#hurt those around her to uphold her lies

[queenvhagar]

“Sansa and Alicent both standing strong and alone against a King to defend their family in a room full of people, all of whom watch them hurt and do nothing to help them.”

Why does Team Green compare Sansa (a 13 year old hostage viewed as a traitor’s daughter) being beaten and SA’d in front of the entire court to Alicent (a grown woman who is the Queen) demanding a six year old be maimed and then charging at said six year old with a knife when she doesn’t get her way?

The situations are completely different! Alicent would be one of those people in the room watching Sansa get beaten up and SA’d whilst doing nothing, and Sansa would hate Alicent!

Sansa lived under the very system Alicent sought to uphold, even at her own detriment. Sansa was repeatedly victimised by the system Alicent ensured stayed in place, unquestioned, unchallenged.

One cannot compare a child living in a hostile environment where they’re trying to survive to a woman who purposefully created a hostile environment, because she was petty and bitter

Sansa IS a CHILD alicent WAS A child, but in that situation alicent was a grown ASS WOMAN her FATHER was behind her, her children was there too she wasn't completely alone, never compare them.

And how is Alicent even defending her child by demanding another child (younger than her own) have his eye torn out? and how is that the same as teenage Sansa being beat and SA'd Infront of the court?

🚨 Alicent misunderstander 🚨

🫵

Alicent didn't create a hostile environment. She was placed into an environment that became hostile due to the choices of others around her (ahem Viserys and Rhaenyra). Through no fault of her own did this obvious succession crisis come up where it became clear her sons would have to die for Rhaenyra to rule without dissent.

And y'all forget that Alicent WAS that child then. Alicent WAS that isolated kid forced to do her duty and appease the ruling family. Until she realized that this ruling family would willingly throw her family under the bus to help themselves, and so she was the one who had to find allies for her family and try to prepare for a future where her children might be able to survive. Then when she stopped bending over backwards for people who could not care less about her, suddenly her not kissing Rhaenyra's feet after being lied to and rejected and hurt by her is "bitter and petty" behavior 🤔 as IF her sole motivator for anything and everything she does is somehow focused on making Rhaenyra's life worse out of some kind of jealousy and not her just trying to protect her children from an obvious threat 🤦🏻‍♀️

At Driftmark SURE she had her father and children right there and she was physically not alone obviously, but consider the context man. After knowing her sons are endangered by Rhaenyra and that they will have to die for her to rule, Aemond is jumped by four kids, two of Rhaenyra's sons and two of Daemon's daughters, one armed with a knife, and Aemond's eye is cut out, Rhaenyra immediately jumps to wanting him tortured for information to save her own ass and cover her deception, and the king threatens Alicent and her family with mutilation if they talk about what just happened or speak the truth of the situation. And nobody even tries to talk with Rhaenyra's sons about how they shouldn't have jumped a kid with a knife and cut out their eye - in fact the takeaway for them was that this was all totally justified because Aemond called them a bad name. Meanwhile Alicent and her family realize how isolated they are and how they aren't really viewed as a part of the royal family and how they're powerless to do anything when it comes to the king and his named heir. Alicent is the only one who even expresses concern for Aemond's suffering. His own father rages at him and threatens him despite his eye just having been sliced out. She begs that he's also Viserys' blood, but he ignores her and their children as he always does. Alicent wants ANY justice. ANY consequences. But there are never any.

I didn't even write that original post, but the idea of it all is that both Sansa and Alicent were placed into dangerous and hostile environments where they were forced to accept mistreatment from the families they were married into and try to navigate their way to survival. I don't necessarily think the details of those two specific scenes of them quite match up, but the general link between these two characters is there. Both used their soft power to try to survive in the impossible situation they were in. Both defended their family to the king while having few allies themselves. The characters are more similar than they are different, I would say.

[pruneunfair]

I'm mulling over Nian's son again, for a nonexistent kid, he definitely has his own impact

Nian's son could've made Lady Nian an actual character, not a best friend of the Protagonist, not a supporting role, not a woman who has to always uphold a stellar popularity, but as a character, as herself

If I rewrite the scene where Rashta brought up that rumor, the Duchess would throw herself into rage, stand up and yell at Rashta: "HOW DARE YOU said that about my son/(son's name)? What do you know?!!", actually this display of pure raw emotion would show her true personality, definitely not as a woman with a temper who would react poorly to anything smearing her reputation, but a mother who's protective of her son, shedding her usual elegant facade is not ugly, having a normal reaction in response to trauma or terrible lies is not ugly, she has a normal outburst to what is very much a bad lie about her

I think that Nian who's so so used to putting on a pretty face for all to adore suddenly throwing that away at the defamation of her son being mentioned carelessly when he was just born would be superb character development, to show that she doesn't take slightly to any offensive remarks towards her child and it shows that she cares it's not just about reputation or an image to keep but protecting her child, Lady Nian eventually calmed down thanks to Navier and the party continued, Rashta learned it's bad to bring up someone's child in such misinformation like that since she didn't even know what Nian's son looks like, Nian's outburst is enough proof, as someone who does have a motherly nature, she decide against ever bringing it up again

Then right after, when the party was over, Nian was comforted by Navier in her own room, she was sitting on the floor with her face against Navier's blanket, her hands clutching the blanket tight, letting out those tortured sounds of agony from a woman scorned and hurt, saying things like "She doesn't know anything at all, how could she said it like that?", Navier was trying her best to comfort her friend, she wouldn't even blame Rashta or was angry at Rashta, Rashta was there for at most a few weeks, not 10 years ago so of course she didn't know how cruel those rumours were to Nian, it could've been some other women who told it to Rashta and Rashta being a blank sheet about the hellish social trickery didn't think much when mentioning it, she didn't know this was a trauma for Nian in the first place

The time Lady Nian experienced after giving birth to her son was not the best: A lot of people made her feel like a sinner for giving birth to her son, even her own relatives might mock her or her own husband didn't look at her with trustful eyes as though even he felt shady about it, she basically had no one then, not even Navier can help her, I believe this could be before the time of the Beautiful social butterfly Duchess Tuania, when Nian was just a noble woman trying to survive court life because she was just a newbie there or she was new to the place or at least she wasn't a pro at social wars between the nobility, not having the ability to give clever retorts to slanders coming at her, her parents in laws might have taken her son from her temporarily because they believe she wasn't in the right state of mind due to the rumours causing her to have negative hostile reactions to those around her as a result of postpartum depression, the truth being that he was born early because she and the Duke possibly had sex before the marriage but ofc telling that might even make the defamation worse, she even felt her son was a mistake and hate herself for thinking that, Nian was utterly lonely as a new mother, all this was Hell to her, she called it her ugliest time

Y'know her rewritten past oddly sounds a lot like what Rashta goes through eventually in the main Canon after she gave birth to Glorym, ain't that peculiarly interesting? After all in Canon, both of them are just basic rivals and Nian hated her since she stepped into court anyway

Y'know there are so many ways to twist typical expectations of a woman in a historical fantasy/high society scenario, like having an outburst at a social event is not "ugly", "disrespectful", it's a human thing and it happens, especially when it is related to bad experience in the past and there's nothing ugly or unladylike or imprudent about it

This really would have given her more of a character for someone who was written was so much more supposed importance compared to the rest of Naviers friends.

With how TRE demonized post partum depression, whenever on accident or just as a cheap way to make Rashta look worse, this would have been really great representation and it would help to not make Nian look like a neglectful parent for just skipping the empire with a younger man, seemingly never bothering to think about her children ever again.

[moobloom-mention]

The Price I'll Pay to Keep You Safe and Far From the Life I've Lived

Summary: The day that the Heavens descends into chaos is not the day Nezha expects to be given charge of the Universe's newest celestial monkey. Now he must battle with deciding Xiaotian's fate:

Follow the court's desire and mold him into "Heaven's Grand Weapon"...

Or banish him to live a normal life in the mortal realm, far from Heaven's grasp.

Content Warning(s): Fluff, Mention of child soldiers

Word Count: 8420

----------

Well-versed was a word that cared not for its rules of connotation. 

Its existence resided perched upon the pedestal of indifference- professional in its conduct toward those who’d use it in the never-ending dance of conversational etiquette. 

After all, the adjective knew that it was not its place to uphold opinion on whether a monk should use itself to describe their knowledge of Buddha’s teachings, nor was it its job to place judgement upon a musician who sought humble depictions of her work less she embarrassed herself proclaiming the thrumming of strings beneath her fingertips to resemble a sense of belonging. 

It was a word that stood tall as callouses of use raised bumps upon its skin, indifferent when it grew boldened and brash until its ten letters could be mistaken for brail. It took the ugly sight if only to enable even the blind to read its name. 

Well-versed held no home within the contents of the world’s dictionaries either, a victim of prejudice in the face of scholars arguing its hyphen, but as per its own mantra: “well-versed” cared not on such a dilemma. 

It didn’t need the validation of belonging in a book to know its usage extended past the corners of the mortal realm, welcoming and charitable to those who sought to hide beneath its calm facade of detachment. 

And “well-versed” bragged not as it was used to soothe the yearn of a celestial prince, whose own guilt already lied in his childish conflict of describing the familiar harsh bite of titles and names. 

No matter how fleeting a name could be, “demon” was not a brand that could be washed away with the gentle oaths of care and apologies. It could only be accepted, bitterness hidden beneath the draped hanfu of “well-versed” as to describe Nezha’s knowledge of what names he finds as familiar as the warm metal of the circlet around his neck. 

And perhaps it was such varsity in the cruelty of names as to why Nezha finds himself uncaring when the familiar thrum of insult threatened him once more, this time spat from none other than a heavenly brother. 

Even at the ripe age of one-hundred-and-forty-one, Nezha had expected the jab to hurt. Not from the harmless words themselves but more from the pure malice and spite that’d been cast into the universe. 

Maybe even from the person who’d spat it themselves. 

“It’s a shame, ” Erlang Shen muttered and Nezha’s lips pressed into a firm line. The man stood a few paces away, as though fearful he’d catch a plague for wandering too close. “Reduced to nothing but some glorified babysitter. ” 

And yet the statement had only passed from one ear to another, gone the moment Erlang turned and dismissed himself off to do “better things” than make petty jabs. 

It’d been more shocking than distressing to stare once more at a man he’d once claimed to be akin to a mentor, stood in the fragmented pieces of what was once their bond now broken by childish insults and sneers. 

And all over what the realm had explained to be “Heaven’s Grand Weapon”. 

 Nezha’s fists clenched at such a notion; he would’ve thought Erlang would be proud that the prince had obtained the position. Not many would’ve been entrusted with a weapon so grand; let alone told they would train it until the heavenly realm was satisfied. 

Besides, without him to keep a watchful eye the celestial realm would surely send itself into a fit of chaos and fear, prey to decisions of impulsivity and reckless abandon. 

After all, it’d happened the day news of “Heaven’s Grand Weapon” struck the realm. 

(The eruption of chaos throughout the Heavens hadn’t been gradual, but one chaotic force that seized the palace all at once. The noise had been enough to lure Nezha from his once peaceful day of guarding artifacts, eager to feed his own curiosity. 

From afar it’d been easy to claim hundreds of celestial beings had gathered, each pacing amongst one another in differentiating degrees of panic. A handful had even been blatant in their arguments with heavenly guards posted at the palace doors. 

As intriguing as the sight was, Nezha had merely ducked back into his designated hall to continue on. So long as the Heavens weren’t crashing down at that moment, it was no concern of his. 

“Nezha. ” 

…oh, wasn’t that just great? 

The prince needed not to turn to know it was General Wind-Accompanying Ear, unsure whether to be excited or concerned at the other’s appearance. The general rarely made trips outside the Celestial Palace less a message needed to be run, and considering the other’s appearance- 

“It might just be your lucky day, ” Wind-Accompanying Ear chirped, expression bright despite the howls of rage from the clouds below. “You’ve been summoned before the Jade Emperor. ” 

“I’d hardly consider it lucky, ” Nezha grunted. “It wouldn’t be my responsibility to corral everyone, would it? ” 

But the general only laughed. 

Oceans of gods and powerful beings had parted to allow them both to approach the palace, doors opening only to permit their entry before they’re locked once more. 

With a slam of the palace doors, the outside bellows disappeared, lost to the deafening silence of gold and marble walls. 

Were Nezha anyone else, he may have taken a moment to gape at the story of wealth told through the more simple details of the hall: endless halls lined with fine tapestries, crystal chandeliers incomparable to the usual lack of ceiling decor that only brought out the window’s finely painted cyan color. 

If one thing was true about the Jade Emperor, it was the mortal saying “go big or go home”. 

As per the typical song and dance, it’s the Hall of Miraculous Mist that Wind-Accompanying Ear led him toward, the pair stopping only momentarily before the doors. 

Leant against the grand things, the general almost seemed…conflicted, concern a vague undertone to his kind smile. 

Nezha’s eyebrows furrowed, uncertain how to decipher the other’s carefully veiled anxieties. As a close celestial general, Wind-Accompanying Ear had millennia of experience attending counseled meetings. The familiarity should have created comfort in the situation, not worry. 

This reaction was…more than a little unnerving. 

“Anxious for the meeting as well? ”  

Wind-Accompanying’s head suddenly tipped back, his boisterous laugh an echo against the grand halls. “Oh, you couldn’t drag me into this meeting if you tried, ” he declared with an easy grin, having jumped at the opportunity to dismiss the tension. “But this’ll be big for you! Promise me it won’t go south? ” 

Heavens above, what had he gotten himself into? 

“South? ” Nezha echoed, confused. “Why would this go- ” 

But the general was quick to push open the marble doors, his head bowed before the awaiting court. “In accordance to your decree, ” Wind-Accompanying Ear announced, not having yet waved the glee in his tone, “I have brought forth Nezha, the Third Lotus Prince. ” 

Nezha stepped forth and gone was his last glimpse of hope, Wind-Accompanying Ear having left the prince to kneel before the giant and giantess that were the Jade Emperor and Queen Celestial Mother herself. 

“Nezha! ” 

Quickly had the prince’s chest swelled over the joyous voice of the Queen Celestial Mother, Xiwangmu, the smile on her face a touch brighter than that of her green eyes. It seemed the queen’s expression was not the only thing set alight, the almost excited atmosphere of the hall a stark contrast to whatever chaos had possessed the heavenly beings beyond the palace doors. 

“Your Imperial Majesties, ” he bowed, eyebrows knitted when a quick glance proved the room in absence of the Celestial Court. Rare was it for the Jade Emperor to act without the acknowledgement of his advisors, none in attendance with the exception of the Spirit of Venus. 

His throat bobbed. 

“…and Spirit of Venus. It’s been a while since I last saw the Heavens in such chaos, has Brother Erlang’s hound escaped again? ” 

It certainly wouldn’t have been the first- nor last -instance; as fond as Nezha was of his past mentor’s hound, not even the Heavens themselves could contain that damned dog. 

But the Jade Emperor only shook his head, voice rough as though exhausted by the childish nature of those he ruled over. “Fortunately, ” he eased, “Erlang’s hound remains in containment for now, and exists no threat to the Heavens justifiable for this ruckus. ” 

“Surely Erlang himself would disagree, ” Xiwangmu laughed and Nezha wondered faintly if Her Majesty was a distant sister of softly ringing bells. It was only the giantess’s gaze cautiously sweeping over the palm of her hand that disrupted the prince’s thoughts of awe, and he strained to try and hear the soft coos she’d reserved for whatever she held. “But you’re nothing but a sweet, precious thing, aren’t you? ” 

“Xiwangmu, darling, ” the Jade Emperor warned. Despite the other’s exasperated expression, Nezha couldn’t dismiss the trace of fondness behind such stern words. The emperor may host publicly his demand for decorum and respect, but behind the boldened lines of tradition still stood the affection of marriage reserved only for beyond closed doors. 

If Nezha hadn’t known better, he would’ve claimed the Jade Emperor to be embarrassed as the looming figure turned his attention back toward his audience, a hand waved toward the last standing member of his court before he could fuss over his wife. “Spirit of Venus, if you could. ” 

Said spirit did well in their attempts to distract Nezha, stepping forward and taking the prince’s hands within their own. Heavens above, he’d almost forgotten how much the Spirit of Venus valued any type of physical touch. 

“It has been nearly two celestial decades since the day you swore to protect Heaven’s most prized artifacts, ” they announced, the pride in their voice not an emotion to take lightly. “Fiercely have you guarded them, even amidst the havoc that this realm has inevitably endured throughout its millennia of existence.  

“You’ve climbed the rankings of your peers, discontent until even the most prideful of gods knelt before you in respect, and such a fact is not lost on me nor Your Celestial Majesties. It is such loyalty and ambition that has bred the trust of a new duty to be assigned to you, and offer you something new to seek contentment within. ” 

Nezha had not a moment to contemplate the other’s words before he found himself stumbling at the force of Xiwangmu’s unprompted step forward. How he mourned for the silk white cloth of her hanfu that touched the floor where she knelt, but his grave expression didn’t remain for long. It quickly morphed into one of confusion as the back of the giantess’s left hand found the floor. 

It was a clear expectation for him to step onto it, the palm big enough to safely encase Nezha within her grasp. Even in the years the prince had spent attending meetings before the grand emperor and empress, never once will he ever grow used to just how massive the beings before him stand. 

But as doubtful as he’d been, it would’ve been a high offense to deny her wishes, and so the prince struggled in his attempts to climb atop the valley of flesh, his effort to remain standing quickly picked apart until Nezha could only sit upright while Xiwangmu lifted her newly occupied hand back toward her face. 

