#although he never abandoned their father and always did everything he was asked it’s his older brother who receives all the praise

[beginnerblueglass]

I was telling my sister about Titans, and she was like, “the whole Bruce/Dick/Jason storyline is like the prodigal son story, with the older and younger brothers' positions switched,” and I was like ohhhh???

[ophelieverse]

I have an idea,Lia angel🪽can you please write Daemon x Hightower!reader where she is Otto youngest daughter and she is religious like Alicent and her father betrothed her to Daemon?Maybe with a little bit of 😏😏Thank you my angel🤍🤍

⊱ •There is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin

Daemon Targaryen x fem!reader

-Summary:In order to gain full power,Otto Hightower betrothed both of his daughters in the House of the Dragon.

-Warnings:Age gap,a little bit of smutty time,religious topics.

-Thank you for requesting and let me know what you think🫶🏻🩷

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The wind that caressed her bare back no longer carried with it that scent of saltiness that had weighed down her nostrils and kneaded her mouth,while sobs,wheans and bells had shaken her violently in following the ship and the wake of foam that moved away from the beach of Dragonstone and disappeared beyond the horizon.

It had become a pleasant breeze with floral and fruity hints,which rippled her skin filling her with chills,although Lady Y/n Hightower,youngest daughter of Otto Hightower the Hand of the King,was not cold.

She could not feel cold under the scorching sun of the island on which she had been abandoned by her family.Her father who gave her a quick kiss on the forehead and her older sister who cried silently with her,to be alone with her betrothed,the Rogue Prince Daemon Targaryen, not when it was her own body that radiated heat,turning it on from the inside.

Maybe earlier,those days were her father gave her the information of his new plan.Before,perhaps,she had perceived the icy breath of what being married to a man like her future husband would mean,but now... Now those endless tears that had blinded her eyes and moistened her beautiful face had also dried.

«Father,Smith,Warrior,Mother,Maiden,Crone,Stranger.»Y/n whispers those names in her mind with her eyes closed,as if praying could purify her of what is happening to her body.

By the way Daemon hands creep under her nightgown and run through her skin,lingering on places she never dared to explore even on her own.Her hands instead she’ll the rosary of the Seven,to prevent herself from pushing him away or to bring him even closer.

Her whole body felt on fire,her immaculate skin was covered in goosebumps as the night sky engulfed her figure.Daemon had been waiting for her body,for her mind,soul and heart to be completely his.Maybe he suggested to Larys Strong to suggest to that cunt of her father to have her hand to him out of spite,maybe he did because Y/n had always been kind and gentle towards him unlike her father.

What he was certain of was that in that moment she looked like a holy figure,with her hair all sandy,her lips swollen,the skin of her jaw still covered in spit and wine.She looked like one of those gods that she loved tho pray and only now,taking in every inch of her body,he understood why people were religious.Why they needed something to turn to,someone to get on their knees for and chant their names.

Daemon wasn’t a religious person,but he liked to think that the gods had made Y/n just for him.

It was easy in the beginning,when it all started just to see Otto Hightower rage as the prince gave his younger daughter all those attentions.But after a short time,Daemon started to realize that there was something more that was pushing him to always look at her,to caress the back of her neck,to toy with her hair.

It was only when she told him that she prayed for him every night before going to sleep,that everything changed.No one has aver prayed for Daemon,maybe his brother had prayed him to change,but he never went down to his knees before his bed and asked to the gods to always protect him.

From that day he started to pay her more attention,to see the shy way she carried herself,always looking down at her feet,never saying anything without being asked.Always at her father side.She was wasted like this,such a young and beautiful girl that could bring the whole world to its knees to worship and cherish her just like the goddess she was.

When Daemon had caught the whispers of her father wanting to send her back to Old Town to become a Septa,he had to intervene.

He knew Y/n wouldn’t never gave herself to someone like him willingly,not without a promise.And so it was done,in less than a month they would’ve been husband and wife and he could have all the time to see her shine for who she really was,without the dark cloud of her father shadow on her.

Daemon wanted her to want him as he wanted her.Desperately.He wanted to make her shiver from his touch,he wanted to hear her voice breathless and shaky.Oh he wanted to hear her say his name like a prayer,like he was her new god.Full of devotion.

«You should stop crying,Y/n,am I hurting you?»Daemon murmured above her chest,his eyes not leaving the precious and untouched skin of her breast.

«T-that's not what I want.»she lied,her voice was weak and she couldn’t keep her eyes open.

Daemon takes her nipples in his mouth,one at a time and she can’t stop them from becoming erect and turgid.Her mother made her believe that no one could suck her breasts except her children,that sex was only meant for child-bearing but right now Y/n feels anything but a mother and a pure virgin.She felt dirty,she felt like a whore,she felt good for the first time in her life.

«You are a liar.»her betrothed taunted her,his rosy lips were soft,his tongue warm and wet made her thighs clench.

«Father,Smith,Warrior.»she whispered again,one of her hands was now grasping at Daemon long silver hair as he groaned.

Y/n dwells on those figures with a hint of fear,aware that none of them will come to save her now.Not her father who sold her to the Rogue Prince in marriage.Not the warrior,her sworn protector,that was waiting at the castle for Daemon to be done with her before escorting her to her maidens.In the absence of the smith,her father trusted a demon,Larys Strong,and his advices to strength Alicent oldest son claim to the throne by forging their union just to have Daemon on their side against Rhaenyra when war will come.

«You want this.You want me.»Daemon said looking up at her with lustfull eyes,releasing her nipples.

Y/n face was burning red,her lips were quivering with soft prayers«You should s-stop.»she pleaded.

He was still holding her,his fingers felt like pure fire on her ribs.He kissed his way down from under her breast,savoring the sweet perfume of strawberries and the clean and sinful taste of her immaculate skin.

«Stop where?Here?»he asked,he bit and sucked right under her ribcage making her gasp.

His hands were hiking up the gown of her white nightgown,the smooth and silky texture of her bare legs made his head spin.

«Daemon.»she called for him breathlessly.

«What do you want?Tell me,my beautiful princess.»he whispered.

She tries to stay motionless like a statue,but her body trembles,quivers,while he puts a finger in her and then a second, making her find her more wet than she would have liked.

Her language pronounces aloud the names of the Seven,to prevent herself from yelling at him to stop or to keep going forever.

«You want all this, you want me.»he reminds her,taking in all of her beauty.

«How could I?You're a horrible man.»

She spreads her legs wide and feels him rubbing the tip of his manhood erected against her opening without daring to enter yet,and she hates herself for how reflexively she pushes her pelvis against him,for how she widens her legs even more.

«Maybe you're horrible too.»

Y/n head was spinning and it was difficult to remember how that change had happened,how she had started crying at the betrayal of her family when shortly before she had found herself aching for him,for the man above her as the most unfortunate of disasters;nor how she had come to grasp with her lips a pasty and strong flavor, capable of awakening every sense,capable of awakening in her new desires and instilling new life in her.

When Daemon had walked her to a secret area on the beach of Dragonstone and eased her thirst with the most intense,tasteful wine of the known world she had found herself on her knees for him.Till a week before she used to lift her gowns and get down only to pray her gods,now she was doing for the man that her father had raised her to despise and she loved it more than the gods her mother had taught her to worship.

Then she had found herself laying on the cold and wet sand,Daemon on her like a beast on the pray.

Y/n followed with her tongue the route of a thick drop and found a small bump in her mouth.She enclosed it inside and sucked so as not to disperse any of the spicy notes of that purple liquid.The fingers that had played with his long moon hair tightened their grip in a tacit warning and she chased another trail finding herself flattening her tongue on solid muscles,provoking them with the tip to make them contract and relax to their liking.She sucked in other stylls and bit the skin she found underneath to memorize its texture and remember how even the salty of the sweat could turn into sugar.

She knew that the gift,which was dripping from that chest and which had been offered to her so generously, was not to be wasted and she would savor it greedily.

«Good princess.»Daemon had praised her,his eyes,of the same color of the wine,capturing her every movement.

Y/n blinked and the blurred view allowed her to admire the work of a skilled sculptor.The advent of the chest she was worshipping,stained with other droplets waiting for her passage,caused a wave of desire in her belly.Those paths she was entering would soon lead her to the place where she would finally find peace and a new pang of anticipation caught her unprepared.

She strove to bring back to mind how she ended up like this,on her knees for him.A man with the blood of the dragon in his veins,a man who was undoubtedly a deity:he had dazzled her with an estatic vision of immortal creatures singing and dancing,so colorful and lively that he enchanted and chained her to them.And that drink she had tasted first from his cup,then from his hands and, finally,from the rest of his limbs.

Y/n kneeling between the sea and the rocks, looked up at him eyes and,all of a sudden,she didn't care about anything anymore.Her pupils burned,foamed like the liquid she was collecting,and rested her soul.

Then she had found herself underneath him and somehow,she also founded the strength to pray for forgiveness.For the person she was about to become,for the person she was letting him create.

Maybe she was horrible too.

«I want to be.»she whimpered against his mouth«I want to be just like you.»she pleaded,scratching down his back,the rosary long forgotten on the cold sand.

Mother,Maiden,Crone.

Y/n turns to those names but without really praying to them:she thinks of the Mother,the one that she had lost,the one that she had watched her sister turn into and who is the only definition their father had imposed on both of them,of the Maiden who she is no longer,of the Crone who she does not want to be yet.

And never,never,never like right now she was just Y/n,a woman,as she feels the member of Daemon finally slip into her to its entire length.The intrusion snatches a cry of surprise from her,but even though it’s the first time she feels no pain and she is amazed.

Her lips opens immediately when Daemon one’s looks for hers,his tongue caressing hers slowly as his arms brings her impossible closer to him,almost as he wanted to be one with her.

«Tell me that you are mine,Y/n.Not your father,but mine.»Daemon sounded desperate,moving in and out of her at a languid pace to savor more of the gentle creature he was corrupting.

«I’m yours.»she immediately answered him with a little moan«And you are mine?»she still had that white innocence in her that made him fall in love with her.

«Soon we will be one under the blessing of the Seven.You are mine and i’m yours.»he promised her and she believes him,he’s her new god,one that was created only for her to worship just like he worship her.

Daemon enters and leaves her at an increasingly rapid pace,sinking more forcefully at the end of that provocation;it should be a punishment, perhaps,it is instead for Y/n is a relief.It’s not a torture,not when he fills her,but the emptiness he leaves when all of this will end.She hates how her body does not consider that as a shameful act,making love before being married on the beach,a humiliation,as,in spite of everything,even her mind recognizes that disgract on his virtue infinitely more pleasant than the honest marital duty that her sister had told her about.

