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#man i've made lloyd cry a lot
weekend-whip · 8 months
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Ninjago Fic Rec Week: Day 3
Prompts: Angst / Kai Recs! *aka the best combo ahahaaaa*
Angst Recs (get ready for a lot of Wu being sad):
The Tale of the Teacher: BASICALLY a look at Wu's very tragic life through the eyes of Wu himself, and my personal inspiration for all things, well, Wu and tragic (and you do need to be logged into an Ao3 account for this one). A must-read for all Wu fans, and especially for those who are not~
Photographs: Wu reminiscences on all he's lost in the midst of Season 11 through pictures of times gone by~
No Eye For These: Wu reflects on losing his brother, right after just banishing him ;w;
It Will Rain Again Someday: Not necessarily angst but fills me with enough emotional damage to feel like it is, Wu adores his older brother so so so so much, even when they butt heads, even when they have opposing but equal opinions, even when they're on opposite sides of the battle field...probably the most potent Spinjitzu Brothers thing I've ever read. Changed my brain chemistry, man.
for want (for nothing): the staff corrupted!kai story that speaks to me very specifically snksnksnk Reading the gradually (or not so gradually) descent into enveloping himself in all that power is maddening and awesome and so very painful
Cry Me a River: Kai Post-Seabound; short, bitter, visceral, and powerful in the deliverance of emotions~
Married to the Sea: In case anyone wanted to relieve the pain that is Seabound's ending again, but with a Jay-colored coat of paint <3
half hearted-boy, maybe we'll have more connection: GUT-WRENCHING thing on parallels b/w Lloyd and Harumi. I am not the same person i was before. Tragedy does not have an age limit.
Kai Recs:
All I've Ever Known: One of the best kind of fics- Kai having to cope with team bonding during the events of the pilots <3(I have very obvious tastes). But! Has a lot of introspective Kai moments and outrospective (?) moments with him and the future team he's one day never going to imagine a time without.
Spice, and Everything Nice: Kai, in both a show of brotherly love and brotherly pride, attempts to outdo his siblings in a test of all things spice and chocolate. It's just so cute aaaaaaa!!!!
Bonfire: Lloyd wants to make a fire, Zane tries to offer suggestions, and Kai makes it personal. Slice of Life fic that would have made for a nice little episode during Season 2, honestly! And a nice look at the characters outside of their normally hectic settings~
Flicker: A story about Kai and the warmth he brings to himself and others, doesn't seem like much at first but you will be gutpunched by love and softness by the end~
Bucket List: In the category of angst and Kai with probably a guilty pleasure fic of mine, Kai strikes a deal with Morro and a horrifying journey of self-discovery ensues. It get a little dark but it's funny, gripping, heart-wrenching, and will probably have you looking at Kai in a new light by the end of it.
N Stands for Neutral: Kai teaches Lloyd to drive, chaos ensues, nuff said
Why Birds Fly: Probably not for the squeamish around eggs, insects, or ear-related agony (it's not nearly as bad as I'm making it sound I promise just being cautious) BUT another non-life-threatening crisis story that has an amazing dynamic between Kai, Cole and Jay, and their tendency to be both the best brothers you could ask for and the absolute worst.
The Process of Making Amends: Kai and Garmadon butting head and it's goes about as well as you'd expect....but, there is one thing they can reach a consensus on.
Going, Going, Gone: Vintage Classic on kai's take on Skylor throughout Season 4. Definitely Kailor, but also not exactly "shippy". It really is more of a character examination in the form of lil snippets and it lives in my mind rent-free.
From What It Was: Kai reflects on all the changes in the team post-s7. It makes me misty-eyed every time ;w;
Kai and the Futile Fist Fight: Anyone wanna see Kai and Jay have a real fight during Crystalized, with 50% more awesome fight moves and 50% more raw emotion and 100% more Kai being distressed over his sister in his own way? Here ya go!
"Mr. Smith" At Your Service: Kai pretends to be Nya's father. Nya gets far too much of a kick out of it, and it goes about a well as you'd expect snksnksnk
broken pieces: More Pilots!ninja bonding, short and sweet and ofc with a special focus on Kai! Left a very big impression on me, haha
this isn't how it's supposed to be: MOAR PILOT BONDINGGGGGGG and UNGH it's so BEAUTIFUL, especially love the character dialogue in this one!
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akariarda · 5 months
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Sometimes words can't erase the guilt
Sensei Garmadon ss feels bad because of everything he did to his family and others. Misako tries to comfort him, but it's hard. Sometimes words can't erase the guilt.
Tell me what you want and feel free to request.
"Come on, son, just one more and we're done," Sensei Garmadon said to Lloyd as he took a defensive stance, waiting for Lloyd to attack.
Lloyd swiftly moved towards him, and Garmadon raised his staff to avoid the strike. Suddenly, Lloyd lunged at him with his powers.
"Easy, son," Garmadon calmed him down. "We agreed, no powers in our monastery."
"Sorry," Lloyd said embarrassingly and yawned. "I'm tired. I don't know what I'm doing."
"I know," Garmadon gently replied. "How about we finish it for today?"
"Sounds good!" Lloyd exclaimed, happy to finally get some well-deserved rest. "Goodnight, dad."
"Goodnight, son," Garmadon smiled and started to walk slowly towards the bedroom he shared with Misako.
He had a family, everything he had ever wanted.
'And what he had before,' his mind reminded him.
'And what he discarded for power.' He shook his head, not wanting to think about it now. But he couldn't help it; guilt consumed him from the inside.
He sat on the bed to clear his mind. He was to blame for everything. He had tried to kill Lloyd, Misako, Wu, and everyone he knew.
He nearly destroyed Ninjago. How did he deserve to be forgiven? Tears blurred his vision. His head was so full of guilt that he didn't even notice when Misako entered the room.
"Garmadon?" she asked, surprised to see him crying. "Are you okay?"
"No," Garmadon replied shortly and buried his head back in his hands. She sat beside him.
"Garm," she softly said as she gently touched his chin, trying to turn his face towards her so she could look into his eyes.
Garmadon resisted her soft touch and turned his head to the other side to hide his tears.
"Why don't you tell me what's wrong?" she asked even more gently as she lightly stroked his face.
"How can you still love me?" He suddenly turned his head towards her.