“Cross your arms, ” she murmured, voice soft and mindful of the small being she’d risen to her eye-line. It was so gentle that Nezha almost wondered how many immortal beings she’d held before him. “And put your palms up. ” 

It was an almost cradling position that Nezha found his arms had formed; an odd way to hold a vase, he’d thought in the moment. 

There wasn’t a warning before her right hand rose to reveal her index and middle finger pinched together with something between them. Shamefully did he find her poised hand of close resemblance to chopsticks grasping at a red-colored dish. 

Whatever she’d been holding had quickly found its home within his arms, much to Nezha’s own surprise. He’d never minded taking on the responsibility of another artifact, though curiosity had still remained over why such outrage had emerged from beyond the palace walls. That and why the small vase had been wrapped in delicate red silk. 

But then the object had made an odd noise. Something Nezha could only have described as a weak attempt at a tired croon. 

Oh by the high Heavens, he’d been handed a child.

It was almost embarrassing upon reflection how terribly his arms had trembled whilst holding something so unimaginably fragile beneath the ire of both the Jade Emperor and his wife. Nezha was a fool to have thought he could ever wave aside the fear of dropping it, left to sit in his own puddle of anxiety so contrasting to his usual stature of calm. 

A new heir being brought upon the Heavens was nothing new, as the Jade Emperor was known to dote on his wife and beg for additional children. However, why such powerful beings would hand Nezha their newest heir was beyond his understanding; his past had been one baked in bloodshed and trauma, his hands far too calloused to be entrusted with a child. 

It’d taken seconds too long for him to scold his expression of shock and mold it firmly into the familiar facade of apathy. 

“Congratulations, Your Imperial Majesties, ” the prince coughed, eyes unfocused in unconsolable concern. He couldn’t imagine the punishment he’d receive for denying the implied order. “But I could never find myself entrusted to look after one of your heirs- ” 

And suddenly, the hand that’d been holding both him and the child begun to shake. It was as though Nezha had just uttered the most humorous joke in existence as not only the Spirit of Venus, but the Jade Emperor himself tipped their heads back and laughed . 

He’d shook in the face of such boldened laughter, his heart skipping beats in fear he’d offended the Heaven’s royalty so grandly. 

“I meant no disrespect, ” he blurted. His lips twitched, unsure whether a smile would help to soothe whatever was going on. “I’m just far from the best caregiver in the celestial realm- ” 

“Oh, Nezha, ” Xiwangmu beamed, having barely concealed her own snorted laugh. “This child isn’t one of my own. ” 

Upon closer inspection, the prince surely found himself to be mistaken in his original assessment of holding a humanoid celestial being. The child’s ears were an odd thing, rounded and large and so different from that of any god living amongst the celestial realm. 

Actually, to of labeled it a “child” would even be a stretch to what Nezha found in his arms, the creature coated in dark brown fur and already mildly curious in its own long, bushy tail that peeked from behind the blanket it’d been swaddled within. 

Oh. 

No wonder the Heavens had found itself in a state of emergency; it’d been millennia since the last creation of a celestial monkey . 

Nezha found himself frozen in place, captivated by the fragile state of the infant within his arms. It looked so innocent and carefree despite the four extremely powerful beings crowding around it, and the prince couldn’t have helped but wonder if Wukong had ever been this sweet as a child. 

Impossible , he thought fondly. Wukong could never have been so small, nor so content merely swaddled in a blanket. The Great Sage had demanded attention since birth and carved his destiny until attention had learned to seek after him naturally. 

But perhaps he could imagine a younger Liu’er Mihou this calm and gentle in his youth. Patient and quiet before the fear of death had torn apart such naive notions. 

Nezha’s head tilted. Mihou could never have been so joyous, though. If one creature would prove Mencius’s theory of learned hatred it would be the bundle of joy within his arms. 

I could drop you and I’d never forgive myself.  

But you’d forgive me, wouldn’t you?  

It was a sentiment that terrified him. 

He couldn’t help but adjust the blankets in an attempt to make it more tight-fit, lips pursed when a small hand rushed to grasp Nezha’s index finger. 

He didn’t dare pull his digit away, captivated by the fur that begun at the infant’s wrist. The locks were far softer than the rough matt of Wukong’s, a deep shade of brown so different from the familiar colors of gold and silver that Nezha had been used to seeing on celestial primates. 

He found himself so lost that he barely registered the fact Xiwangmu had lowered them back to the ground, letting Nezha step away from the giantess with the gift in hand. 

“I- ” his voice wavered. When was the last time he’d even seen Wukong or Mihou? “I couldn’t possibly accept this- it’s just- are we sure there isn’t some better-? ” 

“Take a breath, ” the Spirit of Venus had soothed, their hand a gentle reminder of comfort as they patted Nezha’s back. Their voice lowered, an odd thing to think of upon reflection. “You and I both understand the prejudice against Wukong and his kin that plagues the Heavens. ” 

Nezha had only frowned, far too knowledgeable on such a topic. The antics that Wukong had pulled amidst the ape’s youth had remained a popular topic of frustration amidst celestial beings, even if it’d occurred centuries ago. Had the prince the Wukong not found a resemblance of friendship following his journey to the west, Nezha was certain he would’ve shared the same bitter resentment as his heavenly brothers. 

How ironic the prince still considered himself on “good terms” with the ape even as Wukong continued to pull Nezha into trouble. 

“And Wukong is not able to-? ” 

“Wukong, ” the Jade Emperor interrupted, a sudden force of fury Nezha couldn’t help but flinch at when contrasted with the Spirit of Venus’s apologetic expression. “Is to never learn of its existence. ” 

“Decorum, Your Imperial Majesty, ” the spirit muttered lowly. There was a moment of silence before they’d begun to speak again with a much kinder tone. “It is our hope for the child to be raised in the celestial realm and Buddha knows Wukong would never comply. ” 

Although the statement reigned true, even the infant resting within Nezha’s arms could tell the Spirit of Venus was waltzing around something. There had to be more to this discussion. 

Still, the Spirit of Venus continued as if unphased by the sour mood of the Jade Emperor. “You’ll fetch him a peach from Her Imperial Majesty’s garden .” 

“So early? ” Nezha asked, still unable to take his eyes from the infant. 

In the corner of his eyes the Spirit of Venus nodded. “He’s destined for greatness, Nezha. Especially if you’re to be his mentor. ” 

I’m sorry, mentor ? 

It was as if Xiwangmu had read his thoughts, her gentle laugh rumbling through the hall. She smiled, her voice a mere whisper as though she held a secret to tell. 

“You’ll fall for him; I just know it. ” 

He hadn’t expected the phrase to strike such an odd chord through his heart, though Nezha had only nodded as if to bury his sorrow beneath the addicting praise that came with obedience. 

It wasn’t worth the hurt acknowledging that such a requested attachment was a quality mostly learnt amidst a being’s time in the mortal realm. After all, it was fleeting life that tended cautiously to the taut strings of bonds. 

The same bonds that could not exist to someone who’d spent their mortal life scrounging for love and fleeing from the bitter taste of hatred spat by those meant to protect him. 

But the seeds of devotion had not cared for Nezha’s fears as they planted themselves beneath his skin, flourishing in the comfort of two passing years until its roots could not bear to allow blood to flow less the child was by his side.) 

A familiar weight leaps onto his shoulder and Nezha physically waves aside the memory, “Heaven’s Grand Weapon” clearly upset over the lack of attention. He still finds it odd how quickly he’d grown used to watching over the two-year-old, his once appraised resolve weak to the infant’s frequent croons and demands to tuck himself beneath the harsh metal of Nezha’s armor or to groom his neatly tied hair. 

He won’t lie, the job of caretaker had gotten easier once Nezha began to view the child as more of a dangerous vase with legs versus an actual celestial being. At least that mindset stalled the anxiety-inducing concept that he’d be teaching the monkey anything and everything important in life. 

The only “life-changing” decision he’d really had to make was giving it a name of its own. “Heaven’s Grand Weapon” felt only a step away from “demon”, and such a sentiment simply wouldn’t fly beneath Nezha’s eyes. 

And so “Xiaotian” was born, if only to break the pattern of horrid names given to celestial apes. 

He knows that “Sun Wukong” was a name the ape wore proudly, despite its sorrowful implication that he’d been born from ache and a need to grasp for ambition in the hopes it’d fill the emptiness. 

“Liu’er Mihou” hadn’t been any better; who knew calling a six-eared macaque “the Six-Eared Macaque” wouldn’t spark most being’s- celestial or demonic -interests. 

But Xiaotian would not follow such a fate, entitled “Little Heaven” if only to preserve the infant’s gentle nature hidden beneath the layers of mischief that came with youth. 

He flinches as an impatient tail whacks his head, a demanding trill forcing him back to the present. 

“Alright,” he sighs, spitting brown fur from his mouth. In spite of the poor behavior, Nezha still slips a walnut effortlessly from his pocket before offering it to the greedy two-year old. “What’s the plan for today?” 

There’s only a pleasant purr that emerges from his shoulders, as if Xiaotian were attempting to convey his lack of care for what the day may entail. The infant’s sudden reluctance to stray far from Nezha’s side was something new, and the prince can’t help the guilt that settles within his stomach. 

Only a week prior things had been fine; suspiciously so. The issue of codependency had always been one of Nezha’s grandest fears with Xiaotian, but it had seemed that they’d finally reached a point in which the infant felt confident enough to leave Nezha’s side to chase a leaf or whatever spot of sunlight Nezha’s armor had reflected. 

Each step toward independence brought the duo farther from the concept of “Child vs Caregiver” and more towards the odd dynamic of “Prince vs Royal Guard” that mortals tended to divulge in: 

Xiaotian would attempt to scamper as far as his four legs would take him and Nezha would always be three steps behind, prepared to appease whatever demands the two-year-old had. The infant could even point toward one of the many gardens in the celestial realm and Nezha was but a mere compass to such a destination. 

But within the past week Xiaotian had been nothing but reluctant to stray too far. Playful leaves had turned boring, darting from Nezha’s shoulder to shoulder suddenly a far more entertaining activity. 

It was unnerving, as if Xiaotian instinctively knew what was to happen if today’s plans went well. 

Or perhaps the recent uptick in needless glares from other celestial beings had caused a lack of independence. While nobody had ever dared to physically discipline Xiaotian’s antics, such needless cruelty was still degrading to a child’s development. 

“Hm,” Nezha hums, anything to try and escape the prison of his thoughts. “We could visit Jinzha today.” 

Like an ignited firework, Xiaotian bursts into a ball of energy, chittering with excitement. Nezha can’t help the sneaking suspicion his no-good brother had been bribing the infant with sweets on his babysitting visits. 

Not that Nezha can blame him. He’d seen Xiaotian’s dubbed “puppy-dog eyes” before, ones that declared Nezha a monster less the infant’s demand was met within the next few seconds. 

A sorrow croon sounds and Nezha quickly finds himself quelling the other’s mood change. Despite being two, Xiaotian was still smart enough to know that visiting Jinzha meant that Nezha had “better” things to do 

Things you will thank me for someday, he thinks. 

There’s a soft glow as a lotus sigil ignites beneath them, Xiaotian quick to snuggle between Nezha’s neck and shoulder less he be left behind. Slowly the orange glow and silent nature of the celestial realm melts into shades the blue and the familiar buzz of passing cars of the mortal realm. 

He’d never get used to the hustle-culture that came from Megapolis, mortals around him always scrambling to get to the next thing. Whether that thing was a simple meeting or their next stage of life, Nezha couldn’t ever care. 

But what he did care for was why Jinzha had decided to settle in the innovative city. While he could see his brother enjoying the simple chaos that came with mortals living their everyday “adventures”, Jinzha was still a sucker for tradition. 

Something his house screamed of. 

Nestled amidst towering skyscrapers was a simple one-story house, its courtyard surrounded by walls made of painted dry mud and stones. It followed the traditional style of architecture that mortals had long claimed to be outdated. 

A tail threatens to sweep over his nose once more and if only because Nezha knows this song and dance, he tilts his shoulder forward and dips Xiaotian toward the house’s door. With a satisfied chirp, the toddler wraps his knuckles against the wood faintly. 

Not a second later the door opens. 

Nezha’s nearly forced backward at the speed Xiaotian rockets into Jinzha’s awaiting arms, his brother instantly swinging the two-year-old around the foyer. “Ah, my favorite little Harbinger of Chaos!” 

The sight’s nearly enough to chase his state of melancholy and replace it with something more nostalgic. Although centuries ago, Nezha could still distinctly recall his first mortal years, Jinzha having been the type of brother to toss him anytime 

Judging by the beaming expression on Jinzha’s face, Nezha can only assume he thinks the same. 

“You gonna come in or stay outside all day?” 

Nezha only manages to roll his eyes before he steps inside the house, closing the door behind him. He barely manages to catch Jinzha chasing Xiaotian toward the living room before he lets himself exhale with relief. 

The familiar smell of burning incense brings a sense of tranquility the celestial realm could never afford him. That feeling of home . 

Jinzha reappears only a moment later and a peek proves Xiaotian to be occupying himself in the living room. Nezha swears a look of surprise crosses his brother’s face before it’s smoothed over. 

“I’m not interrupting anything- am I?” 

“Only my daily chores,” Jinzha assures, “But who wouldn’t want to be interrupted during that?” 

Despite his words, Jinzha gestures toward the kitchen. It’s a clear invitation to join him, one that Nezha graciously accepts. 

As per usual, the kitchen is just as clean as Nezha’s always known it to be. Whether from Jinzha’s own need for his home to be organized or the gentle whispers of his mother’s irritation over being unkempt, it’s another chant of home. 

Old habits die hard, he supposes. Not even the stableness of immortality could change that. 

Nezha blinks as the sound of cabinets closing fills the room, four towels quickly having been laid out on the counters in preparation to dry dishes. As expected, a glance proves the sink to be full of various soap-covered dishes and cutlery. 

The sink turns on with a hiss and Nezha barely has a second to react before a rag’s thrown at his face. He quickly swipes the thing away, shooting a glare toward his older brother. 

But his look of indignance doesn’t last, replaced with one of irritation over Jinzha’s satisfied expression. 

“I thought you were gonna help,” is the only excuse offered. 

Nezha sighs before he dips his hand into the sink, finding his own plate to begin to wipe of bubbles and left-over crumbs. 

And because it’s a routine ever since the both of them were mortal, Jinzha’s focus isn’t on the dishes as hand. 

“I’m assuming you’re running away from chores like me,” the older murmurs. “Did you get asked to repaint the Jade Emperor’s room or something?” 

Nezha only offers a weak chuckle. As smoothly as the rag drags across the plate, he can feel the way the cloth catches on each roughed callous plaguing his hands. “I wish.” 

“Hm…a big mission then? You know I don’t mind watching Xiaotian for longer periods of time. At least, long as you come back for him.” 

The plate’s passed carefully to Jinzha, whom begins to pat it dry on one of the four towels. 

“Is the big secret out? Do other mischievous celestial monkeys know things they shouldn’t?” 

That’d be a disaster, Nezha thinks. If Xiaotian’s existence had gotten out, the Heavens would’ve been reliving Wukong’s youthful antics in some desperate attempt to see the new toddler. 

“Then it’s gotta be that Xiaotian’s training soon, no?” 

…maybe this conversation didn’t need to happen after all. 

Nezha must have stiffened because the sink shuts off at an instant, Jinzha’s eyes pinning him in place. He continues to scrub at his cup if only because habit is easy. 

“Have they released you from his care?” 

“No.” 

“Has the court decided against his training?” 

“No.” 

A beat. 

“…are you worried they will?” 

Am I? 

Nezha blinks, his knuckles having grown white from how tightly the rag is wound in his grasp. Quickly his eyes skim over the surface of the cup; there’s a chip at its lips, the missing piece causing ragged and irreparable damage that would damn it to the garbage bin. Jinzha wouldn’t want to risk someone cutting their lip on it. 

His eyebrows furrow. 

Surely Xiaotian’s story wouldn’t be the same should the court cancel his training. They’d just…find a new spot for him like they did with Wukong. After all, it would be against the Buddhist scriptures to kill a soul merely out of fear for what they could become. 

“Nezha.” 

Like a balm, Jinzha’s voice brings relief to the horrifying thought, the other’s expression of concern soothing. 

“The courts wouldn’t cancel his training; Xiaotian’s going to be fine. I’m sure of it.” 

There’s a grunt from the other room, and both turn to reveal Xiaotian to be battling his own tail on the couch. 

“See?” Jinzha murmurs, sounding fond. “He’s already practically a spitting image of you-” 

“I want him exiled from the celestial realm.” 

Jinzha’s hand freezes from where it’d been rinsing a plate, brown eyes not unlike the wide ones of an owl. 

“What? ” 

Nezha only steps aside, the chipped cup quickly disposed within a trash bag before he dips his hands back into the sink. 

“Hold on, you can’t just say that and move on-” 

“It’s already decided.” 

Nezha’s hand twitches, mind desperate to escape the look of shock and exasperation on the other’s face. Jinzha wasn’t meant to be the judgy one; he was the one brother whose line of anger had never been easily crossed like Muzha’s. 

“He’s been exiled already?” 

His teeth clench. Jinzha doesn’t sound angry but the mortal instinct of fight or flight is still as shattering as Nezha remembers it to be. 

“…no. The courts are deciding today.” 

He forces himself still as Jinzha inhales sharply. “You aren’t worried they’ll refuse your request?” 

“They won’t.” 

A doubtful glance. 

“It’s not an option.” 

He hates how such a sentiment makes his throat swell with emotion. 

“Then where is he going? What’s the plan? Do you even have one?” 