Stranger.Stranger.Stranger.

There is no other god left,as she opens her eyes and feels lost in her own release that hits her like the waves that crush on the shore.Daemon is not far behind her,his lilac eyes shining in hers as he empties himself in her.

Y/n surrenders to him,to the only true Stranger she knows,and thinks that after all she could also die in that moment,because she is dying less now than she died for all her life.Because being with Daemon couldn’t be worse than being with her father,because the unprecedented heat that explodes inside her suddenly can be nothing more than death itself.

She opens her lips and Daemon is the only name she outrageously prays as she opens her hands to hold him now to herself,to draw him closer instead of pushing him back,while he sinks for one last time.

The rosary breaks and the beads fall to the sand,like the gods it represent.

«I’m sorry.»he says.

«Everything is alright.»she says back.

Daemon lays on her and begins to caress her with an unexpected and inconsistent sweetness,like that remorse to which she gives voice,but which she understands after all.He would not have been able to ask for all this without offering her father to marry his daughter,because,in any case,if he had only asked for a fun night together she would have said no.

But now of her rabid cruelty nothing remains but a painful fragility;he is a god who falls too,a god who bows to her.It's ironic how she almost feels obliged to console him,to thank him for taking her away from her father hands.

«Thank you,my prince.»Y/n whispered.

Deamon closed his eyes,laying on her bare chest and enjoying the warmth of her skin«You're the only beautiful thing I will ever have,Y/n.I will make you a happy wife.»and he sounded sincere,she believed him.

Father,Smith,Warrior,Mother,Maiden,Crone,Stranger.

She no longer worships the gods now,because they are cruel,those who brand such a sweet pleasure as a sin.

She doesn't think about the gods anymore,Y/n, because now she knows what it means to be human.

There is no longer any god,not after the Hour of the owl,when Daemon gives unconditional whispers,love and mercy.Because he no longer needs blackmail as a pretext and Y/n no longer has religious images to hide behind.It was only them now,to believe in and to love.

«I love you.»he says

«I love you too.»she says back.

[melanieph321]

heyy,

Coyou do Kenan Yildiz x reader being teen parents?

Love this! ❤️

SEVEN DAYS OF REQUESTS 3.0

(DAY 5)

Kenan Yildiz x Reader - Only For One Day

Enjoy!

Your son turned five today. As a single mother, you always feard inadequacy. You feard not being enough or doing enough to keep your only child happy. And today was one of those days.

Despite being surrounded by friends and family, with a cake to feed a whole village, your son, Romeo, couldn't be more miserable on his birthday.

"Time to make a wish." Your mom said, having lit the last birthday candle. The cake was set on the table before your son, who regarded it with furrowed brows.

"Go on baby, blow out the candles and make a wish." You encouraged.

His frown deepend, followed by a shake of his head. "I want daddy to help me blow them out."

Your heart dropped.

"Great, I guess that means no cake for us."

"Dad, please." You sighed and knelt down before your son's chair. "Baby, we've talked about this, haven't we?" Daddy couldn't make it today because of his very important job. But he sent you some really nice gifts, didn't he?"

"I don't want gifts, I want daddy!"

It was heartbreaking to see Romeo storm up to his room, abandoning his own birthday celebrations. You were quickly consoled by your family, all of them telling you that you weren't the one to blame. However, it didn't feel fair to blame it all on Kenan. No matter how hard you tried, the two of you just couldn't make the relationship work. The endless bickering brought out the worst in both of you, eventually leaving your son to grow up in a split home, confused as to why his parents never celebrated his birthday together.

You went to bed late that night, retreating to your room after checking on Romeo, who lay fast asleep in his bed. There, seated on the edge of your bed, you made the tough decision to put your pride aside and call your ex-boyfriend.

"Y/N?"

The phone rang for less than a beat before Kenan's sharp voice sparked through the phone. "Is everything alright? How is Romeo?" He asked, with slight distress considering the late hour of which you decided to call him.

"Romeo is fine." You said, to which Kenan sighed in relief.

"Oh, okay. Good. How was the birthday party? Did he like the things I sent him?"

"Yeah, about that...." You sat with the phone pressed to your ear, imagining Kenan in whatever place in the world he may be. You once made it clear to him that you were to have sole custody of your son. Leaving Kenan to live the life he always dreamt of living, the life of a professional football player. However, as the father of your son, he was free to see Romeo whenever you saw fit. Hopefully, tomorrow was one of those days.

"What? Did something happen at the party?" He asked.

"Yes, Romeo refused to blow out the candles on his birthday cake unless you were there to help him."

"I see."

"Yeah, he was really upset." You said, twisting the corners of your bed sheets.

"You know...." Kenan said, reviving the hopeful beating of your heart. "I'm not too far away. Juventus is playing Turin this weekend, so I'm actually in town tomorrow if you want me to...."

"I want you to." You nodded eagerly, although Kenan wouldn't possible know.

"Great. I'll see you tomorrow then."

"Tomorrow." You shirrped, fast to hang up the phone before regretting ever making the call in the first place. Nevertheless, it was done. Your son was getting the birthday he deserved.

The next day you were a nervous wreck, forcing yourself to put on a brave face as you greeted Kenan at the door.

"Hey, Kenan," you said, trying to sound casual. "Thanks for coming."

"Of course. Wouldn't miss it for the world." Kenan handed you a gift for Romeo. Another one, you thought.

"Thanks again for inviting me," he said, his voice low and smooth.

Your heart skipped a beat as you looked into his eyes. You could see the old spark there, the one that had once made you fall in love with him. However, you pushed those feelings aside, focusing on your son.

Romeo was running around the living room with his cousins, laughing and having the time of his life. Your family had thankfully agreed to a redo of yesterday's celebrations and did not judge your decision to invite Kenan this time around.

As the celebrations went on, you and Kenan found yourselves drawn to each other, not helping to exchange a few pleasantries, and before long, you were laughing and joking again, just like old times. But as the night wore on, you began to feel a pang of sadness. You knew that this was just a temporary reprieve, that the old feelings you had for Kenan would eventually fade, and the two of you would be back to where you were now. Separated. Still, you couldn't help but enjoy the moment to savor the happiness that Kenan brought to your son. He was undoubtedly a great dad.

As the celebrations came to an end, you hugged Romeo tightly, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. "Thank you for coming, Kenan," you said, voice choked with emotion.

"No, thank you," he replied, his voice just as soft. "For giving me the best gift I could ever ask for." He regarded the two you with loving eyes. You smiled, knowing that this was exactly what Romeo needed - to see his parents getting along, if only for one day.

[french-unknown]

𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒: shanks, vivi, ace, law, sabo 𝐂/𝐖: hurt/comfort 𝐖/𝐂: 800 +

| m a s t e r l i s t | - | p t . 1 |

𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐊𝐒

You weren't a pirate, like him, which means that your life is built on the same loop: he who arrives, he who loves you as best he can and finally he who goes back to the sea while leaving you behind.

You love him with all your heart and you can't forget him despite the many months or even years he spends at sea far from you. You know he's a sailor and staying ashore for him is impossible, but every time he leaves, your heart breaks that you're not enough to make him want to stay at home. Whatever you do, he will always end up leaving you to come back when he wants. And you are neither strong enough to join him at sea, not wanting to leave your life that you had built so hard in your city, nor to turn the page and abandon him as well. So you stay up waiting for him every day, hoping he comes back to you.

𝐕𝐈𝐕𝐈

Vivi is a princess and you are, of course, no match for royalty. Everything around you is a reminder, from the comparisons with the members of the nobility to the discussions on her future diplomatic marriage that inflamed the people.

Since you had met, you knew that you did not evolve in the same world. You still couldn't believe that she chose you among all of the people around her since she was the pampered and loved elite of the country while you were just one of her subjects among many others. Your relationship was hidden from everyone because you both knew that, even if her father loved her and wished her happiness, he could never accept your relationship since you are not enough for a princess. The scandal that the discovery of your relationship would cause could even tarnish the reputation of the royal family. And he would only have to easily send you away so your unpowered person would not be an obstacle to her future.

𝐀𝐂𝐄

As a free spirit always in search of adventure, Ace is an extrovert who's happy to be often brought to meet new people and new places. But you're a deep introvert and you sometimes wonder if he could be sick of you slowing him down.

Where he is ready to visit the whole world and live at full speed so as not to have the slightest regret, you are more the type to like your peace of mind on the Moby Dick chatting with companions you already know. So it has happened several times that Ace gives up one of his adventures or cancels a mission to be able to stay with you, snuggle up in the bunk of your shared room. And, although the gesture is cute and makes you happy, you ask yourself each time how many times he will still restrict himself to you before starting to see you like a millstone at his ankle and breaking up with you definitively.

| he comforts you about your insecurity |

𝐋𝐀𝐖

Law isn't a very physically affectionate person, nor does he seem downright comfortable receiving that kind of attention. Unfortunately for you, you are a very tactile person and the idea that he sees you as too clingy makes you sick.

So you're careful to avoid any avoidable contact. You forget the urge to put your hand on his shoulders when you pass behind him, seated. You give up on hugging him when the two of you are next to each other in bed. You restrain yourself from putting your hand on his thigh when you eat on nearby chairs. This has an impact on your morale in the long run but you are much more terrified by the idea that he finds you clingy and complains about it than by the lack of physical contact. You've already woken up sweating from a nightmare where you listened to him, unable to move, making remarks to Shachi and Penguin about your overly tactile behavior that annoyed him.

| he comforts you about your insecurity |

𝐒𝐀𝐁𝐎

Sabo is, unfortunately for you, very popular with the revolutionaries, whether it's some of the women in the organization or the men of Momoiro Island. And, with rather impressive possessiveness issues, it's not easy every day.