"I don't have an answer." Misako shrugged. "I just know that I love you and I can't help it."
"Even after everything I've done?" Garmadon asked her, confused. "How can you, Lloyd, Wu, or anyone else still love me?"
Misako was about to say something, but Garmadon interrupted her.
"Just don't tell me it wasn't me, I've had enough of that. I made the decisions myself and I'm to blame."
He could feel a new stream of tears rolling down his face.
Above all, he wanted to bury his face in Misako's shoulder for comfort and to hide his tears from her.
He knew he couldn't, now he had to talk to her face to face, no matter how much he longed for her reassurance.
"It's true that you made the decisions yourself, but you can't claim to be the same. After you fell into the underworld, you were not the same person in essence, you can't deny that. Are your decisions now the same as when you were poisoned?"
"Fair enough," Garmadon noticed. "But that doesn't diminish the fact that it's my fault."
"It doesn't diminish it," Misako admitted. "But it changes things. And as for how we can still love you after everything, well, if you love someone, you're willing to forgive them a lot. Without the poison, you're a great man."
"If you can forgive me, why can't I forgive myself?" Garmadon asked.
"Honestly, I don't know," Misako helplessly replied. "But I know one thing. Time heals all wounds."
"Not this one," Garmadon said hoarsely. "Not yet."
"First, you have to understand that not everything is entirely your fault, that you can forgive yourself," Misako said. "Lloyd, me, Wu, and the ninjas will still love you. I'll be there for you."
"I know," Garmadon murmured, relieved to have some form of comfort. He rested his head on her shoulder and let the tears flow again.
"There will be more days like this," Garmadon suddenly said with certainty.
"We'll be there for you," Misako told him as she ran her hands through his hair. "But you'll have to heal. It's in the past, no matter how painful. You have changed."
They didn't say anything else when they lay down. He just pulled her into his embrace and buried his head in her hair.
"I love you," he told her as he held her closer.
"I love you too," she said, wrapping her arms around him. "Remember that time heals all wounds. The further you go, the easier it will be, I promise."
He sighed. As much as Misako reassured and comforted him, she couldn't remove the terrible feeling inside him.
She couldn't remove everything he had done or the fact that he was guilty.
However, she had lightened the burden so much that he felt like he could breathe again.
There would be more days like this, he knew. He just hoped that tomorrow would be better.
Suddenly, Misako turned in her sleep and buried her head more firmly against his chest. He held her tighter to soothe her.
Garmadon laughed. Whatever happens, it will get easier as time goes by.
He has his family whom he loves and who loves him. He couldn't ask for more, nor did he want to.
He kissed Misako on the forehead again, causing her to relax a little in his embrace.
Soon, he himself drifted off to sleep. Happy but saddened, full of guilt but optimistic.
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sarahowritesostucky · 2 months
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2023 In Review : Authors' Edition
What’s something new that you tried in a fic this year? How did it turn out and would you do it again? I wrote my first drabble. Plan to do more as part of my compliments to fanart that I like and reblog.
How many fics did you work on this year? (They don’t have to be finished or published!) 28
What’s something you learned about yourself as a writer? I overuse semicolons and dashes and the first step is admitting you have a problem.
What piece of media inspired you the most? Handmaid's Tale, Snowpiercer (And of course MCU just b/c of Stucky)
What fandom(s) did you write for this year? Marvel/MCU, Actor RPF, Supernatural, Fresh, Snowpiercer, Knives Out
What ship(s) captured your heart? Stucky already had my heart. I really got into other C.Evans and S.Stan characters paired with OFC's, this year though.
What character(s) captured your heart? I liked exploring Curtis Everett and Lloyd Hansen. But I still ride or die for Steve&Bucky.
Did you write for a new fandom or ship this year? Yes!! Lots of new M/F pairings, and 5 new C.Evans characters.
What fic meant the most to you to write? "The Carter Academy for Omega Excellence"--because this was my first commissioned fic and I'm super proud of that. Plus, I've formed a friendship with the person who asked for it!
What fic made you feel the happiest to work on? No clear winner for this one, just a ton of ties. Fluffiest fic was "Angels Are Avian Adjacent"
What fic was the most satisfying to finish writing? "The Merging: A Union" - just b/c I've left the SN fandom and was glad to have given the story an end.
What fic was the most difficult to write? Did you finish it? "Medically Necessitated" - because there is SO much I want to include in the plot of this one and it just is hard to keep it all straight in my head sometimes. Plus I'm rarely in the mood to write it because I hold the tone and quality of the writing so dear to my heart, that I don't want to just phone it in or half ass it. It is not finished (yet!).
What fic was the easiest to write? "Wet Dream" was written as a Bingo fill, and it felt like it came pretty easily.
What were your shortest and longest fics this year? "It Started with Helga the Lunch Lady" - 863 words "Medically Necessitated" - 91,000 words
Rec a fic you wrote or posted in 2023 "Medically Necessitated"
What were you go-to writing songs? "Wicked Game," "Enjoy the Silence," "I want to," "Like U," "Say It," "Falling," "Insomnia," "Should Be Higher," "Daddy Issues."
What were your go-to writing snacks? Kratom, caffeine pills
What was the hardest fic to title? Hydra Sanatorium - the title was actually something else that I decided I didn't like, so it got changed.
Share your favorite opening line A 3-way tie between: 1. "As a gigantic fucking Duh, hiking that last mile home with an ass full of cum is no fun." (BB & his 1001 Fetishes, ch 34), 2. "The Morning When Steve Finds Out What Bucky Wants to do to His Dick:" (Modifications & Improvement of Functions), and 3. "Sebastian’s in the middle of taking a dump when he hears his phone out in the kitchen. “Ah, crap.”" (I Prefer Girls Who're Not Afraid to Cry)
Share your favorite ending line A 3-way tie between 1. "What the hell kind of simp-ass Dom even calls themself something stupid like "Bucky," anyway?" (It Started with Helga the Lunch Lady) 2. "And then, nodding at the box of Midnight Black #106 that the other man is considering, furtively advises, “... don’t do it.”" (Merry & Bright, part 2) and 3. "Well, Bucky utilized his super soldier stealth skills. Steve tripped into the floor lamp." (Good Ol' Fashioned Values)
Share your favorite piece of dialogue I couldn't sort through ALL of the dialogue, lol, but it would definitely be the dirty talk in one of them. A recent one that comes to mind is the sexually tense and taunting back and forth Bucky has with his half-sister in "Make it Stick", or the banter between Ransom and his ex-GF in "Who'd You Have to Blow to Get That Part?"