“No.” 

The fork Nezha grabs feels far too light in his hand, gentle ministrations ensuring no grime was left on the utensil. It’s only after the satisfaction of a job well done ignites that he offers the utensil toward Jinzha. 

But no hand reaches to take the fork from his hand. 

Why the Heavens had cursed him with a brother that couldn’t just continue on would always be beyond him. 

There’s an itch of irritation beginning to form beneath Nezha’s skin the longer he holds the fork out. It isn’t until he manages to glance toward his brother that dread fills him. 

Jinzha isn’t moving, only standing there with his gaze locked onto Nezha. 

His eye twitches. 

“What.” 

“You’re an idiot.” 

And Jinzha finally plucks the fork from Nezha’s grasp. 

His ribs groan as he finally allows himself to breathe, the pit in his stomach quickly closing with each practiced breath. 

Jinzha’s not angry.  

“Yeah, yeah, don’t rub it in,” Nezha mutters. 

“…do you need some help?” 

Nezha’s eyebrows furrow. He might not be on the verge of a panic attack anymore, but his irritation sure isn’t leaving soon. “Wha- why would I need help with the dishes?” 

“Not with the dishes, stupid. With Heaven’s Grand Weapon over there.” 

Said Grand Weapon only makes a coo from the living room, having settled down with his tail still proudly caught between his teeth. 

It makes his throat bob with sorrow. He couldn’t understand why the Heavens would want to waste such innocence in pursuit of some warrior. They already had enough power; Wukong had really only ever been the one menace to irritate everyone . 

“I don’t know what to do.” 

There were still far too many things to take care of, namely figuring out whom in the mortal plane would care for Xiaotian. There were too many things left up to luck in that nature; whoever ended up taking care of Xiaotian could love him until a year passed, now disinterested in raising a child. 

Or they could trick Nezha into a sense of security before turning around and treating Xiaotian like a demonic being. 

“Then let me take care of it.” 

His head turns, desperate to find the patience and understanding in the other’s expression. 

There’s a hint of annoyance there as well, but nothing out of the ordinary considering the news Nezha just dropped. 

“I know a few contacts that could…help. If- when the courts exile Xiaotian, I’ll have everything prepared.” 

“…thank you.” 

“I know, I’m just the best brother in the world, hm?” 

Nezha only rolls his eyes. This was hardly the difficult part of the plan, but he’d be lying if he said he was used to the embarrassment that came with asking for help. 

There’s no further discussion as they return to the dishes, only needing to dedicate a few more minutes before they’re finished. If anything, Nezha wishes it’d taken longer; maybe then he could’ve clung to the scene a bit longer. 

But Jinzha only affords him whatever peace of mind he can offer before Nezha finally acknowledges he’d need to leave to make it to court on time. 

Xiaotian enters the room just in time for a lotus sigil to light once more beneath Nezha’s feet, small monkey paws climbing Jinzha’s hanfu until he too was eye-level with Nezha. 

“Good luck,” Jinzha murmurs, Xiaotian giving his own encouraging chirp. 

Anger is an ugly emotion to stir within him as the sterile environment of the celestial realm returns. The thought of Xiaotian not having to worry about the Heavens plans for him should be relieving, but it only reminds Nezha that he shouldn’t have to be the one to convince everyone of such a thing. 

The anger doesn’t leave by the time he’s summoned to the Hall of Miraculous Mist, eyes unfocused as he halts before the closed doors leading to the court. 

Relax, this is for Xiaotian , he thinks, forcing air into his lungs. 

For Xiaotian.  

There’s a harsh grunt as the grand doors open, anger a familiar burn within his throat as a spark of fear ignites the court’s atmosphere. He almost feels shameful for how tense the celestial court is, each being of the mindset that a single misstep could throw the Heavens into chaos. 

They were dealing with a child, for Heaven’s sake, not some rabid demon they would require Buddha’s assistance with.  

It’s a detail that frays the battered ends of his nerves, already furious to be subject to prying eyes of many who already despised Xiaotian, vengeful for a crime the innocent child had yet to commit. Of course, not everyone upon the court had confused brown fur for auburn; the Spirit of Venus is only kind as he smiles at Nezha, a few generals of unbiased opinion also surveying the room. 

It does little to better his mood, especially as the rigorous rules of court fall apart, the Jade Emperor himself dismissing all formalities in an almost desperate attempt to learn of what may be wrong. If Nezha stood before anyone else, he would’ve shamed the court for the blatant lack of respect. 

“It is not often I find you asking for an audience,” the emperor comments, a single sweep of his hand ceasing the mindless chatter of his advisors. “There must be a grand concern you’ve found the court necessary of heeding.”  

Even in spite of the Jade Emperor’s lack of decorum, Nezha’s voice wills itself into existence only after he bows before the court. “It is about the child.” 

“My brother,” a voice rumbles, and Nezha quickly finds it to belong to one of the court’s many generals, General Thousand-Mile Eye. “The Heavens oversee many children; you’ll have to be more specific.”  

Nezha nearly balks at the ignorance playing out before him, but he’s quick to remind himself that the general is driven more through sight versus words of mouth like his brother Wind-Accompanying Ear. Still, he doesn’t bother to hide how harshly his hand grips at his lotus spear. “The child that was assigned specifically beneath my care.”  

“Xiaotian, then,” Wind-Accompanying Ear smiles, as though his generosity were an attempt to pardon his brother’s foolish behavior. The effort falls flat to the floor, shot down by a familiar grating scoff that was certainly from none other than Erlang Shen himself, who’d never been the type to hold his tongue.  

“Xiaotian,” the Jade Emperor echoes as though to feel out the name. “I see the child is absent from your watchful gaze; it is not alone causing irreparable damage, is it?”  

His lungs hitch awkwardly in an attempt to conceal the laughter threatening to fall from his lips; as if a monkey unable to speak Mandarin yet were able to cause more ruckus than a decent chase through the celestial gardens. “No,” he smiles instead, voice dry. “He is in the care of my dear brother, Jinzha. I found it…informal to host such a youthful spirit in the presence of the Celestial Court.  

“But even in the child’s absence, I intend to be productive of his future. I have come before Your Imperial Majesty and the court to report that I believe it would be within our best interests to surrender his claim to the Heavens and banish him to the mortal plane.” 

Nezha can almost find the humor in the storm of uncertainty that fills the room, not unlike the day of Xiaotian’s arrival. While the reactions are far more reserved than the furious celestials that day, it takes far more effort than it should for him to wave aside the concern and anger disguised poorly within hushed whispers. 

Unsurprisingly, it is Erlang who finds his voice first, his laughter hidden behind the back of his hand. “I admire your sense of humor, Nezha,” he hums, lips twisted into a grin. “But I find it hard to believe you’d bring the court here just to suggest we make another headache for ourselves. 

“I don’t think any of us have forgotten what happened last time we let an ape be raised on its own devices. We may now live in times of peace and far from Wukong’s mischief, but only following centuries of torment from him.” 

There’s a sharp inhale as Nezha calms himself, far too aware of the petty grudges many on the Celestial Court still bared. However his calm facade remains firm, mindful that the court’s opinion isn’t what matters. 

His unimpressed expression must have spoken so, as Erlang turns to address the two giants Nezha would truly need to convince. 

“And lest we forget the wreckage brought upon Her Imperial Majesty’s garden of peaches.” 

A dirty play, but played well indeed. 

It’s a mantra that Nezha forces himself to chant, desperate to free himself from the burden of frustration. As much as he wants to declare Erlang’s concerns petty and pure speculation, the statement does hold its own ground. The only two celestial monkeys they’d ever been familiar with had indeed caused their own chaos to the Heavens. 

That being said, Nezha had never expected grace and manner from two beings raised by mindless monkeys. 

“The root of Wukong’s mischief was due to his species’ lack of teachings in control and accountability,” Nezha declares. While not entirely true, it wasn’t like Wukong was there to valiantly defend those who raised him. “There are plenty of species that exist and are willing to do a better job of raising Xiaotian.” 

And there a new figurehead stands, the Evening Star baring a wicked scowl to accompany his spit. “Are you suggesting the celestial realm is not equipped to raise a mere ape?” 

“A mere ape?” Nezha echoes, almost amused in the star’s distasteful behavior. He’d always preferred the Evening Star’s brother, but the Morning Star had long avoided the concept of entertaining the Celestial Court. “Have you forgotten the title that Xiaotian yields so young in his life? The title of ‘Heaven’s Grand Weapon’? His life should not be one lived within this plane, but instead alongside the mortal one-” 

“Are you insane?” 

What Nezha wouldn’t pay to forever ingrain the horrified expression of Erlang within his mind, the warrior’s snarl wavering with concern. “You aren’t actually suggesting that we give the weapon to humanity?” 

“Mortal humans are the best choice,” reigns his snort, silently pleading for the rest of the court to see reason. “They’re naive beings, sure, but my observations have proved that the modern generations are more inclined to teach morality to their children. It would be easy to disguise him as human and place him as one of their own.” 

“And what of humanity’s history of making child soldiers-?” 

“Is that not Xiaotian’s fate should he reside in the celestial realm?” 

At an instant Erlang reels, eyes wide as the rest of the court turns toward the Jade Emperor. “Your Imperial Majesty, humanity could turn it into some weapon of its own-” 

“Nezha speaks of the truth,” the Jade Emperor mutters, voice still a rumble despite its soft volume. “If the child stays, it will be trained and fitted into the title of a celestial warrior, maybe more if it so pleases. But is that such a terrible fate to live? He would be promised stability and security of a purpose.” 

“Your Imperial Majesty, this ‘training’ is only because many of you fear his relation to Wukong. It will rob Xiaotian of his youth and innocence, punishing him for the mistakes of kin he’s never met. Your fear will breed disaster and ill-will from him, and what will occur when you’ve built a warrior whose loyalty lies to no one but himself?” 

There’s a beat before the Star of Venus rises from their seat. “I urge you all to heed Nezha’s warning. Twice we have interfered with celestial apes, and only after decades of havoc did Wukong finally turn our favor for a handful of years. To keep Xiaotian here will doom him, either to join Mihou in Diyu or to condemn him beneath a mountain the moment he rebels.” 

The Jade Emperor makes a thoughtful sound, eyes curious. “You stand with Nezha’s request?” 

“He would not have been entrusted with Xiaotian in the first place if his judgement was not sound.” 

“Very well.” 

Nezha watches as the Jade Emperor nods, the court falling silent once more with a wave of his hand. 

“Xiaotian will henceforth be banished from the celestial realm and live the remainder of his life on the mortal plane. However, should he begin to meddle with celestial affairs, the court’s ability to interfere will be reinstated. Does that sound fair?” 

Finally, his thoughts return to him, his breath tracing his bow. “You have my word, Your Imperial Majesty.” 

“Then this court is dismissed.” 

Nezha barely registers he’s lit a sigil beneath himself before the Celestial Court begins to fade. 

But it’s not relief that floods his mind as the familiar buzz of the mortal plane returns to him. 

Oddly enough, it’s guilt he finds suppressing his relief. 

It has no place here , he decides but it does little to quell the feeling. 

The house’s doorknob twists at the same time his stomach curls, heels feeling rooted to the ground. He almost didn’t want to open it; his appearance would declare whatever chaos Jinzha and Xiaotian had gotten themselves into done for. And considering the Jade Emperor’s terms, said chaos would never happen again. 

Jinzha may distance himself from the celestial realm, but his brother’s interaction with Xiaotian would still be considered meddling celestial affairs. 

Finally Nezha pushes forward, the door swinging to reveal little life within the house. It’s almost eerie; Jinzha may enjoy a form of peace, but the chaotic nature of Xiaotian was something he’d never asked to be relieved from. 

He can only blame their lack of mortality that made them seek youthful chaos. 

“Jinzha-?” 

There’s a beat before Jinzha practically materializes in front of him, Nezha nearly choking at the elbow thrown at his throat. If not for the notes of playfulness in the other’s movement, Nezha would’ve assumed that he wanted to keep Xiaotian. 

“Wha- what’s going on?” 

“Sh!” Jinzha hushes, almost sounding desperate. “You’re going to wake him-” 

Nezha’s jaw snaps shut with a click, quickly making his way toward the living room. 

True to the other’s word, Xiaotian is fast asleep, curled around a pile of blankets. He looks…at peace. Unaware of the changes that’d affect the rest of his life. 

He quickly turns back toward Jinzha before he can lose himself again in thought, raising an eyebrow to accompany his whispers. “What’s your secret?” 

Getting Xiaotian to fall asleep had always been the one thing Nezha couldn’t figure out, not that it mattered much anymore. Xiaotian would be gone by the next morning. 

“We went out.” 

Oh, yeah. That’d definitely tire him out. 

But that was new for these sorts of visitations. Jinzha didn’t have celestial powers, only having been granted immortality, and such a thing heavily limited where Xiaotian could be taken- 

“You took him out without any illusions?!” 

Jinzha only shrugs, grin far too smug for Nezha to believe he’s the eldest of the family. “Calm down, Xiaotian loved it. 

“And,” Jinzha sings. “I think I found the one.” 

“Already? Jinzha, it’s only been a couple hours!” 

“I told you I’d have it figured out when you returned.” 

“But- without illusions? And how do we know they’re a good- Jinzha!” 

His brother's shoulders only shake with soft laughter. 

Heavens above, this is actually happening. Xiaotian’s been banished from the Heavens and now Jinzha’s found whoever’s meant to take care of him. 

He feels like a bucket of water’s been tipped over him. 

Nezha jumps when Jinzha clasps a hand on his shoulder and he nearly has half a mind to wipe the empathetic look on the other’s face. “Look, I adore that kid just as much as you, Nezha. He’s going to be in good hands.” 

At an instant, his frustration evaporates to make room for the melancholy mood of the room. 

“He’s not unlike the father you never got to meet,” Jinzha murmurs, whose confession sings a taunt of its own. The statement isn’t meant to bite the way it does- as far as the older was concerned, Nezha never wishes he’d seen the gentle side of his father anyway. 

It doesn’t stop the ringing sorrow that sounds in his ears. 

After all, there exists a reason of why only Nezha and Jinzha had lived past the curse of mortality that’d forsaken the other two souls of their family, leaving two brothers bonded by the harsh snare of immortality and desperation for a peaceful life they could have- in another life -shared as kind, mortal siblings. 

“Humanity has wronged him before,” the older admits and it is not a phrase that calms the fear running vibrant through Nezha’s mind. “But he’s not interested in pursuing revenge. He wants to be better; better and more kind than those who shamed him. He will treat Xiaotian well.” 

“And if he doesn’t?”  

For once his voice does not place demand for the room’s attention, face turned aside as though unwilling to face his own cruel game of devil’s advocate.  

“Nezha,” his brother’s voice acts as a balm, soothing as it glides over the other’s shameless burn of desperation. “Look at Xiaotian now.”  

And quickly does Nezha find the infant curled innocently upon the red shaded couch of his older brother, fur a darkening shade of brown rising and falling in rhythm to the sluggish tugs of his small heart.  

“What if his fur was grey instead of brown? Or a nightmare caused him to roll off the edge of the couch?”  

“I’d be right there to catch him,” Nezha admits, “Grey, black, gold. I’d be there.”  

“And if he fell while you were away?”  

Then upon his return, he would sink low to the ground, if only to share the dust bunnies that’d cling to both Xiaotian and himself as he gingerly collected the illusion of safety that’d been broken in the infant’s fall. It would be his own admissions of apology and vows for a more restful nap that’d glue the pieces back together until Xiaotian was smiling once more.  

He would exist as the guardian angel Nezha had yearned the Heavens to give him amidst his younger years, and spread his wings if only to guard Xiaotian from the arrows of spat insults.  

Nezha’s gaze finally dares to meet that of his brother’s, Jinzha’s expression one of gentle understanding.  

“I know it’s hard, but trust my judgement. The swine will love this child as if he was his own. Some mortals are funny that way.” 

[nectaric]

repost and rate your muse's traits out of 10 in each category !

★  ⸻   COMPASSION: 4/10. hera is not unempathetic, and does care deeply about others in some regard - but she also has a very tough love mentality, and while she feels for those who suffer, she's hardly about to become a sweet and nurturing person just because someone is having a hard time.

★  ⸻   BITTERNESS: 8/10. hera is very bitter about the horrible things she has endured, and can be very inclined to hold a grudge.

★  ⸻   HAPPINESS: 5/10. hera is very pleased with her life on the surface level. she is queen of a powerful kingdom, has numerous children to be proud of, a successful and handsome husband who, despite his faults, loves her a lot. she is powerful and wise and beautiful, clever and strong. she should be happy, but ultimately, hera has a lot of envy and bitterness in her that sours her experience. she is surrounded by people who remind her of her pain. not to mention, her job is incredibly stressful.

★  ⸻   POLITENESS: 6/10. manners are important to hera for the sake of diplomacy, and she stands very firm in maintaining a polite and well-mannered facade when it comes to her official duties... but in her personal life, hera does not pull punches. she tells it how it is, and doesn't care if it comes across a little rude.

★  ⸻   MORALITY: 5/10. its not that hera is incapable of seeing right from wrong, or upholding it in other people - punishing the wicked, uplifting the do-gooders, etc... but she also doesn't care sometimes. if putting the interests of her loved ones first is wrong, or getting violent revenge on those who do her wrong is evil, or if meddling in the lives of mortals is wrong... then so be it.

★  ⸻   CHIVALRY: 7/10. i would say this is fairly high for her, simply because things like honour, courage, and justice are very important qualities to her. and as a little bit of a romantic, she likes the idea of chivalry, too.

