#that one post about being the mutual that's always grieving was the last push to actually post this lmao bc it's been in my head all day
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To the students leaving trash bags filled with pillows (to mimic body bags) outside the admin’s offices, I wish a very fuck off. And to the students harassing our college President who is fighting cancer, I also wish a very fuck off.
Seriously. People here need to learn how to behave and not throw fucking tantrums when they don’t get what they want immediately. I get that you want to protest and be part of “big” cause. But why are the loudest voices I am hearing come from people not even being affected?
There are tensions on campus and clubs are pressuring students to sign a letter of grievances. And students who push back are being ostracized and isolated. I cried on Tuesday because of how frustrated I was with people here. We can’t grieve publicly here and have to wait until we are behind closed doors to do so. Otherwise we’d get attacked for being “dirty Zionists”. It disgusts me seeing people so eager to be antisemitic, to finally get a free pass to be horrible people without repercussions. Also, goyim should actually learn the definitions of the words they are throwing around before using them. Because it is so fucking clear that you don’t know how to use them.
I really have been leaning into being Jewish in the last few years because even before 10/7, it was isolating being Jewish on a college campus after coming from mostly Jewish environments growing up. And after doing a lot of deep thinking about how I want to continue living my life, I recognized that I will always be closer to my Jewish family and to those family traditions. And I would rather stand by my family and friends than become an outsider.
And to mutuals who only reblog my fandom content and avoid any and all posts about antisemitism, I see you. This is getting turned into a paper eventually, because it is fascinating seeing how people I know who claim to be progressive or leftist completely ignore antisemitism when it doesn’t fit their narrative. And individual posts I reblog that mention Palestine and Jewish people in the same context, know I see you only reblogging those.
If I know you in real life, know that I am deeply disappointed in you and wonder if you would even care if my family and I became one of the statistics you like to ignore.
Because my family has already been part of those, I just don’t talk about it. And I see you not caring.
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This ending .... I can name 500 reasons and I will name them right now, because I don’t think I’m the only one who is upset with how things turned out. (Also, A positive message for all of you at the end)
MAJOR LEAKS SPOILERS/ READ WITH CAUTION
Update: after reading more theories from fellow RM bloggers, and sleeping over it one day, this entire chapter might be an april fools... Don't fully lose hope yet beautiful people. It's me just giving a review on a possible fake April fools chapter
After following this franchise since 2013, so nearly a DECADE. this ending is a pure disserve to the entire fandom. I feel like Yams has rushed it just for the sake of being done with the entire manga. So many things are left open, characters and their developemt are reverted back all the way to chapter 1 or are left even worse than that...
Mikasa’s worthless character development/ Aaronmika’s horrible toxic codependent relationship
Oh honey... Let’s start with how horrible Isayama has treated her. We were all rooting for her, because we all felt like she was so misunderstood. She had a horrible childhood and imprinted on a guy who treated her like trash 99 percent of the story. And then, slowly but surely, she starts to realize she has to stop obsessing over him in the uprising arc with the help of a real man who treats her like a queen, more importantly, he treats her like a real human being. This man sees her for her abilities and that she has the power to be self dependent. She learned parts of herself, that she was able to work together with him like no one else could. She learned parts of herself she was unable to do so if she kept obsessing about Aaron. All this love, care, mutual understanding and RESPECT these two shared.
but...NAH FUCK THAT, right Yams?? Throw all this development away, all this bonding. Let’s make the main female lead even more yandere than she already was in the first season. Let her make out with his decapacitated head (like dude, this is also pure disrespect to Aaron’s dead body btw) and let her obsess even more about the guy who has treated her no better than a piece of toilet cloth 99 percent of the time. The guy who was never really appreciative in front of her for saving his ass billions of times, who always pushed her away, who yells at her and snaps at her whenever he can instead of reasoning and talking calmly with her in mature way. (EVEN PARODY YOUTUBE CHANNELS WHO DONT SHIP ANYTHING MAKE IT A TROPE WHERE AARON TELLS MIKASA HE HATES HER GUTS WHENEVER HE CAN)
Then after all that, suddenly Yams tries to last minute persuade us Aaron’s always been head over heels for her??? He should have build their relationship better which he hasn’t even tried to do so... He must be thinking his fans are stupid for eating this from his hands.
Like seriously??? What is this???
Isayama is just fully contradicting himself. It’s like someone tipped him off with a buttload of money for him to write Aaron like this to satisfy shipping needs and to cash in those extra money’s from it. Even if he tried to cater to Erem*ika, this is not how you write a loving and caring couple which people will root for.
This next two panels just freaking infuriates me to the core of my soul. I can’t even describe how dissapointed I am with Mikasa.
Why is she clutching that head so obsessively like that? Why is she walking and turning her back away from her comrades? After everything they have done for her, after all they’ve been through?! After everything Armin has done? Standing up for Mikasa, beating up Aaron for hurting her. I feel like even Jean, Connie and Sasha have cared more for her in a healthy way. Sure, Aaron cares for her romantically too apparently (What a twist Yams :)), but has he aided her to becoming a mentally healthier individual? Has he aided in her mental stability? The answer is a big fat NO! All I see between these two after today’s raw Chapter’s are too Yandere obsessed individuals who have no clue on how to maintain a healthy relationship.
Love should only go as far as the heart can endure and it seems like her character is not willing to be aware of that. Even Armin was able to let go of Aaron in those latest panels. Why does her entire character resolve around this guy??? I really do not understand. Her Ackerbond and her age is not an excuse for her to throw her life away like this.
Shonen’s disgusting portrayal of women
I’ve seen this countless of times in the many years I’ve watched anime. SasuS*ku from Naruto, Ichih*me from Bleach, Shinji and that oranged hair girl from Neon Evangelion.. Why do these women get decreased to simpletons with one single goal? And that is to obsess over a bland male lead who either treats them like trash or doesn’t notice them up until the last last chapter (LITERALLY WHAT YAMS HAS DONE). Some go even as far as the male leading wanting the kill the female love interest and yet the female lead is still in love with them???. It’s disgusting for him to write the MAIN female character this way.
It’s dissapointing we believed in Isayama doing Mikasa’s character right. That she’s finally being able to let go of her codependency and to live for herself maybe live in Hizuru and find more about her roots???, but every single time she shows some improvement, it’s burried deep in the ground again by the Author. It almost seems like a lowkey kink of some of the male Mangaka’s to write about a girl obsessing over them no matter what. I see this so many times to the point that I truly stand behind it that some of them might have this fantasy.
I wished he didn’t portray her last panels like this. Everyone else is living their lives while Mikasa is still grieving about him. I’m not saying she’s not allowed to grieve and everyone takes it at their own pace, but cmon... Show her living her life too. This is too much. Her being next to his grave and grieving him as her last panels just shoves it in our faces that YET AGAIN, BEING OBSESSED WITH AARON IS ALL HER CHARACTER STANDS FOR.
I truly despise how Isayama handles her grieving, kissing his decapacitated head, carrying it around like some handbag, and her last panels being thissss.
The world leaving Paradis alone miraciously after all that???
It’s so weird and out of place with so many political feuds and disagreements between the world and Paradis, the entire Rumbling happening and we can see Mikasa just chilling outside in Paradis with no one bothering them. You can see the rings of the walls in the picture below. I don’t know the exact reason behind as the manga is still in Korean, but from what I see, the story went the route of: throwing a happy ending without enough proper reason and it was all fixed just like that in a snap! It doesn’t fit the entire narrative of attack on titan for things to be so peacful out of nowhere. When it comes to the narrative, how things work in that world, how hard it is to achieve peace, everything made somewhat sense up until chapter 138. 139 seems so so out of place... It’s like I’m reading a chapter from a totally different manga.
Aaron Yoghurt got defeated so easily/ Aaron’s character assassination
The build up on the first part of the rumbling was great, those kids carrying coins. You could feel humanity’s fear and Aaron’s hatred in those pages. As if he truly had a goal and he has turned away completely from his comrades and his closest friends with no return. The world seemed truly doomed, but he got defeated just like that. He was in the nape all this time (because screw the warhammer power of hiding yourself elsewhere in his ginormous titan body). There is no master plan as we all expected, and in the end he just acts all yandere in the paths with Armin and that’s it... They massacared his entire character as well. Many fan theories created a better ending with his character. Him being reincarnated as Historia’s baby would be so much better. For him to still keep on seeking and to strive for power. It has always been his motive. It’s his personality from the start until chapter 138. Even if things are okay, to keep on going and to seek that adventure, but then.. He’s so weak and directionless suddenly.. It’s so weird... This is not Aaron at all???
Using Aaron for him this entire post, because I don’t want others to invade our tags... :)))
Historia’s baby
The only panel we got from Historia’s child was this. Just a normal kid, normal life... Why did Isayama put so much effort in highlighting Historia’s pregnancy if it was nothing too spectacular anyway? It seemed he had major plans for this kid and for their development too??? It’s again, big plans, big developments, big relationship dynamic, but all got thrown out of the window...
Don’t read the next sentence if you are a minor :’)
It’s like almost ejaculating, but stopping right before it and repeating that every single Arc.
My energy when writing about this chapter is the same as Nostalgia Critic and his hatred for atla the live action
In Conclusion...
I know us fans should not be deciding on how this story should end, because this is Isayama’s story after all, but I truly wished for him to wrap up things much more rounded. There are so many unanswered questions... Again, I think for the sake of being done with this manga, he rushed all of it. He’s become a millionaire from this story and now his pockets are jammed full, I guess he doesn’t need to put in any effort anymore, right? Perhaps a controversial opinion, but I really wished he cared for his fans a little bit more with this last chapter by giving some answers that make sense at least. It’s his fans who gave him this platform and the opportunity to tell his story and for him to at least give in a bit of effort especially in the last chapter is the least he can do. Rivamika being canon or not, he truly rushed it without thinking much about the entire story line. He expanded it so much, he didn’t know how to bind it all together.
Even after all this, I’ll still ship them in the headcanon type of way. I do give credit to Isayama for giving us a template for such a beautiful dynamic between Levi and Mikasa. He decides to waste it, but that doesn’t mean we have to. I want to thank all the people with amazing writing skills, the ones who give us beautiful art like @carmenlee @phit chan @vialesana and many more. I want to remind all of you that we can create something beautiful of our own and we don’t neccesarily need canon lore for that. The art I’ve seen, the fanfictions I’ve read have touched me deeper than Isayama ever could at times.The Mikasa in our mind is appreciate of Levi, is mature, classy and has a strong will for herself. They spend their remaining days together peacefully. Keep writing, keep drawing, stay creative.
I love you all so so much, I’ve only been publicly active since March, but thank you Rivamika fandom for giving me so much joy as a lurker these past 7 years <3
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Ameliorate
Your life was always a dark abyss until Matsukawa came in and made everything better
Matsukawa x f!reader
a/n: hands down the most difficult piece I’ve worked on but it’s finally done. not sure how i feel about it but i hope you all enjoy it anyway! kind of a slow burn fyi
tw: smut, oral (f!reader receiving), heavy angst, mentions of death/grieving
wc: 5.8k
It was a call you didn’t want to take. You were at work going over some accounts when the screen of your cell came to life and angrily vibrated on your desk. Sighing, you reached over to swipe on the red phone icon but the caller id caught your eye leaving you stunned.
[Mother]
You almost missed the call, lost in the negative emotions that the title unburied from the dark recesses of your mind. On impulse, you answered last minute and took a deep breath before you spoke to your mother for the first time since you left home four years ago. In the second it took for your mother to speak, you held out for an apology but instead received the news that your father had passed away the night before.
You exchanged few words with your mother, who was as frigid as ever, but nonetheless agreed to return home for the funeral. After informing your supervisor and taking off the rest of the week, you collected your things to leave only to be bombarded by your coworkers offering their condolences. You accepted their sincerity but felt nothing except for a queer emptiness.
Upon reaching the ground floor of the building, the elevator doors opened and a familiar voice caught your attention. You looked up to face your ex-fiancé speaking animatedly on the phone—until he saw you and his smile faltered.
It had been a mutual decision. After two years of dating, he’d wanted marriage and you—well, you weren’t sure what you wanted but marriage sure wasn’t it. The last you’d heard he had gotten married to some girl from HR and he looked happy. You plastered a smile on your face and greeted him with a nod before heading out.
At least one of you was happy.
On the train to Miyagi, memories of your parents occupied your thoughts. Your relationship them had always been strained. As the only child of a prestigious university professor and a retired news anchor turned housewife, they expected a lot from you academically and socially. Throughout your childhood, you struggled under the immense pressure they placed and you , more often than not, disappointed them.
It seemed that no matter how hard you tried to be their perfect daughter, you always fell short and got reproached accordingly. Your above average grades were never good enough. Your clumsiness and constant slouch made you unladylike, and your awkward mumbled speech was shameful. No matter what you did, the scrutiny never stopped and your imperfections only worsened over time. Your grades fell, you avoided going out with your parents to social events, and you spoke very little to your parents.
A quiet girl with no self-esteem, you started high school at Aoba Josai and everything changed when you met Matsukawa Issei. He approached you first during homeroom on your first day of school and never stopped talking to you from then on. He was patient and kind with you but also pushed you to get out of you shell. Before you knew it, he became your best friend and the two of you spent all of your free time together.
Issei’s friendship raised you up in many forms. Your grades increased after all those study sessions with him and Hanamaki. You stopped looking down at your shoes and found that the sky was much nicer to look at. You laughed, yelled, cried, and talked to Issei about anything and everything.
The change had been so sudden that even your parents noticed and treated you better. They stopped criticizing your every movement and that did wonders to your confidence. While the relationship between you and your parents slightly improved, your relationship with Issei bloomed like the cherry blossoms that fell on the day he confessed to you. For the first time in your life, you were truly happy until everything shattered when your parents found out about you and Issei.
You were reckless with the lies you told your parents to sneak out and see Issei. Your mind was clouded with thoughts of your boyfriend that you hadn’t noticed your parents had been awake when you snuck out at night. That night your parents caught you outside on a park bench with Issei’s head on your lap. As a result, you were confined to your room for a week with your mother becoming your personal jailer and after getting a taste of love and freedom—you refused to go back to being that insecure girl.
You rebelled against your parents. You got into screaming matches with your mother and argued with your father. The worst part of it all was the guilt that you felt after you’d yell at your mother or insulted your father. In that moment, you’d see the hurt in their eyes and the hesitation before they sent you to your room. You hated those looks because it proved that they too had feelings and you were capable of hurting them just like they’d hurt you.
Until you graduated, you lived like a ghost in your own home avoiding your parents as much as you could. You filled the emptiness you felt with Issei, who became your whole world. You went to all of his volleyball matches, he picked you up after work, and you spent most of your time at his house and with his family. The two of you planned a future together during your first year at college in Yokohama until the news of your mother falling ill sent you back home.
“Now arriving at Tokyo station”
The announcement interrupted your musings and you pulled out your phone to distract yourself from the bustle of people exiting the train. You scrolled through your social media page until a rare post from an old friend caught your attention. Oikawa had uploaded a photo of a historic site in Argentina and you found yourself searching for Issei’s name among the thousands of likes and comments. While Issei’s name hadn’t popped up, Hanamaki’s did and you clicked on his profile thoughtlessly. It didn’t take much digging on your behalf to find what you were looking for.
Only a couple of posts down was a photo of Hanamaki and Issei from a year ago at a restaurant you would recognize anywhere—after all, you’d worked there for two years. You couldn’t help but admire how good they looked. You memorized every detail of Issei’s face before a thought crossed your mind and your finger hovered over the screen.
A tap on the photo revealed Issei’s account and you hesitated to wonder if stalking your ex-boyfriend’s social media was the right move before you tapped on his username anyway and his profile opened up. It was on private to your dismay but his account picture showed you more than enough. It was one of Issei with one arm swung over a pretty woman’s shoulder. Shutting off your phone, you tried to convince yourself that you didn’t care but the tightness in your chest proved otherwise.
Gazing out the window at the rural towns the train passed reminded you of your father and his love for the countryside. You hated to admit it but, after living in the city for three years, you came to share the same sentiments as your father.
After returning home following the news of your mother’s illness, your father moved the family to rural Miyagi believing the fresh country air would do her good. Moving back with your parents wasn’t as difficult as you’d feared after leaving everything behind. Your mother still nagged you over everything but not as cruelly and would occasionally compliment your cooking when you fed her.
It was the relationship with your father, however, that changed the most which was why his deception hurt you the most. Your father was the one that helped you transfer to the university he taught at. The two of you always left for school together and conversations about school eventually filled the quiet void during those hour-long train rides to Sendai. Your conversations became personal at night over tea or sake and, in those moments, you felt as if you could forgive your parents and develop a relationship with them.
You should have been more suspicious about your mother’s condition. Whenever you asked your father about it, you’d attributed his wavering gaze to concern over your mother. The improved relationship between you and your parents distracted you from the unchanging condition of your mother despite constant medication and hospital visits. It never crossed your mind that the sickness had only been a ploy to guilt you into coming back to Miyagi so your parents could resume molding their matured daughter into what they wanted.
You found out by chance while listening in to a conversation amongst them but that was all it took to turn your newfound affection for your parents into resentment. For the entirety of the confrontation, you bit back tears when their reactions confirmed everything had been made up. After packing up your things and disowning your parents, you left home vowing never to come back.
“Now arriving at Sendai station”
The long drive to your childhood home did nothing to prepare you for the meeting with your mother. She looked tired and beat down; a sharp contrast to the strong woman she used to be.
“You look awful,” She chided, eyeing you with her sharp gaze. “You’re thin and sickly.”
“So are you.” Your retort was immediate and thoughtless but it shut your mother up. After a moment of deafening silence, she offered to help you with your bag but you declined.
“Come downstairs after you unpack. Dinner is almost ready.” With that, your mother left to the kitchen.
You were surprised to find your room in the same state it had been when you left for college. Palming through your old notebooks, opening your drawers to sift through old clothes, and collapsing on your bed to bury your nose in the sheets made you miss the simpler days of high school.
In the end, you were too distracted by your room to unpack but made sure to wash up before heading down to dinner—a habit your mother instilled in you and returned after only being in the house for twenty minutes. You also took your usual spot across your mother while the chair that your father had once sat in stood bare at the head of the table. The empty spot was disconcerting but your eyes remained fixed on the chair while your mind worked to restore the image of your father on it. Your trancelike state stopped when your mother cleared her throat.
“The wake will be tomorrow morning so ready by nine.”
“Do I need to do anything?”
“A small speech is expected of you.” She stated and left no room for argument. “There will also be familiar faces so behave accordingly.”
The meaning behind your mother’s warning dawned on you when the two of you entered the funeral home and were greeted by the one familiar face you didn’t expect to see—Issei.
If he was surprised to see you, he didn’t show it and was all business when he addressed your mother. Your shock only increased when your mother didn’t go off on Issei and instead treated him like an actual human.
When his sharp gaze shifted to your form, the air around you seemed to thicken and breathing became impossible. Standing in front of Issei took you back in time to those days when Issei would wait for you in the mornings to walk to school. You could have lost yourself in his eyes but the purpose of your return tore your eyes away and you bowed in greeting, not trusting your voice. He bowed as well and offered his condolences before turning to your mother and discussing the schedule and other details as they walked into the building with you in tow.
The discomfort you felt during the service increased tenfold with the arrival of the guests. Former colleagues of your father, friends of your mother, and neighbors crowded the small funeral home and they all had their eyes on you. The condolences, hugs, and pats left you suffocated and desensitized. Before long, their words fused together into a clangor that left you disoriented. You thought you were going to pass out until a former professor of yours asked a question that destroyed whatever remained of your composure.
“…so when did they find out the tumor was malignant?”
Tumor?
Malignant?
Your overwhelmed brain pieced together the information until you understood what had caused your father’s death—cancer. In that moment, everything ceased to exist and there was only you and your thoughts. Your blood ran cold and all of your limbs went numb. While your mouth hung open, not a syllable fell from your lips. As opposed to your frozen body, your mind raced and a whirlwind of emotions wreaked havoc on your being. When you came to terms with the fact that you hadn’t known your father’s cause of death, a strangled cry escaped your mouth and you darted out of the room.
The urge to leave and never return overcame all logic but, before you could make it out the door, a pair of large warm hands clasped your shoulders, gently stopping you dead in your tracks. The faint smell of cologne and musk hit you and you knew it was Issei before you looked up.
Warmth radiated from every part of his body and all you wanted was to bury yourself into him and hide from the world. His eyes widened slightly before he looked around and guided you away into a small room away from the guests. There was a sofa that he led you too and sat down next to you. Suddenly, Issei’s hands were on your cheeks wiping away tears you didn’t know where there.
“God…I’m a fucking mess.” You cursed and buried your face into your hands.
“Funerals are…difficult,” Issei offered. “Trust me, I work here.”
“I didn’t know,” you muttered raising your head. “I didn’t even know how my father died. I never asked my mother and she never told me. She just told me he died and I took a train here without thinking.”
“Everyone processes death differently, Y/N.”
“Fuck, Issei—I’m his only daughter for crying out loud!” Your voice broke as a fresh set of tears threatened to spill. “We’ve never had a stable relationship…but still, what kind of a daughter doesn’t know the cause of death of her own father? I just feel like I’m suffocating and I-I…”
Sobs tore out of your chest inhibiting you from speaking and Issei didn’t hesitate to envelop you in his strong arms that rocked you while he whispered calming reassurances in your ear.
“Shhh…it’s okay.”
“Everything will be fine.”
“This will pass.”
