felt something warm and wet glide along your lower lip. With dawning horror you realized that it was his tongue playfully trying to seek entrance to your clamped mouth.

Your body turned to ice. You whimpered in distress. The whole time he was here, the invasive questions, the intense stares, even the forced stripping, you figured it was all part of some act to demean and scare you, a sick way of blowing off steam he could laugh about later. This was the first time it occurred to you that maybe you were wrong. Maybe he wanted something else entirely from you.

You weren’t sure how much time passed before he pulled away. Still too stunned to move, you didn’t flinch as he again proceeded to pivot your head once more to the side, lowering his face to the exposed skin of your neck. A shiver ran down your spine when you heard him inhale, his lips ghosting your flesh as he took you in.

“You talk too fucking much,” his voice was low and guttural, the words he spoke reverberating off your flesh. “But you have no marks from a man on your body, nor do you smell like you have been close to one. When I kissed you, you froze like statue. Any woman with any experience would have had some kind of reaction.”

He gave a throaty laugh, his hand trailing down the length of your back as he did so. His palm came to a rest on your ass, and you fought back a sob as he proceeded to fondle you, a sound akin to a purr rumbling from his chest as he did so. This lasted only a few seconds, ending abruptly when with a quick flick of his wrist, he spanked you. What may have been a light tap to Yujiro caused a searing pain to blossom across you your backside. You hissed at the sensation.

“I guess I had nothing to be concerned about, but you should watch yourself (name). Innocence can drive a man to do terrible things.”

He placed his hand once more behind your head and yanked you forward. He grinned in approval as his lips met your forehead in a chaste kiss, “You are an easy target for predators, sweetheart. You’re lucky your daddy is so strong or else you would really be in trouble.”

You wanted to vomit. You wanted to scream. You wanted to run in the bathroom and scrub and scrub and scrub where he touched you, where he fucking kissed you until you felt even somewhat clean. You wanted to do so many things, but your body had reached its limit. Defeated, you remained stilled in his grasp.

He stood to his full height again, shoving you off as he did so.

“You could have saved yourself a lot of trouble if you just told me there was no one from the start, but at least you got some of the attention you’ve been craving, right?”

He chuckled, turning his back to you as he made his way over to your sofa. In a fluid motion, he ripped the throw that had been draped over the back of it and tossed it your way. You barely caught it, but as soon as it hit your hands you moved to encase yourself inside of it, snuggly wrapping it against your body. You shrunk into its warmth, seeking solace in the tiny amount of protection the blanket offered.

Yujiro huffed, and started to walk your way again. Your brain screamed at you to move, but in the state you were in, all you could do was pull the blanket even tighter around you. He took his time sauntering by you, and as he passed you let out a shaky breath. Relief flooded you when you turned your head and saw he had made it to your front door, his hand wrapped around the knob.

“I’m leaving,” he called over his shoulder as he swung your front door open, an unnecessary amount of force causing it to creak on its hinges, “Clean yourself up and get some sleep. It’s not a bad place you’ve got here, but the walls seem a little thin. Next time I see you, it would be nice to have a little more privacy so we can have a true heart to heart.”

You couldn’t begin to articulate the joy you felt at the prospect of him leaving, totally blissed out as you saw the end of his harassment in sight. So much so that you couldn’t even process his words or the implications they held for your future. The heaviness that had consumed you began to dissipate once he stepped through the door, your apartment once again feeling like your space instead of a torture chamber. You were out of the woods. You were safe.

Yujiro paused and your heart sank as he turned back around, leaning a bit so that he could see you through the door. The street lights outside gave his silhouette an ominous glow, but what truly frightened you was the fierce red hue of his eyes as they bore into you, nefarious smile consuming his entire face to match. Your breathing grew erratic at the sight of him like this, but you stayed glued to your spot, scared that even the smallest move would be an invitation for him to make his way back to you.

“(Name), It was nice catching up with you tonight,” his voice was almost sing song in its mockery, his horrible smile growing as started to back away.

“I’m glad to see you are still daddy’s little girl.”

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intermundia · 2 years

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how much do you think obi-wan loves anakin and vice versa? i know they would die for each other, no doubt, but how deep do you think their love runs? do you think one loves the other more?

How does one measure love? There are many definitions of it, many proofs of it. Dying for each other, yes, but they would both also risk death for so many others. It was war after all, and they were both Jedi. The best proxy I can think of to track and evaluate love is attention, considering the question, who does one think about with positive concern?

It's my opinion that, while they both loved each other a great deal, Obi-Wan loved Anakin more. The imbalance makes sense when considering their history together: Obi-Wan, age 25, was suddenly the authority figure for a Padawan. He had an entire person in his charge, someone whose future success depended on his instruction and example. His entire life basically circled around Anakin to some degree after that.

He spent the next decade worrying about Anakin, paying attention to him, caring about him and his well-being. He thought about how to give him skills he needed to succeed as a Jedi. He had other things to pay attention to for sure, he was a Knight, so he did spend time doing missions for the Order, but still, no matter where in the galaxy he was, Anakin was still to some degree his responsibility, and in his thoughts.

The war began, Anakin was Knighted, and they became brothers-in-arms and friends. They went on missions together as equals, and joked about sharing a Padawan. He also was aware that something about Anakin had changed, but he trusted and believed in him. Other than the Republic and the Jedi Order, Anakin was one the centers of his life. It became part of his identity to be Anakin Skywalker's best friend.

He loved Anakin in a way that caused him to be blind to his growing darkness. He was betrayed by him, and even then, he spent the rest of his life watching over his son. He violated the Code for him with excessive love. This is canon we're talking about here, so their relationship is not romantic, but it is very intense, closer that friends, closer than brothers. They think about each other too much.

Anakin loved Obi-Wan too, don't get me wrong. He thought about him plenty. He spent the first ten years after leaving his mother perpetually aware of his Master. He worried about his expectations and living up to them, he protected him, he compared himself to him. He appreciated his kindness, resented his sternness. He set up tests to make sure Obi-Wan cared.

The problem was that he grew close with the Chancellor and fell in love with Padmé, committed atrocities, and began to pull away from Obi-Wan. He thought about him, but not as much in a positive way. He blamed Obi-Wan for bad advice about his dreams. He resented Obi-Wan for lying to him, for choosing the Council over him, for not respecting his feelings. He spent his free time thinking about Padmé instead.

As Vader, he probably brooded a great deal over the man who put him in that suit, and wanted his capture. He thought about him, but not with love, but the inverse of it. Vader hated Obi-Wan. That hatred was born out of the love that he felt once, but I think it far surpassed that feeling in magnitude; he hated him for far longer than he loved him. Obi-Wan never hated Vader. Hatred was a place reached after fear and anger, and both of those things dissipated in time.

I think in the end, Obi-Wan separated Anakin and Vader in his mind, not only because of Yoda's suggestion that would make it easier to kill him for his crimes, but because he loved Anakin Skywalker so much. He kept him alive in his memory as his best self, holding him apart from who he became. He found a way to remember Anakin positively, because he wanted to. If attention is love, that's love.

#obi-wan kenobi #anakin skywalker #congrats anon you get stoned insomnia rambles #thanks for asking hahah #long post #sw

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tearsofgrace · 3 years

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endings are hard... but they aren’t impossible

tldr; the good place fucking nailed the finale, supernatural completely and utterly bombed it.

tags: wc--4.5k, gif heavy, spn meta, the good place, supernatural finale, spn wank, all gifs are mine, if you read til the end there’s a pretty gif

so i recently finished the good place (i was watching w my family and we finally had time to sit down and watch the last season) and god fucking dammit that ending is FLAWLESS. literally flawless.

and because i’m, well, me… i spent most of the time during that hour long finale thinking about how supernatural could have had even a fraction of that and avoided so much heartbreak.

anyways. i decided to compare them. to REALLY compare them. to get into the nitty gritty of why the fuck the good place ending left me feeling, as the finale is all about, sated and complete. and why the spn ending left me confused, lost, broken, betrayed, unable to even enjoy my comfort show at all until a dear friend finally just watched an episode (8.08) start to finish with me.

so without further ado (always wanted to say that) here’s the good place/supernatural finale meta that no one asked for

comedy

we’ll start small. both these shows have excellent comedy. in extremely different ways… but still

in the good place finale, the comedy was perfect. whether it was jason reappearing in the forest, michael trying to get through The Door, tahani reversing the “hot bod” bit on eleanor, every comedic moment was actually pretty emotional and added something to the show. they deepened characters’ meanings, added to their relationships, and made the audience think as much as they made the audience laugh.

in the spn finale… the comedy was the pie gag. the whole sam shoving pie into dean’s face. beyond this being… like meta as hell (the whole prank thing) it doesn’t have any depth to it.

and to add salt to the wound, this “hilarious” thing happens RIGHT AFTER salmondean have a conversation about missing jack and cas that is equal parts flat and infuriating. the brothers, in particular sam about jack and dean about cas, should care more. this is their family. and family is everything to them. but, no, by all means pie dean in the face.

last lines

this one IRKS me. okay.

the last line of the good place "I'll say this to you, my friend, with all the love in my heart and all the wisdom of the universe: Take it sleazy.” “All right.” is ICONIC. okay?

it’s a reference to season 1 that doesn’t feel fan-servicey. it’s kinda honestly emotional cuz it’s like a message to us, the audience. it perfectly completes michael’s arc. it captures the light-hearted vibe of the show while also somehow managing to be poignant. you can see it coming like the second before it happens but it’s also not the obvious choice. it’s just. goddamn it’s good.

the last line of supernatural…. is… “and cut.” not even said by one of j2. i mean i know it’s a meta show but COME ON ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME??????????

now i hear you shouting wait but that’s just the end of the thank you message. okay fine whatever. in that case the last lines are “Hey, Sammy.” “Dean.” (i couldn’t bring myself to gif that moment)

i’m sorry but. that’s predictable. that’s obvious. that’s boring. that’s flat. sure, it celebrates the bond between the brothers. but like… that’s not what this show is about anymore. it’s not just about sam and dean winchester it’s about what they’ve created. it’s about the world they’ve saved, the family they’ve made, about how they always keep fighting but nope we get bland, boring, coulda seen ‘em coming from miles away lines for the very end. that’s fine.

montages

the spn finale is like 50% montages that don’t make sense and are poorly done and not emotional

the good place has a montage of michael being human that brought me to tears

timing

here’s another short section. the good place finale was 53 minutes long as opposed to the usual 20 minute long runtime of every episode. granted, the fandom of the good place is very different, but STILL there was no documentary telling the fans things they ALREADY knew (there was a short special after the ep, but the episode itself was still far longer than normal). it was 53 minutes of plot. of really fucking good not rushed plot.

the supernatural finale was… what 36 minutes long?? as opposed to the normal 40 minute runtime?? granted, we did get an hour long documentary of things we’ve all heard in cons and interviews a billion times so hey. take what you can get i guess.

character arcs

this is most of the meat of this meta. one thing we’ve all been harping on a TON is how they RUINED character arcs. soooo let’s go through and juxtapose some character arcs shall we

eleanor

eleanor shellstrop starts the show completely self-obsessed. she died getting hit by shopping carts while picking up margarita mix and let’s be real she’s a total icon. love her to death. she grows a ton, becomes one of the most selfless characters on the show, and starts to actually (jack forbid) CARE about things. it’s one of the most satisfying and relatable character arcs i’ve ever seen.

it’s not just her selfishness either, her character is super multi-faceted and complex, and i feel like even in the end we’re getting to know her better. she’s afraid of commitment, always worried about what others’ actions will do to her, loves the trivial side of life, is queer as fuck (as acknowledged by the show in a way that’s not harmful at all but also isn’t explicitly bi/pan/unlabeled/omni etc, allowing queer fans to see their own identity in her), and is all around a HUMAN BEING. her ending at the beginning of the show was her death. her stupid, trivial, meaningless death where she was, as she puts it, all alone. and her final ending ISNT that. yes, everyone goes before her. and i think that’s purposeful. to show that she’s grown enough that being alone in some sense is okay.

but she’s never TRULY alone. and in the end. the REAL end. janet is there. the whole time. because eleanor asked her to be!! she got over her crazy need for independence and simply asked for help. and eleanor dies an amazing person that has become selfless, has found joy in philosophy while still enjoying trashy content, has fixed her relationship with her mother, and has found a sense of completion. eleanor’s life ends on her terms, and it’s beautiful.

dean

alright. now just as you’re feeling all warm and fuzzy let’s look at dean winchester’s ending. you’ve heard it a million times, so i’ll be brief. dean was raised to be a hunter, a soldier, a killing machine with no feelings and no purpose. he was raised to die scared on a hunt, his life over because of some mistake he made because he will NEVER measure up. at least that’s what john and everyone else told him with the exceptions of some of his family (and family don’t end in blood). he started to accept that he didn’t have to have this. he started to realize that he could CHOOSE what his ending was.

the beautiful thing is, we never truly got to see what that was. i personally like to think it’s similar to the roadhouse michael locked him in while he was trapped in his own mind. a safe place for hunters, somewhere he (and cas in my opinion, but that’s not important) could settle down and still be in the life. it would be an amazing tribute to jo and ellen, and just all around a great ending. he wouldn’t have to be scared, but he wouldn’t have to conform to some apple pie facade of normalcy. and ya know what?? say that he died so he could have peace i dare you. because dean doesn’t find peace until sam is there anyway so i beg of you WHAT WAS THE FUCKING POINT.

dean winchester died scared. dean winchester died on a hunt. dean winchester died on one of john’s old hunts. dean winchester died not directly at the hands of a monster, but at the hands of a mistake. his mistake. dean winchester died without ever working through the trauma of his best friend in the entire world confessing his love in a final act of self-sacrifice. dean winchester died in a way that leaves a sour taste in my mouth and does not at all show the audience what he’s been through and how much he’s grown. dean winchester did not die on his terms, and he deserved better.

chidi

okay back to happy. chidi anagonye. by far my personal favorite good place character (don’t tell anyone i always say jason cuz he and i are very similar). chidi in the last few episodes is SO DRASTICALLY different than the chidi we meet at the beginning. he’s decisive, confident, self-assured, and it’s amazing to see. he’s not afraid of life anymore. he’s not afraid to make the wrong decision and forever alter his reality, because he’s okay with failure.

at the beginning, chidi was so petrified of life that… it killed him. and in the end, he’s completely at peace with every decision he makes, even the final one. yes, he considered staying for eleanor, but that just shows how his moral code and his compassion for others is still very much still intact. it shows the audience that you can be confident and decisive without being a selfish asshole.

chidi leaves the good place knowing that it’s the right thing to do. knowing without a doubt that his time has come. the old chidi never would have been able to fathom being that sure about something. it’s beautiful. it’s a development that can give the audience peace, can show them that this drastic of change is possible, and that chidi became a better person for all of it. chidi went on his own terms, and it was beautiful.

sam

… this one might be controversial… but sam winchester. god i hated sam’s ending. at first i was kinda okay with it. like, okay fine he got his normal life. but, really, in the end that’s not what sam wanted. he started to realize that he didn’t need that apple pie, white picket fence life. he didn’t need the wife and the kids and the backyard and the barbecues because that is NOT sam’s personality and i will throw hands on that.

that’s not to say he doesn’t want some sort of romance, maybe even kids, but not in that way. he lets himself see that he doesn’t need to be defined by his rebellion to john. doesn’t need to be defined by going to college or any of those “normal” smart kid things because it doesn’t fit him. and that’s okay! but how does sam’s story end? it ends with a wife (that isn’t even important enough to show her face). with kids. with a goddamn white picket fence. we think he’s still hunting to some extent… but it’s not the arc we were led to believe would happen. it’s not this amazing leader sam that we see in season 12-14, uniting hunters and organizing them.