Share an excerpt from your favorite scene AGAIN, too too many to sort through them all, but I love the scene in Good Ol' Fashioned Values where Steve and Bucky are making love, and Steve is emotional over wanting to be the omega mate he used to be for Bucky, and Bucky tenderly reassures him that he's still the perfect mate: [[“Buck, oh, p-please …”
“Uh huh. That’s right Honey. So soft. You work so hard to go soft for me, don’t you Sweetheart?”
Steve whimpered in a way he rarely did anymore, hands flying up to cover Bucky’s on his neck. “Yes, yes,” he gasped. His fingers curled into Bucky’s metal ones and held on almost desperately. “Please. I can be good. Buck,”
It broke Bucky’s heart a little bit, and he cooed sadly and shook his head. “Aw, Stevie, no.” He changed his pace, slowing down and fucking in deep and staying there to grind them together. “You’re always good, Honey. Always. Even when you can’t.” Steve’s eyes got misty at that, and plaintive, sad sounds started working their way out of his throat alongside the moans. Bucky hushed him. “Shh sh sh, Sweetheart.”]]
Share the final version of a sentence or paragraph you struggled with. What about it was challenging? Are you happy with how it turned out? The last paragraph of Modifications & Improvement of Functions, because the tone of the fic was so lighthearted and so twisted at different points, I wasn't quite sure which tone I wanted it to end on. [[Steve’s old junker of a heart gets another ding in it. He pulls Bucky in close to be the little spoon, and lies there kissing at the back of his neck for a long, long time. “You always work right, Buck. You’re always perfect. I love you.” He traces the edges of the star that’s carved into the nape of his neck, and eventually he whispers, “We’ll go to the piercing shop tomorrow.”]]
What's something that surprised you while you were working on a fic? Did it change the story? That a 16 year old character may NOT be written engaging in even non-explicit sexual relationships in a Tumblr fic. I had to reformat a few details to be safe (but I increased the age gap super much instead, so nah nah! 😝(Got my abusive Tumblr Staff Troll 🧌to thank for that one.)
What did you use to write? (e.g. writing programs, paper & pen, etc.) Google Docs. Sometimes I'll jot something small down straight onto a Tumblr post.
If you had to choose one, what was THE most satisfying writing moment of your year? I'm just really satisfied with the themes and unique way the narrative handles the subject matter in Modifications and Improvement of Functions, I think. As well as how I navigated the half-sibling incest depicted in "Make it Stick"
Did you do anything special to celebrate finishing a fic? When I achieved 5 in a rows on Bingos, I posted the masterlists. First time doing that!
How did you recharge between fics? Sleep, binge eating, elliptical machine/gym, Youtube videos.
If this were an awards show, who would you thank? My supporters who have commissioned fics, my most frequent commentors/rebloggers, and the people who supported me when the Tumblr Staff Troll 🧌 started abusing her position. (@smlmsworld, @autumnrose40, @pia-bartolini, @pandafishao3, @albymangroves, @rogersbarneses, @cobaltmoonysart, @justsupersarahthings (@and the others who I probably forgot!)
What’s something that you want to write in 2024? I have a fic I was writing for the @stuckyhistoricalfiction challenge that I never finished because of an injury/recuperation, but I truly love the fic concept and what I have written so far, so I'd like to finish that this year, even if it's just a shorter version than I'd planned. I also had two fics I was supposed to write and another fic I was supposed to draw for, for the @stuckybangs, which I didn't complete due to the injury. I'd love to collab with those partners and fulfill their visions! BUT MOST OF ALL: I want to finish up many, if not most (or all 😅) of my WIPs that I have going. I love them all so much and have no intention of letting any of them remain unfinished forever!
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bostoneris · 12 days
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My headcanons and what convoluted rewrites I've introduced in my fanfiction are sometimes separate things.
For example, Deimos being the son of Ares and Aphrodite is a pretty fucking big rewrite of Xenaverse canon.
I've also got more likely headcanons like Discord having had a hostile relationship with her parents, as far back as her childhood. I think she was once in love with Ares and they had a relationship she's still not over. I think she forged some kind of connection with Deimos during the 25 years Xena was asleep. I have the headcanon Discord pretends she doesn't know who Strife's father is. I think she and Strife had a falling out between the events of Young Hercules and HtLJ over who got Ares' favor.
But Deimos being Ares and Aphrodite's son, Hermes being Strife's father, Discord having a 25 year long sexual/romantic affair with Deimos while Xena was asleep, and Ares having an affair with Strife - that's all purely fanfiction.
Which is to say, Ratty can be horrified and annoyed by Lloyd crawling into her lap to cry about Glen in canon, but in my fanfiction, she's not unfamiliar with Lloyd doing that or being physically affectionate, because they had a relationship before Flagg and their crew opened the Inferno Hotel. But that's just in my fanfiction.
My headcanons are more plausible: Ratty and Lloyd were made co-captains by Flagg in the beginning, back when they were starting up New Vegas. Ratty and Wes were made Nadine's guardians. Ratty was responsible for Nadine's baby but was conflicted about what she had to do. Ratty and Lloyd have a bond, but never lived together or interacted much outside work. Which is why Ratty was so unprepared to know Lloyd would actually shoot Glen when asked.
Alternatively, Ratty was so unprepared to know Lloyd would shoot Glen when she asked because she knew Lloyd wasn't a killer, because he told her that months ago. Weird how you can interpret it either way.
But living together at a Motel 6 back in July, just like Deimos being Ares and Aphrodite's son, makes for more interesting fanfiction. Though honestly, the Motel thing is more plausible than Deimos being Aphrodite's son. At least that's not blatantly changing things.
The extensive backstory I wrote for Jefferson from Once Upon a Time was also anyone's guess. My headcanon is that he slept with Regina when she was married to Leopold, but I don't actually think he slept with Victor. That makes for more interesting fanfiction, however.