Your cries eventually ceased but neither of you let go. It felt easy to cling onto Issei while he held you just as tightly. The return of your wits, however, brought you back to reality and you let him go knowing it wasn’t right to cling onto anyone’s boyfriend—even if he’d been your friend before he’d been your boyfriend.
“Thank you, Issei. I should really head back now.”
Issei’s grip loosened slowly until he faced you with his thick brows knitted with concern. You smiled hoping it was convincing enough to reassure him before the two of you stood up and left the room. Near the entrance of the hall stood your mother angrily pacing back and forth until she saw you and Issei and opened her mouth to speak but stopped. You decided to speak first before she misunderstood the situation.
“I needed some space to calm down and Issei helped me find a place.”
Her piercing eyes took you in and lingered on your eyes; they were no doubt red and puffy from crying. The anger seemed to dissipate and her shoulder’s relaxed before she finally addressed you.
“It’s time for your speech. Are you ready?”
Coming from the woman that never asked you anything, her question caught you off guard but stirred something in you. You answered by nodding and followed your mother into the packed hall and up to the front where your father lied in his coffin. You stood to the side while your mother addressed the guests and you looked at your father for the first time in years.
The sight should have made you feel anything but the relief that washed over you. He looked at peace and it reminded you of the rare glimpses you’d caught of him talking with his students, fishing in the small pond of your country home, or drinking sake at night. It was with those memories that you replaced your mother and spoke to the guests.
You were composed for the entire speech despite your distraught state only minutes prior. It felt like a blanket of serenity had wrapped itself over your shoulders and shielded you from any remaining guilt. In the end, you wished your father well not because you forgave him but because you wanted to close that chapter in your book.
The rest of the ceremony was easier to stomach without the turmoil in your head. After the last guest left, you and your mother spoke to Issei and his boss about last minute details for the funeral the next day. Your mother offered a brisk thanks before heading out first and Issei’s boss followed, leaving you and your ex alone. The desire to ask him for his contact info was immense, but your better judgement won and you offered him a quick thanks before following your mother.
Very little words were exchanged with your mother that night and you headed up to bed completely drained from the day’s events. You’d just finished hanging up your mourning clothes when your mother knocked on the door and waited until you let her in—something she never did.
Still in her mourning gown, she held out a letter addressed to you from your father and seeing her up close, you noticed the wet cheeks and puffy red skin around her eyes. In all the years you lived with your mother, you had never seen her cry. Crying out hysterically? Yes. Witnessing actual tears or the evidence of tears on her face, however, not even once. Which was why you stood stunned as your mother placed the letter in your hand before leaving you to your privacy.
You tore open the sealed envelope and opened the letter to see that it was dated one year ago.
{Daughter,
If you are reading this, it is because I am no longer on this earth. As the disease weakens my body, I know that I will never see you again and write this to convey everything that I could not in life. I am well-aware that I lost the right to your forgiveness and I do not wish to receive it. Nothing will ever justify my actions towards you. I failed you as a father and caused you to grow up in a miserable home. I held you to expectations that not even I could achieve and I will regret the pain and suffering I caused you until my last breath.
I remember the day your mother brought you into this world. When I saw your frail little body and held you in my arms for the first time, I was struck with an immeasurable amount of fear. I was terrified of being a father and didn’t want you to suffer the way I did. I wanted to prepare you for the world in the way my parents never did for me. However, in the end, my own selfish desires to re-live my life through you tainted whatever intentions I’d had. I will never forgive myself for the irreparable damage I caused you therefore I ask that you do the same.
I wish to end this message by expressing how proud I am of the strong woman you’ve become. Everything you’ve accomplished is derived of your own merits and in spite of the suffering I caused you. Your mother and I are happy to hear of your successes and wish you happiness in your married life. I know you will live a long and happy life because you are not like me. You’re a fighter. You know what you want and take it without regrets.
With this, I hope that you will continue to grow and forget me as I am undeserving of living in your thoughts.}
What began as tears trailing down your cheeks, ended up as wails mourning your father. The proud man that you knew him to be in life came undone in that short letter and every word pierced your heart. In a manner reminiscent of the past, you disobeyed his requests and genuinely forgave your father while engraving each of his words into your heart.
The urge to see your mother led you to tuck away the letter and open the door only to find her already there. Muffling her sobs with her hands, her whole body shook as she gazed up at you. The fragility of her state stirred your compassion and your arms wrapped around her. Collapsing onto the ground, the two of you clung to each other and truly mourned the death of your father.
You woke up enveloped in motherly warmth like you were an infant again. Her eyes that once scrutinized your every move, were softer now as she talked about your father’s last days over breakfast. The hand that had disciplined you in the past now held yours during the Buddhist priest’s chant at the funeral. The circumstances were wretched but you finally felt at peace with your parents.
The funeral and cremation passed with you and your mother holding each other up. As the two of you jointly picked up the bone fragments with chopsticks and placed them in the urn, you came to terms with the fact that the relationship with your mother would never go back to what it was. A sense of filial duty stirred within you for the first time in a while only it wasn’t out of guilt—this time, you genuinely wanted to take care of your mother.
You found yourself outside of the crematorium waiting for your mother to settle things when Issei walked up to you. He’d been at the funeral ceremony, of course, but the crematorium wasn’t a part of his duties so you were surprised to see him. He still wore his black slacks and matching button down but his tie was nowhere to be seen and he’d undone the top two buttons of his shirt.
He began by inquiring about the cremation to make sure everything had gone well. You assured him everything went well before an awkward silence pervaded the space between. Desperate to fill the void with anything, you asked Issei a question only to find him simultaneously asking you one.
“Talked to Hana—”
“How long are yo—”
Your face flushed and Issei rubbed the back of his head as the two of you apologized for interrupting each other.
“You go first,” Issei gently insisted.
“I was going to ask if you’d talked to Hanamaki lately. I saw that you two went out…” The implication of your words caused you to clamp your mouth shut while your face burned even more.
“You saw…us?” Issei sounded amused and you looked up to find that same smirk from six years ago that produced butterflies in your stomach.
“Er…yeah,” you admitted. “I kinda found Hanamaki’s social media and happened a picture of you two.”
“Oh, that picture. That was the last time I saw him since he lives in Tokyo now. We still text though.”
“So Tokyo, huh? Good for Hanamaki.”
“What about you?” Issei asked, his eyes more intense than before. “Your mother mentioned you live in the city.”
“Uh yeah,” You said fidgeting with the material of your kimono. “I live in Yokohama. Got a job offer after graduation and I’ve been there ever since.”
“…Are you going back now?”
Issei avoided your eyes by looking away—an old habit you instantly recognized. Like the old days, you moved in the direction of his face and stood on your tippy toes with a cheeky grin on your face. Surprise flashed on his eyes before his mouth broke into a fond smile.
“I’m staying for a couple more days.” You replied and the next word flowed out naturally like water in a stream. “Why?”
“I wanted to catch up with you.” He admitted before his expression sobered. “Only if you’re up for it though. I don’t want you to feel like—”
“I’d love to catch up!”
And with that, the two of you exchanged contact information before your mother approached you. As you watched Issei walk away, you mother piped up next to you.
“He’s a good man. I regret not seeing it before.” It wasn’t exactly an apology but the effect was the same to you.
“And I regret letting him go,” you lamented.
“You still have a chance.” She replied and you met her gaze.
“I don’t. He has a girlfriend.”
“Then why did I overhear his boss trying to set him up on a date with his niece?” Your mother countered and then started to walk towards the newly arrived taxi.
“Wait, what?!”
Heeding your mother’s advice, you dressed up for your meeting with Issei. He picked you up and the first thing you noticed was the similar colored clothing the two of you wore. Laughing it off, you got into his car and made small talk about the changes in town while on route to the restaurant.
The conversation gave you the perfect excuse to admire him at ease. Issei had always been handsome but you had to admit that he’d really grown into his looks. Any lingering teenage awkwardness was gone and replaced by an air of confidence that he exuded in his speech, mannerisms, and voice. From his defined jaw to the protruding veins on his exposed forearm, you memorized each detail and replaced the memory you had of college freshman Issei with it.
Issei took you to the same restaurant you spent most of your evenings in during high school waiting tables and chatting with the volleyball team after closing time. Unlike the rest of the town, the tables, chairs, and décor remained the same and you were overcome with emotion the moment you walked in. After chatting with the owner for a bit, Issei led you to the table the boys would always take after practice to wait until you got off work.
“I can’t believe this place remained the same after all these years.” You commented after placing your orders.
“I know,” Issei replied grinning. “I can’t imagine this town without it.”
“Just sitting here brings back so many memories of us…” you trailed off when you noticed Issei’s unwavering gaze on you.
“Ah! And the boys too!” You added letting out a nervous giggle before taking a sip of your beer to cool your heated head. “How are they, by the way? I’ve seen Oikawa’s posts of Argentina but what about Iwaizumi?”
The conversation about the whereabouts of the volleyball team lasted until the food arrived. You asked about his family in between bites and Issei answered each of your questions about his siblings and parents.
After finishing your meal and ordering a second round of drinks the conversation switched over to work with Issei eager to find out what you did.
“Financing! Can you believe it?” You laughed. “Specifically, in the mortgage department.”
“Seriously?” Issei chuckled. “Whatever happened to being a novelist?”
“Life happened.” You answered and raised your glass in a mock toast.
“Ah, trust me. I completely understand.” He clinked his glass against yours and the two of you laughed before taking a sip.
After finishing your second beer, the warmth in your cheeks and your animated speech were all clear signs you were buzzed. It wasn’t until you asked the question on your mind since you’d seen that picture that you realized just how buzzed you actually were.
“So…are you seeing anyone?” Your eyes were lowered, but when Issei didn’t respond you looked up.
Issei’s eyes were darker than they’d been. The intensity of his gaze locked your eyes on his leaving you vulnerable. You were suddenly keenly aware how intensely your heart was beating and wondered if Issei could hear it.
“Why do you ask?”
His strained voice sent chills down your spine making you painfully aware of the building tension in your core. You knew what you wanted and you suspected he wanted the same thing but you needed to confirm your suspicions.
“I saw your social media account and the picture you used. The one where you’re hugging a woman…smiling…”
The more words that spilled out, the more pathetic you sounded and you eventually trailed off while averting your eyes.
“We broke up about a year ago.”
“What?!” The word slipped through your lips when your eyes snapped back to see him sheepishly running a hand through his wavy black locks.
“We wanted different things. I felt like I was holding her back so I let her go.”
“I completely understand,” echoing his words, your hand reached across the table to his. “My engagement got cancelled for similar reasons. He wanted marriage sooner than later and I wasn’t ready.”
The two of you shared a moment when, out of the blue, Issei took ahold of your hand and used his thumb to run slow circles on your palm; a gesture he’d always used to signal he wanted to be alone with you. Your breath hitched and a lazy smirk graced his face as he lifted your wrist and pressed a kiss on your pulse point.
“I-Issei,” you gasped and darted your eyes around the room to ensure no one had seen.
“Let’s get out of here. Come to my place.”
His voice was like honey to your ears and you nodded as the tension that’d been building spread to other parts of your body. With that the bill was settled and Issei drove you to his place while keeping a hand on your inner thigh that would occasionally drift and tease your clit.
By the time the two of you made it inside his home, Issei’s tongue had tasted every part of your mouth while his lips left yours swollen. Flushed and whimpering, Issei planted wet butterfly kisses down your jaw until he reached that spot on your neck that elicited a moan from your parted lips.
Issei groaned before sucking on that spot and you to pulled him closer by tugging on his hair—a move you knew drove him crazy.
“Fuck,” his warm breath fanned on your neck. “Fuck—not here.”
He picked you up and you wrapped your legs around his waist. You pulled his lips into another wet kiss that had him groaning into your mouth as his erection pressed against your soaked panties. He set you down on his bed and broke the kiss that left the two of you panting.
His hungry gaze traveled all over your body. Your dress was hiked up and he could make out the darkened material of your panties—the proof of your arousal. With a groan his stripped out of his shirt letting you take in his broad chest that you ached to touch. Grinning from your cute reaction he pressed a kiss to your forehead before snaking his arm behind your waist and laying you down on this middle of his bed. You reached for his clothed erection but Issei gripped your hand and placed it over your head.
“Not yet, pretty girl. Let me spoil you today.”
Issei’s skilled hands worked on your dress and slipped it off you followed by your bra and panties. His eyes raked over your body taking in the flushed skin, erect nipples, and trembling legs.
“Beautiful,” he murmured and leaned over to lick and suck on your sensitive peaks. Each flick against a nipple had you gasping. Each bite had you arching your back. The longer he teased, the more desperate your need to be touched and filled became until you took his hand and placed it between your legs.
“T-touch, me Issei, p-please...”
“That’s my needy girl,” he cooed and pressed one last kiss to your chest before settling between your legs and admiring the way your dribbling cunt clenched around nothing. “Such a pretty cunt.”
He flattened his tongue on your throbbing clit sending shocks of pleasure up your body. Issei’s mouth that alternated between sucking and biting down on your clit had you in tears from the immense pleasure and you lost count of how many times you came on his face. When his tongue delved into your aching cunt, you rutted against his face to push his tongue in deeper.
“Nghhh—Isseiiiii! Need y’now, please!”
Issei’s head rose from between you legs and just sight of his face covered in your arousal had your cunt pulsing again.
“What was that baby?” He teased and licked the translucent substance off his lips. His hands began to work on his pants and your eyes greedily took in his tented underwear. “Is this what you want, pretty girl?”
“Y-yes! Need it!”
It’d been so long since you’d been with a guy let alone one of Issei’s size. In fact, you were certain Issei was the biggest you’d ever had. That being said, the sight of his erect cock had you whimpering from both apprehension and desire.
Issei, always so attentive, noticed your reaction and settled himself on top before pressing a sweet kiss on your lips and assuring you he’d be gentle. You nodded before wrapping your arms around his neck while he rubbed his cock between your folds and against your clit in the way he’d always done before filling you.
Once your slick coated his cock, he lined himself at your entrance and slowly sheathed himself into you. The stretch was still painful even with the prep but as soon as he was halfway in, your walls relaxed and pain turned into pleasure. After bottoming out, Issei waited for your cunt to relax around him before he started moving.
With each thrust, Issei hit that spot near your cervix that built up your release time and time again. Every time your walls fluttered and your cum coated his cock, your nails raked over his back and Issei’s groans filled your ears until he too found his release. The two of you were insatiable and continued your lovemaking until the early hours of the morning.
In the end, you stayed the night and woke up mid-day with your head against Issei’s chest and his arms wrapped around you. Listening to his steady heartbeat and feeling the rise and fall of his chest convinced you of the thought you’d mulled over since your father’s funeral.
You wouldn’t return to Yokohama.
#hq#haikyuu#hq smut#haikyuu smut#hq oneshots#haikyuu oneshot#matsukawa#matsukawa issei#matsukawa smut#matsukawa angst#matsukawa x reader#matsukawa x you#hq x reader#haikyuu x reader#hq x you#haikyuu x you#hq fanfic#haikyuu fanfic#angst#slow burn#coping with death#tw: smut#navs.hq#navs.ameliorate#hqintheclub
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It’s Cold in that Fridge: The Case of Nakari Kelen
Since The Case of Mara Jade has been doing the rounds again, I’ve finally gone back to this post that has been sitting in my drafts for literally years. So let’s honour this absolute badass who deserved better:
Once upon a time, the Star Wars universe was but six films (and a tv series) in the story of the Skywalker family. But beyond George Lucas’ story was an absolute boatload of books, comics, games, and other materials that made up the Expanded Universe. When Disney purchased Lucasfilm and the rights to the Star Wars saga, everything in this universe was decanonised and deemed “Legends” - some aspects of this universe were retained or re-purposed, others sit in Disney’s figurative vault and will likely never see the light of day (and seeing how the ST turned out, maybe that’s for the best).
But this transition between Legends canon and Disney canon was not so simple, because the nature of publishing meant that there were novels approved during the time of Legends canon that would be released in the time of Disney canon. In particular, there had been the planned trilogy “Empire and Rebellion”, set between A New Hope and The Empire Strikes Back, with each novel from the perspective of one of The Big Three.
Razor’s Edge (Leia) and Honor Among Thieves (Han) were released prior to the Great Canon Split of 2014. But while the Luke-centric novel had been planned, it was not due to be released until well after the Split. So Heir to the Jedi (so called as an homage to the Legends progenitor Heir to the Empire) became one of the first books of the Disney canon.
What does this background have to do with Nakari Kelen? Perhaps nothing, but I do wonder how the writing process was affected by the shift from Legends to Disney - was the novel a relic of the old EU with any reference the LFL storygroup didn’t like excised during editing, or was it a trendsetter for the new EU, a Sign of Things to Come?
The most salient point being, of course, that Nakari Kelen - like so many love interests before her - was not allowed to go along her merry way at the conclusion of the novel, but was shoved into the fridge.
If there was one constant of the Legends EU, it was that Luke Skywalker’s love interests couldn’t catch a break. Mara Jade naturally lasted the longest relationship-wise, with almost twenty years of marriage to Luke before some bright spark decided she had to go (as per the aforementioned case study). But before Mara there was Jem, Shira Brie, and Gaeriel Captison (who came close to escaping the curse), and in the Legacy of the Force series they brought back sole survivors Akanah and Callista, only to kill them off for good too (and rather brutally, if I may add).
So perhaps when Kevin Hearne began writing HttJ within the confines of the Legends continuity, he was merely sticking to the status quo, or perhaps once subsumed by Disney they needed to make sure Luke's slate was clean (so to speak). And I can’t put all the blame on Hearne since I don’t know whether it was his idea, or LFL mandated - but regardless it was a poor decision.
The root cause of fridging, imo, is limited imagination. How best to cause your male protagonist pain if not kill off someone they love, or at least have strong feelings for? The answer is of course, easily. But I’m getting ahead of myself.
The Luke Skywalker of HttJ is fresh from his victory in ANH, a lieutenant in the Rebellion: young, not dumb, and full of...
Nakari Kalen is an absolute Queen a civilian volunteer and crack-shot sniper who loans her ship Desert Jewel to the Alliance. Luke is immediately attracted to her, they bond over a mutual love of fast ships and leaving behind desert home planets, and engage in the inexpert flirting of two nineteen year olds while also risking their lives several times over.
I want to make it clear: I actually really like this book. It's a breezy read, almost serialised as The Early Adventures of Luke Skywalker, and is ofttimes genuinely funny. And credit where it’s due to Hearne, many of of the supporting roles in the novel are female. Other than Nakari, there's Soonta, the Rodian who gives Luke her uncle’s lightsaber, Sakhet the Kupohan spy, and the Givin cryptographer/math genius Drusil Bephorin. In a genre where male characters are often the default for these kind of roles, it was nice to see, but makes the regressive fridging of Nakari even more egregious.
Luke and Nakari make a good team fighting brain-sucking monsters and Imperials, but more importantly they have fun together - she encourages him to work on his Force skills, and he successfully moves objects with his mind for the first time (leading to Nakari adorably dub him "a little noddle scooter"). It's a very sweet, if brief, relationship, and a respite from the danger of the mission. They spend the night together (leaving the reader to decide exactly what happened behind closed doors), and share a kiss before splitting up to try and escape bounty hunters. No prizes for guessing what happens to Nakari immediately after she received the Skywalker Kiss of Death.
I assume there were two motivating factors for why Hearne and/or LFL couldn't let Nakari live:
1. If she survived, fans would wonder why she doesn't appear in ESB/subsequent material.
I recall this bandied about on forums back at the time of the book's release, and to that I say - so what? Fans are always going to wonder, and try to paper over the gaps in canon, to make up their own headcanons to explain any any perceived inconsistencies. It's certainly no reason to kill someone off.
It is in fact possible for two young people to have a romance that just fizzles, or doesn’t work out for whatever reason - it should not require great maneuvering or explanation. If Nakari doesn’t show up in the next book in the timeline, what about it? The reader is smart enough to assume she and Luke broke up, decided to just remain friends, whatever. But it seems that the only way for a female character to exit stage left is for her to die, which is bullshit.
And actually, there's no reason why she couldn't have shown up again. ESB and RoTJ cover a month and a few days, respectively, of Luke's life - just because there was no mention of Nakari doesn't mean she didn't exist at that time, whether or not she and Luke were an item. She could have made an appearance in a subsequent novel, or Rebels, or the comics - she could have become a recurring character, showing up when the Rebellion needed her, or - heaven forbid - even have her own comic/book/show! Her existence in Star Wars canon didn't need to begin and end with Luke Skywalker, merely to service his plotline and backstory and abandoning the richness of her own.
No, the only reason Nakari had to die was to facilitate this:
It was a blow to the gut, realizing what that sudden absence meant. I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, but I had felt Nakari's life snuffed out through the Force, and into that void where she had shone anger rushed in - anger, and a cold sense of raw power and invincibility...I took a step to join in the hunt but stopped, breathing heavily, unaccountably sweating even though I felt so cold inside and the power of the Force roiled within me... I shook with emotion and power, and none of it felt the way the Force had before...I saw what kind of space it was , a black hole that would always be hungry no matter how much I fed it. I might never feel warm again if I didn't get myself under control.