he had SO MUCH potential and they throw it away on a vanilla ending that shows only surface level pain at losing his brother. he doesn’t even invite the rest of their family to the wake for fuck’s sake. jared did an incredible job. pls don’t think i’m saying he didn’t. but that script…. sam winchester’s arc was cut short. he didn’t go on his terms, and he deserved better.

jason

jason mandoza. the only character that has ever embodied my complete dumbass energy to the insane extent that it exists. he went to hell for his impulsivity. he never thought before a decision. i aspire to be as reckless as jason while on earth. but he LEARNED. he got better, just like they all did. and by the end of the show, jason doesn’t need to be impulsive anymore. much like eleanor being left “alone,” the show does a masterful job with making him be the first one to go, capturing his old impulsiveness. but he chooses to leave. he takes his time in deliberation, waiting until a feeling of peace, of completion, of well, ‘true happiness’ (sorry cas stans, i’m right there with you) has settled over him.

the ending of his story is one of growth, just like all these characters have been. and the best part? the show makes it comedic in the most poignant and beautiful way, because it’s jason, it had to be funny. we learn that jason has been in the woods for like, eons, just waiting to go through the door because he wants to give janet a necklace. he’s learned to simply wait. to be at peace with… nothing. his torture was being a monk, but in the end, jason embodies those ideals. his arc comes to fruition in an extremely satisfying way. jason goes on his own terms, and it’s beautiful.

castiel

this one is gonna hurt like a bitch. castiel is my comfort character. he’s my role model. he’s me in a lot of ways. i love him. so fucking much. so excuse me if this is slightly incoherent. i’m actually okay with cas’ ending… in a way. because his actual ending as an on-screen character? perfect. self-sacrifice while coming out and professing his love to dean winchester. a little bit bury the gays, but let’s be real, it’s supernatural. and “happiness is in just saying it” has to be the most powerful way to think of coming out. it takes away the fear, it takes away so much of the pain that can follow. because the joy is in just saying the words.

it’s how this was treated on the show that makes cas’ character arc terrible (and we haven’t even gotten to 15.20). YOU CANNOT JUST IGNORE A LOVE CONFESSION. that is god awful writing and i will never change my mind on that. cas deserved his family to care about him. to at least address and be sad about the fact he was gone. jesus fucking christ after everything castiel deserved at least that. and then we go to 15.20. cas is in heaven. cas is serving god. cas is right back where he started. now, i’m coming off a little strong.

if the show had decided to show us cas and jack in heaven makin’ the world a better place… i woulda come around to it. i woulda realized that that’s not REALLY erasing 12 years of character development and cas realizing that his whole identity isn’t just him serving heaven and isn’t just him being an angel and that he’s so much more than all of that and he could still be happy as a human… because really he’s with his son. but they didn’t show us that. they barely even mentioned him. and to me. that counts as a bad character arc. and i’m sorry if you disagree. castiel may have gone on his own terms, but they treated that beautiful sacrifice with disrespect and disdain, plus resolved his arc by putting him back where he started. he deserved better.

tahani

*deep breaths guys this is a long post i’m sorry* anywayyyy tahani!!! we love tahani obviously. let’s talk about her arc, because it always kinda bothered me. throughout the show, we see all the other character’s growing and expanding their knowledge of right and wrong. and, don’t get me wrong. we see tahani grow a lot. but she makes a lot of the same types of comments and shit like that. but it’s how she treats the reactions to those comments. by the end of the show, she laughs at the caricature of herself that the others see. she isn’t looking for vindication in name-dropping, she just does it. she is far less self-absorbed, and is genuinely interested in those around her. she fixes her relationships with her sister and her parents in a way that doesn’t feel forced and actually feels like a beautiful, healthy family reunion.

she has a list and she does everything on it. it’s worth noting, that the things on her list are not at all what they would have been at the beginning of the show. most of them are humble “labor” type tasks, and all of them are in self improvement. tahani’s end on the show is not the same as everyone else’s. she realizes that she doesn’t need to be done. that there doesn’t have to be an end to self-improvement. and she becomes an architect. the writers perfectly embody her transformation from a self-obsessed rich girl who has never done a thing for herself and laughs at the lower-class to a down-to-earth worker that simply doesn’t want the journey to end.

it’s incredible how perfectly the writers were able to close off these character arc’s without it feeling forced, and without ignoring their character development. imagine that. tahani chooses her own way, and it’s beautiful.

jack

jack’s ending may be the only one that i’ve actually somewhat come to terms with. it’s not terrible. it’s not great. but it’s not nearly as bad. because ignoring that awful monologue about every drop of rain and shit, jack really does end up helping people. he ends up doing something that he loves and that makes the world a better place. and he doesn’t lose his personality in it. but. i dunno, that’s still his destiny, right? to create paradise. and this is a show about ripping up the rule book, about choosing free will above all else… so to have every single character just fulfill their destiny is cheap.

still… i’ll try to be unbiased. because really at the beginning of jack’s time on the show, he’s unsure what he wants. and at least, in the end, he’s sure. he has a wisdom that he’s always had but he’s now using. and i’m good with that. but what’s NOT okay about jack’s ending is the lack of on-screen family. jack learns that family is important. sam, cas, dean those are the people he cares about. and you’re telling me he would just NEVER see them again? and be okay with that? i know he rebuilds heaven with cas, but we don’t even get a story about him rescuing cas from the empty. and he seems in 15.19 to not be that concerned about it (after the amazing emotional scene at the beginning). jack should have cared about his family. he did. but they ruined that for him. so jack kline deserved better.

michael

oh man where do i start. michael’s growth is the biggest on the show. i mean. he starts as a literal demon and ends a human. he gets better, he falls in love with humanity (*castiel fan in me sobbing again*) and he chooses over and over to be good instead of bad. his whole arc is a classic redemption arc, and every single beat just gets better. he chooses selfishly to side with humans but in the end it turns out to be the best decision he could have made. because he develops emotions, he develops compassion, he develops a moral compass.

and his end reflects that. because to complete this arc of a demon becoming more human… he literally becomes human!!!! it fits so well. and he’s allowed to make mistakes and be happy and gain all that humanity has to offer. this just shows that human!endgame for cosmic beings that become more human WORKS SO WELL (and it shoulda happened for cas and jack that’s all i’m saying). michael went on his own terms, and it was beautiful.

eileen

oh boy… this one stings. because they brought her back, used her up, and we never saw her again. eileen was one of the best side characters on the show, and they rarely addressed her arc. she comes onto the show as a hunter seeking revenge, and gets that revenge in the same episode. her s15 arc is focused on what’s real and what’s not, with her relationship to sam admittedly being a central part of her character because… it’s supernatural and women can’t exist without that. but still! eileen grows throughout the show and in the end… we don’t even know what happens to her. it’s as if her arc wasn’t important enough to even glance at.

it’s as if the connections the boys make outside of each other mean nothing when in reality they mean everything. they prove that the co-dependency is behind them and that family doesn’t end with blood and that real connections can be formed between people that last a lifetime. eileen was a disabled hunter that was shown to still be one of the best in the business, and they didn’t even give her the courtesy of a goodbye. eileen didn’t go on her own terms, and she deserved better.

janet

this is gonna unbalance my list but goddammit janet’s ending was perfect. she was a not-robot, not-girl that should have been incapable of feelings. but throughout the series we get to watch as she learns first-hand about human emotions and processes them. she cares about the humans in her charge and fights for them on multiple counts.

in the end, we see janet come to terms with both her cosmic being side, and her human side. she never stops being with the “cockroaches.” she sees them all leave, she’s there for them while they’re there, and she also continues to speak her mind and live autonomously. janet was a non-human character done right. she lived on her own terms, and it was beautiful.

some honorable mentions

spn ignored (in the finale) chuck, amara, stevie, charlie, jody, donna, garth, bess, the other angels, claire, kaia, patience, alex, and the list goes ON in favor of focusing on JUST sam and dean. did none of those characters at least deserve a quick goodbye??????

the good place wrapped up multiple arcs i had completely forgotten about in a totally natural and not forced way. mindy, doug forester, (the mushroom guy, i know, it took me a second), pillboy, donkey doug, kamilah, tahani’s parents, eleanor’s mother, eleanor’s friends, chidi’s best friend, vicki, shawn, glenn, simone and so many that i’m forgetting all got satisfying ends that they totally deserved.

they even fucking resolved FROG GUY’S arc and gave him a real frog. that’s right. frog guy (jeff) had a better character arc resolution than dean motherfucking winchester.

heaven and hell

obviously in very different vehicles, both shows explore in depth the realities of the afterlife. and lemme tell ya, at the end of the day, one sits a whole lot better than the other.

the good place finale ends this quest for the perfect afterlife by saying that everyone can improve and that an eternal paradise shouldn’t keep you from eternal rest. they pretty much make me wish that this is what our afterlife looked like. they handle everything with care so it’s balanced precariously in a way that doesn’t give you anxiety looking at it but instead fills you with peace and faith in humanity.

supernatural addresses this series long battle between heaven and hell by creating a heaven where you drive for forty years without seeing the people (cough cough cas and jack not his parents) that matter to you and drink beer that tastes like shit. a place you can’t be happy or find any sense of peace until your brother has died and he’s there too.

and hell… well they barely even address it. there’s a new queen of hell i guess? but so what. it’s still very much heaven and hell in a way that’s the worst and hey plus to them… makes me wanna stay alive thank you very much. oh and purgatory is in shambles and not functioning properly cuz all that eve bullshit.

loose ends

whenever something is ending, you gotta tie up the loose ends. not in a “oh, we must wrap everything up and leave no stone unturned” kinda way but in a “wow, we should probably try to make this unambiguous because this is the last time we will ever see these characters” kinda way.

the good place does that. so fucking masterfully. all these side plots with all these different characters were taken care of all while focusing on the main six characters. we get to see how their intervention has changed everyone else. for example, mindy’s arc is wrapped up perfectly, with eleanor going to save her.

plus different running jokes like “take it sleazy” are wrapped up, we revisit really old callbacks like the original neighborhood, and all of it feels natural and in the moment. it feels like full circle in a way that doesn’t erase growth.

supernatural, on the other hand, left a million loose ends open. what happened to the boys they saved? where the fuck are jody, donna, etc.? did eileen make it back? cuz sam was pretty upset about that. what happened to it “being loud” in the empty? hell, what happened to the empty? what happened to hell? what about chuck? it woulda been nice to see just for a second what became of him. did charlie and stevie make it (i’m very invested in that relationship)? if we’re taking the original ending… why the fuck is jimmy there? did kansas just all,,, die?

i’m not saying they needed to address everything… but god a few wrapped up storylines besides the brothers wouldn’t have hurt

coloring

can i just… real quick… as a giffer lodge a complaint

the good place has beautiful vibrant coloring in the finale

spn has like bland washed out whatever the fuck that is coloring. it’s not even the dark early aesthetic cuz they dropped that it’s just… ew. so. do with that what you will.

conclusion

first… while writing this i realized just HOW MUCH it’s not about destiel… like believe me. i knew i wasn’t just pissed about destiel. but holy shit it’s not destiel at all like did i even mention destiel that much???? this was never about a ship. this was just a trash finale.

in the end. the good place writers knew what they were doing. they knew their fans, they knew their characters, they knew their world, and they knew how to wrap it up in a way that was satisfying and sad and perfectly fit the tone of the whole show. it wasn’t out of character or rushed, basically every loose end was tied up without the audience even realizing that’s what they were doing, and i feel happy and complete having watched it.

the supernatural ending was a betrayal. flat out. to the audience that has stuck by it in a way bigger way than the good place fandom. to the characters that have helped so many people. to the actors that have given so much of their lives. to the other members of the crew, to certain writers… all of it was just a slap in the face.

we deserved better guys. there are better endings possible. so i’m sorry. i really am. but i guess… that’s what fanfic is for, right?

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write-r-die · 2 years

Text

Prisoner - Part 24

Masterlist - By Tomorrow - Previous Chapter

So I started this story exactly a year ago and I want to thank everyone for sticking with it. My friends haven’t read it so your feedback is what keeps me going! I think this is one of the best stories I’ve written and I really hope I can get it published one day (after a shitload of edits and name changes). This chapter is dumb but good stuff is on the way! (I’m serious this time).

Thomasin stared at the ceiling as she thought about Simon and Charlie and Henry and why they’d come to England. She did it every night since her husband left.

She resented all three of them, even Henry, for attacking her people and destroying her country without mercy or cause. But it wasn’t for vanity’s sake that any of the brothers came to her shores, and that counted for something.

It seemed to her that all the other Normans came to England for riches and glory. The Cavills came because they simply could not stay in Normandy.

She thought about Roger, too. Was it a sense of duty that brought him here? She didn’t believe that he enjoyed this campaign – or violence of any kind. So why wasn’t he here? Did he feel trapped in Normandy the way Charlie had? Did he feel that he simply couldn’t stay?

Thomasin spent most of her life in isolation, but it wasn’t until she met Henry that she ever felt lonely. Once she knew what it was like to have someone of her own, she knew how painful it was to be alone. And these nights without him were torture.

Kal’s companionship simply wasn’t enough, and he’d be of more use protecting his master in the wild than babysitting her here in London.

She did her best not to dwell on Hammond, whom she loved and hated in equal measure. He had no place in this Norman world. Neither did she. But Thomasin could at least accept her fate. She’d already accepted an invader as her husband, hadn’t she?

***

Thomasin woke to Etheldreda’s gentle prodding. “Milady. It’s well past dawn.”

Thomasin’s mouth was dry and her limbs stiff, a sign that she had been dead asleep – and probably drooling. “Is it?” She was a heavy sleeper but usually an early riser, but lately she woke in the middle of the night and fell asleep sometimes during the day.

“Come, milady. I’ve prepared your bath.” Etheldreda guided her half-sleeping mistress into the steaming water. Tom hissed at the unbearable heat but felt her muscles melt into it only a heartbeat later. “Have you not been sleeping well?” the servant asked.

“Very well, actually,” Thomasin said. She slid down in the tub and submerged her abundant hair. “I think that’s the problem.”

“Mmm.” Etheldreda worked the floral soap into a lather and massaged it into her lady’s scalp. “Milady,” the servant said cautiously; Thomasin didn’t open her eyes. “There hasn’t been blood on your sheets in a long while.”

Thomasin did open her eyes now; she fixed them on the ceiling. She’d been dreading this conversation for days now, for her maid would certainly be the first to catch on. “No, there hasn’t.”

Etheldreda grinned widely. “Perhaps it is time to speak with Lady Elaine about what condition you might be in. I know for a fact that she has some sort of test to determine whether or not a woman is–”

“I will not be speaking to Lady Elaine,” Thomasin said sharply. “She has enough to worry about without my burdening her.”

“It won’t be a burden,” Etheldreda insisted. “Lady Elaine will be pleased to help you. A child –”

Thomasin held her hand up for silence. “I don’t wish to discuss this anymore.” Her tone was far harsher than it should be. Etheldreda only meant well.

But frankly, she was afraid of the answer Elaine would give her.

If she was in the family way, she would be angry and terrified. She wasn’t ready to be a mother, not now, not with everything being the way it was. She was afraid to risk her life in childbirth. She would be resentful of a child for coming now, for being forced to dedicate her whole being to it after her previous life was ripped away so recently. And her marriage to Henry was still so new – she wanted it to just be the two of them, just for a little while, at least until things settled.

If she was not with child, she would be painfully disappointed, though she couldn’t think of a real reason why. Maybe she was lonely. Maybe she was desperate for a new family to fill the hole left behind by the family she lost. Maybe she was afraid of letting her husband down.

Thomasin spent a long time drying herself in front of the fire as Etheldreda went about cleaning the chamber.

“Etheldreda,” Thomasin asked as her maid braided her hair back, “do you have children?”

“Oh, yes!” the servant replied. “I had six of them. Four by my first husband and two by my second.”

“Where are they now?”

“My oldest boy is a metalworker in town. His brother assists the stablemaster here at the castle. The three girls all have young children.”