Same goes for what happened in Cursed Storybrooke. My headcanon is that Jefferson was able to leave his house, and he followed Regina around to learn stuff. In my fanfiction, they slept together during those 28 years. A lot. But I don't have that as a headcanon. I don't think Jefferson would ever actually do that. He'd sooner die than let her touch him! Look at how he reacts to her stepping near him in An Apple Red as Blood. They also act like they haven't seen each other this whole time. But, them sleeping together during the Curse makes for far more interesting fanfiction.
Additionally, I have the headcanon Jefferson learned Belle was in the hospital basement from being institutionalized there himself. But Jefferson frequently being hospitalized or given psychiatric care or taking medication is exaggerated for my fanfiction. I have the headcanon that Jefferson will never be truly separate from the man he is in his Storybrooke memories, but his Cursed self being mentally ill in his Curse backstory is pure fanfiction. Being crazy on top of being crazy makes for more interesting fanfiction, however.
I have the headcanon that Lloyd is bisexual, but in my fanfiction it goes a step further and he was a prostitute when he was young. I have the headcanon Ratty worked in media before the pandemic, and the headcanon she manages the Inferno Hotel. But in my fanfiction, she used to want to be an actress. Failing that, she wanted to write and direct, and failing that, she became a criminal. She has a fondness for showtunes and Shakespeare that goes way back to when she was in high school, but that's pure fanfiction.
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goldenavenger02 · 3 years
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📚 (if you're still doing requests)
Ninjago lloyd angst? Whatever you've got?
pwetty pwease? 👉👈
Ooh, you caught me right in time. I'm in the middle of watching Sons of Garmadon, so I wrote this!
this pain would be for evermore
"But, the good news is, you have us. And we will always be ready with video games, or pillow forts, or even just a hug when someone rips your scars back open."
Takes place after Dread on Arrival
•••
Lloyd knew he should be happy. After all, they stopped the resurrection of his father, he was finally reunited with his mother, and everyone was safe. But at the same time, his heart still hurt.
He had told Harumi to save her pleas for someone who cared, not wanting her to get any satisfaction from hurting him any more. But he...he did still care, even if it was in the tiny corner of his heart that still wanted to see the good in her and to believe that she wasn't all bad, he still cared.
"So, which one beat the crap out of you?" Jay asked, putting his hand on his shoulder, "was it the big one? Kilo?"
Lloyd honestly couldn't remember which one had wailed on him given the stress of what had happened after he was locked in a cage for…'how many times have I been taken by the enemy?' but Kilo sounded right. 'Definitely him or Ultra Violet. After all, Rumi didn't ever get her hands dirty.'
"I'm such an idiot," Lloyd voiced, finally letting out what he had been thinking, "I trusted her. I should've known she was evil with how invested she was in my father."
"Lloyd, it's not your fault-"
"Her parents died because of me, because I opened that fucking tomb," Lloyd swore before making eye contact with Jay, "she said I was too naive to believe no one got hurt that day. How many others?"
"What?"
"Everyone kept me from seeing the death numbers after The Great Devourer… how many others got hurt? How many people died because of my actions?"
"Lloyd, I-"
"Jay, just answer me." Lloyd pleaded with the lightning ninja, although he prayed that the number was two. That he wasn't as naive as she said.
"28. 28 casualties."
"So Rumi was right," he tried to keep back the tears, but failed miserably as his eyes started to sting, "this whole thing is my fault."
"Lloyd, you were a kid when it happened. We didn't think it was okay to burden you with the numbers."
"I was a kid when I terrorized Jamanakai Village. I was a kid when I released the Hypnobrai and the Fangpires. I was a kid when I made the stupid decision to let out Pythor," Lloyd took in a shaking breath before looking back at Jay, "The Great Devourer, The Digital Overlord, Morro, Rumi...it's my fault."
"Maybe I should get Zane, or Kai. They're better at-"
"No!" Lloyd shouted, holding his hand out in protest which made Jay stop short, "please. I'm sorry, for yelling, just...please stay."
Jay nodded, and wordlessly walked forward before wrapping his arm around Lloyd's shoulder, letting him relax against it.
Lloyd continued to stare at the sky, the words his father offered him in Hiroshi's Labyrinth years ago ringing in his head. 'He who holds the power holds a tremendous obligation.' He just hadn't expected that obligation to be keeping him from coming back.
"The hurt isn't ever going to go away, is it?" Lloyd finally voiced, seeing Jay's face out of the corner of his eye, "Rumi, I mean."
"You know, it's hard to say," Jay started, which led the younger of the two to raise an eyebrow, "As time passes, and you make your peace with it, it'll fade. But sometimes, something will remind you of it or someone will say something in passing like, oh I don't know, suggesting that sky pirates are invading Ninjago, and it'll come rushing back."
Lloyd nodded, the memory of Jay telling him about how he and Nya went from a tense friendship to a romance because of a Dijin clear in his head.
"But, the good news is, you have us. And we will always be ready with video games, or pillow forts, or even just a hug when someone rips your scars back open."
Lloyd smiled, a single tear running down his left cheek that Jay wiped away before he got the chance. "Thanks, Jay."
"No problem, Green Machine. You should probably get that scratch looked at though." Jay added, gesturing to his own face
At that particular moment, his left cheek chose to throb, indicating that the scratch Jay was talking about. "I will."
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scifinal · 4 years
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DW s12e10: It's Quite Unfortunate That This Child Keeps On Regenerating
It's only fitting that the first post on a blog called "SciFinal" should be about a season finale.
Not that fitting is the fact that in said post I'm going to begin where it all started for me.
Part One: How I Even Got into This Mess of a Show in the First Place
While I call myself a huge Doctor Who fan, even a – *gasp* – Whovian, I must admit I am not as familiar with the franchise as I would like to be; I've seen the new show, I've seen Torchwood (though, admittedly, I had to force myself to finish the fourth season – but that's a story for another day), I've listened to a handful of audio dramas (including Kaldor City, which I consider to be canon for both DW and Blake's 7) – mostly Torchwood audio dramas, but who cares, – I've read a couple of comics, I've got a novel or two somewhere on my bookshelf, I've seen the first couple of seasons of the classic show, but that's about it. I can't say I grew up with it – it wasn't on TV when I was a kid, there isn't an official Ukrainian dub, et cetera, et cetera. I first heard about it when I was about thirteen, when my classmate did a project about something they liked – and was pretty dismissive of my peers' hobbies at the time, believing myself to be somewhat above them, so I didn't pay much attention.