You are aware that your jealousy is disproportionate when you understand that you just want him to be completely out of touch with these people, who are also his collaborators. Even though you know Sabo is faithful, you can't get your mind off the simpering faces of those people who want to steal your boyfriend. However, just as you realize that your possessiveness is higher than average, you also realize the image that you will send back to Sabo if he discovers you in this new light. So you swallow in silence, as best you can, the black beast that rumbles in your belly and you do your best to avoid showing it, even if it means letting this beast devour you from the inside.

| he comforts you about your insecurity |

𝐉𝐎𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐘 𝐔𝐏𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄

[moutheyes]

many thoughts about currently airing QL

i meant to get this done earlier but i blinked and it's almost we are wednesday again. however, i still wanna get some thoughts on page for posterity.

only boo (completed!)

while this show had its imperfections, its triumphs largely outweighed its shortcomings. as a vehicle to showcase seakeen's acting abilities, chemistry, and viability as a cp, you really couldn't have asked for much more. moo is a son of all time, and both he and kang were fully realized characters that were a joy to watch and root for each week.

i think the writing sacrificed some of its side plots to the trope gods—the secondary romance between potae and payos deserved more than endless miscommunication, while shone's reintroduction as an eleventh-hour obstacle was clunky at best. there are also valid criticisms to be made about gmmtv's (in)ability to deliver a substantial in-text critique of the idol industry's stance on dating, and if that had been part of the show's thesis, maybe i'd feel more strongly about it, but it wasn't. it was an obstacle for the relationship between kang and moo, and as a gmmtv romcom, it was never positioned to promise anything more than a happy ending.

was the central storyline strong enough to overcome some of the uneven writing towards the end? to me, yes, absolutely it was. kangmoo was the beating heart of the show, and the script did everything right, up until graduation, to make us buy into not only their individual characterizations and motivations but also the strength of their relationship, the mutual support and adoration and understanding that made their love feel so much fuller. i'm going to miss having seakeen on my screen every sunday and i hope they get the superstar projects they deserve moving forward.

wandee goodday (ep 8 of 12)

this show has kind of entered a mushy middle stage for me. fake dating, as a trope, requires healthy suspension of belief, and the fwb setup is working at odds with that. it's become very evident in the last couple of episodes, where the only way dee and yak can individually keep up their own pretenses (more on dee's side, tbf to yak) is through a deliberate failure of communication, which gets exhausting to watch after a while. i'm glad yak finally confessed his feelings at the end of ep 8; hopefully the show can emerge out of this storytelling slump and end on a strong note.

oye and cher's proposal scene made me emotional, though. it was so sweet and so simple, and although we still don't have too much background on their relationship, it felt very organic to what we know of them, with the imaginary ring and the casual spontaneity of it all.

my stand-in (ep 9 of 12)

i was not expecting this to be my front-runner for show of the year, but it's really hitting on all levels for me: acting (up is always special, and poom has been a revelation), production (cinematography and camerawork are magnificent), and storytelling (smart, elegant adaptation and localization choices for the most part). with 3 episodes left and most of the major secrets revealed, there's plenty of time for groveling, retribution, and tying up loose ends, by which i mean fucking in missionary. no major notes; carry on.

we are (ep 12 of 16)

last week's episode was a bit slow even by this show's own standards, but what i liked about it was getting to see more of phum and fang's home life and how that has shaped their approaches to relationships. a lot of it was implied in the earlier episodes, so seeing it depicted a little more clearly—phum's abandonment issues and current friction with his father, fang's self-imposed perfectionism—introduced some much-needed depth to their characters.

also, unlike dee and yak's infuriating situationship in wandee goodday, i don't mind the undefined limbo that phum and peem have been occupying. this show has shown us that peem struggles with articulating his sense of self, most notably through his art, so it makes sense to me that he would be overly cautious in confirming his own feelings on an intellectual level, despite being able to act on his emotional and physical connection to phum.

i'm a little worried the show isn't leaving enough room to properly develop chainpun as the final couple, but what we haven gotten is delightful. in another universe this is the friends-to-lovers slowburn of my dreams.

knock knock boys (ep 5 of 12)

speaking of delights, this show is so fucking underrated. it has given me everything i wanted from its pilot trailer: the housemate shenanigans and comedic beats are chef's kiss, of course, but there's also a real sense of a camaraderie being built up between the four boys. the acting, also, has been remarkably even; i knew seng and best would bring it, but jaonine and nokia have held their own and really inhabited their roles.

i'm actually really pleased that jane is, in fact, peak's fiancee. the vibes that some of us got from that initial glimpse of their relationship wasn't wrong, though—they treat each other the way siblings do, which is probably indicative of an arrangement between their families. jane is on "i got your location from your dad" terms with peak's father, but she's also on "i'll cover for you and pretend you're not here" terms with peak, even as she's fully committed to invading his space and annoying the snot out of him until he gives in and stops running from his problems. extremely sibling behavior!! there is not a single whiff of romance between the two of them, but they are facing a difficult situation that will need to be resolved before either of them can move on and live their lives.

one thing about this show that i keep thinking about is the significance of thanwa's wardrobe. i clocked in ep 1 that he and his (probable) ex dressed very similarly, and the scene with the two of them in ep 5 just drove that detail home. now that we know thanwa a little better, i wonder if he's the type of person to conform to a lover's aesthetic (consciously or subconsciously). he is a caretaker and a little bit of a pushover, and clothing choice is a way that could manifest. it might not be anything, but i also wouldn't be surprised if we see some of peak's style sneak into thanwa's wardrobe as their romance develops.

there's so much more i could say about this show! the characters are all so fascinating to me, both individually and as a group!!! i'm gonna be late for a movie if i keep typing, though, so i will try to organize further thoughts after this week's episode.

love sea (ep 3 of 10)

as far as mame shows go, this has been unexpectedly enjoyable from the jump. fortpeat are delivering a much different dynamic than their whumpfest from LITA, and if you take out all the smoldering sex scenes, there has been plenty of actual character (and relationship) development through dialogue, which i appreciate. i like that the tension isn't confined to simple class difference; the writing situates mut at the intersection of various regional, economic, and environmental concerns, and that makes him so much more compelling as a foil to tongrak's more conventional slate of bl traumas. i do hope the show continues to maintain those core parts of his characterization as the romance progresses.

[thelordofgifs]

Congrats on 300 followers! Fic prompt if you want: Maedhros has been released from mandos because of Reasons but maglor is still MIA in middle earth and mae has Some Thoughts about this

Thank you for the prompt, anon! Sorry it's been *check notes* a month and a half.

-

Maedhros was almost the last of his family to return to life; only his father still lingered in the depths of Mandos, and would, some said, until the end of the world itself.

Maedhros found he cared very little about this. He had spent too long, in his first life, reminding himself that he was Fëanor's son, and Fëanor's heir, with all that entailed; and it had led him in the end only to ruin. Perhaps, this time around, he might do better. If even Curufin could walk again with the wife he had disavowed, and the son who had disavowed him – if Celegorm, who had wronged an elf-maid so cruelly, could hunt with Aredhel of all people once more – perhaps there was hope.

Well, there was more than hope: there was Fingon, who had been waiting for him when he first emerged from the Halls of Mandos. With the solid weight of Fingon's warm hand in his, Maedhros had begun to believe that living again would be possible. It was a belief that lasted until the first tear-filled reunion with his mother and brothers was over, and he asked, "Is Káno yet to return from Mandos?"

Everyone went very quiet.

At last someone – he did not later recall who – informed him that Maglor would not be returning from Mandos. Maglor had never died; and, as far as anyone knew, he wandered Middle-earth yet, although the Grey Havens were long since abandoned and no ship had sailed the Straight Road for many Ages of the Sun.

"I searched for him," Elrond told him, later, when Maedhros sought him out to ask. "I looked everywhere, for thousands of years. Galadriel, too, although she won't admit it. He did not want to be found."

The Maglor-of-memory was a laughing, sociable creature, whose dark eyes had always flashed brighter in company, and whose voice had always soared most sweetly before an audience. In the days of their youth – strange, now, to think that Maedhros had ever been young, although his skin was as soft and unmarred as it had been when he was a babe – Maglor had delighted in dragging him along to every concert's after-party, every impromptu poetry reading and outdoor picnic gathering as Telperion bloomed.

He had come to the Mereth Aderthad because Maedhros had asked it of him, and Maglor had always done as Maedhros asked; but he had enjoyed it, too, in a way that Maedhros, then not two decades free of Thangorodrim, could not. It was his clearest memory of the feast, now: not the careful diplomatic work he had put in between course after course of too-rich food, not the unclouded kindness of his uncle's smile, not the moonlight gleaming silver off the lake as Fingon embraced him where no-one else could see, but Maglor's clear bright laugh sounding above the chatter of the partygoers.

And even after everything had been lost, he had still loved the children they had stolen deeply; he had been happiest in their company, with one on his knee and the other nestled into his side, or as they grew older in the schoolroom learning their lessons and in training-yard as he taught them how to fight. Their few remaining followers, too, had increasingly turned to Maglor when they ran into small difficulties, for he did not shudder in disgust from those he had led into slaughter, and could yet summon up a smile when they spoke to him.

That Maglor, then, could ever choose solitude willingly! What had been done to him, who had always taken solace in the society of others?

Maedhros knew the answer to that, actually.

"I really did try everything," said Elrond, who was a venerable elf-lord now, and yet did not sound so different from the six-year-old Maedhros had met long ago.

"Yes," he said, and then he went away, unable to offer any better comfort.

It had always been Maglor who had offered comfort.

He would not be welcome in Alqualondë, even now. But the Bay of Eldamar was long, and there were beaches enough for lonely wandering here, within sight of the Sundering Sea. Long ago Maedhros had stood on the shores of Losgar and thought that name apt indeed – and although all the world was changed since that moment, the breach in his heart remained.

He knelt to dip his fingers in the salty water. Perhaps far away Maglor was doing the same. The brine would sting the burn on his blackened, withered hand, although the soft uncalloused skin of Maedhros’ palm did not protest its own submersion. Perhaps Uinen, weeping yet for the slaughtered Teleri, called up storms to disturb the glassy water as Maglor drew close; perhaps the seagulls of Elwing’s acquaintance swooped squawking at his head if he lingered in one spot too long. And did he not deserve it?

The Halls of Mandos were supposed to heal one’s spirit of its wounds, and there were few wounds deeper than those left by self-destruction. Although Maedhros knew, theoretically, how he had died, he had not thought of the moment since his return to life. Now the memory came rushing back to him: the terrible pain of the Silmaril in his hand, and the same holy light charring Maglor’s slim clever fingers as they curled around the jewel. Maedhros had led Maglor to it; he had pushed Maglor into stealing the Silmarils from Eönwë, and Maglor, unwilling, had done what Maedhros had asked of him.

“He does deserve it,” Maedhros said aloud, to the vast unfeeling Sea. “But – I did too, and—”

It had been too much to bear, the knowledge of what he had done to Maglor. Maedhros had jumped rather than face it. But he was alive now, and must reckon with this last and greatest crime: he had left Maglor. He had led his brother all throughout their miserable, bloody decline, and then he had abandoned him.