Thomasin smiled at her maid’s obvious pride. It fell away. “Five,” she said. “That’s only five children. What about the sixth?”

Etheldreda was quiet for so long that Thomasin thought to ask her question again. “He was a sickly boy,” the maid said. “He took ill in his third summer and died.”

This was something Thomasin hadn’t thought about.

Children died all the time. Thomasin’s own parents lost their first little girl before any of the others were born, and her mother gave birth to a stillborn boy when Thomasin was ten years of age. Thomasin’s mother took a fever and died a few days later.

But not only did Tom have to worry about her own death, no – she would have to worry about the child’s, too.

She couldn’t withstand anymore heartbreak. She wasn’t strong enough. Over the past few years parts of her life were taken away one by one as if tearing feathers from the wings of a live bird, and the last six months in particular were almost too much to bear. And the loss of a child . . .

She tried to imagine what would happen if little Mercia passed on, if Elaine would be able to live without her, but her mind refused to conjure such an image.

Thomasin had trouble breathing. Suddenly it felt like she was back in the secret passage under the chapel at home, surrounded by pitch black and tight walls that seemed to grow tighter every moment.

She couldn’t do that. She wouldn’t.

***

They cleaned and dressed Roger’s wound constantly, but by dawn on the third day the fever had taken hold.

Roger himself was in high spirits, all things considered. He worked diligently to distract himself, primarily by playing cards. Most of the group was happy to oblige him, though Charlie had a difficult time hiding his feelings behind a smile.

The hallucinations started slowly at first – Roger called people by the wrong name or behaved as if he was still in Normandy. A few times, he asked someone to fetch his mother. “She’ll know how to fix this gash,” he’d say. His friends corrected him at first, though as the fever worsened, they slowly started to give up.

Edwin had no interest in any of it. He was disquieted. “If we stay here, we risk losing Hammond. He’ll flee north to Scotland,” he hissed. It was the middle of the night, exactly two days after Roger was injured. Henry and the others had spent most of the day digging one large grave for their fallen comrades.

“He won’t flee,” Henry said, sighing.

“Then he’ll come back and strike again while we’re down.”

“He won’t come back.”

“Are you sure?” Edwin said, crossing his arms over his chest. “It’s what Lawrence would do. It’s what I would do. It’s what your brother Charlie would do.” Henry said nothing. “We don’t know him. We don’t know how his mind works. We can only rely on our instincts to predict his movement, and my instincts are telling me he’s either fled north or he’s waiting in the wings to attack again.”

Henry shook his head. “He’s in the woods somewhere. If he hasn’t returned to his family’s keep. That’s where we will meet him again.”

Edwin looked murderous. “This is precisely why William sent me on this mission. To keep you from dragging your feet.”

“Dragging my feet? My kinsman may die and you call it dragging my feet?”

“Would you have stayed so long if it were my kinsman? If it were Lawrence?” Edwin and Lawrence were distant cousins, but he neither one of them was the sort to mourn a peripheral relative.

“You’re welcome to go hunt him down,” Henry said. “I will stay here with my friend.”

Another two days later, Henry emerged from Roger’s tent just as dusk was falling.

The handful of men that Edwin sent out to scout returned with rabbits and birds for supper. The men sat in clumps around the three fires, except for Jamie.

Henry found his squire sitting against a tree, his expression pensive. “Jamie?” he asked. The boy looked up as Henry took a seat near him. “What ails you?”

Jamie looked up. “Nothing, milord.”

“You’re a poor liar, Jamie. It’s no wonder you bleed coins when you play at cards.”

“You have enough on your mind, my lord,” Jamie said, shaking his head. “I cannot add my troubles to the mix.”

“You can and you will.” Henry took the waterskin nearby and started to wash his face and neck. “Out with it.”

“I did not think I would care the first time I killed a man,” he said. “Crispin has killed three and he is proud of it,” he said, nodding to where the squire was practicing archery. “But it troubles me.”

Henry looked into the fire and frowned. “Do you know why I chose you as my squire?” He looked back at Jamie, who mutely shook his head. “Because of your conscience. Men like Crispin and Charlie were created to be soldiers. You and I were not.”

“You’ve seen yourself that many men can lose themselves in battle. They seem almost to go mad.”

Jamie was silent.

“You gave him a quick death. That is an act of mercy in and of itself.” He put his hand on the boy’s shoulder. “And you saved my life. I am in your debt, my friend.”

Roger started shouting nonsense from inside his tent. “Not from outside! You can’t let her in! Mother!”

Jamie looked over his shoulder toward the source of the sound. Henry hung his head.

Charlie, who was sitting in the tent with him, quieted him almost immediately, but the damage was already done. Everyone’s mood fell into a quiet, palpable mix of pity and discomfort.

Jamie looked to his master. Henry pretended not to notice and kept his eyes fixed on the small campfire a few feet away. “You should eat something,” he said. “Then try to sleep. We’ll have a long night ahead of us.”

They only had an hour or two to themselves before Roger woke them screaming.

@khadineberry @lunedelorient @amberangel112 @sauvage-et-libre @summersong69 @rocket44 @xxxkatxo @sarcasmoverlordxo @kebabgirl67 @pterodactylterrace @joaniepencil @littleone65 @nilletellsstories

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the-firebender-girl · 4 years

Text

Thick As Thieves (Zuko x Reader)

-> In which Azula got her redemption arc and gets to be the cool aunt.

Zuko has been equally dreading and anticipating this day for months. The day his sister will finally be released from the asylum on a nearby island. She was continuously monitored and deemed stable now, safe enough to roam free again and insert herself back to society. His last encounter with her a few years back wasn’t exactly a pleasant experience so he doesn’t know what to expect now, will it go awry again? or has she really turned a new leaf? guess he’ll find out sooner than later.

His worries extend far beyond his own discomfort of facing his deranged and misguided sister because he also has others to worry about, he’s got his own family now. A wife, a daughter, and a son. His wife had briefly met Azula when she tagged along with him at one of his visits but he can’t say the same for the younglings. Izumi and Isao, the new beloved princess and prince of the Fire Nation, his pride and joy.

Being a father suprisingly comes natural to him despite his dreadful childhood and having no father figure to look up to. He learnt a lot from watching Hakoda though, he owed that man a lot. Especially now that the closest thing that he has to a father is gone. Uncle Iroh decided that he had done all he could in the material world and chose to ascend to the Spirit World, leaving his mortal body behind and letting his soul make a new home there.

It was a decision that Zuko supports wholeheartedly, but still sometimes he wishes that Iroh is still around to guide him with his wisdom. Now he has this world of ruling and fatherhood that he has to navigate on his own, hoping that he won’t mess it up.

“Love, are you ready?” Y/N’s gentle voice broken his train of thoughts, pulling him back into the real world.

“Yeah... just thinking about... things” He replied lamely, reaching out for her hand which she gives. He always love playing around with her fingers, the contact brings him comfort.

“Don’t get lost in your head too much, okay?” She said, giving him a tender smile.

He stares back at the love of his life appreciatively and gives her a sure nod.

“I just... I don’t know how to feel, it’s like i’m scared of expecting anything if it’ll just put myself up for a disappointment. You know how much of a wildcard she is” Zuko said timidly, looking small and more vulnerable than he has been for years.

“I know Zuko, this must be soo confusing for you, i’m scared too but we’re in this together right? I’ll be with you every step of the way” Y/N assure him, trying to subdue his worries as much as she could. Rubbing comforting touches at his shoulder.

“Spirits, Y/N. What did I ever do to deserve you?” He leaned his head back a bit so that he can nuzzle it into her stomach.

She hums, “I don’t know, you must be a hero or something with what a great catch I am” She grins teasingly, easing up the tension.

She considers it as a triumph when her husband lets out a scoff of disbelief, “Woman you are unbelieveable” Shaking his head at her.

“Part of the charm, love”

To that he can’t help but burst out laughing.

Oh the married life.

———————————————————————

Azula stood on her own two feet, no longer bounded by straitjacket nor in a wheelchair. She stood as a free woman now. She wouldn’t go as far as to say ‘free and changed woman’ because some things just scarred too deep too remove but the therapies she undergo definitely did some good. So was the time she spent away from the capital and from the expectations she used to bear.

Now she stands face to face with Zuko, all out in his Fire Lord regalia. It suits him, not that she would admit that out loud, her pride is still very much intact after all.

“Should I bow to you now?” Her voice sends a cold chill running through Zuko, despite being locked away it seems that his sister managed to keep the bite in her.

“According to formalities you should, but no” He replied, feigning indifferent.

“Whatever you say, Fire Lord Zuzu”

Zuko’s composure cracks at the sound of his childhood nickname combined with what is now his title, one of his eyes twitching in annoyance. From his peripheral vision, he saw Y/N raising one of her hands in front of her mouth to hide her growing smile and a laugh that threatens to escape.

Even the guards who are standing by and thus being a part of this reunion seems to have trouble doing their part after witnessing this exchange. The sound of giggling little voices reaches his ears, at this he softens and put his hands on Izumi and Isao’s shoulder.

“Now who might these be?” Azula said as she redirects her line of vision to the source of noise, raising both of her eyebrows expectantly.

“This is my children, Izumi my eldest....” Zuko said while patting her head lovingly then he moves to do the same to his son, “And Isao, her younger brother”

Azula’s eyes roamed over them, taking in every features as if sizing them up, then she stops when she reaches their faces. Molten gold meets its exact pair, a courtesy of the royal family (superior) gene pool if she say so herself. That eye color might as well be their trademark after all.

“Well hello there little ones, i’m Aunty Azula” She said as she carefully took a step closer towards them. The guards almost block her away but Zuko raised his hand to signal them to be at ease and let her pass.

Izumi shrinks back, scared but at awe at the same time at her aunt’s cat-like movement. It’s soo smooth she looks like she is gliding across the floor and now she’s in front of them in no time. She may be 7 but she’s old enough to understand things, things that she heard people say in a whispers about her aunt whom she never met before. And that is enough to make her reluctant.

Izumi looked to her right at her little brother but Isao doesn’t show the slightest hint of being unfazed. In fact he looks intrigued.

There was a small awkward silence moment before a huge grin bloomed on Isao’s face, making his puffy cheeks even more prominent.

“Hey there aunty! i’m sooo pumped to meet you” He said innocently, excitement oozing from his very being.

Azula is caught off guard by such a welcoming reaction, this is not something that she expected at all. She never even realized her inadequacy in dealing with children until she’s finally forced to face one. What’s the first thing that she should even do? feed them flaming fire flakes? use them as target practice? Agni, Zuzu better not do anything stupid like leaving her with any of them.

Y/N watched as her sister in law seems to be frozen in place, looking at her son as if he’s an alien being. Who knew that the great Azula will one day be stupefied at a mere interaction with a 4 years old child? well the more you know.

“Sooo... lunch, anyone?” Y/N said, a pathetic attempt to break the ice.

Azula just walked past them without a second glance. Making her way inside the palace that she once called home, with Isao tailing behind. Small feet attempting to catch up to her long strides. Zuko and Y/N shared a glance at each other, to which he just shrugs and they too follow after her.

———————————————————————

A week has passed since she came back and Azula is adjusting pretty nicely, well people still cower at the sight of her and most of them stay as far as they can but not that she mind that.

Well everyone except this little bugger called Isao aka his brother’s second spawn. He loves following her around and looking at her with those annoying big round eyes, think that would work on her too huh? too bad she hates children. He really doesn’t know what’s good for him.

Tonight they’re having a family dinner. To formally celebrate her coming back or whatever. At least the food is good. The mouth-watering scent of smoked sea slug, roast duck, komodo sausages, extra spicy fire noodles, and fruit tart filled the air. It’s starting to look more and more like a feast instead of a nice and quiet family dinner. Trust her brother to always make a spectacle out of everything.

Azula was minding her own business, scooping bits of this and that into her plate when the empty chair beside her got dragged back by a pair of small hands. Isao’s round face greeted her as she watches his sorry attempt at climbing the chair. Grumbling, she picks him up and put him securely on top of it before he hits his head on the side of the table or something.

“Thanks Aunty Azula!” He said, giving her his signature wide grin.

“Ughh whatever kiddo”

Azula turns her attention towards the head of the table where Zuko and Y/N are currently sitting, haven’t yet realized that their son has disappeared from his designated chair.

Azula clears her throat, that successfully got their attention.

“Zuko, Y/N would you mind giving some help over here? it’s trying to bond again” A hint of awkwardness creeps into her voice, face scrunching, she’s even shifting left and right in her seat.

Y/N rolls her eyes, “It’s got a name, Azula and he’s your nephew so play nice”

“B-but....” Before she could voice her protest, the couple has already turned their attention away.

She closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths, Isao’s curious stares burning into her.

Once she opens her eyes again, the boy is already stuffing his mouth full of sausages.

“I guess i’m stuck with you then” She said defeatedly as she watches him happily munching his food down.

———————————————————————

“You know you look exactly like your father when he was little” Azula said to the boy whom she’s babysitting, it pains her to even think about this. What were Zuko and Y/N even thinking when they decided that leaving their son to her care for the day is the best idea. Does she look like she’ll make a good nanny? Spirits, the audacity.

This carbon copy of Zuko is currently sitting beside the pond, with two little feets dangling in the water, creating small ripples here and there. The turtle ducks happily swam around him, waiting for him to throw in another good measure of breadcrumbs.

“Yeah I know that! Grandfather Iroh used to say that a lot” He said to which Azula scoffed and tsked under her breath, “Grandfather Iroh”

“Of course of course....” She said while lazily drawing patterns on the grass, “Good ‘ol Grandfather Iroh”

Isao stops his feeding session and crawled to where Azula is sitting.

“Do you know that my name means ‘honor’ or ‘meritorious’ ? How cool is that huh!? father picked that out himself” He said, wide eyed. Visibly bouncing in his seat while giving her this piece of information.

Azula lets out an incredulous chuckle as she shakes her head, “Of course Zuzu would choose something like that as a name, your father was obsessed with his honor” Drawling out the word obsessed to make her point clear.

“But I think it suits you, little one. So there’s that” She said giving him a shrug. That earned her a smile and Isao makes an exaggerated air fist pump, clearly pleased.

Azula reached out for the picnic basket that Y/N has earlier prepared for them, taking out the wrapped mochi and some tea. She then gives it to Isao, right on time as she hears his stomach rumble.

“Hungry are we? the mochi looks delicious but too bad the tea is already cold”

“Not to worry about that Aunty Azula! I got a little trick I can show you”

Imagine her surprise when fire sparks out of his fingertips, dancing on the bottom of the teapot, warming it quickly to a nice temperature.

“What?!?! how did you do that?” She said still pretty much in shock, watching as the fire slowly dies down.

“I once watched Grandfather Iroh do it, I haven’t figured out how then but now I can do it on command”

This boy really has no idea that he just executed a firebending trick perfectly didn’t he? warming up tea is a complicated form of art, it has to be done perfectly for the leaves and spices to fully release its essence. Such a raw talent in someone so young.

Come to think of it, even if he knows, he wouldn’t have thought about it too much nor dwell on it. If Azula got it right, Zuko’s eldest is a non-bender so Isao most likely or not has no experience in watching a firebending training.

“Kiddo, you can firebend? is there any other tricks that you can do?” Azula asked in an encouraging tone, this attitude is unusual coming from her but even she can’t deny that she has developed a soft spot for her nephew.

“I can create little fire here and there or warm myself up if I needed to but that’s all” Isao replied, looking her straight in the eye.

Azula hums as the gears in her brain is starting to turn, “Would you like me to teach you some things?”

Isao jumps up and down in excitement, this is all soo exciting! he is actually bonding with his aunt.

What an interesting turn of event indeed.

———————————————————————

They are in the middle of a rather pleasant dinner that night when Azula decided to break the news to her brother and sister in law.

“Do any of you know that your son is a firebender?”

The reaction that she earned is priceless, Zuko starts choking on his food whereas Y/N’s jaw dropped open, mouth forming a perfect O-shape.