Luke feels the dark side and is tempted by the boost of power it offers him, but immediately identifies it as dangerous and unnatural. I can understand why Hearne wanted to include this - it is a book of firsts after all: Luke's first solo mission, his first time using telekenisis, and ending with story with his first experience of the dark side makes sense. But it wasn't necessary, which leads to:
2. How to push Luke to touch the dark side without killing someone he has romantic feelings for?
Also, obviously, shite of the bull (or nerf, if you prefer). Even if this brush with the dark side was absolutely necessary for the novel's climax, there's any number of ways it could be achieved. At this point, Luke is fresh from losing important people in his life - Owen and Beru, Ben, and Biggs - lumping another death on top of that a narrative trick for Luke to react not only to losing Nakari, but the others as well. But it's cheap, the first card in the deck, and why not show a bit of imagination? Luke is young and inexperienced enough at this point that any number of things could be the catalyst - the whole book he's struggling with his growing powers, why not try and reach too far in the firefight with the bounty hunters, his anger and frustration with himself in not doing enough trigger the dark side temptation? It would work thematically and doesn't involve a fridging that ultimately has very little payoff.
Because Nakari is killed less than ten pages from the end of the book - afterwards Luke grieves, but ultimately chooses to honour her memory and be grateful for what he learned with her, recommitting to becoming a Jedi. It's all very surface level, and once again a female character's death facilitates a male character's development. Was it so imperative that Luke lost someone he cared about as part of this story? Sure, this was a time of galactic civil war, and it's far from unrealistic that these stories have a high body count, but who to make collateral damage remains an authorial choice, and in this case Nakari Kelen was (a) a female character of color, (b) a love interest of the protagonist - not just of this book, but the entire Original Trilogy.
I don't know to what extent (if any) race had to play in the decision. I'm sure there was a segment of the fandom absolutely livid that Luke Skywalker kissed (and maybe had sex with) a black woman. Was her death LFL hedging its bets, or demonstrative of the general lack of attention/respect they show their characters of colour?
In any case this was a chance to stand out from the old EU and it's fridge full of Luke's dead girlfriends, but instead they chose to introduce and kill off Nakari for the sole purpose of Luke's manpain and character development, and that's gross.
And then there's this:
A grisly yet reliable fact about custom bounty hunter ships is that you can always count on them to have body bags stashed somewhere for the easy transport of their kills. They often have built-in refrigerated storage, too.
NAKARI IS KILLED AND LITERALLY STORED IN THE FUCKING FRIDGE I COULDN'T BELIEVE WHAT I WAS READING.
I really hope this was unintentional on Hearne's part, because yikes. He was halfway there, this book was full of interesting female characters who had agency - Drusil in particular was a delight with her super math and inability to understand human interaction. Nakari was full of life and fun - capable but relatable, showing a different side of the Rebellion and those that suffered under the Empire's rule. Fridging her in her first appearance is considerably more vile, because it reduces her to a footnote of Luke's story, a plot device to Help Him Grow, rather than a springboard to tell more of her own story.
Because Nakari was a compelling character ripe for spinoff potential. I would absolutely have read or watched her continued adventures, juggling missions for her father's Biolabs company and trying to aid the Rebellion, shooting her slug rifle and cracking wise, maybe even finding a way to amplify her mother's song Vader's Many Prosthetic Parts to really stick it to the Empire, or try and free the political prisoners on Kessel.
The old EU was made great by allies and enemies of Our Heroes showing up again to help or hinder them, and/or branching out into their own material. We fell in love with them, and followed their stories even as they diverged from the main saga, eager to read more about their lives.
Nakari Kelen never got that chance. In many ways, she exemplified what Disney Star Wars was to become: an exercise in wasted potential.
#star wars#star wars meta#heir to the jedi#nakari kelen#luke skywalker#fridging#it's cold in that fridge#star wars expanded universe#nucanon
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On an Immensely Popular Post
Disclaimer: What I’m writing here may not be completely accurate -- like most works of art, literature, and even STEM tend to be -- and as a new fan of ATLA, a few of the metas I publish may be obsolete or unintentionally insensitive. That being said, I like to believe that I can contribute something valuable to this fandom. In all my (real) metas, I wish to be as objective as possible and not rely on my biases, fanon, or common “knowledge” that may just be misconceptions. If anyone reading this finds something to be false or contrived, I am always welcome to constructive criticism. What I am not welcome to is senseless hate or bashing.
My first experiences with the ATLA fandom begun a long, long time ago, but the most recent and powerful revival of my love for ATLA started with me actually watching the show and soon after, with me falling into the endless abyss of ATLA metas on Tumblr. Sifting through the well-written analyses and the emotion-based rants had taught me a lot about critical thinking and the power of influence, so now I’d like to present a meta that critiques an extremely popular post with over 60,000 notes. And since it’s so popular, this is the part where I must make yet another disclaimer.
Disclaimer: I hold nothing against lesbians4sokka (whose name has now been changed to comradekatara). They have the right to share what they want, but since this particular post has become so influential that it’s still being reblogged regularly to this day, I believe it is within my right to criticize it - emphasis on “criticize,” which is different from “hate.”
Now that that’s out of the way, let us begin:
Lesbians4sokka/comradekatara covers 3 main subjects in their post, which I will quote/summarize below:
(1) Ma/iko: “...the entire foundation of mai and zuko’s relationship was built on how miserable they were together, and how they would just sit there and hate the world together— letting their misery fester as they enabled each other’s depression— and I think that’s really unfortunate because they would work so well as friends if they weren’t trying to make their dumpster fire of a relationship work.”
(2) Zutara: “similarly, what makes zuko and katara’s dynamic so compelling is that they share the same flaws, only as opposed to mai’s apathy and misery, it’s katara’s rage and guilt that zuko identifies with. they both share trauma over having lost their mothers, and both in a similar way (sacrificing themselves for them) and they both cope with their grief through rage, often misplaced… katara and zuko have a deep & profound friendship, but if they were to be in a relationship, they would only bring out the absolute worst in each other thru enabling each other’s rage and emotion-driven decision making.”
(3) Z/uk/ka: this pairing makes for a healthy and wholesome relationship because throughout the boiling rock, we see that “sokka and zuko make an excellent team, as they balance each other perfectly. sokka thinks big picture, and plans ahead, but zuko will charge into situations.” They inspire each other, they trust each other unconditionally, they become more open and supportive of each other, they share a lot of common interests and narrative parallels, and in general, just make each other happy (which could work both platonically and romantically).
As for my response: I’m sure many of you are expecting me to start to save the “best for last.” That assumption would be incorrect because I actually have the least to say about point 3.
I agree that Z/uk/ka can be a good relationship. Their dynamic is funny, playful, supportive, etc. etc. (there are so many positive adjectives I could use to describe their dynamic, the list could go on forever). And they could make a great couple.
…
What, did you expect more from me? That’s it, I’m done.
I’m not here to attack Z/uk/ka as a ship, because while I can never actively ship it (I’m a sad, narrow-minded exclusive shipper, always had been and always will be) I can objectively appreciate them as one. It’s points 1 and 2 I’m more concerned about.
Now, since we’ve already begun working backward, I’ll begin my critiques on point 2: I could write extensively about the parallels between Zuko and Katara, including but not limited to shared pain and a few shared flaws - and just a few, because their weaknesses diverge in many important places. However, since I’m trying to write as objectively as possible and since Zuko-Katara parallels have already been discussed to death, my analysis will focus elsewhere.
However, something from comradekatara’s post that I would first like to address is this-
[Zuko and Katara] both cope with their grief through rage, often misplaced. in the southern raiders, they both act deeply insensitively towards sokka by acting as if his grief over his mother’s death is somehow less valid simply because he is a lot quieter in his coping mechanisms and doesn’t project his rage & guilt onto everyone else.
- or rather, the idea that Zuko and Katara’s shared pain causes them to act insensitively towards Sokka (and though the post does not mention it, Aang as well).
(Note: these points have already been covered by countless metas before mine, so you can skip/skim this section to read a newer argument in the next section.)
Even ignoring the fact that the Southern Raiders had many out of character moments, Katara’s insensitivity towards Sokka is first and foremost a reaction against his insensitivity towards her.
_____
Dialogue from Season 3, Episode 16 “The Southern Raiders”:
Aang: Um ... and what exactly do you think this will accomplish?
Katara: [Shakes her head in dismay.] Ugh, I knew you wouldn't understand. [Begins to walk away.]
Aang: Wait! Stop! I do understand. You're feeling unbelievable pain and rage. How do you think I felt about the sandbenders when they stole Appa? How do you think I felt about the Fire Nation when I found out what happened to my people?
Zuko: She needs this, Aang. This is about getting closure and justice.
Aang: I don't think so. I think it's about getting revenge.
Katara: [Angrily.] Fine, maybe it is! Maybe that's what I need! Maybe that's what he deserves!
Aang: Katara, you sound like Jet.
Katara: It's not the same! Jet attacked the innocent. This man, he's a monster.
Sokka: Katara, she was my mother, too, but I think Aang might be right.
Katara: Then you didn't love her the way I did!
Sokka: [Hurt] Katara!
_____
While I believe that Aang’s principles of forgiveness are morally sound, the way he pushes his beliefs onto Katara undermines much of her grief. At first, Aang tries to relate to Katara’s experiences by comparing them to his own, but there is a forceful connotation to his dialogue that suggests that Aang considers himself to be the moral authority compared to Katara. Hence, Aang judges Katara (“I think it’s about getting revenge”) without trying to reach out and understand her, forgoing the empathetic common ground in favor of taking on the moral high ground.
Thus, when Sokka tells Katara, “she was my mother, too, but I think Aang might be right,” Sokka is not only saying that Katara should choose forgiveness, he is implying that Aang is the ultimate moral authority on this matter and that Katara should accept that. Moreover, similarly to Aang, Sokka’s opening line, “she was my mother, too,” had the potential to establish common ground between himself and Katara, but the added “but…” places Sokka on the moral high ground against her instead. Of course, when we remember that just two lines ago Aang equates Katara to Jet, Sokka agreeing with Aang seems even more thoughtless and unsympathetic.
So when Katara lashes out against Sokka, ostensibly “acting as if his grief over his mother’s death is somehow less valid simply because he is a lot quieter in his coping mechanisms and doesn’t project his rage & guilt onto everyone else,” it is important to note that Sokka undermines Katara’s louder, more visible way of grieving as well (though that discounts that for most of the show, Katara only uses her grief over her mother’s death to sympathize with others).
Moreover, Katara’s line, “then you didn't love her the way I did!” is hurtful, yes, but it is not necessarily equivalent to “you didn’t love her as much as I did.” Katara’s love for her mother is different from Sokka’s because her pain over her death is different -- after Kya’s passing, Katara had to carry the emotional burden of becoming a pseudo-mother to Sokka (see Sokka and Toph’s conversation in “The Runaway”), a burden that did not cease after she joined the GAang (see the entirety of “The Desert”). To Katara, Kya was not only her mother, but the representation of the childhood she lost and the sacrifice made to protect her life. Sokka simply does not have that same relationship with Kya.
I do not mean to say that Sokka and Aang unfairly taking on the moral authority in this situation means that this authority instead belongs to Katara (and Zuko) - “The Southern Raiders” is filled with questionable moments from all parties involved. However, TSR is an episode that delves into Katara (and Zuko)’s relationship with a mother’s sacrifice, so how Zuko and Katara respond to this specific trauma from their past does not dictate how they respond to painful circumstances in the present/future. Let’s see how this is true.
Sozin’s Comet, Part 1: The Phoenix King
No doubt Zuko and Katara felt some form of frustration upon Aang’s disappearance, so let’s see how they “[enabled] each other’s rage and emotion-driven decision making”:
Here, Katara and Zuko make a decision together that turns out to be calm, rational, and not at all emotionally-driven despite their mutual frustration and worry towards Aang.
Sozin’s Comet, Part 2: The Old Masters
Zuko holds immense pain and self-loathing over betraying Iroh, yet Zuko and Katara’s conversation does not enable/exacerbate negativity from any party involved (since Zuko often translates his grief into anger, and Katara was evidently angry at Zuko’s betrayal). Instead, their conversation is open, encouraging, and constructive.
(Note: this is where the review of points made by previous metas ends.)
Hence, to say that “[Zuko and Katara] would only bring out the absolute worst in each other [through] enabling each other’s rage and emotion-driven decision making” - when we are given in-canon examples of the opposite being true - would be a sweeping and inaccurate generalization.
But for the sake of argument let’s say that, hypothetically, Zuko and Katara’s relationship would fail because they only bring out the worst in each other. And here’s where the argument falls apart for me - Is the argument here that Zuko and Katara have an incredibly meaningful friendship yet somehow this “friendship” causes them to enable each other, thus encouraging each other’s worst flaws and regressing each other’s growth? Is a healthy friendship - much less a “deep and profound” one - not one where two individuals can learn from each other in positive ways and balance each other’s shortcomings?
Or is it something different we’re saying here? Are we saying that two individuals can have a “deep and profound” friendship and yet the moment their relationship shifts from platonic to romantic, they are terrible for each other?
While many significant platonic bonds are stunted when they become romantic, I still believe it to be common sense that some of the best romantic relationships stem from a platonic foundation. But since much of “common sense” on the internet sees that “sense” is nonsensical and “common” is a nicer way to refer to mob mentality, I have done my research to show how Zuko and Katara could have been an excellent case of a friends-to-lovers relationship.
An excerpt from my meta, “Research Shows that Zutara Would Have Been the Ideal Friends to Lovers Dynamic.” (give it a read if you want to see references to relationship-research and an overanalysis on diction/tone)
The reason why Zutara is framed as a “toxic and unhealthy” relationship is that their romance would be a classic example of the enemies-to-lovers trope, a trope which modern media has not been particularly kind to. However, when executed correctly, enemies-to-lovers can produce a healthy and loving relationship, frequently relying on friendship as an intermediate between the “enemy” and “lover�� stages in the most well-executed versions of this trope. Meanwhile, the trope of friends-to-lovers is just as popular as enemies-to-lovers, though the specific dynamic required between two individuals to achieve this transition is not well-known. Recognizing this, Laura K. Guerrero and Paul A. Mongeau, both of whom are involved in relationship-related research as professors at Arizona State University, wrote a research paper on how friendships may transition into romantic relationships…
According to Guerrero and Mongeau, “...scholars have argued that intimacy is located in different types of interactions, ranging from sexual activity and physical contact to warm, cozy interactions that can occur between friends, family members, and lovers…” Guerrero and Mongeau then reference a relationship model where the initial stages (i.e. perceiving similarities, achieving rapport, and inducing self-disclosure) reflect platonic/romantic intimacy through communication while the latter stages (i.e. role-taking, achieving interpersonal role fit, and achieving dyadic crystallization) often see both individuals as achieving a higher level of intimacy that involves more self-awareness.
In the rest of my research-based meta I demonstrate how Zuko and Katara’s platonic interactions in the show fit into the stages of communicative intimacy (i.e. perceiving similarities, achieving rapport, and inducing self-disclosure) that Guerrero and Mongeau describe as being mutual between friendships and romances. As such, crossing the line between friends and more-than-friends most likely would not cause a dramatic shift in the Zutara dynamic since much of Zuko and Katara’s platonic intimacy easily translates into romantic intimacy. I’ll end off with another excerpt from my meta.
Excerpt from “Research Shows that Zutara Would Have Been the Ideal Friends to Lovers Dynamic.”
“...it would be remiss to simply dismiss the Zutara dynamic as one that would instantly become toxic should they pursue a romantic relationship.”
With that little thought in mind, let’s move onto point 3: an exploration of friendship, romance, and why toxicity is not exclusive to the latter.
Let’s start with what I agree with:
“The entire foundation of mai and zuko’s relationship was built on how miserable they were together, and how they would just sit there and hate the world together— letting their misery fester as they enabled each other’s depression...”
I’m not sure how necessary it is for me to elaborate on this point given that it’s already been accepted by comradekatara and perhaps 60,000+ other users on Tumblr (a gross exaggeration but this remains unimportant), but in her essay, “Zuko, Mai, and the Nature of True Intimacy,” Araeph contributes more nuance to the concept of Ma/iko and mutual misery, stating that,
Unfortunately for [Zuko and Mai’s] relationship, Mai is and will always be a pessimist—a character trait, not a character flaw, in her. The key difference lies in how Mai and Zuko use their negative feelings. When Zuko sinks into negativity, he gives up on any actions that will materially change his world for the better; Mai, on the other hand, can remain negative even at the height of her character development, and it does not impede her ability to act.
So while Mai enables Zuko’s depression, Zuko does not necessarily do the same for Mai. Nonetheless, throughout their relationship for the first half of season 3, neither of them communicate constructively or push each other to grow as people.
This may be the third disclaimer I’m making, but I first want to say I have nothing against Mai. However, I do have something against the idea that “[Mai and Zuko] would work so well as friends if they weren’t trying to make their dumpster fire of a relationship work.”
Their relationship is a dumpster fire, yes, but will the flames cease simply if the amount of intimacy in the relationship changes?
comradekatara state themselves that their entire romantic relationship is quite depressing - they are only able to connect through empty physical intimacy and mutual hatred of the world. Without that, there is little left for them to bond over. Once Zuko overcomes his conflicting morality and inaction from the first half of season 3, he becomes someone who is strongly guided by his principles and beliefs. However, for the entirety of the series, Mai is characterized by her moral apathy. To cite from Araeph again,
It is moral intimacy that is the last and worst omission for Mai and Zuko… Zuko’s struggle to find and follow his principles is the most central aspect of his character, yet it is a struggle Mai neither understands nor respects…
Lack of moral intimacy (not sharing the same core beliefs) is something that applies to both platonic and romantic bonds. Thus, just as transitioning from a meaningful friendship to a romance does not inherently create toxicity in a relationship, switching from a romance that exacerbates one (or both, depending on how you interpret it) party’s misery does not necessarily erase the preexisting negativity in a relationship - perhaps some of it may subside, sure, but as long both parties continue to fail at communicating and understanding each other, even their friendship seems bleak at best. In this case, Mai and Zuko may work well as conditional friends, or in other words, friends who are only friends when they have something to mutually be miserable over. And this tiptoes the line of speculation, but they could be a formidable political team. But unless the Ma/iko dynamic shifts drastically in the lovers-to-friends transition, I’m not sure if there’s much potential in a friendship between them.
In conclusion, there is a lot I don’t agree with from comradekatara’s post, but if there’s one takeaway I want to impart onto everyone who’s read this far, it’s this: crossing and uncrossing the line between platonic and romantic bonds is not always a transformative experience for the relationship, and the nature of human relationships is a complex spectrum -- not a light switch that can only be set between healthy and unhealthy.
Thank you all for reading!
#atla#atla meta#my bated breath analyzes#this is more pro-zukka than anti-zukka#but I will include neither in my tags#zutara#anti maiko#once again this is a critique#not a post meant to tear anyone or their views down#my bated breath's posts
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Who We Used To Be (Ray/Rose/Trevor)
As told by myself and @thesevenumbrellas tag teaming the whump in the 18+ JatP discord. Sev I swear we operate on the same braincell levels, we do be clowning. @bobbywilsonsupremacy let us know what you think of this! I know you and I both hardcore ship Raybse.
Cover was created by @thesevenumbrellas. Please don’t steal it.
This post got long so fair warning.
We wrote this in a discord server over the time span of hours so there’s some mistakes but i’m too lazy to go back and fix it all. Basically we tag teamed on a Raybse Trevor Wilson-centric whump story and can destroy a fandom with a single touch.
You’ll understand once you click the cut.
Don’t Steal Our Writing (but please reblog this to spread it around).
Trauma Time.
major whump warning
(Ren) Okay so if we're gonna be starting at 90's ot3 my children ray/bobby/Rose know that Ray is a panic bi and loves both of these humans very much with his whole ass heart.
(Ren) He takes pictures of his girlfriend and boyfriend while they’re on dates because he wants to capture the moments he was happy the most. Bobby always shed away from the camera burying his face in Rose's shoulder or leaning in for a kiss. Anyways as time goes by Ray notices Bobby's change in behavior. From being his go-happy-trauma boyf to being caught up in the music scene, often out at all hours to parties and label meetings only to come to to sleep on the couch, not even sharing the bed like he used to. It reminds Ray of the time when Bobby was grieving his boys. Ray hates it, but he loves bobby so he pushes his feelings aside to try and arrange more dates for the three of them to go on together.
(Sev) Ray waking up to only Rose in the bed and not Bobby, and it feels too cold in bed without him. So he'll try to call him, because it's 3am and he's supposed to be home and he's not. And Ray remembers what happened to Bobby's bandmates, and he can't admit it out loud but he's worried. Because what if that happens to Bobby? He knows it was a freak accident! What are the odds of it happening again?? But he can't shake that feeling when Bobby doesn't come home at night and Ray stays up all night worrying. Anyway he tries to call Bobby and Bobby doesn't answer. He'll leave loads of voicemails, trying not to be pushy because he knows Bobby doesn't respond well to that. But he's worried. He'll say "hey please call me when you get this." and then ten minutes later try again "hey just text me that you're safe okay?" He can't sleep because Bobby still isn't home. It's 5am. He has to go to work in two hours. Rose keeps telling him to go to bed but he can't.[2:58 PM]Bobby finally texts back. "I'm okay! Was playing with some friends, the gig went over time and then we went to party." Ray wants to be angry because seriously? No phone calls because he was at a party? But he knows that'll just push Bobby away more!
(Ren) And so Ray has all of these festering emotions that boil down to worry and concern at the core but he's just so scared hes losing Bobby cause he never really had his own family to begin with and then one day when Ray comes home early from a photoshoot he can hear Bobby and Rose fighting over Bobby signing the contract that says he wrote Luke's songs but Ray just hears yelling before he even opens the door with his name thrown into the mix and then he gets even more scared because what if he loses Rose and Bobby? if he lost both of them he'd be destroyed. So he doesnt knock. He doesnt go home. Instead he walks around the city until he was supposed to go home originally and he opens the door and there's a sort of eerie silence in the air.