With some surprise he realised he was weeping. He had not yet shed a tear in this life; nor had he cried once in the last since the Nirnaeth Arnoediad. Maglor had wept for him, instead, had readied every brother for burial and bathed their dead faces with tears, had sung Maedhros to sleep with the laments written for their funerals. He had not been crying before Maedhros had jumped, but perhaps he had after.

Maedhros could not ask him. He would never see Maglor again.

Here, then, was the bitter truth: there were hurts yet past healing, and wrongs that the fire could not sear away. Maglor was gone, and it was Maedhros’ fault – and though he might mourn here forever, wandering the shores of Aman in some fruitless attempt to shadow his brother’s steps, it would not suffice to bridge the endless waters that lay between them.

What was left, then, in the face of that terrible self-knowledge? Only the sound of the lonely wind, which, try as he might, would not carry the sound of Maglor's voice to his ears, and the tang of salt upon his lips, and his tears falling vainly in the thankless Sea.

[dark-night-hero]

Imagine being the oldest sibling among the Todoroki siblings, family.

Imagine leaving the household at an early age due to lots of circumstances.

Imagine as years have gone by, the more guilty you become upon realizing you might have abandoned your own siblings in such shitty household. You were the oldest and yet here you are unable to protect your own siblings. Although the fact that you were still a child, a teen when you left the house. You should have taken them with you. But you were still young, unable to make meals and money for you own, what more could have happen when you take them with you, although your father never make back your allowances as per your request, it hurts your pride that you were still dependent on him.

Imagine as years have gone by, you grew apart from you siblings. Fuyumi understand, Natsu has more violent rection but he still understands, maybe the memories fo Touya still hunts him and he didn't want you to get pushed to that point too. And Shoto, you started seeing him less than before. Of course there were times that you visit the house, but only when your father wasn't around.

Imagine being in a relationship with Hawks, a man fast for his own good as well as a man full of secrets. It's funny that you don't even know his real name and only know him by his hero name. Still that's enough, after all, you have secrets of your own.

"Your phone has been beeping for a while now, (First name)(Lastname)." "What's up with the full name?" You laugh as you grab your phone delivered by one of your lovers feather. "Because if I don't you'll take a while to get then again like always." "I see the point and?" You roll your eyes at him before going through your phone.

Imagine as it was one of those rare days where your lover was by your side. And upon seeing the familiar 'Little Brother' on the lock screen, your eyes widen. After all it's been a while since he contacted you. In the first place you never sent him a message first, it was always him. It's just you couldn't bring yourself o contact him first.

"Who was it?" Your lover asked as he join you in the bed, warping his arms around your waist and resting his face on your tummy. "My little brother." "You have a little brother?" "Hmm yeah, three.. two little brother and one little sister." You smile bitterly but quickly brush it off. "What did they say? Was it an emergency?" "No, he was asking me if I could watch him at the sport festival." "Sport festival? He's at U.A?" You could only humm in agreement as you sent Shoto a reply. "You're going?" "He asked me if I could come, so I will." "As much as I want to go with you-" "Your busy." You cut him off before tossing your phone to the side and rub his hair, no words followed as he snuggle close to you. It's better if he doesn't come, after all, he was an endeavour fanatic and he was pretty much looking at your father unfavourable as you once told him a little about your background.

Imagine as you walk inside the academia you once strive to became a part of, you bitter chuckle left your lips as you once again check on the message left by your brother. The match won't start until after lunch. Adjusting your tinted glasses to hide away those turquoise eyes of your, brushing back a strand of your dyed (hair color) locks. You still have a lot of timme to waste so you just started having a food trip on the stands.

"I'm not using his power to win, I- I will refuse him with everything that I have." "Shoto-" "You- and then mom." You see his look down and grit his teeth. "Look here Sho-" "Shoto." Both of you turn around to see a figure you haven't seen in person for so long. "Enji Todoroki." You utter the name of the man right in front of you. And by the sound of his name being called, your eyes met his. "You left the detached house." "I'm old enough to handle my own." You replied without much thought.

Imagine as you were requested to leave per request not by your father but by your brother, you have no choice but to leave. With a bit of unease and consern, you left with a heavy heart. You barely see Shoto around. So the looks and state that he has lingers in your mind. Maybe because in some way, the way he looks remind you of Touya in a different way. "I can't do anything at all this time too." You spoke your thoughts out loud. And you stop, holding a hand to your mouth as your eyes widen upon realization and then you laugh.

Imagine the odd feeling on your chest as Shoto dominates his opponents only with his ice quirk, refusing to use the existence of his fire ones. It's odd seeing him like that. Makes you wonder if you did fail your duty as the oldest sibling, leaving your sibling in that household. While you gain freedom, your little siblings suffer under that household. You're just as guilty as you were back then. And even if you do want to reject his quirk, it was the only thing that has been keeping your body from being frozen by your own ice. The small flame deep inside your heart.

Imagine the shock as you see him use his flames. It was odd, and yet strangely refreshing. It was a sign of hope, that he was yet to fall on the same wrong path. It may not be you who guide the way, but you were glad someone did.

"I decided to visit mom." There was a moment of silence after that. "Are you mad?" "Me? I'm not." Suddenly you wanted a fresh air. But it's true that you're not mad. "I was never in a position where you need to ask for my consent to forgive someone." You shrug. "It was you who got hurt by Rei's action." "But that event made you leave." "That's one thing, Shoto." You spoke with a sigh. "Besides, it's better to forgive." "What about you?" "Hmm? Me?" "Do you forgive her?" "Once again, I have never in a situation where she has to ask for my forgiveness." "Then do you hate her?"

Imagine the short silence after that before you shrug once again. "I'm not sure." You spoke "And if you ask me the same thing about Enji, I would answer the same." You don't know. "When Touya died, I thought I hated father, then Rei did that, I thougt I hated her. But maybe I was just looking for someone to blame so the self guilt and hatred won't eat me." You added. "Be the one to forgive. You're kind, Shoto." You smile and messes with his hair. "And when the time comes, maybe I could too." Forgive yourself.

Imagine as you sat down the bed, the apartment empty with only you inside, you sat there in silence. It was then again a night where your lover wasn't around. Not that you were complaining, he was rarely around after all. Still as you sat there, towel around your neck as you were freshly out of the shower. It was cold, or maybe that was just your quirk. But it was cold. Then you chuckle, lifting your towel off your neck and give hair one last dry before putting it back on its place and lay down the bed by your lover's side of the bed. It was just your typical normal night after all.

Imagine it was one of those times where you visit the house, you knew Enji wasn't around so it was just you, Fuyumi and Natsu around as Shoto was still at school. "Shoto started seeing Mother again." "Hmm, he told me himself." You spoke before eating your usual cold soba. "Speaking of soba, leave Shoto some." "He likes soba?" "Yeah, it seems like he got it from me, he likes cold soba." You spoke without much thought. Then you heard someone dropped their chopstick. "What's the matter Natsu?" "We never knew that." He sounds so disappointed to himself it made you smile bitterly before reaching out a hand to pat him.

"Can I stay with you?" "Don't you have a dorm?" "But I still have to stay in here. Can't I just stay with you?" "Natsu, very one knows you're the son of Endeavour, you're much safer here." You hold on into his shoulder and gently squeeze it as he look down in disappointed. "Im sorry-" "Forget it, everything was his fault." You exactly knows who he was referring to. "You're leaving even before Shoto get home?" "Unfortunately I have to. I got a call from work I needed to arrive earlier than usual."

Imagine in your way back at home to your shared apartment with your lover, the one he got for both of you not too long after being in a relationship with him. You bumped into someone and you who happened to be going through your bag dropped it. "Oh shit, sorry!" Busy picking up your fallen things, you failed to see the guy you bumped with staring at you with a blank look on his face, nor did you notice the scars on his hand and face, hidden beneath his hoodie and mask.

Imagine as you apologise for the last time, you turn around and starts to walk away, this time paying attention to your surroundings as you walk. "Wait." "Hmm?" Turning around, it was the same guy earlier but this time he was holding on something as he seems to be reaching out to you. "You dropped this." It was a key chain, the only memento you have of Touya. It is a custom made key chain for Touya and you. A thing that glows when the other half was pressed for so long. "I- Thank you-!" As soon as you look forward, the man was missing on sight.

Imagine as you were busy looking around trying to find the guy, you failed to notice the way your key chain glows for a moment. Nevertheless, looking for the man you bumped with, you sigh and eventually give up. Still you had an odd feeling on your chest, earlier, even just for a moment when your fingers brushed upon his. It was warm, not just warm but it has a familiar warmth. "Touya?" Your eyes widen at the name that unconsciously came out of your lips.

Imagine the way you stood there in the middle of the side walk, in the middle of the night. But then you snap out of it. "Impossible." You shake your head, your twin dead a long time ago. Impossible, right?

[ⓒdark-night-hero] 2023°

[fairsexynasty]

—DIFFICULT THINGS

jamie tartt x lasso!reader

ONE. TOWNIE

summary: lucy moves to richmond with a memory that doesn’t quite forget what her dad did to her. however, ted is as happy as a goldfish.

warnings: cursing, unlikeable female protagonist, father issues, abandonment issues, resentment

a/n: welcome to this very new series i WILL finish. my love for this show has overtaken my time and i am very excited to be writing this. this chapter is set during “two aces.”

——————

Leonard Cohen once said, “There’s a crack in everything; that’s how the light gets in.” But my world has been infused with the darkest of shadows. Everywhere I search is covered by a dark spot. It seeps into my life from my dreams, nightmares, and memories. I don’t think I was delivered by the hand of God, nor will I be expecting any blessing in the near future. It’s the hope that kills you.

I had that epiphany when I turned seven. No one had ever seen a child so jaded, so self-aware. When I learned that the father I wished for wasn’t that interested in fully being in my life, I accepted it entirely, for what it was worth. He’s popped in and out, coming in as quickly as he leaves, only sticking around for moments he deemed essential to me.

And the worse part is that he’s a good man—a good man with a daughter who felt evil.

I used to wish something terrible would happen to me. A broken collarbone. A car accident. Cancer. If something like that happened to me, I thought he’d return and stay for good.

But those things never happened. I’ve never broken any bones. I’ve never crashed my car into a tree. I’m perfectly healthy. And after all this time, Dad has moved on.

I have a half-brother. Thirteen or fourteen years my junior, it’s disgusting how I’m not too sure about the gap. I’ve never met him, nor do I want to meet him. I envy a child who cannot understand the weight of the word ‘father’ because he’ll always take it for granted.