“He hasn’t shown any sign of firebending abilities, we thought he’s a non-bender like his sister” Y/N answers for her husband because Zuko is still trying to clear up his air pipe.

“Firecracker, why don’t you show the trick that I taught you earlier?” Azula said to Isao, beckoning him with her fingers.

He excitedly nodded and turns to face his parents. He took a deep breath and concentrate, sparks of fire lights up from his fingertips. Slowly he guides the fire into forming a small circle in front of him, the circle then starts to take shape into a dragon, a fire dragon.

Y/N gasps as the shape becomes more and more prominent, flying across the dining hall but never too hot to burn anything. It’s an incredible thing to watch, she is indeed a proud mother. Even Izumi is enjoying the show, her eyes following the dragon’s every movement. Zuko is at loss for words, he can’t believe that his 4 years old son not only can firebend, but he’s damn good at it too. Azula may have discovered his potentials, but of course it’s up to him to mastered it.

Isao can only holds the form for 5 minutes before the fire burns out, after all he’s still young and has a lot more to learn, but that display is enough to make everyone clap their hands.

“Firecracker, you are marvelous! told you they’ll love it” Azula said as she moved one of her hands to tussle his hair teasingly.

Both Zuko and Y/N rushed from their seats to engulf Isao in a hug, Y/N peppering little kisses all over his face, meanwhile Zuko looks as if he’s high on cactus juice.

“Father, mother...stop....I can’t breathe” Little Isao complaints as he attempts to break free.

“Why didn’t you tell us sooner?” Y/N said as she bends her knees so that she can be at head level with her son.

“I want to do it right, mother. That’s why I learned some new tricks first before I showed it to you. I don’t want to accidently burn something” Isao replied.

“And you will do it right, son. I’ll make sure of it” Zuko said as he gaze at his son fondly.

“Yeah! you’ll be a great firebender, brother” Izumi joins in and smiles encouragingly.

Azula can’t help the small smile that tugs at her lips. This is a scene that she and the palace walls never got to witness before, a loving and supportive family. Zuko has done it right.

———————————————————————

That night as Azula makes her way down the corridor of the Royal Wing and passes by Isao’s slightly ajar bedroom door, she can’t help but sneak a peek.

The little boy is being tucked to bed by his mother, Y/N who sensed the presence of someone else turns her head around and gives her a small smile.

“Would you like to wish him goodnight, Azula?” Y/N asks her, inviting her in with a nod.

Azula nodded back and let herself in, meanwhile Y/N stands up and gives Isao a kiss to his forehead, “Sleep well my little prince” Azula can hear her whispers the word softly.

After that Y/N walks out of the room. Azula took a few steps closer to the bed and sit at the edge. Hands rubbing comforting circles at his blanket-covered feet.

“You know you’re literally a mini Zuko but I like you much much better than him, firecracker” Azula said in a teasing tone.

“I’m glad you think so Aunty Azula because I like you too! people said you’re scary but I don’t see it, I think you’re a nice person”

Isao’s words got Azula holding back a choked sob, her eyes starting to get watery. No one had ever told her that she’s a nice person. People just see her as this monster, even her own mother.

Coming back here was a hard thing for her to do, she never had a home anyway or anyone to come back to. That does not comes as a surprise to her of course, her family is as dysfunctional as they come anyway. But this little firecracker proved her wrong. Maybe she too deserves to belong somewhere after all she’s been through.

Azula gives him a smile and a kiss to his head, “Sleep well, firecracker” to which she got a “Goodnight Aunty Azula” back as a reply.

As Azula steps out of the room and closes the door slowly, she turns around and came straight in contact with Zuko, nearly tumbling to the floor.

“Why you..” Azula started before Zuko puts a finger in front of his mouth in a shushing motion, reminding her not to wake up Isao.

Zuko made a motion for her to follow him and she did, they walk side by side along the hallway.

“He’s really fond of you, you know” He said, staring straight forward.

“Agni knows why, but despite him being your son he is actually.... tolerable” Azula said curtly.

“You know you should learn to express yourself better, sister. Some emotions won’t hurt you”

“Are you just gonna lecture me or is there a point to this conversation?”

“Fine, fine” Zuko said as he rolls his eyes in a childish manner, “Will you be Isao’s firebending teacher?”

Azula stopped on spot, “Did I just misheard you or do you actually trust me enough to train your son?”

“Hey, you’re a great firebender! no one can deny that. I can’t think of anyone better to be his master, your moral compass might be crooked but that’s what me and Y/N are here for, right” At this he earned an elbow shoved to his chest.

“You don’t have to be so abusive you know” He mutters.

Azula gives him a grin, satisfied that she caused him a slight pain.

“I’ll teach him, not because you asked me to, but because I genuinely wants him to be even greater. He’s got potentials, Zuko” Azula said, more serious than Zuko has ever heard her.

“Yeah I know that, he’s a great kid”

Azula and Zuko look at each other, sharing a silent understanding, and gave each other a nod.

Zuko reaches a hand out for her to shake, “Truce?”

With no hesitation, she reaches out her own hand and take it, “Truce.”

They both then part ways but before Azula turns around the corner, Zuko speak up again.

“Hey, Azula?”

She turns around and raised one of her eyebrow, silently asking him what.

“I’m glad you’re here.... welcome home” Zuko said, giving her a small smile before he turns around and walk to his chamber.

Azula stood in that same spot even after Zuko’s silhouette has disappeared. Contemplating to herself, before letting out a sigh and a smile that is actually meant for her brother despite him not being able to see it.

“I’m glad that i’m here too, brother.”

———————————————————————

A/N : I’m a sucker for Azula’s redemption arc so I can’t resist myself from writing this one. What do you think about it? would like to hear more from all of you darlings ♥️

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silvertonedwords · 3 years

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#40 kisses prompt if you haven't had that asked yet please and thank you.

A gentle kiss that quickly descends into passion, with little regard for what’s going on around them.

I felt like expanding this.

“And, why are people staring at us?”

Tina clears her throat as they walk past gaggles of well-dressed employees at the Ministry entrance, then waves her wand at a stand of this morning’s papers so that one flies into her hand and falls open to the second page. “The usual.” She passes the page over to Newt, her beaded charcoal gown rustling between them.

Many of the guests pay them no mind, but Newt is right to notice the odd person pointing or whispering with badly concealed glances in their direction.

“ ‘Scamander and Auror Wife to Split’ details on page 10′” he reads. “Merlin’s beard, not again.” He skims the article briefly before sending the paper back to the stand with a flick of his wand and a frustrated sigh. Frequent absences for work. Sources close to the couple. Chilly atmosphere on a walk last week after Mr. Scamander returned from his research trip.

“Mm-hm.” Tina rolls her eyes, fighting hard to brush it off entirely, although she knows these articles bother Newt. Not all of them—not the ones speculating about the color of ink he uses at book signings or the financial arrangement he has with his publisher for a second edition. He finds those easy enough to ignore. And the articles that anger him the most are those with misinformation about his creatures. But she has noticed that it bothers him when the papers speculate about the state of their relationship. Is it so impossible for people to see how we feel about each other? he’d asked the night after the second article had run, his face cast in shadows on the pillow beside her and his fingers tracing absent-minded shapes along her ribs.

She can understand the frustration. As secure as they are in each other, it stings that the rest of society seems to have decided that their feelings deserve suspicion and ridicule. A single article would be one thing, but to have the baseless stories repeated over, and over... (Who’s gonna marry him? she remembers asking Newt on the day they met, in reference to Jacob of course, but it feels apt now—the question everyone else seems to be asking of them.) Tina is a generally private person, and she knows it wouldn’t help, but sometimes she wishes she could make these foolish people listen to her as she describes her husband—his kindness, and wit, and energy. How unusual and wonderful he is, and how lucky they both feel every day, even when one of them is in a terrible mood, or they’re about to be separated for work, to have stumbled into each other on a New York street.

The specifics of the articles change each time, but the implications remain more or less the same. Some speculate that she is always at work, too busy to support his success, and too disinterested a wife to care. Others suggest that he is too strange, too cold—that he couldn’t possibly care for her. And always, the articles seem to say, it was destined to be a disaster, and if ever there was any passionate feeling between them, there certainly isn’t now. She’ll take the criticism of her feelings and know it’s absurd, but the self-satisfied hints about Newt are enraging.

They make their way to the east wing of the lobby and up a set of stairs, where floating chandeliers and draping gold and navy fabric adorn the usually bare hall. Newt must have picked up on her scowl, because he slides his hand into hers and squeezes tightly. She squeezes back, trying to shake off her frustration as she waves at a couple of auror colleagues. “Thanks for coming with me. I know you hate these things.”

“You hate them too,” he protests.

“Yes, but I’m the one who’s required to go.”

His thumb sweeps across the back of her hand, his fingers threading through hers. “I’d do far more, you know.”

She does not try to hide her soft smile, lovestruck though it must be. “I know.”

They reach the top of the stairs and turn left, making their way past tables of bubbling drinks and towards the ballroom’s heavy wooden doors. Newt drops her hand to avoid a floating platter of chocolates, stepping to the side to rejoin her a few feet later. A camera flash goes off in front of them. Wonderful, Tina thinks. More fuel for speculation.

-&-

The first part of the evening goes as well as can be expected. Tina has few enough people that she’s interested in talking to; the only reason the Auror Department is required to attend these soirees is ‘to demonstrate to everyone that England is doing just fine in our efforts to stop Grindelwald’.

At least Perkins had pulled Newt deep into conversation about the creatures he’d come across on assignment in Brazil. They’d wandered off fifteen minutes earlier, leaving Tina to sip her drink and watch the rest of the senior aurors and department heads mingle. Occasionally, she has a brief conversation with a colleague, but they, like her, keep moving around the room, taking stock. Even if she were the kind of person who enjoyed parties, she supposes, her job would probably ruin them. There are too many people to keep an eye on--too many people that she’s learned by reputation or experience not to trust.

Since Newt left for a smaller anteroom, she has also found to her great annoyance that the gossiping has become somewhat bolder. There are a few whispers around her--a couple of women from the press office pointing at her with sympathetic sighs; a man turning to his wife and saying I didn’t think it would last, you know. He’s so odd.

She has just turned back for another drink when Mrs. Selwyn spots her. “Ah, Tina darling, how are you?”

Tina moves her glass to her left hand, reaching with her right to shake the woman’s hand. The Selwyns have purchased hippogriffs from the Scamanders and have known both boys since they were little, although they are not, Tina has gathered, a particular favorite of either. “Fine, Mrs. Selwyn,” Tina replies smoothly, keeping an eye on new arrivals passing through the ballroom door.

“You know, dear, if you ever needed--well, if you needed someone to talk to...”

Tina swallows a cough at the presumption. “What about?” she asks cheerfully.

“Oh, well. I’m sure I don’t know. Married life. That sort of thing.”

Tina does cough at that, covering it with a sip of her drink. Any anger on her part, she knows, will only be taken as confirmation of the story. The nerve of these people though, and the nerve of those so-called journalists with their smug implications, that no one could really fall in love with Newt; that a woman and an auror could not possibly have a happy marriage; that because Newt doesn’t follow her around like a crup at every event saying ‘yes dear’ and ‘of course dear’, he couldn’t possibly be in love with her. Never mind the way he looked at her from across the room a few minutes ago, when he caught her gaze mid-sentence. Never mind that her heart still takes off like a niffler in a jewelry store whenever he fixes her hair or kisses the back of her hand.

“Tina!” she hears, grateful that for once, her brother-in-law has good timing. “Could I borrow her for a moment, Mrs. Selwyn? Auror business.”

Mrs. Selwyn looks between them, raising an eyebrow as though deciding whether to be offended, and then nods and turns away.

“Thank you,” Tina murmurs under her breath as they walk towards the opposite wall.

“I’m quite put out, you know,” Theseus replies good-naturedly. “My brother and sister-in-law are splitting up for the fifth time this year, and they didn’t even bother to tell me.”

“Don’t you start,” she warns.

Theseus glances at her, then nods towards Mrs. Selwyn’s retreating form. “Is that what that was about?”

She hums in acknowledgement. “Offering ‘marital advice’.”

“Ridiculous, if you ask me. ‘There was a chilly atmosphere on their walk’,” he quotes. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Mm, particularly given the fact that we’d spent the majority of that day in bed.”

Theseus chokes on a sip of firewhisky. “Tina, he’s my little brother, would you please not—“ She grins, and he scowls back half-heartedly. “You say things like that just to make me squirm.”

“It’s good for you.” Her grin melts into a softer smile as she catches sight of Newt, who is still engrossed in his conversation with Perkins half a room away, his hands flying through the air with his enthusiasm.

Theseus’s voice has gentled beside her. “I don’t know how anyone could pay attention to the two of you for five minutes and believe anything those articles say.”

Well, Tina thinks with a rush of impatient energy, perhaps that’s what everyone needs to put an end to this stupid speculation. “Back in a minute,” she tells Theseus, downing the last of her drink and setting the glass on a nearby table.

She strides across the room to where Newt and Perkins are still talking. “Could I borrow Newt?” she asks, one hand grazing Newt’s elbow once he’s seen that it’s her.

“Hello,” Newt offers once they are facing each other. He swallows hard, she presumes at what must be a rather fierce expression on her face.

“Hi,” she returns, touching the edge of his fringe.

He catches her hand in his own, turning to press a kiss to her palm, the touch comfortable and breathtaking in equal measure. “Is something the matter?”

She shakes her head, falling into the tender amusement of his searching gaze. The auror in her had crossed the room with a plan, but as she slides a hand along his jaw and brings his lips to hers, she does not think about who might be watching them, or who would care. She does it because she wants to, and because she loves him, and because they can. Because she’s caught glimpses of him looking at her all evening, and knows that she’s been doing the same.

Newt is as wrapped up in them as she was in an instant. He tilts his head further and cups her jaw to keep their mouths joined, his other hand settling on her waist to steady them. The kiss is intense but not frenzied, the press of lips and tongues a familiar give and take, their soft gasps muffled into the space between them.

Tina slides her hand around his neck, slipping her fingers up into his messy hair and smiling against his lips when he arches into the touch, and Newt coaxes her closer with his hand spread across her back. A shiver works its way through her as his calloused hand settles against her bare skin where the cut of her dress has left it exposed.

They part slowly, first to their foreheads pressed together, and then enough that Tina glimpses the dazed expression that matches her own.

He watches his fingers curl into her mussed hair and tuck it back behind her ear, and Tina melts into the tenderness in his touch and his eyes. “That was…” he manages, his voice rough.

Her teeth dig into her lip, her eyes dancing to find the beginnings of a smile on Newt’s lips. “Unexpected?” She fixes the ends of his collar, although they hardly need adjusting. “I thought maybe we could put a stop to the rumors. They were starting to bother me.” She fingers his bowtie. “I think they have been. A little. Not because—but the things that everyone assumes about you are...“

“I know.” His brow furrows, his fingers curling around hers. “I think the same about you.”

A camera flashes beside them.

Tina sighs as, reluctantly, they pull apart. In an ideal world, they wouldn’t appear in the papers. But if they’re going to, at least it can be a little more accurate, and less likely to send nosy women and thoughtless Ministry officials their way with cruel assumptions about Newt’s heart.

The story runs the following day as a caption to a photograph from the evening, an ever-repeating moment of their hands tangled and eyes fixed together as they separate from their kiss.

Newt Scamander & Auror Goldstein Like Newlyweds at Last Night’s Soiree, the headline reads.

Theseus drops a copy on Tina’s desk the next morning with a shake of his head and a begrudging grin.

“So, did that go how you’d planned?” Newt asks that night as they’re getting ready for bed.

Tina grins as he settles under the blankets beside her. “I saw you tear out a copy of that photograph and put it in your case.”

He settles a hand on her hip, and she grasps it to tug him closer, until he’s pressed up against her back, his voice behind her warm and sleepy. “Your eyes in that photo, Tina.”

