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zuko-always-lies · 3 years

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So, question, because I see people saying it often that Iroh has the right to feel animosity towards Azula because she made fun of/derided Lu Ten's death (or something like that), but does she actually do that in that scene? Or does she express disdain for Iroh's reaction, which considering the culture could easily be interpreted as Iroh being the one to make light of it? (Pretty sure there's at least one instance in _Romance of the Three Kingdoms_ where one character absolutely annihilates an opposing force because his brother/father/friend dies, if we want a real-world example of the mentality. Or, like, all of _The Hagakure_.)

Does Azula call Lu Ten a coward for dying? Or does she say that Iroh is for not "getting justice" or revenge for his son's death? For not finishing the task and abandoning the cause Lu Ten died for?

Because one of these means Iroh's dislike could be justified (nevermind the fact that he wasn't present for this conversation, so if he knew about it, he would have only heard about it from Zuko). But the other is an angry/disappointed/disgusted child calling an adult out.

Good question! I think I should start by talking about what Zuko and Azula actually say about Iroh.

"The Western Air Temple"(featuring 13 year old Zuko!):

Iroh: (Iroh looks on, concerned) Prince Zuko, it's only been a week since your banishment. (Cut to a far back view shot of the 2) You should take some time to heal and rest. Zuko: (turns around and raises his voice) What else would I expect to hear from the laziest man in the Fire Nation? (Cut to a close up of Iroh's slightly appalled face as he looks down and sighs) The only way (Cut back to a frontal shot of uncle and nephew) to regain my honor is to find the Avatar. So I will.

"The Headband":

Zuko: (standing at the bars) You brought this on yourself, you know. We could have returned together. You could have been a hero! (Iroh turns a shade further away from Zuko.) You have no right to judge me Uncle. I did what I had to do in Ba Sing Se, and you're a fool for not joining me. (Iroh is silent.) You're not gonna say anything? (Enraged, he kicks a stool and bends a blast of fire at the wall.) Argh! You're a crazy old man! You're crazy, and if you weren't in jail, you'd be sleeping in a gutter!

Zuko says some pretty negative things about Iroh, right to Iroh's face!

Now, what negative things does 14 year old Azula say about Iroh? Surprisingly little, even though she clearly doesn't like him. She implicitly calls him a traitor a couple times(during times when he is, in fact, a traitor by all reasonable definitions), but never really explicitly does so. Beyond that, there's very little. This is the only thing I can think of:

Azula: So...I hear you've been to visit your Uncle Fatso in the prison tower. Zuko: (standing, incensed) That guard told you.

Which is actually way less harsh than what Zuko says about Iroh! If anything, Azula's behavior in the present suggests that she only rarely criticized, much less mocked Iroh's behavior to his face when she was younger.

Now let's turn to the meat of your question, "Zuko Alone." There are two scenes in that episode where Azula criticizes Iroh. The first comes before Lu Ten's death:

Ursa: "And for Azula, a new friend. She wears the latest fashion for Earth Kingdom girls." (As Ursa speaks, Azula picks up a doll wearing Earth Kingdom green. The Princess makes a face of disgust.) Azula: If Uncle doesn't make it back from war, then dad would be next in line to be Fire Lord, wouldn't he? (In the background, Zuko runs around practicing with his new dagger.) Ursa: (disappointed) Azula, we don't speak that way. It would be awful if Uncle Iroh didn't return. And besides, Fire Lord Azulon is a picture of health. Zuko: How would you like it if cousin Lu Ten wanted dad to die? Azula: I still think our dad would make a much better Fire Lord than (looking at the doll with disdain) his royal tea loving kookiness. (She holds out the doll and makes its head burst into flame. The screen flashes white and the flashback ends.

There are several things which seem to be driving Azula's actions here. The first is a reaction to the massive favoritism Iroh just showed toward Zuko. The second is a belief, no doubt inspired by Ozai's poisonous statements about his brother, that Ozai, who Azula idolizes, would make a better Firelord than Iroh. Finally, Azula is a confused child who is asking inappropriate questions because she's too young to understand proper boundaries. Nothing she says here is actually that serious, and I would expect a responsible adult(i.e. not Ursa) to either shrug it off, or to carefully reason with Azula in order to explain why what she is saying is problematic.

Now we turn to the other main scene, the one right after Lu Ten's death, and the one you probably actually wanted me to talk about:

Azula: (getting up and walking over to him) By the way, Uncle's coming home. Zuko: Does that mean we won the war? Azula: No. It mean's Uncle's a quitter and a loser. Zuko: What are you talking about? Uncle's not a quitter. Azula: Oh yes, he is. He found out his son died and he just fell apart. (leaning against a nearby pillar) A real general would stay and burn Ba Sing Se to the ground, not lose the battle and come home crying. Zuko: (angry) How do you know what he should do? (looking down, sadly) He's probably just sad his only kid is gone... forever.

You might note that, again, Azula doesn't say anything negative about Lu Ten. You've already noted that Iroh is thousands of miles away at the moment, so having him be "justified" in his hatred of Azula by a conversation he didn't hear doesn't make sense.

Azula is also very angry in this scene, quite possibly the angriest we ever see her at any point. That does suggest that she's taking what's happened, either Lu Ten's death or the abandonment of the siege, very personally. I don't know enough to comment specifically on this, but you are right in that there might be cultural background which specifically proscribes the achievement of vengeance as being of particular importance, and Azula is thus outraged that Iroh failed to fulfill his duty to his son.

But that not at the core of Azula's critique here. What Azula is attacking Iroh for is that he responded to a personal loss by abandoning his duty in the heat of battle, and she is 100% right on this, not only by the standards of Fire Nation cultural but also by the standards of modern western culture. Fun fact: Abraham Lincoln, Jefferson Davis, and Robert E. Lee(screw the latter two, but that's another story) all suffered the loss of children they dearly loved in the middle of the American Civil War, yet none of them abandoned their duty. Archibald Roosevelt(another problematic figure) had two brothers die in WWII, yet he continued fighting on the front line. John W. Geary literally had his son die in his arms in the middle of battle, yet he continued commanding his unit well enough to prevail. Hell, we can even turn to Joseph Stalin here, to some extent.

Again, the core of what Azula says here is absolutely correct. Iroh is a "quitter" because he responded to Lu Ten's death by falling apart and abandoning the siege when it seemed on the brink of success, rather than continue the operation until victory. I don't think we need to go further than that to establish that Azula is entirely justified calling Iroh out here. And again, she doesn't criticize or mock Lu Ten at all, instead only attacking Iroh's reaction to Lu Ten's death.

#Azula #Iroh #Ultranos #ask #anti-iroh #Zuko #Zuko Alone #Ursa

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haleigh-sloth · 2 years

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Currently, I stopped watching MHA manga review podcasts of different YouTubers cause the only thing that comes out of their mouth is - "Shiggy, Toga and Spinner are getting redeemed... Dabi's gonna die in the end..."

Of course, Shoto and the whole Todoroki family are working together to bring Touya back home and obviously they won't want him to burn himself again and die for real this time... But I'm wondering what Touya wants actually??? Cause everyone says that he's acting like he doesn't want to be saved and redeemed, so how will Horikoshi sensei turn the table and make Touya feel like he wants to be saved???

Well, firstly, yeah don’t listen to YouTube fandom or any of those people. They’re just, wrong. I have not seen a single take on YouTube that was decent or a single prediction on YouTube that has come true.

Now—

What does Touya want?? He clearly wants to kill his dad and die in the process. Obviously that’s not good, so Touya isn’t going to get what he wants.

Now—it’s really not hard to turn the tables. Of course Touya doesn’t want to be saved. He doesn’t even view that as an option.

Putting aside Shigaraki—who is a special case:

Toga and Touya and Spinner do not view their circumstances as something they can get out of.

Touya has no vision for himself and his life beyond killing his dad and dying with him. Toga has no idea that Ochacko is thinking of the harm her words caused Toga during their scuffle, and Spinner has no idea about any of the kids and their inner thoughts toward the LOV. Being saved? That’s not even an idea they could entertain right now.

All of the LOV/UA kid dynamics are one-sided. The LOV don’t know the kids want to save them. So why do people expect the LOV to act like they want to be saved?

Toga has expressed some deep interest in the UA kids multiple times throughout the story, and she finally made one (1) attempt at spilling her guts out to one of them (Ochacko), and it didn’t go how she had hoped. So why would Toga entertain the idea of Ochacko changing her mind now?

Touya sees Shouto doing everything he was supposed to do, everything Endeavor wanted Shouto to do. Now Touya doesn’t know the internal battle Shouto has been fighting since his introduction to the story, but still all he sees is Shouto: Touya’s successful replacement. So I mean, why would Touya realistically express any interest in being saved?

Now Shigaraki—he’s the ONLY villain where their dynamic is reciprocated. But even with Shigaraki it’s still deep, deep down at his core. He can’t even express that desire to be saved outwardly because he’s still hurt and angry, and he still doesn’t actually KNOW Midoriya is thinking about him as a person to save rather than kill or beat. And his anger and hatred is winning over his core. But Tenko’s entire character is based off the fact that he’s wanted a hero to be a part of his life since he was a little kid. That desire never went away.

Literally none of the LOV “want” to be saved. To Touya, the idea of his family wanting him back is just out of the question. To Toga, she tried to reach out and her hero didn’t pick up on the hint, so she spiraled further into her grief. To Shigaraki, he’s only good for destroying, why would anybody save him? This is the outward thinking of the LOV because they have no reason to think otherwise. But once they’re shown a reason to think differently, they will ACT differently.

#bnha #shigaraki tomura #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #shimura tenko #todoroki touya #toga himiko #Dabi #bnha asks #bnha league of villains #bnha lov

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lloydskywalkers · 3 years

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chrysanthemum

1/2 of the fics i wrote for the 10th anniversary zine!! if you haven’t checked it out yet please do @ninjaneverquit-zine , everyone worked so hard and did such a wonderful job, i’m beyond honored to have been included <3

I may not have been in the fandom since the start, but ninjago means the world to me - it’s gotten me through some of the worst times and pushed further in writing than i thought i’d go, and the fandom’s been a particularly bright light in my life since i’ve joined 💕and of course i can’t not celebrate that by writing for the light of my life lloyd garmadon, so here’s me crying over the garmadons anniversary-style :’D

Garmadon’s son has only been on the earth for twenty-four hours, and he’s only been Lloyd for nineteen, but he already finds himself terrified of the tiny, living thing he cradles in his arms.

“He’s so small,” he tells Misako, eyebrows furrowed in concern. “Is he supposed to be this small?”

Misako, who’s been answering questions similar to this for the better part of the morning, rolls her eyes. “He’s fine, Garmadon. He was born a little early, that’s all.”

Not as reassured as he should be, Garmadon returns his gaze to his son. He’s sleeping now, deathly still in his arms, and he resists the urge to wave a hand over his tiny face, if only to feel the small puffs of breath he knows must be there. He brushes a wisp of hair from his head instead, marveling at how pale it is.

“He’s got my father’s hair,” he murmurs.

“I don’t care, Garmadon, we’re still not naming him after the man.”

It’s Garmadon’s turn to roll his eyes. “I never said that. I said Montgomery was an unacceptable name to burden my son with.”

“Oh, your son.”

He misses the rest of her retort as Lloyd fidgets briefly, tiny features screwing up as he shifts. A flash of lightning from outside brightens the room, and Garmadon pulls Lloyd closer reflexively. The thunder crack follows soon after, and Garmadon flinches, the thick smell of rain filtering through the open windows. He can already see thick droplets sliding down the hydrangeas Misako’s growing in the windowsill, drowning the pale flowers. It’s been pouring all week, typhoons hitting the coast with gusto as they always do this time of year. Garmadon doesn’t like it — his son is much more suited for the sun and all its brightness, not the grey-skied downpour of thunderclouds.

Lloyd hardly reacts to the downpour, having gone still and silent in his arms once again. Garmadon’s heartbeat quickens. He shouldn’t sleep this much, should he? He doesn’t remember Wu being like that, but he was so young when Wu was born, and it was so long ago, and he can’t feel for Lloyd’s breathing now because the breeze pouring through the window’s too strong, and—

A soft hand sets on his shoulder. “Here,” Misako sighs, guiding Garmadon’s hand to rest gently over Lloyd’s chest. “Feel. That’s a heart, going strong.”

Despite his hesitance, a deep-rooted part of him still desperately afraid his touch might hurt something so small, Garmadon does so. Lloyd’s heartbeat is rapid and as fragile as a bird’s wing, but undeniably there. A small, living thing.

Something warm curls in his chest, and Garmadon thinks he might understand his father’s delight in creation — in things that live.

Not, of course, that his father has ever created anything so perfect as Lloyd, but Garmadon can credit him for having tried.

* * *

It’s weird, having a dad.

Not the concept of having a dad — Lloyd’s bragged enough about being the son of Lord Garmadon to at least get that part. But actually having him here, a living, breathing person who looks at Lloyd and cares—

It’s weird, that’s all. Not that it’s a bad weird.

“You need to wrap your hands, before you go hitting things like that,” Garmadon scolds gently, twisting gauze around Lloyd’s bruised, swollen fingers. “The others can show you how, for training. They should have shown you earlier.”

Lloyd bites his lip. He doesn’t tell his dad that the bruises are less from training, and more from pointlessly banging on bars in an attempt to get on Pythor’s nerves. It sounds silly, compared to the way his dad swept in like a big hero and took out all the snakes in single swipes.

A big hero. Lloyd wonders if the others will ever see him that way, too.

His hand twinges as the gauze pulls tight, and Lloyd sucks in a sharp breath. Garmadon flinches, drawing his hands back.

“I’m sorry,” he says, quickly. “I keep forgetting — you’re so small.”

Lloyd makes a face at that. Small? “I’m not that short,” he grumbles. “I’ve grown lots.”

“Of course you have,” Garmadon amends. “I only—”

His expression twists, and Lloyd’s stomach drops. There’s that look again.

“I’m sorry,” Garmadon repeats, sounding downtrodden.

Lloyd purses his lips. For all his bragging, he’s never really thought much about whether he likes his family or not. It’s hard, when you don’t have one around to like. Watching the way his dad worries and his uncle walks around all stone-faced now, Lloyd’s not sure he should like it. He likes Uncle Wu, of course, and he loves his dad, but—

He hates the way they all walk around like they’re preparing for a funeral. His dad’s funeral, his funeral, whichever it ends up being. It’s stupid. Lloyd’s lived on the streets for months, and in Darkley’s even longer. He wouldn’t have minded walking around like he’s doomed for misery then.

But now? When he’s got people who care, and a family?

Lloyd sets his mouth stubbornly. He doesn’t know much about destiny, or the prophecy, but he knows he’s not about to lose this. Not when he’s come so far, when he’s so close to having — to being someone worth having around.

No funerals, Lloyd promises himself. He can see this prophecy through — they both can, the two of them. You have to be alive to be a family, right?

“It’s okay,” he finally replies. “I’m alright, dad.”

And he’s gonna stay that way.

* * *

When Garmadon had thought about the final battle in the past, he’d expected the darkness. The destruction, the pain.

He hadn’t expected to survive.

“So you’re really giving up fighting, then?”

Glancing up at Lloyd, taller now yet still small enough to not quite fit his bright golden gi, Garmadon finds survival a very welcome surprise.

“Yes,” he says, returning his gaze to the flowerbeds Misako’s helped him put in the monastery garden. They’re coming along well, despite the recent fits of bad weather, and they do a fine job of making the monastery look homey. Unthreatening.

He hopes, at least.

“I think I’ve done enough fighting, for my part,” he continues. He gives Lloyd a wry look. “I’m not sure Ninjago could take much more of it from me, anyways.”

“I dunno,” Lloyd says. “It’s been getting pretty boring.”

Garmadon snorts. “Boring is something you should appreciate, son. Excitement isn’t always good.”

“No, but it isn’t bor—dull,” Lloyd mutters, crouching down to study the flowerbeds. Garmadon shakes his head in reply, sighing. He remembers being his son’s age once, yearning for the next thrill, even if it feels ages away now.

He’s got a whole lecture on appreciating the quiet moments on the tip of his tongue, too, when Lloyd speaks up again.

“We used to have these flowers at Darkley’s,” he says, tilting his head as he studies them. “Some of the boys tore them all up and threw ‘em at the window, but they were pretty before that."

Garmadon bites the inside of his cheek, his eyebrows furrowing. His expression softens as he spots the gentle way Lloyd handles the flower, carefully pushing it back to place. It never fails to baffle him how someone as gentle as Lloyd could’ve come from his beginnings, much less from Garmadon, but he treasures it.

“Snapdragons,” Garmadon says, instead. “Fitting flowers, for our family.”

Lloyd looks at him curiously, eyes bright with the light of suspicion, and Garmadon is tempted to tell him the full truth, then and there. But Lloyd is still so young, innocent and naive and barely come to terms with his place as the Green Ninja. The truth of their blood is a heavy one, and Garmadon can’t find it in himself to lay it on Lloyd’s shoulders today. No, his son is happy among humans, so a human he’ll let him be. Someday he’ll know he’s more, closer to the dragons he admires than he realizes, but not quite yet.

Miraculously, Garmadon has the time, now.

“If you stay after dinner, I can show you how they’re planted,” he offers. Lloyd nods, and Garmadon’s smile widens.

Destruction is in his blood, and he’d be blind to say it isn’t in Lloyd’s as well. Power is power, whether it’s bright and beautiful or stained in darkness, and Lloyd could shatter mountains as well as move them, if he wanted.

But Lloyd never moves to pull the flowers up, only watches them rustle slightly in the breeze, leaving them to grow a little bigger, a little brighter. Garmadon, for his part, watches his son, all bright eyes and the burnished gold hair of his grandfather, and reminds himself that one needs not be a master of creation to appreciate life.

* * *

Lloyd likes to think of himself as an optimist, for the most part. He’s at least good at pretending that he is one, with how many times he’s had to convince himself it’s worth it to get back up.

Right now, he’s trying to remember how he’s ever managed to convince himself, because this time, getting back up seems impossible.

Lloyd used to wonder, back during Morro, how far you had to push yourself to break like that. How far someone had to push you, to truly splinter. He thinks he might have found his answer, though his is less of a bitter hatred and more of an empty abyss of hurt.

It hurts to breathe. That would be a sign that something’s wrong, if Lloyd didn’t already have about sixty other signs that he’s in trouble. But the breathing thing is sticking out to him especially, right now. His lungs feel like they’re scraping against his ribs every time he tries to draw breath, bruised and stinging, and there’s a deep ache in his chest that grows worse by the minute.

He tries swallowing again, sand scraping down his throat as he does. He hisses out a breath instead of coughing, almost frightened that his lungs will give out completely if he does.

He says almost, because Lloyd isn’t sure what emotions he’s got left to feel anymore.

A lie. Pain starts numb, sometimes.