Then somebody finally pressured me into watching it (I believe I was fifteen or something back then) and I loved it. The first two episodes of the first season, I mean. I watched those, texted my friend something like "consider me a Whovian now!" and abandoned the show completely only to return to it maybe several years later.
I loved it. This time, for real.
Doctor Who has been with me ever since that time, it has a big soft spot reserved for each and every Doctor ever in my heart, and for each and every companion. I know full well it's cheesy, and it's stupid, and it's technobabble-y, and it's glorious in all of its cheesy technobabble-y stupidity.
And I hate this finale.
Part Two: Doctor, Why
I hate this finale – because I hate Chris Chibnall. Mind you, not the gentleman himself (I don't even know what he looks like, and I can't be bothered to Google), I hate what he did to Doctor Who.
Now, when it was revealed that the would replace Steven Moffat I felt... nothing. What did you expect? I had no idea who the man was. I know now he's made Broadchurch, and I know he wrote a bunch of stuff for Torchwood back in the day, including Cyberwoman. I had to drop Broadchurch because of how well-handled the depressing atmosphere was, and I love the flawed, dumb, sexy-cyber-bikinied, almost-fifteen-minutes-of-Ianto's-whining-including (I know because some time ago I literally cut almost every single moment of Gareth David-Lloyd whimpering, moaning, groaning, screaming, and mugging at the camera out of the episode and made those bits and pieces into a beautiful clip show called "I HATE THIS" to explain exactly why his face was and still is so punchable) mindless fun that is Cyberwoman (this is also one of the two episodes in which they actually do something fun with the pterodactyl living inside Torchwood's underground base). The latter also led to the creation of one amazing in how it develops Ianto's character audio drama entitled "Broken". I love Broken. I am now forcing you to look at its cover because of how much I love it.
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Here we go. Now, back to the point of me rambling pointlessly
In his video "Sherlock Is Garbage, and Here's Why", a well-known YouTuber hbomberguy pointed out how Steven Moffat's problem is that he is more than capable of writing a good one-off episodes, but ultimately fails at managing multiple complex, overarching stories, as visible when you look at the difference between Moffat's individual episodes and his run on the show.
Now, I believe that Chris Chibnall suffers from the same affliction: he's a good screenwriter but a terrible, terrible showrunner. Sure, he's made Broadchurch, but Broadchurch, in its essence, was a complete singular story with a beginning, a middle, and an end. There were no bigger, incomplete arcs expanding at the expense of other episodes, and the show did exactly what it was originally designed to do: it told an uninterrupted story.
Here comes Chris Chibnall's run on Doctor Who.
Now, while Steven Moffat was ultimately not very good at managing overarching stories, he tried to do so nonetheless, and the fans seemed to like his attempts. And while I can't be sure as to whether it was Chris' original vision for the show or he and his co-writers were merely trying to emulate Moffat, he attempted the same. A friend of mine has even pointed out how, to her, it was painfully obvious how the writers of the finale were desperately trying to copy Moffat's style (to give you some context, she grasped it from a 30-second clip of the CyberMasters' reveal, and that clip basically consisted of me filming my laptop's screen and laughing at their design, making the video wobbly and the audio distorted). At the time of writing this post this friend hasn't seen a single episode of Chibnall's era and, as far as I know, has no wish to do so – mainly because of two reasons that both have something to do with the finale:
Somebody's already spoiled it for her, so who cares;
I ranted to her about how shit this finale is and now she hates everything about Chibnall era.
I am very sorry for the latter, since I genuinely believe there are some nice episodes in these seasons, and I especially like the "historical" ones, they really are quite a lot of fun, I like Nikola Tesla and Thomas Edison fighting badly CG-ed alien scorpions, I love Lord Byron and Mary Shelley running around a haunted house trying to escape from a Cyberman (even though it's all too similar to the Agatha Christie episode from Russel T Davies' run), I adore that episode about Rosa P–– oh, wait, no, that one was crap and ripped off Blake's 7... Anyway, I love Jodie Whittaker's Doctor, I am a big fan of Graham, I like Ryan just fine, and I can put up with Yaz, even though it's been two seasons and I've still got no idea what's her personality supposed to be, and I absolutely love the new Master (he reminds me of a cute little pug with a big Tommy gun). There is plenty of good stuff in these two seasons, they are lots of fun to watch, but this finale... Oh god, this finale.
Part Three: We Had All of Time and Space at Our Fingertips and We Ended Up with This
We are getting to the point of this whole thing. I would love to begin with the obvious, the twist, but there's so much wrong with this who-cares-how-many-parter than this one big thing.
It is inept. It is impotent. It is incompetent. It is bad at almost everything except its okay camera work, somewhat good (for a British TV show, I mean) effects, and its really solid performances.
Its editing is tone-deaf to the extreme. There is a moment in the final episode where Ko Sharmas asks who will be the first to cross the Boundary and step into the unknown, and immediately it cuts to Yaz walking towards it, all fast and silent. I would love to show you a clip of it, but I don't have one and I can't force myself to download the episode and sit through this shitshow again just to present you with a ten-second clip. Nonetheless, that part is not edited like a dramatic moment. You edit comedies this way. Bad comedies. Bad editors edit bad comedies this way.
Its plot is incoherent. There are several plot threads in this finale, and they're managed in a way that doesn't make the viewer care about all of them at the same time, rather the viewer goes "oh, I've completely forgotten this was happening" and then, before they can even begin to care, the show cuts to something else. It's all over the place and oh so annoying.
The plot armour is painfully obvious despite every attempt to disguise it. There wasn't a single, solitary second when I believed the Doctor was really going to sacrifice herself and, lo and behold, here comes the old guy ex machina to do it for her. The only questions I was asking at that moment were "How are the writers going to prevent the Doctor's death now that they've seemingly created themselves a way to go on forever?" and "How can Whittaker care so much about her performance in this scene she's literally almost crying?". I wholeheartedly related to the Master asking "So why are we still here?" and shout–– hiss–– mumbl–– whatever-ing "Come on, come on, come on!" – at that point I've suffered through at least forty-five minutes of utter nonsense, people going preachy, religious Cybermen with Dalek motivations, that absolutely ludicrous scene in the previous episode when the show was trying its worst to make me perceive autonomous flying Cyber-heads with laser eyes as a serious threat, a shit twist and... Oh.