(Sev) Trevor’s unable to shake the feeling that something terrible will happen to Rose and Ray because he's with them. His entire family were killed in 1 night because he wasn't there with them. So at first he's clingy as fuck to Rose and Ray because what if something bad happens when he's not there? What if what if what if... But as time goes on the thinking flips. Maybe it's the music industry that's the problem. It's these weird connections in his head of if he's too successful, bad things might happen. But he can't quit music like that, he can't give up on Luke's dream. He owes his boys to become successful. So instead he distances himself from Rose and Ray. That way they won't be caught up in whatever bad thing is going to happen to him. He distances himself and he waits for it all to drop. He waits for the universe to punish him again.
(Ren) And the universe punishes Bobby when the tension between him and Rose tightens so much he knows there's no going back from it but he's not admitting to stealing the songs because he didn't. He helped Luke write all of the songs more than Alex and Reggie ever did, staying up late with Luke after fights with his mom and Bobby didn’t want Luke to be alone so yeah, he wrote the songs. Maybe not as much as he claimed but he sure as hell made sure his brother wasn’t alone so that counted for something right? And it did. Until Rose kicks him out of bed because she's pissed he'd even consider stealing music and he cant tell Ray because of the NDA the label got him to sign at a party when he was drunk and the only reason Rose knows about it is because she was there when he signed the damn thing and so Bobby pulls away from Ray because isnt it going to be easier in the long run? If he doesn’t attach himself to Ray who'll just get angry at him like Rose did?
(Sev) It's the guilt that grows inside of him every passing day. They're my songs too he tells himself over and over again. But during the dark nights, three glasses of whisky in when the world is getting hazy... even he can't believe the lies he tells himself. He fucked up Sunset Curve. He fucked up his friends' memories. And now he fucked up the only good thing he'd ever had. Ray texts him nonstop. He doesn't understand why Rose kicked Bobby out and he doesn't understand why Bobby listened. Bobby can't take Ray away from Rose. He's fucked up and a terrible person, but even he can't do that. He doesn't give Ray his new address. He refuses to meet up even for Ray to give him his stuff back. All Bobby can do is hold onto Ray's sweatshirt he stole away and a bottle of perfume the same brand Rose always wears. He cradles these things in his arms and cries.
(Ren) And that's the last he sees of Ray for all of 5 years, 20yr old puppy-dog eyed loving precious ray who Bobby would run to the second Rose says its okay. But rose never does. And then Bobby meets a cute blonde and six months later the barista shows up on his doorstep shoving Carrie into his arms calling her a bastard child. Carrie is not a bastard child Carrie is his and he loves her the second he sets eyes on her and so Bobby turns into Trevor when the new year rolls around and he starts his own album. It doesn’t do as well as Luke's his first album did but it was his. And then one day Trevor signs Carrie up for dance because Trisha from first grade made fun of her for not being able to do the splits and on the way out of the dance studio Trevor bumps into Ray, a terrified looking girl clutched to his leg. Carrie doesn't miss a beat. "Hi! I'm Carrie let's be friends!" and Carrie drags Ray's daughter off and Trevor shifts awkwardly and is suddenly 17 again but Ray's eyes still twinkle like the did when they were kids and he's still wearing eyeliner so Trevor almost missed it when a flicker of recognition crosses Ray’s face and a smile quirks at the corners of his lips and he says, "hi im Ray, thats my daughter Julie. Wanna go out for a drink?" With that same mischievous glint in his eye that made Bobby fall in love with him in the first place.
(Sev) Trevor almost stops breathing. He should say no. He knows he should say no. He's an awful person. He doesn't deserve someone like Ray. He never deserved either of them. He knows that. But can't force himself to say no. Maybe it's the twinkle in Ray's eyes. Maybe it's the soul crushing loneliness he's felt ever since he left them. Or maybe it's the way Carrie and Julie are giggling in the corner like they've known each other all their lives. He says yes. The drink ends up at a family friendly restaurant with both the girls in tow.
(Ren) Rose shows up because Ray the asshole apparently texted her while he was in the car saying he met one of Julie's friend's parents and wanted to go out on a date (keeping things pg ofc) aklsdf. And when Rose does show up Trevor sees how... sick she looks. How much paler she looked than she did all those years ago how - he still knew he loved her even if she still decided she hated him.
(Sev) The mood drops quickly. Trevor wants to ask about Rose, but not in front of the kids. Ray wants to ask about their past, but not in front of the kids. Rose... Rose who holds all the answers... doesn't know where to start first. She had never regretted not telling Ray the truth. She never wanted to change Ray's perception of Bobby like that. Ray who looked at their boyfriend as if he'd hung the moon. Ray who stayed up worrying all night until Bobby came home. Ray who held Bobby through countless nightmares... But that makes the truth staring them in the face so much harder. Because she never gave Ray the choice. She realized that a few years too late after she catches Ray staring at old pictures of Bobby in their photo albums. She'd made the choice for him. And then there's Trevor... still beautiful, staring at her with so much concern her heart breaks all over again.
(Ren) The tension doesn't fly over Carrie's head like he hoped it would, she talks to Julie about My Little Pony and Pokemon and High School Musical and their mutual hatred for Trisha from school but Carrie's hand never lets go of his and he finally plucks up the courage and stretches his arm out and says "we're vegetarian for the most part, hope that's okay." And a smile quirks at the corner of her lips and she asks "for the most part?" and Trevor nods and Carrie pipes up from her seat saying "daddy hates hot dogs,” in that blatant fact kind of way kids say things without realizing how problematic it could be. It wasn’t her fault though, Trevor has yet to tell her about her uncles, about how he was in a band, about how they were going to be legends.
(Sev) Rose and Ray both freeze at Carrie's voice. He doesn't know if the girls notice, because he's too busy trying to fight back the panic in his throat. It's been a long time since anyone had brought up ... what happened. It's easy to pretend it didn't happen when his name is Trevor and no one knows him. But these two people know him. They know him more than anyone else ever has. Even the boys. The truth hits him hard at that moment. A truth he'd been avoiding for almost two decades. Ray and Rose know him better than even he knew himself. Maybe that was why Rose had been so furious with him, or why Ray continued to chase after him even months after he moved out. Trevor hides the building panic and sudden realization with a smile. "What an I say," he said as causally as he can. "I'm a picky eater." A few hours later they end up back at the Molina's house. Bobby has no idea how it happened. -No, Trevor has no idea how it happened, he scolds himself. He's Trevor. He has to be Trevor. Trevor got him this far, Trevor made the difficult choices. Bobby was the one who got his friends kill and destroyed the best relationship he ever had. Still, it becomes harder and harder to remind himself of that. To stop himself from slipping into the comfortable shoes of Bobby, boyfriend of Ray and Rose as if the past 17 years had never happened. He finds himself on their sofa, a sofa that brings back memories both good and bad... he finds himself in a familiar home, his old studio just a short walk away, his ex's giggling in the kitchen as they make his coffee the way he's always liked it without asking for a reminder.
(Ren) Trevor can remember the day he stopped drinking the coffee Ray made for him, the morning after his first fight with Rose, when he wakes up cold because Rose basically cocooned herself around Ray's body, keeping her back turned to him and as much as he wanted to reach out to Ray, to hug him and comfort him and tell him it was all going to be okay... everything was too stuffy and too tense and deciding he just had to leave because he was going to suffocate otherwise.
(Sev) He should leave, just like last time. What was he even doing here? He should take Carrie and- Then Ray's in front of him, pushing a hot cup into is hands. "The girls are playing upstairs," he says. His voice is so calm, so understanding. "We don't have to talk if you don't want to." Trevor almost laughs. Because that's so like Ray. Almost a decade without answers and he's giving Trevor the option to ignore it all. To pretend like nothing ever happened. But he can't be that selfish again. So he shakes his head. "I'd... like to talk to you... to both of you."
(Ren) And then suddenly rose is eyeing him sus but he's been putting this off for to long and honestly fuck his label because they screwed him over one too many times for him to still even consider their relationship anything other than employee-client1[4:06 PM]and so Trevor takes a sip of Ray's coffee holy shit how did go so long without it?! and he explains it. he explains everything.
(Sev) Ray doesn't speak as Trevor explains. He never interrupts or even look surprised. His face is completely unreadable. He doesn't move until Trevor's done. And then once he is, he only stands up to start pacing the room. Trevor's oddly reminded of Alex as he does so, and the memory is enough to make him flinch. "This... this is what you two have been hiding from me for so long?" he asked, voice brittle. "This is... this is what cost us... I mean..." But he can't finish. Ray just shakes his head, back to both Rose and Trevor.
(Ren) Suddenly he's seventeen again. Seventeen and a mess in Ray's arms burying his face into the man's chest finally feeling the weight of the world lift off of his shoulders and suddenly Rose is hugging him from behind, her too-skiny bone arms snaking around his chest and hugging him tightly threatening to never let him go saying "amour," and pressing a kiss to the back of his head, "amour we never stopped loving you."
(Sev)It's like no time has passed by the time he's done crying his eyes out. They're all huddled on a sofa that was always too small for three. Trevor's in the middle, clutching at them both as if they're going to disappear on him. Ray sits with his legs underneath them, his arms pulling the both of them into his chest. And then there's Rose, suddenly so much more delicate than Trevor remembers. She sits half on his lap, curled into them, her fingers knotted in his hair. "I can't believe you two kept this from me," Ray whispers. There's no anger. He doesn't think Ray's ever been capable of being angry. "I'm sorry," Trevor whispers, throat raw from tears. Ray answers with a firm kiss to his temple. "We wasted so much time..."
(Ren) Trevor just lays between them in their bed, nothing sexual and nothing tense it’s just them being together and Rose playing with his now-long hair, braiding it right down the middle despite it being too long for others to braid. Her fingers feel nice as they tug at his roots, familiar and a sense of calm washes over him. He lets ray fop on top of him like they used to, burying his head in his chest just listening to his heart beat, his steady constant breathing because Ray used to be afraid one day he'd wake up and Bobby would be dead too. Rose humming lightly, soft lullabies that chased away dark thoughts and Trevor just finds it so comforting, a feeling of home he hasn't had since the day he left and so he wraps his arms around Rose and Ray tight, promising himself he won't screw up his second time around.
(Sev) It's a few hours later when he speaks again. The girls are asleep in Julie's room (delighted at their surprise sleepover.) Ray's almost nodded off, head resting against Trevor's chest. But Rose is wide awake. She's laid out, tangled between them, eyes focused on something far away. He can see it more clearly now. The tremble in her hands, the way she's so still, the circles around her eyes. He takes her hand in his. "What is it?"
(Ren) And Trevor wants it to be a prank, he wants the sinking feeling in his gut twisting around his heart, the same feeling he had the morning of Sunset Curve's Orpheum performance coiling up his spine to go away. He wants everything to be okay, that he told the truth, that he was forgiven, that the universe was finally on his side for once but of course it's not because when has it ever been. Rose's fingers run lightly over his knuckles and Ray wraps his arm around him from behind, his hands resting against Trevor's chest, something solid for him to focus on and as a tear starts to roll down Rose's cheek he reaches up to brush it away, running his hand through her hair only to pull out a clump as he pulled away but he couldn't run when his instincts to run kick in like they always used to do when situations turned emotional, bury it in his mind and lock up his worries like he always did but this wasn't going to be something he could run from.
(Sev) Life is not the fantasy or a fairy tale. There are no happy endings, only happy moments. He'd like to say they picked up right where they left off, Rose lived until a ripe old age, and they never fought again. But he'd be lying. It was hard to fold their lives back into place again, especially with Carrie and Julie. To just pick up after their seventeen year old selves was an impossible dream. But they could do breakfast. And breakfast became dinner. Dinner became one date which became two which became many. It took trouble and care, but they slotted themselves back into each other's lives again. There were lunch dates, and movie nights. There were late night wine dates and early morning coffee dates. They found their happy moments. A decade of separation had smoothed out the rough edges. If Trevor stormed out after a harsh argument, he'd return the next day with flowers and apologies. If Rose snapped and lost her temper, she'd take herself off for a walk to cool down. If Ray was bothered by something, he'd speak up instead of pushing it all down. They found their happy moments. And when 1 month became 1 year, they celebrated with moving boxes and a new, bigger couch. When 1 year became 2, they celebrated with promise rings and whispers of a better future between light kisses. 3 years became 4, became 5, and so on... They found their happy moments. But life is not a fantasy or a fairy tale. Their story ends in a hospital. Rose dies with both her husbands at her side, with both her daughters and son clutching on her hands. She dies with a smile on her face, knowing she is not leaving them to suffer alone. Ray and Trevor grieve together.
(Ren) And this time the girls are the ones who get into the fight but Trevor and Ray are there for Julie and Carrie no matter what they're fighting over carrie told julie she liked flynn but julie said flynn was hers first and doesnt understand how she can feel squishy love for two people. And this time the girls are the ones who get into the fight but Trevor and Ray are there for Julie and Carrie no matter what they're fighting over carrie told julie she liked flynn but julie said flynn was hers first and doesnt understand how she can feel squishy love for two people. They stick to their daughters through the worst of it but they don’t let the girl’s fighting rip into them too. It’s not what Rose would’ve wanted for them, it’s not what she would’ve wanted for Julie or Carrie either.
(Sev) And when Julie plays with her ghost band, it's much earlier that Trevor recognizes who she's playing with.
(Ren) Luke’s mad at first, ofc he is but after everything is explained and out in the open Trevor finds himself at home in a building that never felt like home despite the fact he grew up in it.
#trevor wilson#raybse#ray/rose/bobby#ray molina#rose molina#fanfiction#headcanons#whump#angst#18+ jatp discord#we do be whumping today#sev and i are clowns and had too much freetime today#i hope you all liked this slice of whump#bobby whump#ren write's#sev's writing#this is so chaotic#i love it#sev i love you#i broke your rule#oh well#julie molina#carrie wilson#ren rambles#look#i'm so bored right now#i needed to do this#ren has no regrets#neither does sev#we do be going after alex tomorrow
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Volume 1, Chapter 10-Separate Paths
Content warnings: n/a
At night, the two brothers lay in bed with a lit candle by the bedside, chatting face to face.
For the most part, it was Shen Zhen who did the speaking. He talked about the anecdotes and odd happenings of officialdom as well as which new friends he had made recently and what kinds of natures they all had. His expression was animated as he spoke and his words could not be stopped in the slightest.
Shen Qingxuan listened for a moment before he shook his head faintly. He knew that his time in officialdom was still short and that he had not yet experienced those petty schemes, so his spirits were high and full of expectations. What will happen in the future was not yet evident.
In the end though, he was his very own younger brother. After a minute’s hesitation, Shen Qingxuan ended up pouring a basin of cold water on his brimming, enthusiastic heart. You need to be prudent in all things. Before you have distinguished their faction, do not make friends carelessly. Even if you have gotten to know them, keep a distance. It is not too late to wait until later, once you are sure you can associate with them, to treat them sincerely.
Shen Zhen was a little taken aback. After he recovered, although he did not say anything, he was no longer as spirited as before. He merely nodded and agreed.
-
Shen Qingxuan realized that he was overly blunt with his words. It was not entirely impossible for Shen Zhen to be aware of all these reasonings, but to have it said so candidly made it hard for Shen Zhen to accept emotionally at the moment.
With a sigh, he reached out to stroke his little brother’s head and continued to say, Father’s wealth is great and his influence is broad so I know you do not have worries from that end. But you must think about it. The greater the wealth and influence of the Shen family, the larger we are as a target to rope in for conspiracies within the official circles. You have just entered this space, so your experience is still short and without any roots. If you do not act carefully and join the wrong faction, it will be very difficult for you to turn things around again. Not to mention, if that happens the Shen family wealth may not be able to help; instead, our family might lose everything and become ruined or dead!
The last sentence, after some hesitation by Shen Qingxuan, was nevertheless said out loud. Under the blankets, Shen Zhen’s body shivered once.
“Gege, I know.” Shen Zhen was silent for a long time before he slowly said, “This time I have come up to say goodbye to you.”
-
This time it was Shen Qingxuan’s turn to be taken aback. Shen Zhen took a glance at him, and then lowered his eyes, saying softly, “It is precisely because I understand these things, so I requested to be transferred to the south and take office at Ningyuan County’s government office. The official documents have already been sent down. I set out at the end of this month. This parting will be as lengthy as the mountains are high and the rivers are long, I do not know when I can return……”
Shen Qingxuan furrowed his brows as he tried to recall where Ningyuan County was located. After thinking for a long time, he remembered that Ningyuan County was a small county seat in an extremely remote part of the south, situated in a hot and humid climate where the folks were fierce, and brigands and bandits ran wild. The people there were all called southern barbarians.
Shen Qingxuan’s brows did not unfurrow until after a very long time. He replied, Going there is good too. If you stay in the capital with this temper of yours, you will never know when you might offend someone. Go there to sharpen yourself. Once you return, gege will set a dinner to welcome you back.
Shen Zhen smiled and reached out his arm to hook his older brother’s neck, burying his head into it and saying softly, “I knew you were going to say this.” After a pause, he continued, “Although that place is a bit more challenging, it is a good place to build foundations for my career goals. Gege need not worry about me. A couple of bandits and brigands are not enough to defeat me. Moreover, diedie has a shop there, so there is no need to worry about clothes and food either……Ten years at most, and I will return.”
Shen Qingxuan was silent as he nodded his head.
This was their first time parting as two brothers who had grown up together from childhood. Although they were distanced by some years of age and were polar opposites, nothing could erase their mutual affection made of blood thicker than water. This greatly saddened both of them.
And after who knows how long, Shen Zhen finally said something. “Gege, I know your health is not good. But you must promise to at least wait until I return.”
Shen Qingxuan was stunned again. When it dawned on him, he could not help but feel grieved. He nodded and promised at once. Of course I will wait for you to come back. Rest assured, I still have not seen you get married and establish yourself, and then shoulder the responsibility of bringing honor to and continuing the Shen family legacy. How could I let go and leave?
Shen Zhen finally laughed, “Wait for me to marry and have a son. I will definitely have two kids and give one to you for sure.”
Shen Qingxuan laughed as well. To this day, he still had not taken a fancy to any girl, so who knows when this hollow promise will be fulfilled. Then he thought that it was not necessarily true that he will not be able to marry and have children. If it was just a matter of carrying on the family line, then it was quite simple. But at the same time this thought appeared in his mind, Yi Mo’s face abruptly popped up at the worst moment, startling him into suppressing and keeping his restless thoughts down all at once.
I must not think about it again. I dare not think.
-
The two brothers affectionately spoke a good deal of words again. For a time, Shen Qingxuan was unsure if he should tell him about the matter of regaining his ability to speak, including the matter of knowing the serpent as well, to save his younger brother the trouble of worrying about whether he was alive or dead while he was away from home.
But on second thought, he abandoned this idea.
Although he could speak now, he did not know how long this state could last, let alone what kinds of mishaps might occur in the future. He had already experienced the ups and downs of life. Before determining the final outcome, there was no need to make his family worry with him.
What’s more, the future of him and Yi Mo was quite complicated. Neither of them could promise each other anything.
Besides, vows were empty and tedious by nature. Who would believe them?
-
In the later half of the night, Shen Zhen had fallen fast asleep, appearing docile as he nestled next to his brother, just like when they were kids. No matter how feral or unruly, he was always clever yet sensible in front of his elder brother, putting on a submissive appearance. It seemed as if there were an invisible pair of divine hands that had arranged everything.
Shen Qingxuan smoothed his brow, lost in thought as he looked at him. Even from a young age, there have been people who have pointed out that these eyes were the most similar feature between them, as they had both inherited their father’s eyes.
Their least similar feature was also these eyes.
While Shen Zhen’s eyes were still full of youthful energy and innocence, Shen Qingxuan already possessed a pair of gloomy and exhausted eyes.
Shen Qingxuan sighed without a sound, tucked in their blankets, and in a daze, gradually fell asleep as well.
-
The next few days were a continuous rush since Shen Zhen needed to hurry on and take up his new post. The entire household was busy running around, not even Shen Qingxuan could decline and had to go down the mountain as well.
Since they were short on hands, Shen Qingxuan sent his own serving boy over to help out. He himself was unable to help, so he sat quietly in a shaded nook.
Shen Zhen busied himself with saying goodbye to his friends and going in and out of taverns and restaurants. When he came home, he also could not rest, and was instead pulled away by Master Shen to bid farewell to his elderly relatives one by one.
Shen Zhen would come find Shen Qingxuan in his free time to relay his hardships, remarking that he did not realize leaving would be this tiring. Naturally, Shen Qingxuan would say something to appease him and follow up by pushing him to another banquet.
Soon, after everything was sorted out, Shen Zhen went on his way.
Shen Qingxuan had also returned to the mountains, settling back into his quiet days. He would count the sunrise and sunset as he listened to the sound of wind blowing through the tree leaves.
-
Ever since they parted after the hot spring, Yi Mo had not shown up again.
He was not sure what Yi Mo was busy with, or maybe Yi Mo did not want to see him again at all. Every time Shen Qingxuan thought about this, he could not contain his scoff. So what if you do not want to meet. At most, you can hide until next year’s trial, and then you will have to come find me anyways.
But then he thought, What kind of person is Yi Mo? Did he even need to hide from a cripple like him who could not even truss a chicken? He probably did not wish to come.