When I crawl through my memories, I can see Dad crystal clear. He showed up to every one of my birthdays until age sixteen. That’s probably because my brother was old enough to ask and understand why Dad was leaving him. Dad came to my first dance, a father-daughter dance. It was one of the nights I honestly felt pretty. He and I danced the night away, stuffing our faces with candy and desserts and drinking our weight’s worth of soda pop. Dad taught me how to ride a bike. Although it ended with scraping my knees, he helped me up, cleaned my knees, and kissed each one. Dad drove me to my first day of high school. The morning went by quickly, but I can still remember the smile on his face as I waved goodbye to him and walked through the school doors.

I want to be thankful for what I’ve gotten from my dad. But he could have done so much more. Am I not worth the effort?

And it hurts to hate my mother as much as I do.

She could clean up her act for Dad, but once he was on his way home, she’d finally ease into consciousness. We would fight. She’d accuse me of not appreciating her. She’d belittle me and never congratulated me on my accomplishments. She’s manipulative. Controlling. Narcissistic. Evil. I know I’m no good, either. But women like that love confrontation. And she got the best of me every single time.

But I’m a grown woman now. I’m twenty. I have a life. A freedom I’ve never known. I’m trying to be honest, to prove I am everything Mom never thought I’d be. I’m trying to make Dad proud of me. Because everyone else is sure as hell proud of him, he’s Ted Lasso: a simple man with a simple plan who was pulled to spread his kindness in Richmond, England, by coaching their god-awful team. I watched the news with a frown as soon as they announced his new endeavor. If he got a new beginning, why can’t I?

And that’s why I decided to pack up my things and move to England.

I’ve been here before. My mother and I moved around due to her line of work. Whether it was Shanghai, Princeton, Kuala Lumpur, or Rome, I could never call those places home. I feel like Richmond is going to be different. I’m not hopeful. Just curious.

——

The park seems comforting. There appears to be a rhythm that compliments the people. Kids playing soccer, and shops opening for the day.

I sit and watch the world awaken. People pass me by as I sit on the bench, not one of them stopping their routine for me, except one.

lHis greetings were met with responses of “Wanker,” a word I found oddly endearing. He continued down the park trail, saying ‘good morning’ to me mindlessly.

I replied with a deadpan “Wanker,” which surprised him, given my American accent. He turned back, his eyes lighting up in recognition.

“Oh, my lordy-lord,” he muttered, smiling as he said my name, “Lucy.” He looks at me as if I’m a fucking unicorn. His eyes soften, and the smile that always reaches his eyes is suddenly on his face. “ Lucy !” he breathes out as if he’s too scared to say it louder like I’ll run away and leave.

“Hi, Dad.” He pulls me from my seat on the bench and envelops me into the biggest bear hug I’ve ever gotten from him. And those hugs are grizzly and unrelenting.

He lifts me off my feet and holds my head to his shoulder. “Oh, how I love you, Lucy girl. I can’t believe it!”

I groan, feeling slightly embarrassed. "Dad, please put me down. I'm not as tiny as Henry is," I say with a laugh. He puts me down with a smile, but there’s a flash of a solemn look on his face. I guess my mention of Henry has filled him with some semblance of guilt. I can’t tell if that satisfies me or not. "I think you're wondering why I'm here," I say, the false smile still on my face. "And the only reason is because I wanted to see you, Dad. I missed you," I add, trying to perfect the role of the doting daughter, even though it doesn't come naturally.

“Oh, I missed you too, Pumpkin. I’m glad you’re here.” He spots my luggage standing against the bench. “Looks like you’re gonna be visiting for a while, huh?”

I nod slowly, my gaze briefly shifting away. "Yeah, I am. Needed a change of scenery for a while," I admit, hoping he won't probe further into my true reasons for being here.

Dad nods, but I spot him scanning my face for any information I won’t outwardly tell him. Perhaps it’s a parently instinct, or maybe it’s just a Ted Lasso thing. The smile on my face doesn’t falter.

“So, how’s your mom?”

The question hangs in the air, and I can sense the curiosity in his eyes. I clench my jaw and roll my eyes in annoyance. "I really don't want to talk about her right now," I say firmly, hoping to steer the conversation away from a topic I'd rather avoid.

Dad gives me one of those fatherly smiles, understanding my need for privacy but also indicating he'll inquire about it later. "Alright then. How about we get you settled into my place? Don't care if you've found one already. I got you here with me, and you're not going anywhere, missy. I hope that's alright with you," he adds, his face hopeful as he waits for my response.

I acquiesce to his requests. It’s the least I can do. “Sure, Dad. I’d love to.”

He cheers with a fist pump, then wrangles me into yet another bear hug before I tell him he’s crushing my ribs, and he dramatically lets me go with a pout on his face.

I follow him down the streets to his apartment door. We enter, and it’s pretty lovely, yet it feels so hollow. There’s an opened jar of peanut butter on the island. I can tell he radiates joy as we unpack my things into an extra bedroom. I wonder how lonely he’s been without his son and wife.

Yeah. This is the least I can do.

——

After unpacking and settling in, Dad practically begs me to come to Nelson Road with him, and since I’m already feeling a bit guilty, I come along with him.

Upon entering, some guy with a full beard and eyebrows that make him look perpetually constipated looks at me. Well, it’s more of a glare. He walks up to Dad and me, not once taking his eyes off me. I narrow my eyes in response, shooting him a cold glare of my own. “Who the fuck is this? Don’t tell me Rebecca hired another fucking American.” His voice is deep and rumbling and full of snark.

"Seriously, do all British guys walk around with a stick up their ass?" I quip, but my remark falls on deaf ears. I catch the man clenching his jaw at my question. Ah, it seems he doesn't take kindly to being disrespected. One jab at his masculinity, and he's ready to go to war without a second thought.

"Roy Kent, meet my daughter, Lucille," Dad introduces, but I quickly interject, "Lucy to you." I emphasize my preference, not one to stand on formality. "Who the fuck are you, Roy Kent?" I ask, gauging his reaction as he looks between me and my dad, clearly trying to figure something out. I decide to clear the air, "Yeah, my mom isn't Michelle," I clarify, hoping to put any confusion to rest.

Roy's response is a simple "Oh," followed by a grunt as he exits the scene. My dad remains unfazed and carries on, guiding me towards the locker room with his arm casually draped around my shoulder.

"Coach Beard! We've got a new cast member!" Dad announces to the room as we walk out together, seemingly excited to introduce me to his colleagues.

A man with a book and a golf hat turns his chair around and observes us. “Well, well, well. If it isn’t the fussbudget,” he says. “Hello, Lucy. I’m Coach Beard. I’ve heard all about you.”

I can't help but snort at the situation. "That's impossible," I retort with a snarky tone. Coach Beard finds my reaction amusing, letting out a chuckle, while my dad gives a slight frown, but I know a few jabs won't easily rattle him.

Suddenly, a strong voice breaks the chatter, announcing, "Ayo, the gaffer's got another kid!" The rest of the men turn their attention to me, their eyes filled with wonder and intrigue. They excitedly chat, asking if they saw what they think they did.

Exiting the office, we step into the open room where my dad proudly introduces me to the team. "Fellas, I'd like to introduce you to my daughter. This is Lucy, everyone."

The players greet me with waves and hellos, except for one guy sitting on the bench, engrossed in his phone, occasionally laughing. I point him out, asking, "Who's that?"

"Jamie Tartt. Hey, Beard, what's the deal with Jamie?" my dad inquires, and seemingly out of nowhere, Jamie appears beside us without making a sound.

Beard responds, "Says he can't practice today. Says he's hurt."

I observe my dad's face dropping with disappointment as he turns to walk out the door and over to Jamie, concern etched across his features.

The whole situation was intense, and I couldn't recall ever seeing my father this angry before. It seemed like there had never been an opportunity for him to get this worked up until now. Watching him unleash his frustration on Jamie reminded me of my mom, who had her share of heated moments. While my dad appeared to be justified in his outburst, Jamie's disrespectful behavior only reinforced my 'British men suck shit' theory.

Feeling overwhelmed, a tingling sensation crept into my head, and my heart raced with the familiar signs of an impending panic attack. I needed to escape, so I swiftly turned on my heel and walked out of the office, trying to distract myself by fiddling with the rings on my fingers.

Wandering aimlessly down the halls, I searched for a private space to catch my breath and calm down. Passing a laughing man, a short guy carrying a laundry bag, and a stunning blonde woman who seemed out of place here, I stopped in my tracks when I heard my dad's name mentioned in a hushed conversation.

"Rebecca, I don't think Coach Lasso will be too thrilled about you trading Jamie away.”

“Higgins, listen to me. I don't care if Lasso is trying to get through to Jamie or if he begs him to come back. Jamie is not returning, and that's precisely what I need," she asserts before abruptly changing the subject, "Now, let me go hunt down my biscuits. They're late."

Realization hits me like a ton of bricks. Dad is being sabotaged. All this time, I believed he was here to make a positive impact on the team, but it turns out they see him as nothing more than a joke. Stepping away from the door, I attempt to make a quick exit, only to collide with a statuesque woman who towers over me.

She glances down at me, exuding power through her stature and fashion, but I'm not intimidated. "Why, hello there, whoever you are. Are you lost?" she inquires.

Ah, this must be Rebecca. The woman who plans to screw my father over. I can't help but roll my eyes at her. "No. Just looking for the bathroom," I retort.

Rebecca gestures towards the sign, displaying her passive-aggressiveness. "Well, it's just around the corner. Right where the 'bathroom' sign is," she points out.

"Cool," I respond nonchalantly, not letting her faze me. "Oh, and by the way, my name's Lucy. Thanks for hiring my dad to coach!"

I catch a flicker of terror in Rebecca's eyes before I walk away, grinning to myself. Drama seems to follow me wherever I go, even in Richmond. Old habits die hard, I suppose.

——

After my quick trip to the loo, I wander over to the dog track, where Dad and Beard stand, closely observing the team's training session. I can't help but chuckle at Jamie's predicament as he wears a penny and sets up cones.

Dad notices my arrival and playfully calls out, "Oh, there you are, Waldo! What were you doing?"

His attempts at humor fail to catch me off guard. While I understand his references, I refuse to engage in the corniness. "Nothing, just using the bathroom," I reply with a mischievous grin, not willing to spill the beans about Rebecca's scheming ways. "Oh, and I met Rebecca. She seems nice," I lie sarcastically, well aware of her conniving nature.

Before Dad can respond, a rather handsome player approaches us gracefully. "Hello there. Sorry, Coach Lasso, but I couldn't continue practice without introducing myself to our guest," he says with a charming smile. "My name is Sam Obisanya. It's a pleasure to meet you, Lucy. The other players and I were wondering if you'd care to join us on the field for a few minutes. We'd like to have some fun at Jamie's expense. Is that alright?"