I've got to finally touch on the shit twist, haven't I?
It doesn't make sense. No, I mean it. I guess it makes sense from the show's writers' standpoint to retcon everything in a way that would allow them to go on forever without having to come up with a way to circumvent limited regenerations, yes. And I won't be touching upon all the lore people say this twist has ruined. No. It doesn't make sense as it is.
The twist is revealed to us by a madman that claims to have hacked into a database, claims to possess control over the Doctor's mind, and gives the Doctor and the audience no actual solid proof that the Timeless Child is, indeed, the Doctor. We have Ruth, sure, and she's nice enough (damn, I want that vest), and she's a Timelord that happens to own a TARDIS that looks like a blue police telephone box, and she calls herself the Doctor. Here's Ruth:
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I really like Ruth. She also makes no sense from the show's timeline standpoint, since the Doctor's Type 40 TARDIS only got stuck looking like a police box in 1963, so there's no reason for the Doctor to not remember being her.
We also know that the Judoon have identified Ruth as "the Fugitive"... except in one of their previous appearances in the show they weren't able to identify their targets exactly and thus were seeking out non-humans. There is a possibility that they were only looking for a Time Lord on Earth.
You know what? It's possible that Ruth is actually the Master messing with the Doctor. I have just as much proof of this as I have of the fact that the Doctor is some kind of an endlessly regenerating superbeing.
But this is not the most maddening thing here. I loathe it, but I don't loathe the twist itself: I loathe its lifelessness, I loathe how empty, how unemotional, almost robotic it feels. When somebody'd spoiled the finale for me, I got angry, and I started asking questions, and when later I saw the actual thing...
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This gif. I can't even explain how accurate it is. I stood there, in the middle of my kitchen, episode paused, holding a cup of cold tea and desperately looking around as if in my surroundings I could somehow find that emotional reaction that this show failed to evoke. I was ready to burst into tears of how empty it felt, and how empty I felt, and how the same show that has Christopher Eccleston go from literally foaming at the mouth with pure hatred to shocked silence in a matter of second because of one sentence that you, a viewer, can't help but be astonished by failed to make me feel the tiniest speck of literally any emotion. And slowly, I felt that vast void in my chest fill with sheer, pure, flaming hatred for the person who made me feel nothing, for the story that left me not bored – but empty.
And the next moment, in its own unique way of being absolutely tone-deaf, the show introduces the CyberMasters, looking ridiculous, being asinine in concept, making me burst into laughter with their dumb design. Wow.
So.
Chris Chibnall's Doctor Who is no longer a show. Chris Chibnall's Doctor Who isn't even, as somebody on Stardust said, a fan fiction. It's a rollercoaster. A lackluster rollercoaster that lifts you from the vast caverns of frozen hell, devoid of any life whatsoever, soulless and abandoned, to the heavenly torture of being so bad, so utterly awful and ridiculous, that you can't help but laugh as you watch something you used to love be distorted and deformed to the point where you can't recognise it anymore nor really care. This is what Chris Chibnall's Doctor Who has become. And I'm going to continue my ride on that grotesque rollercoaster. I'm going to pirate that ride and get on it again. Because I'm a masochist. Because I want to feel something, even if it's hatred towards those that make me feel nothing.
Because some time ago my fifteen-year-old self watched the first season and learned a lesson that I hold dear after all these years – that I can't abandon hope, and that someday, somehow, things are going to get better. That the future is being written right now. That the future can change.
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name-me-regret · 4 years
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White Roses For My Sister - Chapter Two
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White Roses For My Sister Chapter Two: All The Bad Things
Summary: Peter Parker is pretty sure he’s cursed...
Author’s Note: I know that in the earlier chapter, Billie is born earlier than the comics, and Morgan is also born earlier than in MCU canon, but I changed this for the purpose of this story. Also, the timeline is distorted in this chapter, some things that happened in canon were moved up.Also, I think I got ahead of myself when I said twelve chapters. It might be less, but if anyone reads these (lol) I’ll let y’all know here if the estimated twelve chapters changes. For now, let me know what you think.
Read it on AO3.
- - - -   "Bad things happen to the people you love And you'll find yourself paying the diamond above But honestly I've never had much sympathy 'Cause those bad things always saw them coming for me
 It would take some time just to see me shine For the whole world to see me here with all of my light But honestly I've given up on all those fights So that one day I'll have you all wrapped up in my light
 I'm gonna run, run away, run, run away, run away Runaway and never come back..."
~Bad Things - Cults   - - - -
Peter could hear them crying, his aunt and uncle, and his uncle never cried. It must have been a very sad thing if even Uncle Ben was crying. The four year old didn’t know what could have happened, since before they’d been having a good time.
He wasn’t a good at sports, and his asthma didn’t let him run around too much, but today he had played catch with his uncle. His dad use to play with him, but he had been too busy lately. Peter wasn’t mad at him, because he knew they had important jobs. So, Peter had to be good and not give them any trouble. He wouldn’t complain or cry when they couldn’t play with him, and one day maybe they would see how good he was being and they’d spend more time with him.
That had been the plan his four year old mind had come up with, and didn’t know that the day would never come.
- - - -
Peter wasn’t supposed to tell anyone. He had told the eight year old not to, that it would be their little secret. It was just that... he wanted to tell his aunt and uncle.
He didn’t like what Skip was doing, not one bit. Peter had said he didn’t want to play that game with him, didn’t want to see those adult magazines he’d forced him to look at. In fact, Peter hated it.
Skip said that everyone did it, and it was supposed to feel good. The older teenager had told him not to tell, made him swear he wouldn’t say anything.
Peter didn’t like to lie, but he had done it for a good reason. At least, that’s what he told himself as he went to his aunt and uncle.
- - - -
Peter Parker sat in the chair in the police station, flecks of blood still on his face. He felt numb as he stared down at the concrete floor, his eyes burning from having cried for so long. The ten year old was sure he had never cried as much as he had that day, not even when they had told him his dad and mom weren’t coming back, ever.