★  ⸻   PRIDE: 9/10. hera is incredibly prideful, rarely willing to admit when she's done wrong or made a mistake. she stands by her views steadfastly, and can be incredibly vain about things like money, looks, or good standing.

★  ⸻   HONESTY: 8/10. again, hera will always tell it how it is, even if it might hurt others. the only times she lies is for political gain or to redirect unwanted attention at herself. a classic "i'm fine" if you will.

★  ⸻   BRAVERY: 8/10. hera fears very little, and even when she does, she faces it pretty head on. she is willing to do difficult things, even when afraid.

★  ⸻   RECKLESSNESS: 3/10. in her youth, hera was far more hot-headed and reckless, but she has simmered down a lot in her older years. angry, sure. but she is far more measured in her decisions, even when those decisions are made in anger.

★  ⸻   AMBITION: 10/10. there is nothing in this world hera will not have if she sets her mind on having it. she was not always so ambitious - being queen, for example, was a nice thought but not a necessity. now that she has it though, success is one of her greatest desires.

★  ⸻   LOYALTY: 8/10. faithful? absolutely. loyal? most of the time. she can be unwavering in her support of those she cares for - to a point. if they hurt her too much, she will turn on them. case and point, zeus.

★  ⸻   LOVE: 9/10. i think one of hera's most redeeming qualities is the love she holds for those around her. it might not seem like your typical kind of love, but everything she does is for those she loves. (aside from success) the only other thing she has ever wanted was to be loved, and give of herself as much love as she can muster.

★  ⸻   SENSE OF FAMILY: 10/10. family is everything to her. not only as her domain, but who she is. she just sometimes has a funny way of showing it.

★  ⸻   ATTRACTIVENESS: 10/10. maybe i'll start a trojan war 2.0 with this comment, but hera is easily the hottest lady on olympus and you cannot change my mind.

★  ⸻   AGILITY: 10/10. hera is in peak physical performance, and agility is one of her strong suits. she's quick, and she's nimble, and her skill with a bow speaks for this ranking.

★  ⸻   SEX DRIVE: 8-9/10. she is so horny all the time, zeus really lucked out with this one tbh. life just sometimes gets in the way.

[flightfoot]

I know everyone has weak stomachs for it, but if this show were more ambitious, this would be the ideal time for a temporary Adrien and Lila team up.

Consider it: Adrien just spent the past season putting his foot down. He unfriended Chloe. He stopped trying to give Lila the benefit of the doubt. He trashed his dad's pancakes to his face. There's evidence that he is done giving people so many chances and it would be really ironic if he took Felix, Kagami and Marinette's own advice against them. The former told him to get a backbone and stop letting people screw him around in so many words. Marinette told him that sometimes the good we see in others is just a reflection of our own goodness. Imagine him taking all that to heart, but against them.

Secondly, he's been on edge all Season 5, acting outside of himself and almost attacking people. Combine that with his dad being gone. He no longer has the invisible restraints of having to uphold the Agreste name. He has complete control over his choices AND he's about to receive a dozen terrible secrets. He could be a loose canon for a while.

Thirdly, Lila serves as a twisted mirror to Adrien. Lila is what happens when someone uses empathy and knowing what people want against them- for personal gain. Adrien has always used those things to be liked and to help others. But when he discovers that all these people that he wanted the esteem of/helped were keeping world crushing secrets from him/weren't taking him seriously, he might be resentful enough to see more value in her way of thinking for a time, possibly just out of spite.

Fourthly, Adrien has the capacity for this, for spite, and that's been narratively proven. It makes him reckless, aggressive and/or moody. It causes him to project his issues onto others who aren't always deserving of it. He's been cold to or ditched Ladybug in battle momentarily. He's verbally lashed out at Felix's and Scarabella's insecurities, showing that he is capable of wielding empathy as a weapon too. He shows this sparingly under Gabriel's control, only as Chat Noir. Now Gabriel is gone and he has 10 times the reason to be pushed to the edge. Adrien is extremely resilient and kind, but even the kindest people have a breaking point.

Fifthly, you might say Adrien would never team up with Lila because she used and lied to him too in the past. But he knew she was a snake most of the time. It's different when someone you trusted so intrinsically hurts you/lies to you like Marinette or Felix or Kagami or Nathalie or his parents. Sometimes, especially if you are feeling spiteful or resentful, the enemy of your enemy is your temporary friend.

And hey... even if Adrien refuses to team up with 'Lila' because of trust issues, that's okay. She has like 20 more identities and the miraculous cast are not very good with telling those apart. She can weasel into his good graces as Cerise or whatever and do some incredible psychological manipulation, using truth to bring him to her side against Marinette.

I'm not saying this spiteful team up would last. It totally wouldn't. Adrien and Lila's values do not align. He'd come to his senses by seeing the extent of her ruthlessness or realizing who she is. This duo will crumble at the first pull of tension and they'll turn on one another. But it would be an interesting turn of events, it would be realistic for someone whose been through what Adrien has and it would be a great challenge for Maribug and the rest of the team.

I know they probably won't do it. Or they won't do it well. But I'm not afraid of the pain and character exploration and I'd love to see it.

Oh I highly doubt this would happen in the show. I could see her revealing those secrets to Adrien and getting him to doubt his friends, to be frustrated and snap at them, but I just can't see it getting beyond him being snippy and cold for a day or two. I don't think it's physically possible for him to stay mad at Marinette especially, he loves her too much.

This is an interesting, dramatic idea that could be good for character development, I agree with you on that, but pulling it off in a way that still feels in-character for Adrien would be VERY tricky.

[r-nemesh]

The Knitter

Valentines was a beautiful day. Filled with love, romance, and flowers. A day where couples proclaimed their love for each other every year. For her? It was torture. Every Valentine’s day she would walk around, and every Valentine’s day she would hear the screams of thousands relationships built on lies. The screams that demand that cheaters and abusers be brought to justice. She wanted nothing more than to get rid of this curse disguised as a blessing. However, she was the Knitter. Designer and creator of relationships. She knits strings of yellow, red, and white. To connect people to their lovers and friends. At first, she loved it, bringing happiness and joy to everyone. However, people turned evil, and in response, she turned ruthless and merciless. Years of seeing people hurt others in the name of ‘love’ and. ‘good’, she grew bitter. She vowed to uphold love, and protect those wronged in the name of it. She punished the dirty cheats that dared cross her. She protected those who were hurt by those they loved. She was named the Guardian of Love, Hope to the victims, and a Monster to those that wronged her. So, be warned, for she is always watching.

[bisognamorire]

Dear A.,

Happy Saturday!

I feel a bit stupid and pathetic to leave these messages here for you, because for all I know you might not even look at my blog. At least thats what I remember you telling me in a letter. I still hope that they might reach you somehow, somewhen. I had to think of how you agreed to me as we drove to Grasmere, ‘it was so horrible when we didn’t speak last year’. Why did it happen again?

Why, why, why.

Last week, after getting your message and realising I didn’t have the option to send my ‘goodbye’ message to you and wondering why you avoided using the word ‘love’ in regards to me and instead used ‘care’, I became so unwell that I needed desperately to be around people and keep myself from the need to harm myself.

I visited Sharon every day a few hours in the evening or afternoon. At some point she told me that her boyfriend was complaining about me visiting them and that I was annoying him by just seeming ‘down’ and that shes scared he might break up with her because I need so much support. I felt awful. Like I am unwanted wherever I turn to and that I cause harm everywhere. I told Sh. that I wouldn’t visit anymore out of fear that i might endanger her relationship but also out of feeling unwelcome. Seemingly unhappy with that arrangement too, Sh. started berating me for an hour. I want to give you a selection of things she concluded about me:

1. it is my own fault that I don’t have any friends because of ‘how’ i am

2. i don’t even want/ try to be not-depressed

3. the 10 years I’ve been to therapy in total were completely useless because in her opinion I have not progressed an inch

4. I am not making any effort to live ‘independently’ ((despite me literally doing that))

I asked her at least three times to leave my flat while she was ranting to me, but she refused and kept hurting me with those words. My brain switched into dissociation mode then.

People always speak of how we need to destigmatize the mentally ill etc. yet when I show symptoms of being depressed, all my relatives and friends are blowing in the wind. Seems like its more an ideal they’d like to uphold and not a reality that they want to actually bear. people always reveal themselves with their actions.

This week I tried to meet with the few friends I have. Some of those meetings helped me distract myself for a while with mindless chatter and others wounded me more, for example, with Fatma, who treated me harshly and basically kicked me out of her home. I think she didn’t do it out of bad intent. She is just very stressed because of always being at work. I wonder why so many people don't realise that their jobs are killing their joy in life and make them so irritated that they treat everyone around them like shit and why they don’t take action against it. But still, I’ve had enough of people kicking me out of their lives and homes.

Apart from all these things (as you can see, the people around me are little comfort to me) I bought a few tools and paints to create my Yamato (One Piece) cosplay. So, now, when I am not at work, I play my video game ‘Lies of P’ (I’m at that boss fight against Fuoco) or to tinker on the cosplay or take naps. It is good to occupy my mind by trying to figure out how to create things for the cosplay. I don’t get into repetitive thoughts about you and everything when I am doing that.

The other day I formed Yamato’s horns out of Foam Clay.

Yesterday I spray painted them with a layer of liquid plastic and then coloured them with Acrylics.

Since Yamato is a demon, he was shackled but he broke free at some point. I also made his shackles out of EVA foam and I will hopefully paint them today after work.

I miss you horribly and I wish I could cry and weep about your decision to not be in my life anymore or have any part of me in yours. But due to dissociation, I can’t cry these days. I just feel like this empty black hole that threatens to even swallow up itself if I don’t keep my mind preoccupied.

I just sit and stare at the ceiling. I go over your last message to me over and over in my mind and get into panic attacks when I try to think of what you’re doing, how you’re doing because I realise we’ve never not spoken in such a long time and I don’t know anything about you anymore. Most of the time this takes up so much energy of me, that in the end I just rot in bed.

I wish I could know how you’re doing and what's going on in your life, too. Before you asked me not to, I would check your blog but there wasn’t really much that would give anything away and since I also misunderstood the meaning of that greek song (did I really?) I wonder what else I might misunderstand, even if there is any hint. When I don’t see anything I get very disappointed and feel very hurt, so I try not to check it anymore but I feel desperate to. I sometimes wonder how you don't have the same urge to reach out to me and know how I am etc. and it hurts too.

I want to say ‘don’t be a stranger’, and I try not to be one to you by writing these and I wish you’d also not be one to me.

Your Sabo, who loves you.

[anxiousnerdwritings]

(Based off of something I mentioned in this ask.)

Dear (Name),

We have not interacted with each other very much but we have crossed paths a few times. More times then not the few interactions we did have were mainly negative and I apologize for that but I have a certain image and family reputation I must uphold, especially in front of others. But I have been watching you, watching how you interact with others and what kind of person you seem to be. It has made me want to introduce myself properly to you and genuinely get to know you, to experience what so many others have seemed to grow so attached to you for, but I have not yet found the right time to do so or how to go about it. Therefore, given the things I have seen for myself and the fact that you overall seem like a sincere person just trying to survive with what has been dealt to them I couldn’t just stand by and watch you being played and lied to by the people you believe to be your friends.

I had not really had any intention to reach out to you this way or write to you at all. But I thought you should know something very important and I know you wouldn’t have believed me if I came to you in person. This letter will not be inherently positive given the circumstances it is concerning and I sincerely apologize for what you are about to become aware of but you should not be in the dark about it. Especially, when it concerns so many people you have grown so close to and fond of.

Attached to this letter is a petition that had been started before you first took a position at Hogwarts. Word had gotten around about an obscurus being brought into Hogwarts and out of fear, worry and repulsion someone had taken it upon themself to take action. The petition was demanding you not to be allowed at the school as well as near the staff and students in attendance who reside at the castle. The petition had been stopped early on before it really took off but it had still gained plenty of signatures. Signatures you may come to recognize for yourself.

One very glaring signature was from the very mother of the Weasley children who you have grown so attached to and vice versa. Notice how she was one of the top signatures on the list of names, meaning she was one of the first to rush and sign against you. And yet she has welcomed you into her home, has made you a part of her family and has the audacity to act Saint like. As if she had not tried to ruin your chances at making a living for yourself or getting to experience and feel some kind of ounce of acceptance and belonging.

How will you be able to continue to have a woman who had gone against you so hastily like that as someone worthy of being a part of your life?

Would she have ever told you that she took part in taking action against you?

Will you be able to see any of the teachers the same given that a number of their names had been signed as well?

How will you bring yourself to look at, let alone be around, the children of those who never wanted you around in the first place?

I know if it were me, I would cut those people out of my life entirely. As you should. They are not worth your time or friendship, let alone to be brought into your life as family. I do hope you heed my advice, you truly do not need people like that in your company.

After reading all of this and being blindsided by this information I am sure that you must feel unbelievably hurt and betrayed right now but you needed to know. Although, I am sorry I had to be the one to relay it to you but someone had to.

With regards,

D.M.

[bonefall]

how does the fire scene play out in your redux?

Had a whole thing written out and Tumblr crashed and deleted my post again :/ take 2

The Fire Scene's one of those things that, because of a bunch of my reduxes, can't exist the way that it does in canon.

Adopted kits are valued just as much as regular kits ergo she can't have a reverse psychology "Ok fine kill them it won't hurt me" moment. The Queen's Rights also means that she did not have a social obligation to reveal the father of her kits (though many cats in the clan will think it was a dick move she didn't tell Bramble)

But I do need to preserve Ashfur's motivation that he's scorned by her rejecting him. It's important that he wants to possess and hurt her because he is an incel... though, I do want to weave in something about the "Kin of your Kin" prophecy reaching him and adding an element that they should be dead because their power could threaten ThunderClan (which is from my Villain Thornclaw AU, and imo a much better motivation behind the Fire Scene in general. Especially since it connects thematically to The Broken Code.)

Fragments, rough outline:

-I'm going to change the logistics a bit; Squirrelflight is trying to push a tree down for the Three to climb up. Ashfur interrupts this action

-"My quarrel is with you!" They brawl here, Ash wants to force her to watch her kids die

-I'm thinking she lets loose the secret to disarm him for a moment, "ok. kill them. they aren't my kits so i dont care" "Wait-- what? Wait! No you're lying you turned around go go back into th-" SQUILF KICKKK

-Maybe she even kicked him so hard she launched him into the tree, knocking it over. Girlboss. let my cats do anime battles

-This is when the three start coming up the tree, but Ash obviously is trying to stop that. Lionblaze gets to run up and slap his bald head

-Lion can have a moment here, if it's fitting, that he isn't capable of killing Ash and feels ashamed of his monstrous powers. He was his mentor-- in this rewrite, a mentor is emotionally like another parent. He's overwhelmed by hurt, betrayal, and thinks back to all the things Ashfur did that hurt him

-In general I really need to hammer out what their mentor/apprentice dynamic was like, and how it affected Lionblaze's personality. Thinking about it now, it's super important for this scene

-hmm... maybe I can tie the prophecy-motivation back in here, and have THIS be the moment where they logically work out Leafpool is their parent. "They aren't Squilf's kits, BUT Lionblaze obviously has star powers, so they must be Kin of Firestar's Kin through someone else! Ergo the only logical choice is LEAFPOOL"

-but like... y'know, less smartly worded.

-Anyway Ashfur runs. This is also the last story beat in Hollyleaf's Po3 arc; the last betrayal she can take before she begins her villain descent.

Post-Fire Consequences:

-Ashfur... he can't just walk off scot free, in any case, Firestar or Bramblestar (depending on if Firestar is dead yet) wouldn't let an attempted murderer stay in the Clan

-Maybe Hollyleaf kills him purely out of revenge? For how he hurt his mom, his brother, how he threatened his family. she deserves a lil revenge tbhhh

-Maybe Firestar died somewhere else during the fire and killing Ashfur right now could look like part of the same murder. Especially since Fire could have "black fur" in his claws too because Breezepelt does it. (tfw you and your evil half-bro are drowning two guys in the same creek and there's an awkward silence /j)

-When Brambleclaw/star finds out, he's upset that Squilf lied to him. That's understandable. If he's -Star by this point, he demotes her as deputy immediately because he can no longer trust her and she helped conceal a crime.

-ThunderClan is NOT completely in favor of this. Opinions are super mixed; some agree that a leader has to be able to trust their deputy. Others say Squilf was upholding the warrior code by protecting the kits. Others think it's fair for Bramble to be mad, but that Squilf was the best choice for a deputy and his personal anger is clouding his decision (a sign of a bad leader)

-Overall though, Bramble's reputation takes the larger hit here. The Thistle Law-leaning supporters who don't respect the Queen's Rights didn't like Squirrelflight politically to begin with.

-Also this is the beginning of the end of Bramblesquirrel in my rewrite. She never gets back with him romantically after how he acts in Bonefall OotS, though she does, briefly, consider it in Squirrelflight's Horror. (I think the title of that redux says everything about how 'Great' of an idea that is.)

So In Conclusion

This is the second-to-last major conflict of Bonefall Po3 before we end the arc and go to Bonefall OotS, and the widely accepted end of the Power Era as Inter-Clan political relationships sour, with no proper Fire Alone leadership to smooth tensions.

I would like to have one final Clan battle after the Fire Scene to set that up, after which Hollyleaf vanishes into the tunnels. If I was renaming the books of each arc (which I haven't yet just because none of my outlines are truly detailed enough yet to really outline 6 individual books), Sunrise would become Cruel Season.