She cranes her neck to glimpse his face, reaching an arm behind her to tuck his face into her neck. “I may have left a copy in my desk. I prefer yours.”

#newtina #newtina fanfiction #my writing #i don't even know what this is #anyway #tina and theseus being friends gives me life ok

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robininthelabyrinth · 4 years

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Howdy! Your writing rocks! If you don’t mind, could I ask you what you think would change if Jin Guangyao had given the regard he has for Lan Xichen to Jiang Cheng instead? Do you think there’d be huge changes or little ones? This isn’t a prompt, I think your meta is super cool. Obvs if you don’t wanna answer, there’s no pressure or anything.

So this is going to be more of an insight into the rambling way I develop stories than anything else, but basically these are my (very long) thoughts:

First step: the question is not “if”. The question is “how”. How does JGY come to have a regard for JC instead of LXC?

Let us posit that JGY meets (and becomes devoted to) LXC after he’s been thrown down from Koi Tower - rescuing him after the burning of the Cloud Recesses, which presumably happened while on his way to Qinghe or after he’s arrived (or, in the Untamed, when he’s working at Qinghe already).

So, let’s take that as our starting point: JGY doesn’t go to Qinghe.

He goes to Yunmeng instead, probably taking a boat to get there. Regardless of when he arrives, this doesn’t really go anywhere until after the Lotus Pier is burned, after everything that happens between WWX and JC happens, and now JC is raising an army and madly recruiting for the Jiang Sect. Meng Yao shows up with a smile and a “I’m from Yunping, just down the river, I want to help here” spiel, and he’s good - he’s efficient and smart and good with people, all the characteristics that made NMJ appreciate him, and JC needs good people so badly. Especially in the beginning, when he’s alone, with WWX missing.

But here’s the difference between NMJ and JC: JC needs people. He’s not a natural leader, having been dragged into trouble by WWX his whole life, and he’s brand new at being a sect leader; he doesn’t have established likes or dislikes, he has no idea what he’s doing. He’s going to rely on Meng Yao, he’s going to depend on Meng Yao - Meng Yao says jump and JC says “good idea, how high?” and he doesn’t even notice he’s doing it. Meng Yao is all but running the sect, and he doesn’t even have to try. No prostitutes’ tricks here, no smiles, no empty flattery - most of the subtle stuff goes straight over JC’s head, but a vaguely kind word every once in a while and JC will turn bright red and look pleased as punch for the next hour. That type of power is seductive.

And then WWX shows up.

As much as I love WWX, his dynamics with JC are not the best. WWX does whatever he wants and expects JC to follow, because he always has, and JC always does - how irritating that would be to Meng Yao, who up until this point has been put into the position of big brother for the first time in his life, and who now has to tip-toe around the ticking time bomb that is Yiling Patriarch!WWX to get what he wants. Plus, Meng Yao is good with people: he doesn’t need to know all the gossip about the Jiang family (though he does) to be able to figure out that, legitimate birth or not, JC has spent his entire life being treated like the sect leader’s dissatisfying bastard son - and oh, that hits Meng Yao in the one soft spot he has left, the spot that’s almost but not entirely narcissism, the one that LXC got into by being nice and kind and treating him like an equal, the one NHS, soft and dependent, got into by being sad and pathetic, and which JC, prickly and mean, gets in by virtue of being like Meng Yao.

He doesn’t do anything about that dislike, though; JC loves WWX, and the war effort needs him, so he’ll put up with him...for now. After a while, he goes to Langya - no need to have an accidentally-not-accidentally overheard conversation here! He just says “my father” and JC is like “I totally get it, go”. And when JC finds him killing that supervisor and Meng Yao says “he deserved it”, JC believes him, because JC is ride-or-die until you force him off the ride. He’s gullible and trusting, even though he thinks he’s cynical, and he’s about as susceptible to Meng Yao’s bullshit as LXC is (as we see in canon!)

So Meng Yao goes to be a spy and (because he doesn’t know LXC in this) he sends the info to JC, who sends the info to LXC (the courier), who gets it to NMJ, and all that stuff happens about the same way. Except NMJ has no reason to know that Meng Yao is a conniving bastard that uses friendly fire to settle debts, so when Meng Yao says “I had no choice but to kill them”, NMJ is upset but has no reason to doubt it. And now you have NMJ owing Meng Yao a favor, however grudgingly.

No sworn brothers, though, not with LXC to suggest it and without NMJ wanting to put Meng Yao on the right track, and JC is pretty sensitive about family stuff so best not to even suggest it. It’s fine, Meng Yao - now JGY - doesn’t need it. Just like he doesn’t need to do all that much to get JZX killed, just a suggestion here, a little trouble there, a bit of blackening of WWX’s name that’s really mostly his own fault for being so arrogant: it’s regrettable that he has to ruin Jiang Yanli’s marriage by getting JZX killed (sad, but necessary if he’s going to be sect leader), but she was never supposed to die. He even waited until she had a son and heir so that she wouldn’t be alone! He’s very nice, isn’t he?

(And if WWX dying and Jiang Yanli dying means that JC is all his, with no one else in the world to interfere, well, that’s all the better, isn’t it? No one can take care of JC as well as he can.)

The Xue Yang situation is easy to resolve, too. NMJ has no “in” to Koi Tower, not without a relationship with JGY, and this pushes the two sects onto the brink of war - and that’d be no good at all, especially with JC grieving the way he is, all alone and desperate. Plus, JC has father issues, and that’s a little infectious; JGY is looking at JGS through the lens of JFM and it’s a lot less idealistic. So let’s say for all these reasons JGY moves up his plans and kills JGS earlier, and the second he takes over he vows that XY will be killed...except, alas, XY must have gotten wind and fled, because he’s gone. Awkward, huh? Definitely not JGY’s fault, though. Who are you going to believe is responsible for all that gross stuff, NMJ, the dead pervert or the guy who saved your life?

And then JGY is Sect Leader Jin and he and JC can raise little Jin Ling together, and maybe even Jin Rusong (although if he kills JGS early there’s a possibility that he wouldn’t need to shore up power in the Jin sect by marrying QS, or at least wouldn’t feel like he has to get her pregnant before the marriage, though of course there’s also no reason he wouldn’t do it anyway). Now what?

The Watchtowers, of course. Except in this world, NMJ is alive and well (no sworn brothers, no Song of Clarity here - except the legitimate one from LXC) and we know JGY knows how to put on the face NMJ most likes to see. So with JC in his pocket and NMJ fond of him, and LXC as nice and friendly as always, the sects live in wonderful harmony. In large part because JGY doesn’t need to murder quite so many of them.

(and then over in Yi City, someone sacrifices their body to bring back the Yiling Patriarch because he’s their last hope to bring XXC back, either Song Lan or Xue Yang, and suddenly WWX is back - WWX who JC loves and hates in equal measure, WWX who’s a little too good at figuring out cause-and-effect - and JGY....JGY doesn’t like that. He doesn’t like that at all.)

#jiang cheng #meng yao #jin guangyao #mdzs #mdzs meta #my fic #my fics #I guess #not really a fic #more of an outline #because there was a boat #Anonymous

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mercuryislove · 3 years

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1, 4, and 9 (for whichever story, I’m not picky 😊)

because I'm unable to shut up about anything ever I answered two for each..... I hope that's okay lol

1. Which character is most devoted to another character? Is that character equally devoted to them?

This is hard to say because undying devotion is like. my thing. I'm obsessed with devotion, especially when it morphs into something beyond loyalty and dedication. (basically I'm obsessed with the idea of love driving people to insanity lol I could talk about that shit for days) UM. If I had to pick just one, I would say probably the way Andhira (and her brother and mother) is devoted to the Sovereign. It's kind of a cop out and also kind of contradicts the fact that Andhira like. tried to get him killed once to take his place (listen, a thousand years is a long time. Of course there's going to be insane family drama. Give her a break), but she loves him. They all love him. He's the reason they exist. He's the reason there are any vampires left at all. He's the primary reason that the world hasn't torn itself apart in spite of it all. She would do anything for him. She would fall on her sword a thousand times if he asked. Even if he didn't ask. If she thought that was what he wanted, she would do it. And he absolutely is as devoted to her. If not more so. Everything he has ever done was for her. (well. Technically everything he has ever done was for Tahire, but like. bear with me.) He would give up anything for his daughter without a second thought because she is the reason he lives on despite well..... not always wanting to. He would gladly live forever if that was what would make her happiest, but he would die at a moment's notice too.

Honorable mention also to the devotion between Ciaran and Anwei because um. Imagine living through hell together and being the only thing the other has and growing to resent that you're the only thing the other has and then coming to understand that your resentment was only misguided loneliness and misery and heartbreak over so much lost and ultimately finding peace with each other through that fact.

4. Are there any characters who don't realize just how strongly another character feels about them, whether those feelings be positive or negative? Over the course of the story, does anything make them realize? If so, what?

LMAO well. Vera and Andhira really fucking hate each other. Until they don't. They definitely hate each other initially for good reasons. They both are a paragon of what the other hates most. Vera hates Andhira because vampires ruined her entire fucking life (even if she personally had nothing to do with it), and Andhira hates Vera because humankind has spent thousands of years trying to wipe vampires off the face of the earth (even if half the time vampires are the ones who called for the hunts). Over time, they both learn that their preconceived notions of each other's lives are mostly false, and that they... kind of directed their hatred at the wrong targets lol

Honorable mention goes to Yixing being like “damn okay I only thought Ciaran was like. in love with me or whatever. Not that he wanted to burn down the world in my name to keep my delicate mortal body safe.” He didn't realize shit was getting out of hand until it was too late ._. I mean. It's not his fault because nobody else did either and Ciaran made a series of very logical leaps and bounds from “okay I will do anything to keep you safe” to, um “I'm going to rip the soul out of every person who has ever or could ever hurt you and I will find the only god left and I will rip out her soul too for good fucking measure because it will make me better at keeping you safe.” Like. We've all been there lol

9. Are there any two characters who pretend to feel differently about each other than they do? Does anything force them to reveal their real feelings?

Um lol Vera lies to everyone about how she absolutely most certainly does NOT care for Andhira in any way because “she's so. Ugh. Like. What? No. I hate her. I mean, yes I did return to the job I swore I'd never do again because she broke into my house and asked me very nicely and because we both share horrific nightmares. The fact that she's the most beautiful woman I've ever seen has nothing to do with it. It's actually because my uncles told me I should help her. Nothing to do with anything else. Did I mention she fucking sucks. Blood. Get it? She's a vampire and I hate her.” It doesn't take long for either of them to warm up to each other but they're both super in denial about it for a whole host of reasons, and what finally happens is that (in dramatic gay fashion of course) Andhira basically takes a bullet for Vera, and she's all upset thinking she's been grievously injured and is like “why tf would you risk your life for me? I thought you fucking hated me” and Andhira is like. “Well. I did it because I'm virtually impervious to harm but also why do you think I hate you? I care about you, even if you're a huge asshole to me at every turn” and then they're both like. hm. Maybe we don't hate each other as much as we thought we did. And we were just keeping up appearances because we thought the other still felt that way.

And my honorable mention goes to my closeted gay climbing girl Wren who thinks she is just very good friends with her supremely dykey world-famous climbing friend. She doesn't realize that like. it isn't just friendship until they're climbing together and Ulli offers to tie her in because she's already chalked up (which. Having someone tie you in or untie your rope before/after a climb is like. unbelievably intimate lol yes I speak from experience). And they're both looking at each other like. um. is anyone else getting a gay vibe?

#oc talk #slowly introducing my lesbian rock climbing agenda..... drip feeding the characters into the mix as it were......#really there are like. no other fleshed out characters in that project yet lol #im just going to let them come to me as i write it next month #all i have are the two main characters and ulli's weird brother who's like 20 years older than her #and wren's parents and two siblings #her siblings are named dove and robin lmao

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incorrect-ikevamp-quotes · 4 years

Note

What type of kids do you think the ikevamp guys would be if they went to high school?

Oh boy HERE WE GO

(Under a cut bc this post is a Long Boi^TM)

Napoleon. Would prbly be that kid that’s like somehow bafflingly in the top ten of his class but nobody ever sees him??? Like he’s always late to school or napping in the quietest places on campus (they found him in a locker once and the school was laughing about it for WEEKS bc he insisted he was just chillin, and it wasn’t like a bullying incident he just wanted to sleep LMAO). Surprisingly amiable? A lot of people are afraid of him at first but he’s just so casual and direct, he gains quite a few friends (and a good number of girls have a crush on him--he always diverts the attention of skeevy guys). Good friends with Jeanne because they fence together a lot, and people are always baffled at how easily they chat

Mozart. Where do I begin. Number one in his class, perfectionist prick. That one kid that’s a known prodigy and that everyone hates for his impeccable grades and musical talent. Always gets the solos and conducting roles in the school performances. He knows how to play a crowd--will always be sweet and cherubic in front of teachers. But when it’s just the students? All gloves are off. Frigid and incendiary, will not take any shit and will tear you apart with words in milliseconds. Do not cross. He will end your entire life and self-esteem, it’s not worth it. Has a few friends, and they often experience the disdain of jealous students--but they’re all steadfast about defending him. And Mozart will not tolerate it if people are mistreating his friends, he’s an iron wall of defense; to be his friend means to always have someone looking out for you, make no mistake. He and Jeanne often grab food together after practice and ask about each others day, they hella close but never really show it while school’s on--their class schedules are worlds apart bc of their grades, and at lunch they’re usually practicing/doing hw. When they hug it out at graduation and pat each other on the back everyone nearly falls the fuck out of their chair LMFAO

Leonardo. That kid that 100% could probably be in the top fifty of his class but just can’t be bothered to give a damn. Always argues points with his teachers and plays devil’s advocate until they are inches from exploding at him. Always the one to mercifully make class feel shorter with his absolute distraction-heavy shitfuckery (and sometimes you really learn something because of his line of thinking). He's a dumbass but like harmless, essentially. Used to be the perfect student^TM and then decided the system was bullshit and he wanted no part of it, thinks public education can kiss his ass. Nobody knows it since he asks people not to talk about it, but he tutors kids after school for hours--has brought kids from Ds to Bs. He always dodges nosy people, never goes to parties, and finds ways to intervene around kids that are struggling with smth (with ninja stealth of course). Despite how easily he laughs and chats with just about anyone, he’s...actually surprisingly v much a lone wolf. Only ever consistently hangs out with the heartthrob rich kid, but nobody understands why???? And they’re always roasting each other wtf, are they even friends????