The only family he had left was gone, and Peter wondered if he was cursed. Perhaps he had been born under a bad star, or someone had placed a curse on him. Because the boy could find no other explanation as to why he kept losing the people he loved.
“Peter?”
The aforementioned child lifted his face to look at the police officer. He knew his uncle, but at the moment Peter couldn’t remember the man’s name. At the moment, he pushed it aside and looked at the woman that had walked up with him. She had semi-business attire, a cheap suit from Jcpenny that looked to have seen better days, some flats that didn’t match the dress and hair that had been haphazardly put in a sloppy bun at the back of her head.
“Hi, Peter, I’m Margaret Reed, I work with CPS. You’re going to come with me until we can either find a relative you can stay with, or a foster parent becomes available. Until then, you’ll be staying at a home for boys.”
She smiled reassuringly at him, but Peter could see the bags under her eyes that gave her a haggard appearance. Peter wondered if he was ever going to leave that home, or if he’d disappear in the system like so many others.
Even so, he stood up and followed her, leaving behind his old life, which had once been a happy trio. Now, Peter was the only one left.
- - - -
Ned glanced at his friend, worried about how quiet he had been since his uncle and aunt’s death. He’d tried to invite him to his house to build his new AT-AP Walker, but he had just silently shaken his head. Even Flash’s usual taunts had had no effect on him, even if the bully had toned down after the death of his aunt and uncle.
He wasn’t going to give up though, because that’s what best friends did. Besides, he was Ned’s only friend and Ned was Peter’s only friend. They had to stick together. After school he’d insist they hang out, build the Walker and have fun. Ned would save his friend, at all costs.
 The sound of gunfire was heard through the halls of the middle school. Their teacher, Ms. Gonzales’s head lifted sharply, her eyes narrowing behind her glasses. All of the students had gasped at the sharp sound, tensing in their seats. “Everyone... stay here,” she said, moving quickly to the door.
She opened the door, seeing the teachers from other classes doing the same. “What was that?”
Ned and Peter looked at each other, worried as they heard more of those sharp sounds and that was followed by screams. Their teacher slammed the door closed and locked it. “Everyone get to the supply closet, now!” she whisper shouted.
They had a small class that day, since a lot of students were out due to the flu that was going around the school. So, their usual fifteen had been reduced to nine, but even then it would be a tight squeeze.
She ushered them inside, helping Betty as she tripped over her desk and carried her the rest of the way. Peter and Ned were the last ones in, since they usually sat at the front of the class. Most of them were crying by then, and Peter could feel Flash at his back, the bully sobbing against his ear and he instinctively grabbed onto Ned as he also gulped in shaky breaths, face wet with his own tears.
Ms. Gonzalez was breathing heavily as she looked them over, standing in the open doorway. “Don’t some out, no matter what,” she told them, a determined look crossing her face as the sound of gunfire started getting closer.
She closed the door, locking it and all of them were plunged into darkness. They flinched as they heard something being dragged across the ground, and then something else as whatever it was was shoved against the door of the supply closet. They realized that it was their desks, one after another pushed up against the door.
The sound of a door slamming open was heard, followed by a woman’s yell and the loud sound of a weapon going off. Peter felt Flash’s hold tighten so hard around his arm he was sure he’d have bruises later.
All of them screamed as the gun went off again, something slamming into the heavy wooden door with a splintering sound. Then the sound of gunfire came again, and Peter heard Ned yelp in pain and he felt something warm splash against his face. All around him everyone was screaming as they listened to the gunfire, and light was coming through the bullet holes in the door.
Then they heard it, the clicking of an empty chamber, and a frustrated shout. Whoever was outside started banging against the doorknob with something, and the children cried as they feared he would get in. Before he could, there were more yells, running footsteps and fighting.
“Cecilia! Oh God! Hold on!” a man’s voice yelled, the shouting getting farther away.
“K...kids... help them,” a voice whimpered, then a gasp.
“Cecilia!”
Peter pressed against the door, Ned slumped down at the floor and Flash trying to push as the other kids cried out for him. They could hear the person outside pushing the desks aside frantically.
They all screamed as the door was wrenched open easily, since the doorknob had been complete destroyed. “It’s alright! You’re safe!”
It was their history teacher, Mr. Lloyd.
“Sir, Ned,” Peter sobbed, unaware of the blood on his face as he crouched over his fallen friend. Ned’s shoulder was bleeding, and the man removed his cardigan and pressed it against the wound. “Is h-he gonna die?” the eleven year old whimpered, his brown eyes pleading with the adult to tell him otherwise.
“No, he’s going to be fine,” the man reassured. He could tell that the bullet had gone cleanly through his shoulder. It was a miracle it hadn’t hit anyone else as it had exited the plump boy’s body, and it must have imbedded into the wall behind them somewhere. “Is anyone else hurt?”
Betty lifted her hand, also crying like the rest of the others. “I think I hurt my ankle,” she sniffled, wiping at her eyes with her sleeve.
“Alright,” Mr. Lloyd sighed, sounding shaken despite his calm demeanor. “We’re going to get out here... I need everyone to hold hands with the person closest to them. Then I need you all to close your eyes.” He didn’t want them to see Cecilia’s body, not wanting to traumatize them anymore than they had already been.
Mr. Lloyd had tied the cardigan as best as he could around Ned’s shoulder, looping it under his armpit. The boy was out cold, most likely from the pain, and it was a small mercy. He lifted him in his arms with a grunt. “Peter, grab onto the back of my shirt, and don’t let go.”
Peter obeyed him, using one hand to grab his shirt and his other was being held by Flash,  neither boy worrying about the fact that they were holding hands. Peter and Flash just wanted to get out of there, the latter wanting to be held by his mother. As for Peter, he was almost glad his aunt and uncle were gone, because if not they would have been terrified right now. He was glad if only to spare them this.
Even if he wished he could also be held by someone that loved him.
As the kids moved out of the supply closet one by one, eyes squinted closed and trusting their teacher to lead them out safely. Only, Peter found his curiosity get the best of him and peeked his eyes open, and immediately regretted it.
Ms. Gonzales lay in the middle of the room, almost where Liz Allan’s desk had been, and her limbs were akimbo. Her eyes were wide open and unseeing, blood dribbling out of her mouth and pooling around her body which had been riddled with several bullet holes.