Lloyd’s chest spasms as he sucks in another breath, and he wishes the desert would swallow him whole. His father — his real father, who pushed him from the Cursed Realm and told him to return to light and living — would want him to stand back up. He’d beg him to, stress the importance of continuing on, of persevering. Stuff like that.

But if it wasn’t for his father, Lloyd wouldn’t have to get back up in the first place. If it wasn’t for his father, Lloyd wouldn’t be—

His eyes burn, stinging as he squeezes them tightly shut, and he tells himself it’s the sand.

Instead, he focuses on the ragged beat of his heart. He only knows it’s there because his chest throbs in pain with every pulse, but he latches onto the feeling and holds tight.

Still alive, he tells himself, even as every bit of him sings in agony and his lungs scream at him to stop. He’s still alive. His powers aren’t answering him but they will, he knows they will, he can’t disappear like he did with Morro. He can’t — he can’t leave it, not like this, not with his father — not like this. If he can’t stop Harumi, if he can’t save his father, if he can’t do anything else at all, he can at least do this.

Stay alive. Stay alive. Stay alive.

He’s never realized how long the nights out here are, before.

* * *

After everything, the light dies down and the Oni vanish, and Lloyd’s heart stops.

It shouldn’t be a surprise to Garmadon, who isn’t even sure his own heart beats now, but it is.

It’s not supposed to stop. There was a promise made, somewhere, to keep it beating.

It restarts before he has the chance to process what that even means, and the swell of relief is so foreign, Garmadon leaves before he even has the chance to ask Lloyd what he’d seen. He thinks to himself, that will be the end of it. The end of whatever tentative connection he has with the boy, whatever frayed and tattered threads of something they once had. Better to cut them away for good.

Lloyd’s not one to let things die, though. Garmadon should know that at least, the boy tells him.

“I know you like repeating yourself,” he mutters. “Letting go is different.”

“That’s not what this is,” Lloyd huffs back.

Garmadon rolls his eyes, the two of them drifting aimlessly down the Ninjago City garden paths. It’s secluded, the rest of the city still recovering, and Garmadon’s grateful for the quiet, even if it is awkward. Building any kind of bridge with the boy is difficult, if only because Lloyd stresses that they’re rebuilding a bridge, and Garmadon has no memory of any bridge to begin with.

He’s still sifting through jumbled emotions, sorting out what his place in this world was and is supposed to be, but he knows that the word son slips easier from his mouth than daughter ever did, so he figures he’s on the right path, at least.

“It’s about—” Lloyd pauses, his expression contorting. “It’s about surviving, I guess,” he grinds out.

Garmadon’s mouth curls into a grin. “Really. You were quite…vocal, that it was about more than that.”

“It is, it’s just—” Lloyd cuts off again, stopping them in a half-ruined section of garden still littered with remnants of concrete. “It’s the payoff, you know? Here.”

He bends down, brushing dust from a surviving scattering of flowers. He gently touches the edge of a petal, pushing the flower head toward the sun. “See?” he says. “After all that, it’s still alive.”

Garmadon stares at the delicate edges of the petal, smaller and more fragile than any of the buildings that crumbled beneath his rule. At Lloyd’s nod, he stretches his own fingers out toward it, his hand impossibly dark and calloused next to his son’s own small one. But he brushes his fingers over the petal edge nonetheless, almost surprised that it doesn’t decay beneath his touch. It’s soft, he notes, like the fragile skin of a newborn. Odd that it should’ve survived, out of everything else that perished.

“So it is,” he says, carefully. Lloyd says nothing, but there’s a ghost of a smile around his lips. They must make an odd sight, the pair of them crouched in the dirt in the recovering garden. There’s no use in sitting here and looking at the flower, no explanation Garmadon can offer himself, but he doesn’t leave. He can take the moment, he decides, to appreciate what Lloyd is trying to show him.

They too, after all, are still alive.

#lego ninjago #ninjago #lloyd garmadon #garmadon #my fic #oh nO im getting emotional now

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vivithefolle · 3 years

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Hi Vivi, can you share some thoughts on the "Hermione deserves to be/should have married to XYZ because she is way too good for Ron" mentality of this fandom??

I’m gonna copy-paste a Quora answer of mine, because recycling is important!

Claiming that Ron is “out of Hermione’s league” is a statement rooted in sexism, classism and probably a bunch of other -isms.

It might seem like I’m just throwing buzz-words around but let me explain.

First off, the sexism.

Oh, the sexism.

As I’ve pointed it out in yet another one of my answers (I’m so sorry for drowning you all in a plethora of links), Ron is very much a female-coded male character.

Ron is emotional, wears his heart on his sleeve, has anxieties and inadequacies, walks off in order to cool down, has a temper, puts other people before his needs, and pretty much adopts Harry when he rescues him in the second book. He’s the Heart of the Trio: he doesn’t rely on sole logic, he can believe something without proof, he is sensitive and thus is the easiest to hurt emotionally.

Whether you call it a “beta male”, a “wuss”, “defying gender roles” or a “soft boy” is your own business, but the core of it is that Ron doesn’t meet the standards for people’s vision of a “desirable” masculine figure.

The little things Ron quietly performs in the books - when he helps Harry into his pyjamas in Chamber of Secrets because Harry’s arm is bloop; when he’s worrying about Hermione’s whereabouts in Prisoner of Azkaban; when he helps Harry unwind after his visions in Goblet of Fire; when he puts food onto Harry’s plate and wakes him up from his nightmares in Order of the Phoenix; when he beams that Hermione was “perfect, obviously” when she passes her Apparition test - all those caring gestures don’t seem like much, but if you bother to think about it, they paint an enormous picture.

Who gets Hermione to stop overworking while making her feel good about her accomplishments? Who comforts Harry from his nightmares and cares for him in the dead of the night, when nobody is awake? Who makes sure his friends are healthy and happy? Who wards off the dark and depressing thoughts, be it with his fists or a joke?

It’s Ron.

When you think about it, “traditional masculinity” in Harry Potter is as much frowned upon as “traditional feminity” is - which sometimes bites Rowling in the butt when you remember how she obviously seems to consider that Hermione and Ginny are the only desirable kind of girls.

Vernon Dursley? The entrepreneur “king of the household” prejudiced suburbian middle-class Dad? Fits in the usual tropes of traditional masculinity.

Dudley Dursley? The typical “boys will be boys” spoiled middle-class only child who’s the apple of his parents’ eyes and even takes up boxing, as if he wasn’t traditionally masculine enough.

Draco Malfoy? See Dudley, but toss in “upper-class posh aristocrat bully who doesn’t like to get his hands dirty so he has henchmen do it for him because he’s too rich for this sh-t”, would remind you of a few Christian Greys or Gatsbys.

Dolores Umbridge? Oh no, cat pictures, decorative plates, talks to teens as if they’re babies and PINK, SO MUCH PINK!!! So disgustingly feminine!!

Rowling very much frowns upon traditional gender roles - with Molly Weasley being an exception because Rowling feels very strongly about being a mother, and relates to Molly a lot.

Right - so, being a beautiful mess of paradoxes and contradictions (a “soft boi” who also punches bullies in the face, a fussy mother-hen who swears like a sailor, a tall athlete with badass scars on his arms who’s nurturing and sweet; in short, a wonderfully human character), Ron is obviously going to be a polarizing character. You painfully relate to him and get defensive when he’s criticized, you feel his characterization hits a bit too close to home so you hate him, or you disregard him completely because you can’t see anything “special” about him…

Now, onto another very, very sexist point that is often made.

People say that Hermione “deserves better” than Ron, often claiming that they “aren’t intellectual equals”, then citing Harry (who is mistaken as being some sort of slumbering genius but honestly, the kid is really a bit daft) or Draco (since apparently, being rich must equal to being intelligent) or, god forbid, Snape (because he’s a teacher and teachers are meant to be clever).

Soooo, I could go the loooooong way and pull out all the receipts that prove that none of these characters are perfectly intellectually matched to Hermione…

Or I could go the long way and simply give you this: this obsession with finding an “intellectual equal” for Hermione reflects the mentality of “women are not allowed to be better at something than their husband”.

Yep.

A woman has to be all-around pretty good at everything, whereas a man has to be the absolute best in his area of greatest competence (surely better than any puny female!) with a help-meet there to compensate for his weaknesses. People are very, very uncomfortable when Ron and Hermione reverse this dynamic. Hermione is extremely intelligent and dedicated to intellectual pursuits, but is complete pants at things like self-care and people skills. Ron is bright enough to keep up with her and strong in her areas of weakness.

Even if Ron was as dumb as a sack of rocks (he’s not), his other virtues are more than enough to “justify” Hermione loving him. (Because she needs an excuse?) But no. A woman has to be with a man who outdoes her in her area of greatest strength. - credit to @lytefoot

People don’t want Hermione to be with a man who’s her “equal.” They want her to be with a man who can be The Man so she can know the contentment of being The Woman.

But, with this sexist line of thought, how do we justify how Ron is supposed to be such a bad match for Hermione? Because if it was just about mere sexism, Romione would surely be more popular. Imagine! Ron happily raising the children, being a house-husband and proud of it, while Hermione is out there fighting for justice in the wizarding world! What a power-couple, defying norms and gender roles and not being the least bit conscious of it, prime OTP material for sure! So why do people still want Hermione to put Harry, Draco, or god forbid², Snape in Ron’s place? Is this an irrational hatred of redheads? An Harmionian’s delirious wet dream? A failure to separate the actors from their characters?

It’s all this and, quite frankly, something more: the inherent classism that comes with Ron’s status as an explicitly working-class coded character.

I know, I know, “Vivian! Calm down with the buzzwords, you’re starting to sound like an online pretend-feminist magazine!”

Or “Come on, people who don’t ship Ron and Hermione together aren’t all sexist or classist!”

Of course, of course! I know that! I’m not implying that!

But some of the “reasons” why they claim that Ron and Hermione can’t work - are extremely classist in nature, that’s just it!

Come on, think about it! What are the Number Ones arguments people always pull against Ron? Or the most common Ron-bashing tropes (look at fanfics and watch the number of stories that use at least one of those)?

Ron is stupid/mediocre

Ron is lazy/useless

Ron resents his wife’s hard work/success

Ron is a homophobe

Ron is a drunkard

Ron (the big prude who at 16 had never kissed a girl and sees a first kiss as the prelude to a wedding) is massively oversexed and cheats on Hermione with anything that moves

Not only do these “reasons” completely ignore ALL OF RON’S CHARACTERIZATION - except for the “lazy” bit but come off it, all teenagers are lazy and Hermione’s the exception to the rule - but it matches perfectly with the negative stereotypes associated with working-class white men in fiction.

It’s also very funny to note how many (assumedly middle-class or financially secure) fans look down on Ron for being “whiny” or “greedy” when he expresses the desire to have money of his own, or blame his parents for “not knowing when to stop” or “being irresponsible”, or even look down on them for being “too proud to accept help”!! Also how shocked people are when Ron dares to stand up for himself when Hermione or Harry act badly towards him. How dare this country boy not listen to the wisdom of his social “betters”?

So, obviously, because our Heroine can’t go with a Nasty, Mediocre Working-Class Man, she must be paired off with someone of Proper Status: say, a Hero that was raised in a middle-class home and might be a bit psychologically damaged but it’s nothing all those gold coins in his vault can’t fix; or this Rich Posh Aristocrat who actively rooted for her death, he’s a little bit eccentric and has some exotic pet-names to call you, but I’m sure you’ll learn to love him and will unearth the gold coins in his bank account… I mean, the heart of gold that lies within the surface; oh, why not a Way Too Big An Age Difference Teacher if you’re looking for a “cultured man” who has zero things in common with you; we can also bring Convenient Plot Device Famous Rich Foreign Athlete if you want some diversity and you don’t feel original!

But we can’t - oh, we mustn’t let her be with this Terrible Working-Class Boy! His brothers are fine, they have money, they have jobs, so they’re obviously Not As Mediocre. But let our precious Hermione be with this Just-Got-Out-Of-School hooligan? She can’t possibly be in love with him! You’ll see darling, you’ll get bored eventually! He’s too mediocre for you, you deserve a man who outclasses you - I mean, who can provide for you! You’re a fragile little flower who scars people for life when she’s not happy with them, what makes you think that this boy can possibly handle you even though he’s done so for the past seven years?

You wanted it, you got it.

People are shallow, have misconceptions about Ron’s character that they are unwilling to correct or use classist and sexist arguments to try to make it so that either Ron is the Devil himself / Hermione is a higher kind of being that can only orgasm if sufficiently “intellectually stimulated” / what-have-you.

#vivi answers #ask #ron weasley #hermione granger #romione #ron weasley defense squad #ron weasley defence squad #sexism #classism #hp meta #fandumb #hp fandom

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kookie-doughs · 3 years

Text

Y/N L/N AND THE HALFBLOODS

Percy Jackson X Reader

-Y/N L/N met Percy Jackson and everything was now ruined.

CHAPTER 20: Front Row Seat

Hades was nice. Really nice. I had no idea why they kicked him off Olympus. I think he deserves the world. It was adorable since the three.. four I should correct, of us sat on the floor.

During my short time here, he had reassured me that Me and Mrs. Jackson will not die. He was nice enough to take care of D/N as well. He had even given him Cerberus's old collar. I think he's attached, he couldn't really keep Cerberus here after all.

"Why was Mrs. Rudolph set on me since I was a kid?" I finally asked.

"When you were born... I knew... something was off with you."

"You're the god of the dead not life." I retorted meaner than I thought.

"I couldn't see your life expectancy. I could see you living forever." He stated. "I can sense when one is about to die and when they will. But looking at you I couldn't see anything."

"Woah, I wonder if I'm never going to die. Does it have anything to do with my parent?"

"No." Mrs. Jackson interjected. "That has nothing to do with who your parent is. Since all gods and goddesses has more than one child and none of them are like you. Lord Hades, could we please check on Percy?" She looked at Hades hopeful.

"It's kinda cool how you two are kinda getting along."

"I had sent furies to watch over him... More to jump him but that isn't the point." He cleared his throat. "And the reason why I let her walk is she has information on you."

"Wait she knows? About what? Can you tell me what you know?"

"During the incident in Montauk, your parents and I had a talk. You should get answers from them instead."

"What made you think the big guy would let them go?" I said bitterly.

"I wasn't expecting them to be this low."

"I blame Percy's dad... No offence."

"He deserves to be called a jerk." Mrs. Jackson huffed. "He betrayed you."

Hades got up and D/N followed him, not long after something was projected in front of us.

It was Percy, Annabeth and Grover against Ares.

"Ares gave the bag to us." I told Hades, "He probably has your helm too. Honestly he's my second hated god."

"Second to Poseidon I'll take it." Hades said settling on his throne again. With a flick of his hand two chair appeared. "You wish to watch don't you?"

"Thank you my lord." Mrs. Jackson was relieved.

"Your son better prove his innocence."

Percy turned back to Ares. "Are you going to fight me now?" he asked. "Or are you going to hide behind another pet?"

"Why is he challenging him???" Mrs. Jackson was obviously worried.

"He's a fool."

Ares's face was purple with rage. "Watch it, kid. I could turn you into—" "A cockroach," Percy retorted. "Or a tapeworm. Yeah, I'm sure. That'd save you from getting your godly hide whipped, wouldn't it?"

"I like how we get front row seat on this one." I laughed. Flames danced along the top of Ares glasses. "Oh, man, you are really asking to be smashed into a grease spot." "If I lose, turn me into anything you want. Take the bolt. If I win, the helm and the bolt are mine and you have to go away." Ares sneered. He swung the baseball bat off his shoulder. "How would you like to get smashed: classic or modern?" Percy showed him his sword. "That's cool, dead boy," he said. "Classic it is." The baseball bat changed into a huge, two-handed sword. The hilt was a large silver skull with a ruby in its mouth. "Percy," Annabeth said. "Don't do this. He's a god." "He's a coward," He told her. She swallowed. "...Percy." She took off her necklace, with her five years' worth of camp beads and the ring from her father, and gave it to Percy. "Reconciliation," she said. "Athena and Poseidon together." He gave a smile. "Thanks." "And take this," Grover said. He handed him a flattened tin can that he'd probably been saving in his pocket for a thousand miles. "The satyrs stand behind you." "Grover... I don't know what to say." He patted him on the shoulder. Percy stuffed the tin can in my back pocket.

"Y/N..." Annabeth started. Pulling out from her back was Aphrodite's scarf. Percy looked at it and gripped onto in.

"We'll get her back." he squeaked and took the scarf from her to stuff it in his pocket as well. "You all done saying good-bye?" Ares came toward me, his black leather duster trailing behind him, his sword glinting like fire in the sunrise. "I've been fighting for eternity, kid. My strength is unlimited and I cannot die. What have you got?"

"Hades, can't you like... do something? I really--"

"No. It's his fight. I will not intervene." "But Percy isn't the wrong!!"

"That doesn't matter."

The water pushed Percy into the air and he catapulted over Ares, slashing as he came down. But Ares was just as quick. He twisted, and the strike that should've caught him directly in the spine was deflected off the end of his sword hilt.

He grinned. "Not bad, not bad." He slashed again and Percy was forced to jump onto dry land. He tried to sidestep, to get back to the water, but Ares outmaneuvered him, pressing so hard Percy had to put all his concentration on blocking his attacks.

Mrs. Jackson took my hand.

"He's strong. He'll win this." "Percy!" Annabeth yelled. "Cops!" "Please, at least save him from the cops!!" I said.

"The mist is powerful child. But if you wish, I could clear his name. Both of yours."

"Yes please..." I saw red lights flashing on the shoreline boulevard. Car doors were slamming. "There, officer!" somebody yelled. "See?" A gruff cop voice: "Looks like that one kid on TV... what the heck..." "That guy's armed," another cop said. "Call for backup." Percy rolled to one side as Ares's blade slashed the sand. Percy ran for his sword, scooped it up, and launched a swipe at Ares's face, only to find his blade deflected again. Ares seemed to know exactly what he was going to do the moment before he did it. Percy stepped back toward the surf, forcing him to follow. "Admit it, kid," Ares said. "You got no hope. I'm just toying with you." I saw a second cop car pulling up, siren wailing. Spectators, people who had been wandering the streets because of the earthquake, were starting to gather. Among the crowd, I thought I saw a few who were walking with the strange, trotting gait of disguised satyrs. There were shimmering forms of spirits, too, as if the dead had risen from Hades to watch the battle.

"You sent more that the furies." I frowned at Hades.

"The three had survived all three furies. I obviously needed more than one."

"Rude." More sirens. Percy stepped farther into the water, but Ares was fast. The tip of his blade ripped his sleeve and grazed Percy's forearm. A police voice on a megaphone said, "Drop the guns.' Set them on the ground. Now!" Ares turned to glare at our spectators. There were five police cars now, and a line of officers crouching behind them, pistols trained on them. "This is a private matter!" Ares bellowed. "Be gone.'" He swept his hand, and a wall of red flame rolled across the patrol cars. The police barely had time to dive for cover before their vehicles exploded. The crowd behind them scattered, screaming. Ares roared with laughter. "Now, little hero. Let's add you to the barbecue."