Was it that he did not wish to come, or was it because he shunned him for being a cripple with dubious intentions? The latter was not impossible, Shen Qingxuan kept thinking, I fear that this yao has lived for millennia and has never encountered such a dishonest and shameless matter. Immediately, this idea was overturned by him. This was a yao who had lived for millennia; what kinds of things had he not seen? It was possible he had already seen all the affairs of the human world, and it was simply only because Yi Mo looked down on him and did not wish to see him.
Shen Qingxuan sat by himself in his room, the thoughts in his head spinning fast, but he was unable to make sense of any of them. Instead, the messier his thoughts became, the more depressed his heart felt.
It was like there was something blocking his chest, he only wanted to howl hysterically, and trash and break some things to feel relief.
Perhaps it was because he had just experienced a period of excitement, he could no longer guard this loneliness as calmly and composedly as he did before.
Sensing his own dangerous mood, Shen Qingxuan felt even more stifled. He really had no outlet to vent, so he simply picked up a stack of strange fox and ghost stories that he had collected previously to read. Except, as soon as he read a page, he wanted to rip out a page. He wanted nothing more than to rip all these things that falsely seduced people’s hearts into fine powder.
What fox girl would receive a good marriage when repaying a kind act? What love-struck fool would receive a marriage alliance after watering a flower spirit……all of it was entirely ridiculous and delusional.
Did the people who wrote these novels not know that “humans and yao walked separate paths,” huh?!
––Humans and yao walked separate paths.
Shen Qingxuan narrowed his eyes, chewing on these six words with gnashed teeth. Turning them over repeatedly again and again, soundlessly biting them out, then swallowing them down again and again. He was angered without reason and his hatred was drawn out even more.
Those words flashed across his mind again, “separate paths that converge to the same end,” but then he did not dare to continue the thought again.
They were a human and a yao, plus they were both men, so this convergence could not bring about the “same” romantic affairs mentioned in stories.
At most, they would be an excuse for others to gossip and add more topics for people to talk about after meals.
Once he internalized this point, Shen Qingxuan’s unwarranted anger skyrocketed even higher.
-
“Did those novels provoke you?”
Shen Qingxuan whipped his head up only to see Yi Mo standing next to the candle, half of his face hidden behind his messy long hair, the other half shown in the swaying shadow of the candlelight, and a pair of light-as-water eyes staring fixedly at him. His eyes were extraordinarily tranquil through and through.
Shen Qingxuan’s hand trembled once, then those white as snow scraps fell messily and scattered all over the ground.
The originally chaotic thoughts in his head seemed to follow these scraps as they fell to the ground and sank into the background as well. It was suddenly peaceful.
He was neither worried nor panicked, neither happy nor concerned.
He just unhurriedly lifted his head and gazed at the other man’s tranquil eyes. He vaguely thought that they had been like this for thousands of years, as if they were a secret place that had existed since antiquity where no one had visited.
“Yi Mo.”
Shen Qingxuan heard his own voice sound out in this still world and ask word by word with incomparable earnestness:
“Shall our separate paths converge into one?”
Would that be okay?
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FREE KURT: Mercedes Style
For the “Free Kurt” story collection organized by @elledelajoie Work also posted to AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25655086
She stood at the top of the ornate winding staircase at Dalton Academy, flanked by Rachel Berry and Santana Lopez, grinning like a little girl at a parade as she watched Kurt wind through the enormous crowd of friends that Blaine had gathered together to witness the culmination of their love story. A perfect circle moment back to the day they had first met on this very staircase.
Mercedes sighed wistfully. She couldn’t imagine Sam or Shane ever doing something this big and romantic to woo her. Kurt was so lucky.
Music swelled around them from the huge choir of voices filling the lobby. Students from McKinley, Dalton, Haverbrook, and even a few from Carmel, blending into a heavenly host of perfect harmony as they serenaded the happy couple. Dancing and smiling, many singers reaching out to touch Kurt in passing, as if the contact would confer a percentage of his good fortune on them.
As Kurt slowly climbed the steps, Blaine approached, unmissable by anyone in the eye-popping, bright yellow suit he had chosen. He was finishing the final verse of his chosen song as he opened a small box and held it out expectantly. Mercedes caught her breath as he began the proposal that he had prepared. Wouldn’t any girl, real or honorary, swoon at such a show, overcome by the opulence and romance of it all?
Moving to the landing where she could have a better view of her best friend’s face, Mercedes smile faltered. For Kurt did not exactly appear to be overwhelmed with joy. He seemed overwhelmed all right, but not in the good way. He looked like he had walked into a party, opened a door, and found himself trapped inside a horror movie. His face was frozen in a stiff lipped smile that looked more panicked than proud.
She watched his eyes quickly dart around the room, glancing from face to face as if searching for something, before settling back on Blaine. And now that she really looked at them both, didn’t Blaine’s smile seem a little too smug? As if he had no doubt at all that he had come up with something too impressive to turn down.
But Kurt didn’t look at all like she would have expected on such an occasion. He wasn’t clasping his hands and bouncing on his toes in a giddy display of excitement. His eyes were not squinching up in that cute crinkly way they did when he was delighted. He wasn’t tearing up with emotion the way he did at beautiful romantic scenes in movies. And he was not looking at Blaine the way one would expect a person to look at their Prince Charming when he popped the big question. As if no one in world existed except for the two of them, crowd be damned.
On the contrary. Mercedes had last seen this look on his face the night her brother - an aspiring gourmet - had proudly presented Kurt with a plate of creamed beef and Brussels sprouts seasoned with candied bacon. Like he was trying his best to look impressed and appreciative so as not to hurt the other person’s feelings, when actually he was trying not to vomit.
Glancing through the crowd, Mercedes looked for support. Did anyone else see what she was seeing?
Rachel was starry-eyed with delight, practically cooing at every word Blaine spoke. Santana was smiling almost proudly. Kurt’s dad was beaming happily enough. Carole and Finn were . . . strangely absent from the party. Kurt’s friends were . . . well, all of his closest friends were up here, out of his line of sight. Most of the rest seemed to be Blaine’s friends, or mutual friends from their shared high school life. The crowd below did not include a single friend from New York. Hadn’t Kurt said he’d joined a show choir out there? And what about that Vogue lady he was always gushing about? She had certainly sounded like the kind of person who would love to be part of an event like this. Surely if Blaine had invited everyone they knew in Ohio, he would have thought to ask people from Kurt’s new life too. He would want this to be special and memorable for both of them.
Wouldn’t he?
Mercedes frowned as she suddenly remembered the guy in New York. A new boyfriend that Kurt had posted about on his Facebook page. Someone he had seemed to be really into just a week or two ago, and who had evidently been just as much into him. Why did she not know when or how the two of them had broken up? Had Kurt been cheated on again, and come back to Blaine as a rebound? It would be like him not to advertise if that were the case. Especially with how few people had supported him the last time. When Blaine had cheated.
A cold feeling passed through Mercedes, dispelling the last of her previous romantic haze.
Had Kurt and his new beau simply drifted apart and Kurt had turned back to the familiarity of his old life, to someone familiar? Whatever the reason, it couldn’t have happened more than ten days ago.
Guilt suffused her as she realized that she had been paying so little attention to her supposed ‘best friend’ over the months since he had moved away that she wasn’t even sure of the NYADA guy’s name. Alex? Andrew? Definitely something with an ‘A’. Well, whatever his name was, wasn’t it a bit soon to be back with his ex after breaking up with the guy? Never mind getting engaged.
She looked at Rachel Berry again, recalling the disastrous near marriage of Rachel and Finn. Too much, too soon, too young, too impulsive. They had taken a few steps down the runway of life and fallen on their faces.
Was Kurt any more ready for such a big step? He was a lot more mature than Finn, sure - Where the hell was Finn? The boy should be here for his brother’s big day! - but he was still barely 19 years old, and still in his first year of college. And Blaine was younger even than that.
Kurt was the one who had always had glittering dreams of moving to the big city, going to college and earning a B.A. and possibly an eventual Master’s Degree in Performing Arts, followed by a brilliant career on stage and screen. He was the boy who had outlined his steps for achieving those dreams in painstaking (one might say obsessive) detail, using graphs, charts, white boards, sketches, spreadsheets, and anything else he could think of. She had always teased him about being as OCD as Miss Pillsbury, but secretly she had admired his drive and determination, his surety that he was good enough and worthy enough to one day achieve all of his dreams.
Somehow all of that had started to fade when he became Blaine’s boyfriend and Rachel’s bestie.
Mercedes had learned to like Rachel well enough over the years, but the girl did have a way of taking over other people’s plans and replacing them with her own, hammering away at them until they started to believe that they had wanted whatever she wanted all along. Had Kurt been so affected by living with Rachel that he had lost sight of his self esteem and personal plans for the future? Had Blaine only reinforced that? Sometimes those two were so much alike that Mercedes was tempted to sneak a DNA sample and find out if they were twins who had been separated at birth!
One of the things that had first drawn her to Kurt was his flat-out refusal to let the people who were out to push him down and squash his ambition win. His native courage and endless passion, daring to dream of a bright future no matter what anyone said, had lit a fire under her own. He had been there for her every time she needed a friend. And when he had mis-stepped or taken the wrong road in their journey together, he had always been quick to apologize and genuine in making amends for any hurt he had caused her.
And how had she repaid that giving spirit? By repeatedly trying to push him down the path that she wanted to follow, dismissing his own concerns as trivial because she knew what was best.
She had insisted that Kurt take his grieving heart to her church when his father was sick, that he follow her path to comfort, never once thinking that he might not be receiving any comfort himself. It was her own mother who, afterward, had pointed out that Kurt might have been too afraid of losing his best friend to say no. Mama had scolded her thoroughly for being so concerned with Kurt’s soul that she had never considered his mental and physical needs, never asked if Kurt wanted to stay over, or offered to have the Jones’s look after him while his only family was unavailable, or even just sat him down and let him talk, cry, or share the solace of an unbending embrace to keep him together when his world was falling apart.
Instead she had forced him to walk her path and then patted herself on the back for a job well done and walked away.
The following year, she had all but stopped talking to Kurt when he went away for those six months at Dalton. A coffee date or meal out with other friends once every couple of months did not begin to compare with their former joined-at-the-hip habits. She had actually resented him on some level for making his escape and leaving her behind. And it still made her burn with shame that she had never even noticed he was being bullied that badly in the first place.
When Kurt came back to McKinley, things had been good for a while. More like the old days. But she had not liked his new friendship with Rachel, or having his boyfriend around all the time once Blaine transferred, feeling as if she had been replaced. When she had decided to form the Trouble Tones, Kurt had not given her grief or displayed any resentment over not being invited to go with her. He was the only guy in New Directions to get even less solo attention than she did, but she had lumped him in with all the others and turned her back. Where had her best friend loyalty, honorary girl solidarity to Kurt been then?
All of these thoughts flashed through Mercedes’ brain while Blaine spoke the last few words of his proposal.
It hit her like lightning as Kurt drew in a deep breath to reply. Kurt had told her, Santana, and Rachel that he believed this moment was going to happen before he went home. Not ‘back to school’ or ‘back to New York’. Home. Ohio was not home to him any longer, and Blaine - the same Blaine who had wasted almost no time in casually cheating on Kurt once he left town and then somehow got the entire glee club to sympathize with him over doing so, blaming Kurt for his own betrayal - was trying to drag Kurt back into the past by disguising it as a bright and shiny future full of love and devotion. Blaine would not stand by his promises, he would not remain faithful and loving, he would never sacrifice anything he wanted, and he would never stop expecting to be taken care of by a partner as he had been by his parents.
Blaine, like Rachel, was an immature child who would always want and expect to get their own way. Mercedes liked the guy, he was very easy to get along with, but she knew in her heart that he could not be the mature, devoted, loving, and equal partner that Kurt deserved.
And deep down, Kurt knew it too.
That was why he looked so miserable. He did not want this. He had told them as much during their sleepover, but they had dismissed his concern as being dramatic. Kurt had been looking for a way out, for permission to do what his heart was telling him was right. He needed to be told that it was not an unforgivable sin to let people down for the sake his own happiness. He wanted to know it was okay to let his old relationship die and be buried in the past where it belonged.
That was Kurt’s greatest flaw, and Mercedes recognized it because she shared it. Kurt was instinctively afraid to offend, afraid that those he cared about would not support or stand with him if he bucked their expectations, and in spite of a brave face, not secure enough in his own self worth to risk driving away loved ones. He was afraid to say ‘No’.
And no one else had even noticed. God, maybe he was right to be afraid! Not being good enough was a fear that Mercedes had struggled with all her life, but unlike Kurt she had both of her parents, two siblings, and a lot of friends from different areas of life to fall back on when self doubt got the better of her. Who did Kurt have?
“You’ve got me, baby.”
She had not intended to speak the words, but they rang out loud and clear in the sudden silence between Blaine’s proposal and Kurt’s pending reply.
Everyone looked up at her, confused. Blaine was shocked and annoyed, probably justifiable given her interruption of his big moment. Kurt was startled but . . . hopeful.
It was the hope in those big baby blues that solidified Mercedes’ courage. Kurt Hummel was her best friend and it was time she showed him that she still had his back.
Walking down the steps, her heart pounded at the sheer audacity of what she was doing. “If this was a wedding, someone would be asking if there was any objection,” she said, smiling winsomely then dropping it when nobody else joined in the joke. Okay then. Serious it was. She took a deep breath. “Well, this isn’t a wedding, but I know that I’d be a terrible friend if I didn’t speak my mind and tell you, Kurt, that I hope you do the right thing and say no.”
Gasps of mingled horror and salacious interest came from all over the room.
“I should have said that when you asked me yesterday what I thought about your suspicion that Blaine intended to propose before you went back to New York. I let myself get caught up in the romance of it all, but that wasn’t right. Because this isn’t some fairy tale of soul-mates and happy-ever-after. This is your life and your happiness, and those things matter. You matter.”
Mercedes was not sure what she had said to cause such a reaction, but Kurt suddenly jerked like he’d just awakened from a dream. He looked down at his dad, who had taken a couple of steps forward. She had spoken quickly, afraid that she would be interrupted but now, instead of looking annoyed, Burt Hummel looked ashamed of himself. His round cheeks had flushed red and he was looking at his son with apologetic eyes.
Following up this curious advantage, Mercedes continued. “Back in high school, you two were everybody’s romantic dream. Getting with Blaine was kind of your big win after all the bad things you’d been through. I thought getting married to him would be a reward for holding out and staying strong, even after he broke your heart. But that’s really stupid.”
She held out her hand, smiling when Kurt accepted it without thought.
“This ain’t high school anymore. You’ve moved forward and started a new life with a great job, a lot of nice sounding friends, and living in the city of your dreams. You’re only on Book One, Appendix Seven of the ‘Hummel Guidebook to a Happy and Successful Life’ and I know how you feel about people who skip to the end before reading the whole thing.”
Everyone else looked even more baffled by the latter comment, but Kurt actually laughed, dashing away a sheen of tears that had sprung to his eyes with his free hand.
“You’re not even in your twenties yet, baby,” she said softly, pleading with her eyes for him to listen and understand. “This was your first relationship, and it hasn’t even been a very smooth one. Do you really want to marry someone you’ve barely even started dating again? When none of your old problems ever got worked out? How do you know he won’t lie to you again, or cheat on you again? Kurt, you deserve better than that. You once told me after a guy broke my heart that I had to be strong for myself, to respect and love myself enough to make the hard choices, because you wanted me to be happy.”
With an audible sniffle, Kurt dashed away more tears and nodded. “You deserve that.”
“And so do you. I want that for you. I want you to have a great life and get moving on the future of your dreams. I want you and I to meet up for tea and pastries in some fancy New York patisserie when we’re 80, to look back on our free and fabulous twenties, and laugh at what brave foolish kids we were. I want you to find a real, true, grown up kind of love when the time is right. Some great guy who will enjoy all the good times with you, but never let you down during the hard ones. Can you honestly say that you’re gonna find that with Blaine?”
At the sound of his name, Blaine seemed to snap out of the trance of shock he had fallen into and he moved up a step, turning his flushed face and angry eyes toward Kurt. “You aren’t going to listen to this, are you? This isn’t any of her business, and we ...”
“It is her business,” Kurt interrupted, shoulders straightening as his formerly wilted posture firmed. His voice sounded stronger and more certain than Mercedes had heard it in months. “Because she’s right. I jumped back into this relationship because I was afraid of not being good enough for anyone. Not worth taking a real chance on with somebody new. I’m sorry, Blaine, that my own issues caused me to lead you on and make you think I wanted this. I don’t. On the way over here my dad said I looked like I was going to my own funeral. That isn’t how anyone is supposed to feel when they know they have a proposal coming.”
He took the ring box from Blaine’s hand and snapped it shut, putting it back in his palm and pushing both away from him. He leaned down and hugged the flummoxed teenager with sincere warmth.
“Thank you for such a beautiful proposal, Blaine, but my answer is no. I won’t marry you. I hope we can go back to being friends one day, but I’ll understand if that’s not possible.”
Blaine was gaping like a landed fish, unable to argue with the unusual degree of certainty in Kurt’s eyes and voice. “You’re really dumping me?” he said in a small voice. “Right here in front of everyone?”
Seeing Kurt’s face flush, Mercedes cut in again. “It’s the risk you take when you invite everyone you know to see you propose.” Her eyes narrowed. “Everyone except most of your would-be groom’s family. Did you even ask Finn and his mom?”
That question sparked a reaction in Burt Hummel, who looked startled, as if he had not even realized until she asked the question that he was the only family member present. He looked at Kurt again, and this time he spoke up.
“She’s right, about everything she said. I feel like finding my favorite socket wrench and whacking myself upside the head to see if it’ll jump start my stupid brain. You asked me what I said when Blaine asked for my permission to do this and I refused to tell you. I shouldn’t have done that, Kurt, and I’m sorry. I said no. That I thought the two of you were too young and had too much ahead of you to make a life changing decision like that. I said that if you were really right for each other, then your relationship would only get stronger with time.” He glared at Blaine. “Though it sounds to me now like it was pretty much built on sand to begin with.”
Mercedes advanced on the startled Blaine. “And what about Kurt’s friends in New York? Did you try to contact any of them? Or did you only want people who would be on your side, to pressure him into saying yes?”
Poking a finger into the lapel of that garish mustard yellow suit she sailed on.
“You do that a lot from what I’ve heard. Go behind Kurt’s back to try and get other people to guilt him into doing whatever you want, without a thought as to whether or not it would hurt him. Well, honey, that ends right now. You got your answer, so now it’s time for you to move on. And you can just take me off your Facebook friends list when you leave here too. I’ve chosen my side.” Smiling at Kurt, she held out her elbow. “Come on, baby. Let me hop a ride out to the airport with you and your dad, and he can drop me off home on the way back. I didn’t bring my car.”
Looping his elbow through hers, Kurt held his head high as he was escorted down the wide staircase. He smiled and held out his free arm to his proudly watching father, who straightened his weather baseball cap and accepted the gesture.
“I feel like we oughtta be singing ‘We’re Off to See the Wizard,” Burt quipped as the three marched past the throng of shocked, and surprisingly admiring in many cases, guests and toward the huge double entry doors of Dalton Academy.
Kurt laughed a little, “I guess that makes me the Tin Man, because I’ve been afraid to trust my heart for a long time.”
"And I’m the Scarecrow,” Burt snorted. “Definitely no brains here.”
“Does that mean I’m Dorothy?” Mercedes asked, grinning at the light banter as they made it outside and over to Burt’s truck.
Kurt let go of their arms, then turned to give his friend a long heartfelt hug. “No,” he said, his voice husky with emotion. “You’re the Wizard. You showed me that I’ve had what I needed all along. Thank you, Mercedes. For keeping me from making the biggest mistake of my life.”
She hugged him back tightly. “I’m sorry I didn’t speak up sooner. You and I both have a problem with going along to get along and we really need to work on that. I’ve just been thinking that it’s time to let go of the past and fully embrace the unknown future, even when it’s a little scary.” She stepped out of the embrace but continued to hold his hand, squeezing it for emphasis as she added, “But at the same time, maybe we need to get back to the fierce divas we both were at 16. I liked those two, and I miss ‘em.”
He nodded. “Me too. That me never would have thought so little of himself that he’d almost agree to marry someone that didn’t respect him.”
“No,” she said, “And he would have flat-out died at the thought of spending his life with someone who dressed like a walking condiment bar.”
Finally, Kurt laughed outright and his father joined in, nodding ruefully.
“I love you, Mercedes.”
“I love you too, Kurt. Now, let’s get going and you can tell me what happened with that other guy you were so excited about. Aaron?”
“Adam,” he said. He looked rather guilty. “He said he didn’t want to be my rebound but that he wanted us to be a couple. I told him I needed more time before I started anything serious with a new guy. He said he understood. He backed off and I think I panicked. I thought that meant he was okay with cooling things off and maybe I didn’t really mean anything to him after all.”
At this admission, Burt groaned and dragged a hand over his face. “And that’s why you let your heart melt when Blaine came panting back up and started humping your leg.”
“Dad!”
Burt raised an eyebrow. “I call it like I see it, kid. And the last ten minutes have opened my eyes to a lot of things. Like, you’ve been put down and pushed out so many times that you don’t even know what a good relationship is supposed to look like anymore. When you get back to New York, I want you to go online and find a good therapist. A real one this time, not some hack school counselor who tries to push their own romantic failures off on you.”
“You know about that?”