In Cruel Season, we also get the birth of Jayfeather's kits, adopted by Lionblaze in a parallel to Leafpool.

Feel free to leave suggestions and feedback on parts that are good, and what's not working about this. It's still WIP territory.

[vquacki]

It's My Fatherly Duties!

It's My Fatherly Duties!

Short DAD Scenarios 

Characters: BONTEN - Rindou Haitani, Ran Haitani, Sanzu Haruchiyo

~ Inui Seishu, Kokonoi Hajime, Izana Kurokawa, 

~ Souya Kawata (Angry), Nahoya Kawata (Smiley)

Warning ⚠︎︎ : Mature content, cussing, MINORS DNI

Note : requested, I added some characters. Hope ya don’t mind! These are pretty short, just little things I put together. Word barf kinda..? Anyways- I hope you enjoy :))

R I N D O U 

His lashes fluttered open when he heard a loud crash coming from the hallway, along with a string of cuss words sounding like his daughter's voice. 

“What the hell was that?” You groaned, not a single word was uttered from your husband when he sprung out of bed, bolting to the bedroom down the corridor.

“Tohru?!” Rindou yelled, flinging open the door. Revealing your teenage daughter fully dressed, half way through her second story window. A facade of pillows under her blanket seeminging meant to be her ‘sleeping body’.

“Oh dad, I-”

“What the hell are you doing” The man was fuming by the ears, pajamas ruffled when he jolted out of his slumber. 

“Is Tohru okay?” You peeked from behind the broad shouldered man. 

“I was just going to get fresh air!” Your daughter lied, making up a somewhat excuse to appease her angered father. 

“Hey Tohru! Hurry up and get down here!” You heard a boy's voice call out, looking over at Rindou’s face to see the man's darkened expression.

“Who the fuck is down there? Is that a boy?!” He growled, stomping his feet over to the glass. Pushing past his daughter to take a look. 

“Oh shit- her dads here. Let’s book it!” The kids whispered, but loud enough for Rindou to make out, hastily running down the dark street. 

“You little shits! Don't you dare come back here!” Rindou growled, slamming the window shut in the process. 

“What! Dad!” Tohru whined, 

“You're so grounded young lady!” Rindou shouted, not caring for the sleeping neighbors beside his shared condo at three in the morning. 

“Rin, she was just having some fun!” You defended, you were also like her when you were her age, trouble makers run in your blood. Actually Rindou couldn't even talk- he was running roppongi at her age.  

“No! She's just too young to be hanging out with boys!” Rindou’s brows joined together as he withered in front of you. 

“But we dated when we were her age-” You deadpanned at him, 

“Grounded! My final answer!” 

R A N  

Ran was coming home from a late night bonten meeting, mouth agape when he saw his daughter’s feet dangling out from her window. 

Fearing the worst he sprinted to the ground below his child, hands outstretched to catch her if she were to misstep. 

“Mitsuri!” His voice boomed,

“Eh? Dad?!” His daughter stuttered, slowly slid out the window, climbing down like she had done this many times prior to this awkward occurrence. 

Toes easily touching the grass with ease, not a scratch upon the females porcelain skin. 

“Ran?” You yawned, cracking the door ajar. It was late, you waking up to your husband's screams outside your house. 

“Mitsuri, what are you doing climbing out your window like a maniac?!” Ran scowled, hands running through his messed up hair. Sweat dripping down his temple from the not so pleasant adrenaline rush. 

“I was just gonna hang out with some friends..” your daughter answered, fingers gripping the edge of her shirt, scarily waiting for her dad’s reaction. 

“At this time of night? .. out your window?”

“Ye-”

“Phone privileges. Give me it.” Ran demanded, palm stretched out. 

“But-” no question she was a tad bit spoiled by her father. You being the bad cop, while your husband played the good cop for his beloved daughter. 

“If you want to go anywhere all you got to do is ask!” Ran plucked the phone from his daughter's hand, a wave of relief washing over him. Secretly thanking whatever being watching over him that it wasn't some sort of gang related subject. 

“This is what you get for spoiling her!” You laughed from the sidelines, hand clutching your stomach.

“This is your fault too ya know!” Ran argued. 

“I’m the one who tries to discipline her! But someone always lets it go!” You emphasized the special somebody. 

“Whatever” Ran sighed, This was a lesson for the usual carefree man, a special lesson he wouldn't forget in the many years to come with his unborn future children. 

S A N Z U 

It was Sanzu’s best day of his life when his daughters were born, the two only being about one year apart. They were spoiled to the core, anything they wanted their money liberl father blessed them with. He thought they were the sweetest things ever, them both being a daddy's girl after all. 

He never would have expected to see both of his daughters outside his humble abode, standing beside two boys, most likely a double date. 

He stared in shock, hands pressed firmly against the glass, teeth gritting. 

“Huh? I tucked them into bed an hour ago” You rubbed your eyes, riding yourself of the sleepiness threatening to drown you. The pink haired only tutted his teeth, swifty twisting the door knob to confront the four children outside. 

“Oh you better run” your oldest daughter whispered, gesturing for the boys to make haste from her deadly father. 

“You better not come back here, unless you want trouble you fuckers!” Sanzu yelled, red in the eyes from anger. Not bothering to chase after the two scoundrels. 

“Dad, mom! What are you guys doing awake?” Your youngest asked, sheer panic in her eyes, watching her insane fathers unpleasant smile. 

“I swear you two will be the death of me” Sanzu uttered, shoving his hands into his pockets. A irked gleen in his orbs as he stared them down. 

“They were just friends dad, stop overreacting” the older daughter said, 

“I- You little shi-” He bit his lip to suppress his anger fueled words, knowing well it would definitely hurt his precious children's feelings. Having regretted it later if he were to say those sinful words. 

“Now now Sanzu, let's head to bed” You wrapped your arms around your lover, dragging him inside the house. 

“You can sort out their punishment tomorrow, after a good night's sleep” , coating him with reassuring words. That day he learned how misjudged he was of his children, even so he still loved them with all his heart.

I Z A N A 

Izana had his feet kicked up, relaxing in his office while he watched the moon. He had a clear view, the street lamps positioned next to the sidewalk, the side of his beautiful house facing his office window. He was enjoying his free time, mind taking over his body while he thought about his life choices. He was in ease until he saw his son's window light up, a long string of rope being tossed out the opening. 

Sitting up from his chair, he rushed over to his clear casement. Throwing his window open, a boy and girl standing beneath his son's window. The two holding the rope still as your child tried to slid down. 

“My my Yuki, where are you off to?” Izana laughed, nerves finally relaxing when he figured out what was going on. Calmly settling into the frame, head leaning on his chin. It wasn't like he had the right to be upset, he did much worse when he was his son's age. Robbing, fighting, killing. You name it, Izana’s done it. 

Sneaking out was nothing compared to what he did, but he wasn't gonna just let his son go. He was more wise now, he knew for a fact he didn't want his son to end up anything like him. Sure, he wanted the boy to have fun, but in a normal kid way. 

“Dad! Um- I”

“You better get your arse back up that window before I drag you around with that rope” Izana smiled, Totally different from the sentence he was portraying. Not forgetting his manners, giving a nonchalant wave to the other two kids. 

“Zana? Who are you talking to?” You asked, placing a cup of tea you had prepared for Izana on his desk. 

“Oh no one doll” Izana answered, closing the window before walking over to you. 

“Let's go to bed, yeah?” He proposed, trailing his hands around your shoulders, guiding you to the door.

“But the tea I made”

“Im tired~” 

Overall the male wouldn't want to talk further about the situation, nor would he discuss it with you. Trivial matters held no place between you both, as long as the child did not dare do it again. 

I N U I 

Inui wiped the sweat dripping from his forehead, the AC wasnt working at the motor shop. Him, draken and yourself were sweating bullets, the hot material around you not helping. You had decided to help the pair around the shop, cleaning what you could. Or helping with cashing every customer out, it would've been an easy task if it wasn't blazing hot. 

Leaving your daughter home alone, obviously thinking she’d stay and do her teenage things. You couldn't be more mistaken, astounded as you watched her fiddle around with a boy across the street at the ice cream parlor. 

“Y/N please don't tell me that Kagura..” Inui’s jaw dropped, the wrench that was once in his clasp dropping to the ground. Startling the concentrating Draken that was crouched over a motorbike. 

“What's wrong Inui? Y/N” Draken twisted his body around, raising a brow when you two just started muttering to each other like two creeps. 

“Is that... a boy” Inui held his chin between his fingers, squinting to get a better view of his kid. 

“You trying to catch flies with your mouth Inui? Close your yap” You whispered, 

“Y/N! She's too young, I feel like I just held her in my arms not too long ago. She can't get married just yet!” Inui argued, he would've been on the verge of tears if he didn't have a reputation to uphold. 

“What? The fuck are you on Inui? She's probably just with a friend!” You patted his back, reassuring the man. 

“Boys and girls can be friends ya’know” you added.

Cueing the two children across the road from you, feeding scoops of ice cream to each other.

“I don't think friends do that..” Inui looked over at you, eyes widening when you swung the motor shop’s door open. Hands coming around your mouth to amplify your words,

“Kagura, is that your boyfriend?” 

“WHAT?” Inui almost fainted, the ledge behind him holding his wobbly frame up right. 

“I didn't know you guys would be here!” Your daughter jogged across the street, leaving the boy sitting by himself. 

“And no! Just a friend” She answered your embarrassing, blushing as she stared down at the ground.,

“I sense some lies” you wiggled playfully at the flustered girl. 

“What! Anyways, Sorry I left the house without telling you” Kagura apologized, 

“Just don't do it again, without my permission..” Inui stated, 

“Especially not with a boy.”

K O K O N O I

Bribing people is his forte, and if they did not obliged? Threatening always did the trick. 

And that's exactly what he did when he saw his descendant out with a male. All was dandy until the boy came running back, babbling about how his girl was the so called ‘love of his life’.

“Hey brat, you got a death wish?” Kokonoi asked, leaning against the door frame. 

“Koko go easy on him, he’s just a kid” You nudged the man, a mischievous grin plastered on the males face. 

“And I kinda think it's cute” You said, a small smile erupting from your daughter that was not so far behind her parents. 

“I approve, kid! I like your romantic drive!” You clapped, 

“Y/N!” Kokonoi pouted, 

“You better not try to bribe him with money again” You threatened, waving a finger at the whiny man. 

“Yeah! I like him too, dad!” Your daughter agreed. 

“You're like twelve, go play chess or something” Kokonoi barked, crossing his arms in disapproval. 

“Dad, I'm sixteen!” 

“That's what I said” 

S O U Y A 

He almost had a panic attack at the sight, having to shield the man from the scene playing out. Your twin daughter saying their goodbyes to their dates, followed by a kiss. You removed your hand when the boys were no longer in view, riding off in their motorcycles. 

“Shira, Nihra” You held Souya up by the shoulder, the light headed male limping towards the worried kids.

“What's wrong with dad?” Nihra questioned, eyeing her ghostly pale father. 

“He's out of it” You giggled, 

“I'm not crazy am i?” He stood tall, letting go of the arm you had draped around him. 

“There was boys-” His voice cracked. 

“You saw that dad?” Shira sweat dropped, watching as her fathers should leave his body. 

“Next time ask before you go out” You smiled, you weren't too strict on the two. They were Souya’s children, earning most of their adorable traits from him. Even his fighting skills. 

“This better not happen again, i'm trusting you” Souya grumbled.

“Sorry pops” The two girls remorsefully sollied the man, both hooking onto one of Souya’s arms as they helped his shell into the house. 

N A H O Y A 

Nahoya was beyond pissed, infamous smile widening. Taking fast steps towards your daughter and her significant other. 

“Look boy, I don't know who you are. But my daughters not up for grabs” Nahoya grinned, cracking his fingers. 

“O-okay sir” the boy was jittering, body trembling from the males intense arua. 

“If I catch ya here again” he used his finger to slash his neck, motioning to the death that would happily greet the boy if they were to ever meet again.

“Yer dead meat kiddo”  Nahoya laughed, watching as the boy ran for his life. 

“Dad, that was really extra!” Your daughter sneered, a pout on her lips. 

“Shut up!, you're grounded rat!” Nahoya shouted. 

“Yeah Nahoya, there was no need to threaten the poor kid. He looked like he was gonna piss himself.” 

“Exactly the effect i wanted”

End Note : as I said this was a word barf T-T, so it’s quite short.

Reblogs & Notes are always appreciated! Take care! ♡︎♡︎

[butwhatifidothis]

No. No way…

So you’re telling me Captain is gonna have Dedue choose to stay with and work alongside Woobiegard and crew WILLINGLY after having to suffer Dimitri’s death (AKA the loss of the last person alive who meant the world to Dedue) at their hands because everything’s suddenly all cool with Dedue because the racism stuff with Ingrid (that wasn’t even properly used in the fic in the first place) was solved with a “I’m sowwy 🥺” and now Dedue is totally down with Woobiegard’s invasion of Faerghus that will absolutely make Faerghus a better place that Dimitri would’ve loved (even though Dimitri was totally obsessed with Woobiegard and a Scary Man™️ and all that junk so why bothering to even consider what he would’ve wanted at this point is ?????) and TOTALLY help out Duscur (even though Woobiegard isn’t genuinely shown to give a rat’s ass about Dedue’s homeland at any point in canon or this fic so why would she start now and have it make any sense) and not AT ALL spit on Dimitri’s death and everything he believed in and fought for.

Yup.

Like, sometimes I have to hand it to Cap'n, in that juuuuust when I think shit can't get lower I end up falling just that much farther down the Mariana Trench that is this fic. Because I honestly can not stress it enough that Dedue is nothing more than a prop to make Ingrid look better in this chapter. If not the whole fic, arguably. Seteth too, while we're at it. All they've ever done when Cap'n deigns to give them speaking lines is act in ways that make Ingrid look good.

Chapter 36, she tries to reason with Dedue despite his oh so horrible act of violence, and she's so saddened when he rejects her words.

Any time Seteth appears, Ingrid is portrayed as righteously indignant over the oh so horrible lies and deceit Seteth filled her head with, standing up for herself against him, before finally showing him "undeserved" mercy and forgiveness because she's just become so kind.

And Chapter 60, where Ingrid shows off how much she's grown from her hatred by trying to give Dedue a new life and by giving the aforementioned "undeserved" forgiveness to Seteth, all out of a want to help those she once hated

All the while Dedue and Seteth are nothing more than obstacles to Ingrid's path to self-betterment. Dedue is wrong to hate the ones that actively ruined his life and murdered the man he loved, Seteth is wrong to want to protect his daughter from people who've shown themselves willing to hurt her to get what they want, and Ingrid is right to show them the error of their ways. They're nothing more than "targets of [Ingrid's] anger" to her, after all. She wants things to be easy for her, after all. She doesn't give a shit about them and their feelings, all she wants is to feel better about herself and reaffirm that she's a "good person."

And now the result of Ingrid's treatment of Dedue and Seteth are coming around: Seteth is now willing to fight - and potentially kill - his own sister, one of the last living members of their entire race (or alternatively, he's insultingly trying to get that sister to see the "merit" in their abuser's side), for people who explicitly hate him for being a certain race - all because some girly who's physically assaulted him multiple times told him He Was Mean To Her. Dedue is now willing to help the side HE BELIEVES, RIGHT NOW, PRESENTLY, to be ultimately the ones responsible for the GENOCIDE OF HIS PEOPLE (and who had LITERALLY JUST GOTTEN THE LOVE OF HIS LIFE MURDERED IN FRONT OF HIM), because a white girl who he knows at LITERALLY ANY POINT IN EITHER OF THEIR LIVES hated him for his race said she once saw him as a monster but said sowwy.

The things that they hold dear to them? Their family? Their loved ones? Irrelevant. They get in the way of Ingrid and her slay queen bestie Woobiegard looking good, so they have to throw away their values and uphold their abusers' values. Because, again, they only exist to prop up Ingrid (and by proxy, Woobiegard). Their feelings can only matter if they can subserviently exist under Ingrid's. She doesn't have to do anything to earn their trust and loyalty - she can, in fact, directly and repeatedly abuse them. All she has to do is say that she's become worthy, and boom, they mindlessly follow her. Fuck their loved ones, fuck themselves, that doesn't matter as much as making Ingrid look good. It's fuckin' terrible

[ladykakata]

What Hades and Zagreus have in common

[WARNING : STORY SPOILERS FOR HADES. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED]

Hades is not a good father a lot of the time. This is very true. He says so himself at times. And yet there’s a line from Persephone I keep coming back to, the one where she notes that Zagreus was never taught to hate.

From what I’ve gathered so far, while most of the childrearing was done by Nyx, Hades DID take part in certain aspects of his child’s development. He taught him to speak, hence the ‘Olympian accent’, he taught him how to wield a spear before Achilles took over as martial instructor, and he seems to have passed on certain traits to the boy that really do mark him as Hades’ son, despite those traits annoying Dad at times.

Fairness: Neither Hades nor Zagreus attack those that are defenceless or weaker than them by a considerable margin, they don’t attack anyone who cannot fight back. Hades will make comments about underhanded tactics, and seems to engage in fair fights whenever it’s called upon. While he berates Zagreus for using his relatives in a fight, he doesn’t attempt to take his ball and go home (*cough* unlike someone like Theseus *cough*). It really comes to the fore for Zagreus with the pacts of Achilles and Orpheus. He finds the terms unacceptable and unfair, and while he doesn’t void them completely, he relaxes the rules to have a better quality of life for both without nullifying his father’s authority. Hades, for his part, could easily remove Zagreus’ changes and has been known to let his temper overrule potential fairness (locking away Orpheus because the man’s sad he can’t see his wife? Really, Hades?), he still upholds Zagreus’ changes. Hades could have easily squashed Zagreus at the early stages of Zagreus’ escapes, or locked him up if he was truly annoyed with him, but he allows Zagreus to get as far as possible before potentially stepping in. And when Zagreus proves his mettle, he finally commends him (much to Zagreus’ shock lol).