"Stop the fire. Don't let the civilians get hurt!" I told him.

"Don't worry. No one was hurt." Hades said waving me off. Ares slashed. Percy deflected his blade. He got close enough to strike, but his blow was knocked aside. The waves were hitting Percy in the back now. Ares was up to his thighs, wading in after Percy. Ares came toward, grinning confidently. Percy lowered his blade, as if he were too exhausted to go on. Ares raised his sword.

A whimper came from Mrs. Jackson as she buried her face on her palm.

Percy jumped, rocketing straight over Ares was a wave which he rode.

A six-foot wall of water smashed him full in the face, leaving him cursing and sputtering with a mouth full of seaweed. Percy landed behind him with a splash and feinted toward his head, as he'd done before. Ares turned in time to raise his sword, but this time he was disoriented, he didn't anticipate the trick. Percy changed direction, lunged to the side, and stabbed Riptide straight down into the water, sending the point through the god's heel. The roar that followed made Hades's earthquake look like a minor event. The very sea was blasted back from Ares, leaving a wet circle of sand fifty feet wide. Ichor, the golden blood of the gods, flowed from a gash in the war god's boot. The expression on his face was beyond hatred. It was pain, shock, complete disbelief that he'd been wounded. He limped toward Percy, muttering ancient Greek curses. Something stopped him. It was as if a cloud covered the sun, but worse. Light faded. Sound and color drained away. A cold, heavy presence passed over the beach, slowing time, dropping the temperature to freezing, and making me feel like life was hopeless, fighting was useless. I had no idea how I felt all that despite my location. The darkness lifted. Ares looked stunned. Police cars were burning behind them. The crowd of spectators had fled. Annabeth and Grover stood on the beach, in shock, watching the water flood back around Ares's feet, his glowing golden ichor dissipating in the tide. Ares lowered his sword. "You have made an enemy, godling," he told me. "You have sealed your fate. Every time you raise your blade in battle, every time you hope for success, you will feel my curse. Beware, Perseus Jackson. Beware." His body began to glow. '''Percy!" Annabeth shouted. "Don't watch!"

Hades stood up and turned to me.

"He's innocence is proven. You two are free." I looked back. Ares was gone. The tide rolled out to reveal Hades's bronze helm of darkness. Percy picked it up and walked toward the others.

"As promised, you two shall be returned."

"I want to go to Percy." I said.

"You can meet him at the tower. Sally Jackson and I will have a talk then we can send you back."

"A-Are you keeping D/N?" I asked.

He looked at me then D/N. "We'll find that out when we had sent you home."

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Taglist?

@gayer-than-the-gayest-gay @the-natureofme @booknerd-3000 @katara720 @ynfics

#percy jackson #percy jackson x reader #Percy Jackon and the Olympians #percy jackson x y/n #pjo #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #Y/N L/N and the halfbloods #x reader #y/n l/n #x y/n #fanfiction #fanfictions #Chapter 20 #Book 1 #lightning thief

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themoomoorn · 4 years

Text

Jeralt Eisner Stinky

Related to my previous reblog, feel free to parouse as to why I agree that Jeralt is a bad dad, and the fact that the devs’ lack of a continuity checker made him look worse than the director likely intended him to.

Let’s count the ways:

- Went a very melodramatic 180 regarding Rhea when Byleth - who was resuscitated from friggin’ death - wasn’t behaving like a “normal baby.” Now to be fair, Rhea was too mum for her own good and a baby that’s not very reactive to stimuli is very concerning in real life, but real life ties lose some of their weight due to Byleth’s wonky parentage and the reason for her lack of heartbeat. Jeralt is also generally perturbed by Byleth not being “normal” for quite a while, which is pretty shitty of him anyway.

- As a response to the above, it’s implied that he was the one who set the monastery on fire when absconding with Byleth in the night, a fire that was reported to have caused some serious damage and destroyed a lot of books.

- There’s also the fact that he was aware that Sitri herself suffered from a flat affect and struggled to emote more expressively at first, and he himself is pretty emotionally constipated. It’d be more shocking if Byleth grew up suddenly acting like Alois.

- He loved Sitri for basically being a cute little innocent nun, likely seeing her as ideal housewife material. I know I’m using the term “housewife” in a damning fashion, but he loves her for some seriously basic, surface-level reasons. Plus the whole “getting her to emote and smile more” bit? Granted, Claude’s relationship with Byleth grows in a somewhat similar fashion, but Claude also easily adheres the least to 3H’s “avatar worship” and he doesn’t just become fond of Byleth due to her smiling and getting cuter because of that. You can’t say the same of Jeralt and Sitri.

- While one can’t entirely damn someone for raising a child in the mercenary lifestyle due to the setting - We got a Lord and his sister being raised under similar circumstances - The sheer ignorance that Jeralt raised Byleth with is pretty damning if the gameplay/narrative element (Byleth being ignorant for the sake of player projection and exposition) is taken away. It’s one thing to not necessarily be aware of the ins and outs of the major religion of an entire continent, but Byleth doesn’t even have much basic knowledge of Fodlan’s three countries, or any country outside of it, although most of Fodlan doesn’t either. There is also more damning text, including how Jeralt handled all of their job logistics and didn’t bother to put in any incentive to have Byleth possibly learn to inherit or learn the ins and outs of the company. The quest where you get Jeralt’s old tactics primer also reveals that he didn’t bother to teach Byleth basic battle tactics either.

- Where the heck was Byleth when Jeralt was in Sauin Village??? Not even Byleth herself remembers. And while it’s heartwarming to see that Jeralt still cares for Leonie after reuniting with her (With people who bash Leonie for her fixation on him naturally ignoring this), he seems to put more effort in bonding with her than his own child. She’s also the one who winds up inheriting his company, although that can also be attributed to Byleth being presumed dead when she does.

- He doesn’t really say much when it comes to Byleth’s “Ashen Demon” title, which is notably one of the very few things that genuinely upsets Byleth prior to her becoming more emotive. And while it’s hinted that Byleth herself didn’t express interest in interacting with other people casually, Jeralt wasn’t exactly helping matters in that department either, exacerbating their isolation from others. Heroes has the default Female Byleth note that she can’t tell a friend from an ally due to how she grew up.

- The man’s a raging alcoholic who performed some pretty stupid, deadly shit, including a trick that had a high chance of beheading Alois. His treatment of Alois is also pretty deplorable, as is the fact that he has a slew of unpaid bar tabs that get shouldered by Alois and then forced onto Leonie.

- Going back to meta and tying to how a lack of continuity checking affected 3H, Jeralt spent a lot of time fretting over Byleth being even remotely exposed to the church when there’s plenty of folks who, while aware of the faith, do not actively practice at all, pay lip service at best, or even show some disdain like the three Lords do. Exploring lore also hampers the idea that the church is omnipotent and omnipresent: The Empire’s church branch was flat-out gutted for well over a century with practically no faith-based services available (this is a crux for Dorothea’s hatred of the faith and also cited with Mercedes’ history; she and her mother had to go to the Kingdom to find any kind of religious sanctuary after getting kicked out of House Bartels), the Alliance’s church branch has no political sway specifically because of how said Alliance is governed, and the Kingdom’s church branch has its own problems due to the zealotry, radicalism, differences in opinions of the faith, and eventual manipulation by the Agarthans that led it crossing blades with the Central branch.

Plus, you know, Rhea never bothered to pursue Jeralt after he ran away. And Alois’ contingent of knights appearing in Remire that fateful evening was pure happenstance, plus how Jeralt doesn’t even operate his company under a pseudonym or anything practical like that. So with these in mind, it’s actually pretty reasonable to consider that Byleth can at least be somewhat unaware of the Seiros faith without Jeralt’s input.

- While it’s unrelated to Jeralt being Stinky, I find it irksome that a lot of folks will jump right on Jeralt hating Rhea and the church in wake of the man himself acknowledging that taking Byleth away from the monastery (or at least not giving them a stable place to grow up) was probably a huge mistake upon seeing them flourish as a teacher. He also gets gutted for ultimately putting two and two together and realizing that the Empire may be involved with the group that’s been terrorizing the monastery during all of the 1180 school year, and tells off the Flame Emperor when they claim they’re not culpable for the Remire Massacre. It’s hard to tell whether or not the man would side with Edelgard with enough persuasion or propaganda, or how he’d react to Byleth becoming one with Sothis and taking on their position as a major figure within the church for three out of four routes with some degree of fanfare and acceptance (which players naturally ignore to warp into Byleth being a shrieking harpy church-basher, or a church victim that El-chan or Claude has to ~save~ her from, naturally). But it’s proof that people can’t really read - the guy wasn’t having the FE’s excuses, plain and simple.

- The above also ties to how Leonie is derailed in Crimson Flower, as she’s one of the few who unambiguously knows that the Fork Emperor is working with the same group that had Jeralt killed, in addition to all of the hell they caused therein. Naturally, her excuse if recruited on Flower is - wait for it - Jeralt was pissy at Rhea for reasons Leonie never finds out about, but since Byleth-chan is siding with El-chan, it’s all well and good now.

- There’s also the profoundly depressing meta that if Byleth were allowed to be their own character, a continuity person was maybe in place, and Jeralt wasn’t a glorified plot device, then he had all the makings to be a great deconstruction of Greil from FE9. The parallels are all there, but naturally they’re not put to good use, or blithely ignored outside of Supports. This also ties to just how heavily players project onto Byleth, possibly even more so than Robin or Corrin. Since they really project onto Byleth as Kusakihara and his goons intended, Jeralt is naturally tied to players’ real life father figures by osmosis, despite the fact that Jeralt himself definitely isn’t a good father figure.

While having a consistent continuity checker wouldn’t be a fix-all to 3H’s problems (Kusakihara’s dismissive attitude towards having one and consistency in general is pretty damning in itself), it likely would’ve at least tightened the worldbuilding that the devs prided themselves on and offered some more consistency, even if the price is showing unpleasant truths such as Jeralt being stinky.

#fire emblem three houses #fe3h #fire emblem three houses meta #byleth eisner #jeralt reus eisner #fe3h critical #game development #let's also not forget how players warp what little character Byleth has either #the lack of a continuity checker really hurts this game #toshiyuki kusakihara sucks

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zuffer-weird-girl · 4 years

Text

You guys really thought that I would create a family for my husband to simply end like that? NO WAY IN HELL wait, hold on, you guys cried?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Everyone who passed even a centimeter close to the yakusa house felt a strong wave of hatred and sorrow, so imagine the ones who were living on there....

It has been already three days since the fight with Endeavour that killed the yakusa boss's, Overhaul, wife. Not his coomurates neither the heroes could find the body, not even allowing him to make a decent funeral...

Chisaki was numb yet so full of rage... But he couldn't just lost his guard now like he had when he received the news, breaking down along with his two children on the floor...

Kai left his office, not having the strength to ented your shared bedroom, eyebags equivalent to shinsou's or even worse, and found his teenager son staring at the coffee table, in his (E/C) didn't show any hints of any emotions... he was just sitted there, with his forearms resting on his knees. While his younger daughter found herself just laying on the couch staring at the ceiling with red puff golden eyes...

He didn't know which hurted more to look, Kaito who carried your eyes or Kin which even though licked both his hair and eyes had the same facial expressions as yours...

"You two need to hydrate or at least eat something. Unless you want to..." he stoped on his tracks noticing his brute words and how it could affect them.

While Kin nodded and lift herself just to grab a cup of water, the little girl seemed to drag her feet along with her, Kaito didn't even moved a muscle.

"Kaito." Said sternly Chisaki, earning a death glare from his son.

Two could play the same game.

"Go. Eat something." He pointed at the direction of the kitchen and his son scoffed.

"I thought you were already planning that bastard's death instead of being around here." Mumbled the young man.

Chisaki eyes darkened as he glared down at his son.

"Those things can't be done without an actual plan. Unless you want everyone on here arrested or even worse." He growled.

Kaito seemed not even woried about the way his father was acting as he sighed annoyingly and went to the kitchen.

The atmosphere between the three was tense... Kaito seemed to lost all that angel part of his, while Kin didn't even say a word after her outburst...

He himself wasn't one to talk, he was impatient, more aggressive with his subordinates and even got into a few arguments with his older son.

He really was trying to control himself since it was his child over there, but the way Kaito always seemed to bring that topic up seemed like he had just stroke a nerve on him with a scolding needle.

He arrived where his two children were and found Kin just staring at the cup in front of her on the table with her chin burried on her tiny arms... He went to her and apprehensively patted her head, it wasn't going to change things he knew but this was better then watching his daughter im this state.

Kaito himself took an angry bite of an pre made sandwich as he leaned on the board. Chisaki arched an eyebrow at him which only resulted on a annoyed shrug from the boy.

"You didn't want one Kin?" The little girl shook her head.

It has been three days... and he couldn't di this anymore.

How was he supposed to raise two childs on his own? And most importantly, after one of them saw you moments before dying while the other was just too young to take it well the news...

"Dammit..." he whisper to himself feeling his eyes start to burn.

Kin got up from her chair and made her way out of the room quietly. Leaving both Kai and Kaito alone on the room again.

"I want to kill him." Kaito said while Chisaki sighed in annoyance, pitching his covered nose.

"He is the top one hero Kaito. You can't do that without a plan." He growled.

"Well, at least I want to do something instead of letting the man who killed my mom walked freely on the streets. Different from others..." Chisaki slowly took his hand away frrom his face as he sended a one eye death glare at his son.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Why aren't you doing something? Many people died because of you, but now when a hero kills your wife you just stand here? I find this quite... wrong."

Both glared at each other before Chisaki spoke, his words sounding like venon...

"Listen, just because you are in pain, it doesn't mean that you can just threw away the damn respect that me and (Y/N) taught you. Second; you're just a spoiled irritading rascal who thinks that could do a better job than me who worked on the yakusa for years already? Did you want it to make me laugh?" Kaito's confidence completely dissapeared at seing the way his father was looking at him, especially hearing the tone of voice he was using.

"I understand your point of view son of mine, but have you even thought about being on my shoes? I spend more than your age on her side and you have the audacity to even mentioning that I wouldn't do nothing to avenge her death?" He punched the wall near him, making it crack slightly.

"You're NOT the only one who misses her and want a damn revenge, understand that?!" He shouted making Kaito jumped on the spot. Chisaki was never one to yell, but when he did it was just as scary as the death look he gave it sometimes.

"Dad I-" he tried to apologize as he saw his father covering his face.

"Get out." A simple command, and just as fast as he sayed his son left the room.

Kai hadn't look on Kaito's face since then... it was already night and the two didn't even bother to look at each other.

When Kai was trying to concetrate on making strategic paths to the number one hero agency he heard a loud scream of his daughter, which seemed to be coming from outside.

He already thought the worst and started to take his gloves off, and it only agravates when he heard the shout his son had let following after.

Those damn good for nothing guards, if something else happened to his family he swears he will.... he will...

He stoped dead on his pace when he oppened the door and saw his two children on the floor crying in glee as you hugged them tight to your body.

It can't be...

"Mommy you're okay! You're here!" Kin shouted in glee as she nuzzled in your chest, the snot on her nose evidently sticking to it.

"Mom, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry..." cried Kaito as he buried his face on the crook of your neck.

"Hey you two I'm alright really. Sorry for taking too long my precious." You said hugging your children close as you fighted back the tears.

Kai stared with wide eyes the scene before aproaching slowly... He stopped in front of you, staring down with disbelief as he trembled.

"This better not be a sick joke." He said breathless as you looked up at him and almost cried at seing the pained look on your husband's face.

"Kai..." you said looking at him as he fell to his knees, not even caring about the dirt on his pants.

"How..?" He asked already letting one or two tears fall as be felt the warmth of your hand on his skin.

You were actually here...

"That man helped me with my injuries after the attack, he has a healing quirk..." you pointed to the elder watching from afar the scene accompanied by two man on each of his side from the yakusa.

"I was unconscious those three days my love I'm so sorry." You teared up before Chisaki just oushed you three to his chest.

"Don't you dare apologize over something like that..." he growled as he let those tears fall shamelessly "Angel... my sweet angel." He nuzzled his covred nose on the top of your head as he silently cried and hugged you close.

"Dad..." kaito kaito sudden said "I'm really sorry."

"Enough of that. Is just over that thing. It never happened." He simply said as he burried his facr deeper in your hair while he let out a tiny sob.

He was owning this poor sick man all of his life for that. The yakusa in general would be owning him...

#overhaul x reader #overhaul scenario #fanfic overhaul #chisaki kai imagine scenario #chisaki kai x reader #bnha imagine #bnha x reader #bnha characters #bnha villains #bnha #bnha villains x reader #my writing #zuffer writings #kaito and kim #kaito baby boi #kin

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a-n-conrad · 4 years

Text

Fighting and Flirting (Bakugo x Reader)

Chapter 25: Meeting the Other Schools

[Summary: It’s almost time for the exam, and as you reach the stadium, you remember that now you have to meet the other heroing schools. While it goes better than you expected, you meet quite the interesting cast of characters]

Masterlist

Before you knew it, it was time for you to take the licensing exam. You were pretty sure you had gotten your bubble technique down, and you had made some progress on trying to give your sonic boom a little extra power. You couldn’t work on that too much since you didn’t want to make yourself go completely deaf, but you could do a little. You were hoping to figure out how you got the power you did in the forest, but you were nowhere close. Maybe that was for the best. Apparently, you couldn’t quite handle that level of power.

Either way, you were getting a little anxious about this whole exam. Not only would you have to find ways that your quirk can be useful, no matter what kind of test they give you, but you’s be running into people from a whole bunch of other schools. You were sure they wouldn’t be a big fan of you since you knew that UA had a bit of a reputation of being a bit arrogant.

“What are you so worried about?” Katsuki asked as he sat next to you on the bus. The two of you still weren’t officially dating, since you hadn’t actually gone on a date or said anything to anyone, but by the looks your classmates had given you lately, you could tell most of them figured out that there was something.

“Just the other schools,” You sigh, “I’m not excited for another round of ‘Let’s hate class 1-A, because we think they’re self-absorbed dicks’. I know you don’t mind, but I do.”

“Why do you care so much about what all those extras think? Seriously, (Y/n), you’re going to drive yourself insane if you care so much about everyone liking you.”

“I know. I just can’t help it,” He was right. You cared way too much about people liking you. That’s why you refused to let any of them see you break. That’s why you avoided Katsuki so much when you accidentally confessed to him. And that’s why you’ve had an illusion over the scar on your face since you took the bandages off, “Maybe that’s why we make such a good pair, ‘Suki. We balance each other.”

He blushed a bit at that, “Whatever you say, Sunshine.”

- - - - -

You get to the arena, and after a second of rare encouragement from your usually stone-faced teacher, you huddle together with your class, attempting to think up strategies that could be applied no matter the test. You honestly couldn’t think of much.