“You told Finn. He’s got a big heart and a bigger mouth. And he doesn’t approve of the way Blaine treats you. That should have occurred to me when I didn’t see him in there. I’m real sorry for that, son. You weren’t the only person trying to recapture their past, it seems.” Burt sighed. “Anyway, about that therapist. Find someone you can be comfortable talking about all the crap you’ve been through and let them get your head on straight. I wouldn’t start dating anyone else seriously until you’ve had a few sessions of that. And don’t worry about the money. I put your mom’s life insurance payout in a Trust for you and it’ll mature when you hit your next birthday. I’ll pay for it until then. Just send me the details and I’ll set up a direct deposit for you.”
Kurt looked stunned. “Dad, that’s . . . are you sure?”
The fact that he did not argue that he didn’t need such a thing told his father all he needed to know. “I’m sure. Consider it my apology for being such a myopic ass these last couple of years.”
“You weren’t...”
“I was,” Burt said bluntly. “Take the offer.”
Mercedes gave her friend’s arm a squeeze. “It’s a good idea, but I also want you to know that you can talk to me anytime you want, about anything. This time I promise I’ll listen to what you have to say.”
“Ditto,” he replied, clearly a little overwhelmed by the sudden turnaround his life had just taken. Checking his watch, Kurt said, “We’d better get going. That detour took up most of my pre-flight check in time and I don’t want to miss the plane.”
Burt just nodded, pulling out his keys and heading for the driver’s seat. He had said what he needed to and looked a little relieved to get back to business.
Mercedes climbed into the back seat and was a little surprised, though pleased, when Kurt joined her instead of taking the seat next to his father. “We can catch up a little more,” he said, buckling himself in. “I want to hear more about what’s going on in Los Angeles.”
As she began filling the silence with a dramatic play by play of life as an aspiring recording artist, Mercedes could see the tension leeching out of Kurt. He looked relaxed for the first time since he’d come back to Ohio, his mind at ease, and she felt proud that she had been instrumental in bringing about that expression of peace. She hadn’t been a very good friend of late, but it filled her own heart with healing joy to know that it was not too late.
They were right where they needed to be.
THE END
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It still baffles me...
...that the writers of a kid's show who were willing to blatantly address various heavy topics on-screen such as revenge, war, torture, racism, famine, sexism, ableism, child abuse, abandonment, and fucking GENOCIDE, with gravity and aplomb...
...still somehow thought that "literal 12-year-old doesn't end up with his first crush" would be a deal-breaker. Like...?
Okay. First, a disclaimer. I am a die-hard Zutara shipper. I'm also really fond of MaiLee and Taang, independent of that, and really don't care for Maiko, but that's topic for a different post. None of the points I’m going to go over have anything to do with those pairings.
But EVEN IF I didn't feel that there were far better canon characters for Katara and Aang to end up with respectively...
Kataang, as it is written in canon, is sad and weird and uncomfortable to me, and here's why:
The Dynamic
Maybe if the characters had been, say, 16 and 18 when they first met, this wouldn't be a problem. But Aang is 12 and Katara's 14. And their maturity gap is far larger than a mere two years.
Aang, despite being well traveled and the burden of Avatarhood on his shoulders, is also a very *young* 12. Remember, up until the iceberg, he's lived a pretty idyllic, mostly responsibilty free life. He's only known he was the Avatar for like, a month, tops, before that. Sure, the other monk children don't play with him after this reveal, but it's well established he has friends all over the globe; he's a prodigy, yes, with all the pressure that can bring, but it doesn't appear he was pushed to master air so fast? He just very much enjoys airbending. And Gyatso is a loving guardian.
Which is why he runs away at the first sign of something difficult in his life--the possibility of losing Gyatso.
Compare this to Katara, who was born in a hostile landscape amongst a struggling people. She is, as far as she knows, the last of her kind, with no teacher to guide her. She suffers a traumatic loss young, and it is *explicitly stated in the show* that she stepped up to fill her mother's shoes at what, 7? 8? While her family grieved. Her father leaves, possibly to never return, when she is 11. She is laden with responsibility beyond her years. Her time and energy are not for her to spend on herself--she has too much to do. *She is not a child*
So of *course* she starts mothering this wide-eyed cheerful boy, who got taken away by the same people who murdered her mother within a day of meeting him. He's the Avatar but he's also an innocent kid in need of protection and care.
Now, does that mean she never acts immature? No--she *is* still a teenager, and prone to occasional bouts of typical teenager dumbassery. (see: waterbending scroll). But she does most of the chores and nags the others about their misbehavior and tries to console them when when they're down. She literally poses as Aang's mother at a PTA meeting. For fucks sake, at the end of Season 2, when she's holding a dead Aang sprawled in her arms and looking pleadingly at the sky, there is NO WAY you can convince me all those art students storyboarding that scene WEREN'T making an intentional reference to *La Pieta*--You know, that super famous statue where Mary is cradling her dead Savior son (before he gets resurrected) and that is widely considered one of the most poignant examples of MOTHERLY LOVE AND GRIEF in the whole WORLD.
And I don't know about you... but it's really, really creepy to me for a *romantic* relationship to result from something with that much mother/son energy deliberately coded into the show.
The Lack Of Development
At what point does Katara reciprocate the crush? It's very well established that Aang has a crush, of course. But we've got 61 episodes and basically no definitive evidence that Katara feels anything for Aang beyond platonic affection. There's the time a fortune teller says she'll marry a powerful bender and she's like, 'huh' (let's ignore the fact that Aang at the time is like the only powerful bender she really knows). There's the time she (almost?) kisses Aang in a cave because, you know, she thinks they might stay lost forever and starve to death if she doesn't (romantic!)
The other two times Aang kisses her--she's just kind of shocked after the first one, and gets mad after the second one because she *had just expressed a desire to not do so seconds before* And the fourth kiss is in the literal last 30 seconds of the show, with no dialogue, no lead-up, just a fade to black "welp this is happening, aaaand, SCENE." It very, very much has the feeling of "hero gets the prize/girl" instead of "two people who have been mutually longing for each other come together", and that's really, really gross to me. It does such a disservice to both their characters, but Katara's especially. It feels like she had no agency in this result, that they got together because Aang wanted it so much, but it matters so little what she wanted that we don’t even need to bother showing her wanting it.
The Stunting/Regression of Character Growth
What does Aang sacrifice? The answer? Nothing. 'Now, wait a minute', I can hear you say, 'he lost his entire people and culture! How can you say he's lost nothing!' I didn't say he's never suffered *loss*. But having something taken away from you and giving something up for another's sake are two entirely different things. Aang, in the end, gets everything he wanted--the girl he wanted, his pacifist morals intact and unchallenged, his culture eventually restored. Hell, he even somehow gets the Avatar State, despite never explaining how he manages it when it was EXPLICITLY STATED he couldn't do so without letting go of certain attachments. Wow, guess it turns out he never needed to sort out all of his emotional trauma to acheive inner peace and enlightenment after all--just needed a good acupressure session to get those chakras flowin'! One quick magic whack to the back!
I don't think 'the hero is always right' is a good message. The theme of 'just because you want something doesn't necessarily mean it's what's good for you, or others' is a pretty recurring theme throughout the rest of the show, and having the universe warp itself to accomodate the beliefs of the protagonist (lookin' at you, deus-ex-machina turtle) so he is always right, no matter what, means that he never has to reevaluate his beliefs, never really has to *grow* as a character.
Kya, Ursa, Yue, Iroh, Hakoda, Katara, Sokka, Zuko--hell, even Toph, who makes the decision to let Appa get taken so she can save her friends...
Over and over it's shown that Love is Sacrifice, and I think Aang should have been shown making some personal sacrifices for the sake of the world, instead of showing that the power of clinging to his absolutist morals is enough to solve all his problems.
I understand why the writers, despite showing many characters die off-screen, hesitated to show Aang killing someone, even someone unredeemably evil, because there would be no way to do it OFF screen, and it IS still a kid's show. (On that note: couldn’t they have just somehow...idk, trapped Ozai in the Spirit World or something? Have him literally sent to not-hell?)
BUT, that doesn't mean they couldn't have shown Aang doing something that made him realize that, as the Avatar, even if a necessary action went against his personal beliefs or wasn't what he wanted, his needs are superceded by the needs of the world he claims to love. He ignores this in S2 and nearly pays the ultimate price... but it's never properly addressed again. And thus, because that never happens, I honestly don't consider 13-yr-old Aang all that much more mature than 12-yr-old Aang, and I think that's a waste of potential.
And as for character regression...
Katara? Master Waterbender and war-hero? Who grabbed onto the first opportunity to explore the world beyond her tiny home, who fought for every scrap of skill and recognition she had--against a world determined to see her as lesser because of her race, her gender, her age? Who never backed down from what she thought was right, even when her own family and friends didn't support her? You're telling me that, according to canon, *that same Katara* was perfectly content to retreat to the South Pole and do nothing of note for the next 70 years except for being a good little housewife and healer? Get the fuck out of here with that misogynistic horseshit.
IN CONCLUSION
I could go on. I could talk about the unequal division of emotional labor between the two--with Katara constantly having to be mindful of not upsetting Aang too much lest he fly away and/or have an Avatar State tantrum. With Katara constantly reassuring Aang, but Aang, for instance, offering unsolicited advice about revenge instead of trying to understand what she needed, or kissing her without asking--twice!--and expecting them to be together without him ever even asking if that's what she wanted. I could talk about Katara not taking Aang to task for things he does wrong and Aang not being willing to see that Katara isn't perfect--how he puts her on a pedastal and Katara is afraid to leave it and break his illusions by being her real self.
But ultimately, what it boils down to, it that the most unrealistic thing about AtLA was not the magic, or the spirits, or the hybrid animals.
No, the most unbelievable thing about this show is that the ending was ruined just because more than creating a consistent thematic and emotional throughline, a couple of white dudes wanted to vicariously live out all of their "hot-for-babysitter" childhood fantasies.
And that's all I have to say about that.
#avatar: the last airbender#atla#meta#critical#anti-kataang#don't like don't read#a decade's worth of salt#and i might as well tag#zutara
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Okay, good to know! I would like to ask 34 for Joey and Dick? Comicsverse or Titansverse, your choice?
Anon, I am so sorry for how long this took. I would say I was busy with some project or another but this should have been my prior commitment. I hope this reaches you and that it’s what you’re looking for.
I did try catching up on comicsverse but I didn’t manage to get very far with NTT over the last few months. Haven’t gotten past the arc where Post-Crisis Robin!Jason gets involved yet! So I chose to write for Titansverse again.
with all that said, here it is.
Ficlet requests: give me a number + a pairing
Prompt: #34 - Good Enough
Pairing: Dick/Joey
Fandom: Titans TV series
A/N: this story is set right before Dick and Dawn come clean to Joey about their superhero ids and that they’re going after Deathstroke. Joey at this point does not know that Slade works as a mercenary. The implicit canon-divergence here is that DickDawn isn’t a thing anymore. In my head they’d just agreed to a mutual breakup after weeks of Dick becoming more and more distant trying to focus on the Mission full-time, and Dawn gets fed up waiting for him. That plus Dick realises he’s probably catching feelings elsewhere.
--
Dawn once said he had a "saving people" complex. Dick always shrugged it off; it came with his night-job, after all. Besides, if he could save even just one person, why wouldn't he?
But never before had he felt so unsure and useless as he was now. With Donna still grieving and the team almost torn apart over their decision to involve Joey, Dick was finding it harder and harder to remain unbiased and lead the team the right way. Hell, he wasn't even sure if he was leading them in the right direction.
He wondered if Bruce ever had the same problem with the Justice League. He doubted it. Even if Bruce did, he was Batman. People tended to just acquiesce as soon as they saw the cape and cowl.
Dick sighed. Joey stirred besides him, tilting his head with an inquisitive look thrown his way. They were sitting on the beach again, the spot they kept finding themselves coming back to every weekend despite Dawn's insistence that they cut things off before it's too late. They were one less member tonight, Donna having elected to stay after hours at the museum, and Hank and Dawn both turned in earlier for their morning shift the next day. That left just Dick and Joey, what remained of their drinks, and the dying embers of the bonfire.
The younger boy wasn't ready to call it a night yet. He rarely was, when he went out with his new friends from the record store.
And that's all they were to him - the guy he met at the record store, and his college friends, who hung out at the beach sometimes. It ate away at Dick, the fact that they kept lying to Joey's face, week after week. Because Joey was made of nothing but light and kindness.
When Dick looked over, he found Joey looking at him with concern in his eyes. He signed something, and Dick had to focus on his lips to read what he's saying.
Something bothering you? Joey mouthed.
Dick felt a small smile twitch on his lips. All his life, Dick has had to grapple with letting people in too close. It didn't help that it was practically one of the first lessons Bruce drilled into his head. But when Joey asked that question, it loosened something inside Dick, made Dick feel like he could just confide in Joey with no judgement at all. Perhaps it was precisely because Joey didn't know his history and the extent of who he was that allowed them this ease and comfort in each other's company.
"It's... there's a lot," Dick began tentatively. He couldn't say too much, but Joey was looking at him encouragingly. He didn't want to just push Joey away.
"I'm helping a few friends deal with some pretty big transitions right now. I can't go into details, but it's a pretty big change. And I'm trying to be there as best as I can, lending out my couch, all of it. But it's a lot. Guess I'm just... wondering if I'm being a good enough friend."
Joey's hands wavered, his mouth opening and closing with a few false starts. Finally, he asked, Is this about the others?
Dick grimaced, but nodded. "Don't say anything to them, okay?"
Joey nodded and didn't prod any further. He patted Dick on the arm and gestured as if he was zipping his mouth close.
Dick quirked his lips and took a swig from his beer. He wasn't old enough to drink, technically, so he didn't make a habit of it. But that meant his tolerance was weak. And he must've been tipsier than he thought - because when he looked up, he thought he saw Joey staring at him with a fond look in his eyes.
You know you are a good friend, right? Joey mouthed slowly, making sure Dick could catch every syllable in the lovely shape of his lips.
Dick blinked. He looked away, heat creeping up his neck. Then he felt Joey shuffle closer, and place a gentle beckoning a hand on his arm.
You are. You're a good person.
Dick huffed slightly. "Thanks. I try... It's just, I feel like there's more I can do." He looked out towards the shore, where the stars hung low enough to almost kiss the lulling waves. The air tasted different here, but there wasn't a night Dick didn't think about Gotham, about how he could always do better. "With my dad being... who he is. How much he's done for his city. Sometimes it just feels like I'm not doing enough, you know?"
Dick flicked his eyes back to Joey, who shook his head at him with a rueful smile.
We aren't our dads.
Dick snorted. "No, we're not." He thought about Dawn, what she said about being Batman. "I shouldn't want to be my dad either. It's just, he has his moments. And when he's good... He's amazing."
Joey nodded. He knew a thing or two about looking up to a father that was less than perfect. He brought his hands up again, but whatever he signed was too complex for Dick to parse thoroughly. Dick only caught fragments in his lip-reading: Dads ... work through... love ...
Dick furrowed his eyebrows. Joey huffed and dug through his pockets. When he found what he was looking for - a pen - he grabbed Dick's arm and flipped it over.
Dick stilled, but he could swear his heart skipped a beat.
Then, Joey scribbled onto Dick's arm. I think that dads have their own shit to work through too. Sometimes, they just don't show their love in ways that we can understand.
Joey's wrist flicked, and his Eye of Horus bracelet glinted against the firelight. Dick felt a pang in his chest.
You are good enough, and I'm sure your dad thinks so too, Joey continued in his scribble, heedless of the cacophony in Dick’s head.
Dick looked back up at Joey. You are good enough, the boy mouthed again.
Dick wondered if Joey would still have this much faith in all of them when he inadvertently learnt the truth.
#DickJoey#Jeriwing#Dick Grayson#Joey Wilson#Jericho Wilson#dc fic#Titansverse#answered#ask meme#stvlti writes
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In Memento Mori
Author’s note:
Alright, so, I’m not in the habit of posting my writing here, so if I’m formatting wrong, someone feel free to yell at me. This is a short work of fiction in response to @holdyourbreathfornow ‘s thought exercise here that apparently I connected with so strongly I proceeded to have a nightmare about it that I woke up crying from, and @tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors, who is the creator of Love and Other Fairytales . Thank you for letting me play in your sand box, I’m sorry for setting it on fire.
PLEASE NOTE, if you haven’t read LAOFT this isn’t gonna make a lick of sense, so go read that, get emotionally steamrolled, then come back to be emotionally sucker punched by this slugger. Also this is set roughly after the boys get married but before Linda was a thing, because murder is ok but orphaning children is not in my mind apparently.
TWs: Major character death, murder, prolonged existential dread, pondering the death of loved ones, angst, hurt with absolutely no comfort, torture (unintentional and non explicit but still there) brief descriptions of serious injuries, and just all the bad feelings. Let me know if I missed anything!
Parings: LAMP, mentions of Toby/Greta
Virgil had been preparing for his husbands' deaths since the first moment he had met them. He couldn't help it. It was an unspoken truth between them most of the time, how many people he'd lost, how many more he now had to lose. Still, the fact remained that he spent much of his time thinking of their inevitable departure and how he could endure it.
Roman's death was something he had come to terms with even before he'd met the man, back when he was little more than a child coming to chatter at the tear-spun coffin that held the prince. Virgil had never really believed he'd be free. It hadn't made sense to put hope in the hopeless, so as Roman grew and his voice deepened and time stretched forward in its usual merciless crawl, Virgil had started in bits and pieces to grieve that he'd never get to know the man Roman would become. He'd be yet another Fisher-turned-Gage who would keep him company for but a while only to some day never return, buried with his family before they could ever meet.
But when Roman had broken the coffin and woken him, that hadn't eased the grief that curled dark and patient at the edge of his thoughts. He was reckless as an adult, nearly as much so as when he was a child, noble, and self-sacrificing to a fault. Virgil knew a martyr when he saw one, and he suspected from the beginning that he was likely to bury Roman young, or younger than necessary, at least. Their witch would stand between them and any possible harm without hesitation, with no thought of himself, and there was only one way that could end.
Patton's inevitable end was distinctly harder to accept. Not because Virgil loved any of his husbands more than the other (that was a bit like asking if he had a preference for his lungs over his heart) but more because the thought of Patton being gone was bit like going to bed and waking up the next day to be told the sun was stolen away never to be seen again. Patton was all things good and warm, a bright light in all the bleak, and it was hard not to imagine a vacuum opening up in space, shuddering at the sudden loss of well-being in the world.
If Roman was a tragic inevitably, all the more sorrowful for its expectedness, Patton was a juddering, shocked intake at the abrupt wrongness left behind.
And Logan. Oh, Logan, his sweet Spring.
Forever wasn't really a term Virgil found himself thinking in anymore. He had tied his life into too many heres and nows to allow him to think of 'always' in the way he used to. But Logan was his compliment, his imperfect reflection, alike in his dissimilarity to everything else. With Logan there was a hint of that 'always' in the way it once was to Virgil. But that didn't mean that he didn't grieve his third husband with the same ferocity as he did the other two. He had to, had to let that part of his heart wallow in the sadness of it all, so that when the day came that he was alone again he could bear it without being consumed and crushed.
So he imagined what it would be like to be without Logan, and he could only think of it as being robbed of a sense, his eyes or ears gone, leaving only a ringing gap, a darkness where there was something before. There would be no more like but not alike, no more simply understood by nature of being not-human, no calm compliment to his impatience, no more affectionate mutual pestering when ruling became too much.
Yet in all his dreary pondering of death and how he might survive his losses, Virgil never stopped to consider and come to terms with his own death.
It was stupid. So stupid. Such a stupid, stupid way to die, so easily prevented.
Virgil and Logan had been leaving the court, a long day of half-truths and forced pleasantries and barely concealed threats cut loose behind them as they went to meet Roman and Patton in the clearing, their clearing, for a well earned picnic. Virgil had pulled them through the shadows, both he and Logan agreeing that they were tired enough that neither was in the mood to walk.
There was a hunter. Someone from out of town. Maybe he was lost, who knew. Virgil hadn't noticed him, hadn't been paying attention, and for what little life he had left he would most certainly not forgive himself for being so careless. They must have startled him. Virgil had never seen what moving through the shadows looked like from an outside perspective, but Patton had very reliably informed him that it was rather unsettling to watch. It was easy to imagine that two fae appearing like that, with no attempt at a glamour between them, would be alarming. Virgil barely had time to register the click of a trigger, turn, and with loud bang he was flat on his back, clearly able to feel a small disk of iron wedged in his right lung. Above the ringing in his ears he heard Logan shout, only to be cut off with another bang and a whimper. Virgil desperately wanted to call out to him, to know how he'd been hurt, but he couldn't get enough air in his rended lung and all that came out was a burbling gurgle.
Then came the worst bit.
Virgil could feel his body trying to knit itself back together again and again, unable to do so around the poisonous bullet buried in his body, but incapable of ceasing to do as it was designed to. He bled slow, so slow, body paralyzed under the weight of cursed metal not even the size of his thumb. It might have been funny, if he could get in enough air to laugh. Toby might have found this all interesting, he always liked practical solutions to magical situations, though Virgil never thought he'd use such a preference to try and hurt him. Goodness, he missed his brother-in-law dearly at the moment.
He could hear shouting over the buzzing in his skull, and familiar calloused hands gently tilted his head up to rest on rough jeans and comfortable thighs, and he sighed in shaky relief to once again be resting somewhere familiar. There was nothing to be done, he knew. No spell, no surgery would fix this, so he simply looked up into his lover's face and let himself be comforted at the sight of him. He was so pretty. Hair a fiery, copper halo in the late afternoon sun, warm as his furnace hot skin. Virgil only wished Roman would stop crying so he could admire his lovely green eyes for the last time. He did so love his eyes.