Peter slammed his eyes closed with a keening noise, but the image was burned into his mind, her unseeing black eyes staring up at the ceiling. “It’s alright,” Mr. Lloyd called, “we’re almost to the hallway. Keep your eyes closed.”
It was too late, Peter had seen her. He had seen her and he would never ever be able to forget her. Her smiling face whenever he got a difficult math problem right was replaced by her face twisted in agony, covered in blood. She was dead, had died trying to save them all, and for no reason that Peter could understand.
 Peter lay in his bed in the boy’s home he’d been staying for the last four months, breathing in shakily. They’d turned off the light almost an hour ago, but he and sleep could not find one another. For when he almost managed to start to doze off, the memory of Ms. Gonzalez’s body would pop to the forefront of his mind and he’d startle awake with a gasp. So, he could only lay in bed and stare up at the ceiling as he tried to remember how to breathe properly.
In and out, making sure they weren’t rushed for fear that he’d have an asthma attack. He hadn’t had one in months, not since his aunt and uncle had been killed, and he hadn’t been in the hospital because of his since he was eight. That had been a difficult time for Peter.
His breath hitched dangerously into asthma territory and he forced himself to stop thinking of anything and just the shaky breaths he was taking; in and out.
As he lay awake most of the night trying to breathe carefully, he decided that it was too dangerous to love anyone else. After all, he had loved Ms. Gonzales, who always had a kind word and smile for him; especially after his aunt and uncle had died. She had helped him understand a tricky math problem and gave him more advanced work when he had asked for it.
Peter had loved Ms. Gonzales, and now she was dead. He loves Ned and he had almost died. His love killed people, and was determined never to love anyone else again.
- - - -
The twelve year old stared at the man and woman in front of him, not quite understanding what was happening. Perhaps he was dreaming, but that seemed unlikely. While he had nightmares and the occasional insomniac night, he tended to get enough to function as a normal human being. So, he knew he was coherent and awake.
That made him try and analyze the man and woman again, the very familiar power couple. There was no way he could comprehend what he’d just been told, and it wasn’t because he was stupid or anything.
Peter went to Midtown Junior High, and his hard work all through junior high had paid off since his place was already reserved in Midtown Tech (the high school one). His grades never dropped from the top five in the whole school, and excelled in his after school activities (he had to drop almost all of them except robotics, mathletes, and decathlon, because MJ hadn’t let him).
He could still go to Midtown when the time came, but would have to get a scholarship to do so. Even then, it would only pay his tuition and not his textbooks. He’d already found a solution for that, since Mr Delmar at times needed help stocking the shelves. Peter would be able to make some money after school to pay for his textbooks, and also put some minutes on his phone.
After the school shooting, Ned’s parents had moved their whole family to Massachusetts. Because apparently, “Mom says there aren’t any school shootings there, and besides, it’s closer to MIT”. Peter knew that had been Ned’s school of choice, since it was his dad’s alma mater. He had only smiled and wished him luck, even if inside he was begging for it not to be true, but one look at his bandaged shoulder silenced him.
So, Peter needed minutes on his phone, since it was the only way to keep in contact with Ned now. He didn’t want to be able to lose touch with his only friend. He had lost everyone else he loved, and he felt like he was barely hanging onto Ned now.
That had been the plan at least, but instead, he was staring at Tony freaking Stark, Pepper Potts, and a little girl that all of America had known from the moment she’d been born, Morgan Stark. She was two years old and sitting next her mother quietly as she looked across the table at Peter, wide brown eyes almost sparkling with excitement.
“Uh, I d-dont... understand,” Peter said, looking at his case worker, Margaret. The woman’s blonde hair was as always pulled up into a sloppy bun with a few strands falling into her face. She had on one of her usual cheap dress clothes, and that had a few wrinkles at the collar.
“Mr. and Mrs. Stark want to adopt you, Peter,” Margaret repeated. “They want you to be their son.”
There was that words again, ‘son’. Peter had already been someone’s son, had been someone’s nephew, but now they were all gone. He couldn’t be some else’s son, or nephew, or anything.
The adults faces changed into something that had to be sorrow. He hadn’t realized he’d said that out loud.
“Oh Peter,” Pepper Potts sighed, dabbing at her eyes. She almost didn’t seem like she ran a Fortune 500 company, but perhaps having a daughter had softened her. It made Peter miss his own mother, his Aunt May’s absence like an ache that clawed at his throat with the need to scream, because life wasn’t fair. Life was a cruel bitch that took and took from you, and nothing and no one could make it better.
“A bruther?” a sweet voice asked.
Peter looked at the little girl, her hair braided like a crown on her head and a flower band on. She was wearing a white dress with llamas (or alpacas?) all over it, as well as cacti. Over that she had a pink vest with tassels all over it (it might have been called a cowboy vest), and brown sandals on her tiny feet. She had one a pink and white necklace with a pink flower in the middle, and a pair of sunglasses hooked to the front of her dress almost like the kinds her father always wore.
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He knew this because she’d come around the table and he turned in his seat to be able to see her. She grabbed his hand, much larger than her tiny one. “You my bruther?”
Pepper and Tony had stood as soon as Morgan had slipped clumsily out of her chair. Now they watched the two kids, one twelve and the other two, but both still children. “I’m... nobody’s brother,” Peter whispered.
“Yea, you my bruther, k?” Morgan nodded like it was final.
Peter opened his mouth as he looked into her innocently smiling face, and he found he could say nothing to remove that smile from her face. “Okay,” he gasped, and he hadn’t realized he’d started to cry until her other tiny hand wiped at his face.
“Why you cry? Got an ouchie?”
He nodded as he gripped her small hand as hard as he could without hurting her, afraid to let go. “Yes... I got an ochie,” he sobbed.
Morgan wrapped her little arms around the bigger kid, in an effort to comfort him. “It’s otay. Magona kiss it better, k?” She pressed a kiss on his cheek, making the other cry even harder as he held onto her now. He was sure he was cursed, that everyone he loved died, but he couldn’t help wanting Morgan.
Peter wanted to be her big brother, to have someone he could love again, and that loved him too. He wanted to be selfish, just this once.
Tony and Pepper signed the adoption papers that same day, and Peter became Peter Parker-Stark; became Morgan’s big brother.-
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