Your huddle was soon interrupted, though, as a boy in a uniform that you recognized as a Shiketsu uniform ran over to you. He quickly introduces himself as Inasa Yaorashi, before another student reminds him that it’s rude to interrupt. He seemed so enthusiastic, and you couldn’t help but smile a little.

“My apologies,” He says, bowing deeply enough that he smashes his head against the ground, causing himself to start bleeding when he raises his head again. He really was quite an interesting guy.

“Oh god,” You sigh and the rest of your class gasps, “Are you alright? You’re bleeding.”

You quickly asked Momo to make you a little bandage. You knew it wouldn’t use up too much of her quirk, so she was plenty willing. You walk over to the boy and hand him the bandage, much to everyone’s surprise, “You should put this on. You don’t want to get that scrape too dirty. I’m sure the test will get messy.”

He looks at you a bit surprised before taking the bandage, “Thank you.”

“I think I recognize you from the UA exams, don’t I?” You ask, “You did so well, I’m not surprised you managed to get into Shiketsu, too.”

He looked behind you and you watched as he made eye contact with Shoto. You watched as his face turned from enthusiastic to bitter, before muttering, “At least someone from UA has some manners.”

“Huh?” You couldn’t help but tilt your head in confusion, as the boy who had been so enthusiastic and happy to see you all glared at your childhood friend with hatred. You wondered if there was some story there that you had missed on the day of the exams. To be honest, you wouldn’t be surprised. Shoto was extra bitter about his dad that day, so it wouldn’t have been out of character for him to act a little rude to someone.

He looked back at you and his face shifted back to his grin from just a few moments ago as his eyes left Shoto, “Well, it’s nice to officially meet you. I wish you luck on the exam.”

He actually winked at you before walking away, and you could hear Katsuki growl behind you as he did. You honestly hadn’t expected Katsuki to be the jealous type, but looking back on it, you probably should have. Maybe you just hadn’t thought about it enough, because, yeah. He definitely seems like the jealous type.

You walk back over to the rest of the group and stand next to Katsuki. You can feel him tense a little, and you go to grab his hand. You can honestly feel him relax next to you as you lock your fingers together, and you can’t help but smile at him. To be honest, he was a lot softer than most people thought. Especially when you were around. You wondered if Deku noticed a difference too. He knew Bakugo for longer than anyone, so you were sure he’d spot a change if there was one.

“Inasa Yaorashi actually took the top score in the UA recommendation exams. He may be awkward, but he’s quite the fighter. You all need to be careful,” Aizawa said.

You could see the rest of the class look surprised. Even Shoto. You supposed that he probably forgot all about Inasa and any interaction they might have had. You remembered him though. His wind power was pretty impressive. Honestly, he was definitely on the same level as Shoto, Katsuki, and Deku. He was competition for sure, but that didn’t mean you had to be rude to him.

Just as you all started to get over the shock of that odd interacted, you were approached by another school, led by a very energetic woman with green hair. It seemed like she knew Aizawa, and you were quite curious as to what exactly their relationship is. You tune into Deku’s muttering to discover that the woman was called Ms.Joke, the Smile Hero. You were curious if Deku knew he muttered like that every time you met a new pro hero, but you weren’t about to say anything. It was actually pretty convenient to get all of the info you needed just by listening in to his rants.

“You two seem awfully close,” Tsu says, looking at the two teachers. You were always entertained by her bluntness.

“Yeah, we used to work near each other! That’s how we got to know each other and eventually fell in love,” Ms. Joke replied, the grin never leaving her face. They were quite the odd pair, but you couldn’t really comment. You were still holding Katsuki’s hand.

“We’re not in love,” Aizawa stated.

“Aw, don’t be like that,” Ms.Joke whined, though you could tell it was all a joke. They seemed like pretty close friends, but knowing your teacher, you had a feeling he wouldn’t admit that.

Her class is quick to join you, including a boy who introduces himself as Yo Shindo. Shindo seems nice enough as he talked to you all. You couldn’t help but smile as he expressed his admiration for all of you. He was sweet, and it was nice to actually hear someone praise you for making it through all that you’ve had to deal with.

“You’re Bakugo, right,” Oh. Oh no. He stuck his hand out for a handshake, “You were so cool at the sports festival!”

“Tch, Whatever,” Katsuki replied, rolling his eyes at the boy’s attempted introduction. He dropped your hand and crossed his arms in front of his chest. You couldn’t even react right away.

“Bro,” Kirishima hissed.

“It’s alright,” Shindo said, pulling his hand away. You’re impressed at his ability to brush off Katsuki’s rudeness.

Before you know it, though, it’s time for all of you to get changed into your hero costumes and head to the arena. The exam was about to begin, and soon enough, they wouldn’t be other students. They’d be competition. And as much as you wanted to be friendly, you had to prepare yourself to fight them with everything that you had in you.

Taglist: @thatpersonwithissues @ohnosiren @winchester-wifey

[A/N: Sorry this took so long. Writer’s block is rough. I hope all of you are doing well!]

#katsuki bakugo x reader #bnha katsuki bakugou #bakugo #bnha #bnha x reader #mha x reader #mha

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mischiefandspirits · 4 years

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Doppelgänger (2/?)

Previously on Doppelgänger ~ Masterlist ~ Next time on Doppelgänger

Danny, Sam, and Tucker were just 14 when they took a look inside the portal Danny’s parents had built. From there, everything changed. They woke up with white hair, green skin, and powers they could learn to control. They were hybrids, halfas.

They were the hero Doppelgänger.

{Parental Bonding}

“We can possess people!” the trio said, Tucker bouncing in midair. Sam crossed her arms. “That seems really wrong. We didn’t do it on purpose. Imagine how many dates we could get this way. We don’t need dates. We know we want to go to the dance.”

Sam turned human, dropping onto Tucker’s bed with a scowl.

Danny floated closer to her with an apologetic expression.

“Sorry,” he and Tucker said.

“It’s okay. I know you guys aren’t intentionally prying. It’s just kind of annoying sometimes.”

“We’re getting better at keeping things separate,” they said as Tucker sat down at the end of the bed. “Maybe we’ll be able to figure out secrets as we work on it. Do we need to have secrets though?”

“Yes, Danny, we do,” Sam said, poking the boy. “You might have loose lips, but I like my privacy.”

Danny pouted and transformed. “I don’t have loose lips. I just don’t get why anything has to be a secret between us. We’re best friends.”

Sam grabbed his arm and tugged him onto the bed with her.

His pout immediately fled as he curled up in her arms, his head tucking beneath her chin.

Tucker gasped and turned human. “It’s a cuddly Sam day!”

She shot him a glare. “Not for you it isn’t.”

He ignored her and joined them on the bed, pressing up to her back and draping an arm over both his friends. She grumbled, but relaxed back against him as Danny poked his head up to give them both kisses on the cheek.

They rested together for a while before Sam’s phone went off.

She nudged Danny, who’d been dozing. “Come on, it’s getting late. We should get home before someone realizes we aren’t in our beds.”

“No one will check on me before morning,” Danny said with a nuzzle.

She pushed him off the bed.

“Well then.”

Tucker sat up as the two stood and transformed. “Sam, wait.”

They turned to him.

“Uh, you know, since neither of us have dates and you really want to go, the two of us could go to the dance together as friends.”

Danny smiled and Sam tilted her head.

“Really?” they asked.

“Sure. I’ve pretty much struck out with everyone in school anyways and someone has to keep an eye on Danny.”

“Hey! True. HEY!”

{One of a Kind}

Skulker looked between the human boy he was tailing and the ghost child glaring down at him. He could have sworn the half-ghost was the child of the hunters Plasmius had paid him to investigate, not the boy's female friend.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

No, that can’t be. He was sure the girl was the ghost child. He knew he had seen the technology-boy asleep with the hunters’ child!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Skulker gaped at the three ghost children surrounding him. “What are you?”

“We are Doppelgänger, and you are done here,” they somehow said together while sounding like only one.

At least he'd still accomplished the job Plasmius required, Skulker thought as he was pulled into a cylindrical device.

{Attack of the Killer Garage Sale}

“You’re not going to go to the party?” Sam asked as Danny tossed the invite Dash had given him in the trash.

“Sam, I don’t think we’d need our bond to feel your hatred for this entire situation,” Tucker said.

“Sorry.” She’d really been trying to hold back her more jealous and controlling nature since the accident. It wasn’t fair to her partners.

“It’s fine,” Danny said, knocking their shoulders together with a smile. “It’d feel weird without you guys anyways. Who would talk trash about the A-listers in our heads or get turned down by every person in the room?”

“Rude,” Tucker said.

“Besides, what would happen if a ghost showed up. Dash’s place is too far from either of yours for our mind link.”

“That’s true,” Sam agreed.

“You could always just call our phones,” Tucker said and his partners paused, surprised.

“Phones,” Sam chuckled. “How did we forget phones exist?”

“We might be getting too dependent on the mind link,” Danny laughed, rubbing his neck.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sam and Danny looked up as Tucker dropped down onto the couch between them.

“You guys could have helped,” he huffed, passing the thermos to Danny and turning human.

“Tech’s you thing,” Danny said with a shrug, tossing the thermos into his Space Fold.

“Did you need help?” Sam asked, handing Tucker a bowl of popcorn.

He snorted. “Technus, master of technology and destroyer of worlds, was running an old version of Portals XL. It was easy to slip through the cracks with my powers. That’s not the point though.”

{Splitting Images}

Sam and Tucker watched Danny’s parents run off, then turned to their partner. “Watch it, Danny. Your parents almost c-” they stopped, then glared. “Who are you? Where’s Danny?”

The boy who was mostly not Danny frowned. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Sam grabbed him by the front of his shirt and slammed him against the lockers, her eyes glowing yellow.

“Tell us where our partner is now?” she and Tucker said as one and he stepped up next to her, his own eyes purple. “We can feel you’re not him!”

Poindexter immediately caved. He was smart enough to know he’d have a hard time taking on one halfa on in a fight, let alone two.

Sam was a lot more willing to hear out the old school nerd once her own nerd was safely in her arms and the three decided to let Poindexter stick around, so long as he agreed not to hurt or humiliate any of the bullies he went after, only spook them away from their targets. Especially when Danny told them about how Poindexter was treated in his own version of Casper High.

And they thought Dash was bad.

{What You Want}

You said she’s a genie ghost? Why didn’t you just wish her into the thermos? Sam asked.

Tucker and Danny shared a look from where they were hovering over the sick girl’s home.

You both are idiots. Get out of here before one of my parents spot you.

We’re invisible, they pointed out, but said their goodbyes and left all the same.

“Why didn’t we think of wishing her away? Because only one of us got all the common sense when the portal mashed us together. True. Oh, man! What? We forgot to share about the plasmablasts! Shoot, we’re dead. No puns right now, this is serious!”

{Bitter Reunions}

“Bad news,” Danny said as soon as he picked up the group call. “My parents are dragging me and my sister with them to their college reunion in Wisconsin.”

“That sucks,” Tucker hissed.

“Yeah, but our news is worse,” Sam said. “Knock knock.”

Her words were matched with a knock at Danny’s window and he opened the curtains to find Sam floating outside.

“Who’s there?” Tucker asked.

“Sam,” Danny said, gesturing her in.

“Sam who?”

“Sam’s at my window,” Danny snorted as she floated through intangibly. “What’s going on?”

“Wait, she’s at your house? Why? Do I need to come?”

“No, we took care of the problem for now.” Sam reached into the bag she’d strapped to her belt -- Danny could open the Space Fold for her and Tucker from a distance, but they only really did that for the thermos -- and pulled out a torn picture. “Look familiar.”

“Is that my dad?” Danny asked, taking it. The man in the picture certainly looked like his dad did in his collage pictures.

“That’s what we thought too.”

“What’s going on?”

“We took on this group of vulture ghosts just now and they had a picture of Mr. Fenton,” Sam explained. “They said they were on a search and destroy mission.”

“They want to kill Danny’s dad?”

“Why?”

“We don’t know,” Sam sighed. “They got away from us before we could interrogate them properly. We could have used our speed.”

“Sorry, my parents are in an inventing lull so they’re actually paying attention to my curfew,” Danny said, still looking at the picture.

“I still don’t get why Danny’s faster than us.”

“Tiny.”

“You mean smol.”

“No.”

“Yes. And it’s not fair.”

“You take hits better than Sam and I,” Danny pointed out. “And Sam’s stronger than us. It balances out. Now can we get back to the fact that someone put a hit out on my dad?”

“Sorry, we don’t know anything else.”

“At least you guys are going out of town. Hopefully, Sam and I can track down the birds before you get back.”

“Yeah, I hope so.”

Sam took her partner’s hand and pulled him into a hug.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Holy crow.”

“Tell us about it,” Danny groaned.

“We should have been there,” his partners said.

“We’re kind of glad we weren’t,” Danny said, poking his head into the RV for a second to make sure his parents and sister were still asleep. “Who knows what Vlad would have done if he knew about us? He thinks we use the royal we.”

“We can’t believe there’s another halfa out there. And he’s such a creep. Do we think he’d want us? Or only one of us?”

Danny frowned, rubbing his chest. It was weird being in ghost form, hearing his partners in their ghost form, and yet not being a part of the mind link. “We don’t know. And we don’t want to know. He doesn’t need to be anywhere near us. He’s a fruit loop.”

“Agreed.”

{Prisoners of Love, Part 1}

The trio floated back to back as they looked around the Ghost Zone. Danny pressed closer to his partners, eyeing a group of small blobs that he swore was following him, while Sam vibrated with excitement and Tucker snapped pictures with his phone.

“Can we just find the gift already? This place is amazing. No, it's not. It's creepy. And it goes on forever. We don't even know where to start to look! Maybe we can ask for directions?”

Tucker flew up to one of the doors. He knocked and opened it.

“Excuse me,” they said. “Would you be able to -”

“Get. Out. Of. My. ROOM!”

Tucker shut the door.

“Well, that won’t work. This is hopeless. We’re never gonna find that present. Our folks are gonna get divorced and it’s gonna be all our fault.”

Sam wrapped her arms around Danny.

“We’ll figure this out. Maybe we just need to think like a box. Think like a box? Well, the box isn’t a ghost. It’s from the human world.” Danny’s head popped up. “Yes, maybe the ghost zone’s gravity affects human world stuff differently than ghost stuff. If we can track the orbital paths, then we can figure out where the box went. But how would we figure out these orbital paths? We know one way. No.”

Tucker flew down to one of the floating islands, then transformed.

“Stop!” Sam and Danny shouted, flying up to him. “We don’t know how the Ghost Zone will affect a human. Our parents haven’t run any tests yet!”

“I’m fine, see,” Tucker said, gesturing at himself. “I can even breathe just fine. Everything’s okay.”

“For now.”

“I think it’s a little too late to worry about ectoplasmic radiation, so what are you two so worried about.”

“Only one of us is worried. We’re both worried.”

Sam shoved Danny, then shoved Tucker when he started laughing.

The boy yelped and braced himself when the shove knocked him towards a tree.

He passed right through it.

“What the heck?” the two said.

Tucker stood up and set his hand on the tree. Then he pressed down and his hand slipped through the tree, coming out the other side.

Danny dropped down next to him and tried to do the same, but couldn’t get his arm to go through the tree even when he turned intangible.

Sam snapped her fingers.

“Ectoplasm. Everything here is made of ectoplasm. Maybe being in the ghost zone naturally puts everything in a semi-intangible state, which means humans can pass through it if they try.”

“So we’re the ghosts here!” Tucker cheered, bouncing. “Sweet!”

“It’s definitely something to keep in mind.”

Tucker smiled and held up his arms. “Now that that’s settled, let’s see how this human gets affected by ghost gravity.”

Danny hesitated, but Sam shrugged and picked Tucker up and threw him into the void.

He flew a few yards before slowing down until he was just floating in place. They waited a moment, but nothing else happened.

“Well, that was anticlimactic,” Tucker said then transformed.

Danny and Sam flew up to him, all three saying, “That should have worked though. There has to be some sort of orbit or else the box would have just been right outside the portal and we check right after it got knocked in.”

Tucker shrugged and pulled out his phone. Danny’s eyes locked onto it. He grabbed it out of Tucker’s hand and tossed it.

“Hey! Look, it’s moving!”

The trio watched as the phone’s trajectory slowed, then started again slightly to the right of where it had been heading before.

“Humans might just be too heavy or dense for ghost orbit. Or maybe it’s a consciousness thing, like with the intangibility. Whatever it is, let’s just get going. If we lose our phone, we’re going to regret it.”

The three set off drifting a short ways behind the phone. They stuck close enough to be sure they didn’t lose it, but far enough that they wouldn’t accidentally alter its course. Eventually, the phone floated intangibly through one of the doors, this one looking like a rolling warehouse door.

The trio shared a look then opened the door and flew inside.

The lair was just a purple void filled with a variety of random items.

“So this is where all that stuff ends up. It’s like the void of lost items,” they said as Tucker grabbed his phone.

“Yes!” the trio turned to see the Box Ghost flying up. “It all ends up in the possession of THE BOX GHOST!”

“Ugh, this guy. What are you doing here? Don’t you have a cardboard box to haunt.”

Boxy blinked looking between the three before pointing at Sam, who was floating in the middle.

“I am The Box Ghost! Where do you think we go when you release us from your round, cylindrical trap?”

Danny looked unimpressed, Sam crossed her arms and started looking over all the junk, and Tucker ran a hand over his face.

“It is not our turn to deal with this. You mean the Fenton Thermos? The gift has to be here somewhere.”

He looked between them then threw up his arms menacingly. “I am the Box Ghost!”

“We know.”

“And beware! For I am merely ONE of your foes who reside in this realm! In fact, you might say,” the box ghost snorted, “we’re a PACKAGE DEAL!”

“I swear if we laugh at that, we’ll punch us. We’re not laughing at that. It’s the Box Ghost. We would laugh at that. That was a bad pun even for us.” They groaned and Danny floated closer to Boxy, holding his hands up in a show of good faith. “Look, we’re looking for something important, we don’t have time for your box puns.”

Suddenly police sirens sounded and the trio looked around.

“Flee!” Boxy shouted. “Lest you be hermetically sealed and shipped to your doom!” He tried to fly off, but a blast of green energy hit him, causing his wrists to be bound in handcuffs made of energy.

Sam and Tucker flew up to grab Danny’s arms. “Hey, what’s going on? We need to get out of here! Let’s -”

A blast hit them and they were bound together.

“Unauthorized duplication. That’s against the rules.” The trio looked up to see a large white ghost hovering over them. He pulled out a green book. “Or at least it is now.”

“Duplication? Like Plasmius? Wait! This is all a big misunderstanding! We’re not -”

The ghost moved so it was like he was crouched on invisible ground and shoved his face into Tucker’s. He grabbed Tucker’s phone and said, “There may be chaos everywhere in this Ghost Zone, but there’ll be order in my prison.” He stood up and turned to a group of ghosts in riot gear. “Merge them and ship them off.”

One of the ghosts smiled and pointed a police baton at them.