I return Sam's smile and reply, "Uh, sure. But I haven't played in years, dude. Not sure I'll be any good among you professionals.”

Sam brushes off my concerns, reassuring me, "Oh, that's alright, Lucy. I'm sure Thierry will let you score a couple of goals. Come on!" With that, he guides me towards the field, announcing to the team, "She said yes, you guys!" Their enthusiastic cheers fill the air.

As we assemble for a quick game, a guy with a buzzed fade named Isaac addresses me, confirming my name, "Alright, Lucy, is it?" I nod, and he explains the teams, "We're gonna split into five and five, and you're gonna play with the lads who ain't got a kit on."

"Sounds good," I respond with enthusiasm. I turn to the guys without kits, and each extends a hand for a handshake. I go down the line, shaking hands with each one. There's a short man with curly hair, Bumbercatch, followed by a tall fellow with a broad smile, Jan Maas. Then, a highly energetic man named Dani Rojas greets me, not wasting any time to exclaim, "Football is life!" right in front of me. The last guy, a mousey brunette named Colin, completes the line-up.

Quickly getting into formation with my newfound teammates, they place me front and center for the play. I'm facing off with Sam, who gives me a friendly smile. At the sound of the whistle, we both dash for the ball, but I swiftly take control and dribble it down the field. Roy Kent charges towards me, determined to tackle the ball away, but I outmaneuver him with a quick juke, causing him to land on his ass. The guys react with astonishment, and suddenly, the game shifts from Sam's gentle start to full intensity.

Isaac rushes towards me, sporting a determined expression, but I pass the ball to Dani Rojas, who's open and ready. Dani drives it down the field, but as soon as he spots an opportunity, he passes it back to me. With precision, I shoot the ball into the goal, leaving the goalkeeper stunned as it whizzes past him.

The entire team stands in complete silence, including my dad and Coach Beard, who are both staring at me with their mouths agape. The momentary hush is broken by Jamie Tartt, who teasingly remarks, "Ay, wanker's kid just got you real good, lads." He winks at me, provoking a gag from me followed by a flip-off.

Isaac can't contain his excitement, exclaiming, "Shit, bruv! You just broke Roy Kent's ankles!"

Roy growls behind me, clearly not pleased with being outplayed. "You got fucking lucky, kid," he grumbles.

I don't back down, confidently replying, "Luck's got nothing to do with it. Either you're cursed or you just ate shit, Kent."

I have to admit, Richmond has exceeded my expectations thus far, but I won't let it get the best of me just yet.

[poindexters-labratory]

Hurricane William Afton Lore Dump Part 3 (aka I Tell You the Afton Family Drama)

CW: discussion of mental illness, trauma, divorce, violent thoughts, abuse, self-worth issues, cheating, and abandonment

Let's start this part out by making one thing clear: William is not great at taking care of himself. Not great at taking care of himself is the sense that, while he can survive, he doesn't thrive. At least when he was younger. This directly contributed to William as an adult being a highly immature and childish individual.

He was no longer put in a directly dangerous environment (although he remains in a chronic state of unease and paranoia), but the constant stressors throughout his development resulted in emotional instability. This emotional instability impairs his ability to form and keep relationships, make premeditated decisions, and have a solid self image. Therefore, the people that interact with him often (employees, Henry, Claire, associates, and frequent acquaintances) view him as immature, childish, neurotic, and kind of a bitch.

This was soon swept under the rug labeled as, "just how he was".

As the situation for William got increasingly more stressful after Fredbear's opened, this instability became more apparent. He started to have fights with his wife and Henry very, very often. Especially after Henry met Rosa (eventually Mrs. Emily), who he was now including in the creative business of Fredbear's. This caused William's first mental breakdown that wasn't nearly as bad as his second.

Now, let's talk about those notebooks. Those stacks upon stacks of notebooks mentioned in The Silver Eyes. William's most common self-therapeutic exercise was using these notebooks to rant, rave, vent, and everything in between. Henry and Claire both knew of these journals and respected his privacy to not ask what was in them.

After Fredbear's Family Diner opened, these books started to curb from venting about his feelings concerning his childhood, personal inadequacy, the political environment, and into these more violent entries toward people. Toward Rosa specifically. Well, it started as just Rosa, then it slowly trickled into various people he felt slighted by during the day.

Getting his feelings out on paper helped but he had been disposed to violence, opposition, and confrontation throughout his life before now. Safe to say he was a fighter when it came to fight-or-flight stress responses. Most of the altercations he's had with others weren't physical, but he did know how to bruise an ego to the point where a swing was taken. He's never ever laid a hand on his children.

He didn't want his kids to live in the same kind of fear he did, they didn't deserve that kind of life. Despite what his father would say, William wasn't stronger for the cruel punishments he got. If anything, he was just angry and afraid.

Claire and William would get into very loud arguments over the stupidest things he would roll his eyes at, whisper under his breath, and laugh at her about. William wasn't the only one going through a tough time.

Claire was in a practically loveless marriage with a gay man, in the middle of a nowhere place thousands of miles away from home, feeling useless and unappreciated. To her, Michael and Evan were William's kids, not hers. She was deathly homesick and couldn't deal or compromise with William's temperament, because William always thought of himself as the right one in every situation. She felt like a guest in her own house.

She couldn't have a public relationship with anyone else than William because of their marriage status they didn't want to get pestered about. Claire felt like she didn't have a life here and she wanted to go back home. William and Claire got divorced in 1973 and she was going to leave the country that same year, but of course, something came up.

Henry may or not have been having an affair with Claire. His wife, Rosa had no idea and their daughter, Charlotte, was on the way. William laughed in both of Henry and Claire's faces when they explained what happened. Elizabeth was born early 1974 with Henry's red hair and green eyes.

There was an odd tension between the three of them (Henry, Claire, and William) at this time. Almost apologetic, but all of them much too proud as people to verbalize it. Henry and Rosa get divorced after she finds out what happened, Henry and her sharing custody of Charlie, which causes another shift in Henry's personality.

Michael was especially affected by the environment, attaching to his father's style of stress management (internalize it and throw fits of rage). He was starting into altercations with school peers at this point, William always taking his side of the argument whenever he had to get involved.

After a few years to allow Elizabeth to grow, Claire then left with the toddler for London in 1977, leaving Michael and Evan behind for William to raise. William wonders to himself, "how hard could this possibly be?"

This marks the end of the the AU's first installation, "Wild Cat".

[octoqueen10]

More info on Henry and Daphne

TW: divorce, self doubt, abandonment, blame

Since childhood, Daphne has been in the shadow of her fashion designer mom and her musician dad. While she was proud to be the daughter of two icons in their respective fields, she always wanted to be more than ‘Donita’s daughter’ or “Henry’s kid’. She didn’t get any of her father’s musical talent or her mother’s eye for fashion trends, leading her to believe she could never be successful. When she saw the internet become more popular, she capitalized on her chance to be a star, independent of her parents joining social media at a young age and becoming a large influencer with her good looks and sassy charisma. Daphne modeled all of her mother’s clothing except for her designs featuring live animals, instead encouraging her to use animal-inspired designs, which she did later at her daughter’s insistence. She tried to convince her father to allow her to use him in videos, but he always refused, so she eventually stopped asking and made travel content from her being with her mother constantly. Daphne loves to travel and is fluent in Greek, Spanish, and French in addition to English, something she has been able to use to her advantage in her travels. 

As Daphne grew older and more mature, her relationship with her mother blossomed while her relationship with her father struggled. She always viewed her Dad as her protector and #1 fan, even when he was off on tour in a faraway land. Henry always took her side when arguing with her mother, and insisted that everything he did was for her. Their relationship completely changed when her parents divorced and he married Allison. Daphne saw the whole ordeal as a total blindside and was upset with her mother, wanting to live with her dad full-time. Allison was another fashion designer, although much less established and respected than Donita, and often compared their work, insisting her’s was better. Allison hated the idea of Daphne and how she was a link to Henry’s more successful ex-wife and took it out on Daphne, saying she would leave Henry if Daphne lived with them. Daphne tried to convince Henry that she didn’t like her and was mean, but Henry refused to listen to her and asked her why her mother was filling her head up with lies, choosing Allison over Daphne, a recent pattern. They began to see each other less and less, particularly after her half-siblings came into the mix. The only reason Daphne comes over anymore is to play and interact with her little siblings, who are obsessed with her and want to be just like her, much to their mother’s disappointment. Henry was too busy with his new family for Daphne, and that shattered her heart. She began to question if love like the fairytales was even real if it was all made up or worse, not made for her. All the relationships she had, felt like the boy was using her for fame or money, making her question her own sense of self, independent from her job and family. She felt like she didn’t have hobbies of her own separate from her work, and her friendships felt one sided, with her putting in more work than she was getting. Who is Daphne Donata? Why couldn’t she answer such a simple question?

Henry felt bad about his relationship with his oldest daughter but truly believed that Daphne was lying about Allison and was jealous of her half-siblings. He instead began to focus on teaching his other children his talents, trying not to think about Daphne too much, even going as far as to delete his social media to not see her on his feed anymore, at Allison’s request. He also feels a lot of pent-up anger towards Donita for putting him in an impossible position, pushing his daughter away from him because of her issues with him. He resented her for never compromising in their marriage and for putting her work ahead of her family and marriage. The divorce wasn’t entirely his fault and he needed her to stop acting like it was and to get over her superiority complex over everyone, especially him. One day he wants to reunite his two families together and have everyone get along, but in the meantime, he is focused on being a better husband and father to his new family.

[i-sveikata]

Hello my fantastic author, how are you?

Today I'm back with a question that came to me while rereading chapter 15 (or 16.. oh my I'm missing out too much XD). The scene, or rather the concept, is when Pete finds out through his grandmother that Vegas has left him, literally, a mountain of money in her bank account. I was thinking back to the scene when Pete was in the car with Vegas at the funeral (whoo the first time Pete actually asked Vegas to give him a blowjob XD - bold Pete) where Pete understands that something is wrong but Vegas doesn't say anything about the money.

I always thought that she did this gesture of love to allow Pete to somehow escape from that world if things went badly. But then reading the following chapters, and as we have seen Vegas exposed under the drugs, I have a question or maybe two:

Vegas could have done, even if unconsciously, this gesture thinking that Pete could have abandoned him to live with his grandmother far from everything and therefore would have lived better without him?

Or Vegas could have done this because he knew there would be a coup and wanted Pete to be able to choose and live?

