please understand that i will never and can never condone John Winchester’s actions but some of y’all really don’t understand what “he did the best he could” means.
he neglected and at the very least emotionally abused his kids, and there’s a pretty good argument that he might’ve physically abused them as well. he isolated them, prevented them from forming any lasting relationships outside of immediate family, left them alone for days if not weeks on end with firearms and very little food. And that’s not even the half of it. and everything he did was a manifestation of grief and drive to protect his family. which does not in the slightest justify how he treated sam and dean, but it does lay out his morals and motives pretty clearly.
He loves his kids, he really does. and while struggling to deal with his own trauma he was doing everything he could in his mind to keep them safe. but that doesn’t make his best enough, not by a long shot. that doesn’t even make his best efforts good efforts. at the end of the day he abused his kids and royally fucked up their ability to cope with their own grief and trauma in ways that i cannot touch with a 10ft pole rn or i’ll be writing 57 essays right here and now.
and again i hate john just as much as the next person but he did not set out to abuse his kids. he didn’t have nefarious intentions when it came to how he raised his kids. he was a good person who turned into an abusive asshole due to grief, paranoia, and alcoholism. and it makes perfect sense that sam and dean still love him even if they recognize the damage he did to them. because they also know how hard their dad tried, and they’ve said as much several times. and i get it cause that’s how i grew up. my dad did everything he could despite his grief, despite his depression, despite working 14 hour days in poverty and homelessness, and he still neglected and emotionally abused me. not because he was a bad person, but because he had no tools to deal with everything he was going through. and his best wasn’t enough, his best failed me. and i still love my dad cause not every memory was bad, and he does truly love me and my siblings. And i’m lucky in a way that sam and dean never were because my dad recognized where he failed us, owned up to what he did and tries everyday to repair the damage he did.
I have closure, and that’s something sam and dean could never really have. but they do have the clusterfuck of emotions that is he tried his best and it wasn’t enough.
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Tsuna is kind. Tsuna is compassionate. Tsuna, unlike many bosses, does not see himself as more than simply because of his station.
The only people who are capable of bringing out the entitled, spoiled, possessive Mafia Prince - the tiny piece of Tsuna's heart that is a stereotypically behaved Vongolian Sky - are his closest family. And even then, they can only manage it in very specific circumstances.
Allow me to clarify:
Imagine Tsuna, in a café filled with rubble and smoke, looking down at Hayato's fallen form. He stares at the blood seeping out from Hayato's chest - the chest that was torn open when Hayato jumped in front of a bullet meant for Tsuna.
(The assassin's corpse is cooling on the other side of the room, dead too late at the edge of Takeshi's blade.)
Tsuna keeps his eyes locked on Hayato. Hayato, who lies limp and motionless, no matter how much sun flame Ryouhei pumps in to him.
It feels like a dream. It feels fake. He feels detached from it all, like he's watching the world from far above and emotions can only reach him after traveling through a mile of cotton.
"Move," he tells his sun, his dying will flaring in the midst of his strange numbness.
His sun yanks his hands back, as instantaneously as if he were following a reflex instead of words.
Tsuna surveys the scene for another second, still through that mile of cotton, and then decides, "No. No, I refuse."
And, after all, does he not have a right to? He, the holder of the Vongola Sky Ring, the Guard of the Vertical Axis, the Sky of Skies. Is it not his birthright to seize hold of, to command, the threads of time?
He reaches out, burning, and undoes it.
An orange glow erupts around the two of them - his Hayato, and the assassin.
And then there is the assassin, alive again, aiming at a spot Tsuna is no longer at.
And there is Hayato, alive again, throwing himself to protect where Tsuna once stood.
Tsuna already has an arm raised, and sends a blast of power at the assassin. The assassin crumples. And then Tsuna is turning around, spinning towards Hayato, and he feels, within him, a hot, violent rage swell up. How dare he. How dare he.
He stalks over to his Right Hand, hands shaking with anger, and he spits, "You."
His Right Hand looks at him, all wide-eyed and taken off guard. As if he's not a fucking thief.
Tsuna snarls up at him, right up in his space, "Sit."
His Right Hand's knees fold. He just barely manages to catch himself against the table directly behind him, and it's not so much sitting as propping himself up, but Tsuna doesn't fucking care.
Tsuna's fists clench, and he stares directly into those green, green eyes. "You," he seethes, "took an oath, Gokudera Hayato." He feels himself burning, dying will an inferno on his skin. "You swore yourself to me, yes? Your life is mine. You do not have the right to take it from me."
His Right Hand, his storm, his Hayato, says nothing, eyes wide and face pale and lips parted ever so slightly in shock.
Tsuna feels incandescent with rage. "You dare-"
And then he finds himself losing the words, swaying in place as exhaustion slams down across him.
The last thing he feels is Hayato's arms coming up around him, warm and alive and oh so gentle, and the last thing he hears is Takeshi, saying - absolutely delighted, Tsuna knows that tone - "Oh, he is going to be so embarrassed when he wakes up."
And then darkness.
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