“Hold on! You’ve got the wrong -”

He shot them with a blast and a ring of energy wrapped around them and squeezed. It grew tighter and tighter and their bodies were pressed closer and closer.

“Stop! Wait! Please!”

And then there was a snap. It wasn’t audible. It wasn’t even physical. It was just a feeling as three bodies became one.

Doppelgänger looked down at their hands in shock, their mind a whirl of emotions and thoughts. They barely noticed as the ghost police grabbed their arms and threw them in the back of a prisoner transport van.

“We’re one?” they whispered, staring at their hands.

They certainly didn’t feel like one. They could feel Sam's and Danny's and Tucker’s minds rioting against one another in their head. It was like the trio were all trying to overshadow each other at once. Their body shook with hot and cold and lightning. They tried to pull apart, but the bands on their wrists, ankles, and waist kept their powers dulled and their ectoplasm merged.

The police returned and Doppelgänger shuffled into the corner of the van to keep away from the monsters. Thankfully they only shoved the Box Ghost inside and shut the doors.

Doppelgänger turned to the wall of the van. “If we transform, we can slip out. Can we transform with these bonds? Better question, what would happen if we transformed like this?” They shivered at the idea of being merged in their human forms. “Yeah, no. We need to figure out how to separate, then we can transform and get away from these psychos. Seriously, as if living corrupt police weren’t bad enough. We need to focus. Can this situation get any worse? Our folks are splitting up, our sister’s a basket case, and we’re going to ghost jail.” They curled up, trying to hold themselves as best they could with their bonds. “It will be okay. We’ll be okay. They’ll have to remove the bonds at some point then we can get away. It will be okay.”

#danny phantom #danny fenton #tucker foley #sam manson #Doppelgänger au

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deetheteadrinkingdragon · 5 years

Text

Warmth

There was one undeniable fact about the Storm Spire. It was cold at night. Bitterly cold, even in the midst of summer. It wasn’t too bad once you were deep inside the carved structure, insulated away from the stinging winds and draft of the mountain, though it was still rather chilly at best, and it was not uncommon to find humans wandering the hallways with blankets draped around them like capes while they acclimatised to the cold, or huddled together for warmth.

---

A Rayllum and Janaya Oneshot in two parts, in which Callum helps Rayla grieve her parents and Amaya finds something a little unexpected in the Storm Spire.

You can read it on Ao3 here, or continue reading below the cut!

Due to the nature of the inner chambers being the least frigid place in the Spire, those taking refuge in the days after the battle had settled there. There were still plenty of humans and elves milling around, and so they had taken over a few odd rooms here and there to sleep in, one such room having had belonged to the previous Dragonguard.

Rayla didn’t sleep in that one. She daren’t go anywhere near it. She clearly wasn’t ready for those emotions yet. Instead, she, Callum, Ezran, and about twenty other various soldiers, elven and human, had crammed into another empty room, (once, it seemed, used as some form of study) blankets and bedrolls lining the floor in such a manner it was hard at night not to accidentally step on anyone.

It was better like this, she thought. She didn’t have to think about the grief that panged in her heart when she remembered that her parents were dead, that she had once wished death on them for something they had never done.

Out of sight, out of mind.

Except it wasn’t. And she was thinking of that right now as she laid there that night, staring at the wall intensely, like if she wavered in her gaze, she would break. She could feel the tears stinging the corner of her eyes as she thought about them, her parents, their heroic last moments and how they had helped saved the world.

There was a shuffle behind her as her boyfriend stirred. It seemed Callum always could tell when she was upset.

She felt his arm slip around her where she lay beside him, his body shifting to bring himself closer to her. His hand was searching for hers, fumbling in the dark and she let him take it, weaving their fingers together and squeezing his hand tight.

“Rayla…” He whispered, his voice breathy and laced with sleep. “What’s wrong…?”

“It’s fine.” She mumbled back, trying to keep the tremble out of her voice and failing. She heard him shift, pulling himself up slightly to rest his weight on his elbow. He was looking at her now, she could feel it, even with her eyes closed and she fought the urge to try and bury her face slightly more into her pillow.

“Rayla,” His voice was so soft and gentle now. So tender. “Whatever’s hurting you… we can talk about it. Let me help. Please.”

She caved, if only slightly. How could she not? Rayla exhaled slowly, eyes fluttering open. Then she turned to meet his gaze, warm and comforting even in the dark. “I’m just thinking. About stuff. It’s okay Callum you can go back to sleep.”

He didn’t move, his brow only twitching with more concern. “I don’t want to sleep until I know you’re okay.”

Finally Rayla shifted, rolling onto her back. Callum’s face was pleading now. “Fine.” She murmured, rubbing at her face with the hope that perhaps Callum would think it was just to wipe the sleep from her eyes. “I’ve just been thinking about my parents again. It’s hard not to when their room is just down the hall from here.”

Sympathy found Callum’s eyes now. “Oh… Yeah.” He moved back to let Rayla sit up, the elf supporting herself back on her hands. He tentatively wrapped an arm around her waist, guiding her to sit closer to him.

“I’m so glad they didn’t run. That they were heroes.” She whispered eventually, resting her head against his briefly. “But… It doesn’t hurt any less knowing that they’re… that they’re gone. Forever. I’m never going to see them again.”

Callum glanced down and Rayla realised too late that Callum knew the pain she was feeling. Her heart sank, but as she opened her mouth to apologise his eyes shot back up to hers and he tried for a comforting smile.

“They’re not… really gone. No one you love is ever really gone. My step-dad used to say that when I was sad about my mom.” Rayla raised an eyebrow curiously at him as he continued. “When you love someone you carry them with you in your heart forever.”

A fondness crept into the tone of her voice. “That’s a little sappy, Callum.”

“Yeah but… it’s kinda true, right? I’m sure that wherever they are now, they’re watching over you, keeping you safe.” He pursed his lips or a moment. “Wow… I wonder what they’d think about you dating me. I hope they like me.” He looked up at the ceiling. “Hey, I promise I’ll look after your daughter if you promise not to disapprove of me too much when I meet you.”

She stifled a laugh at that, covering her mouth with her hand to stop herself from guffawing in the otherwise quiet room.

Perhaps that was what he was after, a grin, a little laugh, because his eyes lit up when she did. “I mean,” He continued gentler now, bumping his forehead to her temple. “You know I’ll promise to look after you whether they like me or not right?”

“I know.” She smiled, leaning against him now, her head on his shoulder. Callum’s arms folded around her, warm, safe, and she melted quite happily into the hug, her own arms coming to rest around his shoulders.

She could have quite contently fallen asleep like that, she was sure, and yet her brain still plagued her with the thoughts of her parents’ sacrifice.

Callum had left out the details of just how the High Mage has killed her parents. Perhaps he wanted to spare her that pain. But now it was beginning to haunt her, manifesting into a fear, a doubt. Had they suffered? Or had Viren given them an honourable death? It was unlikely from what she knew of him. Callum had seen what had happened in the chamber of the King and Queen, their final battle. Her stomach churned. Just how much had he seen?

“Callum?”

“Hm?”

A lump formed in her throat now, the question stuck there unwavering, afraid to come out for fear of his answer. She pulled back just enough to look at him, and the second his eye met hers his expression changed, empathetic, compassionate again. He could read her in an instant, he always had been good at that.

“Did you… Did you see them…? W-When they…?” She trailed off, unable to bring herself to finish the sentence this time. Her eyes searched his, and he gave her a little gentle squeeze, a pain on his face like he wasn’t sure how to answer, if he wanted to at all.

“Do you… really want to know?”

Rayla pursed her lips eyes downcast. Her voice cracked. “I… don’t know.” The tears threatened to escape the corners of her eyes again. “I-I really don’t know, Callum.”

He shifted, slipping his arms more around her and he gently tugged her in towards him. She didn’t resist. Rayla let herself curl into him, burying her face in his shoulder as she trembled, her shoulders shaking as she choked on sobs. Callum’s hand rubbed slow, soothing circles against her back, his lips pressing a tender little kiss against the side of her head.

“It’s okay,” He whispered against her ear. “We can talk about it when you feel ready. Whenever that happens to be.”

She squeezed him tighter, her hands bunching up the fabric of his shirt as she nodded, just eternally thankful to have him there with her.

They stayed like that for a few minutes. It felt like a miracle her broken, muffled sobs and their mumbled conversations hadn’t wake up anyone else in the room. Rayla waited until she had a better control of her breathing before she spoke again, but her voice still cracked on her words.

“Was it quick at least?”

Callum’s silence was deafening, she could feel him tense slightly. Her heart cracked further, sinking into the depths of her stomach.

“I couldn’t… from where I was standing make out really what exactly happened,” His words trembled slightly. “But I think it involved dark magic.” His voice went small, almost pained. “Whatever it was, there was a lot of… screaming. A-And then nothing. The next thing I knew they were just… gone. Like, actually gone, they weren’t there anymore. I don’t know what he did to them. And after that the spell I did… it faded.” When she didn’t respond, Callum’s hand begun to instinctively rub her back again. “…Rayla? A-Are you okay?”

Rayla’s fingers curled against his back. “Monster.” The word dripped with spite and hatred. “That vile, evil…” She gritted her teeth, jaw clenched tightly shut.

“Rayla… I’m so sorry.” She felt him rest his chin on her shoulder, tugging her closer. Something about the gesture eased some of the tension in her muscles. “But… If it helps at all… Viren is gone now. He can’t hurt anyone ever again.” He reminded her softly. “You made sure of that.”

She was silent for a moment. His words gave her some minimal comfort. And yet something else plagued her heart. “But how many more Virens are out there, Callum? How many more will we have to face to try and keep the peace?”

Callum’s face fell, and he grimaced, reflecting quietly before he spoke. “I don’t know. But… But whatever happens, we’ll face it together, right?”

Rayla nodded solemnly, and the boy caught her cheek with her fingers, tracing delicately along her jaw to tilt her chin more up. He wanted her to look at him. She did, meeting his eye, and he smiled warmly, that little smile of his that always filled her with the hope that better days were ahead of them.

“You are so amazing.” He whispered adoringly. “I don’t think you realise just how strong you are.” He bumped his forehead to hers, his nose brushing hers. Her lips finally turned up and she smiled back. “I think they’d be proud of you.”

“I think yours would be too.”

His eyes glistened. He didn’t need to say anything else. She was content to just sit there with him, their arms around each other. She had hoped that perhaps now, she could drift off, the burden in her heart shared and lightened. She was calmer, but her brain still felt far from switching off.

“I still don’t think I can sleep.” She whispered.

Callum was quiet for a moment, letting his hand fall from her cheek and find hers instead, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Hey… do you want to just… go for a little walk around the spire then? Maybe it’ll clear our heads a bit.”

---

Rayla wasn’t the only one unable to find sleep that night.

Footsteps echoed down one of the passages as someone wandered nonchalantly through them.

The spire was like a maze on the inside. Tunnels that twisted and turned every which way, and it was easy to end up in places you had never been before. That was what had happened one night with the human general, Amaya, as she paced down the hallways. Sleep came difficult to her sometimes, especially with fresh memories of battles still dancing through her brain. On nights like those, she would roam the halls, ‘patrolling’ she told herself, to calm down. There was no need to wake Gren. She wasn’t expecting to run into anyone. Just to be left alone in peace for a little while.

It helped that exploring the Spire offered her some level of amusement. Xadia was such a strange and wondrous place, and the residence of its Queen was no different. The night previous she had found herself wandering into a huge dining room carved of stone, chairs small and great, presumably to fit dragons and elves alike. It had been dusty, as though it had been centuries since its last use, perhaps long before the current king and queen had taken the spire.

Tonight, she found the hallway she had meandered down widening, walls becoming rockier, more natural as they went. There was no door at the end of this hall, instead a rocky archway leading into a huge chamber. Amaya gasped.

It was a garden. An indoor garden, full of lush orchard trees, berry bushes the likes of which she had never seen, and little fireflies flickering in the dark. The rocky walls were adorned with lightly glowing crystals, blues, greens, purples, lighting up the room in cool hues, little rays shimmering in the dusky night air. There was a draft too, and it wasn’t until she looked up she noticed the gaping hole in the ceiling revealing the night sky above. Moonlight shone down humbly through it, its light dancing on the treetop leaves.

It was beautiful here. Amaya stepped tentatively through it, fingers brushing over the strangely patterned bark of trees, the surprisingly velvet leaves of bushes, the cold night air invigorating her spirit. This was nice. She was sure her nephews would like it here, perhaps she would show them in the morning. She could already vividly imagine Ez playing a game of hide and seek with Bait and the baby dragon Zym. And the flora here was fascinating, surely Callum could fill pages of his sketchbook with it-

Amaya froze, her eyes catching on something between the trees. She wasn’t alone here.

She could just make out in the dark a figure slumped at the base of a tree, and at first her heart lurched. Were they hurt? What was someone else doing out this late at night? She jogged over and suddenly it wasn’t one person, it was two, two figures flopped… no, cuddled together.

Callum and Rayla.

She slowed, curious, her panic fading when she saw their chests rising and falling rhythmically, slow and steady. They’d fallen asleep in each other’s arms, little brown feathers dotted around and over them. Callum had told her a few days ago that he could cast a spell that gave him wings- had he used them to keep the pair warm? If he had, the spell had long since worn off now it seemed, his arms bare exposing the painted runes on his skin.

The boy’s scarf was draped around both of their necks loosely, its ends twisted together. They were sharing it, whether the gesture was a sweet romantic one, to preserve heat, or perhaps a bit of both, Amaya didn’t know, but they were undeniably cold. She could see the goose-bumps dotted over both of their arms.

Well that wasn’t okay. She wasn’t about to let her dear nephew and the elf girl go cold. There were blankets to spare back in her sleeping quarters if she could get them there.

‘I should wake them,’ she thought. ‘Before they end up catching colds.’ But she couldn’t find the heart to. They both looked so peaceful, cuddled up together in the moonlight, smiles on their lips despite themselves.

Alright then, she decided. If she couldn’t bring them to the blankets, she’d bring the blankets back to them.

---

There were plenty of spare blankets hanging around the sleeping quarters of the Dragonguard. One of the good things about having so many Sunfire elves around was that they seemed to radiate heat, not enough to be uncomfortable, but it always seems comfortingly less cold whenever they were nearby. As such, some of the soldiers were quite content sprawling out and sharing the body heat of anyone close by, sheets discarded about the floor.

Amaya got to work swiftly, stepping with surprising grace around the sleeping bodies littering the floor, sweeping up blankets, tugging them gently from under backs, legs, arms, until she had a whole bundle of them piled up to her nose.

And then she froze, an instinct within her, keen and alert. She could feel eyes on her. Someone was watching.

Amaya whirled around in an instant, almost forgetting that this was a time of peace now. That she didn’t need to fear attack. Or perhaps she did, perhaps it wasn’t meant to last, perhaps-

Oh.

It was Janai who stood in the doorway, eyebrow raised and an entertained smile on her lips. It seemed she had been waiting for the General to notice her, leaning against the stone framework, her arms crossed. Amaya relaxed slowly with a small sigh, then noted how Janai glanced her up and down, trying to work out what was going on. When she caught her eye, she finally spoke, a smirk tugging at her lips.

“You’re up rather late.” Amaya threw a smile back and a roll of her eyes before scooping one last blanket up in her arms. She caught the glint of gold out of the corner of her eye as the Knight of Lux Aurea came closer. “What do you need all those for? Are you making a… what was it the young human prince called it…? ‘Blanket fort’?”

Amaya shook her head amused now, then jerked her head towards the door in a gesture to follow her. She awkwardly manoeuvred around the sleeping soldiers now that it was harder to see them, at one point trailing the blanket over one elf’s nose and making him sneeze, before they made it back out to the hall.

“Where are we going?” Janai whispered after nudging Amaya in the arm. “Where are you taking me?” Of course, Amaya didn’t, couldn’t answer. Her hands were full. She just smiled and gave a little playful shrug as she continued walking. Janai huffed but didn’t argue, shoulder brushing against the human’s every few steps.

When they finally got back to the garden, Janai fell behind a few steps, and Amaya turned to see the awe on the Knight’s face. Her own expression softened and she gave Janai a gentle nod when her eyes fell back down to the human.

“It’s beautiful.” Janai whispered. “I would have never expected to find such a place up here.”

‘My feelings exactly’ Amaya thought, shrugging a shoulder in a gesture to have Janai continue to follow her.

“So what, are you setting up some sort of moonlit picnic for us?” Janai teased. Amaya shook her head. “Then why are we here?” Amaya finally stopped amidst the trees, Janai bumping into her shoulder.

There they were, just as Amaya had left them, still fast asleep under the tree.

“Is that… the young human prince? And his Moonshadow girlfriend?”

Amaya nodded with a fond smile, and finally turned properly to Janai. Without any hesitation she thumped the blankets against the elf’s chest plate and Janai staggered, her arms reaching up to receive them, fingers clasping the fabric tightly.

Amaya took one blanket back off the top, its tangled form almost threatening to topple the lot of them from Janai’s arms, then she snuck ever so gradually and gently closer to the resting couple. Janai followed slowly behind. She sighed softly, kneeling carefully by Rayla as she began to drape the blanket over the pair, tucking it carefully across their laps. The duo stirred a little in their sleep, only to tug each other a little closer and fidget to get more comfortable. Then their breathing evened out once more.

Janai bumped her arm against Amaya, before setting the pile down, taking one blanket and kneeling the other side of them, by her sleeping nephew. She watched as the Sunfire elf, with a surprising amount of tenderness, draped it over them, tucking it around their shoulders.

The pair continued to pile on the blankets over the couple as gently and carefully as they could, stealing little smiles as they did, until Amaya was content that they would be warm enough.

And then she noticed the young Moonshadow elf stir again.

“Hmm…?” Rayla inhaled deeply through her nose, her eyelids fluttering. Then they cracked open, dazed and still half asleep. Amaya froze, her hands hovering still over the young elf’s shoulders. Rayla’s eyes found her hands, bleary and confused, then slowly she turned her half-lidded eyes to the woman’s face. She stared at Amaya blankly, still half-asleep.

Then something rather unexpected happened.

Rayla smiled. She smiled so warmly and familiarly up at Amaya as though she had known her as a friend her whole life, her eyes glittering in the faint light. She looked so soft and gentle, not the cold, horrifying creature Amaya had once thought she was.

There was something in that moment that surprised the General. A question formed in her mind. How could she have ever thought of Moonshadow elves as bloodthirsty monsters? The girl went back to snuggling against Callum’s neck, her cold nose pressed against his warm skin and sighed peacefully, drifting off again.

Janai smiled across at Amaya softly, gesturing with a little head tilt to Callum, whose lips were turned up gently in his own sleep. “They’re… rather cute, aren’t they?” She whispered. “It is a little… strange, I’ll admit. But seeing them fills me with a feeling of hope.”