Comte. Pretty boy genius, always in the top five of his class though doesn’t seem too worried about it or obsessed with rank as students often are. It’s more that his parents have high expectations for his future as their heir, so he tends to fall in line with it. Born into money but somehow....not an asshole??? He doesn’t really like showing off, tries to be quiet about his accomplishments but his parents won’t really allow it--and he’s the star of the soccer team so it can be hard to hide. Most often the one at a party trying to help people sober up (always designated driver) or hearing his friends out when they have a problem. Has never publicly tried to bust heads, but some of the guys in the school insist he’s got a dark side--probably because he threatened them (passive aggressively) within an inch of their lives for being disgusting to girls. But nobody believes them bc...I mean look at him, does that look like a threat?? He just bought that kid’s lunch for christ’s sake. TONS of girls ask him out and confess their feelings, and he always lets them down as gently as he can--conceivably doesn’t like anyone himself, as far as the student body knows. Like Leonardo he’s v amiable, but also manages to reveal nothing personal while getting close. Leonardo’s the only one that’s managed to scratch the surface, and the kid won’t leave him alone for some godforsaken reason. And yet, he seems to enjoy their minutes of banter more than the hours of time spent with “friends”

Arthur. Oh boy. Good lord. Well. He used to be a sweetheart that would always seek out the mousier students and bring them into discussion/involve them on the playground. But alas, Teenage Jadedness^TM hit him like a train and now he’s an incorrigible flirt and believes no single person can be good deep down (somebody get this bitch some eyeliner). Believes the world will always be a cruel and unfeeling place where victims are never heard, so he just kind of goes full skeptical and bitter (think Sylvain for those of you that are FE fans). Has fun with every girl he sees (usually dating several girls at once) and doesn’t much care for his grades, but somehow has perfect scores in English?? He insists it’s because he needs to keep his seduction game on par with the voices of older legends before him, but some of the girls that see him in the library from time to time--v serious--are struck by how attractive he is in such deep focus, entirely uncharacteristic of his nosy and boisterous behavior in the halls (can often be seen whirling around Isaac like a bird of prey while our little baby robin Isaac stiffly tries to get away from him, and Dazai often joins to make things even more chaotic bc why not? In reality they just love this feisty kid that never gives up on what’s right, even though they’ve both given up trying themselves)

Dazai. He’s one of those kids that like does weed regularly but is also like...alarmingly insightful?? Like those kids I was always told to avoid, but now and again I would have conversations with out of necessity and was just...kinda shook. I mean granted he’s a little weird but he’s fairly harmless?? He’s like a class clown but on a massive scale--there’s nobody in the place that doesn’t know who he is, that haven’t heard tales of his exploits (he always comes in through the windows and gets detention for it a lot, and he even brought a chicken with him to school once????) nobody gets what he’s doing at any moment (don’t even know if he does really, chaotic mofo) and honestly nobody wants to know they just do the side eye meme when he appears or laughs. The teachers lament his untapped potential or just hate him for making their lives an even bigger headache than usual, and his grades are...yeah let’s not look at those. Organized the senior prank with absolute GLEE, and it was talked about for ages after he was gone--an inspiration chaotic bastards everywhere

Theodorus. (I hate.......that I pictured him in those like Vineyard Vine white boy clothes.......for the record its mostly bc his parents force him to wear them). All business. This kid doesn’t have time for your bullshit, will absolutely walk away if you’re boring him or seeking social clout. Popular because he’s hot and has a mean streak a mile wide, all the girls that didn’t like Mozart for being ethereal and effeminate boomeranged to find Theo ready to fulfill their hopes and dreams. They only grow more feral when rumors of him actually being fairly nice one on one--and telling creeps to fuck off of vulnerable girls at parties--start to circulate. (If he isn’t with Vincent, Arthur is probably near. Nobody understands how the two are brothers????) Van Gogh name apparently is just “I can be your angel or i can be your devil” and no one understands how... Grades are average and he’s plenty capable, most of his time is spent working after school because his parents refuse to provide Vincent with any artistic materials (canvas, paints, etc). They ask him to go to parties more, but he only goes to piss his parents off (he’s v lowkey punk and it’s understandably sexy of him). Will literally only listen to Vincent, and got in a looooot of trouble after getting into a fistfight with Shakespeare. Only stopped because his parents blamed Vincent for the incident, and Vincent apologized and went quiet for days ;-;

Vincent. Always been quiet and shy, but he doesn’t dislike ppl--he just has a hard time speaking up now and again. His parents always talk over him and tell him nothing he has to say has any real value, so he tends to struggle with a lot of self-doubt. Not isolated because he’s not likeable, it’s more because people tend to take advantage of his mild and earnest nature--until Theo runs them off. He’s on amiable terms with most people but has no real, true friends and it makes him feel lonely a lot. Mostly copes with the emotional turmoil by painting as much as he can. His grades are average, he does reliably well but can often be found daydreaming or distracted. Theo tends to escort him everywhere because of his propensity to attract danger (namely Shakespeare) or walk into things cuz he’s in his head a lot. A few of the artsier girls and the quiet academic girls have HUGE crushes on him (he’s softspoken, sweet, and calm; come on now), but he’s so distant--and honestly nice to everyone in equal measure--that they don’t have much hope of it coming to fruition. This kid deadass doesn’t think a single girl would ever like him that way so he’s just c:???????? when Theo talks about “those nosy harpies coming after my brother”

Jeanne. EDGY MCEDGE. Isn’t amazing in the academic department, but he’s a killer fencer--the rallying cry of the entire team. He became leader his sophomore year and he’s pretty much the only reason they keep destroying at tournaments throughout the year. Despite the pervasive interest in him he intimidates most people away with his swift intensity and ironclad stoicism. Silent as a grave and very still, people are convinced he’s the Grim Reaper reincarnated (listen he’s juST A DUTIFUL BABIE N O). If he isn’t fencing or practicing, Isaac often offers him help in the library after school hours in one of the study rooms (can’t be seen who’s inside from the outside). The two develop a kind of uncanny bond; they’re both so...bad at human-ing that they find a lot of comfort in the atmosphere they create. There’s none of the bullshit grandstanding or clout obsession, just them genuinely trying to help each other (yes Jeanne absolutely teaches Isaac self-defense moves in order to crush the kids that pick on him, and Jeanne often either glares or outright threatens those students when Isaac isn’t looking). Only ever smiles or feels understood when he’s hanging out with Mozart, so he cherishes the time Mozart offers him to hang (he knows the kid is busy up to his eyeballs and under a ton of pressure by comparison, his parents don’t care much as long as they can brag about his fencing records)

Isaac. Mega nerd that just...does not know how to interact. Only understands math and DESTROYS in competitive math club, but otherwise is always alone at lunch or just in the library. A little bean pole because he doesn’t look after himself very well (neglects to eat a lot) and can sometimes be found asleep on his books. If approached he will be very thorny, doesn’t have any friends to speak of and trusts everyone about as far as he can throw them. Yells at Arthur and Dazai a lot when they flock around him, and has gotten into his fair share of fights. Never starts fights, but will finish them. People are surprised he can hold his own, and he comes away with blood that ain’t his. There are a few girls that are curious about him, but its mostly the ones that have seen his awkward thoughtfulness in club--or the girls that are sick of the assholes and appreciate how stalwart he is. He really just wants to be left in peace (his parents never show up to his meets or when he wins academic awards, and the few teachers that notice are pretty concerned abt his reactivity and complete lack of social savvy...) Leonardo always helps him sneak in at night to look at the stars on the school roof

Shakespeare is p much the like “kid most anticipated to be in jail as soon as they’re out of high school” He just. Has that like...serial killer vibe??? Idk if I’m explaining this well but he was that guy that would always cling to genuinely compassionate girls just trying to be nice like a LEECH, and would never fucking shut up if he did or didn’t get attention. You just can't win with this kid. Probably wanted to kill the kids that made fun of him or at the very least wanted to lash out against the confident/popular/nice kids. Only liked you if he didn’t deem you a threat, or if you didn’t make him insecure, or if you tolerated him (aka Vincent. Vincent PLEASE stop trying to reach out to dangerous ppl....I love you too much to watch this shit...) He admitted as much to Theo and the kid went livid with rage and pummeled him into the ground, though most of the rest of the student body doesn’t know quite what happened. (Theo refuses to explain to anyone, and just walks away if asked). Shakespeare will just change the subject endlessly and make passive aggressive threats until the person leaves if they try to bring it up. The only time the entire class has EVER seen Leonardo mad is when Shakespeare kept tailing this girl that wanted no part of him

Sebastian. Nerdy like Isaac, but is more of the silent observer type. Like Theo, doesn't want any part of the bullshit but won't be as blunt or outspoken about it, he's only open about it if pressed or pissed off. Doesn't have much patience for the clique-driven nature of high school and tends to take an interest in the people who stand out beyond the mind-numbing drama. Also is in the top fifty but studies like a lunatic, and can often be seen asking Comte for tips now and again. Has tried talking to Mozart and admires his talents, but Mozart gives a cold shoulder that would put Antarctica to shame. (Leonardo tries to ninja him into taking breaks but never succeeds). Has a great deal of disdain for the troublemakers (Arthur and Dazai) but doesn't intervene, just watches shit go down and sighs. Probably the most normal(?) one of the bunch, just does his best and keeps his head down

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okboomr · 3 years

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“Things must get easier for the Puffs and Ruffs as they get older right?”

#( my sexuality is boom yelling 'get the hell off our side of the island!' bc him yelling that about their side of townsville )#“ ━━ ◤ i spent my life loving and hating my brothers with equal measure ; the rowdyruff boys. ◢#“ ━━ ◤ you girls are gonna eat your words spit em out then eat em again ; powerpuff girls. ◢#“ ━━ ◤ do you know what the definition of a hero is; someone who gets others killed ; study. ◢

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sgrayonderii · 4 years

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trials of izanagi

SSM20 #8: Let’s play pretend

Sakura tells Sasuke the reasons why they should get married. RTN!AU (Rated T)

When his father calls for a family meeting, Sasuke half fears it’s been finally revealed that he was the one that burned down the garden shed and not the neighborhood teens as he claimed.

But when his mother also arrives with a stern expression, Sasuke realizes this is worse than a bit of light arson.

He fidgets at the dining table nervously as he watches his father nod to his mother to begin.

“As you know,” she starts, “you are getting to age where one should consider settling down.”

Sasuke groans.

“Mother!” But she raises her hand to silence him.

“Sasuke, this is a good opportunity for you and the clan.”

“What about Aniki?”

His mother’s face adopts a sour look, not pleased to be interrupted. “Your brother has his own duties. You should only concern yourself with your own.”

Sasuke tries to protest once again but his mother’s stony features leave no room for argument.

“I’d expect you not to embarrass yourself or the clan,” Her expression is one of usual exasperation at his antics. “Sasuke, it is time for you to grow up.”

---

Sasuke has always been quite bitter that his brother is allowed to gallivant around the countryside with his band of questionable acquaintances while the responsibilities of their clan are dumped onto him.

And it’s not that he doesn’t want to get married either! Having spent so much of his life devoted to his family’s whims, Sasuke at least wants to choose who he wants to spend his life with.

Secretly, he quite enjoys the daydreams where he comes home to have a quiet night with the love of his life and what he is sure to be their small squadron of children.

So Sasuke comes up with a plan.

He supposes if he makes himself an utter unmarriageable fool, this nonsense would be over. Even a name as prestigious as Uchiha would not be enough to secure an engagement if he is the most undesirable human being in the world.

So the day of the marriage interview, he tries to look like the failure his family assumes he is. Sasuke puts on a sweat suit he wore out to training two days ago paired with his sandals and mismatched fuzzy socks. He doesn’t brush his teeth and doesn’t even style his hair. He even spends a few days trying to grow a beard.

Sasuke looks like an absolute disaster. Which is quite a hard thing to do he might add; curse his beautiful face!

He arrives at the casual diner he had chosen feeling confident and clever, because what could be more disappointing to start off a potential marriage than a place he knows has more health violations than he has fingers?

That is until he realizes who his mother managed to set him up with.

Sakura-chan, beautiful as ever, is sitting in the sticky booth the hostess leads him to with a cup of what he is sure is black coffee.

Sasuke immediately regrets every life choice he has ever made. He wonders whether activating the Izanami right now would save him from dying of embarrassment.

A thousand thoughts are running through his head all at once. Is this a joke? What is Sakura-chan doing here? What about Menma? Should he turn around and walk out like nothing happened?

However she glances up at him with those lovely eyes of hers and Sasuke cannot help but blurt out the most pressing thing tumbling around in his short-circuiting brain.

“I thought you wanted to get married for love?!”

Not missing a beat, “Good morning to you too, Sasuke. I see you know how to impress a lady.”

Sasuke wonders if he can throw himself out the window.

But his pride dictates that he cannot embarrass himself anymore in front of Konoha’s fairest, so he squares up, grits his teeth, and slides into the booth.

“Don’t change the subject,” taking in her own outfit. White coat and business casual. So it must be clinic day. “Why are you here Sakura-chan?”

He cannot think of any reason why Sakura would suddenly want to marry him; Sasuke has always considered the greatest tragedy and irony in his life is the fact that the love of his life does not feel the same way. So he waits for her explanation.

Sakura, to her credit, always is cool and collected and is logical to a fault. She does not shy away from his questioning facing him directly to answer.

“Your mother asked me to consider a marriage into the Uchiha clan.”

Sasuke rolls his eyes, “Just because you two get along doesn’t mean you have to humor her, especially when it comes to getting married!”

She takes a sip of her coffee, now not quite looking at him. Almost guilty. “She told me that if I married either you or Itachi-san, your clan would back my bid for Hokage.”

Anger bubbles in his stomach. Envy burns down his throat. Betrayal is bitter on his tongue. It is one thing for his mother to meddle in his life, it’s another for Sakura to be so callous as to use his love for power.

“Why are you meeting me then?” His brother might be a flighty vagabond, but Itachi is the heir and he is the spare.

She seems to understand what he is truly asking. “Sasuke, you are a rising star in the Konoha. The people of this village trust you greatly.”

“You can’t stand me.”

“You’re annoying but I don’t hate you.” She smiles sadly, as if enjoying a particularly cruel joke. “I don’t think I could hate you, truly.”

“Sakura-chan, with all due respect, between your father and the Fifth’s recommendation, I don’t think you need my family at all.”

Sasuke takes a deep calming breath to hide his frustration, trying to act nonchalant, “But if you still want to get hitched Kitten, I’m all for it.” He even throws in a lighthearted wink.

She ignores his last comment. “My father and Tsunade-shishou are popular with the people, but the council is not fond of either of them. Too peace loving apparently.”

“My family isn’t very popular with the council either.”

“But the Uchiha clan is one of the oldest clans in Konoha, its influence is enough to convince other families. Enough to over rule the council.” Sakura smiles wryly, “In return, the Uchiha clan will have ties with the Hokage office. Think of it as a strategic alliance.”

This is just like Sakura, cold and calculating. Sasuke does not hate it; her ambitions are part of her charm.

“What’s in it for me then?”

“If you do accept, your parents would be satisfied you are an upstanding, successful citizen and will no longer have any right prying in your affairs.”

He doubts that it would stop them but allows her to continue, “I also don’t plan to…interfere with your extramarital activities.” Sasuke begins to feel a sense of dread as Sakura continues, “A marriage of convenience if you will.”

This is his boiling point and he finds himself shouting.

“No, it’s a sham! How you could have completely given up on love?!”

Sakura is a woman who has always been loved shallowly and one can only be the object of admiration for long before realizing it’s only empty reverence. The one thing she always craved is the unconditional love she lost so long ago along when her parents passed. Sasuke cannot believe Sakura can give up that so easily.

“You’re the one who doesn’t understand anything Charasuke!” She is now equally angry, “Do you think I want to use my husband’s name to get the Hokage’s seat!? How everything I’ve spent my life working for amounts to nothing in the eyes of the council?! ”

“It doesn’t mean you have to sacrifice your own happiness for this!” Because even now, even though his affections for her are unyielding and painful and true, he just wants her to be happy.

To find love and be loved, even if it isn’t with him.

“I’m running out of time!” She is shaking now, in anger, in frustration, in a hopelessness Sasuke has never seen. “Tsunade -shishou told me that the council is considering making Menma the Hokage after she retires.”

“Menma? What? He can barely carry conversation!” And he is impulsive. Just as likely to start a war as he is to end it.

Sakura looks sick, “Menma has a strong shinobi, but that’s all he is. He is not suited for politics. He only knows how to end conflicts with shows of strength.”

“Do you really think that Menma will actually accept the position?” Because regardless of their disagreements, Menma is still his best friend. Menma isn’t the type to seek power wantonly.

“Maybe, maybe not. But he is now married to the Hyuuga family. And you know how easily he can be influenced.”

Sasuke wants to defend his friend’s honor but he admits she has a point.

“So when your mother came to me about this...I don’t know I just thought this might be my only chance.

I know this is unfair to you, which is why we can just pretend to be a married couple in name only. You are under no obligation to change your ways Sasuke.”

Sakura is resigned to her fate to a supposedly loveless marriage and Sasuke hates it.

“But I cannot let Menma and the council turn this village into a battlefield. I cannot let them ruin my parent’s legacy.”