Honesty: My baby boy Zagreus is not happy about spinning the lie about how Persephone came to the Underworld after the feast, and says as much to her. Persephone soothes his concern by saying it’s the best possible outcome, allowing both sides to brush the episode under the carpet without a war or bitterness, which neither side wants. He’s unhappy, but goes with it at his mother’s request. When he finds out Hades and Nyx lied to him about his maternity, he seems deeply, terribly hurt, and even says as much when confronting Hades after Persephone’s return (”I always thought ... you were honest”). Hades himself is very much against lies and hiding the truth, he’s quite emotional when explaining why he lied about Persephone to Zagreus and keeping Zagreus’ resurrection from Persephone (”It tore at my very being”). It seems that honestly is something deeply ingrained in both father and son, and something that puts Hades at odds with most Olympic gods as lying, cheating, bickering and backstabbing is very much their game.

Sense of humour: Zagreus always has a sense of humour about anything and everything, bar something that he’s emotional about, and it’s a surprising trait of Hades. The man keeps Hypnos around because he finds him amusing, despite having no patience for incompetence elsewhere.

Humility: He’s the main character, he’s the Prince of the Underworld, the Son of Hades, the direct relative of most of the Olympic Gods ... and yet he speaks to everyone bar his father (and later Theseus) with open friendliness, no matter any hostility shown to him. Achilles notes it with surprise, and Zagreus for his part has no objection to being referred to as ‘lad’ by the demi-god despite being his technical superior in rank. Even with the mild irritation Patrocles shows him, Zagreus respectfully addresses him as ‘sir’ as he would Achilles, his kindness to Dusa has gotten her in trouble with Nyx, and he’s self-deprecating to the max. Humility isn’t an obvious trait for Hades, but compare him to Zeus and the man is as humble as can be. While he commands respect, he doesn’t throw it around unless his temper is tested, as was the case in challanging Nyx about her approval of Zagreus running away. He’s one of the wealthiest and most feared Gods, and doesn’t use it to terrorise everyone around him. I have it on authority if you beat Hades on Extreme Measures 4, and come back down the Styx, Hades will make a comment about Zagreus potentially gloating and Zagreus responds he wasn’t going to gloat, he was just surprised he beat his father. Zagreus is not a proud winner. Can’t forget they will admit they are wrong. Hades, for all his bluster and hostility, admits that what he did and the way he treated Zagreus was not right, and states he doesn’t expect to be forgiven. He’s no Zeus, in that regard.

Romantic directness: Hades is not a dating sim I keep telling myself Depending on your tastes, Meg, Than or Dusa (or Meg AND Than) are options open to you, or none at all. Zagreus has the potential to be poly and I’ve seen it around that canonically he’s poly and bi no matter your actions, but irregardless, he is direct and frank about his intentions once the relationships are built up that far. He doesn’t leave anyone hanging, he gives them a direct yes or no (or I’m up for it vs. not now) and his bluntness in stating his feelings can be very sweet, as seen when he blatantly tells Than he likes him and will wait for him if he wants. He might take a bit of ‘they like you, dumbass’ at times, but once he realises he’s straight to the point. Depending on how you want to read the myth of Minthe, Hades has only had one paramour in Persephone, and was enraged at Zeus’ machinations to bring her to the Underworld, disgusted at her being used as little more than a trophy and her own feelings discounted. Thankfully it worked out, but he never forgave Zeus and it’s been a raw wound in any relations with Olympus. When Persephone fled, he doesn’t take anyone else as a Queen or consort (despite Olympus believing Nyx was that role, understandable considering they thought she was Zag’s mother and Zag is clearly Hades’ son if not hers) and he becomes harsh and unreasonable without her influence. When she returns, he warms up again, defrosting his bitter relationship with Zagreus and even making the effort to stop calling him ‘boy’/use his actual name and commend him when he does a good job. Zagreus, if pursuing both Meg AND Than, is direct with both than he’s seeing the other, and they actually talk about the arrangement and come to an understanding, so nothing is being done behind anyone’s backs as it should be in a healthy poly relationship. Olympian love lives are messy and often treacherous, so the direct romantic honesty and fidelity is a hilariously fitting trait father and son share. (Also, Hades, give Zagreus doors. The boy will need them).

Daddy issues : That’s putting it lightly, lol. I do wonder if Hades fears becoming his own father, but he seems aware that his cruelty is far lesser than Chronos’. For me, it’s more a case of pushing Zagreus away to avoid the same fate that’s already befallen him, becoming close to someone and them leaving. He ‘others’ Zagreus quite a lot; refusing to address him by his name, making him sound weak and worthless, the list goes on. He seems to do all in his power to push Zagreus away and not let him into his emotional sphere, but by doing this, he’s not only deeply hurting the boy and causing psychological scars that clearly manifest in his self-deprecation and feeling of worthlessness, but also making Zagreus hate him anyway. You don’t want to be hurt by a son turning against you, another family member that will hurt you, but by trying to avoid that strand of Fate, you trip over the same one in a different colour. He improves considerably after Persephone’s return, but there’s a lot to be repaired and I hope Hades II continues this. Zagreus is such a good boy, a humble and kind soul, I would be utterly proud of him as a son despite Hades’ lines about pride being the biggest weakness of the Olympians. Please love him Hades, he deserves it.

I’ll think of more but these are ones that jump out to me. Please let Hades protect Zagreus against Chronos I need to see Big Daddy actually being a daddy.

[scarletnakazato]

Ryosuke Takahashi - I Won't Fall Apart

• Ryosuke Takahashi x Reader | Angst to Happy Ending | • Word Count: 5,574. • Synopsis: In which a sad incident breaks Ryosuke, causing his brother to worry greatly for his aniki's life, leading him to call a trusted friend to help heal the beautiful, broken man, returning him to his former glory and fall in love with the one who saved him.

➽───────────────❥

Ryosuke was broken and Keisuke didn't know what to do. It was always the other way around. When Keisuke was broken at a young age, lying on the floor, his eyes and cheeks filled with tears, Ryosuke would be there for him. His aniki would be the one to hold him, wipe his tears away, and tell him everything would be okay, that things would get better with time.

Now that Ryosuke was in his place, he didn't know how to handle the situation. Keisuke always wanted someone to be there for him in his darkest moments, but his aniki did the opposite and locked himself away in his room. He isolated himself from the world, making himself believe it would fix everything.

Keisuke was scared.

He was scared his brother would commit the same act his love did not even a month ago. Her death broke the normally calm and composed man. The situation was eating Keisuke alive, and he couldn't find a way to get rid of it. He tried talking to his brother, but he would never reply with words, rather he would shake his head and walk back to his room.

Every time Keisuke tried to lighten the mood and get his aniki to go out somewhere with him for the day, he did the same thing; shake his head and walk back to his room.

Keisuke had just gotten his beloved FD on his birthday last year and wanted to be a good a racer as his brother was. He practiced their home course of Akagi every night for hours, wanting to impress Ryosuke and make him proud.

Ryosuke was proud of his little brother committing so much time and effort into his driving skills, but the praise stopped after her death. He had lost most of his interests in everything, including racing.

Keisuke knew it wasn't his own or his brother's fault for not having the praise, rather, he was upset that his aniki's depression had caused him to lose interest and meaning in the one thing he loved to do the most.

No simulations, no practice nights, not even a word about cars in general. It was almost like Ryosuke had gone mute during the day, but the blonde could hear the quiet sobs of his brother through their bedroom doors at night.

Ryosuke's pain was hurting Keisuke more than he thought. Would anyone be able to pull his brother out of his depression? Could anyone help him, if only a little? Could they prevent him from dying like her?

Keisuke didn't know who to get in contact with. Their parents, especially their mother, were concerned for Ryosuke's well-being but they were constantly on business trips. He knew they couldn't help it, they had to be at those countless meetings to uphold the continuous progress of the hospital.

The blonde stared at the ceiling as he lied on his bed, thinking of any possible solution to help Ryosuke. Who could he trust to see his brother in his current state? Who could he trust to help bring his brother back to his former self? His mind went through the many people he's met and known in his life, searching for the right one. Then, it hit him.

His best friend: the one who found him in an alley after he had gotten himself into a nasty fight with someone from another gang back during his rebel days in Tokyo. The one who led him back to her apartment and patched him up. The one who listened to him talk about his problems, his worries, his fears, everything. Keisuke trusted her as much as he trusted Ryosuke.

(Y/N).

The blonde immediately got out of bed and headed towards the front door, then to his car. Pulling out his phone, he scrolled through his contacts until her name popped up. Pressing the call button, he waited through the rings until her familiar voice was heard.

"Keisuke?"

"Hey, (N/N)."

(Y/N) smiled, hearing the nickname Keisuke gave her.

"It's been a while, how are you?"

"I'm alright. Are you busy?" Keisuke leaned against the FD. (Y/N) noticed a small sense of urgency in his tone.

"No, I've been at home for a while, is everything okay?"

"It's... aniki. He's- he's a wreck." Keisuke looked down at the ground.

"What happened? Is he okay- physically?" her tone was laced with worry.

"For the most part, yes. But he's barely eating, he rarely leaves his room, and hasn't gone outside or anywhere, since... a bad incident happened," the blonde paused for a moment, "I was hoping you'd be able to come here and help him, if even a little bit. It would be easier to tell you everything if you were here. You did wonders with me; aniki needs the same..."

"It'll take me few hours, but I'll be there." She reassured him; determination set in her voice.

"I can come pick you up and drive you here, unless you're taking the train?"

"It would be quicker by train, only going one way, but I'd love the pickup from the station if you don't mind."

"Yeah, I can do that. Call me shortly before you get there, alright?"

"Will do, see you soon, Kei!" They ended the call and Keisuke let out a sigh of relief. He suddenly felt better, like he had a feeling that bringing (Y/N) here would work.

She was able to talk sense into him about leaving his gang life behind him, that nothing he wants to do in life will come to him by staying in that group. When Ryosuke found him to take him home, Keisuke did so easily. He found his passion for cars and racing, he found something that gave him meaning, thanks to (Y/N) quite literally smacking him upside the head and knocking sense into his thick skull.

If she could work her magic on a stubborn mule like Keisuke, she could help fix Ryosuke. She could take all of his broken pieces and put them back together again.

Keisuke went back inside and headed upstairs towards his room. He stopped in front of Ryosuke's, pressing his against the door, listening for any sound. He could hear the barely audible rhythmic sound of his breathing and guessed he was sleeping.

The blonde sighed lightly and walked to his room. She's going to save you, aniki.

Keisuke kept himself busy with the things in his room. Magazines, small car parts, manga, anything he could get his hands on to keep himself occupied until (Y/N) contacted him.

He jumped a bit when his phone beeped from a notification about an hour and a half later. Picking it up he saw a text from (Y/N).

"I'm about ten minutes away from Takasaki Station."

Keisuke texted back saying he was on his way. Grabbing his wallet and keys, he left his room, going down the stairs and out of the front door as quietly as possible, to not disturb Ryosuke's sleep.

Starting up his beloved FD, he pulled out of the driveway and onto the road heading towards the station. (Y/N) waited only a couple minutes before someone walked up to her, poking her with a can.

She looked up and met eyes with her blonde friend. "Keisuke!" She jumped up and hugged him.

He chuckled, hugging her back just as tight, "I missed you, shorty," he teased.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm not that short, you lanky tree." She rolled her eyes, playfully punching his shoulder.

"Lanky? I'm beautiful." He smirked proudly. They shared a laugh and (Y/N) gratefully took the small can of coffee from him. He led her back to the car, to which she complimented it.

During the drive, Keisuke got her up to speed about the situation Ryosuke was dealing with. She truly felt bad for him. He is going through so much and he's holding it all in. He's only human no matter how invincible and amazing everyone makes him out to be.

Ryosuke can only take so much.

(Y/N) has never met his brother, but she's grateful that he came to take Keisuke away from his previous life of gangs, fights, and other dangerous things that follow. She's grateful he got Keisuke into something else that he loves so strongly as well.

They arrived at the mansion and (Y/N) was amazed by the place. "It's beautiful here," she said lightly, taking in the beautiful surroundings of their home.

He showed her inside and to a spare room where she could put her belongings. She met Keisuke downstairs in the family room, sitting next to him on the couch.

"It would probably be best to wait for him to come out of his room on his own first before trying to talk to him. If we just waltzed in there it would be too intrusive and sudden for him." Keisuke explained and (Y/N) nodded in agreement.

In the meantime, they talked for a few hours, sometimes about themselves and catching up, and sometimes about Ryosuke. Dinner time came around not long after. (Y/N) helped Keisuke make the food and she set up the table while the blonde went to fetch his brother.

Ryosuke made multiple attempts at refusing to eat but Keisuke wasn't taking no for an answer. He didn't like to be forceful with his aniki for any reason, but he wasn't going to sit there and watch him waste away from starvation.

Eventually, both brothers had come down the stairs, Keisuke walking behind Ryosuke to ensure he didn't sneak back up to his room.

(Y/N) greeted them lightly with the table being set up nicely. "Aniki, this is (Y/N). She's the one that convinced me to leave the Tokyo scene behind and come back home with you. She does wonders with listening and talking with you about anything. I believe she can through to anyone; she got through my thick skull after all."

"It's nice to meet you, Ryosuke. Keisuke always talks about you." She gave him a warm smile.

Ryosuke nodded lightly and gave a soft, "You as well." They ate dinner quietly, Ryosuke only eating a small bit before quietly speaking to Keisuke and preparing to get up, "Thank you for dinner, Keisuke."

"I didn't make dinner, aniki."

Ryosuke stopped his movements, processing his brother's words. He didn't feel hungry, yet he was probably starving. It was also rude to eat so little then leave when someone else made their food. He didn't want to hurt the lady's feelings, either.

The older Takahashi stayed put, giving his thanks to (Y/N) and continued eating. She took his appreciation happily and it made him feel the tiniest bit better. Her cooking was exquisite, he hadn't felt hungry enough to eat everything for weeks until he tasted what she made.

Keisuke glanced at (Y/N) and gave a subtle nod and smile. His little plan worked. He knew Ryosuke wouldn't decline the food if he was told their guest cooked it.

To the blonde's surprise, Ryosuke stayed after dinner to help with the dishes and accepted (Y/N)'s offer for tea. She hasn't even been here for a day and she's made progress with Ryosuke that Keisuke couldn't even do in a month.

They sat on the couch, with (Y/N) next to Ryosuke. "So, Ryosuke, Keisuke's mentioned you're a huge book lover. Do you have any favourites?"

After he took a sip of tea, he thought for a moment and gave light voiced replies of a few well-known titles. (Y/N) knew two of them and asked what the other was about.

The older Takahashi brother told her about the plot of the story, the characters, their interests, and anything else that came to his mind. She listened to every word intently, a sweet smile gracing her features as she occasionally sipped on her tea.

Keisuke watched with a smile. His aniki looked better already. Not any major differences, but the food and some talking seemed to help take his mind off of his pain.

He snuck away from the two a few minutes later, leaving them alone. Ryosuke enjoyed their conversation, seeing as they ended up having quite a few things in common. He retired to his room when it got late and (Y/N) knocked on Keisuke's bedroom door, giving him a briefing of how Ryosuke did with their talk and that she was heading to bed.

The next morning, she woke up before the brothers and made them breakfast. Keisuke happily dug in before heading out to spend the day with one of his friends. She made a plate for Ryosuke, putting the still warm food on the dish and taking it upstairs.

She knocked lightly on his door, "Ryosuke? I made breakfast, would you like some?" she waited a minute before the door opened, revealing a pale Ryosuke with messy hair. He took the plate of food, thanking her.

He was about to close the door out of habit but stopped, asking, "Would you like to come in?"

She smiled sweetly, giving a small thanks and walked in. She noticed how clean his room was and the faint smell of vanilla. He motioned to his bed, telling her she could sit, and she did.

He sat at his desk and ate his breakfast. She was glad he was making progress already. Keisuke mentioned how he wouldn't touch his food or leave his room for it since the incident.

She could tell he was skinnier than he was supposed to be. His cheekbones were more noticeable, and his cheeks had sunken in some, due to his weight loss. His clothes looked a bit baggy on him when they were the type meant to fit properly. His skin was pale, he hadn't seen daylight in weeks. The bags under his eyes were a dark purple and his blue eyes were dull.

They were truly a beautiful shade of blue and (Y/N) knew they could shine brightly again one day.

Ryosuke had finished all of his breakfast and noticed she was staring directly at him. Did he look repulsive in his state? Was it really this noticeable?

(Y/N) had come out of her trance when he made a small sound. She met his sad gaze with a smile, "You have beautiful eyes, Ryosuke. They're a brilliant shade of blue."

Her soft words surprised him. This was the opposite of what he was expecting her to say. It felt nice though, having someone notice something beautiful about you even when you look and feel dead. It made his heart feel lighter. It had been so heavy for a while that he felt it was slowly dragging him down to pure misery.

What else did she see in him that she found beautiful?

She clearly cared about his health and well-being. If she didn't, Keisuke wouldn't have been able to bring her here. She wanted to help him. Not just for his own or Keisuke's sake, but for herself as well.