Amaya nodded, the twitch of a smile on her own lips. Janai was right. It was somewhat of a miracle that the pair had found love in each other despite the hatred of their people. She had once thought that perhaps her nephew would one day end up with Viren’s daughter. He would never shut up about her since he first became smitten with the girl as a young child. So it was definitely a surprise when Callum had explained to her that Rayla was in fact his girlfriend. She still wasn’t sure what had happened with Claudia, it seemed to be a bit of a sore spot for the boy, but she was thankful that he had moved on and found someone who clearly loved and adored him as much as he loved her.

Callum had always had so much love to give in his heart. And Rayla looked at him like he put the stars in her night sky, and the joy in living. It had been a bit jarring at first to watch. But after everything she had been through, and after everything they had been through, she couldn’t find it in her heart to disapprove.

Instead, she reached out, almost nervous, and awkwardly patted Rayla as gently as she could on top of the head, just between her horns. Then she let herself stand and took a few steps backwards. She watched Janai drape one last blanket over their legs for good measure, before she too stood, one blanket still rolled under her arm.

They stood watching for a moment, appreciating the very cosy little scene of the two smitten teenagers now snuggled together under a rather excessive amount of blankets. Then they turned to leave them in peace.

They wandered slowly away, just a few metres from the archway before Amaya caught Janai’s eye and the twitch of a smile caught on her lips. The elf stopped and Amaya slowed, curious.

“Oh would you look at that.” Janai gestured, almost theatrically with the blanket in her arms. Of course, Amaya didn’t catch the dramatics in her voice, but she could easily tell her tone by the face she was making. “We appear to have one blanket left! It would be a shame to let it go to waste.”

‘And what are you suggesting?’ She signed amused, in spite of knowing Janai couldn’t understand her.

Janai stepped closer, avoiding Amaya’s eye, and draped the blanket around her, and the human found a blush creep onto her cheeks as she did. Janai’s hands lingered a touch too long on Amaya’s shoulders, tracing against them before she pulled back.

“I um… Can’t let my favourite human go cold, I suppose.”

Amaya just stared at her in shock for a few seconds, hoping the heat in her cheeks wasn’t too obvious. Then, only half thinking, she reached out her arm, opening the blanket up to Janai. It was an awkward little request.

‘We can share if you want.’

Janai blinked back, surprised, but Amaya got a small level of satisfaction at the blush on the elf’s own cheeks now. “Oh… It’s alright I’m not cold I…” She trailed off when Amaya shook the blanket insistently.

Janai sighed, shaking her head and conceded stepping into the blanket’s warmth. Amaya smiled at her, then gave her a gentle tug to lead her back towards the archway and out of the garden.

The pair walked back towards their chamber feeling significantly warmer than they had felt before.

#rayllum #janaya #tdp #the dragon prince #rayla #callum #janai #amaya

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omgjasminesimone · 5 years

Text

Love The One You’re With

Colt x MC x Teppei

Some NSFW

Author’s Note: Not gonna lie, I’m kind of nervous about this one. This might not be everyone’s cup of tea. It’s ultimately Colt x MC, but there’s also some Teppei x MC. And in real life I’d be against a relationship with that big of an age gap/power dynamic (looking at you Sam Taylor-Johnson), but this is pixel fanfiction and I’m not romanticizing it or anything so I’m going to go with it.

Word Count: 6,250

When Ellie Wheeler first met Teppei Kaneko, she was desperate.

Her father, renown Detective Christian Wheeler, had died in the line of duty. It had been a domestic abuse incident. He had rushed in without backup. The wife and young daughter were saved, at the expense of his own life.

He was a hero, but the LAPD didn’t see it that way. They said he was reckless, he should have followed orders and waited for back up. They refused to pay out his life insurance policy, and Ellie was left orphaned and destitute.

She should have started her senior year at Langston that Fall, but she couldn’t afford it on her own. She was forced to withdraw.

She couldn’t make the monthly mortgage payments on the house. She was going to lose the house. She was going to lose everything.

Ellie was desperate. Desperate enough to call Logan, who she hadn’t spoken to in years. It took her several weeks to find his new number through his good friend Vaughn. Her old flame was involved in some shady underground dealings back in the day, and Ellie assumed he would still be running in the same circles now.

When she found out about Logan’s criminal background when they were hooking up her senior year of high school, she had cut ties with him. At the time, she had a great deal of respect for law and order. But after how the LAPD handled her father’s death, that lawful admiration had waned considerably. Now, Ellie would do what she had to do in order to survive.

Logan had been reluctant at first, telling her she didn’t know what she was getting herself into, that she wasn’t meant for the criminal lifestyle. But she begged and pleaded. Eventually, Logan agreed to put her in touch with his boss.

She met Teppei Kaneko at a drag show. He’d taken one look at her, and then looked at Logan like he was crazy.

“I promise you she can drive. I taught her everything she knows personally.” Logan vouches for her.

Ellie sticks her hand out to Logan’s boss for a handshake. “Ellie Wheeler. Nice to meet you.” She greets.

Teppei doesn’t take the offered hand, continuing to look at her skeptically. “This isn’t some undercover sting operation, is it? I’m familiar with your late father.”

Ellie’s fist clenches as she allows her hand to fall to her side. “Then you should also be familiar with my hatred of the LAPD. I’m no snitch. I just need a well-paying job that doesn’t require a college degree.”

There’s several moments of silence as Teppei seemingly mulls it over. “If anything, you’ll be unassuming. That could be an asset.” Teppei finally offers his hand. “Welcome to the Mercy Park Crew Ellie.”

…

After a big score, the crew celebrates with a party. There’s beer, and music, and what looks like the entirety of LA’s criminal underbelly gathered in the Kaneko Autobody Shop.

Ellie maneuvers past drunk Mona playing pool with a tall beautiful roller derby type, past Ximena and Toby trying to outdo each other with the most ridiculous dance move, and past Logan making out with some girl that Ellie has seen at the drag show a couple of times when the crew is there on business.

She raises the two glasses of beer over her head as she tries to make her way through the makeshift dance floor to where Kaneko leans against the door frame of his office, looking aloft.

“Thirsty?” Ellie asks, offering him one of the beers.

Teppei smiles softly and takes the offered cup, thanking her with a nod.

“Why do you throw these victory parties when you clearly hate them?” Ellie questions, leaning against the wall beside him and joining him in wall flowering.

“I don’t hate them, I’m indifferent.” Teppei insists.

“Fine, why bother if you’re indifferent?” Ellie rephrases.

“It’s about appearances. Letting other crews know how well things are going, how happy my crew seems to be under me. Networking. It’s ultimately business.” Teppei answers.

“I can respect a hardworking business man. It’s a turn on.” Ellie’s usually not this forward, but she’s a little bit drunk. And there’s so much adrenaline from the successful job she needs to get out, preferably through a sexual outlet. She glances over at Kaneko, definitely an attractive older man.

“Are you flirting with me? I’m old enough to be your father.” Kaneko chides.

Ellie downs the rest of her beer before looping her arms around Kaneko’s neck. “I no longer have a father.” She responds before capturing his lips.

When the party has died down hours later, Ellie lies in Kaneko’s bed wondering what she’s done.

He snores softly, back to her. There was no snuggling or kissing afterwards. It was clearly just sex, for both of them. A way to relieve the tension between them had been building up in the months since Ellie rented out her father’s house to cover the mortgage and moved into a spare bedroom in the garage.

Ellie isn’t the kind of girl who just sleeps around, or she wasn’t. She’s only been with one man besides Kaneko, her college boyfriend who she was with for three years. When her father died, he couldn’t handle her grief and had broken up with her. Ellie squeezes her eyes shut to keep herself from crying. Who is she now? She can barely recognize herself.

She slips out of Kaneko’s bed to return to her own. She lies awake wondering what the crew is going to think of the new development between her and their boss, if it even means anything. Maybe no one noticed them slipping away. Maybe no one will even care.

…

The crew finds out there’s something going on between Ellie and Kaneko gradually. A lingering look there, Ellie not being in her room when someone goes to look for her late at night, a hand that rests on the small of her back for just a moment too long to be friendly.

They never announce it exactly, but at some point, it just becomes clear that everyone knows. Logan is the only one who ever directly says anything about it to her. Months after she and Kaneko start hooking up, Logan pulls Ellie aside on a lazy day in the garage, asks her if she’s okay, if she’s happy. Ellie assures him she’s fine, but she doesn’t say anything about whether or not she’s happy.

She and Teppei fall into a routine. She sleeps in his room most nights, he’ll kiss her in front of the crew, and his associates. Gradually, everyone just comes to accept that they’re together, that she’s his. Once, at a drag show, Salazar threatens her, but his goonies quickly try to silence him, with a whispered warning of “She’s Kaneko’s man, he’ll have you murdered.” He apologizes and slinks away.

Ellie feels that things are going fine, although she still feels lonely, adrift. She doesn’t think Kaneko loves her, she thinks he’s just lonely too. But maybe that’s enough? Two lonely people rolling around in bed together, so they don’t feel so alone for a few fleeting moments. But everything changes, when Ellie meets Colt and realizes maybe she can feel more than not lonely, maybe she can feel whole.

…

Before Ellie knows it, it’s been almost a year with the crew. She sees photos of her classmates graduating on pictagram, she stalks their LinkedIn pages to see what incredible jobs they’re getting. It feels very unfair.

Teppei doesn’t say anything about his son returning after finishing up his bachelor’s degree after five years at UC Davis. But then again, Teppei and Ellie don’t really talk much in general. It’s not the type of subject that would have come up as they lie in bed together afterwards, making awkward small talk since they don’t really know how to talk to each other. So, when she and Ximena return one day from a job, and she sees Teppei and a younger version of Teppei standing in the garage, she’s surprised.

Teppei waves Ellie over, and Ximena makes her way to her room after tossing a cheery wave to Kaneko’s offspring. “You’re back. How did it go? Did the cobras give you guys any trouble?” Kaneko asks, business coming first.

“It was fine. They didn’t want to pay the agreed price at first, but after Ximena took a crowbar to the car’s hood, they reconsidered and came around. Who’s this?” Ellie replies.

“This is my son Colt. Colt, this is my girlfriend.” Teppei introduces. Ellie’s heart fills a little at being referred to as his girlfriend, he’s never called her that before.

Ellie extends her hand to Kaneko’s scowling son. “Hey, I’m Ellie.”

Colt doesn’t take her extended hand. “Jesus Christ Dad, how old is she?!” He complains, glaring at his subtly smirking father.

Ellie’s eyes narrow, crossing her arms over her chest. “She isn’t deaf or mute.” She spits out.

Colt’s eyes narrow as well. “Too bad, I think I would have liked you more if you didn’t talk.” He retorts.

The two early 20-somethings glare at each other.

‘What’s this gold digger up to?’ Colt thinks, looking Ellie up and down.

‘Who does this asshole think he is?’ Ellie wonders, taking in Colt’s sullen displeased expression.

“Well, I see you two are getting along famously. Oh, by the way Ellie, you’ve been staying in Colt’s room, but now that he’s back, why don’t you officially move in with me?” Teppei proposes.

Ellie’s eyes widen. First the girlfriend comment, and now officially sharing a room? Is there actually potential here for a real relationship? For an actual future? She doesn’t bother to question if that’s something she actually wants.

Ellie smiles. “That works for me. I’ll bring my stuff up.”

“Do it quick. I want to get settled.” Colt adds harshly, hoisting a duffle bag onto his shoulder and heading off to his room.

Ellie rolls her eyes as she follows behind him. If she and Teppei end up becoming a real thing, is she going to be expected to act like this brat’s stepmother? She doesn’t think she can do it, and she doesn’t think Colt would let her for one second.

…

Ellie watches with angry crossed arms as Teppei and the rest of the crew leave for a job. A job Teppei said she wasn’t ready for, that she couldn’t handle it. She hates when he underestimates her. He has no idea what she’s capable of. She wonders if the crew is doing something really bad, really evil, and that’s why he doesn’t want her to know.

Ellie expels an irritated huff, stomping over to the kitchen to make herself some lunch.

“Stop throwing a temper tantrum, if you think you’re old enough to date a grown man you should stop acting like a toddler.” Colt taunts from the front desk.

Ellie doesn’t bother responding with words, flipping Colt her middle finger. He’s been here a month now, and their relationship has not improved at all from the bad impression they both got of each other at their initial meeting. Teppei doesn’t seem to care that they don’t get along, never attempting to get in the middle or forge some kind of bonding between them.

Colt abandons the front desk, coming into the kitchen to make his own snack. He doesn’t return to his post even as the phone starts ringing, continuing to make his sandwich.

“Aren’t you gonna get that?” Ellie asks, irritated when the phone starts to ring again after Colt lets the first call go to voicemail.

“Why don’t you get it?” Colt counters.

“It’s not my job.”

“What is your job? It sure as hell doesn’t seem to be being an actual member of the crew.”

“I’m more in the crew than you are. You just get to answer phones. Is that what you studied for in college? Or did you get such bad grades that now Daddy is the only one who would give you a job?” Ellie retorts angrily.

“At least I finished college.” Colt hisses back, knowing it will hurt her. He knows the circumstances of why she had to drop out, what drew her to the crew instead of the professional career she had been working towards.

“Fuck you Colt.” She angrily finishes adding toppings to her salad, storming out of the kitchen and to her and Teppei’s room with her meal.

…

The crew starts going on more and more jobs without Ellie. Eventually, Teppei reveals it’s because he doesn’t fully trust her yet. He says she’ll need to prove her loyalty with time before he can bring her in on everything.

This lack of trust enrages Ellie. She’s been nothing but loyal to the crew, to Teppei, and he has the gall to tell her to her face that he just doesn’t trust her? She storms away before the tears welling up in her eyes begin to fall. She won’t give that man the satisfaction of her tears.

She goes up to the roof to cry, thinking she’ll be alone there, but Colt comes up a few minutes later, smoking a joint. He seems alarmed at her tears; no doubt consoling crying women is not part of his repertoire of skills. So, he silently hands over the joint, which she takes gratefully. And they don’t talk as they pass it back and forth, but they both feel a subtle shift in their dynamic.

A gulf starts to grow between Teppei and Ellie. They lay in the same bed every night, but when Teppei reaches for her Ellie complains that she has a headache, or that she’s just not in the mood.

“Ellie, we’re leaving.” Teppei informs her weeks later as the crew heads out to another job she’s not involved in. She’s not involved in very much now-a-days, besides with the mess with the Brotherhood. Teppei needed all hands on deck for that one so he was forced to bring both her and Colt in.

“Teppei, when are you going to trust me? What do I have to do to show you that I’m 100% in?” Ellie asks as he turns around.

He turns back to face her, running a hand through his long dark hair. “There’s nothing you can do. It just takes time. The rest of the crew have been with me for years, they’ve shown their dedication.”

“And I haven’t? The fact that I’m here and not enrolled trying to finish my degree now that I’ve saved up some money doesn’t show you that I’m in?” Ellie counters.

Teppei lets out an impatient sigh. “I have to go. We can talk about this when I get back.” Teppei pulls her into a brief kiss before turning away and following the rest of the crew out of the garage.

Ellie sighs, she’s so sick of this. Maybe she should just leave if she’s not even a full-fledged member of the crew. But can she go back to college, and studying, and exams, when now she knows the thrill of running from the police? Pulling off a great heist? Coming up with a fool proof plan to get away with it time and time again?

She leans against a car propped up on a jack.

“Whoa! Hey!” A voice calls out from under the car.

“Huh?” Ellie looks down as Colt rolls himself out from under the car.

“You trying to drop this hunk of junk on me? I know you don’t like me, but are you seriously trying to kill me?” He complains, glaring at her. His eyes soften somewhat at the sad look in her eyes.

“Can I lend a hand?” Ellie asks. It’ll be good to keep busy, make herself at least feel useful around the garage. She can tell Colt is thinking it over, so she adds, “I just…really need to keep my mind occupied right now.”

“Fine, lie down on that creeper.” Colt instructs, and Ellie follows his instructions, joining him under the car.

Colt meddles with the undercarriage. “We’re trying to get this driveshaft out. So, what’s got you all mopey?”

Ellie reaches into the undercarriage, loosening the wires around the driveshaft. “Why? So you can make fun of me?”

“I don’t make fun of you that much now-a-days.” Colt reminds her. They have been getting along better lately, mostly bonding over how they’re both irritated with how Teppei won’t let them really be in the crew.

“I really wanted to go on this job. I feel like I’ve proven myself time and time again and it’s never enough.” Ellie reveals.

“He’s never going to trust you. I think you remind him of my mom, who he thought was all in, but then she took me and left when he wouldn’t give up crime. For what it’s worth, I don’t think you’re like my mom. I trust you.” Colt refuses to make eye contact, fighting the blush rising to his cheeks when he can feel her turn to look at him as he finally gets the driveshaft out.

They both wheel themselves out from under the car, wiping the grease on their hands off on towels.

“Really? You trust me?”

“Sure, you really bailed us out with the Grapevine job.” Colt tries to play it off. “You’re smart, and I could really use your help if you have any ideas for how to deal with the Brotherhood. I feel like this is my big chance, my Dad finally bringing me into the fold, and I can’t fuck this up. Want to go for a ride? Out to the shore. It always…clears my mind.”

He steps to his motorcycle and tentatively holds out a helmet for her.

Ellie takes the offered helmet, buckling it on as Colt sits on his motorcycle. She gets on behind him, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist and trying to ignore the well-defined abs she can feel as he revs the engine.

…

“I can’t believe your dad made you jump from here as a small child.” Ellie mutters with disbelief after Colt tells her the story.

Colt chuckles, watching the sun set the sky on fire over the cliff’s edge. “What? That doesn’t jive with the warm cuddly image you have of your crime lord boyfriend?”

“My dad would have tried to stop me from jumping, worried about me getting hurt. Teppei doesn’t seem to have a paternal bone in his body.”

“Don’t let him get you pregnant.” Colt taunts, but there’s an underlying edge to his tone.

“You have to have sex to get pregnant.” Ellie mutters, looking away when he turns to look at her curiously.

“You’ve never-“

She interrupts. “We have. But not lately. We’re basically just roommates at this point.”

Colt seems to absorb that silently. Ellie is a little embarrassed that she’s revealed so much to Colt, so she changes the subject. “So, are we gonna jump?” Ellie asks.

“Seriously? You want to jump?”

Ellie is already stripping down into her underwear. “Seriously!”

Colt quickly strips down to just his boxers. Ellie can’t help but admire his fit physique. He’s hot, and young, and she’s definitely thinking things she should not be about her boyfriend’s son. But there’s definitely a hunger in his eyes as he takes her in practically naked that shows there are feelings on both sides. Feelings they should ignore.

Ellie shakes her head to try to clear it of any impure thoughts. “On the count of three.”

“One, two, three!” Colt calls out, and the pair run towards the edge together. Ellie can’t help but grip Colt’s hand just before they jump, and suddenly she’s not afraid.

They hit the water several moments later, and Ellie swims up to the surface. She spits out water and looks for Colt, who surfaces a few seconds later to her right. She swims over to him, drawn to him like a magnet.