This is insane. It’s not right. She may be the logical one, but he has always been the romantic.

This is not at all how he imagines their life together would be.

Sakura takes in his uncharacteristic silence as the end of the conversation and gathers her things.

“You don’t have to answer me right now, just think about it.” And with that she departs, leaving him alone in the booth.

---

Sasuke has always pretended that his family’s obvious favoritism and Sakura’s indifference towards him, never bothered him.

He distracts himself with pretty girls and pretty flowers. But really, he just does not have the courage to face the reality of being the fallback and second place.

That no matter what he does or how hard he works, he will never measure up to the Uchiha’s prodigal son or even his best friend.

He just wants someone to look at him and only him.

And maybe that's why he has always been so drawn to Sakura, the daughter of fallen heroes.

Because maybe she just also wanted someone to see her tears. To realize what was underneath her facade.

The pretty girl who cries when she is alone so she doesn’t bother anyone else, yet in front of the rest of the world is the image of stunning grace and confidence. Who heals him when he bleeds and listens to him when he cannot bear the expectations of his family anymore.

He admires her bravery. He falls for her kindness.

Sasuke loves her, he has for a long time.

He wonders if she knows this.

And so that’s why he is waiting outside the clinic later that afternoon, in his best clothes, clean shaven, with a bouquet of lavender flowers.

No more pretenses.

He will give her his name, the world, and their marriage will be anything but loveless. He will make sure of it.

A/N: This was an AU of another AU WIP that went of the rails. Thank you for reading! Happy SSM20 and stay safe!

#sasusaku #SSM20 #SSM20d8 #sasusaku month #sasusaku fanfiction #Sasuke Uchiha #sakura haruno #sgrayonderii #sgrayonder #hope the tags are working!

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massivelycreepypineapple · 4 years

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Desperate Measures

Request: hey i love your works. i have a super weird request. what if there is one time where dean gets drunk and hooks up with this random woman while being in a relationship with reader. the reader finally knows about it but she only thought that dean kissed that woman. they were fighting in the impala, and dean finally slipped it out and so they fight even more. the reader becomes sad and doesnt leave her bed for weeks n sam becomes worried but the reader doesn't want to meet anyone so sam and dean hide in her room to see what she does at night and all they see is the reader crying. she eventually has a panic attack and calls her hunter friends and so they sneak in through a window...? idek man its up to you for the ending.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

A/N: God writing about Dean cheating really broke my heart! But I hope this is okay, Anon! I’m sorry if it’s not what you expected.

Word Count: 2755

❅ ❅ ❅

Dean had reached a point in his life that he had to drink a ton to get properly wasted. A struggle he found himself with one night at the library. He was running out of liquor and he was at most barely drunk. Which wasn’t enough to hide the pain, the shame and the guilt spreading through him like wildfire. It didn’t help that Sam refused to look at him and his girlfriend of three years refused to answer his calls saying she needed time away from him.

He finished what little was left of the whiskey suddenly getting up and smashing the bottle against the wall. He was breathing heavily and his legs felt wobbly. He shut his eyes trying not to think about the pain he inflicted on his girl. Maybe she wasn’t even that anymore. But the memories forced themselves upon him, making him relive every piece of shit thing he had done and said to her two weeks ago.

-flashback-

“Y/N! I’m so so sorry! It was a mistake that never should’ve happened!” Dean begged her as he followed her out of the bar.

“Save it you fucking dick.” She snapped at him and got into the Impala.

Dean stood outside her door for a few seconds trying not to panic. The way her words sounded pierced through his heart. Never had she used that tone with him. He took a couple of seconds and then made his way to the driver’s side and got in. He gripped the wheels tight, He was angry and upset and scared.

“Take me home.” Y/N said icily. “And I mean my home. Not the bunker.”

Y/N had her own house, a small little cabin on the outskirts that the three often frequented to get away for a bit.

Dean didn’t say anything or move.

“Take me home, Dean!” She yelled at him.

“Would you let me explain!” He roared back at her.

She gave him an incredulous look. “Explain?! Are fucking serious? You really think I want to hear what went through your stupid head that convinced you to hurt me?!”

She was tearing up. He hated that he did this to her. He hated that stupid whore in the bar who came up to him a week ago. He hated that he was so drunk, he just went with it. He hated that she was there again this time and said something in front of Y/N. He hated himself.

“I didn’t think, okay!” He yelled. “I was so far gone! The hunt fucked me up and I needed to drink. I didn’t even know what I was doing! I never should’ve gone home with her!”

Y/N froze beside him. She started at him wide eyes. Tears quickly making their way down her face. “Y-you had sex with her?” She whispered stunned.

Dean could almost hear her heart shatter. He didn’t know what to say. He stared back at her equally wide eyed.

“I t-thought you k-knew that?” He asked hesitantly.

Y/N just looked at him with the most broken look on her face. She looked down at her fingers for a while. The silence was deafening.

“Take me home.” She said suddenly no emotions in her voice.

“Y/N…”

“Take. Me. Home.” She said even more icily compared to the last time.

Dean knew not to argue with her. He knew he fucked up big time. He just wanted to take back the last one week. He drove her home and watched with a shattered look as she slammed the car door and went inside without looking back. He drove back to the bunker, a broken man.

-flashback end-

Sam walked into the library with some grocery bags. “What’s wrong with you, Dean?!” He snapped at him noticing the broken bottle. “Stop throwing glass around! It’s always me cleaning up your mess!” That stung dean. It was as if he meant it in more ways than one.

“Leave me alone, Sam.” His gruff voice slurred. “You’ve been doing it for weeks anyway.” He mumbled.

Dean didn’t say anything when Sam chewed him out when he first found out. He didn’t bother getting him to talk to him when Sam iced him out too. He knew Sam and Y/N were best friends. She was like a sister to him and he’d do anything to protect her. So he wasn’t surprised when he got punched in the face by Sam.

Dean sat down on the chair staring into space. He barely noticed Sam take a seat at the table.

“She won’t talk, she won’t answer my calls and she refuses to leave her room.” Sam said quietly.

“Why are you telling me this, Sammy?” Scoffed Dean.

“Because I’m worried about her. Because you want to and need to know. I’m beyond angry at you, Dean. But I also love you and care about you too. I-I know you made a mistake. I can see it eating you up more than anything.”

Dean chuckles humourlessly, “What do you want me to do, eh Sammy? She refuses to talk to me. The last thing she said and I quote ‘Leave me alone, I can’t stand to look at your face.’ And that was almost two weeks ago.”

He still remembered that conversation with Y/N.

-flashback-

Dean stepped onto Y/N’s porch and rang the bell. He hadn’t spoken to her in few days since he dropped her off here. Not that he didn’t try. He initially gave her space, but he needed to talk to her. He needed her to know just how sorry he was. But she refused to answer his calls. Which was why he was here desperate to see her.

The door creaked open a tad and Y/N’s messy head came into view. When she realised it was Dean she was about the close the door again but he stopped her.

“Please just let me talk, Y/N. I just need you to know how sorry I am. Please!” He begged her.

She looked down at the floor, a single tear slipped our her eyes. Dean’s heart broke at that. All he wanted was to keep her from feeling this pain. He wanted to travel back in time just so he could undo his mistake.

“Y/N…I love you so much. I hate that I did this to you. Please let me in, I just want to talk.”

“Leave me alone, Dean. I can’t stand to look at your face right now.” She said, her voice was horse from crying.

Dean wanted to cry right then, he deserved it. He deserved her hate, she deserved so much better than him. He was a piece of shit for doing this to her. He sighed and looked at his feet, his eyes getting blurry.

“Okay.” He whispered and turned. He flinched as the door slammed shut.

-flashback end-

“I’m really worried about her Dean. I went to see her on my way back and she didn’t even flinch or move from her bed. I don’t think she’s been eating either.” Said Sam with his puppy dog eyes.

Sam spent the last two weeks checking up on Y/N often. He even ended up spending more time at her cabin, away from his brother. But the last few days he was back at the bunker after realising that Dean had completely let himself go.

Dean looked at Sam, “I don’t know how to help, Sammy. I tried to make it right. Fuck, I’m still trying man. I think doing what she says will help, so I’m staying away.”

“I-I might have an idea.” Said Sam looking sheepish.

“What, idea?”

“It’s a little unconventional.”

“Just spit it out, Sam” Dean was exhausted and he’d do anything to make this right. He didn’t care how unconventional it was. Hell, their whole life was unconventional.

“We break into her house and see what she’s up to” He said unsure.

Dean chuckled, looking incredulous at the same time. “Who are you and what have you done to my brother?”

“I’m serious, Dean! She won’t talk to anyone, and it’s the only way to make sure she’s at least okay!”

“Sam! I’ve hurt her enough! The last thing she needs is me breaking in and ruining it more for her!” He glared at his brother, unable to believe that he would come up with such a ludicrous idea.

“And you say you care about her and want to make it better, huh?” Sam scoffed at him. “Dean, sitting here ain’t helping anyone! She’s all alone at her place man! You know deep down it’s the only way.”

Dean sighed and rubbed his face. He knew Sam was right. He clenched his jaws and looked at his brother who wouldn’t stop with the damn kicked puppy look.

“Fine. We’ll go tonight and make sure she’s fine.”

Sam clapped him on the back and left the room to put away the groceries.

_______________________________________________________________________

They broke into her house that night. They made their way to her bedroom and put their ear against the door to see if they could hear anything. When they heard nothing they slowly opened the bedroom door and saw the bed empty and the bathroom door shut with the light on. They looked at each other and shrugged. Dean figured that maybe if she was getting out of bed, it was a good sign.

They heard movement and like a bunch of idiots, the two of them darted behind the headboard where there was space between the wall and the bed, and crouched down, hidden from Y/N. They heard her make her way back to the bed. She was crying and it broke Dean’s heart.

Had she been crying all along? Was that all she was doing, hiding from the world? How badly did he break her? He hated himself even more then, knowing this is what he caused. He looked at Sam, who had his eyes shut, unable to listen to her cries. Dean wanted to smack Sam for making him do this. They were stuck there and all they could do was sit behind her bed and listen to Y/N cry. He couldn’t take it anymore and went to get up to comfort her, but sam grabbed him, shaking his head. Dean glared at him and settled back down.

Few minutes later they heard her breathing change, it sounded as if she was going into a panic attack. This worried Dean even more. His head snapped up and he felt so helpless sitting there while the love of his life was suffering because of him.

He had had enough and just as he was about to get up, he heard her call someone.

“C-Charlie?” Her voice was breathy. “I n-need you.”

It would seem Charlie had said something on the other side.

“Okay. C-can you come in through the window?” Y/N managed to get out. “I think Sam’s here.”

Charlie said something before Y/N thanked her and cut the call.

Dean and Sam looked at each other wide eyed. If Charlie was coming, they’d be in serious trouble. She’d sniff them out like a bloodhound and not to mention, Dean was going to get his ass handed to him. Assuming she knew what he did.

20mins later they heard boots thud against the floor. Charlie had snuck in.

“Y/N!” She ran towards her, pulling her into a hug on the bed. “Oh Y/N…” She comforted her as Y/N cried into her shoulders.

“Breathe for me, babe. It’s going to be alright.” Charlie coaxed her into breathing again, stopping her from having another panic attack.

“I-I’m sorry” whispered Y/N hoarsely.

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for. Dean needs to get his ass whooped to hell and back!” She said fiercely,

Dean gulped at that. Charlie could be scary if she needed to be. But he didn’t disagree with her. He would happily let his ass get whooped if it meant Y/N would see he was sorry.

“I don’t know what to do, Charlie. I love him so much, and what he did hurts just as much. I want to forgive him. He’s tried to apologise and I can see he’s sorry. But how do I move past it? How do I stop feeling this pain?”

“You guys have been together for three years now. Y/N, as much as I want to hurt Dean for doing this to you, the only way you can move on is if you talk to him. Even if it’s to break up, you need to look him in the eye and tell him how you feel.”

“I don’t know if I can do that.”

“Right now no matter what you do, you won’t feel better about it. The only one to make you feel better is Dean. And-“ Charlie stopped suddenly and looked towards the headboard.

“Charlie, what’s wrong?” Y/N asked getting alert herself.

Dean and Sam looked at each other afraid that they had gotten caught. They heard guns being drawn and cocked. Suddenly Dean found himself on the receiving end of the barrel of the gun.

“Woah woah! Charlie don’t shoot!” He yelled, while Sam did the same towards Y/N who too had a gun drawn.

The girls were glaring fiercely at the brothers and there was a tensed silence.

“What the fuck, Winchesters!?” Yelled Charlie.

“I know! I know, I’m sorry! We aren’t supposed to be here, but it was all Sam’s idea!” Dean was desperate to get her to drop the gun.

“Thanks man” came Sam’s reply.

“Is this some sick joke to you?! You cheat on her and now you spy on her?!”

“Charlie, came down.” Y/N said softly, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Sam, why did you guys come here?” She couldn’t look at Dean yet so instead talked to Sam.

“We were worried about you, Y/N. You wouldn’t talk or answer our calls. I stayed here with you for more than a week and I still didn’t get any response from you. We needed to know if you were ok, we didn’t plan on hiding. It just happened when you came out of the shower.”

Y/N sighed and crossed the room to sit on the bed. “So you heard everything huh?” She asked quietly not looking at anyone.

But Dean knew it was meant for him. He took a step towards her and stopped, wondering is he should. It was wrong of him to even be here at the moment. Charlie and Sam slowly made their way out of the room to give them space to talk.

“Don’t hurt her anymore, Winchester.” Threatened Charlie before closing the door.

Dean stood there, feeling awkward and scared. He didn’t know how this was going to go. He thought she surely hated him but hearing her say otherwise, brought hope in him. Maybe he could earn her forgiveness after all.

“I want to move past this.” Y/N’s voice came softly, surprising him. “I understand it was a mistake. But I have to know. Why?”

Dean took a seat beside her, leaving some space in case she wanted to be away from him still. He rubbed his face taking a deep breathe.

“It was a really bad hunt. It was a shifter and he took your form and made me hurt you and then kill you. And I went to the bar after and got really wasted. When she approached me, I didn’t even think if it was you or not. I just needed something. I needed then and there. But I never meant to hurt you, baby. I made a huge mistake. And I’m so so sorry. I’d take it back in a heartbeat.” He said.

“I know you’re sorry, Dean. But I don’t know how to move past this.” She said so sadly.

“I want to do anything and everything I can to make it up to you sweetheart.” He looked at her. “I love you.”

Y/N looked back at him with a frown. “It’s gonna take a lot of sucking up, Winchester.”

“Yeah. I won’t let you down ever again. I promise.”

Y/N shuffled closer and rested her head against his shoulder. He rested his against her head. They sat there for a while just being in that bubble. Maybe things just might work out in the end.

❅ ❅ ❅

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@hobby27 @akshi8278

#supernatural #supernatural fic #supernatural x reader #spn #spn fic #spn x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #reader insert #female reader #angst #dean winchester #y/n

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madasthesea · 4 years

Text

Trope: Jealousy

“You’re not my brother.”

Peter blinks at the little dark haired girl in front of him. He’d met Morgan a couple times, in the hospital with Tony. She’d been shy, but sweet, so this is unexpected. “Um, no, I—I’m not.”

Morgan eyes him for a moment, her eyebrows furrowed in aggravation. “Daddy calls you my brother, but you aren’t.”

“O-ok.”

Tony walks in then, his face creased in exhaustion and pain. The burns on his face pull down one side of his mouth in a perpetual frown.

But the heaviness is temporary. The second he sees Peter and Morgan his eyes light up, the frown twists up into a half-smile. He looks younger.

Peter’s heart flips in his chest at the sight, grief and gratitude in equal measure. Tony meets his eyes and his eyebrows crease like he can hear Peter’s thoughts. Tony takes a breath and opens his mouth—

“Daddy!” Morgan cries. Peter flinches as the moment is abruptly shattered.