She was an angel, a saving grace amongst broken humans. Ryosuke could feel nothing but pureness radiate off of her being. She would take his shattered heart and put the pieces back together, making it stronger as she does so.

(Y/N) is his salvation; she won't let him fall apart.

Ryosuke's shoulders started to shake lightly and his dull eyes formed tears that ran down his delicate cheeks. He put a hand over his mouth in attempt to stay quiet. (Y/N)'s features were quickly laced with worry as she got off the bed and scurried to him.

Ryosuke couldn't help but feel a strong pull of his heart that made him reach out for her. His hand grabbed the side of her shoulder as he tried to stand up to get closer, only to have his legs give out on him, bringing them both to the floor.

(Y/N) held him protectively with an arm wrapped around his back and the other gently cupping the side of his face as she wiped his tears away. He was shaking violently now; she knew he was trying to hold it all in like he had done so many times before.

"Let it out Ryosuke, it's okay," he shook his head quickly. He was too scared to do it. If he did, he'd have nothing left of her.

"You have to let it out, it'll help you, I promise." (Y/N) said and lifted his head to look at her. "You're not going to lose your memories, you don't have to forget about anything and you're not going to be hated for accepting reality," she reassured him, "but if you want the pain to go away... you have to let it go, Ryosuke."

At her words, Ryosuke finally caved in, the walls he built, broke, and the tears in his beautiful eyes ran down his cheeks like a stream. His sobs wracked his whole body, his arms held her tightly as he buried his face in the crook of her neck.

(Y/N) held him with one arm wrapped around him and soothingly combed her fingers through his soft hair. She rested her cheek on top of his head in a comforting manner as she whispered equally comforting words.

How long they stayed together on the floor, they didn't know. But it didn't matter; what really mattered was that Ryosuke had calmed down, his body was no longer shaking, and he did feel better, like she had said.

His heart was the first thing to feel lighter, now his body and soul did too. The aching feeling of missing her was still there, but it had lessened. He didn't hate it either.

(Y/N) was right, letting it go, letting her go, was the right thing to do, no matter how much it hurt before. He'd never forget her. She was his first love and always will be, but he knew she would want him to move on, not dwell on his pain and waste away.

He slowly pulled away from (Y/N) and met her soft gaze. "Thank you," he whispered.

She nodded with a warm smile and her eyes glistened with a small shine. "I'm always here when you want to talk or simply want someone next to you. No matter what it is, I'm here for you, Ryosuke."

He nodded at her words before she asked if he wanted water, considering how much the poor man cried. Ryosuke followed her downstairs and gratefully accepting the cold drink.

They soon found themselves on the couch in the same spots as yesterday and started a new conversation. (Y/N) asked what had gotten him into loving cars and racing, to which she noticed a small glimmer in those beautiful blue eyes.

Ryosuke told her the entire story, from the very beginning up to the present. The way he spoke about the topic was filled with passion. His tone was light-hearted and happy to speak of such a beloved interest.

Hours had past and their conversation about racing was still going strong. They had been so into it, that time flew by quickly and Keisuke had just gotten home from spending the day with his friend.

(Y/N) noticed him walk through the door quietly, not knowing where they were or what they were doing. She decided to take this chance to ask Ryosuke about Keisuke's racing and what he's learned from the older Takahashi.

Keisuke stopped in tracks and stayed silent as he listened. His aniki was speaking highly of him. He was telling her how proud he was and still is at his little brother's determination to improve his skills and pursue his dream of pro racing, and that one day he would eventually surpass him as a racer.

The blonde couldn't help but smile. Not only at his brother's words, but the change in his voice as well. It was... happier. (Y/N) did something with his aniki while he was away, and it showed.

He made himself known and for the first time in a month, Ryosuke greeted him with a smile. It was a small one, but a smile, nonetheless.

The three of them soon had dinner and Ryosuke had eaten everything he was given. The nightly routines followed as they headed to bed. Keisuke pulled (Y/N) aside and into the spare room she was using, shutting the door.

"I don't know what you did while I was gone, but thank you," he pulled her into a tight hug, "thank you so fucking much."

She returned the hug and said, "He did it on his own, I only gave him a little push." He eventually let her go, wishing her a good night and went back to his room.

--------

Ryosuke's progress had been changing for the better steadily. He opened his windows in the morning, letting in sunlight. He attended every meal, eating everything on the plate, and sometimes went back for a little more. He was more engaged in his studies for medical school, and small conversations about races came up when Keisuke mentioned it.

The Takahashi's, both the brothers and their parents, gladly let her stay as long as she liked. Their mother was the happiest knowing (Y/N) was playing a major role in her son's recovery.

Ryosuke had taken a liking to (Y/N) very quickly. He, more than anyone, was grateful for what she's done for him. Anytime he had an episode where memories would flood his mind and tears fell from his eyes, she was there. When he felt the need to talk about what was bothering him, she was there. She never interrupted and she never asked questions until he was finished.

This was the process both of them worked through for months together. (Y/N) told herself -and Keisuke- she wasn't leaving until Ryosuke's depression was gone completely. She wasn't leaving him almost whole. She was staying until his heart, mind, body, and soul were healed as a whole.

As time passed, and she spent more time with the older Takahashi brother, she started to fall in love with him. She's learned so much about him, seen him at his worst, and still thought he was beautiful. She's seen him overcome his nightmares, his sadness, and depression with such strength.

Ryosuke, much to his surprise, had also fallen for the girl that fixed his broken heart. With each piece she put back together, she made it hers. He wouldn't be his normal self again without her. He wouldn't have gotten his interests in racing, reading, and becoming a surgeon back again without her.

(Y/N) was his angel, his saving grace.

He wasn't sure if it was a sign, she had sent to help mend his wounds, or if fate had planned this out from the beginning. Either way, he was happy.

--------

"(Y/N)?" Ryosuke lightly knocked on the open door of her room, gaining her attention.

"What's up, Ryo?" she tilted her head slightly. Cute.

"I was wondering, would you like to go somewhere with me this evening?" his eyes held a shine of hope.

"Yeah, I'd love to! Where did you want to go?"

"I was hoping I could take you out to dinner."

(Y/N)'s eyes lit up as she nodded. She asked which restaurant it was but was told the location was a surprise and Ryosuke lied a dress on the bed that was covered by a protective casing. "You don't have to wear it if makes you uncomfortable. I saw it and thought you'd look beautiful in it." He spoke sincerely, giving her a charming smile before leaving the room.

(Y/N) turned around towards the bed and gently took off the cover of the dress. Her eyes widened at the sight of it. It was one of her favourite dresses she had seen in a magazine and circled it with a pen. It was the perfect shade of (F/C), too. Did Ryosuke look through the magazine and buy it specifically, or was it pure coincidence?

She took the dress to the bathroom that was attached to her room and changed into it. It fit her shape perfectly, gently hugging all of her curves and flowing smoothly. She styled her hair and applied light makeup that accented her features and the dress. Digging through her clothes bag, she found a pair of nice shoes with small heels.

Ryosuke was already downstairs when she appeared around the corner. (Y/N) was gorgeous, from head to toe. He was glad he chose that dress over the others she circled in her magazine. This one fit her angelic aura brilliantly.

(Y/N) thought the same about Ryosuke. He wore all black except for his dark blue button up shirt. His suit jacket was unbuttoned, allowing more of the blue to contrast with the black. His silky black hair was in its usual style, but she wouldn't have it any other way. Ryosuke's iconic style in both appearance and clothing, paired with his intellect, was what made Ryosuke, Ryosuke.

"You look gorgeous, (Y/N). I hope the dress is to your liking?"

"Thank you, and the dress is perfect! How did you know I love this one?"

"Oh, I have my ways," he smirked knowingly before asking, "are you ready to go?"

She nodded eagerly and they headed towards the door. Ryosuke, being the gentleman he is, opened both the house door and the passenger door of the FC for her. She thanked him graciously each time and he returned it with his handsome smiles.

His car was just as elegant as he was. It drove as smoothly as he talked, it was built as sturdy as he was, and each aftermarket part improved the car just as his intelligence improved with anything he learned about. Him and his FC were extensions of each other, inside and out.

Soon, they pulled into the car park of an extravagant building that appeared to be the restaurant. Once the car was parked and shut off, Ryosuke opened the passenger door for (Y/N) and offered his hand to help her out. It was a simple and kind gesture naturally, but she couldn't help but feel all giddy and warm inside when he did it.

Ryosuke had gotten a reservation for one of the few seats in the corner. They ordered their food and Ryosuke ordered a bottle of wine with a fancy name (Y/N)'s never heard of. They made easy conversation during dinner and afterwards were pleasantly drinking the wine.

"Thank you for all of this, Ryosuke. It's amazing." (Y/N) said sincerely as she looked into his gorgeous blue eyes. She noticed they were no longer dull and were shining brightly even in the dim light of the room.

"Actually, I should be the one thanking you. This night is completely dedicated to you." He took her hand in his, resting them on the table. "If it weren't for you, I would still be the broken, depressed man I was before you arrived. You took so much time out of your life to help me, to get me out of the grave I nearly dug for myself and break the walls I built that were meant to prevent anything from coming back into my life. You brought my interests back and gave me a meaning to live again. Thank you." Ryosuke gently lifted her hand and placed a soft kiss on the back of it.

"Ryo..." (Y/N)'s eyes glistened with tears.

"I also wanted to ask... may I get the pleasure of calling you mine?" he wore a soft smile and had a glimmer in his eyes.

(Y/N) lit up and she squeezed his hand, "Yes! I'd love that, Ryosuke!"

The new couple tapped their wine glasses for a small toast to themselves and drank until the bottle was empty. They left the restaurant shortly after and (Y/N) gave him a kiss on the cheek as he opened the car door for her.

They drove back to the mansion in a pleasant silence, enjoying each other's presence. When they arrived, they noticed Keisuke's car was gone. Seems like he went out to practice. Ryosuke noted and parked the FC.

Once inside, (Y/N) prepared tea and made her way to the couch. She sat next to Ryosuke, handing him a small cup. He wrapped an arm around her and leaned into her side with a hum. She rested her head on the side of his arm and held his hand that rested on her thigh.

After a few cups of tea, (Y/N) went to do her nightly routine and change into comfy night clothes. She was neatly hanging the dress up in the closet when Ryosuke came around and knocked lightly on the door. A few seconds later, the door opened and (Y/N) looked up at him with a smile.

Ryosuke had asked if she wanted to spend the night with him in his room, surprisingly very shyly, which was quite out of character for him. His cheeks had a light blush on them as he reassured her quickly that nothing 'weird' would happen, he just wanted to cuddle her. (Y/N) giggled at how cute he was and gladly accepted. He caught by surprise when she jumped into his arms like a child and grinned like one too. He chuckled lightly as he carried her to his room. They were quickly settled into his soft bed and Ryosuke held her with his arms around her sides and their legs tangled together as he spooned her smaller frame, quickly falling asleep.

--------

It's been three years and Ryosuke had already founded Project D and their twin aces, Keisuke and Takumi, had beaten every team they've come across on their expedition. (Y/N) was proud that Ryosuke had come so far and was finally fulfilling his dream. She tagged along to every race and helped Ryosuke and the others as much as she could.

She was a great morale booster to everyone even if it was just a simple talk, bringing them food and drinks, or giving them a little motivational speech. Ryosuke was happy she wanted to be a part of something so meaningful to him. She kept him levelheaded and in the best health she could to make sure he was sleeping and eating enough. It was a lot of work maintaining this project and keeping up with his medical studies at the same time. When they had come to the finale of their grand expedition and won their final races, everyone went out to celebrate.

But there was one more thing Ryosuke had to do before he considered his dream fulfilled.

Keisuke began to worry again just as he did three years ago before he contacted (Y/N). She tried to keep him calm, saying whatever his brother had planned, he was doing it for a reason. Ryosuke was smart and wouldn't let other things get the best of him. Keisuke would only sigh, wanting to believe her.

When Ryosuke returned with his beloved FC scratched up, Keisuke nearly went ballistic; berating his aniki for being so reckless and that he could've gotten himself killed. He merely waved the blonde off with a light chuckle, saying he would explain later. He came back to retrieve (Y/N), telling her he wanted her to meet someone important to him.

It was a long drive, but they arrived back in Hakone. They ended up in a small graveyard that was beautifully maintained. Ryosuke led her to one specific grave and she read the name, Kaori.

She stood silently as Ryosuke spoke to his lost love. He told her that his dream had been fulfilled, that he had once again found a meaning to life, and that it changed for the better because of (Y/N). He told her of everything she did for him to help heal his broken heart and shattered soul.

Small tears trailed down their cheeks at his words. When he was finished, he stood up and turned towards (Y/N). "Thank you for coming with me, it means more than you know." He said and gently took her hand in his.

"Of course, Ryo. She is beautiful, isn't she?" (Y/N) looked down at the framed picture that sat at the base of the headstone.

Ryosuke nodded lightly, "Yeah, she is." As the couple made their way back to the FC, a light breeze, followed by a flowery scent blew past (Y/N). Ryosuke didn't seem to notice it, nor feel the slight pull that made her turn her head around.

Only for a moment, she saw her. She heard a faint, "Thank you," before she faded away. (Y/N) turned back around and smiled, nodding lightly.

"Did you want to spend the day here? There's a few places I know of you might like." Ryosuke squeezed her hand gently and looked down at her, pulling (Y/N) out of her slight daze.

"Sounds great, let's go!" She eagerly pulled him along, getting to the car faster. Ryosuke chuckled at her childish side. Once in the car, she kissed him on the cheek and let him take her around the city.

Ryosuke wouldn't know what he'd do without her. Life would be dull and boring without her childish personality making an appearance. She was without a doubt one of the most important people in his life he would never give up.

She was his angel, his saving grace. A childish one, yes, but one he loved with his very heart and soul.

[herglowinggirl]

Hello, familiar anon here, I didn't ask the question about an SOK ending where Yun lives and gains redemption. I also wouldn't mind having my own tag. I haven't found any other evidence of Yun shipping Kyoshi and Rangi outside of "The Boy From Makapu". How does Kyoshi view Yun later in her life( up to the first year after "The Meeting", creating Kyoshi Island nearly 25 years later, the last years of her life)? Would Kyoshi ever mention or talk about Yun after the events of The Shadow of Kyoshi?

hello! and yes I have some thoughts on this and how it would impact the advice Kyoshi gave to Roku and Aang. this got long but I’d love to break down parts of it to write fic, which I think I will do and perhaps post before Kyoshi Fortnight. But I digress, it’s long enough that I have decided to use subtitles. If anything skip to the end about the advice she gave Roku and Aang I think it’s most relevant to what I want to say and also my favorite part.

what I talk about under the cut: the ways I believe yun’s death would impact kyoshi’s actions after tsok and what the advice she gave aang and roku actually means (my thoughts on “only justice will bring peace” means)

would kyoshi talk about yun during her lifetime?

Yes. First off, it would be impossible to avoid him in the political landscape, because it is mentioned that he passed lots of judgements and signed treaties, ect. Although Kyoshi has grown in her leadership style and it’s turned a little (a lot) anti-establishment, she would still need to deal with the fallout of Yun not being the Avatar, because there would be a need to re-sign treaties and settle disputes with people seeking to take advantage of others now that the Avatar has “changed” would have to be dealt with and in tandem, Yun’s legacy.

But also, in a duology that features grief, I find it a natural continuation of the narrative that Yun would be mourned. You don’t stop knowing or loving someone after they pass, and I feel like mourning all of Yun—the boy he was, where he came from, his legacy, the decisions he made, the impact he had on the people around him, even how he hurt people—is only natural and is slightly unavoidable. I think Kyoshi mourns all of her deceased loved ones. 

Just, like the concept of this: she’s always hated pai sho but now when she faces a board in her gut and in her throat things feel wrong because it reminds her of what Yun had to do to survive. A breeze smells like the flour and air Kelsang sent into her face the moments before everything changed. She collects pebbles that Lek would’ve liked. Rangi brings her fire lilies for an anniversary and she starts crying. She sings songs with Wong that were her parent’s favorites that coincidentally, Kelsang knew too.

community in grief and kyoshi’s relationships

He was Rangi’s friend, too. Auntie Mui and Hei-Ran are sure to mourn him in their own ways. In tSoK Kyoshi calls her team Avatar a group of contradictions and misfits and in his way, Yun was too. The false Avatar. What a title! 

A continuation of the concept: Rangi and Kyoshi remind each other of him every day for a while, swapping stories about him when it gets to be too much, making eye contact when they can hear his voice making light of something stupid an official has said. Hei-Ran makes her do drills she made Yun do. Auntie Mui makes his favorite dish on his birthday that they do not pass in silence, because then what would they be, that group of misfits, to forget another outcast? If they don’t mourn the boy from Yokoya who will mourn them, or who would’ve mourned them if they hadn’t been so lucky? Who will care for the beggars and orphans of the world if not the Avatar who was once one of them and her companions? In a way, the retribution and pain of it all is justice for the life that Kyoshi took. Like, there’s just so much to unpack in the way she says “Was I right about anything at all? What will they say about me? Avatar Kyoshi, who killed her friend because she couldn’t save him?” But I don’t think her guilt would silence her. 

That being said, Yun was fundamentally a victim of a system that failed him. The same one that failed Kyoshi. In another way, her actions are justice on a world that failed her and her best friend and the similarities they shared, and she’s able to take those actions because of the way that Yun impacted her, for better or for worse. So yes, I think during her lifetime, she would speak of Yun and who he was, not letting people forget the ways they (and she) failed him and how easily everyone wants to forget their failure. It brings me to the way she was so angry with the Earth Kingdom establishment for discarding him and trying to hide history away. I don’t think she’d ever do that, even if she did...uh, dispatch him.

kyoshi, immortality, and her role as an avatar

I’d like to turn to two passages:

Kyoshi: “The way you describe it, you’d have to decide what version of yourself you’d be stuck as, forever.”