He pushes his wet hair out of his face, grinning at her. “I almost forgot what that felt like.”

“See? Are you done downplaying everything?”

Colt looks at her with an intensity she’s not used to, and it stirs the fire that she’s felt building between them for months now. “Maybe I am.” He says, just before reaching out to cup her neck and bring her lips to his.

They fall into each other, like they’ve been waiting forever to do this. Colt’s fingers thread through her hair as he pulls her closer, treading water with just his legs as his free hand grips her hip. He bites her bottom lip gently, and then slips his tongue in her mouth when she lets out a little gasp of surprise.

Ellie’s arms grip his shoulders, trying to bring him even closer. She can’t get enough of him as her mouth moves hungrily over his. The electricity she feels as their tongues tangle is much more intense than any tingles she’s ever felt with Teppei, or any other man for that matter.

“Colt.” She murmurs as she rolls her hips against the bulge she can feel growing in his wet boxers.

Suddenly, he pulls away. “You’re with my dad. I can’t do this to him, or the crew.” He laments. Before Ellie can respond, he’s pulled her back in and is kissing her furiously once again, and she forgets what she even wanted to say.

He pulls away again, this time putting some distance between them. “Damn it, what’s wrong with me?!” Colt shouts, slamming his fist into the water.

“Colt, look, things are complicated with me and Teppei. I don’t think we were ever really together, and I feel like we’re certainly not together now.”

“Does he know that?” Colt challenges.

Ellie raises a brow. “Do you want to be the one to tell him?”

“That’s not my place. You have to be the one to do it.”

“And I will. When the timing is right, and it doesn’t leave me homeless and unemployed.” Ellie retorts.

Colt looks like he wants to say something else, but Ellie cuts him off with a gentle kiss that he eagerly deepens. “I want to be with you, but we have to be smart about this.” Ellie says softly.

Because they both know Teppei isn’t going to just give them his blessing and be happy for them.

Minutes later, the pair has climbed back up the cliff and put their clothes back on.

Ellie re-braids her hair, turning to look at Colt as they walk toward his motorcycle. “So, I was thinking about our problem with the Brotherhood…”

“You mean, how do we free ourselves from a violent gang without a full-on-turf war we’d definitely lose?”

“We need to offer them more than cars and money, we need to offer them the thing they want more than anything.” Ellie explains.

“Like what? They control the city, they have everything they could possibly want.”

“Then we make them think they don’t.” Ellie presses.

Colt pauses as he puts on his helmet, mulling it over. “…. huh.”

…

The only sound in the dark room is their labored breathing as they catch their breath. Ellie starts to climb off Colt’s lap, but he tightens his grip on her bare hips, keeping her in place.

“Again.” He murmurs, running a hand through her sweat dampened hair as he starts rocking up into her once again.

Ellie lets out a moan, digging her nails into his shoulders as she fights her urge to move with him. “I can’t. If I’m gone too long, he’ll be suspicious.”

“He’ll be in his office all night going over blueprints for tomorrow.” Colt insists. One hand leaves her hip to cup her cheek, bringing her lips to his for a tender kiss. “Stay with me tonight.”

Teppei trusts her now, after the success of her and Colt’s plan to take down the Brotherhood. They’re finally both all the way in with the crew. The fact that Teppei finally trusts her makes her feel worse about these trysts with Colt, but not bad enough to stop.

Ever since the night they went cliff diving, she sneaks out of Teppei’s bed in the middle of the night, tiptoeing down the stairs to his son’s room where they fall into his bed, mouths fused and hands eagerly shedding clothing. She continues to reject Teppei’s advances, saying she’s just not in the mood. She can tell he’s getting frustrated with her, but not frustrated enough to break up with her.

She wishes he would. Ellie doesn’t know how to end it, how to tell Teppei that she’s leaving him for his son. She knows it wouldn’t go over well. She’s not sure what Teppei is capable of in the face of such a betrayal.

Despite her fear of Teppei, her love of Colt makes her continue to risk getting caught in order to be with him. Colt loves her too, he’s told her so. Something his father has never said even though they’ve been together for over a year.

Colt has stopped urging her to tell Teppei. Now with time to think about it, he says they need a plan first. Their own money, their own criminal operation. Their own base. Colt has promised that he’s working on it, but these things take time. He can’t use any of his father’s contacts, he has to act secretly, and know who to trust, which is notoriously difficult in their circles.

But they’re in love, and some how they’re going to make it work.

…

“Shhh…. don’t cry baby. I promise you it’s going to be ok.” Colt soothes, kissing her forehead as he hugs her to him.

Despite his comforting words, Ellie doesn’t feel any better. There’s no way this is going to be ok. They should have been more careful. Ellie continues to cry into his shirt, clinging to his leather jacket desperately to keep him close.

“What are we going to do? I can’t get an abortion Colt, I went to Catholic school.”

Colt gently runs a hand through her hair before cupping her cheek. “No one is asking you to do that Ellie. This baby was conceived in love, of course we’re keeping it.”

“Then what are we going to do?!” Ellie asks again, looking up at him.

“Look, I hate to even suggest this, but if you sleep with my dad again could you convince him it’s his? Just to buy us a few months while I get the money we’ll need to start over.” Colt says weakly, hating the words as they come out of his mouth, but not seeing what else to do in this situation.

Ellie shakes her head. “I can’t. I’m already three months along. I’m going to start showing soon and the dates wouldn’t add up. He’s not stupid. Oh my god, what are we going to do?!”

“Shh.” He tries to soothe again. “Try to breathe sweetheart. Getting this riled up isn’t good for our baby.”

Ellie takes several deep breaths as Colt rubs circles into her back, trying to help her relax the tight muscles.

“We have to tell him the truth.” Colt finally acknowledges.

“He’ll kill us.” Ellie replies. “Like he killed the Brotherhood.”

“He won’t, he cares too much about appearances, legacy.” Colt rests his hand on Ellie’s stomach. “This right here? It’s the future of the Kaneko family, heir to the empire.”

Ellie squeezes her eyes shut, feeling like she’s going to be sick. She’s not as confident as Colt in the power of legacy and appearances.

…

“I need to tell you something.” Colt announces a week later, Ellie at his side as they stand in Teppei’s office.

Teppei looks over some documents. “Can it wait?” He asks, circling something in red.

“No, it’s important.” Colt responds.

“Then hurry up and tell me, I don’t have all day.” Teppei mutters, scratching something out and rewriting a number in black ink.

Colt looks to Ellie, slipping his hand into her’s. Teppei doesn’t even notice.

Colt takes a deep breath before he speaks. “Ellie is pregnant with my baby. We’re in love and once I have enough money together, we’ll leave and set up out East, we’ll be out of your hair.” Colt says, voice strong and clear. But there’s an underlying nervousness that he can’t hide, a slight waver at the end when Teppei finally looks up, eyes narrowed.

The older Kaneko drops his pen, leaning back in his chair with eyes closed. He’s counting. Colt gulps. Teppei only counts when he’s so angry he’s afraid he’ll do something he regrets. “How long have you two been messing around behind my back?” He asks, thinly concealed rage evident in his tone.

“Six months.” Ellie admits softly.

Teppei glares at her. Ellie’s never felt Teppei’s rage directed at her, and if not for Colt’s grip on her hand she would have taken a step back. “Six months? For six months, you’ve been sleeping with my son? Lying to my face? After everything I’ve done for you? You ungrateful bitch.”

“You’re not going to talk to her like that.” Colt retorts, eyes narrowed.

Teppei’s enraged glare moves from Ellie to Colt. “And you. My own son? My only child? I offer you everything and this is what you do? Try to publicly humiliate me and drag the Kaneko name through the mud? Do you know how weak this would make me look? You’re trying to destroy everything my father, and his father, and his father before him worked for, you fucking traitor.”

“Fine, if you’re so worried about your precious reputation we can leave now. I’ll figure out the money.” Colt replies, starting to walk towards the door.

Kaneko moves quicker than either Ellie or Colt knew he could, gripping Colt’s arm roughly and turning him to face him. “You’re not going anywhere. There’s nowhere you can go where this won’t get out, where it won’t humiliate me.”

“Then we’ll leave the country.” Colt insists.

“I said no! You’ll stay in the country and do what you’re fucking told boy.” Teppei spits out. He rubs at his temples, formulating a plan. “I’ll tell everyone the baby is mine. It’s going to look like me after all.” Teppei decides.

“No.” Colt immediately responds.

“You’re in no position to try to tell me anything. I’ll blacklist your name all over the country, all over the world. You’ll never be able to get set up anywhere. I’ll ruin you Colt. Love won’t pay the bills. Love won’t feed your baby.”

Ellie’s eyes water as she takes in Teppei’s words. He’s trapping her in some type of loveless prison out of spite, and pride.

“Dad-“ Colt tries again to reason with his father, but Teppei puts up a hand to silence him.

“I’m not done. You’ll be going to Florida Colt. I’ve been in the process of setting up an operation there. You seem like the perfect man for the job.”

“I’m not leaving Ellie, or my baby.” Colt replies, hand squeezing her hand to the point where it almost hurts, but he seems so desperate to hang on to her that she says nothing.

“My girlfriend. And as far as anyone will know my baby.” Teppei replies darkly. “They’ll be fine, assuming you do as you’re told. Otherwise, I’m not so sure what will happen to them.”

“You sick motherfu-“ Colt starts, but Ellie interrupts him, pulling him down for a too brief kiss. He can taste her salty tears when she pulls away.

“Colt, I love you, but I can’t.” Ellie thinks back to the days after her father died, when she was desperate, and destitute, and scared. She can’t live like that, their baby shouldn’t have to live like that, struggling constantly and fearful of when Teppei will strike.

“Ellie, no. We’ll figure this out. I love you, and I’m not going to lose you.”

“You lose her either way. But I’m offering you a way where she and your baby are comfortable. What is it going to be?” Teppei asks.

…

3 years later

“Ellie, look up.” Teppei instructs as Ellie carries a tray of food over to the table. She’s trying to be a good hostess for this Christmas party, which would be easier if Teppei wasn’t constantly doing performative couple things like trapping her under the mistletoe for their audience of LA’s biggest criminals.

Ellie plasters on a fake smile, leaning up to give Teppei a chaste kiss.

Teppei returns a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes, patting her bottom as she walks away.

“When are you going to marry that girl Kaneko? Hasn’t it been like 5 years? And you guys have a kid.” Salazar yells drunkenly, swaying unsteadily from too much eggnog.

Teppei shrugs. “I didn’t marry the mother of my other kid.”

Salazar laughs, clapping Kaneko heartily on the back. He’s clearly really drunk, thinking he can be so friendly with LA’s deadliest car criminal.

“Daddy!” A little girl clad in snowflake decorated pajama yells, running into Kaneko’s arms.

Teppei smiles, a real one this time. He loves his granddaughter dearly, despite the circumstances of her conception. He tickles her before throwing her onto his shoulders. “You’re supposed to be asleep Noelle.” He chides.

“How is anyone supposed to sleep through this?” Mona asks, chewing on a gingerbread cookie.

Noelle giggles as Logan makes silly faces at her. “I would also love to be asleep. Can we start clearing this party out soon?” Logan asks.

“All the guests haven’t arrived yet, so the party can’t end.” Kaneko insists.

“Who’s not here? They’re three hours late!” Toby complains.

“Yeah, yeah, you try getting in on time coming from the East Coast during winter.” Colt replies, dropping his duffle back to the floor.

“You live in Miami Colt, I assume you’re not getting delayed by too many winter storms.” Logan retorts, rolling his eyes.

“But my connection went through DC, asshole.” Colt fires back, glaring at his old nemesis.

“Colt.” Teppei greets warmly, for appearances of course. He can’t have people noticing splinters in the Kaneko family. That’s why he has to invite Colt to these gatherings, lest people get suspicious.

“Dad.” Colt returns, less warm, but nothing that would raise alarms to the deep-seated troubled relationship between father and son.

“Daddy, I want cake.” Noelle says when she spots her mother coming towards the group, a plate with a sliver of cake in her hands.

Colt winces when Noelle calls Teppei ‘Daddy’. That always hurts.

“Say hi to your brother first.” Teppei insists, taking Noelle off his shoulders and handing her to Colt.

“Hi Colt!” Noelle says happily, squeezing his neck in a hug.

“Hi Noelle. I can’t believe how big you are. I missed you!” Colt returns, hugging her tightly. He sets his daughter on the ground, turning to face Ellie. She looks beautiful in her red Christmas dress, and he physically aches from his desire to pull her into his arms and kiss her in greeting. But they don’t do stuff like that anymore, so instead he nods at her respectfully. “Ellie.”

“Colt. How was your flight?” Ellie returns.

“Delayed, but it was fine.” Colt answers, and that’s that. They have nothing else to say to each other.

“Mommy, I want cake.” Noelle says again.

“No Noelle, we already brushed your teeth.” Ellie replies.

“But I want cake!” The little girl complains, starting to throw a fit.

“Come on Ellie, it’s Christmas. I’ll re-brush her teeth.” Colt offers.

“Well aren’t you the sweetest big brother?” Ximena teases, squeezing Colt’s cheek.

Colt waves her off, taking the rest of the cake from Ellie and handing it to Noelle, who grins at him. “Thank you Colt! I love you!”

“I love you too peanut.” Colt replies.

After re-brushing her teeth, Colt tucks Noelle into bed. The music from downstairs is loud, so he sets his phone onto her nightstand and plays lullaby music as his daughter drifts off to sleep. He smiles when her sleepy brown eyes drift shut, placing a kiss to her forehead.

“She’s going to be so confused when we tell her the truth.” Ellie mutters from the doorway as she watches Colt put their daughter to sleep.

“Kids are resilient. She’ll adapt.” Colt insists.

“How much longer?” Ellie whispers after she closes Noelle’s door, walking closer to Colt.

Colt draws Ellie into his arms, like he’s wanted to do all night, kissing her slowly and thoroughly. “Three more months.” He whispers against her lips, before he kisses her again.

“And you’re sure he’s not going to be able to find us?” Ellie asks, still dubious that their long nightmare could be ending.

“Not in Cuba. Thanks to the embargo he’s never had any business there, no contacts. And then we go from Cuba to London with new identities. It’s fool proof Ellie, I promise you. You just have to trust me.”

“I do trust you. I love you Colt.”

“And I love you Ellie.”

…

taglist: @brightpinkpeppercorn @choicesarehard @lovehugsandcandy@desiree-0816 @regina-and-happiness @iplaydrake @choicesgremlin @maxwellsquidsuit @eileendannie @liamzigmichael4ever @ohsnapitzlovehacker @client-327 @cora-nova @umiumichan @angrypainterfarmopera @badchoicesposts @i-only-signed-up-for-fanfiction @sparklinglilac @pixel-thirsty @mrskaneko @lovemychoices @akrenich @crispycrunchyleaves

#colt x mc #teppei kaneko #colt kaneko #choices fanfiction #ride or die #ns*w

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therainroguefanfiction · 4 years

Text

🎃 Frightful October Act VIII, #24 ~ Jane the Ripper (Denki Kaminari)

📑 Table of Contents

Genre: Angst, Dark, Fluff, Romance

Word Count: 1,888

Pairing: Slight Yandere/Female Reader x Kaminari

World: Boku no Hero Academia

WARNING: This fic contains depictions of gore and male mutilation. Read at your own risk.

Can I just say how proud I feel to have written this fic with 1,888 words exactly? If you didn’t know, the Jack the Ripper killings took place in the year 1888 and, clearly, this fic was heavily inspired by him. It wasn’t planned and I did not edit this fic to be at that length, it was that length when I finished the fic and popped it into wordcounter and it’s fucking brilliant.

───── ⋆⋅🎃⋅⋆ ─────

Jane the Ripper.

Considered a villain by some and a hero by others, Jane exacts revenge against men that cheat on their significant others. If she finds a man that has cheated, she will judge them by stabbing them through the chest to trap them, cut off their ring finger, castrate them, and then drive a dagger through their heart. Since she cropped up three years ago, the rate at which men cheat has drastically reduced, but there are still those that must be judged, must be punished.

And Jane won’t rest until every single pig has been slain.

───── ⋆⋅🎃⋅⋆ ─────

You were a student of U.A.’s prestigious hero course, part of class 1-A. To your peers, you were a nice person, if not a bit reserved, but no one hated you, not even Bakugo. The truth was that you had no interest in being a pro hero. You came to U.A. for one reason – to watch over your boyfriend, Denki Kaminari. It’s not that you didn’t trust him. You did, to a degree, but it was impossible for you to fully trust anyone. That fact that he was a super flirt didn’t help your trust issues, either.

“Hey, Kaminari, you wanna join us for a milkshake?” Ashido asked, her voice full of excitement. She motioned towards the door where Uraraka, Midoriya, Jirou, and Iida stood, waiting patiently while she gathered more people.

“Sure, sounds fun!” his cheerful expression toward her really pissed you off. He turned his beautiful yellow eyes to meet yours. “You’re coming, too, right, Y/N?”

You hid your anger behind a bright smile. “I’d love to.” ‘Only so I can keep an eye on that bitch.’

Mina Ashido had no interest in your boyfriend, she was just a cheerful, outgoing person, but you didn’t care. Interested in him or not, she shouldn’t be getting so close to someone that belonged to you.

───── ⋆⋅🎃⋅⋆ ─────

It was just after midnight, the full moon bathing the town with a bright, almost ethereal light. The quiet night was broken by a masculine scream, echoing through the streets. Dogs started to bark loudly, trying to alert their owners to something very wrong.

A middle-aged man ran down an alleyway, breathing heavy as his sneakers pounded the pavement. He was terrified, crying out for someone to save him, but all of the pro heroes were too busy elsewhere, just as planned. There was no one around to save him.

Laughter echoed around him as a blur of black rushed overhead, stopping to kneel a few feet before him. He screamed, stumbling back onto his butt. You stood up tall, cape billowing around you in the chilly autumn wind. A wide grin split your face, red eyes glowing from behind a masquerade mask.

“Kian Onizuka, you have been judged,” you took slow, deliberate steps forward, sliding a knife from your sleeve and into the palm of your left hand.

“W-W-Wait, Jane!” The man scrambled back across the pavement, holding his hands up in surrender. “I didn’t cheat on my wife, I swear! We didn’t do anything!”

“The punishment for infidelity… is death!” you threw the blade, propelling it forward with your telekinesis. It slammed into the center of his chest, the force knocking the wind from him as he fell back flat against the cement. The blade cut clean through his body, digging into the cement before two hooks sprung out from the tip, securing it in place.

The man screamed, his hands flying to the hilt. He tried to pull it out, but the spikes prevented any movement.

You chuckled darkly at his futile attempts, a blade falling into your right hand. You kneeled down beside him, your free hand gently rubbing his stomach before moving toward his crotch. He stopped struggling, eyes locking with yours as you slowly unbuttoned his jeans. His breath was coming out in small clouds and you could see his penis starting to enlarge, pushing against the fabric.