More than anything he wanted to reach up and touch his witch's face, comfort him, but was like a safe had been dropped on his chest and he was left weak and heavy from the weight of it.
On the edge of his perception he could hear Patton chanting softly. It took a moment to focus enough to make out what he was saying, but Virgil could just barely hear "-up, wake up, wake up, wake UP-" and oh, he had to see.
Gradually, in increments, he turned his head to the side to see Patton, rocking side to side, with Logan's head tucked under his chin, body sprawled across the ground at an awkward angle. Right between his perfect brows was a neat little hole oozing brackish blood. Some guilty part of Virgil felt relieved. That would have been quick, easy. His body wouldn't have had time to try and heal itself the way Virgil's had. He wouldn't have been in pain. Fighting the leaden weight of his limbs he slid his arm across the grass, long fingers brushing lightly against Logan's still ones. They were so cold, not the usual summer rain warm he was used to, and he let out a distinctly inhuman warble as his chest spasmed in protest. Patton answered in a very human-yet-not-at-all wail, and Virgil winced in sympathy as both his and Logan's glasses cracked in response. Everything was getting rather fuzzy at this point. Virgil blinked sluggishly, humming reassuringly when he felt Patton's hand joining Romans' tight in his hair. It probably should have hurt, but it didn't, and he wouldn't have minded even if it did. In all his pondering of death, Virgil had tried not to think much on what happened to whatever was left of a person when their body was too damaged to carry them any longer. But he liked to think that whatever was next, oblivion or something else, that humans and fae and every other living thing went to the same place. Then he could see Greta, and Toby, and not-so-little Trudi, and Oma, and all his lovers again someday.
He sighed in shaky relief at the thought.
"I'll . . . see you . . .soon?" He managed to push out as he gazed up at Roman, voice just this side of pleading.
Everything faded to gentle dark before he heard the reply, though.
#love and other fairytales#laoft#virgil sanders#logan sanders#roman sanders#patton sanders#toby#greta#trudi#may gage#LAMP#and now for all the tws#tw death#tw prolonged death#tw torture#tw guns#tw murder#tw wounds#hurt with no comfort#should i throw on a writing tag?#sure why not#questionable writing#sanders sides#sanders sides fic#im sorry but also not#holdmybreathfornow#tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors#annnnd that's it#thank you all and goodnight
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14x18 First Watch Thoughts: Mary Winchester the Mirror, TFW and Destiel
**FLAILS**
My thoughts are practically incoherent because I’m having BIG FEELS right now...VERY big feels re: TFW/Destiel narratives.
I am SUPER glad Berens was the one who penned Mary’s death!! The episode was just well-done all around from start to finish and intensely executed, with the proper solid balance of angst, emotional insight from the characters placed inside Mary’s cathartic contextual role, and the consistent reiteration of Mary as TFW’s overall Parental Catharsis in 14x18′s storytelling (and S12-14′s whole parental premise in conjunction with John Winchester’s ghost).
Mary was portrayed as the singular contrasting foil to TFW’s individual and combined arcs. Absence was, obviously, a core theme, with Mary’s absence -- her death -- playing out as A. familial purpose (accountability and her death as the impetus to work together --> forgive each other, forgive yourself), B. self-purpose (self-realization via Jack: what did I do? Why did I do it? Why do we do things?), and C. romantic purpose on the Dean/Cas front.
Let me explain C. -- well, WE BEEN KNEW. The metasphere wrote about this (my post x).
x
Dean was HEAVILY subtextually framed as the angry spouse undergoing a rough patch with Cas over Mary’s death (the tension, juxtaposed by sad orchestral strings and soft lighting, Dean lashing out at Cas, romantic framing via Dean’s back turned to Cas, their interactions holding frustration yet still underpinned by certain tenderness etc *sighhhhh*) and Dean continuing down the route of giving Cas, not Sam, frosty shoulders -- emphasized by the romantic visual framing of space between them e.g. Sam preventing Cas from comforting Dean during Mary’s funeral, backs again facing each other, Dean and Cas interacting sparsely, Dean bitter and disengaged, Cas longing for forgiveness from Dean, Sam as the overt brother caught in the middle as he embodies the role of mediator and stable thinker for both of them etc -- just strengthens my belief that Destiel is going to experience another (hopefully) intense romance-coded confrontation as intense as the one they had in the cabin -- one that leads up to a lover’s make-up or some kind of emotional breakthrough/realization which has Cas happy enough to be taken by the Empty (remember, DEAN STILL DOESN’T KNOW ABOUT CAS’ DEAL. Cas’ life to save his son’s life, harking back to Dean’s own fatherly self-sacrificial deal by saying Yes to Michael. He is utterly unaware that he’ll lose Cas) and it’s a double punch here, because Dean will realize how stupid he is for not appreciating Cas -- more accurately, trying to be mutually transparent and honest with him (he has, though, and he’s made leaps and bounds) before it’s too late but failing (final regression before progression). He does appreciate Cas, and Cas means more to him than anyone could ever describe *points at his Mind!Bar 14x10* yet their love languages still don’t align. IT’S NEVER TOO LATE TO START ALL OVER AGAIN, DEAN! 14x19 is written by BL so I additionally hope the D/C subtext from this point onwards works in our favour!!
As I said in above and in my liveblog posts, a summary:
The differences in Dean’s grieving are a COMPLETE visual comparison to 12x23, complete with overhead 📸 shots and differing funeral pyre scenes: when he grieved over Cas, he was alone, kneeling on the ground, and was blatantly numb/emotionally incapacitated – Dean mourned the loss of his lover. When he’s grieving Mary, Sam is by his side. Brothers mourning the loss of their mother. Romantic vs familial.
Overt romance-coded parallels with Sam/Rowena keeping constant contact just like Dean/Cas do both offscreen and onscreen
Sam telling Dean IT WASN’T JUST CAS and his own emotional pull in this ep as expressing accountability for TFW’s actions in general – besides internalizing/talking about the self-guilt, shame, and the inevitable pain of losing people despite saving people (also re: the 🔑 theme of doing the wrong, stupid thing for the right reasons) -- was character development on a marvelous scale. Dean was enlightened and began to admit it himself. Honest, open words. Dean and Cas should learn from him!!
Cas was absolutely humanized, subsuming the Winchester Way of Bringing Family Back, and he additionally evoked honesty/an emotional justification while admitting his mistakes and again representing FAITH: faith in Jack narratively linked to FAITH IN HIMSELF and the season-long theme of believing there’s another way -- in believing that good things shall come. As he appropriately told Anael last episode -- loneliness is a construct misconstrued by her; not being in one’s physical presence doesn’t mean they aren’t there -- they are there. They are there for you. Narrative symmetry with 14x17′s presence of emotional acknowledgement despite physical absence re: God (and TFW; just because Cas wasn’t with the Winchesters did not mean he loved them any less) vs 14x18′s absence of full-frontal communication despite physical presence re: Dean and Cas/TFW (being physically present also entails being emotionally present through HONESTY). Berens interlinked the subtext. Negative spaces are being filled. And there’s also an Evil/dark dimension added to this Presence vs Absence commentary: Lucifer’s a visage in Jack’s mind, just like Sam. Jack’s soullessness has come to a psychological crux. He’s teeter-tottering – tried desperately to bring Mary back, and now he might have fucked up the natural order (if BTS pics of zombies in 14x20 is linked to this). Furthermore:
(*clutches chest* There’s the heartbreaking spousal-coded visual narrative.)
Oh, Cas...Jack is BOTH good and evil. This is the intrinsic dualism of human nature. It’s what makes Jack human. And goodness involves badness.
CAS: [Jack] was good for us. Indeed, we know he was. The unhealthily-codependent-abusive notion of family TFW used to possess (where their overarching parental issues -- Chuck’s absence, John’s abuse and Mary’s absence -- crippled their early formative growth, extending into decades) was deconstructed and rebuilt in healthier ways. Being a parent to Jack offset their true capabilities/qualities: FAITH (Cas), HOPE (Sam), and LOVE (Dean), alongside all the stickiness that came with his birth. By direct association, Cas learned (is learning) how to believe in himself. Sam learned (is learning) how to hope in himself. Dean learned (is learning) how to love himself. Mental/emotional release from their internal chains took place (will come to its final culmination in S15). In other words, Jack the Unifying TFW Mirror -- like Mary -- was the great interpersonal conduit for (a Jesus-figure-representation) honesty, appreciation (spending time with your loved ones), positive vs negative self-process, and self-awareness. Keep in mind that Jack has characteristically taken the place of Dean, Cas and Sam’s own dark arcs (Soulless!Sam, in particular) with what looks like a Godstiel mirror in 14x19 -- he’s literally becoming textualized as TFW’s mirror -- and, like his parents, he is going to make his independent (wayward) choices and question the primacy of human nature: good, evil, and the grey in-between. Will he listen to his head or his heart? Most of all, Jack taught them that HuntingTM is filled with pain, horror, and death, but genuine purpose lies beyond it. The lives they live are also innumerably interlinked with joy and happiness. These positive things aren’t as sparse as they think: they have each other.
Mary Winchester is ⚰️ and resides in Heaven (her death successfully made me emotional and packed a deep personal punch; the black and white flashbacks interspersed throughout 14x18 relative to Mary’s influence on TFW was A++). She disappeared right when TFW’s arcs came together to display character progression. Her purpose – pushing TFW to engage in self-introspection, personal growth, and honesty with the Self and others – is done.
Mary, the Cas mirror, carved M.W. into the table with S.W and D.W. You know who should be next, right? CASTIEL W. (and Jack W.) (recall that in 14x17, Mary relayed to Dean that she treasured and enjoyed her time with him and Sam -- channeling Cas’ 14x12 farewell speech. Mary has always embodied LOVE, both romantic and familial, with the great virtue of honesty, and Dean, by proxy, has been telling his family he loves them. Again, who is the next family member he’ll say I LOVE YOU to? What do Dean and Cas WANT? Time to answer this question!!)
WE HAVE COME FULL CIRCLE. Narrative cyclism, y’all. Mary and John Winchester are finally at ✌️, and by so doing, TFW will experience emotional/personal/psychological ✌️ as they leave their past behind to create their own optimistic self-actualized future. THERE’LL BE GENUINE PEACE WHEN YOU ARE DONE.
TFW MUST TALK
I mean, I’ll probably reblog this with new thoughts during the next few days, but yes, ENDGAME’S UPON US, and all the extensive meta regarding Dabb Era Love and...Love, Unity, Family, Honesty, the centrality of interpersonal relationships and Reconciliation of the Past & Future since Season New Beginnings 12/13 over Season Who Am I 14 should be realized in the final two ANGST-filled eps. TL;DR a gigantic multilayered soup of character-positive/relationship growth-positive meta coming to fruition for the main plot.
Berens has killed us all. 14x18 is one of my favourite Emotion-centric episodes yet!
RATING: 10/10
Thank you for reading my sloppier-than-usual word-vomit!
#my stuff#my meta#meta review#supernatural#mary winchester#narrative#tfw#destiel#deancas#spn s14#14x18#CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT#long post for ts#narrative cyclism#hunter husbands#married!destiel#parallels#romance tropes#jack winchester#nature vs nurture#positive endgame#endgame destiel#Jack must die so he can live#subtext vs text#THIS IS A BERENS APPRECIATION BLOG#Jack the TFW Mirror#good vs evil#spn 14x18
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Trust Me | Natasha Romanoff x Stark! GN! Reader
Fandom: Marvel
Pairing: GN! Reader x Natasha Romanoff - Platonic/ Romantic, up for interpretation...
Plot: There was no way around it. It was either you or Natasha. She didn’t want you to go, and obviously, you didn’t want her to go either. You knew she was as hard-headed as you, so you came up with a plan to get the soul stone, even if you had to lie to Natasha about it.
A/N: (shitty) Angst. Endgame spoilers, but if you haven’t seen it yet by now... Then don’t... Don’t read this... I Guess lmfaoo... Inspired by this post on Instagram. I wanted to show Natasha some love, and since she Did Not Deserve To Die (not to say that Clint does), might as well Kill Someone Else ;) And this was originally a male reader fic, but it was vague enough so that it can be gender neutral.
“... It’s going to have to be one of us.”
Your jaw clenched as you were sat on the ground next to Natasha, who held her head in her palms.
You were silent as you peeked through your lashes to look at the bastard who was already up here. He’s also silent as he looks at you, almost through your soul as your guts clench with anxiety.
“... What if he’s bullshitting us?”
Your voice was quiet.
She didn’t answer you, though you didn’t really need an answer to that question. It was inevitable. Neither of you could ever go back from this- you had only one chance to get the soul stone, no matter what it took.
Your lips were pressed in a fine line.
You thought about it logistically, trying to find some way to justify you being the one to jump.
Family?
You winced.
No, that wasn’t really a great one to start off with. Biologically speaking, you had your father, Tony. You’d know he’d miss you beyond words, after all you saw him grieving for Peter first hand. And Pepper would be devastated from losing you, her first- if not technical- child...
As for Natasha...
As far as you and the team knew, she doesn’t even know her own family members or if they were even alive. Hell, she didn’t even know her own father’s name when the red skull guy said his name.
But, either way, the team would miss her... And besides, Tony would still have 2 kids left- Morgan and Harley-, and if this whole thing works, 3 since Peter would come back.
And chances are if it does work, then they could just... Use the Infinity Stones to resurrect you, right?
It was a gamble to take, but if it meant that you were to be the one who jumped, then so be it.
But... How were you going to convince her to let you be the one to jump? There was no real guarantee that you could be resurrected, and even then, she’d argue that she should be the one to jump since she’s older than you.
She always used that to her advantage, saying that her age came with more wisdom than you’d ever have. Even if the age gap wasn’t all that big, she’d still say that.
You sighed quietly.
Either way, there was no real way of going around the argument that she should be the one to jump. All of the logistics point to her being the one to do it, even if you didn’t want to admit the facts.
Your head buzzed with ideas until one hit you.
“(Name)?”
You stood up abruptly.
Was this going to work? What if she doesn’t agree with your plan? How are you going to convince her to go through with it with you?
You held your hands out to her and she took it with a curious but grim expression. Chances are, she’s probably thought of a million ways to get you to stay behind.
“Follow me...”
You held her hands with a tight grip as you walked towards the edge of the cliff. You were a few feet away from it as you stopped and turned around to look at her in her eyes.
Your eyebrows furrowed as you spoke in a low, quiet voice, trying to make it seem like you didn’t want the red skull guy to hear. Either way, it didn’t matter if he heard you or not, but it would at least give some sense of slyness that should spark some hope in her.
“I have a plan, Nat.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“Care to tell?”
She kept her voice at a soothing calm tone, but you knew better than that. Her palms were getting a tad bit sweaty. You really didn’t know who she was trying to calm down- you, or her.
“I know this might sound really stupid, but most of my plans are stupid but they work. You just... Please, just trust me, okay?”
You weren’t lying. Whenever you used to suggest plans to the team when you were all in your prime time, it sounded absolutely bonkers. But never had they failed you, so no matter how ridiculous it was, the team always trusted you and your plans.
“Okay. I trust you.”
She nearly whispered that her warm breath momentarily heating you up as you both stood on the cold clifftop. You searched in her eyes for any hesitation. Any reluctance, any doubt.
There wasn’t any of them in her eyes. Just trust and mutual understanding.
Your heart ached.
She trusted you.
You were thankful that you kept up that little tidbit of yours up until the bitter end. You were thankful that she trusted you. Just so you could use it to your advantage.
“To keep it all short... We jump off together.”
Her eyes widened and her mouth opened. She tried forming words, looking into the windows of your eyes, searching for humor in them. Only seriousness.
“... What...?”
You squeezed her hand and felt your heart swell when she squeezed right back.
“Look, Nat, both of us are stubborn as a mule. You won’t let me jump, I won’t let you jump.”
You shook your head as you pulled her in for a hug. She didn’t hesitate to wrap her hands around you as you murmured quietly.
“But... I have a plan, and that plan needs us both to jump.”
She leaned back, but not enough to separate herself from your embrace. Her lips quivered as she tried to smile at you.
“(Name)... I don’t...” She shook her head as she cast her eyes down. She rested her forehead against yours.
“... I don’t know, (Name)...”
You strained a smile as you closed your eyes.
“Natasha, do you trust me? Yes or no?”
You prayed that she said yes. There was a lingering doubt in the back of your head. What if she said no? What would happen then?
Knowing Natasha, she... Oh God, she wouldn’t hesitate to try and beat you into the ground, just to prevent you from jumping off.
You both knew in your heart, even if she was more skilled than you, you had an iron suit for god’s sake. You could easily overpower her into the ground, even if that meant having to do the worst just so she could stay down.
You opened your eyes and stared right into hers. Emotions were swimming through her eyes as they were illuminated by the dim sky.
“... Yeah... I trust you...”
Relief flooded your system. You were glad. If she had said no, you two would eventually have to brawl for the cliff.
But as quick as the relief came, it left and was replaced with anxiety.
If your plan worked, then...
You stepped back and faced the cliff. You held her hands with a vice grip as you both approached the edge. You swallowed the lump lodged in your throat as you teetered over the edge. You take a quick glance down as your stomach dropped to the floor.
It... You were so high...
You snapped out of it when you felt Natasha squeeze your hand. She’s smiling at you, which makes your throat clench up. She thinks it’s a good plan.
She thinks it’s a good plan.
She thinks it’s a good plan.
She thinks it’s a good plan.
You clenched your other fist behind your back, trying to get rid of tears threatening to come out. You looked away and down at the bottom of the cliff before glancing back at her with half-lidded eyes. You chewed on the inside of your mouth as you sent her a smile.
“Trust me, Nat. I have a plan.”
You prayed that she didn’t hear the uncertainty in your voice.
You two stood there for what seems to be an eternity before you nodded at her, and leaned forwards together and off the cliff.
The cold wind hit you with more force than you were expecting.
You felt like you were flying in your suit, freefalling as you always did in your free time.
Only this time, your suit wasn’t going to save you.
You still held hands with Natasha as you were both falling. Blood rushed to your ears as you pulled Natasha close for a hug. She returned it back and you saw her lips moving, but you couldn’t really tell what she was trying to say.
You glanced up- or down, since you both went head first, and saw the ground near. You couldn’t see the ground from the cliff, but now, you saw it clearly.
Strangely, it was rather clean. Just rubble.
You swallowed as you heard F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s voice in your earpiece.
“7 seconds until impact.”
Shit, you had to act quick.
You glanced back at Natasha, and you could tell she was getting extremely nervous as the ground got closer and closer as each millisecond passes.
“5 seconds until impact.”
You snaked your hands over to your nano-tech storage center- it was conveniently on your chest, just like your fathers. You tapped it and felt the nano-tech forming rapidly. Only this time, it wasn’t wrapping around you.
It was latching itself onto Natasha.
‘Take her to the top.’
The suit commanded your last order. You pressed your lips firm on her forehead and pulled back, mouthing her your last words.
‘Trust me.’
Her eyes widened as you pushed away from you and watch as the suit form at light speed over her body. She’s trying to struggle out of it, but the suit simply holds her in one place as she screams at you.
“(Name)!”
You sighed quietly and watched with a smile as the suit completely forms over her. The suit immediately flings itself upright and uses the leg thrusters to stop her from descending with you.
Quickly, her figure fades away from your view until the fog takes over. You couldn’t really see the cliff top from here, but you closed your eyes.
It wouldn’t really matter now.
All that you could do was pray that the next time you saw her, she’d forgive you for using her trust in you to your advantage.
“... Where’s (Name)?”
Tony asked Natasha. She avoided his gaze and stood there silently.
Steve frowned and put his hand on her shoulder.
“Romanoff...?”
His voice was gentle but firm. Natasha’s lips quivered as she lifted her head up to reveal her glassy eyes. Tears gently slid down her face as she locked eyes with Tony.
Realization passed Tony’s eyes as his hands trembled. Fear rushed through his palms as he furrowed his eyebrows. He clenched his hands as the shook.
“No...”
“Tony...”
Thor approached him from behind and placed his hand on Tony’s back. He turned around to look Thor in his eyes, and all Thor saw was immediate grief.
“My baby...”
Tony’s voice trembled as he gripped Thor’s bicep. Clint and Scott hung their heads as they didn’t know what to say. Bruce shook his head as he clenched his jaw, tears already slipping down his face.
Natasha’s voice was caught in her throat. She wanted to say so many things to Tony right now. She wanted to fall to her knees and beg for his forgiveness. She wanted to cry and yell and scream and punch the ground for letting you- letting you trick her into jumping with you.
She wanted to do a lot of things, but she could only say one last thing before she tasted her tears streaming down her face.
“... It should’ve been me...”
#gender neutral reader#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff x male! reader#natasha romanoff x male reader#male! reader#natasha romanoff#male reader#x male reader#avengers#avengers x male reader#avengers x male! reader#avengers: endgame#avengers x reader#angst#reader insert#gn reader
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1, 2, 3, 4, and 9! :)c
1) Tell us about your current project(s) – what’s it about, how’s progress, what do you love most about it?
My two current projects that I am incredibly excited about are both longfics!
Danse Does Vegas is a 42k word fic with a lot of smut and character study, and it’s taken over a year from outline to current ready-to-post state, so it’s consumed a lot of time and mental energy! It started out purely as a tongue-in-cheek smut story with various things that I wanted Danse to learn about himself, from recognizing his own failures in communication, trying to break past patterns of behavior, and generally coping with the fact that Danse has indisputably done bad things, but is still trying to learn to do better.