I am not so convinced that the second option could be true, judging from the recklessness and certainty that Vegas showed during the attack on Pete, being sure that he and his father would have overthrown Korn, but I am curious about your opinion author.

Just for information … I had this thought again last week then puff it disappeared and I continued to think "Damn what was I supposed to ask …." and then luckily it came back to me!!!

Aahahah your VegasPete occupy my mind completely!!!

Thanks as always…and if you want to share some other little Vegas/Pete interactions from the next chapter, who am I to stop you??? Hahaha

Hey there!! Im doing great got a public a holiday Monday so long weekend woohoo I’m thriving!

Oh interesting question!

But I will point out that in the fic Pete and his grandmother have a shared bank account because Pete takes looking after his grandmother very very seriously (and is very high key feeling like he’ll never be able to pay her back for saving him as a child) which is why he’s more hands on then say her actual sons/ Pete’s uncles.

So it wasn’t necessarily a gesture towards Pete’s grandmother. Although Vegas gave him the money fully aware that Pete would probably use it to help his family (and even maybe his friends).

Vegas’ decision was made by three important factors: being injured and forced to confront his own mortality, wanting Pete to be able to protect himself financially so the rest of Vegas’ family couldn’t use that to hold Pete ransom like they ended up doing with Porsche and wanting to be certain Pete is able to look after himself regardless of whether Vegas died or not.

I think because Vegas is afraid of being abandoned, he’s doing everything in his power to emotionally push Pete away first before it hurts too much. Only he keeps affording Pete the kind of agency and power that means Pete could walk away and choose to do so with minimal damage (in Vegas opinion which obvs we all know is wrong lol). But an interesting consequence of that is he’s actually making Pete even more certain of Vegas in some ways then he otherwise would have been if Vegas had tried to hold on too tightly and tried to tie him up, lock him away and control him etc.

Vegas keeps proving that he’d help Pete in spite of his own interests- he’s putting Pete first in a way that Pete hasn’t really experienced all that much. It’s also why Pete’s care of Vegas has intensified in the last few chapters or so: he’s fully aware that Vegas is giving him everything even going as far as to go against his own personal safety. So of course Pete is now watching his back for him, shoring up that side when it’s clear Vegas will give him everything and won’t protect himself. Pete isn’t an unequal lover, that kind of devotion is especially effecting him and that’s why he’s trying to return it in his own ways. By being protective of Vegas and his body, by stealing him away from the main family, by helping him claim back the head of the minor family etc etc.

Vegas was definitely reckless with himself during the coup but not Pete. And I think he’s starting to figure out the kind of person Pete is- he realises Pete would never have been satisfied running away forever. Or giving up the life for good. Pete’s not like Kinn and Porsche he actually chose this for himself in a lot of similar ways that Vegas chose to embrace his own criminal inheritance.

Tbh despite his own internal misgivings about himself, Vegas loves in a way that’s almost antagonistic to how he perceives himself. Vegas sees himself as a monster, a weapon something that can only inflict pain and suffering. But it’s interesting to see how that comes across in his relationships. Those he loves he protects, Vegas’ love is to shield others from suffering. So they don’t experience the kind of pain that he has experienced in his life. Which is why he stood between his father and his brother and it’s why he gave Pete all that money.

He’s mostly a weapon but he’s also a shield, whereas Pete is mostly a shield but also a weapon.

Like Pete has protected the family of course, but he’s inflicted suffering on others at their behest also. He hasn’t solely been a noble shield. There are shades of grey in the things he’s done to survive just as there are in Vegas.

It’s funny too because I don’t think either of them have clicked with how often they’re switching between that dynamic as they’re moving through the world. If one is being the weapon the other is generally being a shield- those bastards are so freaking compatible it makes me want to chew at the walls hahahha.

I would love to share a snippet but alas I’m at work! I’ll come back and add something in later :) but hope that sort of answers your question!

[my-rose-tinted-glasses]

A second long lost parent appears and this is where I check out. I've made one small post before and I wasn't going to make another but for some reason I can't stop myself so here it is.

Go Ahead is good. I mean it is so good. I just finished episode 7. However, there's this pit in my stomach every time I watch it and honestly I don't really need that right now. To explain this I'm gonna get a bit personal so if you don't care just don't read.

My father left when I was in the womb. So that alone made this show right from the start perhaps too relatable for me. I'm a grown woman now and I don't think about it all that much to be honest but it's a whole other thing to have it shown back to me in series format.

Let me talk a little about episode 4.

This was when I knew I couldn't really binge this show. If I actually wanted to watched it all, I needed to take my time and choose wisely when to watch it.

See I have a half-sister, younger by about 12 years I think, from my father's side. I've met her exactly once, and after that, when I was in my twenties I got an email from my father saying his father had died and he made sure that in the same e-mail he made me feel like shit because apparently I didn't care enough about my sister to go see her or ask about her. Can you believe this shit? This was a man that left me and my mom, who I saw maybe 4 times total in my whole life and he had the audacity of putting that on me.

And the thing is, just like it's not Ling Xiao's sister fault, it's not my sister's fault. But to care about her would make my father happy and that was the last thing I wanted. So to see Ling Xiao have that exact same struggle was a lot.

Cause this is not an easy thing. This child has done nothing wrong. She's absolutely adorable, at first anyway, and wants a brother. Understandable. But it's what she represents. When Ling Xiao is helping her with homework, I can see him being completely split between wanting to be a good person, because he is, and not wanting to give his mother that satisfaction. This girl becomes an avatar and not just a little sister. There's a lot of reasons I've still haven't met my own sister, and really all the relatives from that side of the family, but one of the reasons I didn't at first, was that I didn't wanna project on her my issues with her father, because he was good to her. Why would I ruin that? And can I really separate things? At this age, probably, but at eighteen or in my twenties when I was first confronted with this? I'm not sure I could. I'm an expert in avoidance so we may never know. And that's what Ling Xiao is battling at that moment. He has a family, he has a sister, and although he understands on a rational level that this kid is his sister and he could have a relationship with her, there's just too much baggage to consider.

So after that I continued. I was only 4 episodes in and I honestly thought it was so well done. And I mean I did consider the possibility that this could happen again. God knows there's enough children abandoned in this show. But still I wanted to watch. The scene in episode 5 where Li Hai Chao is drunk and talking about his sons had me in tears. And those moments sustained me. Because this family is one of the most beautiful depicted families I think I ever watched. You can feel the love in every scene. I have my own 'brother' that I've known since I was 2 and that relationship got me through everything. So these 3 have my whole heart.

That is until the fried chicken in episode 7. Zi Qiu's father came back and I thought I was okay. Like it couldn't get any worse right? But then that whole scene with the guys eating the fried chicken and making absolutely stupid comments, and then Zi Qiu throwing it all on the floor and then... well pretty much everything in the episode after that...I was sobbing. It was a lot. I don't know about other people, but ever since I was a kid until I was in uni there was always a part of me that wondered. What if he came back? What if he had a good reason? Which is absolutely ridiculous cause eventually you realize there's actually no reason that would make up for everything. And Zi Qiu's father did come back and every time he opened his mouth, I wanted to scream at him.

The thing is. It's one thing to be over it, in this 'I don't really think about it a lot' kind of way. It's a whole other thing to willingly sign up for a reminder. Yeah I'm "over it" and I healed some but the scars are still there and I just don't need to be forced to look at them. I have enough triggers as it is and this is a long investment that I don't think I'm able to do right now.

I have absolutely no doubt this show holds up throughout, because this was a recommendation from @lurkingshan so I have no doubt about the quality. And maybe one day, when I feel more up to it I might try again but not right now. Maybe never. I'm not kind to myself enough as it is and it takes a lot for me to stop watching a show once I start. But this time I think I really can't do it. Maybe I will never watch it. And that's okay.

[beevean]

Something happened that lead me to think.

Yesterday, I read a long message that was left to me on November 24 (it was on Messenger and I don't use FB anymore): an old friend of mine, that abandoned me 10 years ago, wrote me a long, long letter of apologies for her past behavior.

We were close, although long distance, friends. I was 16-18, and she was two years older than me. She was a very intelligent, studious girl, and we could relate to each other for our shyness and lack of friends among other things. But she suffered from OCD and depression, things I honestly did not know how to handle at the time, and they interfered with our relationship. She was extremely insecure, constantly doubting that I cared about her, acting up if I invited my classmates over to study together, making me feel responsible for her staying alive.

Long story short, she eventually found herself a boyfriend and decided I wasn't worth the effort anymore. I think she said something like "being together with you isn't stimulating anymore".

(btw, in her letter she offhandedly mentioned that now she has understood her sexuality better, which doesn't surprise me - I can believe she had a crush on me and it manifested in a terrible way. I myself sometimes consider her my first girlfriend :\)

She and my father "abandoning" me at the same time caused me suicidal thoughts that to this day I'm battling with. But I eventually forgave my father: I think he paid enough for what he did. With her, I honestly thought I'd never hear from her again. I tried to learn my lesson, and honestly I strived to never become like her. Which I failed to do, sadly.

And I haven't responded to her yet because I honestly don't know where to begin. It's been ten years, and while I'm in a better place than where she left me off, I'm not exactly in a good place either. But... just the thought of contacting me after a decade to apologize? Was the guilt really that strong?

And then, today my boyfriend made a surprise visit to talk face to face.

I thought he was also done with me after we spent a month essentially making each other sick. I was trying to move on, because really, I'm not going to cry again for the umpteenth person who gets tired of me (a mentality I "learned" from this old friend of mine, that eventually I'll bore everyone away), but yes, I was thinking all this time "man, five years down the drain, what a waste".

And what does he do when he showed up? He apologized to me. He realized that I was right about some of the things I told him. That he gets passive-aggressive when angry, that he's excessively proud, that sometimes his advice got too insistent. He thought about it, and he drove to my house (it's an one hour drive) to speak to me with his heart in his hand, fully knowing that I could have said that I don't love him anymore or I found someone else.

We made up. I have made my mistakes, I need to change as a person, but I honestly, honestly appreciated that he made the effort to actually examine himself and ask for closure.

So... I guess the takeaway from this is that I, too, deserve to be apologized to. I always feel like I'm a screw up and everything I do is wrong and I need to constantly apologize myself. It's what I argued with my boyfriend over. So, as self-centered as this may sound, yes I do feel better about myself now.

But also, I'm constantly afraid of reaching out to people for fear of rejection, or that it's too late to make amends or anything. And yet look at this. An apology after ten years. I really should take this to heart.