Your lips curled up in disgust. “This turns you on, you filthy pig?” You grabbed his dick tightly, squeezing it tightly. He yelped in pain, trying to pull your hand away. You cackled and, with one clean slice, you cut his dick from his body. He screamed, body thrashing wildly as blood splurted from the room.

“May you suffer for eternity in hell,” you snarled, grabbing the hilt of the first blade and tugging it up, the spikes demolishing his insides and piercing his heart in the process. You picked up his hand and sliced through his ring finger.

He coughed up blood, gasping for air, but his body stilled, the life fading from his eyes.

You dipped your white gloves into his blood, writing a warning for all to see on the wall beside his corpse. With another disgusting look, you turned on your heel and disappeared into the night.

───── ⋆⋅🎃⋅⋆ ─────

“Did you see the news last night? Jane the Ripper claimed another victim!” Ashido announced as she slammed her lunch tray onto the table.

Sero shuddered, holding himself. “I can’t believe a villain goes around castrating men.”

“This chick clearly can’t get any!” Bakugo laughed loudly before stuffing his face.

You glared down at your lunch, stuffing a spoonful of rice into your mouth to keep yourself from speaking your mind. ‘Those damn fools. I am cleansing this world of filth for them. They should be grateful.‘

“She only attacks men that have cheated on their partners,” Jirou added before smirking. “Kaminari is the only one in danger at this table.”

Your head snapped up, eyes narrowed at her. Did she know something that you didn’t?

Denki scowled at her. “What kind of person do you take me for? I would never cheat on Y/N!”

“I bet you know all about such things, don’t you, Y/N?” Monoma approached the table with a smirk. You snapped your angry gaze to him but held your tongue. This only made his smirk grow.

“What are you talking about?” Ashido asked.

“Oh, Y/N didn’t tell you?” he clicked his tongue, his eyes never leaving yours. “Y/N’s dad was a man-whore that slept with anything that had a pulse. His wife was so ignorant, it took her years to figure it out, and when she finally did -” he made a slicing motion with his finger. “She castrated him while their five-year-old child watched. Poor thing, ne, Y/N~”

‘How does this bastard know all that?!’ your eyes were wide, fists clenched so tightly that your nails broke the skin. The table was dead silent, everyone’s eyes on your shaking form. The silverware began to shake violently as you stood up, eyes flashing. “That fucking bastard got what he deserved. He cheated on her for years without remorse, even in our home! All men are fucking pigs that deserve to be punished for their sins! Jane the Ripper is my hero!”

Gasps and murmurs broke out across the cafeteria, eyes following you as you stalked out of the room, surrounded by floating cutlery. You had worked so damn hard to keep your secret hidden, to hide the dark past in which you suffered on a daily basis. You tried so fucking hard and that bastard ruined it with just a few words. Your hands fisted into fists.

‘No man can be trusted.’

You left the school that day, skipping the rest of your classes. Denki had a bad feeling settling in his gut. How could he have known you for so long without knowing how much anger, how much hatred you harbored toward men? Why didn’t he recognize your pain, your cries for help?

He felt like a failure as your boyfriend.

───── ⋆⋅🎃⋅⋆ ─────

Denki stood outside your apartment door, his hand hovering over the doorknob. Swallowing his nerves, he pushed the door open and slipped inside. You were sitting on the couch, cleaning an assortment of knives and daggers.

You didn’t bother looking up.

“You’re not coming back to U.A. are you?” he asked, softly, hovering in the doorway.

“Nope.”

“Why?”

Your eyes slid to meet his, softening a bit. “You know why, Denki.”

He took a shaky breath. “You… you’re Jane the Ripper.”

You smiled, holding up the blade to the light as you inspected it. “That’s correct.”

“You hate men.”

“No,” you pursed your lips. “I don’t trust men.”

“But you trust me…” he stepped closer, his eyes pleading with you. “Don’t you?”

You placed the knife on the table and approached him. You expected his body to tense up, for fear to shine in his eyes, but you only saw pain and love. You rested your hand on his cheek, which he covered with his own. “No matter what happened, you’ve always been by my side. Do you… hate me?”

“I could never hate you, Y/N! I just… it hurts,” his hand tightening around yours as tears sprung to his eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me? About your parents, about what you were feeling? I could have -”

“Saved me?” you raised a brow with a bitter smile. “Afraid not, my love. You’re going to be an amazing hero someday, Denki,” you tried to pull your hand away but he refused to release his grip.

“Don’t leave me,” he whispered, free hand grasping at your hip. “I had everything planned out for us. Getting married after graduation, buying a house, having kids… I can’t picture that with anyone else!”

Your heart seized painfully and you lowered your head. Your entire life, people looked down on you for what your mother had done. They looked at you with pity. You couldn’t remember a time when you didn’t feel like a monster. No one ever showed you love or treated you like a human being until the day you met Denki. He was an angel that you didn’t deserve.

He moved his hand from your hip to lift your chin, his lips claiming yours in a kiss full of love and passion. You could feel the desires of his heart and it made you feel more guilty than you already did.

You tugged yourself away from him, turning your back. “Go be a hero, Denki. Forget about me, you can do better.”

“I’m not leaving you,” his words were firm.

You scowled at him. “A hero can’t date a villain.”

“You can still be a hero!”

You scoffed, sitting on the side of the table with your elbows on your knees. “Do you even know how many men I’ve killed? I’m not just a villain, I’m a serial killer. There is no hope for me anymore.”

“It’s never too late to change!” he kneeled down in front of you, taking your hands into his. “Please… promise me you won’t kill anyone else. Focus on me and only me. I will never betray you, Y/N.”

You could see the sincerity in his eyes.

Denki reached up, wiping away the tears from your eyes before they could slide down your cheeks. He pressed a chaste kiss on your forehead before bringing you into his arms and holding you against his warm chest. You gripped his waist tightly, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart.

“Denki?”

“Yes, love?”

“You’re the only man I’ve ever trusted. I… I’ll do whatever you tell me to do.”

His grip tightened as he rested his head against yours. “I won’t fail you, Y/N.”

───── ⋆⋅🎃⋅⋆ ─────

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lordeasriel · 5 years

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lord asriel’s quick analysis

Or why redemption isn’t always necessary.

Given that some people asked me to finish it and that I want to finish it, here’s my stroke over Lord Asriel’s arc. This is based on a post someone made it on reddit about the lack of redeeming traits on his part and this is my personal take on Asriel, so ok, here we go:

Let me get this out of the way: the thing about Lord Asriel is that he is not a redeemable character; that is not his purpose nor his story. He never seeks redemption, nor he sees his actions as a product of villainy or evil; in fact, Asriel believes he is quite righteous and he is willing to do whatever the fuck it takes to achieve his goals.

We never get a direct understanding of his motives: he does say he fights for freedom, he states his disgust with the Magisterium and the Kingdom of Heaven, and those who surround him believe in his cause and say, constantly, that his side is the right side, and that he fights for freedom and against the tyranny of the Church.

What is contantly overlooked is the fact Lord Asriel doesn’t require a redemption, this isn’t some sort of requirement a character needs every time they screw up. This, well, aversion to Asriel and the need to have him either punished or redeemed is solely based on the fact he killed Roger in cold blood, sort of, to wage his war for freedom. Was that fucked up? Absolutely! Does this means he requires redemption over that? No, and Philip Pullman himself explains why when Mary Malone says:

“I stopped believing there was a power of good and a power of evil that were outside us. And I came to believe that good and evil are names for what people do, not for what they are.” (The Amber Spyglass)

This has a lot to do with the recurring themes of the books, about morals, ethics and the poor use of free will by some, and it personifies almost every character in the books, from Lyra to Iorek. Everyone has committed some sort of bad deed at some point, but that does not label them as evil, and the same rules apply to Asriel. This is a man who’s crossed the very limits of the multiverse to achieve his goals, by being good in looking after the destruction of the Kingdom, and by being bad while killing Roger (plus being a bad father, a bad uncle, a bad lover, but let us remain philosophical for now).

Asriel is relentless, ruthless and sometimes, even cruel, to Lyra, to Marisa, to anyone really. At Jordan, he walks in, puts the fear of God (unironically lol) into almost everyone, including Lyra and the Master, he takes control of the enviroment and sets on to do what he went to Jordan for: to get money for his plot, so he can tear the sky apart and defy the Kingdom of Heaven. Lyra fears him (righteously) and admires his fierceness, she respects strength and brute force, it is the reason why she is so drawn to violent figures or rude characters, being herself quite rude and arrogant because she mirrors her uncle/dad.

He is considered to be a passionate man by almost everyone, and he causes a great impression in everyone he meets, including the reader. He was written as a likable character at first, made from scratch to fit in the role of the aloof, sometimes austere but caring uncle, or the traveler who serves as the inspiration for the hero (Bilbo Baggins, for quite the literal example, or Professor Kirke in Narnia). Sir Philip describes him, in Northern Lights:

“Then Lord Asriel stood up and turned away from the fire. She saw him fully, and marveled at the contrast he made with the plump Butler, the stooped and languid Scholars. Lord Asriel was a tall man with powerful shoulders, a fierce dark face, and eyes that seemed to flash and glitter with savage laughter. It was a face to be dominated by, or to fight: never a face to patronize or pity. All his movements were large and perfectly balanced, like those of a wild animal, and when he appeared in a room like this, he seemed a wild animal held in a cage too small for it. At the moment his expression was distant and preoccupied.” (page 13, Knopf edition).

He is, at first, compared to other men in Lyra’s life (the scholars, mostly) only to be extravangantly praised for being nothing like those men. Stelmaria, quiet and reserved, beautiful and pacifying, is the ultimate contrast for Asriel; together, they are one, and he is an aristocrat with wild temper, and she is a snow leopard, a predator, but beautiful and wise. These are the representation of Satan, as in Paradise Lost: forsaken and forgotten by history for fighting the Authority, Asriel and Stelmaria are the embodiment of disobedience and they are bound to rebel again because that is their nature. All that’s left to them is a reason and the Magisterium, oh boy, they’ve given them plenty.

Now, think about a man who’s had everything, then this rising power that was the Magisterium, comes and takes everything from him, from his money to his daughter over something, not trivial, but certainly something that didn’t require such harsh method of punishment; considering a lot of his wealth was confiscated and assuming he had to pay a lot of fees and taxes because of the Court Trial, he was very much not the man he was before Mrs. Coulter’s affair with him. He obeys the rules and stays away from Lyra, only to discover her mother is with the Church and that they intend to harm Lyra, even after he played nice. His friends in Oakley Street are trying to protect Lyra, but against the Magisterium, after witnessing how powerful they are, how far gone they are willing to go, things aren’t looking very bright for Asriel. He even says, in Northern Lights:

“They’re stronger than anyone, Asriel! You don’t know-”

“I don’t know? I? No one in the world knows better than I how strong the Church is! But it isn’t strong enough for this. The Dust will change everything, anyway. There’s no stopping it now.” (page 394, Knopf edition).

The Asriel we meet in La Belle Sauvage is younger and a man who’s just been massacred by the Church, as he reminds us of in Northern Lights; he is wounded after all that has happened, almost in a tender way, as if he had been softened by it. But he still is himself; proud, arrogant and scholarly, he risks Lyra’s safety and his own to indulge himself and be with her for a while, to spite the Magisterium and its distasteful influence. Under the moonlight, he loves her so immensely, in such a raw and fiery way, that for a moment Malcolm even thinks Asriel might leave with her, and so did I.

Everything Asriel does, everything that leads to his war in the name of the Republic of Heaven, has to do with Lyra’s birth and how he lost everything because of the injustice the Magisterium imposed on the world; how he had an affair with a woman he loved and how she could easily have gotten a divorce to prevent all of that; how they took his fortune and prestige because he was defiant. The murders, the oppression, his career as a scholar, his life as a whole, and then after the affair, his daughter’s, all was threatened by the Magisterium. It’s hard to say when he decided to fuck up the sky, but I like to think by the time he left Lyra at Jordan, he was already working on his revenge, because when he lost everything, that was his turning point. He doesn’t do any of this because he is a caring, loving person; he does out of hatred and indignation, two powerful tools that fuel his existence for the next twelve years, perhaps even before then, in small dosages.

There’s constant evidence of his hatred for the Church and their dogmas, especially on chapter 21 in Northern Lights, when he monologues to Lyra about Dust and how the Church allowed such things as Bolvangar to happen, implying that as many others, including scholars, he knew about what was happening. There could be a number of reasons as to why he didn’t interfer, and the most obvious one is that he was in prison, so there wasn’t much he could in his position. A second, deeper reason, is Mrs. Coulter’s involvement with Bolvangar, and by involvement I mean leadership, basically. He was fully aware she was the one responsible for Bolvangar, even enlightening us:

“That’s why they had to hide away in the far North, in darkness and obscurity. And why the Church was glad to have someone like your mother in charge, Who could doubt someone so charming, so well-connected, so sweet and reasonable?” (page 374/375, Knopf edition).

He speaks of her work with contempt and distaste, but also in a tone as someone who once fell for her masquerade before fully understanding who she was and her ultimate goal. Being his former lover, he sees the fact she works with the very Church who ruined him because of her, as disgusting despite their weird relationship dynamic, (which I could write a whole essay on but I’m not, because I already did it in college and that essay took me to a very dark place lol) and he despises her relation to the Church far more than he despises the nature of her work. And, as we see in the Amber Spyglass, despite inviting her to come with him, he is not eager to be in her company because he simply doesn’t trust himself when it comes to her and neither does anyone who knows both of them.

But the main reason he didn’t interfere, it’s because Bolvangar’s action, however crude and in favour of his enemies, was something he could take advantage of and their cruelty simply didn’t concern his own work, even if it was a discovery of his own that allowed such a thing. While they were doing something awful, they were too busy to notice his domination over his own house arrest or his plans in general, giving him the time and space he needed to finish his work.

Cruel and straightforward, Asriel is too practical and indecent to say he cared about the children: he hated what they were doing because the Church was tied to it; La Belle Sauvage!Asriel might have interfered and cared about it (he saved gyptian children from a flood, restored Malcolm’s boat, was gentle and wise in a rough way), but Northern Lights!Asriel was simply far too blindsided by his wrath against the Authority and the Church to give a damn. The only moment we see him hesitate is when he sees Lyra in the North, and for a moment he is taken by the shock of thinking he might have to sacrifice Lyra to kill God and destroy the Church, who was trying to, you know, kill Lyra. An ironic and cruel position to put him in, and he would’ve killed her, make no mistake; he keeps away from her because he simply knows he would’ve sacrificed her, or anyone else, including himself, to destroy God and the Magisterium.

Understanding this wild, carefree and inconsequential man is a crude task. The thing is, redemption is an overused trope and not everyone that does something bad needs it (or wants it for the matter), Asriel being the person who least requires it, because:

He is not a villain. I have seen this a lot and it honestly confuses me. Asriel, if anything, plays the part of the antihero, and even then he does so very loosely. We are constantly reassured by him and by basically every third party in the book (Ruta Skadi and her infatuation, John Parry and his wise comprehension, Baruch and Balthamos and their first-hand experience of the Kingdom’s brutality, amongst others) that Asriel is the “hero” of the war, that he is righteous and the one with the right views. He is not your conventional saviour, in fact, he is human and flawed, self-centered and ambitious, but charismatic and knowledgeable; that blur our senses and the lines and we’re stuck thinking he is either a hero or a villain when Asriel is, in fact, neither.

His ultimate goal is clear, albeit readable only between the lines sometimes. He is a liar, arrogant and wrathful, but once we get to the Subtle Knife, his goal is more clear, at least from Thorold and John Parry’s points of view (Ruta Skadi too, but she is far too unreliable for being too infatuated with Asriel): he wants to kill God and take down the Kingdom of Heaven. He says it’s for freedom and blah-blah-blah, and although I believe he seeks that outcome in the end, the reason he is doing this is much more self-serving and closer to revenge rather than doing what is right. He is a spiteful man, whom has been robbed of his wealth and his life by a religious institution who serves God and does anything in the name of God. Asriel wants to take them down because it satiates his need for vengeance, alongside his scholarly nature, by being a pioneer and an explorer of multiple worlds. It’s an ego booster, something to pat yourself on the back for.

He is unapologetic. He never apologises, or seems regretful over his actions. He isn’t apathetic, but he clearly does not resent his own choices. Killing Roger was a tough decision, but one he was intent on making because it was what he needed to do to achieve his purpose (hence his hesitation towards Lyra; he would’ve killed her if Roger wasn’t there). That was by far the most beautiful and sensible death ever written by Pullman: he doesn’t extend it or makes it purposefully dramatic and that’s because Roger’s death was merely a switch for everything else: Lyra and Asriel’s journey. Sir Philip makes us believe that Lyra’s ultimate goal is to stop her warmongering father, then he dismantles Asriel’s portrayal as the endgame bad guy for things of higher nature and Lyra simply stop blaming him, instead blaming herself, and everything she does from them on, is to spite Asriel by always staying away from him and his Republic.

These three aspects of Lord Asriel’s character core are relevant because they exempt him of a redemption arc. He doesn’t need to be redeemed, he asks for no forgiveness and he knew, from the start, where things were going. Perhaps not on Lyra’s account, but the overall outcome of his war. He never backs down, nor hesitates and Ogunwe claims:

“We’re not going to invade the Kingdom,” he said, “but if the Kingdom invades us, they had better be ready for war, because we are prepared.” (page 210, The Amber Spyglass, Knopf edition).

Despite the Republic’s claims of being builders, not conquerors, Asriel was the commander of a massive force and he was, fully aware, that the Kingdom would not leave them be to mind their business. They wanted that war, he wanted that war, and everything he did was because of it. That is why he only is granted peace, in a sense, in death as they plunge down into the abyss; it was a price worth paying for wrecking Heaven. He never truly dies, but instead is forged into oblivion.

A villain can be redeemed, and so can a purposeless character, but Asriel is neither of these things. He has a clear purpose, and he has done good and bad things in his life, he never apologises for what he’s done and he doesn’t intend to. He mimics great rebels of epic stories, and he embodies all that is truthful and essential to human nature: knowledge, passion, rebellious mind, the apex of free will and the wrath against those who do us wrong. He is neither a saint, nor sinner: he is both, as are every person in those books, and he embraces fully his nature. Once again, as Mary said: he’s done bad things, but he isn’t evil himself. No one truly is.

And this is it, sorry for the essay, I have thing for academic men in linen shirts who want to tear Heaven apart lol @laciefuyu this is for you hahah

#his dark materials #lord asriel #hdm #long post #hdm meta #this is like me scratching the surface of my previous thesis lmao #but this will have to do #do i have a lot to say on asriel? yes #i love him so much omfg #sometimes i need to remind myself he isnt real and that hurts #pls authority give me a raging academic as a bf/gf #oh its ok im the raging academic i know #lord asriel: a me: you can fight my freedom anyday hun #hdm spoilers #meta by effie

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