During the outlining (and revision process) I ended up cutting some scenes that I really enjoyed (like Danse/FISTO and Danse/Cass) because I realized they didn’t match the overall thrust of the narrative, and in doing so I realized that it disproportionately tilted a number of the scenes to Danse/Keene, so it looked like that might be the eventual end-game of the fic. Which...it wasn’t, and it isn’t, but it was a lot of fun figuring out how I wanted to explore that dynamic without making it fall into my usual shippy tropes.
I love that it’s currently the most explicitly ‘kink with feeeeeelings’ thing that I’ve written, including a lot of things that I never wrote about before. Like humblers, CBT, and a gangbang scene.
A Most Edible Thistle is ~20k words of romance dramedy! I’ve started reading a lot of romances last year, and this was my first attempt at writing a shippy romance that had an actual vague plot instead of just feelings. (and smut) It’s about Josephine and Vivienne as business partners, spreading the joy of artichokes across Thedas! Also dealing with bandits! It’s very loosely based on the New York artichoke ban and was also an attempt to incorporate a lot of weird gastronomy and world-building through food.
It’s currently in its second draft (in progress), and I’m concerned about some of my pacing and trying to keep steady thematic elements throughout, as well as trying to make the swoopy finish feel earned rather than tacked on. A lot of the current conflict (besides the food crime) is about Josephine balancing how much she enjoys Orlais with her own misgivings about being consumed by an empire, and how Vivienne fails to see anything wrong with wanting to build an empire. They have decidedly different attitude towards conquest and social capital.
2) Tell us about what you’re most looking forward to writing – in your current project, or a future project
For future projects…? I really want to revisit Fallout, and I have a Preston/Keene idea that I really, really want to pursue. I figure it’s a nice contrast to Danse visiting Vegas, only this time it’s Keene getting pushed out of the Mojave after a Legion victory, and trying to find a new place to build a life. He’s angry, grieving, slightly traumatized (not that he’ll admit it) and trying very, very hard not to let himself be vulnerable.
Except Preston is just such a sweetheart and Keene finds himself falling for him even when he thinks they should both know better. Some mutual pining, character study, and a sex pollen scene I am very excited about writing because I want them to still have mutual pining even during a sex scene, since it’s a weird kind of emotional tension that I find fascinating!
3) What is that one scene that you’ve always wanted to write but can’t be arsed to write all of the set-up and context it would need? (consider this permission to write it and/or share it anyway)
I don’t know about ‘always’ wanted to write, but there’s a vague F!Trevelyan/Cullen fic that I’ve been kicking around for a bit. The outline is titled ‘Problematic Femdom’ and that’s it in a nutshell. It’s about Cullen getting hurt, getting hurt willingly, and coming back repeatedly because he thinks that pain is how one ‘earns’ forgiveness, how one ‘earns’ affection in this world. Except that this Trevelyan is very angry, very ruthless, and absolutely unforgiving when it comes to the systemic abuses of mages. It’s about Cullen growing to recognize his complicity in the power structures, but ultimately never being forgiven by a mage Inquisitor, with an emotional culmination where Trevelyan spits at him about how she was never his vehicle for redemption.
It’s pretty dark and I don’t even enjoy Cullen as a character, so I doubt I’ll ever actually write it. But it’s something I think about, from time to time.
4) Share a sentence or paragraph from your writing that you’re really proud of (explain why, if you like)
Cadash’s good graces means that word of artichokes soon spreads across Thedas—the Inquisitor eats artichokes, after all! They have always been popular in Antiva, but soon spread to Fereldan, Orlais, and the Free Marches. Queen Anora is reputed to serve them at her high table, and in hopefully unrelated news, the Randy Dowager herself declares them an aphrodisiac (“Five scarves fluttered out of five!”). Demand spikes after Varric’s latest novel includes a scene with Captain Abeline snacking on pickled artichoke hearts, and even reaches as far as Tevinter after Dorian abuses his ambassadorial privileges to acquire a shipment. At the Orlesian table, prices are driven as high as six sovereigns a crate!...and that is only to the farmers! The profit to be made by the merchants—mostly the Montilyets, thanks to Josephine’s careful schemes and control of the routes—is even higher.
This is an excerpt from A Most Edible Thistle, and even though I’m sure I’ll still tweak this before finishing the fic, I just like this one because it neatly compresses so much time and space to show how quickly artichokes have become the new culinary trend? It’s light-hearted, tongue-in-cheek, and shows the companions of Inquisition still on good terms with one another after the events of the main game.
9) Are you more of a drabble or a longfic kind of writer? Pantser or plotter? Do you wish you were the other?
This has changed over time! I’ve always had a loose sort of ‘plot’ (even if it was only a bulletpoint outline of sex acts I’d like to include in a kink fic) to help me write, but I’ve definitely shifted more into longfic. This has been a conscious choice on my part because even though I love writing shorter things, longfic really engages that meaty character development that I love. And as much as I love writing kink and smut, a lot of the kinks I’m more interested in writing require a baseline of trust and communication that can be harder to quickly establish in a short rarepair one-shot.
Thank you for asking, I enjoyed answering! :D
(Questions are from this meme!)
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‘Till Death do us part
I’m finally finished! I intended to post this on 2nd May, but school got in the way. Also, I got a little carried away while writing this.
Imagine: Your husband Severus Snape has died in the Battle of Hogwarts. Little do you know that he’s watching over you in afterlife.
Warnings: Angst, it’s very very sad (I cried while writing it)
Words: 2,101
May 3, 1998 One day after the day you lost him.
You were lying in your bed that you once shared with him, sobbing into your pillow and hugging his in an attempt to create the feeling of him cuddling with you and telling you that everything's going to be okay. You sniffled and spoke softly to him in the dark and empty room.
"Sev, you did it. Harry lives, Voldemort is defeated. Everything worked out because of you. The nightmare's over. But, I miss you."
"I miss you so so much." Those words reached him and hit right home. He was watching over you in afterlife, even though Dumbledore had advised him not to. But he couldn't leave you. He had promised to take care of you and protect you, and he would fulfill his promise even after death.
Severus felt his heart tightening in his chest, watching you grieve, tears streaming down your face. You didn't even try to silence the sobs that racked through your body. He felt just as sad about the now unbearable distance between the two of you.
He had always hoped for the end of the war to have the freedom of taking you anywhere you desired to go. The secrecy of your marriage limited him in options on where to take you on dates.
During the Battle of Hogwarts, he had lost sight of you and instead of worrying he settled on looking forward to the moment, he could hold you in his arms again. Feeling your warmth and knowing he was safe.
The moment he knew everything was alright and he could be content and peaceful for the first time of his life.
The moment he could declare to the world that you were his wife.
But sadly, that moment never came.
You both were now worlds away, only connected by your mutual sadness. Severus lost himself in his thoughts while watching your grieving form.
May 14, 1998 Twelve days after the day you lost him.
The day of his funeral had you crying harder. It was the day you had to finally part and bid farewell. The day you had to come to terms with his death. But how could you do that when it felt like a part of you was missing?
You sighed, while you stood in front of the mirror and fixed your black robes, then slipped your shoes on. It was time.
The funeral was a small one. Only Severus' closest friends came, including some of his students and the Order of the Phoenix. Even though Harry had spread the word of Severus' good deeds, some were still wary of him.
It took place in Hogsmeade, the place where he was now buried, along with the other heroes who died in the Battle of Hogwarts. So, if anyone else wanted to visit his grave, they could.
With a shaky breath, you stepped forward and turned to the little crowd to give the speech you had prepared. You didn't need your notes, because you memorized all your words; because these words came straight from your heart.
"Thank you all for being here to mourn the loss of Severus Tobias Snape and celebrate the life he led. I know that some of you had differences with him, so I am all the more thankful that you are here.
As Harry already told you, Severus was on our side and did everything in his power to ensure Voldemort's downfall. And he succeeded. He led an incredibly dangerous life as a double agent and I admire his courage and strength for that.
I am honored and privileged to have had him in my life, not only as a friend but as my loving husband. He has made every day in my life brighter and always managed to turn a bad day into a good one. I couldn't have asked for a better husband." You had to take a deep breath and blink the tears away. Minerva offered you a handkerchief that you gladly accepted.
Then you continued, "Severus may have acted grumpy and sarcastic all the time, but we all know that deep down he cared. We all had lovely moments with him, memories we will hold onto forever.
We will miss you and love you always."
You said the last part while directing your gaze into the sky in hopes that he would hear you.
And little did you know, that he did.
Severus Snape was a man who did not cry often. Emotions never got the best of him, but right now he was weeping and sobbing while Albus was patting him on the back and trying to console him. Albus did not admit it, but he also cried during his funeral. He felt honored to be the only person who got buried on Hogwarts grounds.
"Let's raise our wands in honor and memory of Severus Tobias Snape, former Professor for Defence Against the Dark Arts and former Headmaster. He was an exceptional Potions Master, a skilled Occlumens and an even greater man."
With that, you raised your glowing wand and many followed. The light from your wands illuminating Hogsmeade was like a ray of hope for you. Hope for better days to come.
The light from your wands illuminating Hogsmeade gave warmth for Severus. Knowing, that finally he was loved, he was cared for and safe. He felt the love and silent prayers, emitting from the light and felt tears welling up again.
The funeral ended, and most people left after giving you words of condolence and comfort. The only people remaining were Harry, Hermione, Minerva and you.
"I believe, we need to discuss the reconstruction of Hogwarts." Minerva started and sent you an apologetic look.
You shook your head, welcoming the distraction. "No, it's fine. We have to talk about it anyways."
After your conversation that went on for too long, you gladly apparated home and collapsed onto your bed. What an exhausting day.
May 17, 1998 Fifteen days after the day you lost him.
The smell of him became unbearable. Everything was too familiar. His house, his furniture, his scent. Everything reminded you too much of him, of your loss.
In a blind rage, you pushed all the pillows on the ground while tearing the sheets from the bed. Gathering the bed sheets and blanket, you made your way to the washing machine. After opening the door, you aggressively shoved the green cloth into the washer drum, determined to wash every bit of his scent out of it.
Shutting the door with a slam, you sank to the ground, your head and back leaning on the machine. You were sitting on the ground, arms around your knees, eyes closed. You gave a satisfied sigh when the machine came to life, gurgling and rattling happily behind your back.
You didn't feel them, but Severus saw the silent tears streaming down your face.
September 1, 1999 489 days after the day you lost him
It was the day Hogwarts finally opened again. Everything returned to its usual routine. You thought it was great to see the students again and some old friends return; Neville Longbottom as the Herbology professor, Slughorn as Potions Master and Hermione Granger as a student.
While you watched the sorting ceremony in awe, you didn't notice the four concerned glances directed to you.
Minerva had asked you beforehand if you were sure about wanting to continue your job as a professor. She was quite worried about you, though you brushed it off.
As the days went on, you realized that Minerva was right to voice her concerns. And even though you pretended to be fine your friends still noticed that you were not.
Horace noticed, how your hopeful face would always fall, whenever he opened the door to his office. Severus' former office.
Hermione noticed, how she often met you leaning against a wall, your eyes far far away. Remembering the moments, you shared with Severus.
Neville noticed, how you sometimes talked to him about the flowers you planted on Severus' grave. The flowers that failed to bloom.
Minerva noticed, how frequently you would visit her office with ridiculous excuses. Of course, she knew why, because she saw the way your face lit up whenever you noticed that Severus' portrait was awake. The knowing glances she exchanged with Albus when you happily chatted with the portrait.
Severus noticed everything you did behind closed doors in your chambers.
That you were using his quill to grade papers.
That sometimes you pull out the box under your bed and gaze fondly at the pictures of you two.
That sometimes you would cuddle with his pillow to fall asleep.
He noticed all the little things you did and it broke his heart.
May 2, 2000 Two years after the day you lost him.
You were on your way to Hogsmeade to visit Severus' grave. It was already late as you declined Minerva's offer to take the day off.
Upon arriving, you noticed that you weren't the only one that remembered to honor Severus. There were many candles, their dim light illuminating Hogsmeade along with the other candles.
That's when you remembered that you saw several students sneak out. Seeing that, you smiled. There weren't many people who attended his funeral, but there were many people that remembered him. People who came here alone to thank him for all the good he did. To thank him for all the lives he saved.
When you crouched down, you noticed that not only had the flowers you planted begun to bloom but there were other flowers among them. Neville had helped you learn the Language of the Flowers so that you could choose the perfect flowers for his grave. And seeing the meaning of the flowers that laid there, you knew who had put which flower there.
Chrysanthemums - the flower symbolizing love beyond death
Carnations - the flower symbolizing friendship and loyalty.
Orchids - the flower symbolizing admiration and cleverness.
White Tulips - the flower symbolizing forgiveness.
And a single Lily.
Bonus: If you moved on.
Severus wanted you to move on, to finally let go of him. Even though it would break his heart seeing you with another man, he knew it would make you happy. And happiness was all he wanted for you.
And you did move on.
You were running a few errands in the Muggle part of the town when you bumped into him. You didn't expect to hit it off with him immediately and him inviting you on a date.
When you got home from the date that evening, you were smiling wider than Severus had ever seen you after his death. He was happy for you and hoped with all his heart, that this relationship would work out and make you happy.
Severus was wary about him being a muggle, because of his bad experiences, but he hoped that you wouldn't end up like his mother.
But you didn't.
Your relationship progressed beautifully. After months and months of dating, you could feel yourself slowly falling in love again. And it was a glorious feeling.
He had asked you if you wanted to move in with him and after much consideration you accepted. You were ready to begin a new chapter of your life and leave your old life behind you. You sent owls to your friends and hoped they would understand. You were leaving their world; the world of magic that you loved.
But it was time to say goodbye. You were standing in the living room at Spinner's End which had been your home for so long, twisting your wand in your fingers. Then, with determination, you placed your wand on the shelves, where Severus wand had always lain.
One last glance and a whispered goodbye before you opened the door and stepped out. You shut the door firmly and locked it.
Maybe you'll return one day.
"Ready?" A voice behind you asked gently, prompting you to turn around.
You nodded, there was no hint of hesitation or doubt in your eyes anymore.
Severus also saw it. He, too, didn't feel torn anymore. He knew that he and the magic world would always have a special place in your heart.
Your boyfriend now had the job to care for you and protect you. It wasn't his anymore. He wished you all the best, and a bittersweet smile found its way to his lips.
"Goodbye, (Y/N)."
And with one last glance, he turned around to join Albus for tea.
"'Till we meet again."
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A Spell For The Grieving ~ j.w.w.
Summary: The love of your life has passed away, but you have found a spell that can bring him back to you for a small amount of time
Pairing: Wonwoo x Reader
!Warnings!: Death, small description of gore
Genre: Witch/Wizard!AU, mostly angst, very small fluff
Words: 1.5k
A/N: My first official one shot! I know I just posted that I was taking a break, but this idea came up in my head and I knew I had to write it. And it kept me distracted ;-;
The spell in which you needed to make was a difficult one. Ingredients like the tip of a turtle's tail and nectar of a bleeding heart were not sold in normal markets. On top of that, the directions were very specific; pour six cups of midsummer mist for four seconds while sitting on a silk cushion. What else could you expect from a resurrection spell? Or at least a form of one. A resurrection spell to bring someone back in a permanent living breathing body would take years of prep. The one you had settled with only brought the desired person back as a visible spirit for a few hours or so, but it was enough.
You met Wonwoo when you first moved into town and was exploring shops. He happened to be working in his aunt’s bookstore when you walked in. You only saw his eyes peeking out from behind the book he was reading. You thought he was charming. With his large glasses and friendly eyes, although the rest of his face was emotionless. Because of how close it was to your house, and because of the cute cashier, you became a regular at the bookstore, even though most of the time you weren’t buying anything.
Both of you could tell that there was a mutual interest in each other. Casual flirting and compliments made up most of your friendship. You had been first to confess your feelings, but only because he had cast a truth spell on you when he thought you were late to an outing because you were getting him a gift, but in fact, you were putting a little more time and effort into getting ready for him.
“_____, you’re already beautiful, please don’t try and impress me,” He chuckled in response to the fact coming out of your mouth, “and I feel the same about you, by the way,” He paused to put his hand delicately over yours and kept eye contact, “I really do.” He admitted, as his lips turned into a smile. “Is this considered a date now?” He laughed.
You were happy together. Everything was going great, until one afternoon where Wonwoo was walking to his job. Before he left, he had kissed you goodbye after staying the night at your apartment, not thinking it would be the last time he would feel your lips on his. To save time, he took a turn down an alleyway. He saw someone sitting in the middle of the narrow alley but continued to walk because the other route was too crowded.
“Excuse me, sir, I’ve got to get through.” He politely said. He was always kind, no matter who he was talking to. The man didn’t respond, so he assumed that he was asleep. He carefully stepped over him, but the man had already awoken. Startled, the man jumped up and grabbed Wonwoo’s ankle, pulling him forcefully into the ground. The abrupt and stern action caused him to hit his head on the pavement, cracking it open. Blood started to pool, and the man had realized what he had done. He later claimed to the police that it was self-defense. The paramedics said that Wonwoo was just barely alive when they got there. They did their best to try and save him, but your love was gone.
~~~
And now, here you were, trying to bring him back. You had spent countless days at his bookstore studying the afterlife. According to the books, his spirit could hear you when you said a simple spell, but he couldn’t see or respond to you. You would say the words to cast the spell so much that it was memorized. The ability to communicate with Wonwoo after he was dead interfered with your grieving process, but you didn’t care. You weren’t done loving him.
Preparing for the seance, you lit some candles and started boiling some water. You had practiced the spell so many times that your muscle memory took you through it. Cutting off the tip of the turtles tail, crushing the shed skin of a fire belly newt in a silver mortar and pestle, pouring in the midsummer mist, and more. Your hands shook as they carried the last step, dropping the bleeding heart’s nectar into the pan. As it fell you heard the wooshing of wind. You ran away from the pan, as the directions instructed to. The wind circled around the pan as if it was an epicenter, and soon it turned into vapor. You couldn’t see through it, but you still heard the wind roaring. The spell was going on longer than you expected. You called out Wonwoo’s name in desperation, hoping he would answer. Suddenly, the curtain of mist slowed and fell.
Standing where the mist was just rotating around, was Wonwoo, emitting a blooming light. Everything about him was the same as when you saw him last. Your eyes filled with tears as you started to remember the sight of his body being carried away on a stretcher. He was standing idle, it didn’t look like he was aware that you summoned him. You choked out his name through a sob. Immediately, he snapped out of his daze and looked over at you.
“_____. Oh my god.” He gasped. You carried yourself over to him, opening your arms, but you fell through him, feeling nothing but cold. Picking yourself off the ground, you turned around to him kneeling next to you, trying to help you up, but every time he touched you, his hands would disappear. You could feel a cold presence as if someone was holding ice above you where he was trying to touch you. His coolness followed his hand as it cupped your face.
“I’ve missed you so much,” You sobbed, barely even feeling the tears anymore, “it’s lonely here without you, you have no idea”
“Believe me jagi, I do.” He said sadly. “Don’t cry, please, I’m here now.” He pleaded. But you couldn’t help the mess you were. He had left without saying goodbye, and you finally had the chance to see him again.
“Did you hear my messages? I’ve been sending them every day.” You frantically asked. He nodded, and kissed your cheek, even though you could barely feel it. You took a big shaky breath, happy that he knew you were still there for him. “Can you feel me?” You asked.
“Kind of,” he sighed, “It’s… I don’t know how to explain it. It’s like I can feel your… aura, if that makes sense, your warmth.” You let out a relieved breath, trying to control yourself. You took a second, just to look at him and take in his celestial appearance.
“You look horrible, baby,” He remarked, “Don’t tell me I did this to you.” The corners of his mouth turned down into a frown. You turned your head to look in the vanity behind him. In the mirror, the only thing you saw was your mournful appearance and no Wonwoo in front of you. Your face was bare with bags under your eyes, and your hair was in a messy ponytail, the hair tie almost falling out. You shook your head, not wanting to tell him the truth.
“You can’t bring this up now Wonwoo,” you cried “I may never see you again,” Tears started to form in his eyes, “please, please, I just want you right now, I need you.”
“This isn’t healthy, _____,” He bit his lip and closed his eyes, making all the tears fall down his cheeks, “you’ve got to let me go.”
You felt your breath get caught in your chest and you tried to protest. You brought your arm up to grab his t-shirt as if you were expecting it to be solid, but it fell through.
“I have to go, jagi.” He cried. You let out a pathetic whine, taking all your energy to sit up. He stood and walked back to where you had started the seance. The wind started to pick up again
“Please, Wonu, please don’t leave me. I’ve barely lasted this long without you.” You yelled, trying to crawl towards him. He looked at you, with tears rolling down his face. You both were a mess. He was your rock, your safe place.
“You don’t know how hard it is to live without the love of my life, I have to go every day without you!” He couldn’t hear you over the wind. He was almost gone, vanishing slowly. You pushed your way through the vapor that had appeared again. He was there but standing idle again.
“Look at me, goddamnit!” You screamed through the weather. “You’re all I have Wonwoo, please.” You pleaded, the emotions running through you changing within a second. You tried to hug him, to get him to stay but your body stumbled into the floor, not even feeling the coldness of him anymore. You looked up, through the cloud of the mist and tears. He left you.
You didn’t care how long it would take. You were going to start the permanent resurrection spell.
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