[thepaleys]

On 30 August 1902, the day after the imperial family had attended the wedding of his brother-in-law Nicholas of Greece and Helen, the only daughter of Grand Duke Vladimir, in the church of the Catherine Palace at Tsarskoe Selo, Paul left St Petersburg for Italy, taking with him a case containing the three million roubles he had asked a court official to bring to him at the railway station.

Ella and Serge followed, hoping that they might somehow make him change his mind. It was to no avail. As they, like the Tsar, were to discover after the event, Paul had married his recently-divorced mistress that September in the Greek Orthodox church at Livorno (Leghorn) in Tuscany. Writing to his distraught children, he explained what he had done and why he would have to live abroad for some time.

In Paris, Paul and Olga whose relationship grew stronger still, came to enjoy a cosmopolitan, cultured and stimulating lifestyle. If they were not the guests of honour at high society functions, at the opera or the ballet, they were entertaining artists, writers and distinguished visitors at home. Paul collected antiques and works of art and, in short, lived a fuller, more rewarding life than might otherwise have been the case had he remained in Russia.

He was, nevertheless, deprived of his children and even though he had been warned of the forfeits of a morganatic marriage, he may still have hoped that the Emperor would allow Dimitry and Marie Pavlovna to live with him. Instead, their guardianship passed to Serge at his request; notwithstanding the close bond the two brothers had always shared, the lack of consultation over that left Paul – although it was he who had broken all the rules – angry and bitter.

At home, Marie and Dimitry would never accept the fact that their father had left them, blindly believing that he was somehow the injured party, the innocent victim of a harsh imperial system. As a consequence, both would always, though perversely, blame Serge and Ella for what they were not; in other words for not being the father who had abandoned them to begin a new life and a new family. In time, Marie's lifelong resentment would find public expression in her highly subjective autobiography, Education of a Princess, which she would publish in New York in 1930 and would tellingly dedicate to the memory of her father.

As a man who always loved children and who, for all his failings, deeply loved his nephew and niece, Serge was happy to have Dimitry and Marie under his wing. We cannot be so sure about Ella's feelings, however. That she was hurt and angered by Paul's dereliction of duty and family is beyond all doubt. Indeed, as a once intimate and loving sister-in-law, her attitude towards him changed completely and, though civil to him when they did meet again, it is unlikely she ever forgave him. Nor does her surviving correspondence, for all its diversity and detail, shed any light on her innermost feelings at this time.

Yet here was a childless 37-year-old woman, who had married at the age of nineteen, who from the first year of her marriage had had to put up with endless gossip, rumour and innuendo about her husband and the state of their relationship, who now found herself with a ready-made family. While it is not always possible to take everything she wrote as fact – reminiscences coloured by time and prejudice are not the most reliable of sources – we can be sure that Marie Pavlovna was telling the truth when she wrote, 'Throughout our early childhood – throughout, indeed, our uncle's lifetime – Aunt Ella showed no interest in us or in anything that concerned us, and she saw as little of us as she could. She appeared to resent our presence in the household, and our uncle's evident affection for us.'

Ella: Princess, Saint And Martyr - Christopher Warwick

[hellogoodbye14]

Don’t Leave - Feysand and Nyx (One Shot)

Rhys has to leave for a while to help another High Lord and young Nyx is having trouble with his father leaving for so long. Warning ⚠️: Feysand and Nyx wholesomeness

Not much made Feyre anxious these days but the thought of her mate leaving for Summer Court sure did the job. Rhys had to leave and help Tarquin manage the civil war ensuing within Spring Court and Feyre had to stay back and coordinate with Winter to send reinforcements on time if need be.

And although she was nervous to send her mate to a very dangerous and unpredictable environment… as of the moment.. well she was more nervous about Nyx’s reaction to his father leaving for a whole month. Rhys had to leave and he couldn’t risk winnowing to check in on them simply because someone was able to track his movements.

“Momma, when will we bake the cake for Uncle Azriel?”, Nyx asked as he sits near the living room table swinging his legs and making a very brightly coloured birthday card.

She shuffled his dark hair.

“In a few days sweetheart.”

“I want to make a chocolate cake for him, we’ll get daddy to help too!”

Feyre’s heart sank just a smidge then. She was about to start explaining when she caught sight of Rhys stepping into the living room with a bag.

Nyx looked up at the sound of his footsteps, his legs stopped swinging and he dropped his crayon as he caught sight of the bag.

“Where are we going?”, he asked in confusion.

“We aren’t going anywhere but your dad has to.”

Nyx’s eyes, so like Feyre’s grew wide.

Feyre felt Rhys’s grimace down the bond. His pain evident in his face. He’d never been away from Nyx, and always kept close. This wouldn’t be any easier on him.

“But why?”

“I have to work son, some people need our help and I’ll be away for some time.”

Nyx started to shake his head and abandoned his drawing.

“But… but how long? Till tomorrow?”

Rhys moved forward, cupping Nyx’s chin.

“A bit longer than that bud.”

“Three days then?”

This time Rhys winced and moved back.

“No buddy, more like a month.”

Nyx looked frantically at Feyre, “How long is that?”

“Around thirty days, sweetheart.”

Tears started gleaming in his young eyes then. He frantically shook his head, “No. No you can’t go! You have to stay.”

At this point Nyx abandons everything and jumps down the chair.

“Nyx, buddy.. I don’t want to go but I’m sorry, it has to be done.”

Nyx grabs Rhys’s trouser and appeals to him, “No, I want you here daddy!”

Nyx tries shaking the bag from Rhys with his young hands. Rhys loosens his hold out of surprise but catches Nyx before he falls.

Rhys and Nyx drop the bag to the floor after that debacle and Nyx instantly tries to kick the bag away. It proves too heavy for him and its at that moment he starts pushing Rhys away from the bag, as if moving him away will make sure his father will stay.

“You can’t go!”, tears stream down his face endlessly and Rhys looks miserable. Feyre wants so much to intervene but she knows this is something Rhys needs to handle.

He kneels down and cups Nyx’s wet cheeks.

“I’ll be back so soon, you won’t even notice buddy. I know it’s hard but I have duties and this is one of them.”

“But - but - what if you don’t come back“, Nyx stutters.

“I will make my way back to you and your mom. It’s important to help those who need it Nyx, so I have to go but I swear I’ll be back. I could never leave you bud, you’re my bestfriend.”

Tears continue to roll down his cheeks but Nyx throws his little arms around his father and hugs him.

“You’re my bestfriend too!”

Rhys offers him a little pinch on the side.

“Liar, I know your mom ranks higher than me on your list.”

Nyx giggles and tucks his head into Rhys’s shoulder again.

“I’ll miss you.“

Rhys caresses Nyx’s hair and hugs him tighter.

“Bud, I’m going to miss you like anything but I’ll be back soon okay?”

Nyx leans back and nods.

“I love you, bud”, Rhys ruffles his hair.

“I love you, daddy”, Nyx leans forward and gives Rhys a quick peck on the cheek.

Feyre relaxes and gets up from the chair. Nyx instantly leans his arms up and Feyre takes him into her arms. Her son, when wanting comfort always tucked his head beneath her chin and that is exactly what he did now.

Rhys moved forward and enveloped them both in his arms, standing and savouring this last moment with his family for a while.

Side Note: apologies for the grammatical errors, I didn’t work on the draft too much while editing 🥹

[liauditore]

tw dysphoria (i guess?), abandonment issues (it always when we talk about jimmy), just rambling about jimmy not being a toy but being dysphoric about it

(you can just delete it before reading if it could trigger you)

in my head all this "jimmy is a toyyy!!!" arc was not about haha toy story and let's ignore how they could know about it, okay, it's like how scott doesn't remember pearl and jimmy just OMG MY RANCHER, OMG SCAR, OH NO, GRIAN and yeah yeah yeah

you know that thing when everyone bulling person and calling them, for example, "monster" and they are like, well, a lot of people call me that, i should conform (megamind basically). that's something similar, everyone call jimmy a toy (which he's not) and he's starting to doubt if he's a human. everything joel did to him (or its all hallucinations or joel really can control it and make jimmy toy for some time) just making worth. jimmy wasn't a toy, was he? (in my headcanons sheriff jimmy it's cod jimmy that decided to try again but absolute opposite of what he was.)

and because of green also making hallucinations for him (i hope you knows green something like origin, you can find it something in romeos blog, i wrote about it a little), jimmy is really can't really say if he's not a toy. he doesn't want to belive it and we can see it in dialogues with scar, that jimmy refusing to be a toy, an action figure, everything besides who he really is.

i can imagine him, avoiding mirrors and reflective surfaces, so he won't see himself. i'm really inspired to write it all bc of cavetown dysphoric, it's so jimmy for me

it's been over a year now

i thought it was the end

but now i don't remember comfort

because what i am is what i'm not

i don't belong here, it's just hopeless

find me a way out

if you love me at all

don't let me hear what they say

cuz i can't stand it every day

i'm thinking that i should leave now

but i don't i think i'm coming back this time

it's killing my heart.

and scar was the only one who doesn't call jimmy a toy like 90% of their time together. jimmy knows that scar will leave, like his rancher left him, like emp1 scott left him alone with problem with cod father head and yeah yeah yeah....

i don't know, i just woke up and my brain wad like good morning, honey, it's time to make people suffer

- 🔥

angst?? for me??? 🥺🥺👉👈

HKDHKHLADH SCrEAMING,, putting thoughts under the cut cus i already know its gonna get Long but hkhlkfdhjk

OuGH i love this 😭😭😭 although the megamind comparison kinda sent me lmao

side note i am. into very disturbing and messed up themes so you'd have to try very, very hard to upset me. so go wild in my ask box lol (i do have a good chunk of ppl who just have 'minor' in their bios following me tho so i might not respond to smth if i feel like it's 'too far' or hide it under a cut but yeah)

^realising this sounds like a "i am very badass" thing but i swear i just think stuff is cool 😭😭😭

BUT ANYWAY ouhfhkl mind break and objectification my beloved. i love taking the toy bit in an angsty direction cus i'll be honest i never really found the humour in it but it's TASTY recontextualized.

Jimmy's got a lot of fight in him but I'm just thinking maybe one day it all becomes a bit too much and he just.. goes limp in his seat, eyes glazed over, motionless except for his chest rising and falling with each breath. Someone (maybe Scar, since we're doing Scaridarity) finds him and is like "Hey, what's wrong? You okay?" and gets no response.

Scar would probably be somewhat uninitiated on the whole toy thing and be puzzled but I'd think he scoops Jimmy up and takes him somewhere safe til he recovers. and when he finally gets up he has a bit of a panic attack about what is real.