“Hello, little miss,” Tony says, casually scooping her up into his good arm, propping her on his hip and kissing her cheek, making her giggle. “Have you been playing with Pete?”

They hadn’t been, really, but Morgan nods all the same. Tony carries her into the kitchen to begin lunch, leaving Peter alone in the living room.

Morgan roars as she brings her stuffed dragon down on the Lego castle Peter had helped her build. Peter fakes terrified screaming, making Morgan laugh.

Morgan seems to like Peter well enough when it’s just the two of them. She’ll play with him and watch movies, and on the rare occasion Tony and Pepper go out she’ll listen when he tells her it’s time for bed. But the second Tony is involved, Morgan gets fiercely protective of his attention and easily annoyed with Peter, as if he’s a babysitter who’s no longer needed once her dad’s home.

It’s not like Peter doesn’t know why Morgan doesn’t like him—she’s spent her whole life with Tony by her side every minute of every day and now suddenly Tony’s attention is divided. She’s an only child, she isn’t used to having to share. And she’s too young to know how to vocalize her jealousy to her dad. But it makes life pretty awkward for Peter. He can’t just turn down all of Tony’s invitations to visit, nor does he want to. He loves being around Tony, cherishes the time they spend together. But now, more often than not, it’s interrupted by Morgan throwing a tantrum or dragging Tony away to play with her.

Last week, Morgan had tried to follow them into the lab—where she knows she is absolutely not allowed to go—and had been so upset when she couldn’t come with that they had ended up foregoing lab time altogether and spent the afternoon having a tea party instead, with Tony and Peter sending each other baleful looks as they sipped their imaginary beverages.

It comes to a head the next weekend. It isn’t one of Peter’s scheduled visits, but the minor concussion and six inch gash up his back mean that he’s at the Stark cabin anyway, Tony having sent a suit to fish him out of a rain drenched dumpster.

“I’m fine, Mr. Stark,” Peter says for the umpteenth time as Tony vigorously dries his hair with a towel.

Tony hums in disagreement, barely listening. “’Don’t open a Med Center in Queens,’ Pepper says. ‘Peter will think you’re hovering,’ Rhodey says—”

“You are hovering,” Peter interrupts. Tony just keeps muttering.

“They aren’t the ones that have to fly to the city twice a week to drag an unconscious, bleeding, delirious Spider-kid all the way back to the freaking boonies—”

“I am neither unconscious nor delirious. And you weren’t even flying that suit, technically.”

“Stop talking and get your suit off, you need stitches,” Tony snaps. He tugs on Peter’s ear in annoyance, but the touch is so light it’s more of a caress than anything, belying the anger in his tone. He’s just worried. It would be more annoying if Peter wasn’t the exact same way.

Peter peels the suit off down to his waist, sitting at the kitchen island while Tony gets the supplies he needs. Peter can hear Tony washing his hands and when he does come and touch Peter’s back, his fingers are warm from the hot water.

Peter takes a deep breath and does his best to relax under Tony’s touch, rather than tense up in anticipation of the stitches.

“There you go, buddy,” Tony murmurs. His voice has entirely lost its edge now, his only concern making sure that Peter is well taken care of. “I’m thinking five or six stitches for this, not too bad.”

Peter snorts humorlessly, then curses as Tony pours antiseptic over the wound.

Peter keeps up a rambling narration of his day as Tony works, trying to distract himself. Tony responds between sutures as he threads the needle again.

He’s in the middle of the third stitch when Peter tenses half a second before—

“Daddy?”

It speaks to how often Tony has done this that he knows not to flinch. Instead he lets go of the needle and carefully pulls his hands away from Peter’s wound.

“What are doing up, little miss? It’s late.”

Morgan eyes Peter warily. She can’t see Peter’s back from her vantage point, but that also means Peter’s staring her straight in the face and can’t really move.

“I woke up and can’t fall back asleep without a story.”

“Go ask Mommy, baby, I have to help Peter with something,” Tony says, his voice soft. His puts a hand on Peter’s shoulder, warm and gentle, to assure him that he won’t leave him.

Morgan pouts. “But you always read me my story.”

“I know, but I can’t right now, ok? I’ll come up in a little bit to check on you,” Tony assures her again. Under other circumstances, Peter is sure Tony would round the island and pick her up and kiss her cheek to soften the blow, but his hands are almost certainly bloody right now, and he doesn’t want to scare her.

“But,” Morgan starts again, her pout growing even more pronounced as she glares at Peter.

“Morgan,” Tony interrupts, voice firm but not angry. “Peter needs me right now. Go get your mom.”

Morgan’s face screws up as tears start gathering in her eyes, loud sobs trailing behind her as she turns and flees up the stairs.

Peter grits his teeth.

“You can go,” he murmurs.

“Nope,” Tony says, his hands steady as he continues on to the next stitch. “Bleeding trumps crying.”

“What beats bleeding?”

“Dying.”

“Does that mean crying beats dying?” Peter asks, inhaling sharply as the thread was pulled tight.

“No.”

“This game doesn’t make sense.”

“Peter,” Tony warns in that dad voice that he perfected during the Snap. Peter glances back at him and sees his tight jaw, the way his brow wrinkles. He hates the thought of not being able to comfort his crying daughter as much as the thought of leaving Peter bleeding in his kitchen.

Peter wonders for the first time if this is hard for him too. Morgan isn’t used to having a sibling, and neither is Peter, but Tony has never been a parent to two living children before. And the way he loves is so devoted, so all consuming, Peter imagines that it’s hard having to prioritize needs when Tony’s instinct is to fix everything.

“You can go, Tony,” Peter says again.

Tony sighs, setting the suture tools down and looking up at Peter with a tired smile.

“She has to learn to share me sometime, Pete. Because if I have any say in the matter—and I do—you’re not going away any time soon.”

Peter avoids his eyes, feeling suddenly horribly guilty. If he was Morgan, and his brother-but-not-really came back from the dead, he isn’t sure how much he would like him either.

There’s quiet for a few more minutes as Tony finishes bandaging his back, then he rounds to the other side of the island, raising Peter’s chin with a finger.

“We’re all adjusting, Pete, but that doesn’t mean things were better before. I would rather have Morgan be a little jealous than go back to... missing you. Any day. Not even a question, kid.”

Peter nods jerkily.

Tony eyes him for another moment, then nods. “Alright, my love. Pajamas for you, I’ll clean up here.”

Peter stands, shaking his head. He wants to hoard Tony to himself, wants to ask for an episode of Star Trek to help him sleep, wants Tony to stay and stroke his hair and hum under his breath when he thinks Peter’s asleep.

But they’re all adjusting. And if Morgan has to share, so does Peter.

“Go check on Morgan,” Peter says. “I’ll clean up.”

He can tell Tony wants to argue out of principle, but his eyes dart to the stairs.

“Go on. Crying trumps cleaning,” Peter teases.

Tony’s face softens as he looks back at Peter. There’s so much gratitude and adoration on his face it makes Peter’s throat tighten with emotion.

“You’re a good brother, Peter,” Tony murmurs. He leans across the isle and pulls Peter’s head down so he can kiss his cheek.

Peter hums and leans into the touch. “Goodnight, Tony.”

“Night, kiddo,” Tony says, starting toward the stairs. “Don’t sleep on those stitches,” he calls over his shoulder.

Peter huffs, gathering together the soiled towels and medical supplies, moving around the kitchen like it’s his own home.

Morgan is in a bad mood the next morning, and her wary glances towards Peter have escalated into full on glares. Pepper and Tony both notice, having a silent conversation over the breakfast table that Peter can’t really understand. They spend the rest of the morning quietly putting together puzzles and coloring, but it doesn’t stop Morgan from breaking down crying no less than three times.

Finally, after lunch, Pepper takes her upstairs for a nap, whispering to Peter, “I’m so sorry, she must be tired,” as she does.

She is a bit more pleasant when she comes back, still rubbing sleep from her eyes. She even lets Peter help her build a tower out of Legos while Pepper and Tony make dinner.

It isn’t until they settle down for a movie together that Morgan’s temper really comes out.

Peter automatically gravitates to sit next to Tony, looking forward to curling into his side and dozing on his shoulder. Morgan, who’s already sitting on Pepper’s lap, frowns and crawls over Tony to take the available spot.

Peter stops short and blinks while Tony snorts. “Alright, little monkey, calm down,” he says, tugging on Morgan’s pigtail. She smiles up at him innocently.

Pepper shakes her head at her daughters antics, then holds out her arms to Peter. “Come cuddle with me, Peter, since Morgan doesn’t want to.”

Peter smiles and plops down between her and Tony and is instantly enveloped in a one armed hug from both sides. Tony’s hand lands in his hair while Pepper tugs him against her shoulder. He sighs contentedly, closing his eyes and savoring the feeling of family that surrounds him—

“No!”

Peter’s eyes fly open, jerking upright as he sees Morgan pushing herself away from her dad and standing on the couch, glowering down at Peter.

“You have your own parents,” Morgan snaps at him. “Just because they’re gone doesn’t mean you can steal mine!”

Peter’s jaw literally drops, more out of surprise than anything, but instantly a pang of hurt and grief echoes through his chest, making his breath come short. In the same second, Tony sits upright and Pepper gasps Morgan’s name.

“Morgan H. Stark, apologize to your brother,” Tony says, his voice serious and low.

“He’s not my brother!” Morgan yells, stomping her foot on the couch cushion.

Tony shoots to his feet, grabbing Morgan around the waist and hoisting her up against his shoulder.

Morgan screams, so high pitched it makes Peter’s ears fuzz out for a second. He can see Tony’s jaw twitch, but he doesn’t put her down. Peter knows that he isn’t hurting her—Tony would never, ever hurt his kids. Even in dire situations Tony is gentle with Peter and he’s certain that carries through to his daughter. But Morgan keeps screaming, tears pouring down her cheeks as Tony carries her toward the stairs.

Pepper watches looking torn, like she wants to follow, but instead she turns to Peter, reaching out and stroking his cheek with her thumb.

“Oh, honey, I’m so sorry, I don’t know...,” She trails off. “Listen, to Tony and to me, you’re our son. Alright? Morgan’s just... not used to sharing us.”

“I know,” Peter says, his voice more hoarse than he had expected. “I know, it’s ok.”

Pepper looks at him for a moment. “Oh, sweetheart,” she sighs, kissing the top of his head. “How about some cocoa, huh?”

“Sure.”

As Pepper goes to the kitchen to get cocoa started, Peter hugs a pillow to his chest and lets his hearing tune in to what’s happening upstairs.

Morgan is still audibly crying as Tony tries to quiet her. Morgan’s bed creaks as Tony sits down.

“You don’t love me anymore,” Morgan hiccups.

“Oh, baby, you know that isn’t true. You know it isn’t.”

“You sp-spend all your time with P-Peter.”

“Momo, I’m with you every day. Peter only comes for four days a month and even then we all play together. Think maybe you’re being a bit dramatic?” Classic Tony. He doesn’t sugarcoat, just tells the truth in his uniquely humorous way.

“No,” Morgan whimpers.

“Morgan,” he hears Tony sigh. Morgan’s sobs quiet down at her dad’s soft tone. There’s the sound of shifting fabric and Peter imagines Tony settling Morgan on his knee.

“Do you remember your fourth birthday?” Tony asks.

Morgan sniffles. “Yeah.”

“What did we do?”

“We had waffles and went to the dinosaur museum and I got to open a bunch of presents,” Morgan says, perking up a little bit.

“That’s right. And I let you eat cake for dinner and I gave you as many hugs and kisses as you wanted,” Tony adds, and Peter can hear the smile in his voice. He hugs the pillow a little closer to his chest.

“Do you know why I did that?” Tony asks.

“Because you love me,” Morgan reluctantly admits.

“Yeah, sweetheart. I love you so, so much.” More shifting, the soft sound of a kiss. “Now, do you remember a few weeks before that, when we went to Peter’s tree and we brought him cake and Legos and we played Spider-Man all day?”

Peter knows about his tree. One that Tony had planted in his honor after the Snap, on the edge of the lake. Tony had taken him there a couple weeks after he was released from the hospital. They’d sat there talking for hours and Tony had held him like he hadn’t wanted to let him go.

“You cried,” Morgan remembers and Peter squeezes his eyes closed.

Tony’s voice is thick when he answers. “Yeah, I did. Do you know why?”

“Because you love him,” Morgan mutters, her voice sullen again.

“Because I love him,” Tony agrees. “And I loved him even when he wasn’t there. I loved him when you were born, and when you said your first word, and two weeks ago when you hurt your ankle and I gave you piggyback rides all day. Does that mean I didn’t love you then?”

Morgan sniffs again. “I don’t know.”

“Of course it doesn’t,” Tony assures her. “Because guess what.”

“What?”

“I love you when I’m helping Peter with his homework. And when we’re watching movies after you’ve gone to bed or working in the lab. You don’t just stop loving something when you can’t see it anymore, baby. When you love something as much as I love you, you love it forever. Nothing will change that.”

Morgan’s little voice is cautiously hopeful as she asks, “Really?”

“Really. The only thing that’s changed is that Peter’s here now, so we don’t have to be sad anymore.”

“I didn’t like it when you cried,” Morgan confesses. “It made me want to cry too.”

Tony’s next breath shudders as he exhales. “Well, we don’t have to cry anymore, either of us. Cause I’ve got you, and Mom, and Peter, and I’m really, really happy.”

“Then I’m happy too,” Morgan says with all the innocence of a child. There’s the sound of another kiss and happy giggles.

“Good. But you’ve still got apologize to Peter, little miss. You hurt his feelings.”

“Ok,” she chirps easily. The floor creaks as if Tony just stood up.

“I love you both with my whole heart, Morgan,” Tony says quietly with a sincerity that’s probably lost on such a little kid, but it makes Peter’s eyes prick with tears.

There’s a pause and then, “You can’t love us both with your whole heart, Daddy. That doesn’t make sense. You can love us with half your heart.”

“Well, maybe dads have extra hearts, huh?” Tony teases, his footsteps coming down the hall. “One for you and one for Peter.”

“Nuh-uh,” Morgan cries.

“Mm-hmm. And one for Mom and then another one for Uncle Rhodey and Uncle Happy and cheeseburgers.”

Morgan laughs, then pauses. “Really?”

Tony is assuring her that he’s telling the truth as they come down the stairs, Morgan laughing with her head on her dad’s shoulder.

“Alright, baby girl,” Tony says, making eye contact with Peter and coming toward him. “Do you have something to say to your big brother?”

Morgan nods as Tony sets her down in front of Peter. He retreats toward the kitchen, hovering where he can still hear.

Peter stares at Morgan for a minute and she just stares back, her head tilted to one side.

“I’m sorry,” she finally says. “I was mean.”

Peter flounders for half a second, not used to such candor. “Um, I forgive you.”

“Can you teach me how to climb walls?” She asks, once again catching him off guard.

Well, not really, but he can’t tell her that when she’s willingly talking to him for the first time. “... Yes,” he says. He’ll figure something out.

“Cool,” she breathes, then clambers onto the couch next to him.

Pepper and Tony come in just a moment later with cocoa, both smiling as they see their kids. Tony sits down next to Peter, putting an arm around his shoulders.

Peter leans into him, closing his eyes for a second as he savors the warmth.

Tony buries his nose in Peter’s hair and mutters, “Did you hear all that?”

Peter glances up at him, feeling guilty but Tony just chuckles. “Good, that means I don’t have to say it all again.”

Peter snorts. “Love you, too,” he whispers. “So much.”

Tony smiles, welcomes Morgan into his arms as she crawls into his lap. He kisses Peter’s temple.

“I’ve got the best family,” he sighs happily.

#Irondad and Spiderson #Tony Stark #Peter Parker #MCU #brotp: speaking of loyalty #my writing #fic #irondadbingo #that 'my love' was for you person that sent me the ask about it that I can't remember the name of right now

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