Lao Ge: “Exactly! Those who grow, live and die. The stagnant pool is immortal, while the clear flowing river dies an uncountable number of deaths.”

and

In the future, perhaps, she’d become finalized like carved stone. It would be easier to deal with the world then. She could only hope.

[...]

She still had to be careful not to lose her balance and fall. Kyoshi kept her eyes focused on her difficult path, sometimes stumbling but making sure to catch herself, taking one step at a time.

This isn’t directly related to what I think she would say, but more about how she lets her experiences, and therefore, her experiences and relationship with Yun, affect who she is. Here, F.C. Yee is detailing the person we see in her cameo in A:tLA. It’s a testament to her growth, yes, but also to how she lived so long. She’s allowed to grow now, while she’s young and still learning. But eventually Kyoshi’s growth will wane, leaving us with the iron woman we saw in A:tLA. 

Remember when I said I would call F.C. Yee a sap for the very last Kyoshi POV line? It’s the last sentence in my second excerpt, is that Kyoshi is allowing herself make mistakes. It’s pretty obviously a little deeper than the concept of walking down a slope: She became one of the most revered Avatars, we know how her story ends, if not lots of the in-betweens, but F.C. Yee tells us right here in that sentence. She changed and she learned. 

I think, however, that eventually she had to pick a place to stop in order to stop aging. If I had to pick a point where she became “immortal” I’d pick Rangi’s peaceful and timely death surrounded by her loved ones on Yokoya (not Kyoshi Island since I’m going to maintain that her A;tLA cameo was “immortal” Kyoshi) and I think Lao Ge killed her—or at least convinced her to let go.

further thoughts on her longevity: rangi’s role and future

Ok before anybody comes into my inbox like “um zey herglowinggirl I need you to know that actually Rangi also lived to 230 😌″ because I understand the sentiment it’s more like here’s what I’d like to discuss: Kyoshi can’t be immortal around Rangi because Rangi is in so many ways her catalyst for growth. First off, it would be completely out of character for Rangi to be immortal, because she’s constantly moving and being and feeling and judging and that changes her. Positive jing. And Lao Ge says it: “those who grow, live and die.” Rangi believes in the best and strives for the best, for perfection. For Kyoshi to freeze herself and become immortal, that would require picking an imperfect state. And as we know, Sei’naka women do not accept imperfection 😤. 

Although Rangi promises to always be by Kyoshi’s side, I think in the latter years of Kyoshi’s live it’s more like the impact that Rangi has had on her in that frozen state. That voice of Rangi’s is part of Kyoshi in those years. However, without Rangi, it is unlikely that Kyoshi will always or commonly choose to act on it. It’s stated multiple times throughout the novels that Rangi is Kyoshi’s center and that she doesn’t know who she’d be without Rangi, but I think the logical conclusion is immortal. With Rangi’s death she becomes her own center by stopping her growth; with Rangi’s death she just becomes...that stone she was talking about, where it does get easier to make decisions because you’re not striving to constantly change and grow. It’s almost a coping mechanism, if you will. Because Kyoshi is more than Rangi, can function without Rangi, it’s just not necessarily pretty.

lao ge’s role and future

Which brings me to my “in my personal version of canon Lao Ge kinda maybe killed Kyoshi” point. Rangi is in no way Kyoshi’s morality, but she is very much the idealistic ‘better’ half. With this catalyst of hope and change gone, I think back to the creation of the Dai Li—it very much sounds to me like something Jianzhu would do. Kyoshi, who had previously been the breakdown of negotiations, created a secret op police force? 

I think the moment Kyoshi started being the establishment, the moment she was the band-aid instead of the solution (much like Yun was, hint hint) Lao Ge would’ve paid her a visit. Either this or the creation of the Dai Li created a catalyst for perhaps an existential crisis, perhaps just being tired, perhaps simply knowing what is best...Kyoshi is, and always will be, a sworn criminal who cannot uphold the law, only her own judgements. She is both the law and the breaking and bending of it, and when she loses this balance when Rangi falls from her side and she becomes her own rock I think it would swing her away from her center, and this is where she becomes immortal. Eventually, it would become enough of an issue for people to intervene and tell her that her time as an Avatar is coming to an end. 

advice to future avatars

This is my favorite point and I’ll tie it back to Yun in just a second. I have posted about thinking about the impact of Yun’s death on Kyoshi and how that would’ve impacted her legacy and the advice she gave Roku and Aang before. Honestly what strikes me is how proud Kyoshi would be of Aang. The way that each Avatar must learn to forge their own way and become their own person and what their era needs, balancing themselves, is something so lovely. I think Kyoshi would’ve absolutely loved how Aang took the advice of his predecessors and said “no, I know what would be better for me,” and I think post-tSoK Kyoshi, who has learned she has to forge her own way and style as a leader, would love and be so proud of him for that. 

However, that doesn’t mean that her advice doesn’t have weight. I think mainly her “immortal” phase would perhaps have an impact on the way Yun impacts her advice. I think “only justice will bring peace” also speaks to the finality of death. Just like immortality, death keeps growth from happening. “only justice will bring peace” is also a nod to the way you must learn to cope with your actions and the way you feel about them. It’s also about Aang’s inner peace, which is something I don’t think I’ve ever seen mentioned. Everyone always wants to talk about what he should’ve done and how Kyoshi was right because she told Aang about her choice to let Chin die, but I think she actually guided him to the idea that you should be ok with yourself. To be confident in what you do and take up responsibility for your actions. Kyoshi wasn’t telling him murder was good. She was telling him she owned up to her actions and chose to make those decisions as an Avatar. To me, this finality speaks of growth after Yun’s death and the end of tSoK. She has grown and then frozen, but that means she has changed.

And although I don’t have an answer for what advice she might’ve given Roku, I think it’s a good way to interpret this. The only thing keeping Kyoshi from being honest about Yun’s death is the fact that Zoryu has “Yun” locked up. I think this is likely one of her biggest regrets, that she cannot be honest and responsible for something that weighs so heavily on her soul. This, I think, guides her advice. Only justice will bring peace. Now that I’ve thought it out, perhaps it wasn’t Lao Ge, and perhaps it was the idea that Yun had never been done justice and perhaps that turmoil never changed, which made her long-lived but not quite immortal. She cannot quite know the peace of death nor of life.

I think she must’ve told Roku that no matter what, he must accept the consequences of what he does. He’s not willing to loose that friendship and I think Kyoshi would’ve understood that, and the questions Roku would’ve had to pose himself as an Avatar. That is Kyoshi’s advice. Only justice, true justice in the form of accountability and self-actualization as a leader, will allow you to make good decisions. The acceptance of this: that whatever he does, he must be willing to accept it’s legacy, learn from it, and teach the next Avatar just as she let Yun’s death affect her leadership and what she taught. And I think that’s probably incredibly poetic, even if I’m getting a bit ahead of myself. 

[faetedwill]

Triage || Solo

TIMING: Current LOCATION: Sloane’s house PARTIES: Sloane & her mom.  SUMMARY: After Cass leaves, Sloane has a conversation with her mom  CONTENT WARNINGS: Allusions to emotional abuse

Shannon waited patiently for her daughter to return to the kitchen after Cassidy left. The girl’s earlier bright smile had been washed away, perhaps due to the conversation the two young women had had upstairs. It wasn’t any of her business, of course, but she was sure Sloane would explain as soon as they were alone. Sloane’s featherlight steps could be heard despite the attempts to keep quiet, and the older banshee watched as her daughter crossed into the kitchen towards the third mug that’d been for Cassidy. “She was a nice girl. Why did you send her off so quickly?” Shannon picked up her own mug, the tea warm against the flat of her tongue as she looked over the steel at her daughter. It was apparent that the younger banshee was troubled, and for what reason, Shannon was unsure. This should have been a triumphant moment, the calm before the storm, if one could equate activation to such a thing. 

“Though, I do believe I prefer Teagan a tad more.” The same toothy grin that she wore in Cassidy’s presence pulled at her lips before she crossed her ankles beneath the table, leaning back in her chair. Shannon watched as her daughter dumped the tea into the sink, interest piqued at her silence. 

“She was here for a book,” Sloane lied, fingers trembling around the steel mug she held. She dropped it into the sink, the noise loud against the silence that had filled the room. Even with her back turned, Sloane knew that her mom hadn’t taken that for an actual answer. That she could see right through it. “So I gave it to her. People have jobs they have to get back to, mom.” She kept her back to the older banshee, too afraid that her expression would give her away. The discomfort that came with lying was not overwhelming as described by other fae, but her skin felt warm and her throat felt tight. 

She moved to the mug that had obviously been put out for her and dumped that, too. Sloane inhaled sharply as she began to put the sachets away back into their assigned cabinet. Finally, the young banshee turned around, eager to head back upstairs. The look on her mother’s face however, stopped her in her tracks. 

Shannon’s expression had molded into something vicious. Anger was not present upon her features, but there was something else– something akin to knowing. “You think just because it does not hurt as much, you can lie to me? Sloane, I am your mother, I can see right through you.” The older banshee uncrossed her ankles and leaned forward, head tilted to the side. “You hold death in your hands each and every time you venture into those woods and the prospect of a human dying is what bothers you? Perhaps I did not teach you well enough.” 

Sloane bit the inside of her cheek as she watched her mom, throat still tight. She could leave, could get out until her dad was around, and could use him as a shield. But was that fair? She looked down to her feet, the pink socks she wore bright against the stained linoleum. “You taught me fine, mom.” She felt small, smaller than she ever had. Smaller than the times her mother had left her in those very woods, a blindfold covering her eyes, a knife in her hand. She’d been trained in the art of death, to respect it, to uphold the way fate closed its jaws on such matters, and yet, her mother was right. The thought of a mere human dying had disturbed Sloane in ways that it never had, even if she struggled with the idea of her own father dying for her purpose, that at least made sense considering her mother also refused to let go. 

Shannon slid out of her chair, movements like air. As she crossed the distance, fingers upon Sloane’s jaw, she looked down at her daughter, a small scowl pulling over her features. “It’s but a crush, and it is something you will get over eventually. Her life was worthless before this, and at least now, she will be contributing to something in that short span of time.” Shannon hadn’t expected this from her daughter. Since the age of six, she had gone through rigorous training, and she had only ever seen understanding upon her daughter’s features. Now, there was doubt. She had been corrupted by a mere crush. It was pathetic. “A crush is not worth defying fate, Sloane. This is something you told me you understood.” 

Sloane felt as though her chest was concaving. The moment her mother’s cold fingers reached her jaw, she could feel herself being transported to those moments in the darkness, to the feeling of the steel against skin, the smell of death curling her nose. She had been prepared, she thought she was ready, but Cass was important, and the thought of losing her– of being the cause, of watching her die just so that she could fall into step with fate, was now a nightmare. “There could be somebody else,” Sloane said, voice small. She tried to take a step back from her mother’s grip, but it was too tight. “There’s somebody else.” It was a lie, and she knew her mom would see through it. 

The older banshee shook her head, disappointment burrowing into her very being. “There is nobody else, a stór.” Shannon tucked Sloane’s hair behind her ear with her opposite hand, grip still tight on her jaw. Redirecting the younger banshee’s line of sight so that she could no longer look away, she stared down at her daughter, searching for what went wrong. The training that Sloane had endured was not unlike any other banshee’s methods, though she knew that her activation was far later than others. “I half expected you to learn from my mistakes. The act of falling for a human, it’s fragile, and they will leave either way. Wouldn’t you prefer her to provide you with something everlasting than a goodbye in a hospital bed? She could leave you with this gift, Sloane.” To make her daughter see through her feelings, that would be her best bet. To do this by force would only create a divide, but the moment Shannon had heard just how special Sloane was to Cassidy, she had made her decision. 

“There is, there has to be.” Sloane felt the tears come before she could stop them. Her mom, though gentle in most ways, made no move to wipe them away. They would become a reminder of her weakness. “She doesn’t have to give me anything. I don’t want anything from her. Mom, please, it can be somebody else. Not her, not Cass.” Even saying her name hurt, like a match lit, tilted to the tip of her tongue. That had been her mistake, proving just how much Cass meant to her. It had been no use, pushing Cass out of her window, or explaining that she’d been there for a measly book. Her mom had seen right through her, and it was all for nothing. The pain she had caused Cass, it was for nothing. 

“Your activation is most important, a pheata. I refuse to allow a human to control your feelings.” Shannon dropped the hold she had on Sloane’s jaw and turned towards the sink, grabbing the sponge and soap to begin cleaning the unused mugs. “This is for the best. You have worked up to this moment… all of those years, Sloane, you just want them to go to waste?” She clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth as she turned the faucet on. “I will not allow my daughter to follow after some ludicrous crush instead of fate.” Shannon’s voice rose in volume so that she could be heard over the running water. “Though it is selfish, I would prefer you not understand what real love is before it’s too late. To part with Cassidy now is a gift in itself. You will understand once you’ve seen fate for what it is. You may not understand now, but you will.” 

Sloane felt her mother’s fingers against her jaw even after she dropped her hold. She stayed planted in the middle of the kitchen as her mom turned to tend to chores. This was just another day for her, and she knew that. To Sloane, it felt as though the world was crashing down around her. To her mother, it was a triumph. Even though she knew that her mom was being selfish, Sloane couldn’t outright ask why it had to be Cass and not her dad, because she didn’t want to lose him either. To lose him would also mean her mother’s heartbreak, but Sloane couldn’t quite understand why it was her who had to lose and not her mother, too. If fate had the final say, wouldn't that make the most sense? It had been like that for generations, across banshee bloodlines. The father, a relative, but now Sloane had to lose Cass? Had to lose somebody who liked her for her, had to lose what it meant to find friendship in a place where her self-worth was often questioned? It was stupid. Sloane swallowed her argument as she turned on her heel. Sloane had friends in high places, and though she knew it would become cross with her, she would defy fate for Cass’s sake. 

Cass would not die for Sloane, not if Sloane could help it. 

[daphneseong]

A Mother’s Guilt.

TW: emotional abuse, not a lot but some. Kind of manipulation too.

Daphne lied, a lot. She could admit to that at least. Especially when it came to her family. The Seong name wasn’t one she was especially proud to have for most of her life, until she made it her own. And her parents, while they could be worse, weren’t exactly the best either. Something about their relationship seemed strained, at first. She assumed it was just the way things were in the society that they lived in. That it wasn’t that they didn’t love her or anything, they just had an image to uphold and that was more important than tenderness. She thinks her father enforced this behavior around their home the most, he was rigid in his ways of thinking and that made him a very stubborn man. He bought her what she asked for, he provided for her and in that way he loved her dearly. But he was not the coddling father she knew that others had. She didn’t blame him though, that was just the way he was raised to be. And she too, would grow up to be his spitting image. With her mother though, it was different. Maybe it was because her mother was known to be a gentle woman. She was kind and courteous but stern when she needed to be. Stubborn just as her husband was, still, she was just the loving hand that Daphne needed the most. She thinks, maybe that was why what she did hurt her the most. It was amazing how much her “love” made Daphne hate herself. 

Daphne’s mother wasn’t cruel, not at first, and certainly not because she wanted to. But she was a very unhappy woman and sometimes, she would punish Daphne. She was only two years old when they moved from Korea, but she remembered early on that their family had been happy. That when she turned five and became even rowdier, her mother would just laugh and get the servants to clean her up. That at eight years old, her father refused to stop giving her piggy back rides. At thirteen, they started treating her differently. And she had accepted it, at first. But then she noticed the tension between her parents, the way they couldn’t stand to be near each other for more than five minutes. She could sense something was wrong, at least. But at thirteen she was sneaking out of the house and getting herself into business she would normally be scolded for. Home was a distant place to her for a while. 

And then she was fifteen, and her mother started dressing her up in frillier dresses, tightening the curls in her hair with a nice pomade and brightening the apples of her cheeks with pinks and reds. She didn’t fret much though, because she could tell it was making her happy. And her mother hadn’t been happy since she was a little girl. But sometimes, she didn’t want to wear big dresses or powder her face. It was her rejection that brought her mother over the edge. She could remember that first day clearly. A lullaby on her mother’s lips cut short when she asked for a tailored pair of pants. Just something practical, for comfort. Her mother laughed at first, before she realized her daughter was being serious. And Daphne was relentless in her endeavors. She wouldn’t stop until she got what she wanted. But her mother didn’t have the patience for her foolishness that day, and she told her so. And maybe Daphne should’ve seen that as a sign, shouldn’t have pushed her any more than she already had. But she did and that day would remain one of the biggest mistakes of her life. 

That day her mother was not the kind woman she had come to know. That day, she became Daphne’s first bully. Even though she had never hurt her when she would brush through her hair, she was patient and most of all she was careful. She was neither of those things when she tugged on her curls, ignoring the cries of pain from the little girl in the seat. Tears gathered in her eyes as she muttered the filthiest words Daphne had ever heard. She was fed up. But only for that night it seemed because after that, she never did it again. And perhaps something in her was ashamed. She couldn’t touch her hair again either. But every time their eyes met, she looked to be drenched in sorrow. Like she was pleading with her daughter to forgive her. But Daphne could never utter a word about it. 

She did the same in the months leading to her mother’s death. She watched as that woman suffered all alone and didn’t utter a word. After all, what could she say? She left her too, when she needed her most.